#if you saw the chapter count go up by one no you didn't

[madamechrissy]

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x F!reader Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Very emotional at first, but then it lightens up and gets sweet. Light angst, heavy at the beginning, forgiveness and trying for each other, a little jealousy and hurt, lots of kissing, fingering, oral (f recieving), lots of sexual tension and feelings

💜 Word Count: this chap - 10k (long one)

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?

No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoy- A/N- I attempt to write a song, I am sure I failed be nice abt it lol! ✨️

Chapter Four 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜

Chapter Five

It has been two weeks since you spoke or saw Choso. He finally stopped texting and calling a few days ago, finally stopped showing up at your work every morning with that cup of coffee that you asked your coworkers to take instead. You don't even look or respond to him, it's too far gone, it's too much.

You don't respond to Satoru either, he was clearly there for fun, which is fine but you can't believe what you've done. After being so set on sex being this end all be all, Ino’s dumping you so soon after clearly fucked you up, and hopping in bed with Choso had been the biggest mistake.

You are out with Utahime at the club, dancing together and giggling, enjoying her so much, even as you miss Choso like you live and breathe. It's all too much, and you don't know if you can ever repair what has happened, to undo the tangled mess you both had become.

You're not putting fault all on him, but you're still hurt by him. You didn't go to his concert, you hate yourself for that, but it would hurt too much to see. You sent good luck necklaces to the three of them with a note saying you were sick (you especially hate to let the boys down too) but there's not much hope for it, not when you can't stomach facing him.

If you never kissed him, you maybe could have lived your life just fine, if you never had him look at you that way, if you never slept in his arms, you could have said it was friendship. But now, even your strong, fourteen year friendship is hopelessly gone.

Take a shot.

Dance.

Laugh 

Take a shot.

Take a selfie with Utahime.

Dance more.

Laugh.

Hollow laughter, laughter that rings just wrong, your eyes aren't as bright when you look in the mirror, but you think you can puzzle together the pieces.

Men flirt.

You ignore it.

Have a drink now.

Dance under the strobe lights.

Laugh.

You're almost human, or at least you're pretending to be, and it almost works, buzzed off your ass and dancing with her helps, giggling as you all walk out in your heels to your ride helps. Taking more selfies and giggling at the reacting on Insta helps, you feel good…

Well, almost.

Choso haunts all of your damn thoughts, it’s like you can’t even imagine things before him, like this gaping hole in your chest. You are tipsy when you get home, images flash as you walk through the door, Choso holding you against it, him on his knees in front of you. Then more images of Satoru, which make you sick.

You never thought actually doing something with the guy you had it bad for since forever would bring you down so badly, it made everything snap into place, things that didn’t make any sense in your mind. It was never just sex with Choso, not from the moment he kissed you and called you beautiful, because you know what ‘just sex’ is, Choso was beyond it.

Now there was nothing left between you.

Choso hearts your pictures, and something shifts, something almost makes you sick about it, not talking to him. You crave to just forgive and forget, to act like this friendship is fixable, to act unbothered, but you can’t just go back now. The decision was made when he first kissed you on that couch, when his tongue ring clicked on your teeth, when his big hands brushed against your waist.

You see his IG is Amber free, and hers is Choso free. You don't know what that means but you can't bring yourself to care anymore, you'd tried to make any sense of any of this and have failed. When you think too much about it, about your decisions, you sob so hard your eyes burn, your cheeks sticky.

You wash your face, put your hair up into a bun, you go back to all of your routines, without Cho Bear things don't really bring you the same joy, but finally you think you can let some of the heartache mend. Snatching up a book and your favorite plush, you snuggle on the couch, buzzed and dizzy. Luckily Satoru doesn't bother you, just a dick pic here and there, you roll your eyes at him.

He was good at what he did, fuck he was real good, but it was not what you wanted, it was what you thought you had to do, to prove something to yourself, that you were inexperienced and overthinking it. But, you were wrong. Choso pushes you to your worst, and you just can't let it continue, you can’t be that girl.

Choso calls, you go to hang up and accidentally hit answer, cursing quietly, hearing the hope in his voice as he says your name.

“What is it?” You ask, tone soft but cold, you haven't talked and don't want to.

“I know you hate me, and I don't blame you. You should.” You tear up as you hear his voice breaking. 

“I don't hate you, I just can't be in your life. I'm sorry.” You sniffle, hiccuping on a cry when you set your book down.

“Will we ever be friends again?”

“I don't think so, but it's not all your fault. We both fucked up.” Choso sighs over the phone, you imagine him in your mind's eye. Sexy and shirtless maybe? Low hanging sweats? Is his hair loose and long?

“I haven't talked to Amber. I never will again.” You blink now.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does! It does. What I did was horrible to you.”

“It's over now. Don't dwell on this. I have to go.”

“Please, please… anything I could do to make you smile again. I hate that I caused this.” You sigh shakily as you hear his crying over the phone. It almost gets to you.

“I'm okay, I promise. Choso I'll always care, I'll always be rooting for you-”

“Please, please… please forgive me.”

“I do. I'm not angry. I'm sad.” You cover your face, choking on your sobs as he does. “I don't hate you not one bit.”

“I hate myself.” You shake your head and can't stop the sobs from wracking your body.

“I know that feeling well.” You both take a breath, both hating what you've lost. “But I promise I don’t hate you, I couldn’t. Take care, please.” Your voice is just a whisper, but he hears you.

“Please, anything, I will do anything, let me make it up. Let me fix it!? I know I'm stupid, I know I was wrong. Please.” His heartbreak in his voice makes it crack over the phone, you’re devastated then.

“Just let it go, okay? Let it go.”

“I don’t want to let you go. I-”

“Good night.” You hang up quickly, cutting off whatever words could wreck your resolve, your hands violently shaking, you press them between your thighs, staring as the phone rings.

Cho Bear.

Will you miss him forever?

*****

It’s been three weeks since you last spoke to Choso now, he quit calling finally, it’s sort of like it was when you were with Ino, when you two couldn’t keep your friendship, but it’s worse because you know what you could have. God, to have even been able to go on a date with him? To imagine building something so beautiful, but instead you’ve ruined it all.

You’re shocked when Megumi and Yuuji are knocking on your door, you stand there still when Yuuji barrels you with a big hug. You sigh, hugging him back, Megumi snakes an arm around you after as well, you almost tear up a bit, thinking of how close all four of you have been so long.

“I missed you two.” You say softly, shutting the door then. “What brings you all over here?”

Yuuji swipes a hand through his pastel locks. “What did Cho do so bad that it’s been three weeks of you ignoring him?”

“Yuuji…” Megumi says with a sigh, dark eyes looking at you seriously. “What he means to say is Choso misses you, bad.”

“He’s so depressed he won’t even play.” You blink at that, looking away then.

“Won’t play? When has Choso not played?”

“He won’t even leave his room aside from work.” Megumi says, your heart breaks further and further.

“I… we can’t be friends. I’m sorry, you two.”

“What, why!? You’ve been friends almost my entire life? As long as I can remember.”

“Yuuji…”

“Did you two…” Megumi trails off, you blush furiously then. “Oh.”

“Oh what? Did what?” Yuuji’s voice annoys Megumi clearly then.

“Tch, just stop.” He looks at you now, seriously. “Is it that bad?”

You nod quietly, sighing and shutting your eyes. “He wouldn’t wanna see me anyway.”

“That’s not true, not at all. Please, just come over, you don’t even have to hang out with him, just let him see you.” Yuuji begs, yanking on her hand now, pulling you towards him so his hands can rest on your shoulders. “You’re his best friend in the world, you can’t just not be one anymore.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Your tears start running before you can stop them, Yuuji frowns, Megumi brushes a hand up and down your back. “I don’t think me and Cho can fix it.”

“So start new.” Megumi’s voice stuns you. “Start fresh, whatever happened you two can get over it. Have you never had problems, fights?”

“Of course we have. I… I’m scared to even face him.” You cover your face and start crying then, letting the weeks of despair fall out with tears as they comfort you. “Guys I can’t.”

“Just spend time with all of us. I know it would brighten his day, you don’t know how bad it is.” Yuuji’s voice breaks just a bit, and then you realize, Choso must be hurting as much as you are.

“Let me get myself together and I’ll head over.” You say with a small smile, emotional as you think of seeing him again.

Could you all ever go back to being friends, when you are so in love with him… love, yes.

Love.

You’re hopelessly in love with your former best friend, how would you play it casual, how could you even face him?

*****

Choso can’t stand not seeing you, not hearing your voice or your little laugh, god he misses your scent, your presence, your everything. Even if he couldn’t see you, he used to swing by and give you that coffee, and you turned every cup down, not even acknowledging him. The heartbreaking call last week had him finally giving up, realizing he had done too much damage.

How could he hurt you like this?

He thinks back now, to all the signals you gave, to all the clues where he has been so clueless. Choso never got attention from girls, a shy guy, a nerdy guy, it’s been the past couple of years he’s gotten popular with his band. He didn’t realize Amber was that insane over him so quickly, and even so, he saw that hurt on your face before the incident in the car.

He told you one thing but did another, and of course you’re done with him, of course you probably went home with Gojo that night, how could he blame you? There you were, painting things clearly, and here he was, not understanding a thing you meant, like the words couldn’t compute, he couldn’t fathom you felt that way.

Choso has barely left his home for the past three weeks, but for the past week he has barely left his room, guitars unplayed, notebooks left unwritten and sprawled all around his room. He can barely eat or think of anything but you, aching to call you, to see you, but he knows he can’t anymore, he knows he’d just be doing more damage, how could he be so foolish?

The doors open of his room and he grimaces then, as his little brother keeps trying to energetically get him out of the house, to give him all this hope that you two could make up, as if it’s even possible. He blinks and covers his face with his plaid blanket.

“Go away.”

“Cho?” He hears your voice then, making him jump up out of bed, sheets all rumpled and a mess, thinking he’s dreaming.

But you’re there.

You’re here.

Your eyes look just a little puffy, your lips trembling as you see him, he tries to smooth his hair, knowing he probably looks terrible, he hasn’t even showered in days he’s just rotted away. Choso struggles to pull himself together, walking towards you then, and he sees it, you’re trembling, as if you can’t even handle this, seeing him again.

But he was wrong.

When you see him like this, a whole mess and so depressed, it destroys your heart, you can’t take it, even as much as you both had messed up here, he was your closest friend in the world. He was always by your side through your heartbreaks, and you were by his side, and now? You were both suffering alone, and for what, for the fear of not forgiving each other?

Choso doesn’t even know what you’ve done, he doesn’t know you were just as bad as him, maybe worse. No, you two don’t date, but it felt wrong, what both of you did, especially in your heart, you didn’t do it for fun, you did it for some petty sense of revenge, and now it’s hard to face him, but you do. You face your best friend who looks like a mess, with his eyes glimmering with tears.

It’s quiet then, Megumi clears his throat. “Let’s give you both a minute, maybe you can make him shower?”

Yuuji nods. “Please do.”

They leave, shutting the door to Choso’s room, a room the last time you were in that he had sex with you, but was it sex? Or did he make love to you?

How he’d stared into your eyes, cupped your face so gently, how he’d asked every moment if things felt good, if you were okay. The memories make you ache, and not just physically, they make you ache for all of him, for his sweet smile again, for him to just hold you in his arms. You’re just standing there, and so is he, you both open your mouths, then shut them.

He’s clenching his fists, stepping closer now, terrified you’ll just run away, but you don’t. You stay there, looking at him, as he feels emotions in his throat, as the tears begin to fall. He steps a little closer, and you let him, giving him the silent go ahead to approach you further, your chest rising and falling with your breaths as they come faster and faster.

Another step, and your boots are toe to toe with his bare feet, and Choso is looking down at you, his hands hovering just above your shoulders, as if he’s scared to touch you. You feel the sobs building in your chest now, not a word is spoken, but seeing your best friend who you love in tears, along with your own regrets makes you break apart.

“You’re here.” He says your name then, and you break into tears when he pulls you against him for a hug, those tight ones in his strong arms you’ve loved forever, you feel so safe, so right. He’s stroking your hair, pressing you against his chest as your arms wrap his chest. “I didn’t know if I’d… if I’d… see you…”

He’s sobbing out his words, you look up through your tears, seeing him, his stubble, his dark circles as you sniffle. “I’m here, Cho.”

“Feel like I’m dreaming of you.” He squeezes you so tightly, but you crave it, you love it, against him finally.

The room is quiet, aside from both of you quietly crying, sniffling and laughing softly when you look at each other. “You do need a bath, gosh.”

“Hush.” He’s smiling, that heartbreakingly sweet smile you’ve come to love, but you have to pull back a bit, taking a breath, eyes fluttering shut when he cups your face, like you’re precious. “I missed your pretty face.”

“Did you?” You tease softly, opening your eyes, burning from tears.

“I’m so sorry for everything, I am sorry I didn’t listen, that I hurt you.” You feel almost sick now, shaking your head. “I fucked it all up, I did-”

“We both did. I have to tell you something.” He nods then, shoving aside a bunch of things to clear you a seat in his gaming chair, pulling you by it, arms on either side of you as he sits on the bed.

“Anything.”

You take a breath, hoping it will help you, but you feel sick thinking of it. “I was intimate with Gojo.”

Choso blinks long lashes, frowning before nodding. “I figured, that night maybe you slept with him?” He tries to hide the hurt in his voice, but fails.

“I didn’t have sex but… um… oral.” You feel like sinking into the goddamn carpet below you, Choso clears his throat, looking away for a moment.

“I figured so, but was it because you wanted to? Was it because he’s Gojo, an old fling? Was it… for fun? Or… was it because I pushed you there?” His heartbreak is so clear it affects you physically, you’re shifting in the seat, fiddling with your hair, sighing nervously.

“It was my decision, but it was based on seeing her with you, it hurt so bad, but it’s no excuse. I acted on impulse and felt awful.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t feel bad, please.”

“Cho I… we…”

“It’s because of me.”

“It’s not!”

“You always try to defend me, even when I’m wrong, and I was so wrong here. You tried to tell me.”

You’re nodding through more tears, he rests his forehead on yours, as you both take shaky breaths. “I did try to tell you, but now I don’t know what to do, how can we go back to how it was?”

“I don’t know but I’ll do anything, be anything for you.” Your eyes lock, his a glittering violet, dark sooty lashes wet and spiky over them.

“Maybe we should start new?” You ask softly.

“As friends?”

“I don’t know, maybe something else.” Your brace yourself for impact, but his next words fill you with so much hope.

“How about… we go on a date.”

“A date?” You blink in confusion.

“A date, me and you, I am asking you on a date. A real one, a proper one, and we get to know each other as… maybe more.” Your heart races then, you feel it, the giddiness at the thought, but then the guilt.

“You wanna date me? After what I did?” Your voice is breaking, you’re no better than him really, maybe you’re worse? What he did casually, you did in retaliation.

“Oh, sweetie…” He brushes your hair back gently, it feels so good, so perfect then, in his room, with his touch. “You did nothing wrong to me, I think it felt wrong for you though?”

“It felt wrong, so wrong. I hate myself for it.” You’re just a breath away from his lips, but both of you hold that inch apart, you bite your lower lip, his eyes dart to it, but he stays that distance.

“What you did makes sense, I’m just sorry I made you feel you had to. I don’t want games, or hurting each other anymore, please. Let’s just have a date, and if you like me, we’ll do another.” You giggle then, the sound makes his heart swell, it makes him so fucking happy, to see how it lights up your face, even as he brushes tears away, thumbs with faded black polish barely on.

“So we’re going to take things slow?” You whisper, hands gliding up his chest, making him tense then.

“Yes, you deserve slow, you deserve to be treated right, and to choose what you want. If it’s me or not, I think we should try, what’s here, this connection? It’s…”

“Epic.” He smiles then, nodding, thumb brushing against your jaw now.

“I’d die to kiss you but I’d like to earn it, please.”

“It better be something nice, now. And you’re paying.” He grins, you’re wiping his tears now, running your hand through his dark messy locks.

“I’ll pay, don’t worry. Will you wear something that shows off that perfect body of yours?”

“I could be persuaded to. But you’ll be a gentleman.”

He nods, holding your little hand over his chest. “I will be.”

You feel it, the flutters in your tummy, at the thought of something like this, it seems so silly, but you’re giddy, hopeful. “So we’re… gonna go on a date.”

“Tonight.”

“You absolutely need to shower then, I can’t with all this.” You tease, he pulls you against him tightly, kissing your cheek, your temple, hugging you just so, you feel his heartbeat on your cheek.

“I wish you could get in there, fuck I miss every bit of you.” He exhales, you feel his words hit your core, you’re aching now, clinging to him.

“I miss it too.” You look back up now at him, smiling as you both just sit there, quietly. “I’m sorry Choso.”

“I’m sorry, angel. So sorry.” You nod, trying to pull yourself together then, brushing your cheeks with shaky hands. “I will not ever let you down again, even if you hate this date, even if you decide we should be acquaintances, just any part of your life you have me in, I’ll follow.”

“Shh.” You kiss his cheek now, cheeks that tinge pink under the light brush of your lips. “You text the time, and I’ll be ready. Oh, and you better shave.”

“I will.” You smile so pretty at him, as Choso’s mind whirls once you leave. A date with you, he needs it to be perfect.

You came to him, you were real.

Yuuji and Megumi burst in now, and Choso has this silly grin on his face, much to their relief. “You better not fuck this date up.”

“You all were listening!?”

“Just to some of it! Choso!”

Megumi snorts. “He’s gonna kill you, Yuuji.”

*****

Choso pulls up in his little Mustang, you stand there so nervous in the night, having gone over twenty outfits before landing on a little black dress, you figure you can’t go wrong with that. It’s lacy on the chest, it cinches just so in the waist and flares out flirtatious, along with a black jacket since the night has a chill. You see his mouth drop when he gets out of the car, making you flush.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says softly, like he’s in awe, it makes you feel beautiful then, Choso makes you feel so much, like you are so special.

“You look handsome, Cho.” You smile up at him, taking in his black dress shirt and slacks, fitting his muscled frame so sexy. “I’ve never seen you dressed up like this? Where’d you get these?”

“Put away from a wedding.” He admits, you giggle then, the sound brightening his world, as he takes in your gorgeous face. “Your makeup is beautiful too.”

“Oh thank you! Youtube tutorial.” He grins, brushing his fingers along the backs of your cheek then.

“You nailed that shit.”

“I missed the fuck out of you.” He nods, leaning so close, dying to kiss you, but you deserve the night, a night all about you, to take it slow, so he pecks a kiss on your hand, taking it in his. “Gentleman Cho?”

“Mmhmm. My lady.” He teases, your pulse flutters in your throat as he opens the car door for you now, making a show of dramatically bowing. His hand is on your thigh when he’s driving, yours brushes the backs of his knuckles, so much still left unsaid between you, but the comfort of each other overpowers it.

“Where are we going, Sir?” He exhales, not able to handle you calling him Sir because fuck the thoughts going through his head are insane now.

“We’ll be there soon, I think you’ll like it though?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Me too.” He admits, looking at you as the lights of cars drive by, reflecting against your pretty face as he drives you through the night, catching each one of your features just so every time. “Breathtaking.”

“Oh stop.” He hums a bit, big hands squeezing your thigh gently, thumb brushing along your inner thigh now, you shift just a bit. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being so pretty.”

“Whatever, you’re too much.” You roll your eyes and his laugh fills the car. “I hated it, Cho, being apart.”

He exhales now, grip tightening. “God, me too. I couldn’t bear it, not at least seeing you for that one minute in the morning, it hurt.”

You feel the pain in his voice, no matter how much he tries to hide it from you. “I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay, angel. I understand. You’re probably still hurting, but you’re here.”

“I am here. Terrified.”

“Me too.” Choso pulls up now, and you see it, a beautiful boat in the night, making you gasp at it.

“What!? Oh gosh, I expected a movie?”

“I thought we could have dinner here and just… talk? Relax together? Enjoy the view.” You nod excitedly, and soon you’re walking along the planks, alongside couples strolling arm and arm, Choso watches you carefully, as the breeze blows your hair around your face.

You look like art to him.

You are art to him.

“It’s gorgeous here my god!” Your hands are on the railing, looking up at the clear night sky, the gentle waves of the ocean rolling. Choso can’t keep his eyes off of you, when he agrees.

“Gorgeous.” You look to him then, heating up at his insinuation, at the way he’s looking at you so sweetly, so enamored. “I never meant to make you…”

“It’s fine, Cho.”

“No.” He tilts your chin up, with two long fingers, making you look up at him now. “I never meant to make you feel less than. Not good enough, or worthy enough, you’re worth everything.”

“Gonna make me cry right now?” You whisper, lips trembling, he aches to brush them against his, aches to make every part of you covered in his kisses.

“Just know I appreciate this night, even if it's only once.”

“Hush, Cho bear.” The nickname, so silly and cute, hits him with the nostalgia, of all the years you both were the best of friends, giggling and spending every moment together.

“I’ll hush then, let’s go eat.”

You find yourself across the table from him, you’re nervously eyeing the menu, eyes bulging out. “This is too much.”

“Stop it, please? I did really well for myself with the last show.” You hate that mention then, that you didn’t go. “Don’t be upset about it, I get it. We got your gifts which were very sweet you know.”

“I wanted to go so badly.” You look away, taking a breath, then he’s yanked his seat, dragging it across the floor with a screech, next to you, and you love it, his thigh brushing against yours, his sweet smile.

“It’s okay, I understand. I do. I know you have supported me always, I don’t know if I let you realize how much I appreciated it.”

“I can’t cry, I have on eyelashes, stop.” Choso laughs softly, leaning close and pulling up your menus.

“I’ve never gone on any kind of date to a fancy place, I wanted this to be with you, okay? It’s nothing. But…” He whispers then. “I have no clue what any of this stuff is?”

“Me either! No pictures!?” You lean over then to a couple near you, they smile at you both. “Any advice?”

“I picked the filet mignon, at least I knew the word.” She says, you giggle, nodding then and peeking at Cho.

“That one?” Soon you’re giving the waitress your order, and you can’t help but notice that she’s flirting with him, but instead of how he’d usually be sweet and hopelessly clueless, he wraps an arm around your waist, as if showing that he’s here with you.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted in one gesture.

Ino picking his ex over you, Satoru having picked random girls over you, and a serious lack of dating has made your shitty limited experience have you extra insecure, something you realized this past month. Choso even just calling you his friend, though it was true, had hurt deeply once you were intimate.

You’re trying to take it slow, one moment at a time, but god he feels so good, against you, with you. He’s cutting at your steak and feeding you little bites, you both sip wine and just enjoy each other as the boat sways through the water. It’s unlike any date you’ve had, you don’t have to get to know him, don’t have to impress him. He’s Choso Kamo, the man you’ve adored forever.

“So it’s a date, what’s your favorite color?” He teases, you snort in laughter, rolling your eyes.

“Oh stop like you haven’t known since middle school, it’s blue. What’s your favorite color, emo boy, black?”

“Emo boy!?” You are both losing it with laughter, with his every little touch, his sweet smile, he carves his damn place further in your heart.

The dessert comes, a chocolate lava cake with a scoop of ice cream, and you laugh at his messy eating, the way he gets chocolate on the corner of his mouth. “You’re so messy.”

“So were you, I remember.” His husky tone makes your mouth drop open, desire clutching you tightly, especially when he licks it off, you can’t help but remember the taste of him, the feeling of his body against yours, the way that tongue just fucking did things.

You clear your throat, trying to shake the thoughts away. “Not gentlemanly, now is it?”

“It’s not, I’m sowwy.” He gives you puppy dog eyes, and you can’t take how cute he is then. You laugh softly, wiping a smudge of chocolate from his face with your thumb. “What’s so funny?” He asks, licking his lips.

“You are.” You reply, unable to stop smiling.

“Am I?” You nod, he’s so close then, his hand on your thigh under the table cloth, you have insane thoughts, what would it be like for him to play with you, right here?

“Shit.”

“Shit what?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, running fingers through your locks now.

“Open up.” Why does everything sound so attractive!? You do as he commands, opening your mouth for him to fork a piece of the chocolate cake, you chew thoughtfully as he watches you with avid attention. 

“Food on my face?”

“N-no. Just so pretty.” He’s blushing now, it takes everything not to completely melt, but you’re still a little scared, a little hurt.

When he’s driving you back and you’re in the car, it also takes everything not to jump him then and there, not to let everything overwhelm you. His hand rests on your knee, smiling over at you when you pull up, the tension is still there, the words so unspoken, you want to say more, do more, but you know you shouldn’t yet.

“Would you like to go to our concert this weekend? I would really love it if you came… I may have a surprise I’m working on.”

“I’d love to, Cho. I miss seeing you guys.”

“Megumi and Yuuji really miss you too.” The guilt eats at you, Choso notices, frowning, dark brows drawn together. “I don’t say that to make you feel bad, they understand somewhat.”

“We fucked up so bad.” You blink rapidly, suddenly the car is too small, your hand going to the handle. “I should say good night.”

“Let me.” Choso is opening your door then, taking your hand in his, and you feel it, those butterflies swirling in your tummy, the desire for him in every way possible, as you give him a little tremulous smile. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“You can indeed, Sir.” You’re smiling so big you can’t stand it, you both are on your porch now, your hand still in his, which he brings to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. “You’re like an Emo Disney Prince, Cho.”

“A what!?” You’re giggling again and he snorts in laughter, covering his face. He laughs so hard, and soon you’re just both laughing, looking at each other. He cups your face then, making your pulse race, your laughter easing now, as you stare at him. “You look so beautiful like this.”

“Snorting in laughter?” You ask with a quirk to your lips, he nods then, brushing his thumb on the apple of your cheek.

“Much better than tears.” There is so much between you both, a part of you wants to run inside and hide, another part wants to drag him in and kiss every part of him, but your hand goes to his chest, feeling his heart racing just like yours, just feeling him, being with him.

“I love seeing you smile. I can’t believe we ruined it.” Your whisper breaks him, he shakes his head then, leaning even lower.

“We didn’t ruin anything, maybe we… changed things?”

“You think? Can you… forgive me too?”

“Oh angel, there’s nothing to forgive. We both made a mess of this and hurt each other, but I never once was mad at you.” You step even closer now, swallowing nervously, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck now, one of his arms wraps your waist. 

 “Thank you for a beautiful evening, Choso Kamo.” You murmur, a little smile on your lips.

“Thank you for being you.” He whispers, the warmth of his palm seeping through your dress, making you gasp at it, just the brush of his fingers down your back ends you damn near. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath against your skin, waiting for it, waiting for his kiss.

But he just watches you, with your lips pursed, and your eyes shut, his heart fucking stopped now. He knew it, that he loved you, he had suspected it for so long, but then and there he knew he was madly in love with you. Part of him wants to give you a sweet kiss, the other wants to fuck you so good you forget Gojo ever touched you, warring parts in his mind.

His thumb tilts your chin up, and he pauses. “May I kiss you?”

Your eyes open in surprise. “You may.”

As his lips brush against yours, it’s at first sweet and lingering, but then it is like a spark ignites a flame, a passionate desperate kiss that you both crave forms, tongues dancing together, tasting the sweetness of the desert on both of your lips, the tart of the wine, and tasting each other.

Your hands are in his hair, his arms around your waist as he bends over you, you’re both lost in it, lost in each other. His thumbs trace little circles on the small of your back, making you arch into him, his kisses becoming more insistent, more needy. You feel it, the desire coiling in your tummy as he presses you even closer against his hard body, as one of his hands entangles in your hair.

You break apart for a moment, both of you panting, staring at each other, his eyes are full of desire, his pupils blown wide, and you see in his own eyes your face, lips parted, your own eyes lidded with desire. You both ease back, he rests his forehead on yours, desire coursing through his veins.

“It’s taking everything in me not to go inside, to have your taste all over me.” His words end you almost, you’re panting softly, nodding then.

“I know, I want it too.” He kisses you again, softer and easier, taking a deep breath and stepping back, leaving just a couple of inches between you now.

“I want to do things right this time. I want you to feel you’re put first. Please, don’t cry, angel.” You can’t help it, it’s everything you’ve wanted and needed to hear from him, tears streaming silently.

“They’re happy tears this time.” You manage to whisper, he exhales then, brushing them gently, kissing your cheeks.

“I hope soon I can ask you to be my girlfriend.” Your heart stutters then, he tenses as if he’s said something wrong. “Not yet I mean… if…”

“N-no, I’d like it soon. I agree we shouldn’t go further tonight though.” He nods quickly, kissing you once more and standing straight, clearing his throat, he’s rubbing the back of his neck all awkward and cute, the Choso you’ve known forever. “You’re still you, hmm?”

His lips turn up a bit. “I’m still me. You’re still you.”

“I am still me. Text me the details of the concert? I’ll be there.” He beams brightly at that.

“Yeah!?”

“Yeah. Good night, Choso. Thank you.”

“Good night.” After he’s watched you go inside, Choso is covering his face, breath coming so quick, he’s kissed you, and not just as some prelude to sex, no he kissed you after a date.

Everything in him is melting, things aren’t completely lost like he thought, it’s like this beautiful rainbow has entered his world again, illuminating the darkness that losing you had left behind. He’s not even sure he deserves your forgiveness, but he knows he will make sure he earns it properly. He stares at your shut door for some time before he leaves, the longing making him ache.

You’re covering your face, a huge fucking smile on it, as your back is against the door, then you have a hand on your heart, feeling it beat again, for the first time in weeks. You take off your heels, unzipping your dress then, heading to the bathroom to start taking off your makeup, mind whirling. Choso wasn’t lost, and maybe you weren’t lost either.

You try not to get your hopes too high, to not be too quick to think everything will be fine, you both hurt each other deeply, and you have a lot to go, but tonight made the dark bright again, made you realize Choso was your brightness. When you’re in bed, snuggled under the blankets, your phone buzzes and you look quickly to see it, a text from Choso.

Cho Bear: I hope you have a good night, but I have to admit… I’d die to have you in my arms.

His text hits hard, it hits brutal, it was only one night he’d held you like that, but you can’t get it out of your head, how it felt perfect. Like you were supposed to be there, safe and protected, cherished. Even now to think of him holding you brings emotions forwards, the longing in his words matching yours.

You: That would be lovely, I enjoyed that night.

Cho Bear: I enjoyed it too much, especially watching you sleep.

You: Creepy sleep stalker!

Cho Bear: A little bit.

You’re giggling again, eyes heavy now, and he sends the details of the concert coming up while you yawn.

You: I can’t wait, good night Cho.

Cho Bear: Good night, pretty.

You also see a text from Utahime, asking for details, you’re half asleep with one eye open as you text her back that it was so fun. She had encouraged you to go and give it a try, and you’re so happy you did. She gives you a million heart emojis then, making you smile sleepily.

To be in Choso’s arms, you don’t know if you’ll get there any time soon, but in your dreams, there you are.

*****

“She came!” Yuuji exclaims that weekend, you and Choso were back to him bringing you that coffee at work, in fact it came along with a little peck on your cheek every morning. It would make you think of him all day, it would put this goofy smile on your face, but aside from that, you haven’t seen him.

The concert is at a very popular club in the city, and it’s packed, there is Choso’s band and a couple others there, when you walk in and you see them. Yuuji waves excitedly, Megumi gives a little nod, and Choso brightens up, calling your name and waving you up to the stage then.

“You came!” He picks you up in his arms then, a giant bear hug that makes you feel so small as he lifts you up, you hug him around the neck as your feet dangle off the ground, smiling against his cheek.

“Of course I did, I couldn't miss it.” He eases you down as some onlookers come, one including Amber, who makes Choso tense as she strides up.

“Choso, I haven’t talked to you! In forever…”

“Is that your girl?” Another girl asks, Amber laughs then.

“They’re friends.”

You gulp now, panicking as several people come around curiously, and you want to fall into a fucking hole, terrified of what his answer will be, you’re not together yet, so whatever he says…

“No, she’s my girl.” You blink up at him, gasping, he eases you down and wraps an arm around your waist as the whispers start.

“Your girl?” Amber asks, arms crossed with a scowl.

“She’s pretty!” Someone else says, making you flush, snuggling up to Choso, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

“You don’t have to do this.”

He looks at you then, shaking his head. “I want to.” He murmurs, pressing a little kiss on your lips in front of everyone, Megumi and Yuuji are grinning as the girls are babbling, and people from the crowd ooh and ahh. But Amber?

“Really? Her?” Choso tenses then, glaring over at her.

“Yeah, her, what’s that mean?”

“Cho, it’s okay…”

Amber stomps up to him then, leaning close. “You forgot the last time we hung out?”

“I’d love to forget. You can go on if you mean to insult her, because damned if she’s not perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Why don’t you go on?” Megumi says then, eyeing a bouncer. “Or we could have you escorted?”

“Whatever.” She grumbles, dragging her friends out with her, and suddenly you can breathe just a bit, looking up at him.

“You didn’t have to say all that, it’s okay really.”

“It’s not okay for her to talk that way. She’s nothing.” He cups your face, forgetting the audience right along with you, until Yuuji clears his throat, and you smile at them, tummy doing fucking flips at how good you feel.

“Thanks Megumi.” You say softly, he shrugs.

“She’s a bitch.” You snort a bit, covering your mouth, looking up at Choso again, who has a more serious expression.

“Is it fine I called you my girl?” He asks, you feel it, his nerves then, you nod with the biggest smile, and he exhales. “Okay, good, because I want it to be true.”

“Maybe it will be, let’s see this surprise.” You tease, pecking a kiss on his lips softly again. “I can’t wait.”

As you’re sipping on a drink you watch them start their set, you’re right up front and center, watching Choso’s finger strum the guitar like they’re made to do it, he leans close to the mic and starts singing. His voice resonates through the entire room, earning everyone’s avid attention, including of course, yours.

You watch him intently, as he performs songs you’ve known forever, you’re cheering and dancing and he keeps smiling at you, keeps looking at you. You feel so special then, more than you can ever remember feeling, the fear dissipating with every honeyed flick of his fingers on the guitar, at moments you shut your eyes and just let it wash through you.

You head to get another drink as they prep for the next song, when suddenly there’s a hushed quiet when Choso speaks, making you turn back around and stare at him.

“This song was written in a rush, these two had to learn it so fast, they probably wanna kick my ass.” He says, the crowd laughs a bit, you’re headed back through them with your drink, smiling up at Choso curiously. “But it’s dedicated to someone special, someone I’ve known forever, but who has become very special to me.”

He says your name then.

You can hardly remember your name before he spoke it, before he looked at you like that, and he’s pointing at you, earning the crowd parting just a bit for you. You feel the heat of everyone’s gaze, hear their murmurs, but you’re too entranced and in shock to really see anything but violet eyes across from you on the stage.

“I hope you… I know you’ll get it.” He says then, hoping the lights on the stage didn’t make his blush show too much, then he begins playing, as do Megumi and Yuuji, a melodic tune that sounds nothing like you’ve heard from them.

A/N: *disclaimer I am no songwriter, be easy on me lol*

When the world fades to gray and all I can see is you,

When the nights blend to days and all I feel is you.

The smile on your face it dances across all my dreams,

Feelings so raw it’s like I’m bursting at the seams.

The melody is soft, it’s not their usual rock music, it’s a ballad so beautiful it brings tears to your eyes, hearing the hoarseness of Choso’s voice as he pours his heart into every word. You sniffle and take a shaky sip, trembling as everyone watches you both in wonder, but it is just you two, isn’t it? Hasn’t it always been?

I’d die to have you in my arms every night,

Oh what I’d do to hold you so tight.

To press kisses along your lips,

To touch you with fingertips.

You’re heating up now, breathless as you continue to watch, utterly enamored, it’s as if you feel these words like a physical touch, overheating your body. You break apart that last barrier of fear, piece by piece, because you can’t just make this up, you can feel it, all of him, in all his sincerity.

In a crowded room all I see is you,

Praying at night for all my dreams to come true.

A girl with a smile that can brighten my heart,

A girl with eyes that tear me apart.

Your eyes are a mess, you’re absolutely sure that there is makeup running down your face, as he melody continues, as he starts pouring his heart to you, as he makes you smile, as he makes you melt. You’re trembling so hard your knees nearly knock, aching to be held by him, for him to never let go. You know you have to take things slow, but at this moment it feels impossible.

Feelings I’ve always known,

Feelings I’ve never shown.

She’s the girl that you write songs for,

She’s the girl that I’ve longed for.

By my side through it all,

Never knew we could fall.

The realization that I have come to,

That there’s nobody but you

At that moment you’re a mess, he ends the song but before he can finish you’ve jumped on the stage, he swings his guitar behind him, and you kiss him, pulling him down to you as everyone claps for him. It’s thunderous, but you don’t hear shit, just your pulse racing, just Choso’s heart thudding, he pulls back with tears in his eyes, breaths coming so quick.

“Choso, I hear you. I feel you.” You whisper, brokenly then, and he kisses you deeply, arms wrapping around you.

“I do mean it, I mean it all angel.” You nod, swiping at your tears and smiling so brightly, he leans close, cupping your face, smiling.

“Finish the set.” You whisper, giggling then as you hop off the stage, everyone is enamored as Choso clears his throat, and they start their usual fare. You head to the bathroom, slamming into Amber then, who scoffs at you.

“You, hmm?” She demands, earning your glare.

“What’s your problem with me? It’s not like you and Choso dated.”

“No? Well he sure had his cock in my mouth.”

You tense now. “And? We weren’t together.”

“Don’t you think…” She leans close. “That if he really wanted you, he’d have been with you this entire time?”

“I…” Your mind whirls with doubt, she smiles all nasty at you.

“No worries, I got Gojo’s number, maybe I’ll take your other guy?”

“Psh, like I care about Gojo. Please do, maybe he’ll quit sending me his dick pics.” You say, smirking at her then, she is furious at you.

“He said you’re just friends, you know.”

“Yeah well, I don’t care what he said. It doesn’t matter. We’re not ‘just friends’ any longer, so I expect you to back the fuck off hmm?” You step right to her, damn near nose to nose, and she backs up just a step.

“We’ll see about all that.” She walks off now, leaving you shaky as you peer into the mirror, you feel sick at thinking of them together, once you pull yourself together somewhat you step out, seeing her all clinging to his arm.

Choso shrugs her off though, glaring, and when he sees you he starts walking your way, filling you with so much relief, it’s like you can breathe again. “Was she a bitch to you?”

“Yeah, she’s really salty.” Choso snorts then, kissing you gently for everyone to see. “I hate that you were with her.”

“I hate you were with him.” He murmurs, leaning close to your ear. “How slow are we taking this?”

“Mmm…” You trail your hands down his strong arms. “We said slow…”

“I could eat you out really slow?” Your eyes shoot up to his, god you haven’t been touched that way in so long, and by him especially, you feel his words shoot between your thighs. “I want to feel you cum so badly, watch your pretty face, your last time cumming was…”

“Thinking of you.” You cut him off, surprising him then. “It was playing with myself, thinking of you.”

“Fuck…” Choso kisses you deeper, pressing you against the wall right by the bathroom, his hands on your waist, pressing in. “I’ll take it slow, whatever it is you want to do, I will.”

“You wanna lick me slow huh?” You’re giggling at the thought. “Lick me where, Choso?”

“You know where, you’re so bratty right now.” You can’t stop your giggles, making him desire you even more. “Don’t I owe you a couple orgasms?”

“Maybe you do. Two I think.”

“So I’ll give you two, and we won’t go further… yet.”

“Where?” He exhales now.

“I want you home… I mean… my home.”

“Staying the night is a lot really quick, this is like our second date?” You tease, he smiles shyly then.

“We can just cuddle, we can do anything. Please just come home… over to my home…”

“You’ve said that twice.” He is a blushing mess, it melts you. “I’ll come over for a night cap then.”

“Yeah!?”

You laugh, nodding. Soon you’re pulling into Choso’s home, and it’s a little nerve wracking. Then you remember the last time you were in his bed, you don’t know how you hold back. Choso’s bending down, slipping off your heels, pecking kisses up your thighs then, earning your gasp as you’re dripping wet in your panties.

“Wanna get more comfy?” He asks softly, you nod shyly then, and soon you’re only wearing one of his soft band tees, coming out to see Choso has made you a drink, he hands it to you as you walk in the kitchen, leaning on the counter then. “You’re so beautiful.” He says, brushing your hair back.

“You’re beautiful, Cho bear.” He shakes his head with a little eye roll.

“You always sucked at taking compliments.”

“I know, ugh.” You sip on the drink in the quiet kitchen then, he bends over you, arms on either side of the counter.

“Do you know how badly I wanna fuck any memory out of your head of him?” His words hit you violently, your pussy throbs around nothing. “I won’t yet, but if you think I don’t you’re insane.”

“I… you…”

“I’ll settle for licking the memories out of your pretty head.” You can’t stop the whine from the back of your throat then, only urging him on, he’s got you lifted on his counter then, shocking you. “Let me take care of you, angel, yeah? Just like that first night, when I first tasted you.”

“Please.” Is all you manage, and Choso’s slipping up your shirt, moaning when he finds you bare, sinking to his knees then, he’s so tall it puts him right at face height with your pussy, which his breath alone makes you jerk. “Cho…”

“So fucking perfect.” He swipes a tongue up your slit, your hands enwrap in his dark silky locks, as he shoves your thighs apart, tongue ring hitting your clit. “Mmm… so yummy, fuck.” He huffs now, black blunt nails pressing into the plush of your thighs as he slips his tongue up again.

“Cho!” You whimper, already pathetic, he watches the arousal pool from your little hole, making him throb, cock so hard he can’t take it. He starts drinking you up, the slurping sounds in the kitchen erotic, as his barbell keeps flicking over and over. “Oh my god…”

You’re already close, it’s so quick but he knows you, he knows your pussy, where you like it, what pressure, and when he’s sucking your clit in his mouth, humming on it and watching you, you fall apart. You can’t hold back at all, cumming so much it’s a mess, all over his face, which he eagerly drinks while you’re yanking his hair so hard it hurts, but it makes him harder.

“Good girl, that’s it.” Choso murmurs when he pulls back, you’re blinking vision back, blinded then, taking several breaths as he leans up, slipping a finger in your slick walls, which clench him. “So tight, fuck… soaking me, huh angel?”

“Mnh…” You can’t manage a word, hearing your greedy pussy sucking his fingers so deep. He’s curling it up, leaning to you, lips brushing yours, you lick yourself right off him, hands shaking as you clutch his shirt. “M-missed it… f-fuck…”

“I missed you, missed feeling you.” Choso’s words, his finger curling sends you back over that edge, your eyes roll back, head falling, he kisses down your throat then, slipping another finger. “Feel that stretch, huh baby?”

“Ngh!” You nod, gasping when he’s back down, using his fingers and his mouth at the same time, bringing you higher and higher, all while violet, dilated eyes watch your every expression. Choso’s pulsing himself then, as your walls flutter around him, as your slick pools down his wrist, so slippery now, all while he drinks you, watching you fall apart.

You’re shaking violently, thighs closing around his head as the orgasm washes over you, as the coil in your tummy releases, your scream is so loud your voice breaks in the middle. You’re sobbing when he’s done, it’s so fucking good, gasping for breath, he places a kiss on your pussy then, groaning at it, and you desperately yank him to you, kissing him.

He moans, deepening the kiss, and he feels it then, the sticky hot cum from eating you out start pouring in his sweats, he panics at it, pulling back, and looking at your cock drunk face, eyes dilated so much he can barely see the iris. Your cunt is drooling, he leans down to lap it up again, whimpering as his cock pushes out more cum, picturing it in you.

“Cho, lemme take care of-”

“Ah, no… I already…”

He leans up now, blushing furiously, and your eyes dart down, seeing it now, soaking wet spot on his sweats, sticky white pooling through the material. “I didn’t touch you?”

“You didn’t have to.” He smiles nervously, exhaling. “I’m sorry-”

“No! No… it means you really love it.” You whisper, biting your lip as he eases you off the counter. Choso cups your face carefully, words of love threatening to spill, but he doesn’t know if you’re ready yet.

“Loving it is an understatement, watching you cum? Your pretty face? The way your body shakes? I can’t explain it. And your taste, how wet you get… I couldn’t take it, it just… happened.” You giggle now, earning his glare. “Are you laughing at me? That cruel, hmm?”

“No, I’m just… it’s so cute!”

“Cute? Ugh.”

“I’m sorry it is sweet, and cute… and flattering.” You kiss him over and over, uncaring as his sticky lap presses against your tummy. “I can clean you up?’

“Oh god, I won’t make that right now. No, I want it for you, tonight.”

“Like the first night?”

“Mhmm.” He kisses your forehead now, exhaling. “Let me clean up and we can cuddle, if you want?”

“I want.”

Soon you’re back somewhere you never thought you’d be again, Choso Kamo’s strong arms, he’s got one wrapped around you as you lay on his chest, trailing little circles mindlessly against his bare skin, over his tattoos. You know the story behind them all, you went to him with most of them, but you can’t help but find them incredibly sexy.

His other hand brushes up and down your spine, making you shiver and hum just a bit, you lean your chin up, looking at him then, feeling the words threatening to spill, but not just yet. “I’m still scared, Cho bear.”

He frowns at that, sighing. “I know, angel. I know.”

“I want to say more, but…”

“You can wait, we have all the time, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You kiss him and smile, blissed out from his presence, from the pleasure he brings you.

“How about another date?” You nod eagerly, smiling against his neck as you snuggle up to him.

“I’d love that. I’ll pick it?”

“You’ll pick it.”

“I hope Amber will fuck off by the way?”

“You can beat her up?”

“I could.” He moans at that, yanking you closer.

“Hot.” You both giggle. “I didn’t enjoy it with her. Physical and nothing else? It felt so…”

“Empty.”

“Yeah, empty. But fuck I can’t forget the hurt on your face, and I hate it still, that it made you…”

“Cho…”

“I hate him, I’m sorry. It’s like he knew you were upset and thrived off it.” You wince now, shaking your head.

“He just wanted fun, I doubt it.”

“You’re too sweet sometimes. If I see him? I can’t make promises.”

“You’ll kick his ass for my honor huh?” He chuckles.

“For lots of reasons, starting with high school. Even then, I wish…”

“It’s okay, we have now. Let’s not focus on back then.” He wishes he could change it all though, take away your pain, but he’s so thankful, he nods now, kissing your head and continuing his gentle touches. “This feels so perfect. It’s scary how perfect.”

“It is perfect. Good night, angel.” You yawn, smiling and shutting your eyes, snuggling deeper as you fall into a slumber, the tentative happiness making you sleep quickly, though there’s fear in both your hearts, of what could come between you.

“I… love you. I’m in love with you.” Choso whispers, as he hears you lightly snore, making his heart swell in his chest, hoping one day soon he can tell you.

A/N- I know the last chap was HEAVY with the angst, but they had to go through the worst and a seperation, truly to find each other. The story isn't over, and not done yet, but I hope you're enjoying it even if it got dark for a bit here! I look forward to your comments

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[babybearnation]

now i've read all of the books beside your bed

⎇f1 drivers x gn!reader - you're a bookworm (reactions) ⎇contains: alex albon, arthur leclerc, charles leclerc, dino beganovic, george russell, zhou guanyu, kimi antonelli, lance stroll, lando norris, liam lawson, logan sargeant, max verstappen, mick schumacher, ollie bearman, oscar piastri, paul aron, pierre gasly, yuki tsunoda ⎇author's note: im a massive bookworm so this was fun!! some of these are inspired by this post from the lovely @thekoalapastriesbakery (kofi for long fics) ⎇content warnings: n/a ⎇word count: 3k

alex albon:

alex thinks it's pretty cool that you're a reader. your collection may overwhelm him at first (how many fucking books??) but he comes to love it because you love it and isn't that all that matters? he'll try and read some of the books you suggest, but he's just not interested at all in reading. he prefers to go fast.

when you start tearing your luggage apart, he's pretty confused. it's not until you turn to him and tell him you forgot the sequel to the book you're reading that he starts to understand. he'll find the nearest bookstore and take you to it when he can, happily buying you the next book in the series.

alex is gonna be a bit grumpy if you ignore him because you're reading. what book could possibly be more interesting than him? he tries to protest and you just shush him. when he sees how close you are to the end of the book, however, he'll accept it and just not-so-patiently wait for you to finish up.

arthur leclerc:

arthur does not understand what is so exciting about reading. he's constantly chasing that thrill of going fast and fast and faster even still, so he doesn't understand what's so enchanting about reading books. he's got shitty imagination (twins) so he just can't do it. but he'll admire you and your dedication to reading.

uh oh. you forgot the sequel. arthur realised before you did after you'd sent him to get you book #2. he doesn't find it, he finds #3. he has to shyly confess what happened and you are just horrified because what are you supposed to do now? and then he remembers the fact that bookstores exist and he's running off to go and get book 2 to make you happy again.

as outlined above, he doesn't understand why people read. so now that you're reading and ignoring him because of it? nuh uh. no can do. he won't allow it. he'll snatch the book from your hands and keep moving it until you snap and demand he give it back because you have one chapter left. he can wait that, surely? no, no he can't.

charles leclerc:

charles is a bit more understanding of why people like to read but he still personally doesn't like it. he loves watching you read though, because he thinks you look so peaceful and calm and happy. if you start crying though, charles will panic and offer you a hot drink in the hopes of calming you down.

you might've forgotten to bring the sequel on holiday, but charles didn't. he'd spotted the book last second and tucked it into his carry on, already anticipating the moment he'd get to sweep in and play hero. so when you start going through your bags, trying to find book 2 because book 1 ended on a cliffhanger, he triumphantly pulls it out of his bag for you. yeah, he's a bit dramatic.

charles loves watching you read (unless you're crying) so if you ignore him whilst reading, he's not gonna be too bothered about it. he'll sit there and watch you read, maybe pulling out his phone to wait until you notice his presence and answer him. he's really not bothered.

dino beganovic:

the first time dino saw you reading, he honestly didn't know what to think. he's gotten used to it now but that first time.. you read?? why? when you explain to him all the reasons you love reading, he soon finds himself falling in love with it and he'll start carrying one or two books with him when he goes to races.

you're reading the end of this book to dino in between free practice and qualifying and you get to the end and you're ready to start book 2... and it's not there. it's not in your bag. it's not in his bag. it's gone. dino, thinking fast, decides to buy the ebook and read it to you. yeah, that's a new thing you two do now.

dino will not care if you ignore him when you're reading. if it's urgent or he needs to leave, then yeah, he'll be upset, but if it's just a normal, everyday question? he's not bothered. in fact, he's abandoning his question to instead cuddle up to you and (attempt) to read over your shoulder.

george russell:

george will read the occasional thing here and there, but it's nothing compared to how much you read. he loves getting book recs from you even if it takes him for-fucking-ever to read them because he's so busy. he just wants to (try and) stay up to date with your reading!

george definitely packs extra books for you when you go on holiday just in case. so when he spots the abandoned sequel, he'll pack it for you. you won't even realise you almost left it because he'll slip it into your bag before you can notice it's gone.

he might get a bit annoyed if you ignore him because you're reading but when you finish up the book and wordlessly hand it to him, he'll quickly understand why. the book was so entrancing and now he has to read. and then he reads it and oh, he's ignoring you now. whoops?

zhou guanyu:

he loves the peace that reading can bring and he thinks you'll be the exact same and then he sees you launching a book across the room and quickly realises, no, not all reading can be peaceful. you'll have to explain the plot to him so he can understand why you threw the book otherwise he's gonna be so confused.

it's a nightmare. book 2 ends on a cliffhanger and there's no fucking book 3 in your suitcase. you could've sworn you packed it. you tear through all your luggage and end up having to call guanyu (who's out picking up food for you two) because you can't find it. turns out you did pack it... in his suitcase. oops?

guanyu gets it. he really does. sometimes books or other forms of media are just so enrapturing and intense that you can't help but zone out everything else and only focus on what you're consuming. if its urgent, he might gently push your book down, but he's not too bothered about it otherwise.

kimi antonelli:

he may be incredibly smart and have an insane memory, but this man hates reading. when he discovers you love reading, he's actually not that surprised. he'll use his excellent memory to help prevent you from forgetting any details if you're reading a sequel ages after you read the first book.

when kimi comes back from showering to find both of your suitcases completely torn apart, he's a bit confused. what did you forget to pack? when you share that you forgot the sequel to your book, he decides that you and him will find the nearest bookstore to go and buy a second copy because he's refusing to let you be grumpy over the cliffhanger lol.

yeah, no, kimi ain't letting you ignore him for no book. he has no qualms about tearing a book out of your hand until you answer his question. if he just wants your attention, well, good luck. he's stubborn and won't let you have your book back until he's content.

lance stroll:

he may not be into reading but he really likes listening to you recap the stories and books you read because he finds them so interesting. eventually, he'll end up shyly asking you to read to him because you are the best storyteller ever so he wants to consume all books through you.

you're on holiday, somewhere nice and warm, and the book ends and... there's no book 2. you'd left it at home. lance, noticing your lowkey grumpy nature about this, decides to take you to a bookstore so you can buy another copy of the sequel. you can also buy some other books in the process because he doesn't want you to run out of reading material.

lance will be a bit grumpy if you ignore him whilst you're reading only because you could be reading to him and you're not. he'll push his face into your view as he pouts and you'll very quickly learn that he wants you to read to him. he ends up hearing random handfuls of chapters from different books every now and then because he falls asleep sometimes.

lando norris:

if you think this man reads, i have news for you. he doesn't. he really doesn't understand how you like reading, to be honest. if he catches you reading f1 romances? he's demanding to know how accurate they are. the first time he found a book in your bed (it jabbed his rabs), he almost burned it (that's a half joke).

when you pout at lando and tell him you forgot the sequel to the book you've been reading all holiday, he'll aww at you and hug you, but he's celebrating the second your back is turned because now he can have all your attention. lando keeps you so busy and distracted, you forget about the book until you get home and see it on your shelf.

oh come on, you and me both know this man isn't letting you ignore him in favour of reading. the amount of time he's snatched books from your hands and flung them across the room is insane (he always replaces any books he damages though). the only way to placate him is to offer to read to him because he loves your voice so much.

liam lawson:

he might read the occasional comic book series or something like that, but full novels aren't really his forte. he very quickly learns how passionate you are about books and reading, however, and he starts to come to love and appreciate the conversations you two will have about whatever book you're currently reading.

liam is gonna be clueless on what to do when you're on holiday and you tell him you forgot to pack the sequel to the book you were reading. you're not sure you'll be able to find the book in any local shops so you reluctantly admit defeat. but don't worry, liam will cheer you up with silly theories about what happens in book 2.

honestly, liam won't care if you ignore him whilst you're reading. he understands what reading means to you and he knows how easy it is for books to capture your full attention so he'll just carry on as he was before. if he really needs you, however, he'll offer a snack as a peace offering when he interrupts you.

logan sargeant:

he's not really interested in reading but he loves listening to you talk about books. he retains absolutely no information about which series is which and who is who, but he knows your faves and he's always willing to listen to you vent about a shitty read, so that's always fun.

logan pulls the puppiest of puppy eyes when you tell him you forgot to pack the second book in the series you're reading. he isn't sure what to do and he's about to apologise and offer something else for you to do, but then he remembers the wonder of ebooks and offers to buy that for you. up to you what you say, tbh!

logan isn't too bothered about being ignored whilst you're reading. if he has a question, he'll ask you it, but if he just wants attention, he'll choose to cuddle up to you instead of taking you away from your book. he's always content to just be in your company!

max verstappen:

this man has publicly admitted he's only read like... 4 books in his life. he's honestly positive that you won't change that. and you don't, but he does learn more and more about books and sometimes references books you've told him about without realising. it's cute.

max is stressed because you're stressed because you forgot the final book in the trilogy you were reading. he's not sure how because the whole thing came in a box so why didn't you just bring the box but soon enough he's seeking out the nearest book store to get you a replacement.

yeah, no, you're not allowed to ignore him in favour of reading. if he's feeling really needy, that book is taking flying lessons. he once accidentally threw one out the window and, in return, you told some of the other drivers about it. he's never lived it down.

mick schumacher:

he probably enjoys a good book here and there so when he discovers you're a bookworm, he's happily asking you for recommendations. he may not read as much as you, but he does truly admire that you have something so enchanting in common.

darling angel baby mick schumacher would never let you forget a single book behind, even if you're just going to his parents' house for the weekend. not a single chance in hell you've forgotten. if you've somehow miraculously forgotten it, he's buying you a second copy before you can even tell him not to.

mick doesn't mind you ignoring him whilst you're reading. he gets it. he might sometimes ask you to read to him, but most of the time he'll just snatch up his own book and come join you. spending time with you is one of his favourite things, no matter how you two pass the time.

ollie bearman:

this boy don't read. he's too chaotic for that. he might listen to you talk about books occasionally, but honestly, he has no interest. you owning a large amount of books will leave him totally stunned and he'll constantly pull random books off your shelf to ask if you've read them.

ollie is terrified. you'd just finished crying over the ending of the 2nd book and then you burst into tears all over again because you didn't have the third book. he isn't sure what to do and eventually decides on offering you a different book he's "interested in" in the hopes it'll take your mind off of the missing third book.

contrary to the above, ollie isn't all that bothered about you ignoring him in favour of reading. he sees you looking cozy with a book in your hands and his first (and only) thought is: that's the perfect napping spot. yeah, nine times out of ten, your reading session is very briefly interrupted by a sleepy bear sliding into your lap. enjoy!

oscar piastri:

i think oscar would try and read but he'd never get very far and he'd end up leaving a trail of unfinished books behind him. when he finds out you're a reader, however, he tries to use that as motivation. it doesn't work but he's very supportive of your hobby nonetheless!

oscar just sighs and googles the nearest bookstore when you come to him complaining about forgetting to pack the sequel to the latest book you read. he knew you'd forgotten something so he'd already been prepared to have to rebuy something. to him, this is very tame.

isn't bothered at all that you're choosing reading over him. he'll either take this as an opportunity to nap (cuddled up to you, of course) or he'll ask you to read to him. you might have to play catch up if you're in the middle of a book or ask him to wait for you to start the next one, but he's really not that bothered.

paul aron:

another member of the might occasionally read gang. paul prefers watching stuff to reading, but a good book can easily capture his attention. he loves listening to you talk about books and if you ever want to lend him a book, he will read it cover to cover, even if he hates it, because you gave it to him.

paul isn't sure what to do when you tell him you forgot to bring the sequel of a book with you on holiday. you don't want to buy another copy because what's the point, but you're also dying to know what happens next. paul eventually decides to get the ebook for you and hopes you can make some progress with that version of the book.

this is where paul gets into his baby girl side. you're not allowed to ignore him, that's just rude. he won't tear the book away like some of the other drivers would, but he's definitely gonna call your name over and over until you answer him. it's annoying, sure, but it works 100% of the time.

pierre gasly:

he's not really a reader but the first time he discovered you were, he asked you to read to him and now he's obsessed with books... only if you narrate them. it's a bit silly and he'll never tell anyone lest he be teased horrifically for it, but he's a biiiiit sappy.

another one who knows instantly to find the nearest bookstore and get you a replacement copy when you tell him you forgot to pack the sequel to the book you're reading. he'll even offer to let you get a few more books as well to avoid this issue happening again. it's charming, really.

you're his personal audiobook narrator, remember? you physically cannot ignore him whilst you're reading. he will push his way into your personal bubble and impatiently wait for you to read the book to him. again, it's a bit silly, but you go along with it because you still get to read at the end of the day.

yuki tsunoda:

yuki's probably read a few manga here and there whilst growing up, but he's not really a novel reader. if you read manga, he might ask to borrow your favourites, but he'll let you keep the long, wordy books to yourself. feel free to read him to sleep though!

when you tell yuki you've forgotten the sequel to the book you just finished reading, he's a bit awkward. does he offer to buy you another copy? or does he try and push you towards reading something else? by the time he's made a decision, you're already halfway through your next book.

you're not allowed to ignore yuki ever, let alone when you're reading. he'll bully his way onto your lap and pout at you until you put the book down and give him a sufficient enough amount of kisses. its over 100 kisses btw so i hope you weren't in the middle of a chapter!

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[edward-munson]

i'm right here - E.M. * Chapter Three

Warning: angst, slight mention of smut (MDI), mentions of the Upside Down, fluff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem! Harrington reader

Word count: 6.4k

Previous Chapter

⋆˚✿˖°

You feel Eddie delicately hovering above you, one hand is cupping the side of your jawline, while the other one he uses to hold your waist. You're lying on his bed, both of you had just watched a movie, while eating some snacks and drinking wine. He rubs his thumb against your lower lip, licking his own when he notices how pink it looks under the moonlight.

His breath picks up when he decides to ghost his lips over yours, moving ever so slowly. You can't help but tug on his frizzy curly hair, it's fluffy and it feels nice to touch. When you feel his gentle peck, you close your eyes and savor the moment. It starts slow, and it burns your body.

The heat between your legs starts to grow as soon as he moves his hand from your waist and rests it over your thigh. His breath fans your mouth when he opens his mouth to finally kiss you. His tongue is hot, and it still tastes like the wine he was drinking. You grip the back of his hair and he hisses to your touch, groping and humping you. His hand starts to roam through your exposed skin, and it's inches from touching your heat.

Your underwear starts to bother you and you let out a raspy groan when both of your tongues finally touch. He moans under his breath and his crotch is almost touching against yours. Eddie shifts above you and finally uses one of his ringed fingers to feel your warmth and how wet you are under him.

It's the loud gasp that startles you from your dream, and you wake up feeling dizzy. It was just a dream.

"Shit" You mumble as you feel your heart racing. Your hands are trembling and you feel the sweat stream from your neck down to your chest.

Your legs are opened and you're definitely soaked. It felt so real, you could've sworn he was really there, touching you. As you get up from your bed, you go to the bathroom and wash up your face. This could help a little after that dream. You look at yourself in the mirror and it's like you just had sex. But you didn't, and it frustrates you that now you've gotten to the point of thinking about him even when you're dreaming.

After the gathering a few days ago at your house, you and Eddie weren't being awkward to each other anymore. You would have a small conversation during the class, and when you were sitting together during the breaks. He still seemed a little sad because of Chrissy, but looked better than he did weeks before.

You weren't sure if you should tell your brother, which doesn't seem like a good idea. Well, first because he's a guy. And second, because he's your brother. You just know how you're going to react when you're close to him, and it's going to be awkward again. You didn't want that to happen either.

So, now as you lean against the counter at Family Video, you tap your fingers incessantly over it waiting for Robin to digest what you had just told her. Steve isn't working today, so you use the opportunity to talk to her without him being nosy and inappropriate.

"So... you guys were going at it?" She asks and you nod. Robin nods and leans by your side "Wow. Munson would definitely freak out if he heard about that"

"I know. It would probably be completely weird to be around him at this point"

"Are you sure it was him? It could be, I don't know, Jonathan or that really cute guy from senior year" She tilts her head and ponders about the situation. You laugh.

"I only saw Jonathan like once, and I have no fucking idea who you're talking about" You knit your eyebrows playfully and she agrees, because you still don't know everyone from school. "It was definitely Eddie"

"Definitely me what?" Both you and Robin look astonished as he shows up unannounced behind you.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you take in his sight and you open your mouth, closing it as fast as you can. She clears her throat and gives him a nervous smile.

He's holding two tapes in his hands and looks at the two of you as he waits for a response. Eddie lifts his hands to show Robin he's returning the tapes and drops them at the counter.

"It was, uh– It was you who rented this movie! She wanted to get it as well" She picks up the first tape from the small pile and shakes it in front of you and him.

Your face scrunches up from her improvising, but he doesn't notice it.

He then looks at you and widens his eyes "Since when do you like Scarface?" Eddie seems interested in the thought of you liking these kinds of movies, but you have no idea what the hell it is about.

You shrug and look down at the tape, not wanting to stare at his eyes. It's going to remind you of your dream and you don't want to deal with that right now.

"I don't know, I can change my taste in movies. Right, Rob?" Your eyes throw daggers at her and she shrinks, slumping her shoulders, but still remaining in character.

"Yeah! Definitely, totally! I mean, I like romcoms a lot and Steve always tells me I should watch things like Terminator and shit like that" She starts to ramble and Eddie chuckles at her.

"Okay" He smiles while looking at you and shifts his weight as he looks at Robin next. You feel your cheeks burn under his stare and it's embarrassing "You want the full price or can I pay the rest next week?"

Robin agrees and takes his money, looking at you. She gives you a comforting smile, even though you feel nervous just by standing beside him. Eddie turns his face at you and smiles again.

You smile back at him, your stomach is flipping and you feel your hands sweating. Jesus, this is becoming so hard to stand. It feels as though you're a 12-year-old girl with a crush.

"If you're renting this one, you're welcome to watch with me if you want to" He points at the tape you're holding, his face showing his full grin at you.

You're still in a daze as you look at him, who waits for you to answer his invitation. He's leaning against the counter, while Robin is somewhere else. You chuckle nervously, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as you hold the tape firmly in your hand, afraid it will fall off.

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to Ed"

He mumbles a "great" and calls out Robin by her last name and she appears from one of the aisles. You just know she was waiting for your moment with him to end so she could show up. He thanks her for the service and greets both of you with a tap on the shoulders. Eddie takes a little longer as he rubs his fingers over your shirt and cocks his head when he says "see you".

"Oh my God, you lovebirds are watching a movie together!" She says it a little louder and does happy jumps like you're still in middle school.

You laugh at her reaction, even though you still feel a little nervous from your interaction with him. Robin says you were going to be fine, that it's okay to feel nervous when you like someone.

In fact, two days later you watched the movie and you were pretty sure you hated it for the most part. Especially because you couldn't focus entirely on the story, and Eddie made sure to pay attention even though he had watched it already. He explained scenes you didn't get, and even paused it when he was away from the TV because he still wanted to be there to watch it with you.

It was in the middle of it that you realized nothing was going to happen, so you tried to feel relaxed and stopped tensing up. He noticed you were nervous, though. When he hung his arm around the couch, barely touching your arms, he could feel how rigid they were and didn't try anything.

He was nervous, too. Eddie hasn't had any movie time with anyone since he started going out with Chrissy. And he barely watched movies with her because she always had an excuse to not see them with him. It was nice to have someone like you who would accept watching it even if you didn't like it. And you told him you didn't, he laughed and said it was okay. You tried to make him believe you really wanted to watch it because you were curious, but maybe he didn't fall for it.

He dropped you off at your house when Steve wasn't there and you almost invited him over. But what for? You were so edgy you couldn't even think of something you both could do besides watching a movie. So, you hopped off his van and said goodnight. He left a kiss on your forehead before that and it made your heart flutter. This time, he called you sweetheart.

It only made things worse. You didn't know how you would handle your feelings anymore.

-

Eddie watches over his shoulder as Jason leans against Chrissy while they're sitting at a table at the library. He's working his shift after school, placing a few books on the shelf. He didn't when they came in, but he noticed the giggling she was giving to her partner. When he looked over to his right, he saw them getting pretty close to each other, almost sharing a kiss.

He silently scoffed and rolled his eyes to the back of his head. He was trying to pretend it's not bothering him how they act when they're together in public and it annoys him. Eddie doesn't feel bad because of her anymore, he feels angry at her. He's angry that she wasn't honest with him and that she's just like Jason, only he never realized it before.

Steve spent about two minutes calling out his friend, snapping his fingers beside him but he didn't hear him. Eddie was too absorbed into his own thoughts.

"Eddie!"

"What?" He answered through gritted teeth, now finally turning his head to look at Steve.

"Would you stop looking at them?"

"Yeah, sure. They're just about to swallow each other's tonsils in front of people. But yeah, of course I can" He spits over a sarcastic tone.

Steve rolls his eyes, leaning against the shelf and slapping Eddie over his head. "Don't be so fucking dumb, dude"

"I'm just... angry at them. They're absolutely ridiculous. How did I never notice that before?"

Steve glances at him with a knowing look, because he knew Chrissy wasn't meant for him, he knew she wasn't good for his friend. But he didn't want to say anything because it wasn't his right to.

Your brother rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder, comforting him. "Let them be assholes together. You're good without her anyway"

He was right, Eddie was much better without the girl who said so much shit about him before.

Steve invites him to go camping later that night, saying your other friends are also gonna be there. He ponders for several seconds, knowing the lake still gives him shivers and it triggers him, even though it's not Lovers Lake.

"Is little Harrignton going too?" He asks about you and Steve chuckles at how he calls you.

"Yeah, she will"

It makes Eddie nervous to know you're going to be there too. You've never seen him being vulnerable over something so terrifying before, even though he had to deal with his dad doing drugs and leaving him. He got over it.

But the fact he's still remembering the Upside Down and the gate deep in the lake makes his skin crawl and he clenches his jaw at the thought of it. He knows you're a little familiar with the story, but he doesn't want you to know the aftermath of it.

It's the fact that it's so hard for him to deal with, that he thinks no one deserves to deal with that either.

And so it happens. He's trapped in the blue looking Hawkins from the Upside Down. He watches from a distance when the vines from the floor wrap you and pull you down without struggling. Steve is right behind you, screaming your name as he sees Vecna floating above you. Robin tries to shoot flames at him but it only makes him stronger.

One small movement and the Demobats start flying towards Eddie. Not all of them, but a good amount of them. They immediately bite into his skin, ripping off his flesh as he screams louder than he can. Steve doesn't know where he goes. He's in the middle of the fight, deciding what he should do.

"Just go! Go save her! I'm out" Eddie yells. His breath is shaky and he tries to breathe but it's impossible.

And listens to himself screaming painfully as he sees the town crumble to ashes before his eyes. Another bite rips his skin off and he gasps, his throat burns from inside out.

You flinch when he's yelling and your first instinct is to wake him up. Eddie sat up straight, holding a pocket knife against your neck. If it wasn't for your reflex of holding his forearm, he would've stabbed you right there.

Shocked, you looked at him with widened eyes and whispered his name. "It's just me, Eddie. It's me"

His eyes are a mixture of dread, panic and relief. Even though you'd say yes, actually desperate as well, seeing what he was about to do.

You both look at each other panting, eyes fixed and still holding up the knife he was about to drop on the floor.

You hear the noise, he's shaking when he holds tight on your jawline and pulls you for a desperate hug. "Fuck, sorry. I'm so sorry, shortie. I didn't- I didn't mean it"

He has trouble breathing and you notice he's having an asthma attack. If you didn't know better, he's still carrying his inhaler in his backpack. You rush to it and hold it for him, but he's too distracted to do it himself.

You do it for him, he inhales deeply as he tries to focus on the oxygen he needs. He's still shaking really bad and you're pretty sure you're not any different from him. You open your tent so he gets fresh air, watching when Steve, Robin and the others rush to you both.

"What the fuck was that?" Nancy asks worriedly, next to Jonathan.

You don't notice when Eddie and Steve share a look, and your brother finds the pocket knife laying on the floor. You look back to Eddie, who's huddled in the corner, his knees are bent and he rests his elbows over it, covering his face.

You look so lost in the midst of the chaos. Steve helps you up and out of the tent, and Robin pulls Eddie out of it next. He walks out to the opposite direction, lighting a cigarette and nervously fiddling his rings.

"Why does he have a fucking pocket knife while he sleeps?" Was your first question when Steve stood beside you.

He sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair. He knows why, and he doesn't want you to know why.

"Steve?"

"He, uh-" He scratches the back of his head, squinting his eyes shut.

You wait for him to give you an answer. You look away and see Eddie on the verge of a meltdown. He's definitely struggling with something.

Steve wasn't sure he should tell you. He didn't know if Eddie would accept it. But you've always been his friend, you should know. Not from your brother, though.

He motions his head to his friend, meaning you should go talk to him. You're a little apprehensive of doing so.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you approaching him, timidly. He blows the smoke far from you and takes a deep and sharp breath as you stand next to him, looking out at the lake.

"You good?" You ask, not really sure how to start the conversation.

He chuckles, nervously of course. It's not directed at you, it's because of the situation itself. He throws the cigarette at the lake and turns to look at you. Immediately his eyes become glassy and he can't hold back the huff. It's still a little hard to breathe. But what's worse than that it's the fresh memories of the nightmare he just had.

A few hours ago, when you arrived at the lake, he was pretty sure he would be just fine knowing he was with his friends. It was the first time you were doing something like that since you got back to Hawkins and he was loving it. Eddie tried to focus on having fun and doing camping stuff with all of you. He tried his best to not let the door of the back of his mind let him remember the horrors.

And he did it. Even though a few times he would look into the lake and imagine Vecna would just show up and kill all of you. He shook it off, it was going to be fine. They killed him. You were all fine.

He tried to smoke a lot less because you were there. You were the one who always asked him to stop smoking and he knew it was too hard to let go of the addiction. But for you, he would try. And he did. It was a bit difficult, but he was having fun and laughing his ass off. Playing games was helping him a lot.

Seeing you there helped a lot. For him, though, it was too complicated as well. Because he wanted to be with you, he wanted to go out with you, he wanted to be around you a lot more.

But he couldn't fathom the fact you were the only one "immune" to the whole thing. You were the only one who didn't experience anything like they did, and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to protect you, even if it meant not being able to see you more. Even if it meant he couldn't have you like he wished.

Now he stands in front of you. He glances at you and he sees how worried you are, how scared you were when he realized what he was doing. He sees the way you're already trying to be there for him when he doesn't want you to.

Eddie runs his fingers through his hair mercilessly and messes with the curls. He nervously rubs his hand over his chin, not looking directly at you now. He doesn't want to hide things from you, but he doesn't want you to know what happened to him before. He doesn't need to be pitied or treated differently because of that.

But he just knows that if he keeps hiding it from you, it's gonna be worse for him. Sooner or later you'd find out, and demand him an answer.

He does it like he's ripping a band-aid off.

"I have nightmares. Okay? Almost every single damn day"

His words come out bitter, and you're not sure how to react to that. You don't wanna say sorry, because he might have heard that a thousand times.

"I dream about the same thing. I dream about Vecna and the fucking Demobats. They're chewing on me. They're eating me alive" He closes his eyes and you see tears washing over his face.

"It's always so real. I feel them ripping my skin off, I feel the pain. I see Steve there, and I see our friends and they're all helpless. And tonight, it was different. Because, fuck" Eddie lets out a nervous laugh and you watch him intently. "You were there too. And I couldn't save you. I just couldn't"

You take a step closer to him, holding his shaking hands, pulling them closer to you. He doesn't want to look at you, he doesn't look into your eyes. But you stare into his soul and try to take in his pain, because you know it wasn't easy for them. You know Steve dreams about it too, he's always talking about it. But it's not even as bad as it is for Eddie.

He doesn't hold back the tears. He let them fall freely and you dry them with your thumbs. You lean your forehead against his and let him mourn. Maybe that's what he needs, someone to cry on.

"It's... so fucked up. I don't know why I have these nightmares all the time. It feels like I wasn't supposed to come back"

You close your still forcefully and whisper "shut up" to him, but he doesn't. He still complains and says how much he didn't deserve a second chance.

"Eddie, just stop. You don't need to relive it every time. You should see the therapist, get some help. Find some comfort"

He gives you a dry laugh "Easy for you to say, shortie. You don't get to be in my head every fucking day"

"You're right, I don't. But you don't deserve to be in pain and suffer whenever it happens"

You both stay silent. He's just enjoying how close you are and the way you hold his hands and how he leans against you. He tries to absorb your words and works his mind to forget what happened but it's so hard. He hears the sound of the lake and it still makes him shiver. "It's not Lovers Lake. This is not the lake of the gate. He's dead, it's all gone". He thinks.

Steve is watching you from afar. His arms are crossed against his chest and he rummages through his lower lip, because he doesn't know what you're dealing with. He likes to think Eddie is gonna be fine as long as he stays with you, as long as he's around you. He would like to see his friend happy, for once at least. For more than just a few months.

You walk in the tent again, sitting as you wait for Eddie to make himself comfortable over the duvet you spread over the floor. You offered to be the bigger spoon and he laughed. It sounded so adorable coming from him, especially now that he's vulnerable.

He lies on his side, waiting for you to spoon him as you throw an arm around him. You rest your face against his shoulder and smell him. He's always smelling like musk and cigarettes, it's really charming. Even though you hate when he smokes.

Not long after you're both lying there, Eddie shifts and turns to his other side to face you. He places his hand over your face, splaying it out and he rubs his thumb against your soft skin. You hum to the touch and close your eyes.

He likes the sight. He likes the feeling, the touch. His stomach flutters and he feels nauseous in a good way. Eddie presses his lips to your forehead and spends several seconds just like that.

He takes in your smell and tries to lock it inside his brain. When he finally pulls back, he's caught on you looking at him. You smile and he smiles back at you.

"I'm glad you're back, honey" He whispers before scooting closer to your neck, leaning his head over your shoulder as he closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

~ 

Eddie feels like everyone is looking at him somehow. He glances at the group of the party people, Jason’s group and the cheerleaders group. They’re all gossips. They’re like vultures looking for a piece of garbage, they just sneak their way into someone’s life and expose them. It’s not different this time. 

It seems like they’re whispering behind his back and he doesn’t know why. While Mike rambles about a new D&D campaign, he just keeps trying to listen to whatever anyone else is talking about. He feels his ears burn when Chrissy looks at him and giggles at her cheerleader friend. It bothers him. He whips his head and looks at the table you’re sitting in with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and your brother, but you’re all too distracted to notice it. 

Maybe it’s all in his head, maybe he’s too paranoid over something that doesn’t exist. Jason stands from his seat, dumping the rest of his food in the trash, walking towards the aisle where Eddie is sitting. He leans back against a pillar, grinning slightly, his voice casual but loaded with an amused tone. 

“You ever wonder what it’s like to just... not sleep, Eddie? I mean, really. Or sleep at peace. That way, you’d never have to deal with those crazy dreams, right?” 

Eddie’s hand paused mid air as he lifted his fork. His heart skipped a beat. His nightmares had been getting worse, each one more vivid and unsettling than the last. Jason’s words weren’t an accident, he could tell. He hasn’t told anyone about his nightmares, his friends knew. God, even Gareth knew about them. And you were the last to know. 

But you wouldn’t do it, right? Why would you tell anyone? Jason’s smirk deepened as he continued, barely glancing at Eddie, focusing at a blank spot ahead of him. 

“I’m sure it’s tough, you know, when you close your eyes and suddenly you're not sure what's real anymore. Kind of like... Dungeons and Dragons?”

Dustin and Mike stare at each other perplexed, Jeff and Gareth do the same, and the four of them share a look. Eddie clenches his jaw, putting the fork on his plate and forcing himself to look at the blond in front of him, who had a mocking smile on his face. 

“The fuck are you talking about, you prick?” The metalhead could feel his blood pumping in his ears and his heart was beating so fast, he was almost choking on it. 

“Yeah, but it’s probably better than... waking up and realizing you're not in control of anything. It’s all just... slipping away, piece by piece.” Jason chuckled under his breath. “Wouldn’t want to live like that, right?”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tapping against the table. He could feel the heat of Jason’s words seeping into his skin, prickling his nerves. The basketball leader wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was mocking him. Instead, it felt like he was enjoying every second of it because his voice was too smooth, his posture too relaxed, like he had already won some invisible game.

You finally noticed it happening, you didn’t see it before because Jason was being subtle. He wasn’t being loud or conspicuous. He knew what he was doing. And you could see the way Eddie was gripping tight on the table and how the other boys were too uncomfortable on their seats. 

“Oh, God. Not again” You murmur and your friends all turn their heads to look at the scene. 

Jason was still leaning against the pillar, a smug on his face as he doesn’t actually stare at Eddie, but rather just pushes his buttons. Whatever it was, it made Eddie stand abruptly. 

He pushed his chair back with a loud scrape. He wasn’t sure whether he was more frustrated with Jason or with himself for letting him get under his skin. Without another word, he grabbed his tray and walked away, the sound of Jason’s laughter trailing behind him. He looked around carefully, and yes, most groups were looking at him and whispering whatever it was. 

Eddie didn’t spend another second in the cafeteria, rushing out and grabbing your arm forcefully during the way, leading you back to the classroom storage. He pinned you to the wall, his brows were furrowed and his mouth was closed on a line. You knew he was mad, you just didn’t know why it was directed at you.

“Did you tell them, Harrington?” Him using your last name wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was his tone that scared you.

You froze for a moment, your back still facing the wall. Your expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. “Tell them what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about” Eddie pressed, his voice thick with frustration. “My nightmares. Did you tell people about them?”

You blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. You took a slight step back, your face turning to something like defense. “What? Eddie, no. I- I didn’t tell anyone about your nightmares. Why would I do that?”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t sure why it hurt so much, maybe it was because he thought he could trust you, or maybe it was the way the rumors had made their way to him, but the sting was undeniable. “Then how the hell did people find out about them?” His voice was louder now, and he noticed you flinched to his tone. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, now your voice grew louder as you took a step toward him. “I swear, Eddie, I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t even know about them until you told me, and you never gave me permission to share that with anyone.”

Eddie’s eyes searched yours, trying to look for your features to falter. He wanted to believe you, but something in the pit of his stomach twisted as he remembered the way their eyes had shifted when they saw him.

“I- I don’t know, shortie. It’s just… it feels like everyone’s talking about it. Like they know things they shouldn’t” Eddie admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I can’t deal with that.”

Your eyes softened, and you shook your head, your expression showing disappointment. “Eddie, I’m sorry that you’re going through this, but I promise you, I haven’t told anyone. If people know, it’s because of their own assumptions or something they overheard. I never shared anything.”

Eddie looked down, his hand running through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t sure if he felt more betrayed or more embarrassed. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that people know, or the fact that you think I’d believe you wouldn’t tell anyone”

Your face fell, your lips were trembling slightly. “You think I’d do that to you? After everything? After what we’ve been through?” Your voice cracked, a flicker of hurt flashing in your eyes. “Eddie, I care about you. I would never betray you like that. It’s unbelievable that you think I’d be capable of something like that.”

Your words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, the anger in Eddie’s chest deflated. He felt a sharp pang of guilt, his frustration dissipating as he realized just how deeply he’d misunderstood you. But it didn’t erase the feeling that something was off, something out of his control.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible now. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just… I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

You nod, but still you feel like you were punched in the guts. You had never told anything to anyone in that school, let alone something so personal about Eddie. And you look at him, your eyes twitching as they become wet. You didn’t want to just cry because he didn’t believe you, you felt like all these years of friendship didn’t mean anything to him. 

“Yeah, right. We’ve been friends for like, what, three weeks right Eddie?” He squints his eyes shut and takes in your sharp answer. He knows he fucked up. “I mean, why would you trust me when I’m a new friend to you?”

You don’t wait for a response as you brush past him, your shoulder pushing him out of the way. He stands there in confusion and frustration. He watches as you leave him alone and disappear out of the room. He kicks the first thing he sees and huffs a loud sigh. 

-

You hated how you wanted to avoid Eddie every day during classes, during the break, and everywhere your friends would go together. Because he was always there, you cross paths in the hallway and he throws a guilty look at you. You know he feels bad, you also feel bad for him, but you can’t stop thinking about the way he confronted you back then. 

And Eddie couldn’t stop himself from looking at you, the guilt weighing him down. Why didn’t you just trust her? he thought, frustration bubbling up. She didn’t do anything wrong. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the knot in his chest only grew tighter. That was before he found out Robin talked about it with Vickie, thinking they were alone in the bathroom. 

Turns out one of Chrissy’s friends was also there and she did what they would all do. She told them. And now almost the entire school knew about it. Robin just wanted to explain to her girlfriend why Eddie was seeming so off lately, and then she told her. She didn’t know it would end up like that. And now Eddie won’t look at her either, no matter how many times and how much she apologizes to him. 

By the time the school day ended that week, Eddie was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. The guilt, the self-doubt, and the fear of losing you gnawed at him with every step. He watched as you slipped out the door, your pace quickening as if you couldn’t wait to leave.

He told himself he would talk to you tomorrow, that he would apologize and fix things, but deep down, he knew the longer he let this silence sink in, the harder it would be.

When you turned around the corner near the back of the school, you saw him. He was leaning against the wall, the faint smell of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. He didn’t notice you at first, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, as if the weight of whatever he was carrying was too heavy to hold up anymore.

The sight of him, smoking like this, was strange and you hated seeing him with a cigarette.

“Eddie” you said, your voice sharper than you meant.

He froze, but didn’t turn to face you right away. Instead, he exhaled the smoke and crushed the cigarette under his boot. When he finally faced you, his eyes narrowed slightly, a guarded expression on his face.

“Why are you hiding here?” 

He doesn’t look at you for a moment, he shakes his head and mumbles “Nothing”

“Don’t lie” You snap at him, stepping forward, closer to him. “You’ve been acting like a damn ghost. I’m not stupid, Eddie. You thought I told everyone about your nightmares. About what you’ve been dealing with”

“And I’m sorry, okay? I’m fucking sorry I doubted you” When Eddie finally glanced up at you, his eyes were holding tiredness and angriness. Not towards you, but at everything that has been happening. “I’m just trying to keep some distance”

Your sarcastic laugh filled the air. “You’re doing it perfectly, you didn’t even apologize after that day!”

Eddie’s face twisted with frustration, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I don’t want you involved in this mess” he spat, voice thick with emotion. “You don’t get it. If you knew everything, it would just complicate things.”

“Complicate things?” You shook your head, stepping even closer now, too close you’re almost bumping your nose into his. “So you keep me at arm’s length, push me away, all because you think you’re protecting me?”

Eddie’s eyes flickered with something. Maybe it was regret, guilt, maybe even fear. “I didn’t want to bring you into this” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. If you knew what we've all been through, you would understand”

The roughness in his voice caught you off guard. You were angry, sure, but you could see that this wasn’t about mistrust. It was about his own insecurities. And it hurt more than anything.

“Eddie” Your voice softened as you looked deep in his eyes. “You don’t protect me by pushing me away. You don’t protect anyone like that.”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak, his eyes avoiding yours as if he was trying to figure out what to say, or if there was even anything to say. Then, slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a touch so tender it made your heart skip.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his thumb grazing your skin softly, almost passionately. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that”

You looked at him, the anger still simmering, but there was something else too. Something softer, something that made the hurt a little easier to deal with. “You’ve got to start trusting me again, Eddie. I’m not like them. I’m not going to turn my back on you”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, the vulnerability in his expression too brutal to ignore. He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, almost like an instinct, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

The world seemed to slow as he leaned in, his breath mixing with yours, the emotion in his gaze nearly too much to handle.

You didn’t pull away, but instead, you held your breath, your heart racing. The space between you both was nonexistent now, the pull so magnetic that it almost hurt. Eddie’s lips hovered near yours for a fraction of a second, the silence screaming louder than anything.

He almost closed the gap, if it wasn’t for Dustin’s loud shriek calling out his name. Like an instinct, you pull back and glance at each other. Your heart is almost beating in your throat and your hands are sweating. Eddie looks at you pleadingly and before he leaves, he kisses you on the forehead and trots to where Dustin is calling him. 

You didn’t even know you were holding your breath until you’re out of oxygen.

⋆˚✿˖°

@thegirlthatsfalling @strangemaximoff @readergf @sheneedsrocknroll92

[moonstrider9904]

Never eat a furry beet and other valuable life lessons

Chapter 4 of Le Coeur

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Next chapter (coming soon!) | Previous chapter

Chapter summary: When Nea invites Steb over to her apartment for the first time, a quiet movie night results in both Nea and Blu getting tipsy.

Tags/warnings: Steb x Original Female Character, other OCs are in the fic as well. Canon divergence, flirting, pining, crushes, teasing, fluff, alcohol consumption and mild drunkenness.

Word count: 7.2k

Music: how many times, le coeur

A/N: Happy new year 2025, everyone! Sorry for taking longer with this chapter. I would have written this quicker, but I got a gigantic cold and only had so much brain space. Anyways, thank you to everyone who reads this and to the lovely people who comment. You all give me so much life 💖

To be the pastry chef of the Coffeewick meant being up considerably earlier than most of the people in Piltover. Blu was so used to it that she would often be awake that early even if it was a day off, and while most would whine about an early schedule, Blu cherished the opportunity to see the sky getting brighter with the sunrise. Her fuzzy, mouse-like ears would twitch in the direction of bird song, and her feet would carry her around in little dances in front of the oven while the pastries baked, oftentimes without her even realizing her acts. She could tell what time it was by the amount of people walking outside the coffee shop and the sounds that came from the street as well as from the Coffeewick's second story; Blu was all too familiar with the sound of water running through the pipes within the walls letting her know that Nea was already awake.

On that particular day, the water began running through the pipes about an hour sooner than it usually did, and the moment it began sounding, Blu stood completely still and stared at the spot in the wall where the pipes hid behind with her brows furrowed together like her own knitting needles. Had Nea mentioned she'd be up earlier? If so, for what? Blu could recall every detail from her century-and-a-bit-more of life, but she didn't recall Nea mentioning anything about getting up exactly one hour before she usually did on that day. Blu shrugged it off and continued her own activities, figuring she'd eventually find out the reason behind Nea's sudden change in habit.

But the next thing that caught Blu's attention was that, despite Nea having gotten up a whole hour before, she didn't head downstairs to begin prepping the Coffeewick earlier. It would seem that Nea's spare hour would be dedicated to her place, and Blu could pick up sounds of steps and shuffling from upstairs in the meantime, but it was hard to guess what Nea was doing without getting too creative or too dull. She could have been doing anything from getting a head start on cleaning to rearranging the apartment to house a dragon egg—one wouldn't know until they saw Nea's place.

There was some idle time in which her pastries would only sit in the oven and bake, and Blu decided to head up the stairs and figure out what was going on with Nea. She gave three gentle knocks on the door before opening it and letting herself in, and at first glance, Nea's apartment was unchanged. Squinting her eyes in mild suspicion, Blu stood under the doorframe and looked around, finding telltale signs of Nea's antics from furniture surfaces without a spot of dust on them to the faint scent of cinnamon-apple that filled the apartment. Finally, Nea emerged from her bedroom looking fully ready to head down to work, and she smiled brightly at Blu when she noticed the Yordle standing there.

"I'm just about to head down," Nea said.

"I heard you were up earlier," Blu stated.

"Yeah," Nea confirmed nonchalantly.

"So, what gives?" Blu put her Yordle paws on her hips. "You never clean before work, and even when you do clean, you never leave the place looking so..." Blu looked around the apartment again as she searched for the correct words. "Effortlessly perfect."

"Thanks," Nea smiled. "I was going for that."

Blu raised a brow. "But why?"

Nea's look of relaxed confidence turned into that of a puppy who'd just made a mess on the carpet and knew he was in for a spanking. "Okay, I have a confession to make."

"Oh, yay," Blu deadpanned.

"I couldn't exactly leave this cleaning for after work because, well..." Nea began as her cheeks started getting pink. "I'm gonna need the time after work to touch up my makeup, do my hair, change clothes, lay out snacks..."

Blu tilted her head. "Impromptu movie night?"

"Yes," Nea said. "But... not with you."

"Oh, just say who you invited," Blu blurted.

"Steb."

Blu's eyes widened in shock and a hint of protest. "Um... what?"

"I invited him over," Nea said. "He's coming here tonight and we're just gonna hang out."

A series of emotions ran past Blu's eyes from curiosity to distaste.

"Um... how did that happen?" Blu walked herself over to stand in front of Nea.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know that despite the bird incident, your party wasn't a failure," Nea began.

"None of my parties are failures," Blu intervened. "Go on."

"And judging by the fact that he felt he needed to bring someone to a large gathering, I figured maybe something more lowkey would help Steb feel more at ease," Nea explained. "So a simple night to hang out and talk seemed alright. I was waiting for him to know when he'd be off duty so that he could hang out without any pressure, and, well, tonight's the night."

"The night for what?" Blu pressed.

"For us to finally be alone together for a bit," Nea replied calmly. "Get to know each other."

"Unchaperoned?" Blu questioned.

"Oh, unclutch your pearls," Nea snickered. "You sound like a first generation councilman."

"Look, he seems nice and I get you like him but don't you think it's a little soon for you two to...?" Blu asked, and her eyes suddenly widened in shock before she ran herself to Nea's bedroom. Nea followed after her and saw Blu was searching the top of her made bed and her bedside tables as if she were looking for clues in a crime scene.

"What are you doing now?" Nea leaned on the doorframe and crossed her arms.

"Trying to find rose petals, aphrodisiac scented candles, anything that might suggest-" Blu paused to shudder. "I don't even want to think about it."

"Okay, just stop," Nea reached for Blu on her bed and set her down on the ground, kneeling in front of the little Yordle. "I'm not planning on getting into bed with him tonight. So you can stop worrying about that. All I want is to spend some time with him. But if it makes you feel better, you're invited. I'm sure he won't have any problem with you being there, and neither will I."

"Really?" Blu frowned, but Nea could pick up on the softness hidden behind her furious mask.

"Really," Nea replied. "If he's gonna come here more often, he'll have to get used to you either way."

"Get through me first is more like it," Blu muttered.

Nea leaned in and hugged Blu tight, just enough not to squeeze the air out of the Yordle. "Thank you for looking out for me."

Blu finally softened and leaned her head on Nea's shoulder. "Can I pick the movie?"

"Only if you don't hog the potato chips," Nea replied softly.

"Deal," Blu gently pulled away from the hug. "Now, I have to get back to check the oven."

"I'll be right down," Nea replied. "And don't you worry about a thing. I'm the one who should be nervous for tonight."

Blu giggled. "Wait 'til I tell Donnie and Lily about this."

Nea chuckled. "Knock yourself out."

Feeling mildly less distaste for what the night had in store for her, Blu retreated downstairs one more time and checked on her pastries. Not long after that, Nea went downstairs to open the Coffeewick, and from that moment on, it was business as usual. Blu kept a close eye on Nea, finding that even with the plans she had for the night, Nea was fairly focused on the job. She wasn't giggling like a schoolgirl or constantly blushing, she wasn't confused or off in a daze. She was simply Nea, the trustworthy, professional barista acing every order in the queue and brewing every cup with the same intent and passion.

For a moment, Blu felt as if her best friend wasn't being taken away.

Still, the day went by quickly, and it was time to close in what felt like a blink of an eye. Surely, the hours had zoomed by as quickly as Nea had wanted them to, and with the Coffeewick closed up, Nea was ready to head back upstairs to her apartment. She changed into one of her nicest sweaters, a fitted black one that was more like a wool blouse that greatly enhanced her silhouette and had a wide outstanding neckline that nearly reached her shoulders and showed off her collarbones. She styled her short hair into curls rather than the usual waves, and she touched up her eye makeup and lipstick. She didn't add any blush to her cheeks. It was enough simply to think about Steb for her to feel the apples of her cheeks turning pink, and if she dwelled on the thought of her welcoming him into her home and sitting next to him on the couch, she'd be flustered enough to be on the verge of swooning.

Finally, Nea sprayed herself with her favorite perfume. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and feared for a moment she may have dolled herself up a little too much for a simple night watching movies on the couch, but she brushed off the thought. As simple as the encounter would be, it was worth cleaning up nice. Steb was worth it. And with a little smile at her reflection, Nea wandered from her room to the kitchen and set out all the snacks that they would need on the coffee table in front of the couch, making sure not to neglect the bowl of chips specifically meant for Blu. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, indicating that the time for the date to begin was near—was it really a date? Nea still wasn't very sure what to call it. Either way, Steb would be there soon, and Blu would probably be at Nea's doorstep in mere seconds.

When the sky outside was almost dark, Nea heard the doorbell ringing from downstairs. Coming to a brief halt, Nea looked around her apartment to make sure one last time that everything was in top shape, and in her stillness, she could feel her heart beginning to race. Finally, she let herself out the door and down the stairs, approaching the Coffeewick door. Nea couldn't help the wide grin that appeared on her lips when she opened the door for Steb, and when he smiled back at her, she let out a little giggle.

"I'm so glad you made it," Nea said as she invited him in.

"Thanks," Steb said, making the one-syllable word sound elegant in his thick accent. "I just still think it's lucky both of our days off lined up for tomorrow."

"That just means we can enjoy movie night even more," Nea said, her tone shy and hopeful as her eyes appeared to shine at Steb.

In return, Steb gave her a chivalrous smile. "I'd like that."

As Nea closed and locked the door again behind them, the two shared a gentle look in silence. It let Nea observe what he chose to wear that night, dark trousers and a gray wool sweater with a white collared shirt underneath. She could feel the words glaring behind her lips, aching to come out, but it still felt too soon to utter how handsome he looked. For that night, she'd continue keeping that fact to herself.

"You look..." Steb began, contradicting Nea's inner decisions. "You look nice."

Nea's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she smiled at him in return. "You think so?"

"Yes," Steb smiled shyly, wondering how much further it would be appropriate to take the compliment. "Curls suit you."

"It's one of my favorite styles," Nea gave her head a wiggle, and the curls crowning her head followed. "You, um... you look nice too."

Steb opted to remain silent this time, but the gentle look in his eyes spoke of gratitude and undeniable affection. The tender nature of the moment made it feel like they had lingered on each other's gazes for an age, and Nea began to feel like perhaps it was time to move things to the apartment. She gestured to Steb to begin moving deeper into the Coffeewick, and she led the way past the darkened coffee shop to the staircase until they made it to the second floor and were just outside Nea's door.

"This is it," Nea said, reaching for the doorknob.

"It felt... strange, seeing the Coffeewick empty and from the inside," Steb observed.

"Oh, I know what you mean," Nea said. "I feel it too. But the Coffeewick deserves her rest too."

"Of course," Steb agreed as Nea opened the door, and when he was granted a clear sight of the place where she lived, he found himself unable to focus on anything other than the Yordle who stood on the coffee table with her back turned on them as she reached into the bowl of chips.

"Hands up, chip thief," Nea joked.

Blu turned around on the coffee table and shoved one last handful of chips into her mouth, after which she hopped from the table to the sofa and plopped down on it. "I picked the movie."

"Good," Nea stepped inside and let Steb in as well. "I told Blu she could join us, I hope that's okay."

"Of course," Steb smiled at her. "It's nice to see you again."

Blu seemed to hesitate for a moment, a sight so rare for someone as sharp-tongued as her, but she gave Steb a cheeky little smile.

"Of course it is," Blu said. "I'm a delight."

Nea playfully rolled her eyes and started making her way toward the kitchen, but first, she gave a quick glance at Steb. "Make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink?"

"Sure, I'll come with you," he said as he began to follow.

"'Kay," Nea smiled. "Blu, do you wanna put the movie in?"

"Yep," Blu hopped from the couch and went towards the television.

Meanwhile, Nea made her way swiftly towards her kitchen, knowing the steps all too well, but Steb inevitably lingered in his pace, observing as many details as he could. He found himself comforted by the earthy colors of the walls and the forest greens of the blankets and cushions on the living room. He found the warmth of the apartment enjoyable, and even with the snacks that had already been laid out, the place quite obviously smelled of coffee, though the scent was delicately mixed with the aroma of flowers, mainly lavender and rose. He stopped and looked, though not for too long, at the different potted plants around the apartment, each one well taken care of, and overall the cozy aura of the place was enticing, inviting him to spend his days and nights there.

Of course, the company he'd find in that apartment was very inviting as well, and when his thoughts circled back to Nea, Steb observed her as she took out a bottle of stout ale from the fridge.

"Blu, do you want a beer?" Nea called.

"You know which one I like!" Blu replied from the living room.

"What about you?" Nea asked Steb.

"I wouldn't mind one," he replied somewhat shyly, feeling out of place for a moment between these two lifelong friends.

"Light or dark?" Nea asked.

"Light, please," Steb said.

"Okay," Nea said as she took out one more bottle of dark beer and one of light.

"You and Blu drink stouts?" Steb's voice carried obvious surprise in it.

"We like our beer like we like our coffee," Nea said. "My liver's used to it by now, but don't be surprised if Blu begins asking some very forward questions halfway through the second bottle."

"Yes, fear me," Blu mumbled from the living room.

Nea giggled and acknowledged Steb again. "Would you like a glass?"

"Bottle's fine," Steb replied.

With little more, Steb and Nea made their way back to the living room, drinks in hand. As Blu finished setting up the film, Nea handed her the bottle of stout, which Blu took with a little grin.

"Why, thank you," Blu looked adoringly at the bottle. "Come to mama, my sweet, bitter little baby."

Nea chuckled when Blu began drinking from the bottle, and even Steb couldn't help but laugh softly at the sight of the little Yordle gulping down beer from the bottle angled nearly vertically as she held it in her little paws. Then, Nea and Steb sat side to side on the sofa, facing the television, and once more their gazes met, prompting a shy little smile from one another. On the screen, the film was just starting, followed by Blu pit-pattering her way around the coffee table with her beer in hand. She set it down on the coffee table and hopped on the couch, shamelessly sitting herself between Steb and Nea, and when she was fully seated, Blu made grabby hands at her beer on the table.

Steb and Nea shared another look, this one full of mischief and amusement at the Yordle's antics. Steb reached for the beer before Nea and handed it to Blu, who looked at him with a certain degree of approval.

"Hm," Blu said as she took the bottle. "Good move, officer. Pass the chips."

"Blu, say please," Nea reminded.

"I'll say thanks for the chips," Blu added.

"Here you go," Steb said as he gave her the big bowl of salty snacks.

"Thanks," Blu said and snuggled into Nea's frame.

"So, what movie did you pick?" Nea asked her.

"Only a timeless classic," Blu replied as a delicate piano melody began playing on the screen.

"Oh my," Nea giggled. "You actually picked Arrogance and Prejudgment?"

"Yes," Blu snickered. "You remember the tradition, right?"

"When it gets to the potato scene, we both quote the phrase in unison," Nea recited.

"And then we drink," Blu snuggled deeper into Nea. "I like movie night."

With a little giggle, Nea looked at Steb again. "Are you comfy?"

He nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

Nea blinked with a little grin. "Let me know if you need anything."

He gave her a quiet smile in return, and though they would have loved more conversation, both Steb and Nea felt that if they talked during the movie, Blu would have their heads. The movie played its course, and as it was with every rewatch, Nea enjoyed every bit of it the way she always did. The only difference was that Steb was present; knowing looks and lingering gazes were exchanged, and even with Blu sitting between them, Nea and Steb could feel how close they were to one another. It added a sweet variety of tension to the hours as they passed by, and even in the absence of words, it was what Nea had wanted—time spent near him, and the fortune of gazing upon him simply by looking at her side.

The movie eventually came to its end, and each one in that living room had roughly two drinks down. Even with the quantity being the same, the three were all at a different level of inspiration, with Steb being fully in his five senses, Nea with a faint sensation of lightheadedness she wasn't sure came from the ale or the extended proximity to Steb, and finally, being the worst of all, Blu quietly giggling to herself as multiple thoughts crossed her mind.

"We should watch that again," Blu slurred as she tumbled off the couch, falling with a light thud on the carpet. The sight prompted a laugh from Nea, one that brought to light just how tipsy she was.

"Oh my gosh, are you hurt?" Nea asked as Blu stood up and began a wobbly stride towards the kitchen.

"Yes," Blu mumbled. "On the inside. It needs alcohol."

Nea snickered.

"Are you sure you can handle another drink, Blu?" Steb asked when he noticed the Yordle reaching into the fridge for another three bottles.

"What, you wanna give me advice?" Blu challenged as she closed the fridge and made her way back to the sofa. She gave Nea one of the bottles and kept the other two for herself, giggling as she climbed on the coffee table and took a seat. "Fun game. Gimme advice, fishy boy, I dare you."

Steb turned towards Nea, his aquamarine eyes full of concern. In her lightheadedness, Nea suddenly wished he wasn't looking at her like that, but then again, any expression he could adopt would have the same effect on her. She wasn't fully sure she'd be able to resist him, and against her will, she grinned widely at Steb, and a dreamy sigh left her as she unconsciously stirred on the sofa and shifted her weight towards him.

"She's fine," Nea said. "She'll mumble nonsense and then pass out, but we're at home, so there's nothing to worry about."

"If you're certain," Steb told her, not at all oblivious to the change in Nea's aura.

Slowly, Nea nodded and smiled at him. "I am. But thanks for worrying. Now, please, humor her."

Steb chuckled, and he figured he'd enjoy himself as well. By logical deduction, he'd determined that the third bottle of ale was meant for him, and he reached across the coffee table in an attempt to take it only to earn himself a fluffy slap on his hand coming from Blu's hand. When he met eyes with the Yordle, she was frowning, looking about as ruthless and menacing as a marshmallow.

"Valuable piece of advice number one," Blu slurred, pausing to hiccup. "Never take a bottle from a Yordle."

"I thought—" Steb began.

"Never," Blu reiterated.

"Behave," Nea reminded her friend.

"Valuable piece of advice number two!" Blu enunciated as she attempted to stand up on the coffee table, only to quickly find out she was too woozy to properly keep balance and sat down again. "Never—hic!—ever eat a beet if it's furry."

Steb laughed softly and tilted his head. "Why?"

Blu directed an unamused look at him. "What do you mean, why? It's a beet! It's not supposed to have fur." Blu looked at Nea. "Can you believe this guy?"

Nea quietly chuckled and looked over at Steb with a little spark in her eyes. As Steb looked at her too, he felt a sensation in his chest, perhaps that of his heart swelling at the sight of her curled up on the couch hugging one of the cushions and looking up at him in adoration. He couldn't help but smile softly at her, and he found himself controlling the urge to reach out and take her in his arms—not only would it be wrong in her current state, but he didn't need Blu lunging toward him in an attempt to end him, funny as that would be.

"Valuable piece of advice number four!" Blu said as she tried to hop from the coffee table to the armchair.

"You skipped a number, genius," Nea said as she reached out and helped Blu get on the chair.

"Valuable piece of advice number five," Blu continued, unbothered, as she found a comfy seated position on the arm chair, holding her beer not unlike a child would hold their sippy cup. The Yordle looked over at Steb and, for a moment, an unavoidable seriousness peered through the tipsy cloudiness of her overall aura. "Don't you dare break this woman's heart."

In the few seconds it took for Blu's words to sink in, Nea felt herself sobering up as well. An alarming embarrassment threatened to creep up on her, and just before she could slip into overdrive and erupt in attempt after attempt to convince Steb that Blu didn't know what she was saying, the Vastaya let out a deep, soft laugh and he too straightened his posture, looking deep into Blu without a hint of hesitation.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Steb assured.

With his words, the plethora of worries that had invaded Nea vanished. Her features softened and her chest sank with the soft exhale that left her as she turned around to face him, and for a moment, she didn't know whether to thank him or to confess her feelings to him. But even in her lightheadedness, she knew that worrying or speculating, much less hiding from him, wasn't an option anymore, and with that realization, a smile curved her full lips. Steb's gaze then landed on her, smiling softly at her as well—if she had looked beautiful before, the current sight of her had Steb feeling as if he'd swallowed a box of fireworks, about to burst in the many things she made him feel.

"Then my work here—hic!—is done," Blu said and brought the beer bottle up to her snout, downing its entire content before setting it aside. With one more hiccup, she curled up on the armchair facing away from them and mumbled a few things no one else was able to make out, and in seconds, she fell asleep.

Giggling softly at the sight of her furry friend sleeping like a baby—as if she hadn't just chugged a whole beer—Nea turned around on the couch and faced Steb again. As she looked at him, she could feel her entire guard being let down, and she smiled dreamily at the man in front of her. Everything around her seemed blurry, but no less enchanting, and Nea felt her heart skip a beat when Steb shifted closer to her on the couch. His eyes held a blend of concern and affection in them, and the first thing he did was reach for the bottle in her hands when it tilted in a perilous angle that would let all the liquid drain from it, a fact that had been irrelevant to Nea before he reached to grab it. He took it from her and set it on the coffee table only to look at her again, managing a soft smile.

“Are you okay?” Steb asked.

Nea smiled and hummed in approval, feeling her body angling itself closer to Steb as his deep, rich voice allured her not unlike the song of a siren.

“Yeah,” Nea replied. She looked at him and her hopeful grin widened and a shimmer adorned her gaze. “Did you really mean that?”

Steb chuckled and found no harm in answering. “Every word.”

With another soft hum, Nea found herself ever closer to Steb. Her hand hovered over to his forearm and delicately brushed down toward her hand, lingering on the sensation of the wool beneath her fingers. The bottles of beer finally caught onto her, dimming her senses, and she was barely able to register the flash of recognition in Steb’s eyes when she leaned even closer to him and perked her lips up, intent on sealing the space between them and indulging in the perfect first kiss she’d been yearning for. But instead of feeling his lips on hers, Nea suddenly felt a force applied against her shoulders followed by the sound of Steb’s voice hazily filling her ears.

“No, darling,” Steb said as he gently kept her at bay.

“What?” Nea whimpered. “Steb…”

“You’ve had too much to drink,” he stated.

“No…” Nea’s whole face dropped into disappointment, well near breaking Steb’s heart, but a kiss in those conditions was out of the question for him. Delicately, Steb took Nea in his grip and helped her up to standing, and his own resistance built tension up in him as he looked at Nea, so beautiful yet so far off in a distant world.

“Oh, dear,” Steb said so quietly, just barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I’d rather you remember this when you’re sober or not.”

“You don’t want to kiss me,” Nea mumbled.

Steb felt the words she spoke burning through his skin. “I do. Believe me, I do…”

From the couch to her bedroom, the only thought Steb could register was how much he’d only wanted to kiss her since he met her, how it ached to long for her embrace, her dark brown eyes gazing into him, waking up beside her in gentle sunlight… It hurt to even think that any part of Nea might suspect he wanted anything other than that, but now wasn’t the time to prove her wrong. When they arrived at her room, Steb sat Nea down on the bed and he kneeled in front of her.

“Hey,” Steb said. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

Nea nodded softly, but she didn’t say anything else. Steb got up to head to the kitchen, but he stopped in his tracks when he felt Nea grabbing his hand.

“Wait,” she said, with a brief hint of desperation in her voice.

“Yes?” Steb’s whole frame softened when he looked at her again.

“Don’t go,” Nea pleaded.

“I’m just going to the kitchen,” Steb reassured her. “I’ll be right here with you until you can fall asleep, okay?”

Nea gave a soft nod and let her hand drop, letting go of Steb. Through the buzz, she could recognize the tenderness of Steb’s gaze as he looked upon her, and with a few quiet steps, he was out of her room. As he made his way through the cozy little apartment, he didn’t forget to check on Blu as she slept on the couch—she was still positioned on her side and her breathing was deep and steady, giving no reason for concern. Steb then finished his way into the kitchen and, though he didn’t love the idea of rummaging through Nea’s cupboards, he found a cup and filled it with water to take it back to her room.

When he arrived, Steb was greeted by the sight of Nea sleeping already, curled up on her side in a fetal position facing the bedside table. Of all the ways Steb had pondered on the slightest possibility of seeing her sleeping soundly near him, he didn’t think it would involve her being drunk. In fact, he would have hoped it wouldn’t be the case had he ever stopped to consider that course of events. But things were as they were, and all in all, Nea did look adorable. With a soft smile, Steb set the glass of water down on the bedside table and turned off the lamp, and he reached for the blankets on the opposite side of the bed, folding them over to cover Nea so she’d be warm. He then left the room and opted to leave the door open, making it easier for him to hear if she needed him throughout the night.

When Nea had fallen asleep, she had no recollection of what time it was, and no such conscience until the first moment she felt sunlight gleaming on her eyelids the following morning. She didn’t even remember at what point during the night she’d gotten up to drink the now empty glass of water that rested on her nightstand, but as soon as she’d remembered who’d left it there for her, all the embarrassment returned. With a grimace, Nea pulled her blanket over her face and pressed her palm to her forehead in an effort to soothe the cringe and the piercing headache, and the realization that she couldn’t do anything to undo the way she drunkenly came onto Steb plunged a void right in the middle of her chest. She hoped to avoid facing anything and anyone that day—thank goodness it was the Coffeewick’s day off—like a troll retreating to a cave for as long as the sun lit the sky.

Nea got up from her bed and decided not to open the curtains just yet. As she made her way to the door, she wondered a lot of things, mainly how she would ever make it up to Steb. Now in the living room of her apartment, Nea squinted and used one of her hands to shield her eyes from the natural light that peered in through the windows, and her feet carried her over to the armchair where Blu was still sleeping as soundly as ever. Nea remembered seeing Blu curled up on one side, but in that moment, she was splattered face down with a blanket covering only half of her body, and Nea couldn’t help but laugh quietly at the sight. Blu looked as if the three bottles of beer she’d had the night before were actually full of hard liqueur.

When Nea laughed, she quieted down instantly when she heard a deep, sleepy moan coming from the ground, and she quickly faced the direction of the sound to find Steb sleeping on the carpet, his head and lower back supported by the cushions from the couch. One of his forearms covered his eyes, shielding him from the light, and he was almost entirely scrunched—Nea feared he’d been cold all night. She then looked at the coffee table and realized it was spotless. The empty bottles had been rounded up and placed next to the trash chute, the bowls of chips had been emptied and cleaned, and whatever droplets of beer or crumbs had been lying around the furniture weren’t there.

Nea looked at Steb’s sleeping figure and it dawned on her. She realized the motivation behind all his actions, particularly—and perhaps, especially—his decision to not kiss her the night before when she wanted to. Though part of her would have wished he would have left to avoid further embarrassment, now she was happy he’d stuck around if only to thank him for tidying up when he didn’t have to. She smiled at the sight of him and controlled the urge to plant a gentle kiss of gratitude on his forehead, and instead, she turned towards Blu.

With the lightest touch, Nea lifted the blanket off of Blu and draped it over Steb, hoping to give him some sort of comfort in what clearly was not an ideal sleeping position, and then she picked Blu up from the couch and headed for the door. In little time, Nea was in Blu’s apartment setting the Yordle down on her bed for her to keep sleeping to her heart’s content, and Nea then returned to her own apartment, taking her time with each step she took. Perhaps she’d brew a pot of coffee—whether it was for the hangover or to cure a night of poor sleep, coffee was never an inadequate form of gratitude. She reached for the doorknob of her place and twisted it, pulling the door open with her gaze trailed on the living room where Steb was sleeping, and when the scene was revealed to her, she found he wasn’t there anymore.

“Good morning,” Steb’s deep, rich voice emerged from her bedroom.

She found him standing under her doorframe and smiled at him, closing the door behind her.

“I heard the door and thought Blu had gone on her own,” Steb said. “I thought I’d check in on you, but then saw you were gone.”

“Yeah, I took her,” Nea said, giggling at the memory of how she found Blu on the couch. “There’s no way Blu’s gonna move on her own.”

Steb laughed softly and walked over to Nea. “And… how are you?”

When she saw how tenderly he looked at her, Nea nearly broke into a flustered amalgamation of embarrassment and thanks. Judging by the way Steb’s eyes softened at her, she knew all the emotions must have manifested in her gaze, and Nea chose to lead with the one thing that was eating her inside, prompting her to cover her eyes with her hands.

“I am so sorry about last night,” Nea whimpered.

“Hey, come on,” Steb comforted. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I put you in a difficult position, and I shouldn’t have…” Nea uncovered her eyes and looked at him again. “It wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m sorry for letting myself go like that.”

“You had a couple beers in your own home,” Steb reassured. “Don’t apologize for that.”

“I tried to kiss you!” Nea blurted.

Steb chuckled softly, his ears giving a faint wiggle. “I’m… honestly flattered by that.”

“Don’t tease me,” Nea looked away from him.

“I’m not,” Steb reached, albeit without thinking, for her hand and squeezed it gently. The gesture instantly brought her eyes to look at him again, and though he considered for a moment swatting her hand away in regret, he kept it there and his ocean eyes softened as he continued to look deep into her.

“I mean…” Nea began. “It’s not like you don’t know how I feel…”

Her words abandoned her mid sentence, but she didn’t need them. Steb knew what she was trying to say, and the only thing that would pain him was for her confession to be clouded by remorse. He’d turn that around if he could, and in his eyes, he still had the chance. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and smiled at her, gesturing with his eyes toward the kitchen.

“You need to eat,” Steb said. “And hydrate.”

Still holding her hand, Steb led her toward the kitchen and stood in front of her fridge. “Mind if I make us some breakfast?”

Nea smiled at Steb with mild disbelief and she gave a soft nod. With her approval, Steb opened the fridge and looked around before taking out eggs, ham, and cheese.

“Here,” Nea went to the pantry and took out oil for the pan Steb was already putting on the stove, as well as a spatula and a whisk.

“Let me,” Steb smiled at her. “I wanna spoil you a bit.”

Nea felt herself blushing furiously. “Steb, you really don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he emphasized. “Scrambled?”

“What?” Nea asked.

“Are scrambled eggs okay?”

She chuckled and let him take the lead. “Yes, that sounds perfect.”

With that confirmation, Steb ignited the stove top and got to cooking, and in no time, the kitchen smelled amazing. Nea paused for a few moments to watch him move around the kitchen, until she moved on her own and prepped the coffee maker to brew a whole pot.

“So, you also brew coffee on your days off?” Steb asked her, still focusing on the eggs frying on the pan.

“Of course I do!” Nea beamed, walking up to him when she was able to leave the coffee maker to its own devices. “Coffee’s something I love.”

Steb could feel her proximity, and when he noticed the way she was looking at him, he turned off the stove so he could focus fully on her, his eyes beckoning her to speak up in the gentlest manner. Nea smiled softly at him, and her own gaze continued to hold an apologetic tone to it.

“Thank you,” she said, looking around the apartment for a couple seconds before looking at him again. “You didn’t have to clean up, by the way. But… thank you. For everything.”

Steb smiled at her and angled his body to face her. As he looked at Nea, he could see her anticipation growing when her eyes sparkled up at him again and her chest began to heave in soft pants.

“Steb?” She pronounced his name so endearingly, full of hope.

“Yes?”

“I…” Nea blushed. “I can think straight now.”

Steb gave a soft chuckle. “I’m sure you can.”

Nea’s smile widened. “So… Can I kiss you?”

The frills around Steb’s eyes flared in subtle waves as his own smile widened at her, and with a delicate grip, Steb rested his hands cupping Nea’s neck, his thumbs gently brushing the bases of her jaw. The adoration in his aquamarine gaze faded into something quieter, but no less adoring, slowly leaning down closer to her.

“Can I?” Steb asked her quietly.

Nea giggled. “Yes.”

No more barriers were placed, and beaming with joy, Steb leaned down to close the space between them. The initial contact of their lips was warm and unprecedentedly soft, both moving in tandem like waves dancing on a shore. Steb smiled into the kiss when he felt Nea’s chest rising with a deep inhale infused with soft surprise and a tender shyness that faded when she let her hands brush up his shoulders, resting on his broad frame. In turn, Steb took one of his hands to the back of Nea’s head, pressing her closer to him as he kissed with more strength, prompting her to wrap her arms around him. She also began to kiss with greater strength, letting everything—the yearning, the uncertainty, the many beats skipped by her heart whenever she thought of him—rest in that much anticipated kiss. Now that she was with him, she knew she wouldn’t want to let go; she was ready to give herself to him just as she could feel the same from him.

When the time was right, the kiss relented, but neither of them were quick to pull away. With little space between their lips, Nea looked up at Steb, who smiled lovingly at her blushing figure, a sight so endearing it prompted another flare of the frills on his eyes, tickling Nea’s cheekbones and drawing a soft giggle from her. She made no attempt to resist the desire to kiss him again and, wrapping her arms around his back, she kissed him with equal strength and he embraced her waist, gently spinning her away from the stove and swaying her gently to the sides until he pulled away with a final peck to her forehead.

“Sit down,” Steb whispered. “You need to eat.”

Nea felt her cheeks starting to ache from grinning so widely and, enamored by his selflessness, she resolved to let him finish what he started. But instead of sitting down, Nea wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back, hearing his soft laughter rumbling deep in his torso.

“I’m not letting you go now,” Nea whispered, not necessarily intending for him to hear her.

Still, Steb eventually turned around with two plates ready to be served, leaning down to gently kiss Nea’s lips again before leading her to the table.

“I should hope not,” he whispered and took the plates down to the table. “Should I pour the coffee?”

His words slid Nea out of her trance, suddenly rendering her able to stand in the real world where, next to Steb, everything looked far more beautiful.

“No, that’s my job,” Nea smiled.

Like he’d done many times already, Steb watched as Nea expertly poured the cups of coffee, finally for the two of them to sit down and enjoy together. As she made her way back to the table, he took the cups from her hands and set them down, pulling her close one more time to kiss her, and what he’d initially meant to be a quick kiss before breakfast evolved into Nea leading Steb to the couch where they continued, shy yet loving, without any need for fire or rush, merely adoring one another for as long as they’d wanted to since that first encounter, and long enough for the coffee to go cold and the sun to continue its way across the sky.

Thanks so much for reading! Please reblog to help me get out there!

Next chapter -> (coming soon!)

[middleearthpixie]

I'll See You in My Dreams ~ Chapter Seven

Summary: Noelle James knows soul mates exist, the trouble is, she just can’t seem to find hers. Especially since hers seemed to have existed only in the world of cinema and The Hobbit movies. No one believes she actually spent time in Tolkien’s Middle Earth and even fewer believe Thorin Oakenshield existed in her world, either. 

So when she finds herself unexpectedly alone on yet another Christmas, she has no way of knowing exactly what the universe has in store for her this time.The trouble is, this man claiming to be Thorin can’t possibly be him, for he died at the hands of Azog the Defiler at Ravenhill. She saw him die with her own eyes.

So, it can’t be him.

Or can it?

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Noelle James

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.8k

Richard Amhearst smiled from the opposite side of the door. “I take it you didn’t tell your doorman we’ve broken up.”

“It’s never come up, no. Especially since I was pretty sure you wouldn’t be knocking on my door any time soon after,” she managed, her heart resuming its pace once more. “But what are you doing here? I mean… it’s really not a good time.”

“I won’t stay long,” he flashed her the same charming smile that had thousands of women around the world fantasizing about him, “I promise.”

He stepped toward her as he spoke, only to have her block him from the doorway. “Seriously, Rich. Why are you here and don’t give me some bullshit answer, okay? Because I’m not in the mood for some bullshit answer.”

Rich stepped back, his sapphire blue eyes wide with surprise. “Are you seriously not allowing me in, Noe?”

“Not unless you tell me why you’re here. I have company, Rich,” she told him pointedly, “so now is really—”

“Noelle, who is at your door?”

She winced as Thorin came up behind her and Rich’s eyes widened further. She wondered what Thorin’s expression was as he asked, “Who is this?”

With a low sigh, she forced a smile and stepped back, opening the door wider as she replied, “Thorin, this is Rich Amhearst. Rich, this is Thorin Durin.”

Both men simply stared at one another for a long moment while Noelle held her breath. She couldn’t explain it but in Middle Earth, Thorin was only slightly taller than she was, however, here, in her world, he was very nearly the same height as Rich, who stood at nearly six foot three. She didn't want to think about what would happen if one should throw a punch at the other. 

To her relief, Rich held out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you… Thorin.”

Thorin stared down at that outstretched hand, then back up at Rich. Without glancing at her, he said, “This is the one who followed me?”

“Followed you?” Rich let out a snort of laughter. “Noe, where did you find this one?”

Noelle winced again as Thorin visibly stiffened. “I beg your pardon? No one found me. I knew exactly where I was going and I was not lost in the slightest.”

“Okay,” Noelle slid between both men, who now glowered at one another, “we’re not doing this now. Rich,” she looked over at him, “what do you want? For real.”

“I was in town for a few days, we’re shooting in Central Park, and I thought it might be nice to have a bit of a catch up. That’s it.”

“Shooting what in Central Park?” Thorin turned his steely gaze to her. “I thought you told me weapons were not allowed in public spaces? Isn’t that why you made me leave Orcrist behind?”

“No, he means something entirely different, Thorin.”

“The Orcrist?” Noelle bit back a groan at the disbelief in Rich’s voice, and she knew what was coming even before he said, “The sword from The Hobbit?”

“My sword,” Thorin growled, “yes.”

“Wait, are you trying to tell me you think you are the dwarf from the Tolkien story? That Thorin?”

“I think I am?” This time it was Thorin’s turn to snort. “I do not think it, I am he.”

“Of course you are. He’s a fictional character, but let’s pretend for a moment you are him. Noe,” Rich turned to her, “you don’t believe this, do you? You must know how mad this sounds.”

“You know what? Let’s not do this with my front door open, okay?” She grabbed Rich by the wrist and tugged him into her apartment, then closed the door. “Now, both of you, knock it off. I am not about to stand here and listen to you two argue over who’s got the bigger dick, got it?”

In unison, they replied, “Who’s arguing over that?”

“Holy fuck…” A dull headache took root behind her eyes. “Enough, both of you. Rich, just tell me what you want already? This is ridiculous.”

“And I told you, I thought it might be nice—”

“To have a bit of a catch up, yes, I got that. But, why?”

“I was here. It’s the holiday season, and I thought you might like some company instead of being alone.”

“As you can see, she is not alone, but has me for company. So you obviously have no reason to be concerned.” Thorin turned to her. “Is this the one who came after me? As you would say to me, are you for real?”

Any time Thorin tried to use modern expressions made her smile and this was no different, despite her irritation with Rich. “Yes. But remember, you were dead.”

“I was not dead.”

“Wait, what?” Rich looked from her to Thorin and back. “Have you both gone mad? I mean, you have to know just how insane you both sound.”

“No. No one is mad.” Noelle sank onto the arm of the sofa. “I know it sounds crazy, Rich. I thought the exact same thing when I first met him, but he is real. You’re looking at him.”

“Well, of course I am, but it simply isn’t possible.” At her long look, Rich quickly amended his words. “I mean, I suppose it must be possible, but how?”

“That’s the million dollar question.” She managed a smile at Thorin’s creased forehead. “The big question.”

He gave a subtle nod while Rich asked, “How long has he been here?”

“Since yesterday.”

“For the second time,” Thorin added. 

“Wait…” Rich just stared at him. “What?”

“He was here before you and I met.”

“You came after me.”

Rich shot him a look. “I believe you already mentioned that.”

“You can ask Science Man, if you chose not to believe her.”

“Science Man?” Rich looked over at her. “Does he mean Ian?”

She nodded. “That’s what he calls him. It’s a long story. And I can’t even tell you to ask Ian about the last time he and Thorin shared space. He doesn’t remember it. Or if he does, he refuses to admit it.”

“Wait,” Rich held up a hand, “let me see if I’ve this right. He was here years earlier and he met Ian, but Ian doesn’t remember it? You’ll forgive me if I find it difficult to believe anyone would forget meeting someone who claimed to be from one of the most famous works of literature in the English language.”

“I know. It’s crazy, right?” Noelle clasped her hands and let them settle between her knees. “But, it’s also true. And it was only three years ago. When I met you on that plane… it was only a short while after he’d died at Ravenhill.”

“I didn't die, mesmel,” Thorin corrected softly.

“I know, but for all intents and purposes, I didn't know, so you were dead.”

“Ravenhill…” Rich’s eyes went wide. “Noe, you understand how insane this sounds, don't you?”

“Oh, trust me, Rich, I am painfully aware of it.” Noelle couldn't hold back her rueful smile. 

“So, indulge me, won’t you?” Rich sank into the armchair on the far side of the sofa, where he must have seen Orcrist propped, for he did a double take before looking back at her. “Is that—never mind, forget it, I’m not even going to ask.”

He paused, drew in a slow breath, and then went on, “You and—and Thorin here knew each other three years ago. And you, Noe, were at Ravenhill when he was killed by that pale orc. Like in the movie?”

She nodded, the images slipping to the forefront of her mind as powerful as they had been when they actually happened. “Yes. He fell into this world, by Turtle Pond in Central Park and then when he went back to Middle Earth—stop looking at me like I’ve gone totally nuts, Rich—I ended up falling to Mirkwood and traveled with him and the Company all the way back to Erebor. I was there for all of it. The barrel river ride. The inferno at Laketown. I hit a guy in the face with a freaking frying pan, Rich.”

“Flattened his nose, if memory serves,” Thorin added. “It was impressive, really.”

“Thank you.” Noelle smiled briefly, then looked back at Rich, who just stared at Thorin in disbelief. “I was there for all of it. Every single scene from Mirkwood to Ravenhill.”

Her throat tightened then, her fingers curling into her palms as the memories grew more painful. Such as the one of her and Thorin on the golden floor in the Gallery of Kings, wrapped in his fur cloak, both trembling from the aftershocks brought about by incredible makeup sex.

Probably best to keep that to yourself.

She swallowed hard. “I ended up back by Turtle Pond when the battle was over.” 

Now Rich stared at her as if she’d completely lost her mind. “Noe… you… are you pulling my leg?”

“She isn’t touching you.”

Noelle bit back a laugh as without hesitation, Rich said, “I meant, joking.”

Both men looked over at her again and she shook her head. “I’m not joking, Rich.”

He just stared at her for a moment, then, his eyes went slightly wider. “Wait… when you say I came after him, does he mean…”

Thorin sank onto the sofa alongside her, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. “I do, indeed.”

Rich just stared at her for a long moment. “So, tell me, is that why you ended our engagement?”

“Engagement?” Thorin looked from her to Rich and back. 

“We were to be married.”

As his fingers tightened on her, she said, “No, Rich. He had nothing to do with it. We were already broken up for weeks before Thorin came back.”

“It would explain your change of heart.”

“He only showed up here yesterday. We broke up before Halloween.”

Rich said nothing for a long moment, just tapped his slender forefinger against his knee. “How long was he here before we met?”

“Does it matter?” she asked softly. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I don’t suppose it does.”

Thorin’s hand relaxed. “So, I suppose you will be taking your leave, then?”

Rich offered up a wan smile. “Noelle, might I have a word with you, before I go?”

Thorin’s fingers tightened once more, leaving her no choice but to pry them from her thigh before she could rise. “Yeah, sure.” 

She felt Thorin’s gaze almost burn into her back, somewhere between her shoulder blades, as she followed Rich back to the door. “So, how about now you tell me why you’re really here?” she asked, tugging open the door. “Because I don't believe for one moment you were worried I was feeling lonely.”

He waited until she’d stepped out into the hallway with him before saying, “In all honesty, I just wanted to… I miss you, Noe. This was the first Christmas we’ve been apart and I realized how much I’ve missed you. How much I’ve missed us. We were good together.”

As he spoke, he reached for her, curving his large hand against her cheek. Once upon a time, the gentle sweep of his thumb would have her eyes wanting to close and her lips lifting of their own to meet his kiss. 

Bot this time, she simply drew away from him. “Nothing has changed, Rich. We both want different things and I—”

“So you’re with him? The guy who thinks he’s Thorin Oakenshield?”

“He is Thorin and I know that sounds completely crazy, but I know for a fact that’s who he is.”

Rich stepped back, arms folded. “You didn't answer the first question. Why is that?”

“Because I don't really know, Rich, and don't ask me to explain because I can’t. It’s way too complicated.”

“Complicated? How so? Either you’re with him or you’re not. How is it complicated?”

“It just—” she drew in a deep breath, “it just is. That’s all I can say.”

“But you’d rather be with him than with me? With all I can give you, you’d still rather be with him.”

“I don't expect you to understand,” she told him softly, shaking her head, “and like I said, it’s way too complicated to explain. But, yeah…”

He said nothing for a long moment, his eyes growing colder as he just stared at her. “I see. Well, I guess that’s that. He can have you and I am a fool for thinking you might wish to work this out.”

“There isn’t anything to work out.”

“No, I daresay there isn’t. And that’s too damn bad, because you knew you meant everything to me. With him, you don't even know if you’re together.”

“Rich—”

He spun and started toward the elevators. “I wish you both a happy life. If you can actually figure out what sort of life you have with him, that is.”

A sharp retort rose to her lips, but she swallowed it as he reached the elevator bank and jabbed a button. The down arrow glowed green, the doors slid open and he stepped into the car. He faced her then, and didn't break his stare as the doors slid shut. 

The retort became yet another sigh as she sank against the wall. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Rich, as their breakup had been mostly amicable, but since she didn't think she’d be seeing him again, she tried not to dwell on it. He was a good man, after all, and would make someone a great husband. It was just that she was not that someone. 

The door opened. “Has your friend gone?”

She winced at the low growl of Thorin’s voice. “He’s gone.”

“So, that was the one who came after me.”

“Yes, Thorin.” She turned and met his gaze. “He’s the one who came after you. I’m pretty sure we’ve already established that. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back inside and just pretend this didn't happen.”

He pushed open the door and as she passed by him, asked, “Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you wish to pretend this never happened?”

“Are you serious?”

“Have you known me to be anything but serious?”

“There’s a first time for everything, you know.” 

She stepped back into her apartment, which was warmer than the hallway had been, moved to sink onto the sofa, and reached for the remote to turn on the fireplace. As it glowed to life, she set the remote back on the coffee table and let her head fall into her hands. Rich had been there less than an hour, but she was as drained as she’d been the night they broke up for good. 

The floor creaked softly behind her and Thorin said, “Would you rather be with him?”

He spoke softly, but there was no mistaking the emotion in his words, as if he feared her answer would be yes. She gazed up at him over her shoulder, shaking her head. “No. No, I wouldn’t, Thorin.”

“Are you certain?”

“I don't even have to think about it. I just—”

“You just what?”

She sank against the sofa cushions. “I wish I knew what the rules were for us, because I really don't think I can ignore just how much I want… you…”

To her surprise, he smiled. “I don't think I can ignore it, either.” 

“But we have to ignore because if we sleep together, you’ll be zapped back to Middle Earth and I’ll be here and I cannot do that again. I just can’t.”

“What if that doesn’t happen, though?”

“But what if it does?”

“Noelle,” he leaned forward, looming over her, his dark hair spilling over his shoulders, “what if—”

“I’m not taking the chance, Thorin.”

She pushed up from the sofa, shaking her head. “I don’t know how else to convince you that I just won’t.”

He skirted the sofa, stepping in front of her. “But we don't know what will happen.”

“Thorin—”

“We don’t.” He caught her face in his hands, and her heart skipped a beat as his eyes met hers, softening as he held her gaze. “We don’t.”

“We do.”

“You are just as stubborn now as you were when we first met, do you know that?” he murmured, then bent to her before she could reply, his lips finding hers to silence her with a soft kiss.

It would be so easy to fall against him, to wrap her arms about his waist and just surrender to his kiss. 

And that was exactly what she did.

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[unholywriters]

Chapter Five - New Teachings, new Friend

╰┈➤ Paring: Demon!changbin x male!demon reader

╰┈➤ Tags: poly!stray kids, poly!chan, poly!felix, poly!changbin, poly!hyunjin, poly!seungmin, poly!lee know, poly!jeongin, poly!han, possessive stray kids, demon AU, Sin AU, royalty AU, talks of hell, demon mentions

╰┈➤ Word Count: 7k

╰┈➤ Parts: teaser, 01, 02, 03, 04

╰┈➤ Taglist: @a-short-ass-disappointment @gnusihcom @felixneverbadd @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn @midlike

╰┈➤Summary: After waking up to see changbin and Chan standing above the coffin. The house now being filled with celebration before having to leave. That's when chan had to explain what was to happen next and refusal wasn't an answer so he made sure Changbin stayed near despite felix being near. So y/n was now stuck with changbin, but not everything is horrible now is it?

Sitting in the now dark room was confusing to me. One moment I was slowly getting pulled out the coffin by Changbin, he was alone and told me not to think too much about everything. But my mind was racing, I had just killed my family, but it felt short lived, like I should have done more to make them feel pain but I can't do too much. But I still felt dizzy while trying to get used to everything once again, like trying to take my first steps but the last look I saw on Changbin's face was like he knew I wouldn't have made it. Making me think of what Chan had said when I woke up in that pile. But when I woke back up, the room was dark. And everything felt stiff. But I kept my head up high and moved out of the bed. I rocked just to make sure I was awake before sitting up. Holding the edges of the bed felt like something was burning, looking down I see I was burning the bed when trying to keep myself steady. I didn't want to fall, but I needed to keep myself steady before standing up. I wonder if this is how new demons felt when they woke up for the first time. Trying to get a grasp on things once again only to feel like they had to start all over again.

The fire was spreading, but I felt at home in it. Like it was giving me energy, like I could do anything if I put my mind to it long enough. With one forceful push I stood up, but I could feel the surrounding fire bursting higher, making a loud whoosh sound behind me while I kept myself steady on the ground. Focusing on my breathing I looked at the door, my eyes now adjusting to the darkness, like I could see everything despite no lights being on. But then my ears got filled with sounds, I could hear people still chatting as if they were questioning things. Maybe questioning if I was going to wake up still or if this entire thing was a waste of time. Trying to focus on one thing, I heard footsteps coming closer while I tried to walk to the door. Trying so hard to get the ringing over with because it was messing with my head by the time I heard the door open. Looking over with a quick head turn, I saw someone’s outline. But after blinking a couple times, I could see it was changbin who seemed to be confused even. “Y/n? You.. woke up?” He sounded confused but also a bit…happy I think?

“Was I supposed to actually die or something?” I asked, I think sounding more annoyed than I already was. The ringing was getting to me but it died down slowly, fading into the background like everything else now that I could stand up more easily and just walk, nothing seemed to hurt anymore but I was used to the dark room, I can imagine the light's are still on downstairs and everything is loud as ever, but for now everything felt quiet. Like they were trying to listen in to the conversation just to see where it would go. “No, it usually takes longer than 30 minutes for a new demon to wake up but you woke up in just 10. The fastest one to wake up was I- the youngest who woke up in 15.” I could hear him getting closer, squinting my eyes to see him reaching his hands out to me, maybe to help me walk so I can understand things but I wasn't entirety too sure. “Is that why everything went quiet? Are they listening like I can hear them?”

He froze for a minute, almost like he wasn't thinking I wouldn't be able to hear things for now, maybe I wasn't supposed to but it just happened like nothing else was wrong. “You have a lot of things figured out given that you have had nothing demon related prior. can you see me in the dark?” “As if the lights were one but they aren't.” I could feel his touch while he lead me out of the room, walking to the door into the hallway. It felt like walking on a tip rope but it was still manageable. “Then the lights downstair might blind you for a while. I'll have to show you when the party is actually over.” “There's still more with this?” I thought that by now almost everyone would have left since I done the main show, maybe not to everyone's liking but just enough to keep them satisfied while they return to what they were doing any other day or even before this was all planned. What else was there for me to do? Show them I can barely walk and stand anything too bright as if I just woke up from a long sleep and the sun was now flashing in my eyes?

“Not a lot, it will show itself when we get downstairs.” Walking down the stairs seemed to somehow help with balance, but the room was still bright. But I could handle it even with the sounds piling back up like when you have headphones back on and everything is trying to play out at once. With there being very little what I can do but I handled it. Looking around everyone seemed to look at me with a curious look, like some were surprised to see that it was actually me, some wanted to see what else I could bring to the table, like watching a pawn slowly become more than a knight, but a queen. Though I do like the sound of that, I wasn't sure if it would be everything I'm thinking it would be from the start and I'm not sure if I want to push that, or rather if I have a choice if I don't want to push anything anymore. “Chan and Hongjoong are outside talking with hyunjin, I'll guide you there to make sure you don't fall.” I wanted to tell him no, that I could handle it since it felt like getting drunk when I was home alone. But this was more intense the way I get at home, but he stayed close while I walked.

Slowly getting the pop in my steps back felt like owning the stage again in its own way and that's what I liked to do when I would walk. Outside seemed to feel different somehow, like there was a pressing weight of tension waiting to see if anything would be different, but they weren't at the window spot I saw hongjoong at before getting here. Changbin took me to the garden that seemed to be private since no one else seemed to go back there without reason. It felt weird walking back there, but when we got further down, I saw hyunjin looking down while being tied up. His wings were being forced opened with chan having to stand to the side, his stance looked angry while someone else seemed to hold a sword that hongjoong was holding out to them. “Now what in the fuck is happening here?” I opened my mouth before changbin could, seeing hyunjin whip his head up to look at me, chan slowly looking over and relaxing. Hongjoong looked curious while the man with him, he seemed to look a little angry, but curious as well. “Oh thank you fucking flames you woke up.” Hyunjin looked more relived as his wings were able to now finally be lowered.

The robe vanishing from his hands while Chan moved closer to him. Helping him stand up while having a look that screamed worry, but I could see, no I could smell fear, something I don't think anyone else could smell. “Oh well, seonghwa you have an entire place to do cutting. Send the sword back home.” Hongjoong let out a small sigh, almost sounding disappointing while the taller man next to him let the sword vanish into flames before keeping his arms behind his back. Chan taking hyunjin away from the two, Hyunjin hissing while trying to move his wings since it seemed to have been painful being there in waiting for so long just to see if I was going to wake up or not. Hongjoong begun slowly walking over to me, that man staying behind him like he was waiting for another order, Changbin kept his arm over me, trying to keep me closer behind him while also making sure he looked as big as possible to keep the two of them far back as he could in this instance. “Alright alright, we won’t scare them too much come seonghwa, wooyoung still wants to make sure his best friend is still alive, then after that we can head home. I know you're itching to tear someone in half, aren't you?”

I watched them walk to the gates that came to the garden, hongjoong having a skip in each step while that taller man just kept walking. Looking back at the other two, Hyunjin stood up, his clothes still looked just fine, his hair being a mess, his eyes being wide while he was slowly calming down. Chan seemed to whisper things in his ear, making sure he was helping hyunjin calm down more before letting him go while me and changbin slowly got closer. I had questions; I wanted to ask so much but I knew the only person who had those answers would most likely be Chan, and he had his hands full and I knew better than to mess with someone trying to keep someone they see as family. Slowly looking over, even changbin looked worried as he got closer, trying to make sure he really was fine before we would've had to returned. But Hyunjin slowly stood up, shaking the hair out of his face before rolling his shoulders. Like this was just another day, and he was getting through it. Cracking his neck some while letting out a relaxed sigh before looking at all three of us, but focusing back to me. “All of this will be explained after we make a talk for the others alright? Don't worry about me till afterwards if I don't start jumping around.”

The moment he started walking, Changbin went after him. Watching him he wrapped his hands around Hyunjin while the two were walking to the gates to join the others while I turned to Chan. He slipped on his mask to cover his mouth, but I could still se his eyes despite how hard his expression looked. “So, I take it he's not really the best friend or brother?” I wanted to break the silence, he didn't seem like he wanted to move, that making himself move would take more energy than not. So I slowly got closer, remembering that this is someone who the others respect and that I'm now tied to. He looked at me, almost like he didn't want to answer but I didn't stop staring at him. Wanting to see if there was anything I could do despite how late I felt like I was. What would’ve happened if I too late, would I have been killed out of anger, anyway? I mean I would've done that in his shoes, probably make it show just because one of my closest friends got hurt. Watching him, he slowly let out a breath before getting tensed back up again. “He’s technically my brother, since our sections are close. But he likes to make bets, not just deals. And if he gets his way, he makes it brutal. The last thing he cut from my crew, it was the youngest tongue and I was too late to get to him because of a trap. It took him years to grow it back and feel comfortable talking to him, or even anyone again. If you didn't wake up, he would've lost his wings in a slow way that takes years to grow back. And hyunjin adores his wings, it would've taken him decades before he grew them back, maybe longer or shorter to forgive you.”

He didn’t look at me, but I have to remember something, these guys aren't just demon’s but Sin's, by the looks of it. “I would've let him torture me till he thought it was enough. Might not replace the pain, but I didn't think I fell back asleep after everything. What happened?”

“You climbed out of the coffin but everything was awakening at once. You were practically trembling while trying to get yourself together but it was taking such a toll that before anyone else reacted. You just screamed, if anything you shook the ground and broke the windows, making the guards even fall to their knees along with some demons. You almost made Hongjoong kneel, he was pissed so many people saw that but when you stopped, you just fell. You didn't move, didn't tremble and didn't even shake like most. But you just laid there till we got you inside.”

He sounded more impressed while staring at me while I was confused; I caused that much damage? I had a feeling that everyone here could handle things, but was my scream that bad? Did anyone else from the outside even hear that? “Changbin told me that for me to stand up and already see in the dark and hear everyone was advanced for me is it, really?” “Yes. Most panic because everything is dark, they can't see or hear anything and assume they're dead and panic till they slowly hear someone.” it made me curious, what else was I able to do if someone was there to help? Would I have to figure things out for myself? Well I doubt that, with how many boys in this group someone would end up teaching me about something's before letting me figure things that fit myself. But the question is who would bother with that? Since I haven't met, everyone yet still but clearly things happened and it was slightly rushed since some of them haven't really met me yet and tonight was more of a first- or well second impression of me.

“What happens when we get back?” Without saying a word, we walked back to the main place, he was silent still but as we got closer, I saw the others standing in the middle of the large living room, hyunjin showing off his wings as happy as he could while looking at us. I felt weird now, the eyes were on me and I could hear the whispers more, looking around at people and seeing how they stopped talking. Changbin was right, I must really be surprising her people here after my last performance. One of them got closer, his face seemed more serious, his hair slightly covering his face while rolling his shoulders, slowly taking my hands into his while we stood closer. “Sorry we didn't get to meet before this, my name is Minho, but everyone else calls me Lee know. It’s a pleasure to actually talk to you.”

I wanted to say something, despite the smile he was giving me, one hand felt warm and the other one felt cold, it felt weird but I don't think I had time to ask a question, our attention was moved to the top of the staircase, Chan standing there like he was used to having to give speeches even after something happened, makes me wonder how many times he's had to do this, only at the end of it all just to go back home and let it out in his own way.

“Thank all of you for coming and helping all of us welcome a new demon into the world of hell. One that seems to hold more promise than some expected, I hope the next time any of us ever meet, you can see just how much things have changed in the years to come.” The cheers were loud, like they those loud random rings you'd sometimes get in your ears even when your note doing anything to get be getting them in the first place but I stayed put. Lee Know was keeping me closer while we all were looking at Chan, who was slowly looking around the room but not so much at us. He was keeping his head up high despite everything that could happen at this moment. I was still nervous, what if someone wanted to ruin this? Or was this just because I was so used to my family doing the same thing that now I’ve just accepted that it could happen anywhere else if I was present and someone wanted to embarrass me just for the fun of it?

But despite all of that it was like people were slowly glowing, like as if they were walking into a fire and this was now their time to say goodbye and plan more things. It made me curious as I watched some of them before looking down; it wasn't them that was being surrounded by fire; it was us. I wanted to scream, thinking I was going to burn but before I could even do that. I was Now standing in a garden; it was larger than the one hyunjin was in; the flowers were more different, but so was the air. It was hot, but I wasn't sweating it just had that feeling of it. But I also felt lighter, but that didn't erase the confusion I still had. The sky wasn't blue anymore; it was a bright red yet it looked like there would be stares in the sky, bringing a sense of white to the sky that was filled with the sounds of faint screaming and flames burning in the distance. I was in hell, the place they say where screams are never ending and no matter where you look there is nothing but torture, fire and screams.

I wanted to let out another scream, like something was wrong but then I felt a squeeze. Whipping my head around faster than I thought, I looked over to Lee know, his eyes now a dark red but he also just seemed more relaxed than he was a few moments ago. “Me and Changbin will explain everything, you burned my hand without thinking, probably assuming I was trying to keep you warm but then you burned the floor. Your abilities are free flowing and we needed to get you somewhere that wouldn't burn. But this helps, since you would've had to come here by the end of the night.” He explained, letting go of my hands to shake off some embers that fell to the ground and fix his tie. I felt embarrassed somehow, like how do I end up nearly burning someone and not realize I'm doing it? Wouldn't I just get hotter? “And don't worry about the screams, we figured it would be better to walk you to the main house instead of just appearing inside, this is just the front walkway. It also gives us time to explain things without overwhelming you. Since your abilities are going to be tied to your emotions, it's best not to get you overwhelmed for the time being.”

I looked around the place, more so taking in the flowers and the path. The flowers looked like they would never die, blowing in the wind despite their bright colors, they were letting off embers that flew away. It was like those large field scenes you see in movies where you just have to look around and slowly take it all in before you move. This is going to be part of me now, makes me wonder if the church people my mother wanted to impress ever thought I would be the one on the other side of the spear they claimed would endlessly kill me for my ways of living. I walked with the two; they stayed in front of me and let me walk on my own; I was happy since this meant I could mess with the flowers more on the walk there. But I was also making sure I was paying attention and wasn't getting too side tracked not to listen or anything in that nature.

“This is our section of hell, Chan calls this side Maniac since we have a larger number of those who aren't…truly there but always thought nothing would hurt them and they could get away with their actions. But since we all have our own smaller sections to run trough, you'll have lessons from each. Which was how it was supposed to go but Hyunjin and I brought up how confusing that would be. Sure you’d only see us in your dreams but that would've made things more confusing from the start, and we don't have time for that.” Lee know seemed like he had his speech planned out, knowing what to say and when so I didn't have as many questions as I would before we would return. “I have a question though.” “Ask it. We have time.” “It's about hongjoong and the ones with him, what about them?” I looked at the two of them, Changbin turning to Lee know as if he didn't know if my question needed to be answered. Maybe I should've waited, but him and the ones he's close with are going to be a problem, maybe even more so than I was thinking.

Lee Know gave a nod, like the two of them were going to o back and forth talking about everything and now it was changbin's turn to talk. “Hongjoong is more ruthless, our sections are close, but different. He's friendly which helps in his favor when he’s talking to people, some spill things to him he doesn’t need to know but nearly all demons know better than to give in with some words he says.” “The what about the one with pink hair? He seemed more deadly/” “you will hear this name a lot, but that one is Seonghwa, also known as his right-hand man and isn't scared to get dirty, and I mean covered in blood and guts, and would still walk like nothing were to happen. He's dangerous because Hongjoong got cocky for picking someone he wanted. Someone who wouldn't fear those in power, but even he struggles to keep Seonghwa in check because he fears no one. Despite most of us being considered being stronger, he would still fight and nearly kill any of us for fun. Which is why when you and me got to hyunjin I moved you behind me, knowing if Hongjoong leaned closer to you, Seonghwa would've launched thinking it was a sign to scare or attack you just to show you a glimpse of what you would do. But not even we know what you c5na do or how to stop it if you were wanted to protect yourself, which I imagine you would, and that would've made things a mess from the start.”

We stopped and the two of them turned to me, changbin looking worried while Lee know was trying to conceal something, maybe the same worried look but was waiting on me to process everything just so I can make sure I'm not going crazy or freaking about that but I was just trying to put pieces together. “So he took seonghwa when they were human and basically molded him-they- into what he wanted but he basically made a weapon that doesn't even listen to him?” “He wanted to show Chan that he could make even the most kindhearted of people into people who would toy with your emotions while torturing you, but he went so far with Seonghwa that them feeling pain is something even he can barely do, but over the eons seonghwa has toned down. But no one really wants to challenge him still since his moves and fighting are unpredictable despite him only being second in command to a demon lord.”

I could only listen at that, someone who could fight the others despite his own strength I could only look before taking the sight of the house now in front of me. It was like those large one story mansions that were more spread out inside of stacked into a well-thought out plan. At least no one ever misses out on their steps even for one day. Despite the surroundings, the place was a bright and pure white, like it was reflecting what people have lost when they have arrived, their innocence. Even stepping on a step, it was marble. I never seen something like this, it was polished, like someone had just gotten this done and had to make a run for it before they were to be caught by the rest of us. It was something interesting, but I still wanted to know what exactly was I supposed to do here. Besides learn other things, couldn't I do that at home? Without losing a job I worked so hard to enjoy?

“You will come here every day, since you need to get used to this and other things. Before your shows and days off, yes we are using those. Demon's don get days off to sit around there is always something to do. And since you need teachings Changbin is one of the best teachers we have for combat and such, fighting chan wouldn't go easy on you and it would piss you off, it does for everyone. Think of it like classes, expect some of them might not be fun at all and you will be very annoyed that it feels like you have no free time. But you need to understand, these are important so you aren't left with a million questions but hold them in so you can't express things and don't get hurt trying to figure it out. That is the main goal here, and it's going to sound like we're talking a lot with very little actions. But they are important.”

Lee know seemed to have this more practiced out than changbin was prepared for, I think his mind was still racing and he was now having to deal with me on top of things he was already doing and or worrying about before I got here and now things were about to get more chaotic. But I gave him a nod before trying to look inside the house like a curious cat, I wanted to see what was in there. What all would be in there before anything else and where would I go if I tried to stay here. How would that even work if I had tried to stay there? Would it be like entering a castle? Maybe one of those that are left crumbling and your just left to wonder what all happened here and how? The doors seemed locked shut and I don’t think either of them are going to be opening it just yet. But something still didn't feel right about anything. Like something was wrong, and no one was telling me and I needed to figure it out without saying so.

I took one step back from the large windows and tried to focus on my surroundings. What was I missing that felt like it was right in front of me? I moved my hand around and it felt like ripping through paper. It made my eyes widen, quickly turning around with my hand still out and seeing how fast everything was changing. I looked to see that Lee know was vanishing as if he were never here, his face never changing despite his body doing so. The surrounding field became nothing but burned grounds with fire crackling under. The house had disappeared from view and I was at the edge, like if I tried to open the door, I would've fallen into the flames just under me and that would’ve been it most likely. Moving back as fast as I could, I moved my hand down and looked around to see changbin. He had a more stern look while he watched me, like that one teacher that gave you a test and wanted to see if you would fail it or surpass his expectations. His face stayed cold as he raised his head up, arms stayed behind his back before slowly walking over.

The embers flying around from under his shoes as if they were bringing more light just so I could see his face more. His dark brown eyes changing from dark brown to red with each step till he got close enough but still leaving some room between us. “I was wondering if you would notice something before falling and actually dying this time.” How was I supposed to react to this exactly? I can't swing at him even if I wanted to, he looked more focus so any attack would've been pointless if I tried to. So I stood up straight, attempting to make myself look taller than I actually am despite him leaning down closer to me just to make sure our eyes stayed locked together. “What was all of that?” I tried to make my voice sound steady, watching a grin form on his face despite how innocent his face looked, head titled to the side like a cat just watching you do something in the corner knowing they can't talk to you.

“An Illusion. Well, minus the questions you asked about Seonghwa, those are real. But the house? You may be close but that is something you have to earn to see, it doesn't exactly look like that. It is true, you will be there, but you will be limited to the rooms needed for the day ahead before getting to see anything or anyone outside. Since we don't need you to be distracted for your studies and teachings.” His voice, it reminded me of honey, on the surface it was smooth and easily spread out, having a glow to it that made you want to focus on it but honey is sticky, if dried up it can even become to get out of no matter how much you try ti get out of it.

“So where are we exactly now?” “We're at the demon house, don't get me wrong. Just in one basement. This is where we fight and make sure you can tell when things feel wrong. Seonghwa is tricky and enjoys pushing new demons like you to the limit so he can kill you. Knowing hongjoong can barely keep up and would one day get surpassed if he isn't keeping up, but you need to stay strong and be able to tell when something is wrong.” Rolling his shoulders in his coat along with his neck, I watched it vanished even before he turned to look at me. His eyes having a dead look despite the redness in them, fire reflecting off of him like it was kissing him, but his arms showed a different story. Like they were ready to protect him or show off if they needed to and I needed to find a way to be prepared for what was about to come my way whether I wanted to.

The hard part of this is going to be fighting in heels, trying to stand my ground and making sure I don't get knocked off if he plans to throw attacks to me. But damn can I at least change first? I'm still in the outfit they gave me earlier at the party. I wonder if people are watching just to make sure I'm not just a pretty demon and that I'm actually having to do things. It makes me wonder about Seonghwa, the look in their eyes while they looked at hyunjin. like they were enjoying watching him slowly shake waiting for me. The way he didn't need to smirk or grin because his eyes showed it all. I don't know what it was, maybe me thinking about it and seeing how he looked up at me and Changbin when I finally said something. But when I finally blinked I was holding Changbin's hand, not in a loving way but as in me holding his fist, my eyes wide as I looked up at him but tried to keep the shock to myself.

His face stayed the same, but he raised a brow along with hearing a sizzle, it was his hand burning and mine getting hotter. But the color wasn't red like fire, it was black. With nothing there to bring any form of light into the flames, just a void that would move around flames would do. It made him pull away and look at his hand, there was a quick moment where he looked more surprised than me before keeping his face neutral once again, it made me wonder was that hurting him? I wanted to ask him a question, but something told me to duck, to get out of the way before he gets closer and I did. In doing so, I saw him appear with his hand like he was ready to grab me but I ducked down before he could, rolling over my outstretched leg and away from the edge. I turned to look at him; he looked more surprised, his head turns being slow. Like he was waiting to see if I would do anything else but I didn't know what I was doing or how even. I just had that feeling like if I didn't move, something would happen.

He said nothing for what felt like an hour, staring at me as if he were collecting his thoughts before he even thought about trying to say anything. But what could I do? “You're not doubting your instincts. But you move faster than you think you do. You're learning fast, but you also don't have a clue of how you're doing it.” I slowly stood up, looking at him while he slowly but fully turn to meet me. He sounded curious, maybe trying to see if anyone was trying to give warnings to his moves but how would they know what he was going to do? I highly doubt he does the same things repeatedly before trying to attack someone. It wouldn’t make any sense of him to do so. “Then again, given the things you’ve went though it makes sense you've learned to actually trust yourself quicker than others and then ask questions later just to be sure to see if it's even safe to do so. That's not a bad thing to do, in fact it even benefits you.” Holding his hand out, swirling flames around it like water, he created a spear, nothing too sharp but I can imagine nothing too dull either just to make sure I put effort into it.

Tossing it over to me, he did the same thing again and held one himself, dragging the sharp end across the ground while pacing slightly but his eyes never once leaving me. “What do you mean?” “Your used to being on your toes when you know the situation is tense, so if you need to pounce you can, if you need to run you run. But if you need to bite, you bite.” I wanted to relax, to put this weapon down and just ask how does he know these things about me when this is my first time talking to him, but he moved fast and attacked again, but this time spear in one hand with the other behind his back. Yet somehow the spear, no. Somehow I was stopping each movement, each time a hit was made, even if it was close and I didn't attack, it was still close and I was mainly trying to push him back, which was hard to do given his size and everything. I wasn't making progress, but one thing was clear to me, he was struggling to keep me in one spot since he was having to keep his eyes more focused on me and barely anything else.

I don't know how, but before he could strike once again, and he was moving quickly, but I kicked him back, causing him to stumble a bit before looking at me again. His shock showing more while I just stood there, spear in both my hands while I was trying to keep myself steady on the heels I was wearing because holy shit was that sharp. Maybe that was why he was surprised, because the heel was sharp and I used it to my advantage and kick him back so I can get some space between us and just overall keep him on his toes. This went on for what felt like hours, the weapons never changed the entire time but it was clear we were going until one of us felt tired or feel to our knees and couldn't get up. But it wasn't me, who was backing down, well no that's really a Lie. I was close to it despite changbin not using anything other than a spear and determination in his eyes.

I think I broke a heel at some point and kicked my shoes off but that was a dumb move, once I could actually feel the ground is when I wanted to give up, my feet were burning, the pain wasn't something I'd think would bother me but I haven't been near fire this close. But changbin being the man he is, he kept me distracted to the point I almost forgot about it till he made our spears vanish and picked me up off the ground. My feet now cooling off but the cool air was both relaxing and painful to feel but I didn't mind it. I could rest now and I was happy with it. I got to live out a dream of mine, being carried by a man with buff arms like a princess. “We went longer then I thought we would, you make this way more exciting than I thought would happen.” I wanted to tease him about it, but when I blinked we were back in my room after what felt like so long without being in here. I wanted to jump in joy because I missed my bed so much.

He slowly set me down, I turned to him with a smile and an offer. “Wanna stay for some food?” Within minutes, his serious Demeter had changed, and he was excited, his clothes changed from their serious all black to some fuzzy pj's while he ran me some shower water since I had a feeling I would fall asleep if I took a bath right now, but he was more than happy to help with cooking something to eat. I don't remember what we made, not because I was tired and felt like the day was driving me crazy, but because he was being silly and it was hard not to laugh and I didn't know if he was always like this or if was because I offered food and us to relax on my bed since that was the only place I wanted to be. I was just more than happy to be home after everything.

??? POV

200 years. It has been 200 years before another demon had come into the picture of everything here, the last demon that was here I ate slowly. Watching them lose their mind and didn't know who to trust despite being warned so many times. Falling for my lies and charm like it was a spider web they just couldn't see it, despite the screams of other bugs warning them. But they were always sweet to eat, finally so broken they had no fight left in them despite having no soul, but still. Eating them was amazing, but this one…y/n… the first one in such long showing up. I almost wanted to laugh when I heard about that stupid party. I didn't want to go, but I had to out of respect and so I went, I smelled him the moment he walked out of the car and got close enough to us. Sure they were handsome, but I was used to seeing handsome men around and most I couldn't touch so what was the use? Them killing their family was boring, there wasn't any flare to it, just stabbing and them passing out. But when they tried to get closer, I wanted to be a tease and act like I was going to kill him, but that scream…

That power, that feeling was something that shocked me, they fell back asleep and I wanted to eat hyunjin's wings just to watch him try so hard to stay confident with no wings to show off. It was something I always thought of doing, but he came back, he looked pissed and I wanted to laugh at it, but I didn’t And then watching him fight, it almost was cut too short before they were fighting changbin like he wasn't so much stronger and taller than him. But he made it worth the watch, the way they moved, jumped around and simply just pushed him back was enough to keep me interested. Mostly those who touch the grounds give up because the pain is too much but y/n had a point to prove clearly. I like you y/n. I want to eat you after you've been broken beyond saving.

[fiddleabout]

on the run from a losing game, 8/10

warrior nun, ava silva/sister beatrice, M, chapter 8/10

Beatrice wakes up to the sliver of light from the cracked door faded and cool, a telltale promise of the impending sunset.  Her mouth is dry, her eyes gummy, but there’s a warmth in her stomach she can’t place immediately as she unwraps herself from the pillow she’d curled around and rolls onto her back, blinking up at her ceiling sleepily. It comes back slowly, the way she’d burst out with a confession that should’ve driven Ava away but had instead dragged her closer, the way Ava had kissed her and told her she wants her, the way Ava had set aside her own self-proclaimed want so that she could tuck Beatrice into bed to catch up on sleep. The warmth in her stomach bubbles up into her chest, her throat, spreads along her cheeks.  Ava likes her.  Ava wants her, wants everything Beatrice does, wants the sex and the romance and the next steps forward with her.

AO3

[rieamena]

totally (not) beating the allegations

best friend!takuma ino headcanons

contains... best friends to lovers, mutual pining, casual confession of love, kisses (platonic), kisses (romantic), modern au, high school to university au, living together-ish, fem intended reader, pet names (baby, babe, love, sexy, handsome, beautiful, sweetie, the list goes on and on), lots of physical touch, nicknames (you call takuma, kuma.), reader has a mother and a father, y'all are basically dating just without the label...

word count: 2.3k (this wasn't supposed to be long. i told myself 0.8k maximum...)

riea's comments: all sixteen people living in takuma city RISE UP! i miss my husband of 35 years so much, come back to me loml :(( something to munch on while y'all wait for the next full throttle chapter. also not too much on me if this is a drabble and not hcs idk the difference :))

first off... i just wanna say that i KNOW I KNOW that ino is one of the funniest people in the jjk cast idc idc!!! if he had more screentime (and if the situation wasnt dire) my boy would be crackin some jokes!!!!

you've been friends with takuma for around 7 years, your first meeting happening in tenth grade, when your teacher paired you two up for an interview project. when time came to actually record the interviews, it was hard to edit out you two laughing uncontrollably every fifteen seconds or so

i mean, you two just had so much in common!!! same favorite color, same favorite franchise, same favorite tv show, same favorite video game; it was like yall were the same person. there was just one thing you both disagreed on: whether hex code #286061 was blue or green

your argument ended up being the last ten minutes of the final video you submitted...

without a doubt, after that, you two became inseparable. in school, people would take notice of your closeness. when one of you were absent, teachers would jokingly ask "where's the other one?"

there was not a single thing you didn't do together, homework, go to the gym, gossip, eavesdrop, etc etc. so of course, you ended up applying to the same universities and when it came time for college acceptance season...

takuma invited you over, forcing you to bring your mailed letters from the eight universities. sprawling out over his lap, you took in the all too familiar sight of his room. you've been in his room more times than you've been in your own (and vice versa!)

i mean ino's been over to your place so many times that he calls your parents mom and dad. and you've been over to his house so much that takuma's mom practically jumped for joy every time you burst through the front doors with a "guess who's home!!!" so it was completely normal that you guys knew the ins and outs of each other's rooms, right?

"kuma, baby," you started with a sigh, reveling in your best friend's repetitive motions. running his hand through your hair, ino looked down at you, eyes showing that he was listening. "i'm scared, what if we don't–"

"ah-ah-ah! no negativity here!" he cut you off, pushing you off his lap and grabbing the letters you left on his desk. "listen here beautiful," takuma says, bringing a hand to your cheek, his heart swelling when you subconsciously leaned into it, "we're gonna take each other's letters, and open them," he handed you a white envelope, the logo of both of yours dream university on it, "starting with, kyōmei."

taking a well needed deep breath, you nodded. "okay," you and ino began to open the envelopes at the same time, only looking at each other when you saw the status. "accepted or rejected in 3...2...1..."

"ACCEPTED"

"ACCEPTED"

cue the mandatory silence before the screaming. "holy shit. you got in." "you got in." "WE GOT IN!!! WE'RE GOING TO KYŌMEI!!!!" you two practically flew off the bed, jumping up and down in celebration. peppering his face in kisses, you nuzzled your face into takuma's neck. "i'm so proud of us! i mean, kyōmei," you pulled away from his neck, shaking his shoulders harshly, "the kyōmei?!!!"

anyways, soon enough, you both realized that you'd have to move away, resulting in a seven hour search for apartments near the university's campus. and just as takuma was about to give up, you found a listing for units 19A and 19B, right in the heart of the city and just a five minute walk from kyōmei

and with that, it was moving day, well, days is more like it considering that the whole process took like ten days... finding cute furniture is really hard! and moving all of it is even harder!! and don't even get me started on the appliances! although, you and takuma found a way around it

like what do both of you need a microwave for? and there isn't a reason to have two dishwashers, there wasn't even a reason to have one! y'all kept your fridges though... who was gonna be banging on the other's door in the middle of the night for some cold water??

with time, it came for the highly anticipated freshman formal, an welcome event hosted by kyōmei itself, and of course, you had to go. so here you were, staring at your figure in the mirror as your best friend's large hand rubbed your shoulder, the other zipping up your black dress. "all done!" he breathed, taking a step away so that you could see for yourself. "i look so cute~" you giggled, hearing the clack of your heels as you twirled. "you do!" he paused, looking you up and down, "when did you get that dress?"

"your mom gave it to me a couple days ago! where'd you get that tux? i don't think i've seen it before," you walked over and straightened takuma's suit, as he laughed in response, "your mom gave it to me..."

"this was planned."

"this was definitely planned."

"we should send a picture in the family group chat!"

"we should!!! but, hair first!"

notice how i said family group chat, singular, not plural. and that's because there's a gc for both of your families! it's name was a mix between "ino" and your last name, since, in all seriousness, your families were close

so here you were, sitting pretty on takuma's lap as you focused on straightening the front pieces of his hair, because that's what best friends do!

"okayyyy sexyyyy," you squealed, moving out of the way so that takuma could see himself in your vanity mirror, "damnn, i look hot!" he smiled as he checked himself out, his hand firmly on your waist (to make sure that you wouldn't fall, of course!). "i knew i was fine but, did i always look this fine?" he asked, looking up at you with his big dark brown eyes, a playful smirk evident on his face. "yes, takuma. you're the sexiest man ever. just a bit of eyeliner on you and we'll be on our way, okay?"

turning back to your station, you grabbed some brown and black pencils before starting to lightly draw over ino's outer eye corner, "do men as sexy as me really need eyeliner?" a look from you was all he needed to know to shut up and close his eyes

and oh, how he loved being so close to you. not just emotionally but physically as well. like, not every duo can say that they barge into the other's apartment to steal snacks! and speaking of snacks... let me just say, there's a whole cabinet in his kitchen reserved for your favorite foods and! he keeps your favorite ice cream flavor stocked in his freezer

you, on the other hand, have a little space where you hide takuma's favorite anything. chips, gummies, takeout menus, you name it, you have it. because your best friend is oh-so-optimistic, it can be harder for him when he's just not having the best of days. which is why when you go your (not so) separate ways at the end of the day, you pack up a basket for him. ribbons in his favorite color, his top 15 favorite snacks from that one time y'all bought one of everything in a nearby convenience store and ranked them, takeout on the way, horror flicks he's been wanting on dvd because he said "its cooler that way", and a handwritten letter from you, for my kuma, scribbled on the envelope

dropping off the basket at his door and retreating back to your place, you'd press your ear against the wall separating your units, physically feeling your heart break when you heard sniffles. that was all you needed to practically fly over to his, a few boxes of tissues in hand. because that's what best friends do!

and don't even get me started on how many belongings y'all have at the other's place... like that one time takuma walked into your apartment announcing his presence, only to be met with silence. let me set up the scene for you. you are taking a relaxing shower when you hear a knock on the door followed by four more and then three more. "come in!" you called out, unbeknownst to you, ino's voice was closer than you thought

"already in here..., anyways. is my shampoo in there?"

"the one with the purple cap?"

"yeah, thanks babe!"

"wait, can you get me my towel?"

or that time when you causally opened the door to his unit (because it was basically yours too) and greeted him with a simple pat on his head before skipping off to find those jeans you thrifted

slight cohabitation aside, the university life was definitely... something. it was clear and obvious that you two were close, a blind man could see it. but close is a really really really vague word, and it's surely not the word that describes the way the two of you act. in this friendship, terms of endearment drop like rain from clouds. every. other. sentence. contains a "babe" or "baby" or "sweetheart" or "darling" WE GET IT OKAY...

and it seems like if y'all go a single day without touching each other, a bomb will fall from the sky and earth would blow up. his hands are constantly on you, his favorite places (when in public) being your shoulders and arms, and when at home it was without a doubt your waist and thighs. just imagine how difficult it must be for people speak to you both on campus when his arm is slung around you and your hand is holding onto his side. the rumors practically created themselves....

and when i say people were shocked, i mean they were SHOCKED when y'all were like "haha, no, we're not dating!!! we're best friends!" everyone was thinking: yeah best friends who FUCK. best friends who are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. y'all became the campus' it couple without being a couple. how does that happen??!??

however... there were a couple of people who were particularly excited to hear that you both were single. a few girls approached you one day while in the general area, asking if it was true that you and ino weren't dating. "we aren't... why?" one of the girls shifted on her feet, clearly nervous. "well... could you um... give this to him for me?!" she bowed, presenting a pretty pink envelope. you froze, staring at the item before giggling. "i see what this is about! don't worry! i'll make sure this gets to him safely!" long story short, that letter was never delivered

and on ino's side, he had some classmates pestering him about you. asking for your favorite show, candy, date style, everything under the sun. "guys, guys! she doesn't even want a boyfriend right now!" takuma shouted, even though two days prior you were complaining about how spending too much time with him was scaring all the hotties away

but let's get into the real stuff... the realization of love

for takuma, there wasn't a "wow, i'm in love with her" moment. what he does know though is that he started feeling something different for you a few months before college admission season. to him, the world was always bright with you by his side but now... it was so much brighter. it was like looking directly into the sun; it hurt but he couldn't look away, he doesn't want to look away. you're the best thing to ever happen to him, and the mere thought of ruining what you have just for some feeling—no matter how intense—isn't... right to him

and you figured it out after a dream you had one night back in high school. you dreamt of being in takuma's arms, the ones you snuck glances at when he wasn't paying attention to you. in not dream world, all you had to do was ask and he'd gladly envelop you but the vibes in this dream were different. there was tension. and it was thick. his beanie was off and thrown somewhere on the bed, your bed. looking back at him, your breath caught in your throat, "hey pretty," he slurred, drunk off tiredness. ino's called you beautiful more times than you can count; he made sure to do it at least once a week, so why... just why did this time make your stomach heat up and your heart race? you woke up with a flushed face, queasy feeling in your gut, and a deep understanding. it wasn't just platonic love anymore

"hey," you started, eyes trained on the movie in front of you, but your mind was focused on something else, "y'know how everyone thinks we're dating?" ino nodded as you reached over to grab the bowl of popcorn. "i've been thinking... maybe they're onto something..."

takuma's gulp could be heard from miles away, "wh-what are you trying to say?"

"what are we? seriously. because i can't sit here and pretend like i don't wish we were something more."

"something more like...?"

"now's not the time to be oblivious! don't you get it?! i'm—"

"i'm in love with you,"

it was like time stood still as you looked at your best friend. his face was lit by the tv screen a couple feet away, his hair was a mess, and slightly prominent dark circles were under his eyes, but... he's never looked more beautiful to you. "have been. for a long time. we've basically been dating for like four years already. four more and then we'll get married?" he flashed his signature smile

"oh, shut up," he brought your face millimeters away from his, whispering "make me." before kissing you deeply, not on your cheek, or your forehead, or your shoulders, but on your lips this time. and all the times after that too

because that's what best friends lovers do, right?

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes

[caramelkoo]

before we shatter — jjk [one]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 6k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.

read part two here

a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.

When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.

An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.

After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside. 

Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still. 

You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said. 

Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles. 

Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms. 

It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across. 

He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist. 

He heals you.

Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily. 

This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.

“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.

You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.

Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.

Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.

You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?” 

Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.” 

Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything”

“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.” 

Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.” 

“Thanks a lot.” 

With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you. 

“Hey” 

“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you? 

“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”

You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together. 

He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down” 

Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him. 

“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?” 

“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.

“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible” 

You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”

Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.” 

It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath. 

Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated” 

“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?” 

This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise” 

“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.

The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go. 

Let go of your happiness.

Let go of your salvation.

Let go of your comfort.

Let go of Jungkook.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest. 

“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.

You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me” 

He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.

“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that. 

You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.” 

He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.” 

You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.” 

Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?” 

Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.

It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread. 

You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies. 

“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?” 

“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?” 

You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave” 

His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning” 

Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more. 

You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible” 

He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands. 

You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you. 

“How long has it been since you began making this?” 

“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”

You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.

He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?” 

A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there. 

“You smell so good” 

“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him,  “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.” 

“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.

“You’re gonna spoil her” 

“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.” 

There it is. 

If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.

You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.

This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose. 

“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry. 

You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?” 

Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.

He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,

“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back” 

“Where are you goi-”

“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support. 

“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog. 

He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.

He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?” 

Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles. 

His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”  

He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft. 

“Mom sent this for you.” 

You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item. 

“It’s beautiful”

He gently wipes the tears away,

“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.” 

You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming” 

“What is?” he asks,

“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough” 

Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,

His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,

“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,

Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,

Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this. 

You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?

To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.

“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.” 

His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.” 

Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.

Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.

“Wait, I-I want to talk about something” 

His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips. 

Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips. 

He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off. 

His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.

“Jungkook, please” 

He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?” 

“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.” 

“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?” 

At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate. 

He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?” 

Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts. 

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss. 

He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it” 

You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”  

Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath. 

He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs. 

When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already. 

Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you. 

Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine” 

You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.” 

His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it. 

“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes. 

Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.” 

He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop. 

“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth. 

You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.

Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.

Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?” 

“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.

It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does. 

Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory. 

“Lose the pants” he commands. 

You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him. 

You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities. 

“God you’re dripping, honey” 

“For you” you admit.

Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly. 

His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?” 

A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.

He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt” 

You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm. 

“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.

Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss. 

He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen” 

Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy. 

You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.

A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him. 

He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less. 

“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.” 

Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears. 

“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out. 

Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.

Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you. 

“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?” 

You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens. 

His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it. 

He smirks, “Like what you see, honey” 

“You’re beautiful” 

His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.

You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.” 

“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again. 

His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.

You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers. 

You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come. 

Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.

You murmur. “I love you” 

His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle” 

He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.” 

Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something. 

But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.

An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away. 

You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right. 

He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time? 

You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?” 

When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere” 

Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet. 

You grin, “I wouldn’t let you” 

He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them. 

“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises. 

Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight. 

Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.

Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?” 

For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.

Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you? 

The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"

@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3

[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon

[httpsleclerc]

the story of us: chapter 3

pairings: Charles Leclerc x Single Mom!Verstappen!Reader, Max Verstappen x Sister!Reader

summary: you run into a ghost from your past, and take the biggest step possible to prove him wrong about what he thinks of you.

c/w: baby trapping, mentions of domestic abuse and violence, mentions of child abuse, verbal abuse from a spouse, idk if its a warning but its mentioned that the reader is breastfeeding?? although it is implied in other parts!

word count: 4.3k (she's a hefty one x)

a/n: here she is!! the third chapter that's somehow 4300 words exactly!! as always, feedback is always appreciated!!

series masterlist // main masterlist

Lukas watched you from the Red Bull garage, his eyes narrowed as he watched your brother's friend, Charles, place his hands on the curve of your stomach, feeling as your daughter kicked against his palms. He didn't like Charles, he saw the way that he looked at you, like you could be his, but that's what the ever growing bump of your stomach showed - You couldn't be his, and even if it meant giving you another baby to make sure that he took the hint, then that's what Lukas would do. He put his anger aside, shaking himself of it as he put on the happy boyfriend act, smiling politely as he made his way over to you, protectively placing his hand over your belly, where Charles' hand had previously lingered.

"Hi," You smiled up at your boyfriend, humming as he dipped down to press a small kiss to your lips. In the past 8 months, Lukas had successfully managed to convince both you and your brother that he had completely changed - Although he knew he hadn't and wouldn't; You made it so easy, he had previously laughed at you, telling you that the way your father had treated you as a child was a result of how trusting you were. In an effort to convince you of his change of ways, he had apologised for what he had said, claiming that he was just angry at your so called father for how he had treated you. "This is Max's um...friend? Charles." You introduced him to the Monegasque, who eyed him carefully.

Charles had heard the tales from Max of how Lukas had previously treated of you, of how he had one time hit you so hard, that you ended up with concussion. He told him of how he didn't let you speak to him or Victoria, that he looked through your phone to block their numbers and that you could only talk to them if you had happened to bump into either of them. Charles had been heartbroken to hear that even if Max had managed to escape the cycle of abuse that his father had put him through, it appeared that you hadn't - Ever since you had started dating, every boyfriend had treated you horribly, you were trapped in the cycle of abuse, and it was clear that Lukas' abusive and controlling behaviour had no intention of letting you go.

"Hi, you must be Y/N's boyfriend," Charles remained friendly despite Lukas' silent hostility towards him. "Congratulations on the baby, Y/N was just telling me how excited she is to be a mother." He smiled back at you, he could never tell you how uneasy he felt around your boyfriend, but would definitely tell Max. Looking at Charles, Lukas huffed, rolling his eyes at the Monegasque.

"Yeah, thanks. She's going to be a great mother to our little ones, right Y/N?" He grinned at Charles, whose smile fell as you simply hummed and nodded. He remembered how as a child you wanted to be a doctor, but your dad had all but beaten the passion for anything out of you - Charles knew how incredibly smart you were, he hated to see all of your potential go to waste as a result of being forced to bare and raise this man's children. Again, this was something that he could ever say to you out loud, since you appeared to be so content at the thought of doing so. "Anyway, we should get you to sit down, love. Don't want you going into labour this early. See you later, Charles."

"But-"

"No buts, Y/N. Go and sit down." Lukas' tone was harsh, and it was dark. Charles could see you shrink into yourself as much as you could, breaking his heart as he realised that even now you were 21, you were still the same little girl's who's father would both verbally and physically harm her, with no one to help her. 

Charles was certain he would help you out of this, even if it was just providing an ear for you, for someone you could talk to.

If only he'd known that this was a rare outing for you, Lukas had convinced you that you would be better off in the safety of your shared apartment, that you and your baby would be the best protected in there.

You groaned as you woke up, the Monte Carlo sun streaming through the curtains of your room. You were thankful to Max and Kelly, they had made sure that the room felt like a safe space for you and Romy, and it did, which you could prove by how settled your daughter was in the space. Rolling over, you sighed in relief as you saw your baby still fast asleep, luckily, she had only woken up to be fed once during the night. Sliding into your slippers and pulling one of Max's hoodies on, you made your way out to the living room, gently closing the door behind you as not to disturb your sleeping baby.

"Auntie Y/N!" Penelope cheered happily, running to greet you excitedly. 

"P, you have to be quiet, Romy is still asleep," Kelly gently told her off, shooting you a sorry look for the noise that she was making.

"But I'm so excited to see auntie Y/N,' The girl pouted at her mother, making you smile as you bent down to pick her up, holding her at her hip. "I'm so happy you and Romy live here with me and mama and Maxie now." You smiled, you had told her when you first met her that you used to call your brother Maxie as a way to annoy him, but now when Max heard either you or Penelope call him Maxie, it made him happy. 

"Well me and Romy are so happy to live here with you, and your mama and Maxie too. Sometimes you just need to listen to your mama so you don't wake up Romy and she's crying, then you can't hear your cartoons," You told her, pushing the hair away from her face as she nodded. Kelly smiled at the interaction between you and her daughter, she had always told Max that you would make a great mother, the two of them had just wished you had become one under better circumstances and with a better man.

Maybe a man like Charles, would have been better.

You made your way around the kitchen, Penelope still in your arms as you made tea for you and Kelly, before placing her down on her feet and setting her off to go and sit with her mother. She smiled thankfully as she took the warm mug from your hands, holding it in her down as Penelope settled beside her.

"Before you ask, they never actually settle," You both laughed at how hyperactive Penelope appeared to be, she certainly had the DNA of a racing driver in her. "So, I was thinking. If you're open to it, maybe you could have Max baby sit Romy and Penelope and you and I could have a girls day together?" Kelly suggested. You thought about it, you had never left your daughter with anyone, you had never even left her alone with Lukas - But the more you thought about it, the more you realised that your brother would never intentionally do anything to harm your daughter, he loved Romy, so why would he hurt her?

Lukas said he loved you and he hurt you.

You gently shook your head of the thought. Letting out a deep sigh, you realised that maybe you did need your hair done, and maybe your nails could benefit from a pretty red shade, maybe Ferrari red, for your favourite driver of course-

Wait.

No.

Max was your favourite driver, of course your brother was your favourite driver. Why would it be Charles? You were a Red Bull fan, it was the team that gave your brother his biggest successes and clearly made him so happy. Red Bull didn't have Charles though. 

"Yeah, that sounds nice," You nodded and smiled at the suggestion, trying to shake your head of the thoughts of Charles that plagued your mind. "At least I know that she won't be fussy, she loves Max so much." You told Kelly, who hummed in agreement as she nodded.

"He's great with P too, but Romy loves him," She agreed with you. You giggled as you nudged her gently, watching as she blushed. "What?"

"You know what I'm gonna say," You grinned, watching as Kelly adamantly shook her head. "Max would be such a good dad, you did say that he's great with P and Romy. Not like it would be hard from what we had as kids," She smiled sadly at the last part of your sentence, even with Max, it broke her heart to hear how normalised abuse was for you and Max as children.

"Not for a while, at least. And anyway, I'm pretty sure that you're thinking the same about Charles, right? You see how much Romy loves him and how good he is with her, you think that your baby's a good judge of character and normally you're right," You watched in amazement, Kelly had read your mind of the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind since your second meeting with Charles.

"You are scarily good at that."

Lukas watched as your face contorted in pain, sweat beading on your forehead as another contraction gripped you, each one more painful than the next. His hand rested gently on your back, rubbing small circles as you cried out in pain. He smiled maliciously, he had isolated you so much that you had no one to cry out for - but he supposed that he could thank your mother and father for that, your mother for making you feel unwanted, and your father for his overall abusive nature.

He did have to hand it to himself, he was a mastermind - He had successfully convinced you that Max and Victoria weren't happy for you, and that now, all you needed was him and your daughter. He had you as vulnerable as he could ever see you, completely dependent on him for everything in this moment.

"Lukas, I want Vic here," You cried for your older sister, even though Lukas had convinced you that she was jealous of you, despite having 3 kids of her own. He shook his head as he rested his forehead on your own, looking you in the eyes as he tried to soothe you.

"No, love, you're okay, I'm right here, I'm all that you need," He whispered, watching as you whined in pain, whimpering in pain as another contraction gripped you. "You're doing so well. Bringing our girl into the world, just like you should." He spoke the last part to himself, already planning how soon he was going to give you another baby. Maybe 6 weeks after would be too quick, raise too many eyebrows at how quickly you'd fallen pregnant again. For you, it felt like hours before doctors and midwives flooded into your room, telling you when to push, all while Lukas stood at your side, holding your hand as you squeezed his with every push.

And finally, your daughter made her entrance into the world with a piercing wail, the doctors rushing to lift her from between your legs and onto your chest as she continued wailing. Instinctively, you gently stroked her small face as to try and soothe her, whispering soothing words to her in Dutch.

Lukas watched, a grin on his face as he realised that he well and truly had you trapped now. Convincing you to stay with him had been easier, but convincing you to keep your baby had been a bit tougher, you claimed that you still wanted to go to University and get a degree and start a career - But he knew how to get his way. He had planted the seeds of being a stay-at-home mom in your head, telling you of how staying at home with your daughter would be much more fulfilling than any degree or career would ever be, and anyway, it was his job to provide for the two of you, so long as you made sure that Romy was looked after and the house was clean. He realised he had gotten everything that he wanted, you were his now.

You looked into your daughter's eyes, yours softening as her cries quieted, recognising you as her mother and the familiarity of the comfort that you provided. Watching this interaction, Lukas knew that now, you were in no position to leave - Your brain had been through so much in the past 9 months with your hormones being all over the place, your maternal instincts became stronger, and now he could see it.

"You did such a good job, love," He placed his hand on your back, watching as you remained completely enamoured with your daughter, as if you were entranced by her. "She's beautiful, just like you." You smiled as you looked up at him.

"Thank you for giving her to me, I love you," You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he smiled as he realised just how far you had fallen into his trap. He was certain that you would never leave now.

You and Kelly had truly done some damage on Max's card, the bags on both of your arms had proved that at the end of the month, your brother would be paying off a hefty credit card bill. Yet again, he had told the two of you to treat yourselves to something nice, maybe he should have been more specific in what he meant by something. You were happy that Kelly had suggested a girls afternoon, you hadn't had much time for looking after yourself since you had Romy, any time you needed to get your hair done you trimmed your ends yourself before putting yet another box dye over it.

But now, you felt good about yourself. And if your brother had anything to say about it, you knew he would fold against your puppy eyes, you had played him with those for years to get what you wanted - Even if it was just his attention. Everyone knew that Max was practically incapable of being mad at this baby sister, especially after everything that you had been through.

The two of you laughed as you walked through the streets of Monte Carlo, the 3 mimosas that you had with lunch had dampened down your anxiety about being in such a crowded open space - You had insisted on having more, but Kelly had cut you off before you started getting drunk. However, you quickly sobered up as you noticed the familiar face coming towards you.

Lukas.

Kelly looked back, noticing how you had stopped in your tracks as your ex boyfriend made your way towards the two of you. She made her way back to you before Lukas could, taking a hold of your hand to provide you with at least some support. You could feel your heart racing in your chest as he made his way towards you, grabbing your arm tightly as he got in your face.

"I see that you've already moved on," He snarled, up close and personal to you. "You know I'm the only one who can look after you, the two of you. What can Charles give you that I can't hm? I told you that he was bad news, he's only going to hurt you and Romy - You know that I'll keep you safe." He almost smiled at the fear in your eyes, tightening the grip on your arm hard enough to leave a bruise.

"No, you just hurt me, Lukas, and I'm not going to let you hurt Romy the same way that you hurt me. She's just a baby," You told him, trying to uphold your confident facade. "Charles is just a friend, and even then, he is more involved with our daughter than you ever were." You narrowed your eyes, pulling your arm out of his grip.

"You'll come crawling back to me, Y/N. You always come crawling back," You ignored him as you walked away, Kelly rubbing your back as you kept your vision focused on what was in front of you, despite your vision blurring with tears. You stumbled into a quiet alley, your resolve dissolving as you broke down into tears in her arms. 

"You did so well, Y/N, you were so brave," She told you, trying her best to try and comfort you. Even if for some reason you didn't believe her, she was telling you the truth - If she was being honest, she was expecting you to have burst into tears in the face of Lukas. "He doesn't deserve you and Romy, and I know that it's hard doing it on your own, but you know that you and have me and that you have Max...I'm sure that if you asked, Charles would love to spend time with Romy." You sniffled, rubbing your nose as you looked up at Kelly.

"I don't know why he still wants to be involved with me, I just want him to leave me and Romy alone," You hiccuped, wiping your eyes of tears and you tried to pull yourself together. "He never wanted anything to do with her and he only wants to be involved with her now to try and get me back. I'm not falling for it again Kelly." You told her confidently, sure of yourself that this time you wouldn't go back to him, you were determined to prove him wrong.

"I know, you know my parents used to bring me and my brothers here? I thought that maybe it could be something we could do with Romy," He said, only to stumble over his words as you looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "Nono, I-I didn't mean like a date or anything like that...not that I don't want something like that with you! I think you're really pretty and Romy is the most perfect little girl and-...I am making a fool of myself, aren't I?" He held his head in hands, his cheeks heating up as he realised how much he had been rambling.

You giggled, placing your free hand on Charles' back as a means to try and comfort him. He looked up at you, a blush creeping over his cheeks as he made eye contact with you.

Your fingers hovered over the call button on your phone, Romy lay on your chest, sound asleep after her last feed. She was apparently exhausted after spending the day with her uncle Max and Penelope, you wished that you could live the life that your 7 month-old did; She woke up, had breakfast, fell asleep, woke up, had a feed, played for a bit, fell asleep again until she had dinner, had a bath and then went to sleep and repeated the day again all over the next. 

With a hand resting on her small back, you bit the bullet, pressing the call button on Charles' contact. It only took a couple rings, almost as if he had been anticipating your call.

"Y/N! Hi, how are you? How is Romy?" You smiled at his gleeful tone, and his immediate concern for both you and your daughter. 

"Hi Charles, we're fine, I um...I was out with Kelly earlier today so Max was in charge of P and Romy, surprisingly they're both still in one piece," You laughed, rubbing your hand up and down Romy's small back as she let out a small whimper. "So..I was thinking about what you said, about you thinking that I'm really pretty and whatever." You trailed off as nerves grew in your stomach.

"Oh, I am so sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, Cherie," You could tell from his bashful tone that he was embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed or-or even upset!"

"Charles!" You giggled, cutting him off before he could ramble further. "I just called to see if you wanted to go out to dinner one night, just the two of us." You offered him, the silence on the other end suffocating enough to make you feel as though you had just made the biggest fool of yourself.

"I would love that, when are you free?" 

"Charles, I'm basically a stay at home mum, I'm free any time I can get someone to watch Romy," You smiled, even though he couldn't see it. "What about Tuesday?" 

"Yes, I am free on Tuesday, I will make us a reservation. I'll see you then cherie."

"Yeah, I'll see you then Charles."

You hung up, with a giddy smile on your face. You were sure that your newfound confidence had something to do with proving Lukas, and for a matter of fact, everyone else wrong. Everyone had you down as being in a constant cycle of abusive relationships - well now, you were about to try and prove them wrong. You sighed, feeling the weight of the world lift off of your shoulders, and you placed a small kiss on the crown of your daughter's head, gently placing her into the cot beside your bed.

You could barely contain your excitement as you walked out into the living room, causing Max to raise and eyebrow and Kelly to give you a knowing look.

"What's got you so excited, kleine zusje?" Max asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you as he took in your excited nature. You giggled as you ran over to the couch, once again settling yourself between him and Kelly.

He laughed yet found it endearing, for most of your childhood, Max had taken care of you, he had been the one to clean up the cuts which your father caused as a result of the beatings you endured; And here he was now, making sure that both you and your daughter were looked after. He would never complain, and was grateful for the relationship that you shared with Kelly, he was happy that he was with someone who was able to realise how much his baby sister had been through and not try to force a relationship with you. She had worked on building your relationship, not forcing you into doing things that you weren't comfortable with.

"So, I have a date on Tuesday," You told them, a wide smile on your face. Both Max and Kelly knew who it was with, but wanted to hear it from you on your own accord. "...It's with Charles. So could I ask you guys to maybe watch Romy that night?" You asked them timidly, you didn't know why you felt so guilty asking them to babysit your daughter, for one night for at most, 4 hours.

"Of course we will."

You let out a deep breath as you looked in the mirror, moving your freshly curled hair away from your face as you did a last once-more over your makeup. You adjusted your dress the best that you could, in your slow but steady weaning of Romy, your boobs had become significantly bigger once more, so the dress that you had bought the week before had become tighter around your chest.

"Knock Knock," You turned around to look at the door of your room, smiling as you saw Kelly making her way into your bedroom. "Oh, you look beautiful, Y/N." She smiled at you, standing behind you.

"Thanks, my dress feels really tight but I guess that's what I get for deciding to wean a breastfed baby 1 week before I end up going on a date," You joked, pulling your dress up once more to try and cover more of your chest. 

"Well, either way, you look beautiful, you're gonna blow Charles away with how stunning you look," She smiled at you, almost with tears in her eyes. "So, Romy is settled, Penelope is sitting ready for her to wake up so she can play blocks with her." 

"Of course she is, at least we know that they're going to get along," The two of you laughed, as you stood up and put your jacket on. "Well, I should get going, I think Charles is outside." The two of you left your bedroom, luckily for you, Max was occupied with your daughter so that he wouldn't see your outfit, otherwise he would have gone incredibly big brother on you. You said goodbye to Kelly and headed down the stairs, where Charles waited for you in the lobby, a lily in his hand as he waited for you.

"Oh, wow, you look absolutely beautiful, Cherie," He greeted you, kissing each side of your face, and smiling as you unashamedly blushed.

"Thank you, Charles. You look so handsome," You still blushed, but smiled up at him as he offered his arm out to you, which you happily linked. "So, where are we going?" You asked him, tilting your head as you smiled.

"Well, I wasn't entirely sure what you liked, but I remember you said when we were kids that you liked pasta, so I thought that we could go to this Italian that my maman loves, I think that you'll really like it." He opened the door of his Ferrari, offering you his hand to help you down into the super car before getting in himself.

And suddenly, all of the nerves in your stomach disappeared, and now you just had to see how the night went.

Taglist - Currently Closed as I ican't get it to work :(((

[kabuki-writes]

Interlude || The Prize Of A Father's Pride

chapter: 5 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: General Acacius is forced to tell his daughter, that she will soon marry Emperor Geta and become Empress of Rome - a trade, which saved her life and that of her family, but at what cost?

warning(s): angrsty themes | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: We already reached chapter 5 !?!??! Hell, yes! And we're getting further and further. So before this whole plot picks up a little more speed, i thought a small interlude feat. Acacius would be a nice little treat. The next chapter is going to be longer again.

word count: 1.7k

You stood in the archways that led to the inner garden of your family's home. The curtain of the night had already laid itself upon the sky, when you'd reached it, the haunting grin of Caracalla and the words about your father were still on your mind. He had given you no answer on why you should thank the General, and it didn't sound like it was even something to thank him for either. It was more like whatever it was it was about to benefit the Emperors. Yet you knew your father and despite him never speaking it out loud - you've noticed how much he despised the royal twins.

The night was quiet and the villa was softly illuminated by the torches, which the slaves always lit up as soon as dawn came. Your mother knew about your whereabouts, that you went off to the theater with your friends Cicero and Lydia, nothing out of the ordinary. That you met the Emperor Caracalla during your night out was neither planned nor hoped for and yet the time you'd spend alongside him in the royal box still lingered in your head. Should you tell your parents? Maybe it was best to keep it in the shadows, as you didn't want them to worry more than necessary about you.

But when you approached the garden, you heard the quiet sobbing of your dear mother from the distance. You were on your way to your rooms, yet you couldn't ignore something like this, so you stopped beside a pillar and looked down to the inner courtyard with its beautiful pond and the many plants that provided shade during the summer months. You saw between the palm trees, cedars and bushes how your mother kneeled in front of your father, while he hold her in his arms as if something terrible happened - as if someone died.

You were not able to stand it any longer without knowing what happenes, so you stepped out and made yourself noticable.

"Mother? Father? What happened?", you asked quickly, but when Acacius raised his head to look into your direction, there was nothing but pain and suffering in his eyes. The way his eyes were locked on you made your heart sink down to your feet as it was crystal clear that it might have something to do with you. "y/n...", he began, but got disrupted by the sobbing of your mother. "Tell her, Acacius! Please, you need to tell her!"

It broke your heart to see your mother in that state, huddled together and in tears. But what was even worse was the news your father would tell you right in that very moment: "y/n, you... i am sorry," he started and clearly struggled to find the right words. You've never seen your father like this. "I gave my consent to a marriage between you and Emperor Geta."

Your eyes widened and your face went pale in an instant as you froze in your position. "What do you mean?", the trembling words fell from your lips. A marriage?!

"You will marry the Emperor," Acacius repeated, his voice clear but racked with pain. And after a couple of long minutes it finally hit you like an arrow right into the heart. Your breath becme quicker and you had to sit down on one of the stone benches. In this moment you were not even able to bare the sight of your parents, while the realization kicked in. No tears came from your eyes, in fact, it even surprised your own father how you took the news. But the depiction of stoicism came at a high cost, as you clearly had to fight within you against the urge to just scream.

And your father knew that. He knew you better than anyone, you were always his sun and stars, the one person beside his wife to which he tried to come back every single time when he went off to war. Slowly your mother came back to her feet with the help of her husband, but her usual soft face was covered in tears and her eyes were swollen and red as she looked at you. "What have you done, my love... ? You need to be honest with y/n, please... i beg you. She needs to know," she whispered with an urgency in her voice and even a small amount of anger.

Your eyes ripped themselves from the pond in front of you, staring at your father, who looked at you like a broken man. "He threatened to kill you and your mother, it was the only option... trust me, i would've never agreed to it otherwise. May the gods damn me for my pride, that i thought i would be able to put them down together with the senate. It was a plan that is nothing more than dust and ashes now." Acacius rushed to you and took your hands into his, pressing them tightly as if he feared you would fade away if he didn't. "I can never forgive myself to put you into a position like that, y/n," he whispered, and for the very first time, you witnessed the fear in your father's eyes. And he feared for you.

But all those words disappeared in your ears, as you tried desperately to numb the anxiety within you. Now the words that Caracalla said to you made sense and they echoed in your head once more. Nonetheless how could you hate your father for this? You knew he did it for the sake of the people, he always fought for Rome and never for himself. This was the way he was and you would've never wanted it to be otherwise. Yet you were now the one to bear the consequences of your father's actions, a sacrifice. For the first time in your life, you were the one to protect this family... and you wanted to take this risk. Not that there was an option anyways.

So you took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in your throat, while you stood up from the bench and looked your father right into his eyes. "There is nothing we can do about it, don't we? The die is cast and we have to live with the consequences," you said, even though your voice was cracking for a moment before you took one hand of your mother and one of your father, pressing them gentle and in a reassuring way, even though you still saw how much they suffered. You were their only daughter after all and even if it wouldn't be the Emperor, a marriage always called for a daughter to leave her parents behind. "Please... i don't want you to look at me like i am already dead", you whispered with a hint of desperation as it hurt you even more that your own parents still treated you like they had to protect you from this world. If fate wanted this to happen, then you would find your way through it.

"I will marry him. If that will save my own life and yours then be it", you said again, while ran down your mothers cheeks once again as she hold your hand in ache. She said your name before her voice stopped. But in that very moment, your father stepped in and pulled you into a tight hug, holding you for a long moment that felt like an eternity. Acacius blamed himself entirely for all that was happening and in this very moment, he promised to himself that he will find a way to get you out of this situation. There was still hope, if he was able to be careful enough.

"You're my daughter, y/n... i know you will not lose yourself in this, i know it...and i will always be proud of you, no matter what...", he mumbled in reassurance, trying desperately to fullfill your wish not to treat all of this as it was your clear funeral. That wouldn't be right, he knew that too. You would live on, but at what cost?

"How much time do i have left?", you suddenly asked, while you slowly removed yourself from your father's arms. Right now the whole situation was still so unreal for you, even though you knew this will change soon enough. The brows of your father furrowed as he took your mother's hand to hold her and give her something of the strength he'd recovered - at least a bit. "Sadly Emperor Geta made sure not to waste any time with this: He expects the stipulatio (engagement promise) tomorrow, a celebration will happen at the palace to announce it publicly... and then the formal wedding will take place in two weeks, still in Juno to avoid that bad luck falls onto your union."

"As if the gods would grant him luck with a forced marriage like this," your mother mumbled, while she tried her best to wipe away her tears and regain her posture. "There are not even enough sheep in all of Rome that he could sacrifice for this..." She was still pale like a corpse due to this news, but at least she was able to regain her anger again despite the helplessness.

Your fingers buried themselves into the fabric of your pale blue toga as you recollected your thoughts. There was no time left, no real time. But did you expect it to be otherwise? In a way, a lot of women would envy you for this opportunity. Marrying an Emperor meant that you would rise up to be an Empress alongside a God, nothing was more noble and meaningful. Men fought wars to earn power and honor, women needed to take a different path in this world, marrying and bearing children - only to be sidelined by history nonetheless. You didn't want to face the same fate. And in the end you were still your father's daughter through and through, carrying the family name like a ritiualistic armor.

“Whatever anyone does or says, I must be emerald and keep my colour," you whispered a quote and your father instantly got it. With an understanding nod, a weak smile appeared on his lips.

"Marcus Aurelius...", Acacius noticed right away as it was a quote from his 'meditations' which your father had given you to read. It helped you now more than ever and the same could've been said about Acacius as well.

_________________________________

Tags:

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[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 6

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 5 | Series Masterlist | Part 7

Chapter Summary: You're determined to have a quiet rest of the day without seeing or thinking about Bucky.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sat in the tub, the cascading water from the shower head flowing over you as you stared at the opposite wall. Normally you welcomed the heat and billowing steam, but you shivered the longer you stayed there. The sound of the water droplets couldn't drown out Bucky’s moans or words from your mind.

“I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.”

“You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”

“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.”

With a groan, you leaned your head against the wall. The man jerked off to the thought of you. No one ever desired you like that, at least not that you knew of. More than that he wanted you in his home. By his side. Why? You couldn't grasp why he wanted you so badly.

You also couldn't deny that his words got to you, if your wet your underwear was anything to judge by when you peeled them off. Were you so desperate for a semblance of affection that a few dirty words from a terrifying man turned you on? What did that say about you?

Just like the last couple of days, that was too much to unpack.

“I’m not special,” you whispered.

You could practically see Bucky across from you with sadness in his eyes, the way he looked at you when you argued last night that you weren't special. He didn't believe that for a second. Quite the opposite. He saw something in you that others didn't. Wasn't that what you wanted deep down? To be seen? Cherished?

Not like this.

“Get up,” you muttered, carefully getting to your feet. You weren't going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Things could always be worse. All things considered, Bucky hadn't hurt you. Hadn't lied to you either, as far as you knew. Which made your heart ache at that thought of leaving your place behind.

If Bucky kept his promise and forced you to move in, what would you tell your friends? Would they think you were crazy for moving so fast or would they not question it at all because Bucky was rich, handsome, and they would assume he made you happy? You’d say what you had to if it meant keeping them safe, but feared it could possibly put up a wall between you and the group since you couldn't tell them the full truth. Maybe his intention was to drive you away from them and bring you closer to him.

Your head began to ache from the overanalyzing. “I’m not going to think about Bucky Barnes.” Shutting the water off, you pushed the questions and scenarios as far from your mind as possible as you went about the rest of your morning. The rest of the day would be routine, normal, nothing out of the ordinary.

Naturally, Bucky messaged you once you finished getting dressed to prove you wrong. “Thinking of you. Are you thinking of me?”

You swallowed dryly as you typed back to him. It was like he knew you were trying to forget about everything. “I think you want me to think about you.”

It didn't take him long to respond. “Of course, I do. I hope you’re thinking about our chat from earlier and when we can finish it.” The man didn't want to just get in your head. He wanted to get under your skin. “Is it too much to ask for a photo? You have such a beautiful smile.”

You scoffed both from the audacity and boldness. It wasn't enough that he pleasured himself while talking to you, he wanted a photo of you, too? He specifically noted your smile. Was it really beautiful? “Just because you sent me photos of you in your jackets doesn't mean I have to send photos back.”

“Pretty please?”

It was almost cute. “Not today. Sorry, Bucky.”

“That’s okay. Was worth a shot. Maybe I can convince you to let me take a photo when I see you tonight.”

You froze. There it was. Not “if” he’d see you tonight, but “when”. There was no stopping him, was there? Maybe it was that thought that possessed you to goad him because you couldn't otherwise explain why you sent what you did. “You won’t see me because I have plans. But tell you what. If by any chance you do see me tonight, I’ll let you take a photo.”

You blinked and reread your message. Why did you do that? Sending that was as stupid as it was impulsive and would only encourage him.

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

Your stomach twisted in knots, but you sent one last reply. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

Bucky was so convinced he’d see you and there was a good chance he would, but you’d make him work for it a little. You wouldn't stick around your apartment. That would probably be the first place he’d look for you.

Catch me if you can.

Your shift went as normal as could be. Steady enough to keep you busy, but not feel overwhelmed. No difficult customers. No surprise visits from Bucky either, though you kept waiting for him to walk through the door.

There was no relief though once you clocked out since you had no idea where you'd hide out for the rest of the day. Everyone you reached out to was busy. Addison, of course, was going out to dinner with Brady and you didn't bother messaging her. Dana had a double date with another of your friends. The rest all had romantic evenings planned, too. They apologized like always.

Was it bad that you were kind of used to it?

A message from Bucky appeared the second you stepped out of the shop. “Any chance you’ll give me a clue where you’ll be?”

You sighed, a sense of weariness seeping in that you couldn't blame on work. “Not a chance.”

“Should I go find you now? I’m a little bored.”

Your gaze darted from left to right. Was he already nearby somewhere watching? “If you're bored, read a book.”

A smile crossed your face when you suddenly thought about where to go. You told yourself earlier you didn't want to think about Bucky for the rest of the day. What better way than to distract yourself with a book? And what better place than your favorite bookstore, Turn the Page?

Before you tucked your phone away, you turned the GPS off just in case Bucky had a way to get access to it. You wouldn't put it past him to try. You wouldn't take your normal route either. It was crazy to think things like a routine could be a bad thing, but Bucky made you question everything.

Walking through the city, you occasionally glanced back over your shoulder to make sure no one was following you. No one looked your way, too occupied with their own agendas as they shuffled around you. Something still felt off, goosebumps forming on your arms and your heart sinking as you felt a pair of steel eyes on you.

You didn't realize you stopped walking until someone nearly collided with you. “I’m so sorry,” you said, giving you the push you needed to move again. Quickening your pace, you reminded yourself it was still light out. People were around. Even if Bucky was following you, what would he do?

You moved forward and didn't look back until you found yourself at the bookstore, taking a calming breath before you walked in. Turn the Page had a cozy and peaceful atmosphere with a range from classic to modern stories. You could spend hours there and feel perfectly at home.

“Hey, Marc,” you smiled at the man behind the counter.

“Hey. Good to see you,” Marc smiled back. He took over the bookstore over a year ago. Friendly for the most part and took pride in the shop. “Anything I can help you find? Just finished setting up some new releases.”

“No thanks,” you replied, selecting a thick romance novel that would pass the time. “I was just going to hang around and read for a bit if you don't mind.”

“Not at all. Can I get you anything to drink or eat? Coffee? Baked good?” He offered, nodding to the tiny cafe area in the corner.

“Just water for now, please,” you said. You probably needed to eat, but you’d wait for your nerves to fully settle. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, going to grab you your drink as you followed.

“Have you heard of The 107th?” You asked. You weren't sure what possessed you to do so. Maybe it was because he seemed like a neutral person to talk to.

“The nightclub?” Mark eyed you curiously. “That doesn't seem like your scene.”

“I’ve only been once. A friend's bachelorette party over a month ago,” you explained, assuming he meant it wasn't your type of scene since you weren't a party girl. “But I may have met the owner recently.”

Marc kept a neutral expression, but noticeably paused before he handed the glass over. “You met Bucky Barnes?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shifting on your feet. “Do you know him?”

He busied himself by cleaning the counter. “Yeah, I know him,” he said, your chest tight. How? “Well, I wouldn't say I know him well. I’ve only met him a couple of times. A lot of the local owners have since he has a hand in quite a few endeavors. Donates to the local hospital and charities, too.”

“That’s nice,” you croaked, taking a sip. If he had a hand in local businesses, was it possible that he met your boss? “He seemed very driven when I spoke to him.”

“That he is,” he agreed, tossing the rag away. “Also dangerous,” he added under his breath.

“Dangerous?” You repeated. The man threatened your loved ones, but why would Marc call him that?

He paused to look at you, his eyes wider than before. “Yeah, but you’re too sweet to get mixed up in any of that, so forget I said anything. Please,” he urged. You wished you could. “He hasn't been poking around your shop, has he?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you said. You hoped not.

“Sorry, I just assumed since you said you met him. Wouldn't surprise me if he stops in soon though with the anniversary coming up and all.”

“Anniversary of what?” You asked.

“His family. They…” He trailed off when the phone rang at the counter. “Sorry. I need to get back to work.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just start my book,” you said, going to take a seat on the other side of the shop. You took your usual spot on the couch and wished you hadn't said anything. Marc knew Bucky enough to say he was dangerous. And why would he eventually poke around your shop? Anniversary… Flowers…

“I wish you could've met my mom. She would've loved you.”

“She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day.”

You settled further into the couch with a huff. Bucky’s family and endeavors were none of your business. You weren't going to question it any further. You were going to sit and enjoy your book.

That was exactly what you did.

A few customers went in and out of the shop as you lost yourself in the story. It was easy to imagine snuggling with the hero as he whispered how much he loved you and always would. The sweet sort of romance that brought a smile to your face and allowed you to relax against the cushions. You were surprised you didn't fall asleep.

What time was it anyway?

“How’s the book?”

A shiver rolled over you as you peered up from the page and saw Bucky standing in front of you. He wore the blue jacket and his eyes stood out just as you said they would. Where you expected to see triumph in his gaze, there was only curiosity and awe. Like he happened to bump into you by accident instead of intentionally.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper shouted, not wanting to draw attention. While it wasn't a complete shock that he managed to find you, it was a miracle your heart hadn't given out from how fast it pounded over the last couple of days. “How did you find me?”

Did he actually follow you?

He smiled a little. “You’re the one who told me to read a book since I was bored,” he said, taking a seat beside you and slipping his arm around you. You tensed as he pulled you close, but he merely rubbed your arm with his gloved hand until you relaxed. “And finding you was just a process of elimination. I know you didn't go back to your place after you left this morning and there aren't too many places you like to venture by yourself in the city.”

“And just how do you know I didn't go back to my apartment?” You asked.

“I may or may not have an eye on the building,” he said casually. It could've been a joke or serious answer, neither of which were a laughing matter. “Or maybe you knew that would be the first place I’d try to look for you, so you decided to avoid it.”

You bit your tongue. That was exactly what you did. “Or maybe I wouldn't be there since I was supposed to go out.”

He nodded. “You were supposed to go out, but your plans fell through, didn't they?” He asked sympathetically. You didn't want his pity. “If I had to guess, they fell through even before we talked this morning.”

“My original plans fell through, yes,” you confirmed.

He hummed. “Were you embarrassed to tell me?”

You wrung your fingers together. There was no reason for you to feel bad for not telling him. You didn't owe him anything because he wasn't your boyfriend. “No,” you whispered.

“Did it just slip your mind when we talked?” He teased. At least he didn't sound upset or disappointed. Why wasn't he upset? Was he testing you?

“No. I just wanted a night off from being…” you trailed off, not sure how he would react in public to something he didn't want to hear. And what was it a night off from exactly? Being his new girlfriend?

He scratched along his chin, drawing attention to the gray hairs. “You know what I think?” He asked.

“I have no idea,” you replied.

“I think you were testing me because you wanted me to find you. You want me more than you want to admit,” he said. Your mouth fell open, but you couldn't speak. “Otherwise, why push me to look for you? Why hang out in one of your favorite shops knowing I could easily track you down?”

“I didn't…” You took a breath. You didn't want him to chase after you. That wasn't it. “I didn't push.”

“Moyo Kotyonok, you dared me with that message and you know it,” he smirked.

Biting your lip, you didn't deny it any further since he was partially right. You egged him on by offering to let him take a photo if he found you, which wasn't smart. If you had real plans, you wouldn't have done that. But you didn't do it because you wanted him to find you or wanted him in general.

You didn't.

“But we can talk about that later,” he said, gentler than you expected. “I’m sorry about your plans. What happened?”

You finally closed the book in your lap and exhaled. “Addison and I were supposed to hang out, but she’s going out to dinner with her fiancé instead,” you explained.

He narrowed his eyes. “So, she ditched you,” he said, disappointment finally seeping into voice.

You shook your head. “No, she didn't ditch me. We rescheduled,” you argued, quick to defend her. She didn't maliciously blow you off. “Things come up. It happens.”

Bucky smiled softly. “You stuck up for her immediately. I admire that,” he said, shifting to face you more. He practically crowded you. “Why not hang out with another friend?”

You looked at your lap. What was he playing at? “Because my friends are busy,” you whispered. It hurt to say it and it shouldn't. It was just a downside of being the single one in a group of friends who had significant others. No one was obligated to keep their schedules open in case you wanted to hang out.

He tilted your head up. Why wouldn't he just let you hide? “Just so you know, I will never be too busy for you,” he whispered. It wasn't fair that he looked at you like you mattered. “You’re my top priority.”

You ignored the warm sensation that spread from your heart. So many people made you an option. “I shouldn't be,” you whispered.

“But you are and that isn't going to change,” he said, steadfast as always. “And since this shop is going to close soon, why not go to the club with me? It'll be fun.”

You gestured to your comfortable outfit. “I’m not dressed for your club. Besides, I was going to call it an early night after I left.”

His eyes roamed your body with interest before he shrugged and took the book from your lap. “I have that dress waiting for you, but you can wear whatever you want since you look beautiful in anything.”

“Are you listening to what I'm saying? I said I want to call it an early night.” You moved to stand, your limbs tired from sitting. “For someone who claims to care, you don't take my feelings into consideration.”

He reached to grab your hand and took it before you could walk away. “I care more than anyone else,” he whispered vehemently before he took a breath, his eyes burning with passion as he stood up, too. “I’m not ignoring your feelings. It’s a compromise. We won't stay long, so come with me.”

“Thank you for the offer,” you began, trying to put out the fire in his eyes. “But why would I want to go to your club when all I want to do is read and relax?”

“Do I need to remind you that some of my friends will be there and they still want to meet you?” He asked, gently guiding you toward the front of the store. “And I can take your right back to your place after so you can rest. You'll still have an early night.”

He considered that a compromise? “But I-”

“You’ll be in bed before 10. You have my word.” He walked you toward the exit, past the remaining customers, and gave the associate behind the counter a smile before you could protest. “And don't worry about the book. I paid for it.”

“Wait, where’s Marc?” You asked. You hadn't spoken to him since your earlier conversation.

The associate looked at Bucky before she smiled. “I think he went out back for a quick break.”

“Before closing?” You asked.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said, heading out the door with you.

He helped you into the car by the curb as you were still catching up to what was happening. He effortlessly coaxed you out of a store with people around and into a car, alone. The man had no fear.

“Where's Ray?” You asked since the partition was up. “Shocked you didn't send him in to get me.”

“He actually offered, but I wanted to go in myself,” Bucky replied, chuckling at your expression. “And don't worry. He's close by.”

You huffed and stared at the garment bag where your dress waited when he put an arm back around you. “I just wanted some peace and quiet tonight.” But he got you right where he wanted you.

“Like I said, you'll meet my friends and you’ll be in bed by 10.” Bucky dragged his nose along your throat and inhaled your scent. Your eyes closed, but your body didn't freeze up the way you expected it to. “We’ll both get what we want.”

What you wanted didn't matter. “Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

You closed your eyes. “Just how dangerous are you?”

“I’m the most dangerous man in the city, but you're safe with me,” he replied against your skin.

“And what if your friends don't like me?” You asked.

“You have nothing to worry about. They’ll love you,” he promised, bringing his head up to kiss your temple. “But no one will ever love you more than I do.”

Love.

You shuddered. You weren't sure what you feared more. That his friends would love you enough to help keep you by his side or how much Bucky claimed to love you. Because there was nothing more dangerous than a powerful man in love.

Which friend do we think is the most excited to see you with Bucky? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lostfracturess]

symptoms and causes | ch. 16

pairing — professor gojo x med student reader

summary — he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart — and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

word count — 11.5 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, substance and alcohol abuse, dark themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency, trauma, medical content and mentions of death, illness, abuse, and blood. full trigger warnings available on the masterlist. reader discretion is advised.

previously — unable to watch satoru turn to his abusive family for help with naoya's massive lawsuit, you're heading to his party against satoru's wishes, hoping to find something, anything, that might help his situation. but what happens when satoru decides to crash the party? and what will you find in that locked room?

author's note — hello lovelies, welcome back !! this chapter picks up right where we left off, but through satoru's eyes this time. also important note: this chapter contains a brief mention of SA concerning a background event not related to any of our main characters. as always, please mind all trigger warnings. and now enjoy the chaos <3

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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I saw her the moment I stepped into that goddamn party, and everything inside me went still. 

Like that moment right before you drown, when the water first fills your lungs and the world goes quiet. Terrifying and so still.

She stood there under those cheap neon lights, looking scared and yet so beautiful—beautiful in that terrible way that makes you want to destroy something, that makes you want to tear it apart just to prove it's real.

Every fiber of my being screamed to go to her, to grab her and get her the hell out of here. Away from this place, away from him, away from all of it. 

But I couldn't move. Couldn't let the mask slip, not here, not with all these eyes on me. So I plastered on that easy smile and played the part of the mildly annoyed professor who just happened to crash a student party.

As if my skin wasn't crawling with the need to use again, veins begging for something—anything—to take the edge off. As if the mere sight of her didn't make me feel like someone had reached into my chest and ripped my fucking heart out, her next breath away from something I might regret.

She looked up at me with those pretty eyes of hers, and I saw the guilt there, swimming just beneath the surface. And for one horrible moment I thought, Good. Let it pull her under like it's pulling me. Let it fill her lungs the way fear is filling mine.

I almost hated her then — for lying to me again and again, for doing stupid things behind my back again and again, for making me feel this goddamn helpless again and again and again and fucking again.

But what lay beneath was worse. Because I knew why she was here. Always trying to save me, even if it meant throwing herself into the deep end, drowning right alongside me. And that's the worst kind of torture, isn't it? 

Watching the person you love cut themselves open on all your broken pieces, bleeding themselves dry, yet still reaching for more. And that thought made me want to scream.

"We'll talk about this later," I said, forcing that easy smile back onto my face though everything inside me was screaming to get her out of this goddamn house before she got herself into more trouble. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need a drink."

I pushed past her, shoulder grazing hers, and I had to clench my fists to keep from turning back. Had to bite my tongue until I tasted blood to keep from saying something I couldn't take back. She had no idea what she did to me. Or maybe she did, and that was even worse.

Love and hate tangled together in my chest until I couldn't breathe. Because that's what she does to me — makes me feel everything at once, until I can't tell what's real anymore. Until I can't tell if I want to love her or ruin her. Until I can't remember which one would hurt more. Who I was before her. If I was anyone at all.

And it hit me then, as I left her standing there, all defiance and reckless stupidity and so unbearably precious it physically hurt—this must be what they mean when they say love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Because I loved her so much it felt like hatred. Hated her so deeply it could only be love.

Always on the razor's edge. One wrong step, and we'd both bleed out. Maybe we already were.

When was the last time I even went to a party like this anyway? Years ago, probably. Back when I could still pretend I had my shit together. Before I understood what it meant to love someone so consuming that self-destruction became a form of worship.

I needed a drink. Maybe ten. Maybe something stronger. 

Bass thundered through the floorboards as I shouldered my way deeper into the house, some shitty pop track slamming in my skull. Or maybe that was just the rage still burning in my bloodstream.

Sweaty bodies pressed in on all sides, but I barely noticed, lost in the chaos raging in my head. Lost in the desperate need scratching at my throat to turn back, to find her, to make sure she hadn't slipped away like every other good thing in my life.

I ordered vodka. First sip burned, but not enough. Never enough to wash away the fear, to forget that she was here, in this house, with him. The same bastard who'd tried to—My grip tightened on the glass. Yeah. Definitely needed something stronger. Here's hoping these kids still remember how to party.

"Professor Gojo! No way!"

A group of my students appeared beside me at the bar, their faces flushed with alcohol. Aoi, of course—that kid was everywhere. And Miwa, looking starstruck as always. Just my fucking luck.

"Is this what you all do instead of studying for my exams?" I asked, letting that easy smile slide into place.

"Come on, Prof, we've been killing ourselves over your damned hard exams," Miwa chimed in, all bright eyes and alcohol courage. "We deserve a break."

I let myself slip into the familiar role. The cool professor. The guy everyone wants to hang with. It was easier than I expected, letting their drunken energy wash over me, cracking jokes, making them laugh. Almost enough to wash out the withdrawal that made it nearly impossible to think straight. Almost enough to forget why I was really here. Almost.

Aoi was rambling about something, but I wasn't listening. Instead, I turned slightly, catching her gaze across the room. She looked at me like she wanted to kill me. Funny, how we wanted the same thing sometimes.

My woman. My stubborn, reckless, absolutely infuriating woman. Even now, with me watching her from across the room, I could see that defiance bright in her eyes. Even now, even here, in defiance of everything I'd asked of her, she stood her ground. 

It was admirable, really. And sometimes, that very defiance made me want to break her. Perhaps only to prove I could. To prove she wasn't in control. Perhaps because I was terrified that I wasn't. That I never was.

It's terrifying how thin that line is.

"See? Fucking legend!" Aoi raised his beer, at something I said, I think. I can't remember. Something clever, probably. Something that fits the role. "To the coolest professor on campus!" 

I raised my glass, I think. I can't remember. And that's when I caught sight of them by the front entrance. Suguru walked up to her, still standing where I'd left her, and cradled her face in his hands, tilting it up to meet his gaze. My god, could he be any more obvious about it?

I knew that look in his eyes. Had seen it countless times before, during all those long hours in the lab when he thought I wasn't paying attention. The way he'd lean in close to check her work, his hand lingering on her shoulder a moment too long. The way his eyes would follow her every move.

My best friend, in love with the love of my life. What a sick fucking joke.

He was examining her face now, probably making sure she was alright, being the good, caring friend he always was. His thumb brushed across her cheek, and something violent stirred in my gut. Because she didn't pull away. Of course she didn't. She never did, not with him.

They looked good together, standing there in the dim light. The brilliant researcher and his gifted student. No addiction between them. No sharp edges that sliced you open if you got too close. And I hated that.

I watched as she placed her hand over his, the gesture unbearably tender. Watched as he smiled down at her, that gentle smile he reserved only for her.

And just for a moment — one single, agonizing moment — I let myself picture a world where I hadn't reached her first. Where she'd chosen him instead. The better man. The one who'd never drag her down into his own personal hell.

The thoughts spiraled darker, louder, until I could barely breathe through the noise. Glass creaked under my grip. I needed a fucking pill. Needed something, anything, to make this stop. To make everything just fucking stop.

"Professor?" Miwa’s voice. "You okay?"

More students crowded the bar, blocking my view of them. One of them—what was his name? Third-year, not a complete idiot—shoved another beer into my hand. I chugged it in one long pull, their chatter fading to background noise.

"Well." That voice. That fucking voice. "Look who decided to crash my party after all."

I turned, meeting Naoya's scarred face with a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. "Zenin. Quite the gathering you've got here."

"Indeed." He signaled the bartender. "I gotta say though, I'm surprised to see you here, Professor. Don't tell me you're playing chaperone tonight?"

His words stripped away any pretense. He knew. Of course he fucking knew why I was really here. Not that I'd been particularly subtle about it.

"Just felt like reliving my youth," I said, taking the drink he offered. Anything to keep my hands busy, to keep myself from finishing what I'd started with his face.

Zenin's smirk widened, the scars pulling his flesh into something even uglier. "Ah yes, the good old days. Back when teachers knew their place and didn't go around screwing their students."

The fake smile slid off my face, the glass creaking in my grip as I pictured how easily his windpipe would crumple under my hands. How satisfying it would be to watch that smirk disappear for good.

"Careful, Zenin. Your face is already fucked up enough as is. Would be a damn shame if something happened to what's left of it."

He laughed, the sound grating on my last nerve like nails on a chalkboard. "Always so protective. But tell me, Professor, does she know the real reason you're here? Does she know about the—"

"Enough," I bit out.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" His eyes flicked across the room, landing on her. The way he looked at her made my vision bleed red around the edges. "She really is something else, isn't she? Too bad I didn't get a chance to get her alone that night—"

My hand lashed out before I could think, fisting in his collar. The fabric bunched in my grip as I hauled him close enough to see my own fury reflected in his eyes. "You fucking—"

Then Suguru was there, his hand slamming down on the bar between us. Silent, steady—a wall between me and a one-way ticket to unemployment. He didn't say a word, just fixed me with that look. The one I'd explicitly asked for earlier. Stop me before I do something I'll regret.

Fuck, I was really starting to regret that request right about now.

Then I felt her—her touch impossibly gentle as she laid her hand on my bicep, the heat of her skin seeping through my shirt. She leaned in close, "Satoru, can we talk for a minute?"

Her soft plea sliced through the haze, and suddenly I became acutely aware of the deafening silence that had fallen over the room, of the countless eyes boring into us.

I uncurled my fingers from Naoya's collar one by one, even though everything in me screamed to finish what I'd started. To paint the walls with whatever was left of his face. But I couldn't. We both knew. So I stepped back and followed her.

─── ·✧· ───

She led me through the crowd, her fingers still wrapped so gently around my arm. We pushed our way past the prying eyes, down a hallway, until she found what looked like an empty office. Probably belonged to Naoya's father, judging by the dark wood and that rich people smell.

For a moment, we just stood there, neither of us willing to shatter the fragile silence. Moonlight sliced through the blinds, turning everything silver and strange, like we were underwater. Maybe we were. I wasn't sure anymore. Her hand slipped from my arm, and suddenly I felt cold.

I collapsed into the chair behind the desk, the leather groaning under my weight. She stood silhouetted at the window, arms wrapped tight around herself, and I had to look away. Had to focus on something else, because I knew one glance at those eyes and I'd break.

My fingers found the pill on their own. Out of habit, really. Without thinking, I snatched up the silver letter opener next to me and crushed the pill beneath it, watching the powder scatter across the polished wood like fresh snow. I bent down and let the burn fill my nose, sear through my brain, numbing everything in an instant. 

When I looked up, she was staring. Always fucking staring, with eyes that flayed me to the bone. And she did it so effortlessly. Saw through everyone around her with that unnerving precision. Or maybe she saw through everything so clearly because she looked for the very things she wanted to hide from others.

"That's new," she said. Not an accusation. I was glad it wasn't.

"It's faster."

I averted my gaze and sank deeper into the chair, letting my head fall back against the headrest as warmth flooded my veins and the ceiling blurred and shifted above me. And then everything went soft around the edges, like looking through frosted glass.

A long exhale escaped my lips. Finally—fucking finally—the constant noise in my head, all that shit I can't shut up—the love, the hate, the fucking terror of it all—it faded to a whisper. The world got a little quieter, a little less sharp. A little more bearable.

For one perfect moment, I could actually breathe. Could almost convince myself I was in control. That this wasn't killing me. That I could walk away if I had to. That I wasn't fucking terrified of losing her. Of becoming him. Of everything.

I groaned, fingers raking through my hair, pulling, needing the pain. My hands were shaking again. Or maybe they never stopped. I couldn't tell anymore.

"You're angry," she said.

"No shit. What gave it away?" I scrubbed my hands over my face. "You showing up here after I specifically fucking told you not to? Or me nearly rearranging Zenin's face again?"

"Satoru—"

"Don't." I squeezed my eyes shut, fingers yanking at my hair again, trembling worse now. From the drugs, the rage, the fear, who the fuck knew. It all bled together these days. "You have no idea what he'd do. If something happened—" I stopped. Couldn’t continue.

"I'm not alone," she said, like that made a difference. "Maki, Yuta, Toge—they're all with me. We're being careful."

"Careful?" I sat upright, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "There's nothing fucking careful about this! It's reckless! You shouldn't even be—"

"I'm doing this for you—"

"Don't." I cut her off. "Don't make this about me."

"But it is!" She stepped closer, eyes blazing. "What, you expect me to just stand by and watch? While you fall apart?"

"This isn't your problem to fix—"

"Like hell it isn't!" Another step. Her eyes seared into mine. "I can't fucking take it anymore. You're in this mess because of me. Because you protected me that night. So don't you dare tell me this isn't my problem to fix."

I stared at her, something in my chest fracturing. "You think that's why I'm doing this? Because I feel obligated?"

"I think you're trying to protect me, like you always do."

"Then don't make me protect you all the goddamn time!" I shoved up from the chair and braced my hands on the desk. "I beat him within an inch of his life that night. I would've killed him if—" My throat closed around the words. "And I'd do it again. In a fucking heartbeat. That's what scares the shit out of me. What I become when it comes to you."

She went still.

"And if he hurt you again," the words scraped out of me, "I—I don't know what I'd do. So please. Just please don't make me find out."

I said the words I'd been turning over in my head for what felt like eternity. Don't make me find out, don't put yourself in danger, don't break my fucking heart. Which really meant break me all you want, just don't leave. I wouldn't survive it.

Her gaze dropped briefly to my hands, and she said, "You done?" 

Her question threw me. Done? God, this infuriating woman. But then I followed her line of sight and saw my hands clenched into white-knuckled fists around the desk’s edge. I slowly released them, my knuckles cracking in the sudden stillness.

I slumped back into the chair, exhausted, defeated, throwing an arm over my eyes. "God, I fucking hate you." The way she stood there, unflinching, unafraid—it made me insane. "I hate that you make me feel like this—so fucking terrified all the time."

"You don't hate me," she said.

"Sometimes I'm not so sure anymore," I answered.

How does it never get easier, I wondered. Loving her. Needing her. It just cuts deeper, spreads further, until I'm drowning in the ache. Until I can't breathe without feeling it in my lungs. And yeah, I hate her for that sometimes.

I couldn't look at her. I knew she'd be there, unyielding, waiting, enduring everything I threw at her, as she always did. Never breaking. Maybe that's what I hated most.

"You're so fucking stupid," I breathed, but it came out wrong. Too soft. Too much like 'I love you'. Too much like 'Please don't leave.' 

"I think that's mutual." She crossed the room then and leaned against the desk, arms folded over her chest. "I'm sorry I lied to you."

I lowered my arm and looked at her. "No, you're not."

"I am sorry for worrying you," she tried again, and I almost believed her, wishing desperately that she'd never have to worry about anything the way I worry about her. "Go ahead, say it. Tell me how stupid I was to come here. I know you're dying to."

"Why would you think that?"

She kept her eyes fixed on the floor. "Because it's true. I make the wrong choice every fucking time."

I watched her, this brilliant, stubborn woman that I love so much, beating herself up over choices that weren't really choices at all—just impossible situations with no right answers. Like there was ever a right answer. And sometimes she reminded me so much of myself. As if I hadn't spent years doing the same thing, and probably still do.

But seeing her do it—it was like staring into a mirror and seeing not just my reflection, but the reflection of everything I hated about myself.

"I think that's mutual," I echoed her words back to her.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed up from the chair, gripping the edge of the desk for a second. Then I reached for her, hands landing on her hips, tugging her close, needing her close. My lips ghosted over hers. Hesitant. Unsure. When she didn't pull away, I kissed her. My hand came up to cradle her face, thumb skimming her cheekbone as I deepened the kiss.

"Alright, what's the plan?" I murmured against her mouth.

She told me about the locked room upstairs and her plan to get it. So calm. She told it so calm. Like it was that simple. Like this wasn't the most insane thing I'd ever heard. But I knew she'd go through with it no matter what I said.

"You seriously think I'm gonna let you anywhere near him with alcohol involved?"

"No," she said. "I think you're going to help me."

"Times like this, I'm really feeling that age difference between us," I said, but we both heard the resignation in my voice. The moment I'd already lost this fight.

"So you'll help?" she asked, ignoring my comment.

Before she could celebrate her victory, I yanked her closer, fingers twisting in her hair. With a sharp tug, I forced her head back until she had no choice but to meet my gaze, her throat bared. Our eyes locked, and I saw the instant her breath hitched.

"On one condition."

"What's that?"

"When we get home, you're gonna make it up to me for all the stress you've caused. Got it?"

"Is that really how you want to play this?"

"Oh, love, I think we're way past propriety at this point."

A shiver ran through her — one that made me almost smile. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips, could feel the way she melted into me despite herself. It almost made this whole mess worth it.

"Now then." I pulled back just far enough to look her in the eye. "let's have some fun, shall we?"

─── ·✧· ───

So, here's the fun story about how I ended up playing beer pong with my arch-nemesis (besides Sukuna, that is) against my future lovely wife and some chemistry nerd who wouldn't shut up about covalent bonds. Not exactly the Saturday night I had in mind.

I mean, here I was, standing next to Naoya — yeah, the same guy whose face I'd rearranged a few months back — trying to aim at red plastic cups while you were absolutely wiping the floor with us. Turns out that whole '10 years of grief training in alcoholism over your dead father' wasn't just a cute phrase you threw around. Who would've thought?

But really, trying to out-drink an opioid addict? That's like challenging a fish to a swimming contest. Except the fish is in heavy withdrawal. So like, with no fin. Not my finest analogy. I blame the alcohol. What was my point again?

Anyway. Most annoying part? This chemistry department kid with these wide, bright eyes wouldn't stop talking to you about molecular structures. And you were actually entertaining him. At a party. About electron transfers. Of all the insufferable things.

"So if you consider the aromatic compounds—" he was saying, and I swear on my medical license, I didn't mean for the ball to hit him. And I definitely didn't mean for it to hit him that hard. Pure accident, really. 

The ball bounced off his shoulder, effectively shutting him up. They both turned to look at me. "Molecular restructuring in organic compounds? Really?" I shrugged. "At a party?"

She shot me that look. You know the one. The classic 'I-can't-believe-I'm-sleeping-with-this-idiot' glare. It's become quite familiar these days.

"Trouble in paradise?" Naoya said beside me, and I briefly considered rearranging his face again. For symmetry's sake, of course.

But then she bent over to pick up the ball, and suddenly organic chemistry was the furthest thing from my mind. I definitely shouldn't have let her leave the house in that skirt. Though knowing her, she probably wore it just to torture me. 

"Getting distracted, Professor?" she said, straightening up with that little smile that never fails to make me want to do wildly inappropriate things to her in very public places. She leaned across the table, deliberately tapping one of our cups with her finger, giving me her most innocent eyes. Because apparently, driving me insane was her new favorite pastime.

"Me?" I lifted the red cup she'd tapped to my lips, taking my sweet time with the drink, my eyes never leaving hers. "Never."

And somewhere in the haze of beer and the way she was looking at me, I tried to remember why the hell we were even here. Oh right—something about stealing keys. Real professional operation we've got going here. The medical board would be so proud. Their star surgeon, reduced to playing beer pong as a distraction tactic. 

Naoya's keys were right there on the table, practically screaming to be grabbed. But between her legs in that skirt and the way she kept biting her lip every time she lined up a shot, I found myself giving fewer and fewer shits about saving my career and more about how quickly I could get her alone. Priorities. I clearly had them. Alcohol might have scrambled them a bit, I guess.

I caught a glimpse of Suguru standing off to the side of the beer pong table. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes darting back and forth between me and her like he was watching the world's most stressful tennis match. I really owed him one for putting up with this shit.

Near the chemistry kid, a girl approached who looked a bit like Higurama's intern—though I wasn't entirely sure. She looked different, wearing makeup and dressed up. But that couldn't be her. She'd avoid places with flashing lights because of her epilepsy. I must be seeing things.

Then Naoya, because clearly this shitshow wasn't enough of a disaster already, decided to "level up the process." He snapped his fingers at a passing bartender, and before I could process what the fuck was happening, there was a tray of perfectly lined up tequila shots on the table. Complete with cinnamon and orange slices, because apparently, we're keeping it classy while trying to get my future wife drunk.

"New rule," Naoya announced, his scarred face pulling into what I can only assume was meant to be a grin. "Next shot I sink, you drink both. Beer and tequila."

I glanced over at her, my gut churning. Not from the alcohol—it'd take a hell of a lot more than this to get me there—but from the way she met Naoya's challenge with a nod. That stubborn tilt of her chin that always meant trouble. My palms started to sweat.

Of course, Naoya's ball dropped perfectly into her cup. Because the universe really does have a sick sense of humor.

Watching her reach for both drinks, I found myself wondering what the medical board would be more pissed about — me playing drinking games with students, screwing one of my students, or the fact that I was seriously considering murder. Again.

Then, by some physics-defying miracle or sheer dumb luck, the chemistry kid actually landed a shot. He looked as shocked as the rest of us when the ball plopped into Naoya's cup. But it was her next shot that really got my attention — perfect arc, clean landing, like she'd been doing this her whole damn life.

"Drink up, Professor," she said, but there was something different in her voice.

She reached for the tequila, and then—fuck me—propped one leg up on a nearby beer crate, the motion making her skirt ride up just enough to flash a strip of skin above her tights. Wait. Those weren't tights. Those were fucking stockings.

My brain short-circuited as I realized she'd been walking around all night in stockings. Actual stockings, with what I knew had to be a garter belt hidden under that criminally short skirt. The same spot where she was now deliberately sprinkling cinnamon.

The sight of that exposed sliver of skin between stocking and skirt made my blood boil. When the hell had she even bought those? Had she worn them just for tonight, knowing they'd make me lose my goddamn mind? Was she trying to get herself killed?

Because right now, watching her purposely dust cinnamon on that band of exposed skin, I wasn't sure if I wanted to murder her or fuck her. Probably both. My mouth went dry, and it had fuck-all to do with the alcohol.

"Well?" She tilted her head, all innocence except for that knowing look in her eyes. "Coming to get your tequila?" 

Like she had to ask twice. Yet I hesitated. With all these people watching? What was she playing at? It was reckless, careless, like she was deliberately trying to expose us. It was power play, a challenge. And I knew, that she knew, that I couldn't resist.

A slow smile spread across my face as I sank to one knee before her, the crowd fading into a blur of noise. All that mattered was her—the way her breath hitched as I gripped her calf, the way she tensed as she realized that I made a whole show for her (poor girl didn’t expect that now, did she?)—the feel of her skin on my tongue.

I took my sweet time with the cinnamon, letting my tongue glide over the exposed strip of flesh, feeling her shiver. My teeth grazed her skin, just enough to draw a soft gasp from her lips. If she wanted a show, I'd give her a show. And part of me wanted to shove that skirt higher, to chase that taste of salt and cinnamon further up her thigh until—

Focus. Fucking focus.

I straightened, stepping into her space. She held an orange slice in one hand, the shot glass in the other, and I couldn't help but notice how her pupils had blown wide, how her chest rose and fell just a little faster than normal.

I plucked the orange from her fingers with my teeth, my lips brushing her skin, then took the shot glass, using the movement to press closer, my mouth right by her ear, "What exactly is your plan here?"

"Create distraction," she breathed back.

God help me, but it was working. I was definitely distracted. Whole damn crowd was distracted. And watching her play this game—watching her play me—was probably the hottest and most infuriating thing I'd ever experienced. And I'm pretty sure everyone could see I was hard too.

"You're distracting the wrong audience," I whispered before knocking back the shot.

In the midst of trying to control my homicidal urges over those goddamn stockings, she caught my eye and subtly jerked her head. I turned, making it look like I was just checking something, and spotted them—Zenin, Okkotsu, and Inumaki hovering on the other side of the table behind Naoya, waiting for their chance. 

Right. The keys. The whole reason we were here. I almost forgot.

The game continued, the tension building with each shot. We were down to the last round — winner takes all. That's when she decided to really test my patience.

"Let's make this more interesting," she announced, her voice carrying over the crowd. "Losers jump in the pool." A pause, then because apparently she was hell-bent on giving me a coronary. "No clothes."

"You wouldn’t dare," Naoya scoffed.

"Try me," she replied. 

I shot her a warning look. She subtly chewed on her bottom lip, meeting my gaze with an unnerving calm, perhaps her way of saying everything's gonna be okay. It did little to ease the knot in my stomach.

One shot left. If she made this, Naoya and I would be stripping down for a midnight dip. If she missed—

I tried not to think about her in that pool. Tried not to think about those stockings getting soaked. Tried not to think about murdering every sorry bastard who might lay eyes on her. Either way, this woman was going to be the death of me. If I didn't kill her first.

Naoya landed his shot, fucking prick. I missed mine for obvious reasons. Chemistry kid missed too, leaving everything on her shoulders. The ball left her hand, arcing through the air in what felt like slow motion. It circled the rim, then rolled away.

The crowd went wild. Naoya's victory smirk made me want to punch his face in. I glanced over at her, wondering for a second if she'd missed on purpose. But there was no time for that.

"Well?" Naoya's voice. "I believe the losers owe us a show."

"The game wasn't exactly fair—" I started, but she cut me off.

"Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, Naoya?" She turned to him, her words sharp. "To see me undress without having to drug me first?"

The crowd went dead silent. Naoya's scarred face contorted into something ugly. "Watch your mouth, little girl. You're not as untouchable as you think."

"And you're pathetic," she spat back, then turned away from him. "At least I get to choose when I undress, right?”

She started walking toward the pool, each step deliberate, commanding. I followed, caught between pride and sheer terror at what she was about to do. At the edge, she turned back to me.

"Don't," I pleaded, but she was already reaching for the hem of her skirt. It fell, revealing the dark lace of her stockings. Then her top followed, and I stepped closer, trying to shield her from the leering eyes.

"This is insane." But my protest died as she stood there in only black lace, and then I saw them—the bruises from the fire still painted across her waist and ribs. Dark purple and yellow marks that hadn't yet faded, cruel reminder of how close I'd come to losing her.

The sight sobered me instantly. Something twisted in my chest, sharp and painful. The bruises I'd carefully tended to, the ones that still made her wince when I changed her bandages—on full display for this crowd of drunk idiots, turned into a spectacle.

"Please," I begged, my voice barely audible. "Don't do this."

She met my gaze, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I’d reached her. But then that smile—the one that sealed my fate—touched her lips. "Sorry, Professor," she whispered, and then she was gone, falling backward into the pool, taking a piece of me with her.

The splash echoed in my ears like a gunshot, and I was already shrugging off my jacket, ready to either dive in after her or use it to cover her when she surfaced. A cold, hard fury settled in my gut. Naoya was going to pay for this.

The crowd roared as she surfaced, her hair plastered to her face, water tracing the curves of her body beneath the soaked lace. Our eyes met across the distance, me standing at the pool's edge, and I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment. Something flickered across her face—regret maybe, or shame—before she looked away.

Hell broke loose. Bodies crashed into the water, sending waves across the pool. Even Naoya stripped off his shirt and dove in, reveling in the attention. The whole party seemed to shift to the pool in a matter of seconds — clothes flying, drinks splashing, the pristine water turning into a churning mess. 

Perfect distraction.

But I barely registered any of it, my world had narrowed to her. I watched as she climbed out, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the concrete, practically sprinting past me, her gaze fixed on the floor, while water dripped from her hair, her skin, the dark lace clinging to her form.

Behind her, the pool had turned into chaos — exactly what she'd planned, I realized. 

I gathered her clothes from where they'd fallen and followed her inside. I caught a glimpse of Okkotsu's quick movements near the discarded clothes by the pool. 

Well played.

─── ·✧· ───

Her dripping form drew curious eyes as we moved through the foyer. Each step felt like a penance—hers for the recklessness, mine for letting it happen. Heads turned, conversations died, the sudden silence punctuated only by the soft drip, drip, drip of water from her hair.

Kento’s face flashed past, but I barely registered him. No doubt he'd give me shit about it at the university later, like he didn't already know something was up with me and her.

I wrapped my jacket around her shivering shoulders, fighting the desperate urge to reach for the opioids hidden in my pocket. Withdrawal, guilt, and fury burned together in my veins, making me want to crawl out of my own skin. 

I stepped in front of her, partly to block all those eyes on her, partly to hide how bad my hands were shaking. None of it was worth it. Not the keys, not avoiding my parents, none of it. How did we end up here? How did I allow things to get to this point?

Upstairs, she dressed quickly, water still dripping from her hair, leaving damp patches on her clothes.

"Are you cold?" 

"I'm okay," she said, avoiding my gaze. 

She was shaking. I could see the goosebumps on her arms. "You're shivering," I said and reached for her, but she pulled away.

“I’m fine, really.”

Despite her words, I pulled her close. She didn't resist this time, tilting her face up to mine. Her eyes were bright, and for a second, I thought she might cry. The world could have been watching, for all I cared. If those tears fell, it would be my undoing.

And then I thought of everything she'd done, everything she'd had to do—for me. My twenty-four-year-old student, forced to protect me from my own damn parents, to beg for my own money. Because I’d hit a guy who tried to hurt her. Why was it all so fucked up?

The high was long gone, leaving this gaping hole. My limbs felt heavy, detached, like they belonged to a stranger, unable to reach out and fix what I’d broken. And we were so far from where we started.

"You're disappointed," she finally said. She wasn't asking.

"We should leave." Because I couldn't bear to watch her sacrifice one more piece of herself for me.

"You can leave."

Before I could say anything back, Zenin came bursting into our corner, Okkotsu and Inumaki right behind her, her eyes all lit up. "That was fucking insane!" she yelled, waving something around—Naoya's keys. "But it worked! I can't believe it actually—" She stopped short, finally noticing the tension between us.

The win felt empty. Yeah, we got what we came for. But what did it cost? Looking at her, still shivering a little in my jacket, I wasn't so sure it was worth it. I was supposed to protect her. Instead, I just kept watching her throw herself in the fire for me. 

Some professor I was. Some man I was.

Strange how winning can feel so much like losing, especially when you realize you're not the one paying the price.

─── ·✧· ───

I stayed outside Naoya's room, playing lookout. At least that's what I told them. Truth was, I couldn't stand being in there, couldn't bear being near her, watching her fight my battles while I was barely holding myself together.

The itch under my skin had spread, making my whole body crawl with invisible insects while she did the dirty work. Even after everything, she was still trying to save me. 

And I was still letting her.

I slid down the wall, my head hitting the floor. How did we end up here? What the fuck were we doing? What the fuck was I doing?

I'm thirty-five years old, for fuck's sake. Why was I acting like a goddamn teenager? I should've stopped her, shouldn't have let her leave the house to begin with, should've been the adult. But instead, I let it happen, standing by and watching where it led. Again.

This whole situation was insane. We were in too deep, and I knew it. But I couldn't seem to find my way out, couldn't seem to stop this trainwreck we were on. It was like I was watching it all happen from outside my own body, powerless to change course.

What kind of man was I? What kind of professor? I was supposed to be her mentor, her… something more. Instead, I was dragging her down with me.

I thought back to that night, the one that started it all. The night I found her in the lab, working late, hunched over her microscope. She looked up at me with those eyes, those damn eyes that seemed to see right through me. And I was lost. I knew it was wrong. I knew I should have walked away. But I didn't. I couldn't. Drawn in. Consumed.

And now, here we were. Trapped in this fucked-up situation of our own making. I wanted to blame her, to say it was all her fault for being so reckless, so damn stubborn. But I knew that wasn't true. I let this happen. I didn’t stop it. But why? 

I could replay the events in my mind, frame by frame, but the crucial moment, the point where I should have intervened, remained a blur. It was as if some part of me had wanted to see where this ended.

Music still drifted up from downstairs, the bass thumping through the walls. It felt wrong, out of place. Like we were in a different world, a fucked-up one, while everyone else was living their normal, happy lives.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it all out, trying to pretend, just for a moment, that this wasn't happening. That we weren't here. That everything was okay. But it was happening. And I was in it, and I knew I couldn't hold my breath much longer.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Kept seeing things in the corners of my vision. Shadows that shouldn't move but did, faces that weren't faces at all. The wallpaper breathed. In and out. In and out. Like a lung.

Stop it. Just stop all of it. Make it stop. But it won't stop, can't stop, because she's in there right now, digging through his things, trying to save me save me save me why won't she just stop trying to save me?

Everything felt wrong, sick, twisted. Too bright and too dark all at once. My skin didn't fit right anymore. Nothing fit right anymore. God, I needed a goddamn fix.

A cough. I pressed my hand against my mouth. When I pulled it away, my palm was red. 

Huh. That's new. 

I stared at the blood, watching it pool in the lines of my hand. It looked wrong somehow, too dark, too thick. The longer I stared, the more it seemed to move strangely, crawling along the creases of my palm.

Was blood supposed to move like that? Like it was alive? Like it was trying to tell me something? I couldn't remember anymore. I couldn't remember a lot of things lately. The blood kept moving, kept spreading. 

Maybe this was it—maybe I was finally losing whatever scraps of sanity I had left, sitting here on a dirty floor watching my own blood drip down my palm.

A part of me wondered if he'd been right all along, that I was becoming him, the very thing I’d always feared. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be better, different. Not this—huddled on a filthy floor at a college party, watching my blood move as if in psychosis, while she risked everything for me. Again. 

The door handle turned. Shit. I wiped my palm against the dark carpet, smearing the blood into the fibers where it vanished like it was never there. I scrambled to my feet just as they emerged. She moved quickly, shoving something beneath the waistband of her skirt. Before I could speak, she grabbed my arm.

"Let's leave." There was something like panic in her voice. "I'll tell you outside."

I gripped her hand, my own pulse quickening, and we went downstairs and pushed through the mass of drunk students. But then the music cut abruptly, plunging us into a moment of strange silence before panicked voices filled the void. 

"What the hell—?" Okkotsu’s shout cut through the din from behind us.

Then I saw the flashing lights—red and blue strobing through the windows. Fuck. 

"Cops!" Someone shouted, and the whole house erupted into chaos as people scrambled in every direction.

"Everyone freeze!" A voice boomed through the foyer. "Nobody moves!"

We reached the entrance as two officers shouldered their way through the front door. The bigger one looked like he benched trucks for fun, taking up almost the entire doorframe as he planted himself there.

"Listen up!" he bellowed, one meaty hand resting on his belt. "Party's over. Nobody leaves until we check IDs."

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

I felt her tense beside me, those things hidden in her waistband might as well have been burning her skin. I could practically feel her panic.

"Look, officers." I stepped forward, forcing my voice into something professional. "There seems to be some confusion—"

"No confusion here," Truck-Bencher cut me off, the scar on his lip twisting as he frowned. "Got noise complaints, reports of underage drinking. Everyone stays put."

"I'm faculty at the university. These are my students and they're all over twenty-one. You're wasting everyone's time—"

"Nobody leaves until we say so."

"You really want to process IDs for over two hundred students?"

"You telling me how to do my job?" He shifted closer, chest puffed out despite me having two inches on him.

Withdrawal crawled beneath my skin like insects, each bite feeding the rage that built vertebra by vertebra up my spine. "Depends. Are you actually doing it, or just power tripping?"

"Back the fuck up." His hand dropped to his belt. "Last chance."

I felt her fingers digging into my arm, trying to pull me back. But the rage was a living thing now, burning away anything resembling sense or restraint. "Or what?"

The punch came fast. I dropped, and heard the sickening crack of bone against flesh—not mine. Some poor student next to me. For a heartbeat, everything stopped. Then chaos.

Bodies everywhere. Screaming. Shoving. Radio static cutting through the roar. Her hand in mine as we pushed through the surge. Her friends somewhere behind. Everything blurred. I can't remember when she let go of my hand.

I just remember the scream. Different from the others. Then her voice, "Get her on the ground!" I shoved through the mass of bodies. Saw the girl on the floor. Ice flooded my veins.

I knew that face. Higurama's intern. My patient. My responsibility.

I dropped beside her, my hands shaking so violently I could barely feel them. Her eyes rolled back. Withdrawal made everything too sharp, too bright. I couldn't think. Couldn't—

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. It was her voice. Fingers gripped my arm. "Satoru, look at me." I met her eyes. Steady. Unnerving. "Focus."

Everything snapped back into place. My phone was in my hand before I realized I'd moved. "This is Dr. Gojo from Jujutsu Medical. Twenty-six-year-old female, epileptic, pre-seizure presentation. We need immediate assistance."

My voice was mechanical, professional. Inside, my mind screamed. Why was she here? Had she been drinking? Were her meds interacting with something? I should know this. Should be better than this. Should be fucking better. 

Nausea rose in my throat and I'd never felt more like a failure in my entire fucking life.

Behind us, the fight continued to rage. A man’s voice bellowed, trying to restore order. Then Suguru was there, kneeling beside her, his hands gentle as he cradled her head. He murmured something, soft and low. The tenderness in his movements caught me off guard. 

"The ambulance is taking too long." His voice cut through everything. Before I could process it, he had her in his arms, head protected against his chest and moved.

─── ·✧· ───

I can't remember how we got to the hospital.

Everything blurred into fragments. Flashing lights, squealing tires, the weight of everything crushing my chest. Each breath scraped like broken glass. My hands wouldn't stop shaking until I swallowed three pills. Maybe four. I lost count.

The fluorescent lights overhead were too bright, too harsh, making my skull feel like it was splitting open. I wanted to crack my head against the wall.

Some part of me was still moving, still speaking in that detached doctor voice — rattling off medical history, medications, possible interactions. Years of training overriding the screaming in my head. But they never trained us for this.

Never trained us for how guilt tastes like acid in your throat while watching your mistakes breathe shallowly on starched white sheets.

They taught us to make clean incisions, to suture arteries, to restart hearts. But not how your own heart would seize when you recognize the face on the floor. Not how your girlfriend’s hands would be steadier than your own worthless trembling ones as you fumbled for your phone, your throat closing around the words "this is my fault", "please" and "I'm sorry."

Didn’t prepare us for withdrawal turning your hands into treacherous strangers while someone seized at your feet. For the shame that festers in your gut as you come down, struggling to remember basic fucking dosages through the need scorching through your veins.

They never warned us how love would carve you open worse than any scalpel, making you both butcher and victim, instrument and incision. Never warned us about loving someone while you’re falling apart. How it feels like drowning in open air, your chest cracked wide and your beating heart wrenched out into daylight, desperate and terrified and somehow still pumping, still fighting, still so fucking afraid.

Higurama's intern lay still now, the steady drip of the IV marking time like a metronome in the silence. I watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, my mind replaying the medications, the dosages, searching for the mistake I must have made. There had to be one. There was always one.

Perhaps he was right about me after all. Funny how even now, even here, I could still hear his voice so clearly.

"You okay?"

She sat across from me, swallowed by my spare clothes—an old t-shirt and sweatpants that draped loosely on her frame, a blanket draped over her legs. Anything was better than those clothes from before, those fucking stockings I'd personally thrown in the trash.

"Satoru?" she tried again. "You okay?"

I couldn't bring myself to answer.

"Talk me through her meds again," she said, resting her head in her palm. Her eyes, piercing and unwavering, never left my face as she waited.

I rubbed my temples, trying to focus through the exhaustion. "Standard anticonvulsants. Levetiracetam, 500mg twice daily. Added phenytoin after the first seizure." I fell back into my chair, scrubbing my hand over my face. "She couldn't tolerate the Levetiracetam, so I switched to Topiramate, 500mg thrice daily."

She was quiet for a moment. "Side effects?"

"Minor. Tremor in her extremities sometimes, but nothing she couldn't handle. It was working." I paused. "It was supposed to be working."

"EEG results?"

"Showed mild abnormalities. Nothing that would explain a seizure this severe." I scrubbed at my face again, harder this time. "I should have seen it. Should have caught something."

"Satoru." Her voice held that gentle firmness I knew so well. "You did everything right."

"Then why did she seize?" I stood abruptly, the chair screeching against linoleum. I turned away, unable to bear her gentle gaze. Outside, dawn was breaking in shades of grey. No color, no warmth, just an endless stretch of concrete and clouded sky bleeding into each other. "If I did everything right, why is she lying here?"

"Because sometimes that's just how it goes. You know this better than anyone," she said. "Medicine isn't perfect. Neither are we."

My reflection stared back at me, ghostly and distorted in the glass. Dark circles, stubble, hair a fucking mess. A doctor coming down from a high while his patient lay in a hospital bed.

"I should have increased the dosage earlier. Run more tests. I should have—"

"Seen the future?"

"I should have been better."

"You are already the best," she said, but it felt like a lie to me. "But even the best can't control everything."

Higurama's intern stirred slightly in her sleep, and we both fell silent, the moment stretching taut between us. I dragged myself back to the chair, sinking down with my face in my hands.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she whispered, leaning forward to brush a stray strand of hair from the girl's forehead. "Sometimes life just happens, and all we can do is be there to pick up the pieces."

I wanted to believe her. God, how I wanted to. But the truth sat like stones in my stomach.

"I hate this," I whispered.

"I know."

Silence.

"Do you blame yourself?" she asked quietly.

"How can I not?"

Because it's stupid, you know this. I could feel them in my bones, the words forming on her lips before she could speak them. "How did that ever change anything?" I said before she could start.

She leaned back, the chair creaking slightly. "Do you think we are terrible people?" she asked, her voice so soft I almost missed it.

I turned to look at her then, really look at her. Even exhausted and worried, wearing my old clothes, she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Like a drug I couldn't quit, a high I'd chase until it killed me. 

And what did that say about either of us? That I wanted to crack her open, crawl inside her skin and nestle myself in her marrow? Wanted to consume her, devour her, until there was nothing left but the two of us, fused together in the most depraved way possible?

It was as if we were always meant to find each other. But it was a penance, for both of us.

"I think I am what I am because of you," I finally said.

And it was the truth. She'd molded me, shaped me, just as I'd shaped her. We'd ruined each other for anyone else, stripped away the innocence and left only the filth and grit behind.

Her hand fell from her face, her eyes meeting mine. "And I am what I am because of you."

"Does that scare you?"

"I think one gets used to it."

"Yeah," I said finally, my voice rough. "I guess you do get used to it. Until you don't."

She frowned, but before she could voice something, Suguru stepped inside. 

He said we should leave, and maybe that was for the better anyway, though I couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was an edge to his voice. Anger, perhaps. But I couldn't blame him. Not really.

I grabbed her things, my hand finding its familiar place at the small of her back as we headed for the door. Suguru's voice followed us down the corridor. "What did you find in Zenin's room anyway?" he asked, as if it were something to be discussed in the doorway.

I walked ahead.

I didn't need to hear again about the unconscious women on the Polaroids. 

─── ·✧· ───

Too quiet.

He was never this quiet.

"How bad is it?" I asked, perched on the edge of the exam bed where the paper sheet betrayed every nervous shift of my weight with stupid crinkles. Pale morning light filtered through the blinds, casting thin stripes across the linoleum floor.

I'd coughed up blood again earlier this morning. More than last night. The metallic taste had filled my mouth before I even opened my eyes. I'd stumbled to the bathroom, careful not to wake her—she needed the rest after we spent the whole damn night at the police station.

I stared at the red running down the drain. Way more than there should be. I'd blamed it on stress and alcohol last time. But now? It meant my liver was probably failing faster than I'd thought. Coagulation system breaking down, blood vessels becoming fragile. Textbook end-stage.

I called him then. He was still at the hospital, had slept there while looking after Higurama's intern. His face had gone pale when he saw me walk in. Guess I looked as bad as I felt.

We ran tests. All of them. Blood work, chest X-rays, the works. And now here we are. I watched him reading what I assumed was my death sentence, waiting for him to finally look up, while the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds.

But he kept his eyes fixed on the test results, holding himself with the careful rigidity of someone handling explosives. Another bad sign.

"Suguru."

He exhaled slowly, finally meeting my gaze with eyes that said everything before his mouth could form the words. "You should have started treatment sooner. We talked about this months ago."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I tried to wave off his concern. "What do the results say?"

His fingers tightened on the papers until the corners creased. "Your liver enzymes are through the roof. AST over 1000, ALT even higher. Bilirubin's climbing while albumin's dropping. Your PT/INR values—" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Your liver is failing, Satoru. Not just damaged anymore—failing."

I let the clinical terms wash over me. The doctor in me understood the implications perfectly. The addict in me wanted to laugh at the irony.

"Well," I said, forcing lightness into my tone, "guess I should have listened to you sooner, huh?"

Suguru's expression hardened. "This isn't a joke. Without immediate intervention—" He caught himself, but I could read the rest in his eyes as clearly as any lab report.

Without immediate intervention, I was dying. Fitting, really. That my body would choose to betray me just when I'd finally found something worth living for.

"How's the withdrawal going?" Suguru asked, setting down the test results.

"Managing." I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ignore how even that simple movement felt like too much effort. "Reduced the hydromorphone gradually. Down to about 5mg now."

"Satoru." His voice carried that familiar note of frustration, the one I'd heard a thousand times before. "You need to stop completely. Not reduce—stop. Your liver can't handle any more strain."

"I'm trying," I snapped, then immediately regretted the harshness. "Sorry. I know you're trying to help."

Suguru pulled up a chair, sitting down with a heavy sigh. "We need to start treatment immediately. The protocol won't be pleasant—high-dose corticosteroids, immunosuppressants, possibly plasmapheresis if things get worse."

"Sounds fun."

"It'll be brutal," he continued, ignoring my sarcasm. "The side effects alone—you'll need to be monitored constantly. Multiple blood draws daily, frequent imaging. And absolutely no narcotics—your liver won't survive it."

I absorbed this, the clinical reality of what lay ahead settling into my bones. "So basically, I get to feel like shit while you stick me with needles and watch me suffer."

"That's about right. But it's either that or start planning your funeral."

"At least you're honest." I attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow morning. I'll admit you tonight, get you set up in a private room," Suguru said, already reaching for admission forms.

"Monday morning."

He looked up sharply. "What?"

"I have a family dinner on Sunday," I shrugged. "Can't skip it."

"Are you insane?" Suguru's voice rose to fill the small room. "Your liver is failing, Satoru. This isn't something you can postpone for a damn dinner party."

"Monday morning," I repeated firmly. "I gave my word I'd be there."

"Your word won't mean much if you're dead."

"I can manage two more days."

"No, you can't." Suguru slammed the test results down with enough force to make me flinch. Since when is he always so fucking tense? "Your numbers are critical. Every hour we delay treatment increases the risk of complete liver failure."

"Monday."

"For fuck's sake, Satoru—"

"I said Monday. I need to do this, Suguru. Please."

He stared at me for a long moment, jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding. Finally, his shoulders slumped.

"Fine. Monday morning, first thing. But if you show any signs of deterioration—any at all—I'm admitting you immediately. And no alcohol at that dinner. Not a single drop."

"Deal."

"I mean it, Satoru."

"I know," I said, trying to inject some levity into the heavy atmosphere. "You can do all sorts of things to me on Monday. Not like I have much on my schedule anyway."

"So Yaga has exempted you?"

"Temporarily relieved of my teaching duties until further notice." I tried to keep my voice light, but the words still choked me. "Apparently, licking your student's leg in public view isn't considered acceptable behavior. Who knew?"

"Everyone would have known that."

"Most people were too drunk to remember anyway, or too busy dealing with the police raid afterwards to care." I shrugged. "Silver lining?"

"This isn't funny. Do you have any idea how serious this is? Your career—"

"My career?" I almost laughed. "In case you missed the memo, my liver's failing. I think my career concerns just got bumped down the priority list."

Suguru fell silent.

"Besides," I added, "maybe it's for the best. Can't exactly teach while going through treatment, can I?"

"Yaga doesn't know about your condition?"

"No, and he's not going to. As far as he's concerned, I'm just taking some time to... reassess my professional boundaries."

"And when he asks why you're not fighting this?"

I sighed. "Let him think what he wants. I've got bigger problems right now."

"Like a family dinner you're insisting on attending despite being on death's door?"

"Exactly." I flashed him a grin, this one a little more genuine despite everything. "See? You're getting it."

"You're impossible."

"That's why you love me."

"That's why I'm going to enjoy sticking you with needles on Monday."

"Kinky."

His expression sobered, eyes searching my face. "You should tell her."

The mere mention of her sent a knife twisting in my gut. "No."

"Satoru—"

"I said no. She has enough to deal with right now. This stays between us."

Suguru shook his head but didn't argue further. He knew me too well to waste his breath.

"I will," I added softly, more to convince myself than him. "When I'm a bit better."

"This will kill her."

"I know."

Silence.

"I'm sorry," I finally managed. "For being an asshole. For everything. And... thanks for coming to the party with me."

"You already apologized."

"I mean it." I met his gaze. "You've always been there, even when I didn't deserve it."

Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of the friendship we'd shared before everything got so complicated. Before I'd dragged us both into this mess.

"Just don't die on me," he said. "I've invested too much time in keeping your stupid ass alive."

I pushed off the bed, steadying myself against the sudden dizziness that threatened to knock me over. "See you Monday."

"You're a stubborn idiot," he called after me. I didn't disagree. 

I stopped at the door, turning back. "Hey, what's going on between you and Higurama's intern anyway?"

Suguru stiffened slightly. "Nothing. Just concerned since she's my patient now too."

I studied him, noting the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze shifted slightly left—his tell when he wasn't being entirely truthful.

"Sure," I said, too exhausted to push it further. "See you Monday."

As I walked away, I wondered if he knew how obvious he was. Then again, who was I to judge? I was hardly an expert at handling matters of the heart.

─── ·✧· ───

I paused outside our apartment door, my hand trembling on the handle. Withdrawal clawed through me, a living thing twisting my gut. Each breath was a struggle, my lungs constricting as if they'd forgotten their purpose. Just breathe, idiot. In, out. You're almost there.

Relief flooded through me the moment I opened the door. Her shoes were there, neatly arranged next to my scattered ones. Her coat on the hook. She was home.

Strange how that simple fact could lift the weight crushing my chest, made breathing a fraction less painful. No matter how bad things were, coming home to her felt like breaking the surface after being underwater too long.

Dog bounded up to greet me, tail whipping back and forth, before darting off toward the bedroom. Smart boy knew exactly where to find her. I kicked off my shoes, let my jacket fall where it would, and followed.

She was there, sprawled across our bed in a sea of papers, bathed in the warm light of the bedside lamp. The sight of her stole what little breath I had left. Hair messily pulled back, drowning in one of my old t-shirts, completely lost in whatever she was reading. Beautiful. It was a beauty that made my heart ache.

Without a word, I crawled onto the bed, dragging myself up until I could rest my head on her stomach. I paused, remembering the bruises on her midsection. But before I could pull back, she gently tugged me closer and I surrendered, resting my head against her warmth. 

I wrapped my arms around her waist and her fingers found my hair instantly, like they belonged there, gentle strokes that made my eyes flutter closed and I thought, this was home. This was peace. Even as my body screamed for relief, even as guilt gnawed at me, here with her, I could almost believe everything would be okay.

"What are you reading?" I mumbled against her shirt, already knowing the answer. Why did she still throw herself into this project? Did it even matter anymore? But I already knew that answer too. Distraction.

"Research papers. For our project." Her fingers never stopped their magic. "Everything okay at the hospital?" I wondered for a second how she knew where I went, but then she said, "Antiseptic smell."

Did I always smell like that? Like the harsh, sterile scent of the hospital? I hated it. Hated how it seemed to cling to my skin no matter how many times I scrubbed my hands raw. Hated the way it reminded me of sickness and death.

I hugged her tighter, breathing in her familiar scent as that was so unlike the clinical smell of the hospital as I crafted the lie. Yeah, everything's fine, I told her. Had to check on something with a patient. Normal stuff, nothing to worry about. Standard procedure.

But even as I spoke, the guilt in my stomach twisted. The truth was, I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep going like this. I could feel myself slipping, losing my grip on the things that mattered most and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd even make it to the end.

If I'd be there to witness the results of our research, to stand by her side as we perhaps do something great. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown out the intrusive thoughts, focusing on the feel of her beneath me, the steady rise and fall of her breath.

Her fingers paused momentarily in my hair, and I knew she sensed something off. She always could read me too well. But then she resumed the gentle stroking.

"You'd tell me if something's wrong, right?"

"Of course," I whispered, another lie to add to the growing pile.

I tightened my arms around her waist, as if by holding her close enough, I could somehow make up for my betrayal. As if loving her fiercely enough could somehow balance out the pain I was about to cause her. Monday felt both too far away and not nearly far enough.

Desperate for a distraction, I asked about how it went at the police station. She said it was fine, her friends were with her as they'd needed to clarify their statements, she explained, her fingers still weaving through my hair. Everything had been too hazy right after the party.

She mentioned they needed me to verify my own statement again too. I bit back the urge to say that they'd likely have to come to my hospital bed for that. Instead, I just hummed in response. Whatever it took to make that little shit pay for what he'd done.

"He won't hurt anyone else," she added. "We'll make sure of it."

Something about her struck me as odd. How could she be so unaffected by everything that had happened? Like we didn’t just discover that Zenin Naoya was—

"You're so calm about it." 

"And what would you have me do?"

I didn’t know. Maybe I should be grateful that at least one of us could keep it together. 

I turned my head, pressing a kiss to her palm. I wanted to tell her how proud I was of her, how sorry I was for dragging her into this mess, how I feared the rumors that would follow her through university halls. How fucking terrified I was. How much I loved her. But it all just crowded in my throat, tangled with all the other truths I couldn't voice.

Instead, I just held her tighter. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For what?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Or lie again. I clung to her, as if she were the only thing keeping me from falling apart, pressing my face into her stomach, trying to blur myself into her very being. "Satoru,” she winced, a small sound escaping her lips. "You're hurting me."

"Please," I pleaded, tears pricking at my eyes. “Just… bear it for a moment. Please.” But then, a sudden tickle rose in my throat, and I sat up abruptly, he movement sending the room spinning.

"You okay?" she asked, sitting up as well, her hand cradling her side.

"Yeah," I managed, before another cough clawed its way out. I stood, turning away from her, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. When I pulled it away, blood glistened on my palm.

"Satoru? You sure you're okay?"

"Everything's fine." I curled my fingers into a fist, watching red seep between my knuckles. "Just need some water."

I should call him again. Should probably head to the hospital right now. Every logical part of my brain screamed at me to seek help, to stop this madness before it was too late. 

But Sunday's dinner loomed in my mind. One last chance to fix things with her, to make things right before everything inevitably crumbled around us. Just two more days. I just needed to hold on for two more days and then I could let the chips fall where they may.

Even as blood painted the back of my throat red, I clung to that desperate hope, that foolish notion that I could make this right. I knew I was being stupid. Reckless. Playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun. 

But then again, what did it matter anyway?

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note — welcome back, i hope this wasn't too intense, even tho i went through all stages of grief writing this chapter, but i'm quite happy with how it turned out. hope you all survived seeing things through satoru's eyes once more. writing from his perspective is always both challenging and thrilling in some strange way.

quick note, as this is somehow not obvious to some people: i understand that this story deals with controversial topics and might not be everyone’s cup of tea but this is purely fictional work, and i'm just here to enjoy a stupid little hobby. i am not looking for criticism. if the story makes you uncomfortable, feel free to block me and move on.

for those following the spin-off: yes, this chapter runs parallel to remedies and reasons chapter 04 ! if you want to see how certain events played out from a different angle, definitely check out the suguru spin-off.

and i want to thank you all for your incredible support. your comments, messages, and theories continue to blow me away. seeing how deeply you connect with this story and catch all the little details i sprinkle throughout brings me so much joy. your thoughtful analyses and wild speculations make writing this stupid story so much fun !! :''))

also a massive thank you to @/nanamis-baker who beta reads all these chaotic chapters, listens to my rambling about plot points, and talks me down whenever i'm convinced everything i write is terrible <3

& second quick note about the alcohol consumption in this story: while it's serve the narrative of the story, please remember that alcohol is toxic to the body and brain, with no "safe" amount. please be mindful of your health and wellbeing.

next chapter we'll be back to our regular pov as we deal with the aftermath of... well, all of this. until then, take care of yourselves ! and as always, thank you for joining me on this chaotic journey and being patient with my slow updates <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here !

tags — @browrm @panteramarron @starlightanyaaa

@myahfig4 @rosebluod @bloopsstuff @depressedemosantaclaus @nanamis-baker

@tofumiao @shoruio @s3vtrue @rosso-seta @bnha-free-writing

@chiyokoemilia @bonequinhagojo @janbannan @mikkmmmii @yeiena

@coeqi @faustina @glenkiller338 @yenmrtnz @buni-bunnydoll

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (10)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Supermodel!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.7k

Aliyah's Notes: another long chapter!!!! had a bit of an issue with this chapter. didn't know where to go, and how to finish it but i'm pretty satisfied with the ending... hope y'all will feel that way too #scared

You were going to throw up.

It was 6 in the morning, and your apartment was filled with a pre-party energy—Aisha fluttering around checking final details, making sure everything was perfect for you. But for you, the weight of the day felt unbearable. The engagement party was only a few hours away, and you were supposed to feel excited, but instead, all you could feel was anxiety.

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at your reflection as the fabric of your saree clung to your skin. It was a beautiful one—pale yellow with blue hues, simple, elegant. But as you looked at yourself, all you saw were flaws. Your stomach, the slight curve of your hips, your arms felt weird. Every inch of you felt exposed, like you were wearing your insecurities on display for the world to see. The saree that was supposed to make you feel confident now felt like a prison, the tightness around your chest suffocating you.

You tugged at the fabric, your fingers trembling as your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know, Aish,” you said, your voice faltering. “I just… I don’t think I can do this.”

Aisha, who had been running around your place, stopped and turned to you with a frown, concern written all over her face. “Y/N, you look perfect. Rafe is going to love it, I swear. You look incredible, seriously.”

But her words didn’t reach you. They never did. They didn’t fix the sinking feeling in your stomach, the pit that had been growing since you woke up. You didn’t feel incredible. You felt like a mess. Like a lie. You felt like you didn’t belong in this world of glitz and glamour, not when the weight of your own past was pressing down on you.

You turned back to the mirror, avoiding her gaze, and exhaled shakily. “It’s not about Rafe,” you said, barely above a whisper, as if the words were too heavy to say aloud. “It’s… it’s everything. Everyone.”

She didn’t speak at first, but you could hear her footsteps approach slowly, her presence gentle and calm as she stood beside you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re not here,” you murmured, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “My family—they haven’t been here. They don’t care.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and so did the tears running down your face. You quickly wiped them away, trying to maintain some sort of control, but it was useless. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave.

Aisah’s expression softened, and she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I know it’s tough, but you left for a reason. They treated you like an animal—you were nothing to them and look at you now. You have everything you want, you’re surrounded by people who love you, and you’re engaged to an amazing guy.”

“But you don’t get it,” your voice broke. “I haven’t spoken to them in years, Aisha. I haven’t heard from them since… you know… My Amma and Appa… they’ve never cared to fix what happened. And now they’re not here for this huge moment. They’re not here for me. And I just feel… I feel like none of this matters without them.”

You could feel the tightness in your chest grow, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Every time you thought about them—your parents, your siblings—it felt like the world was falling apart again. All the years of silence, the anger, the bitterness, the feeling of being abandoned… it was all still there, festering under the surface. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were always going to feel like the outsider, the one who wasn’t good enough for their love.

Aisha watched you quietly for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer. “Y/N, I know this isn’t easy. But this isn’t about your family. This is about you and the life you’re building. You’re so much more than your past, and tonight you get to shine. You’re not doing this for them. You’re doing it for you.”

You closed your eyes, letting her words sink in. You still feel the weight of it all, but as Aisha gave you one last reassuring look, you felt a small spark of resolve. Maybe you didn’t feel perfect. Maybe you never would. But tonight, you would step into this new chapter of your life, for you, and not for anyone else.

“You’re right,” you whispered, putting on a fake-ish smile. “Let me get over this. There’s too much to do today.”

The hours before the engagement party moved in a blur of preparations, but the nerves clung to you like an unwelcome guest. After Aisha helped you steady yourself, you dove into the checklist for the day, hoping to lose your anxieties in the bustle. Your hairdresser and makeup artist arrived promptly, transforming your apartment into a whirlwind of brushes, palettes, and fabric draping.

Despite the chaos, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone every few minutes, the screen lighting up teasingly with messages from Rafe. He’d been training all morning, but somehow still found the time to send you a steady stream of texts.

Rafe: Do you think this party will have snacks? Asking for a hungry basketball player.

You: There’s a buffet, Rafe. You’ll survive.

Rafe: Buffet doesn’t count. I want something good, like that thing you brought over the other day.

You: If you’re fishing for more biryani, the answer is no.

Rafe: Wow, first you take my penthouse, now you refuse me food? This marriage is starting off rocky.

You: This marriage hasn’t even started yet.

The exchange brought a smile to your lips despite yourself. He had this way of teasing that felt like a lifeline at the moment.

“Are you blushing?” Aisha teased from where she was meticulously laying out your jewelry.

“What? No,” you said, far too quickly. “Why would I even be blushing? You’re nuts… absolutely… absolutely nuts…”

“Oh my fucking God! You are!” she said with a grin, leaning in to glance at your phone. You pulled it away before she could peek at the screen, but the damage was done. “God, it’s so cute how he makes you smile like that.”

“You’re actually insane,” you mumbled, heat creeping up your neck.

She only laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Denial is a river in Egypt, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your lips from twitching into a small grin. Rafe sent another message.

Rafe: So, what are you wearing?

You hesitated for a moment before replying.

You: Why? Thinking of copying my outfit?

Rafe: Maybe. But only if it’s good.

You: It’s a saree. Pale yellow with blue embroidery.

Rafe: Does it have one of those drapey things?

You: Yes, Cameron. That’s literally what makes it a saree!!!

Rafe: Got it. Drapey thing = saree. Send me a picture.

You didn’t respond, setting your phone down and pretending to focus on your makeup.

“Your husband?” Aisha asked, noticing your sudden quiet.

“Future husband,” you corrected with a finger up. “And obviously.”

“What’d he say?”

“He wants a picture.”

“Send him one. He’ll probably lose his mind. And let’s be real—you could use the ego boost.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Aisha wasn’t wrong. The way Rafe looked at you sometimes—or even texted you—had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the room. 

The hairdresser finished with your slicked half-up half-down hairstyle. Aisha brought over the jewelry: delicate gold bangles, matching earrings, and a necklace that felt heavy against your collarbones.

“Perfect,” Aisha said, stepping back to admire the finished look.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The saree hugged you gracefully, the embroidery catching the light with every movement. The makeup brought a glow to your skin, and the hair framed your face perfectly. For the first time all day, you felt... good. 

Before you could overthink it, you picked up your phone and snapped a quick selfie—just enough to show the saree and the soft smile playing on your lips.

You: Fine. Here.

The reply came almost instantly.

Rafe: ...You’re killing me here.

Your heart skipped a beat at the simplicity of the words.

Rafe: Thank you brown people for existing, and making you. Rafe: Truly humanity owes them. Rafe: Forget the engagement party. Let’s just elope.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head.

You: Not happening. See you tonight.

His response made your stomach flutter in the strangest way.

Rafe: Can’t wait to become your fiancé, sweetheart.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the venue, its soft hum fading into the gentle buzz of the world outside. Through the tinted windows, you could see flashes of light—camera shutters capturing every moment like hunters seeking prey. The glow spilling from the venue, golden and inviting, felt overwhelming, almost oppressive. It danced off the grand arches of the villa, the soft flicker of string lights crisscrossing the courtyard casting a magical glow on the scene.

For a moment, you sat frozen, your fingers clutching the delicate fabric of your saree. It was meant to represent happiness, a tie to your heritage that should have brought you pride. But tonight, it felt more like a shackle, reminding you of the pieces of yourself you’d lost along the way.

“You okay?” Aisha’s voice came softly from beside you, laced with the familiar tone of concern that only she could carry so effortlessly. She looked radiant in her pale pink dress.

“Yeah… I… I’m fine,” you replied, the lie clumsy on your tongue.

Aisha raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but deciding to let it slide. The car door opened, and she stepped out first, her head held high as though she didn’t care about anything—and knowing Aisha, she probably really didn’t care. When she turned to offer you her hand, her expression softened—a silent gesture of reassurance. You took it hesitantly, forcing your legs to carry you out of the car.

The cool evening air brushed against your skin, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the heat in your chest. Cameras clicked relentlessly, their flashes a blinding assault as the whispers began to ripple through the crowd.

“She’s a bit late.”

“She looks beautiful.”

“Why didn’t Rafe escort her out?”

“What is she wearing?”

Each word clawed at you, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed image you wore like an armor. You kept your head down, focusing on the rhythmic click of your heels against the gravel path as you made your way toward the villa’s entrance. The towering structure loomed over you, its ivy-draped walls and ornate carvings reminiscent of a bygone era. The cascading floral arrangements, all in deep crimson and soft pink hues.

Everything added to the suffocating pressure weighing on your chest.

Inside, the air buzzed with laughter and conversation as guests began to fill the sprawling garden. Long tables stretched across the courtyard, their surfaces glimmering with candles and vases bursting with fresh blooms. Everything was picturesque, perfect. Yet, all you could feel was a rising sense of dread.

“I need a minute,” you whispered to Aisha, not waiting for her reply before walking rapidly inside the villa.

You navigated the winding hallways with purpose, your steps quick but unsteady. You needed to escape—to find a quiet corner where the world’s eyes couldn’t follow, where you could let the overwhelming storm inside you settle, even just for a moment. The getting-ready room—it was the perfect refuge, a place to breathe and gather yourself before you faced the crowd again.

But as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Rafe was there.

He leaned against the doorframe with an ease that felt infuriatingly effortless, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored white suit. The soft lighting played tricks with the lines of his face, his tousled hair looking as if it had been styled by the wind itself. The open collar of his shirt gave him an air of nonchalance that made him seem untouchable—except for the flicker of something warm in his eyes as he met your gaze.

“You planning to bolt already?” he teased, a crooked smile playing on his lips. His voice, low and smooth, carried the same blend of humor and arrogance that had always annoyed you.

You stopped, caught off guard. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Rafe pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step toward you. “Waiting for you,” he said, his gaze dragging deliberately over your saree. His smile deepened as his eyes met yours again. “You look beau—”

“Rafe, I can’t do this,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out before you could stop them.

The smile faded from his face, replaced by an expression of concern. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you said, your voice breaking. “The people, the cameras, the party—it’s all too much.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “You’ve done this a hundred times before,” he said softly. “What’s different now?”

You hesitated. “It’s not important,” you muttered, hoping he’d let it go. 

But Rafe wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady but insistent. “Talk to me.”

You sighed, the lump in your throat growing heavier. “It’s stupid, okay? I’m just… I’m not used to this.”

“That’s not true.”

Your jaw tightened, and you looked away, your voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re not here.”

“Who?”

The question made you flinch, but you kept your response measured, your tone distant. “No one. It doesn’t matter.”

Rafe stepped closer, his presence grounding but not invasive. “It matters if it’s upsetting you.”

“It’s just… my family. We’re not close anymore, okay? And moments like this just remind me of that. But it’s fine. Whatever.”

His eyes softened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. The details of your fractured relationship with your parents, the abuse, the years of silence—it wasn’t something you wanted to unpack here, not with him. You hated being this exposed, hated feeling so small under the weight of it all.

Rafe’s expression shifted, the concern in his eyes deepening. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady but kind. “Look at me.”

“I can’t,” you shook your head, refusing. “You won’t understand.”

“Then help me,” he urged, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “Talk to me.”

The lump in your throat grew, the words threatening to choke you. “I left them,” you started. “But I had a reason. I couldn’t continue living there. We were poor, so poor, Rafe. Some days we were barely fed and barely had a roof over our heads,” your voice trembled, and you forced yourself to not close your eyes to not relieve that part of your life. “They forced me to se—” but you stopped yourself. Not ready to admit it to Rafe. “—whatever. I just don’t feel like I belong anywhere.”

His jaw tightened, his grip on your arm firming slightly. For a moment, he said nothing, his blue eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together the fractures you’d worked so hard to hide. Then, quietly, he spoke.

“You belong here,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “With me. Tonight, this party, all of it—it’s for us. And I don’t care who’s not here, because I’m here, okay? You worked hard to get where you are, and you can’t let your past, or anyone, ruin it for you.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of your doubt. Slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with a warmth that steadied you.

You walked back toward the door, Rafe’s hand lightly resting against your back, guiding you through the villa. As you stepped into the bustling courtyard, the noise of the party hit you again—the sound of laughter, the clinking of glasses, the faint hum of music. It was impossible to escape the energy, the pressure of eyes watching.

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself. Tonight wasn’t going to be easy, but you’d already survived the worst of it. With Rafe by your side, you could handle whatever came next.

The first person you spotted was Nina, her smile bright and easy as she chatted with a few guests by the drink station. She caught sight of you and waved, excusing herself from the conversation. Her dress—an elegant gold one—flattered her frame as she approached.

“You two disappeared for a while,” Nina said with a teasing glint in her eyes, though there was a hint of concern there, too. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, don’t worry. Everything’s perfect,” you waved your hands to not worry her. “By the way, Rafe, this is Nina Ramos—my agent and my second mother.”

He extended his hand with a charming grin. “Nice to meet you,” he said smoothly. “YN’s been telling me a lot about you.”

Liar.

Nina took his hand, her sharp eyes flicking between the two of you. “Has she now? All good I hope,” and you nodded instantly. “Well, this party is important and beautiful. Maybe all your overthinking served you well—you look absolutely perfect, honey. You too, Rafe.”

“Thanks,” you blushed at her compliment.

Rafe smirked. “She does look perfect, doesn’t she?”

You gave him a playful look, your lips curling into a reluctant smile at his compliment. 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “But it was great meeting you, Rafe Cameron.”

“Likewise,” he replied, and with one last smile, Nina disappeared back into the crowd.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to Rafe with a small smile. “She’s a good friend of mine,” you said softly. “You’ll like her.”

Rafe gave you a raised eyebrow. “She seems cool. I can see why you’re friends.”

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter caught your attention, and you spotted Aisha, her arm linked with a tall, broad-shouldered man. Her husband, Ishan—someone you hadn’t seen in a while. You had to blink to fully register the change in him, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. 

Without thinking, you broke into a smile and made your way toward them, Rafe following behind.

As soon as Aisha spotted you, her face lit up with recognition. “Look who decided to surprise you,” she smiled, her voice higher because of how excited she was.

You immediately wrapped your arms around her husband, stepping into a hug. He chuckled, holding you tightly as he returned the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” you said, squeezing him as he laughed.

Ishan was like an older brother to you. He’d been there through some of the toughest times in your life, and his easy going nature always managed to bring you a sense of peace. His deep laugh and the familiarity of his embrace were exactly what you needed.

“I’ve missed you too, behen,” he said. “I come back to New York and I’m being told you’re getting married to Rafe Cameron. Imagine my surprise when Aisha told me.”

You pulled back from the embrace and laughed awkwardly. “Ah, yes, Rafe… Surprise, surprise, right?” 

Ishan furrowed his brows but you moved your hands. “I can’t really believe it… It’s really happening…”

“No, no! It’s not like—uh, well, okay, it is, but it’s like…” you turned your head to find Rafe behind Aisha making a cross with his hands. “I love it. He’s so, so, so funny and charming—and very committed, you know…”

“Uh huh, I see,” Ishan nodded and laughed at how weird you were being. “Can’t believe he’s gonna marry a loser like y—”

“So, you’re actually here. It’s been too long—how’s Switzerland?” you interrupted, and he sent you a look because he hated when you did that. “Sorry… but how is it? Did you climb every mountain and, like, yodel on top of a glacier?”

He chuckled a little and shook his head. “No, no yodelling, but I did eat tons of chocolate. I bought some for you too.” You did not even have time to reply to him that he extended a hand toward Rafe, his tone both warm and challenging. “So, you’re the infamous Rafe Cameron. My wife gave me a run-down on you. Some good things… and some questionable ones.”

"Your wife? Wait, who’s your wife?" Rafe asked, his confusion evident.

Oh, crap. You totally forgot to explain the whole family tree situation. Rookie mistake.

Aisha sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she raised her hand. "I’m the wife, genius. Seriously, YN—did you not tell him?"

"I’m sorry!" You blurted, cringing. "It completely slipped my mind. It’s just so normal to me that I didn’t even think to—"

Rafe interrupted you, and took Ishan’s hand in his. His smirk disarming but his handshake firm. “Well, I hope the good outweighed the questionable.”

“Debatable,” Ishan replied with a shrug. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt… at least until you give me a reason not to.”

You felt a knot in your stomach as you glanced between the two. Ishan wasn’t being hostile, but his protectiveness had always been intense, like that of an older brother who wasn’t afraid to test the waters.

Rafe, to his credit, didn’t back down. His smirk deepened slightly, and he shrugged with an air of playful confidence. “Fair enough. I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

“I’d hope so,” Ishan said lightly, though the undertone was clear. His gaze softened as it flicked toward you, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got a good one here. Don’t mess it up.”

“Trust me, I know how lucky I am,” Rafe replied, glancing at you with an expression so sincere it caught you off guard.

The words made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for, a warmth spreading through you despite the nervous energy still bubbling beneath the surface.

Aisha rolled her eyes, slapping her husband’s chest. “Alright, alright, that’s enough intimidation for one night. Let’s get some drinks, baby.”

Ishan laughed, ruffling Aisha’s hair affectionately before turning to you. “If he gives you any trouble, you know where to find me, behen.”

You grinned at the familiar term of endearment, feeling a wave of gratitude for his presence. “Yup!”

With a wink, they both disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Rafe standing together.

The second they were out of earshot, Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. “So, is everyone in your life this protective, or is it just me getting the special treatment?”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “What can I say? People care about me. Better get used to it.”

“Noted,” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll add it to the ever-growing list of things to keep in mind when dealing with your very... passionate circle of people.”

An awkward silence stretched between us as you scanned the guests arriving. You recognized a few—Aisha’s mom, aunts, and cousins, mingling with Nina’s friends and siblings. You couldn't help but wonder if your wedding would be filled with people who didn’t really know you either.

Rafe stepped closer, standing next to you, and flashed a playful grin. "So, Ishan… he’s your… older brother, right?" He asked, clearly trying to figure out the family dynamic.

You turned to him with a soft laugh, shaking my head. "No, not my brother," you said, before pausing for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Okay, let me explain." You drew in a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "Ishan’s more like the brother I never had—well, I do have brothers, but when I left home, I hadn’t really connected with them. But then I came to the U.S. and met Aisha, and Ishan just sort of stepped into that role. We’ve been through everything together—good, bad, you name it. He’s always had my back. No blood relation, but he might as well be."

Rafe’s expression softened as he absorbed that, nodding. “Sounds like he’s a pretty solid guy.”

“He really is,” you smiled, warmth creeping into your voice. “He and Aisha have always had my back, and they’ve been together for years now. They make a great team.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he said, grinning. “He’s got that same intimidating vibe as she does. You can practically feel it.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Exactly! Aisha and I used to joke about it. She always said, if I needed someone to scare off a date, I’d just call Ishan. Aisha’s got that sharp edge, and Ishan? He’s got the muscles.”

“I can definitely see that…” he said with a thoughtful nod before asking, “So, what kind of dynamic do you think we have?”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze for a moment as the question hung in the air. “Uh, well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean, we’re… we’re like, uh, a work in progress? Yeah, that sounds right. Like one of those ‘under construction’ signs, you know? A little chaotic…?” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Chaotic? Really? You’re gonna call us chaotic?”

“Yeah, well, have you met you?” You shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re like a walking disaster zone.”

He laughed, leaning back. “Oh, I’m a disaster? You’re the one who keeps on throwing shade. For no reason at all.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to mind your own business,” you snapped, the words biting as you shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re the one getting all up in my space with your weird questions.”

“I’m not asking weird questions,” he shot back, his voice rising to match the sharpness of yours. “And do you seriously think we’re chaotic?”

You gave him a side-eye, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Chaotic is an understatement, Cameron. We’re a disaster—with a capital D.”

He laughed, the sound low and amused, as though he didn’t take you seriously. “Oh really? You’re one to talk. You practically live for the drama.”

“Me? I live for drama?” You scoffed, pivoting fully to face him now, hands planted firmly on your hips as you let your eyes travel up and down him in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. “You’re the definition of drama. You can’t even breathe without making everything about you.”

His lips curled into a grin, the kind that made your stomach twist in a way you refused to acknowledge. “You’re so easy to rile up.”

“You’re a jackass,” you muttered, shaking your head, every fiber of your being wanting to push him away—but not sure if you meant physically or emotionally.

He leaned in slightly, as if to throw another jibe your way, but instead, his eyes gleamed with mischief. “I think you’re just mad because I’m better at this than you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you closed the distance between you, but the move was more impulsive than you intended. You instantly regretted it, realizing just how close you were to him now, the heat from his body practically radiating against yours. You swallowed, trying to mask the effect it had on you. “Better at what? Being a complete asshole?” Your voice wavered with a sharpness that betrayed how much it bothered you. “Yeah, Rafe, you’re a pro at that.”

He leaned in even closer, and this time, his grin wasn’t just playful—it was dangerous. “You love it,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave, making your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you rolled your eyes, trying to keep control of the situation. “Oh, fuck off. The only thing I like is when you finally shut up.” You crossed your arms tighter, trying to distance yourself emotionally, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you two, the tension hanging thick in the air.

He was close now, too close, and it was suffocating in the most unsettling way. His breath was warm against your skin, the space between you closing so much that you could almost taste the words on his lips before they even came. 

“Is that so?” His voice was low, teasing, his grin widening as his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there just long enough to make you feel it.

You couldn’t help it—you gulped, the way he was looking at you making your pulse race, something deep inside you stirring against the cold front you were trying so hard to put up. “Yeah, that so,” you managed, but your voice had a tremor to it now, and you hated yourself for it.

He smiled, the kind of smile that could make you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “Well, in that case,” he said, the words dragging as he leaned even closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, “I’m just gonna keep talking.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to send a shiver down your spine.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream at him or kiss him.

You could feel his presence pressing in on you, the heat between you two almost unbearable, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. The world outside of him seemed to vanish, the hum of the city, the weight of your thoughts, everything melting away until there was only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You knew you should pull away, should say something, anything, to break this tension, but the words wouldn’t come.

He watched you closely, his eyes locked onto yours, a hint of something unreadable flickering there—something playful, something dangerous, maybe both.

“You look like you’re about to say something,” he said, his voice thick with amusement.

You opened your mouth, trying to push past the lump in your throat, but it felt like the words were stuck. Instead, you just looked at him—really looked at him for the first time in what felt like forever. He was close, too close, but in that moment, it felt impossible to back away. He made you feel things you didn’t want to feel, things that you didn’t understand.

“I don’t wanna say anything,” you muttered, the words slipping out as a mix of frustration and something you refused to acknowledge.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, that devilish smirk curling on his lips.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but you didn’t say a word. You simply nodded, lips pressed together in a thin line, trying to hold onto some semblance of control.

He closed the gap between you, leaning in with deliberate slowness. You could feel the heat of his body inching closer, the soft scent of his cologne filling your senses, until his lips barely brushed against your cheek. The kiss was featherlight, teasing—infuriatingly so. It was enough to make your stomach twist with desire, but you refused to let it show. You wanted to press your thighs together, to feel that familiar ache between your legs, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was affecting you.

“Well, I have something to say,” his voice was low, rich with satisfaction as he lingered just inches from your skin. “I think… You’re not as immune to me as you like to pretend.”

The words sent a jolt through your chest, but you shook your head, pulling your hands up to his chest, your fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt, then gliding slowly to his neck, tracing the line of his jaw before resting at the back of it. You felt his pulse under your fingertips, and your breath hitched.

“I don’t… I don’t pretend,” you said, your voice quieter, but the frustration bubbling underneath was unmistakable. “You’re just an idiot,” you continued, pressing your palms harder into his skin. “And so fucking frustrating.”

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Look at you.” His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. “You’re getting all worked up. You want this, don’t you? I can see it. You’re practically begging me to fuck you right now with those eyes. Is that what you want, baby?”

Every nerve in your body screamed yes. You could feel your pulse racing, your skin burning as his words settled deep inside you. The ache between your legs was undeniable now, but your mind fought back. Your heart was pounding in your ears, screaming no. You couldn't let yourself fall for this again. You remembered the last time—the cold distance after everything had gotten too real, the way he’d pulled away, leaving you shattered. You couldn’t be left like that again. 

But then, the look on his face—those sharp eyes, glimmering with something dangerous. He looked so good, so fucking good, in that white suit that fit him like a second skin. The way it molded to his chest, the tightness around his biceps, made your breath catch in your throat. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him, feel the strength of his muscles under your fingers, wanted to bite at his neck, press your lips to the smooth skin there and feel him shudder beneath you.

God, it was maddening. You hated how he made you feel so out of control, how every inch of him seemed to draw you in. Your body was betraying you, and you hated it.

But what about him? Did he feel the same pull? Did he burn for you the way you did for him, or was this just another game for him to play, another conquest to add to his long list? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

Rafe’s eyes never left you as you fought to suppress the desire stirring within you. But he knew it. He could see it in the way your breath hitched, in the way you couldn’t stop your hands from brushing against him, testing the limits, even as you pretended to resist. 

But something shifted in him. He straightened, his posture changing, the smug grin slipping ever so slightly as his gaze flickered to the entrance of the party.

It wasn’t just any glance—it was sharp, instinctive. He’d caught sight of someone familiar, someone whose presence immediately shifted the air in the room.

You followed his line of sight, your chest tightening as you noticed who it was: The Cameron family. Sarah, Wheezie, Rose, and Ward. Their arrival had a different weight, one that Rafe clearly felt deep in his bones. You saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened for just a moment, before he quickly masked it with a flash of that signature cocky smile.

Ward, tall and imposing in his crisp suit, moved with the sort of authority that always seemed to follow him. Rose, on his arm, was more subdued but equally elegant, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the crowd, clearly scanning for something or someone. Their eyes met Rafe’s across the room, and the tension in his body was palpable.

His hand, which had been resting lightly at your waist, now tightened, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress in a way that made you wonder if he even noticed. But you noticed him. You noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he suddenly seemed aware of every movement, every gesture, every word spoken around him.

He cleared his throat, stepping back slightly from you, though his body remained rigid, still keeping you close. “I think my parents just walked in,” he said quietly, as though speaking more to himself than to you, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.

You looked at him, the reality of the situation settling in. His family—his father, especially—was here, and suddenly everything felt different. The air seemed heavier. The playful banter between you both had shifted into something more guarded, more calculated.

“Yeah, I noticed,” you whispered.

Rafe took a slow breath, his eyes never leaving his parents as they moved further into the room, exchanging greetings with guests. He didn’t speak immediately, as if preparing himself for whatever role he was about to play in front of them. His jaw clenched again, but he quickly forced a smile back onto his face, turning to you.

“Let’s go say hello, yeah?” His voice was smoother now, though you could still sense the unease beneath the surface. It was almost like he was pulling back, retreating into the version of himself he showed them—controlled, perfect, everything his father demanded of him. “Is that okay with you?”

No.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his tension on your shoulders, but you followed him. The closer you got to his family, the more you could feel the pressure build. Rafe's movements were more deliberate now, like he was preparing to play his part in the family drama. You couldn’t help but notice how differently he held himself around them—like a man who knew he would never measure up, no matter how much he tried.

Rafe paused just before reaching them, throwing you a look that was both apologetic and protective. It was as if, for just a moment, he needed you to understand how much this moment mattered. But you weren’t sure if it was about impressing them or surviving the encounter with his family’s expectations. Whatever it was, you could feel it thick in the air, something unspoken but undeniable.

Rafe’s steps slowed as you reached his father, Ward. He was a towering figure, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his presence seemingly taking over the entire space. Rose, his stepmother, stood slightly behind him, elegant and poised, her eyes a sharp contrast to Ward’s cool and calculating demeanor.

Rafe stopped just short of them, his hand still on your waist, but his stance had subtly shifted—he was guarded, unsure, like he was ready to retreat if the need arose.

“Dad,” Rafe greeted, his voice smooth but lacking its usual confidence. His posture was just a little too stiff, as if waiting for the inevitable judgment that would come with every interaction.

Ward's gaze lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than normal before he acknowledged him, his tone clipped. “Rafe,” he said, the smile on his face barely noticeable, more a polite curve of the lips than anything genuine. “You’re looking well.”

The words hung in the air, but they didn’t carry any warmth. It was a statement of fact rather than praise, and it made your skin prickle. You could feel Rafe tense beside you, his fingers tightening just a little, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he gave a small, practiced smile and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

You remained silent for a moment, unsure of where to fit in, but Sarah, ever the warm presence, was the first to step forward. She flashed you a grin, her eyes already lighting up with recognition. “Hey, YN!” she said enthusiastically, her voice a welcome contrast to the tension in the air. "So good to see you again!"

"Hi, Sarah," you responded, your smile easing a little, feeling comforted by her energy. "It’s good to see you too."

She pulled you into a friendly hug, and you found yourself relaxing into it. Sarah had this easygoing charm about her, a lightness that made you forget the weight of the room for a moment. She was everything Rafe wasn’t—effortlessly kind, bubbly, and generous with her affection.

“Wheezie and I were just talking about you,” Sarah added, and you turned to find a petite, younger girl standing a few feet away.

Wheezie’s face lit up when she caught your gaze. “Hi. I’m Wheezie. It’s cool to meet you.”

You smiled at her. “Hi, Wheezie. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly nervous. “You’re a model, right? That’s so cool. I’ve seen your pictures in Vogue!”

You blinked in surprise, warmth spreading in your chest. “You have?”

“Yeah!” Wheezie nodded enthusiastically. “You’re so pretty, and your outfits are amazing. How did you even start doing that?”

Her genuine curiosity was disarming, and for a moment, you forgot the tension hanging in the air. You leaned slightly closer, your smile becoming more natural. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you sometime if you want.”

Wheezie’s face lit up. “Really? That’d be awesome.”

Rafe, who had been watching the interaction silently, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with amusement. “Wheezie, you’re gonna scare her off.”

Wheezie flushed, but she grinned up at her brother. “I’m just being friendly.”

“She’s fine,” you said quickly, shooting Wheezie a reassuring smile. “It’s nice to meet someone who’s actually interested in what I do.”

Rose cleared her throat, interrupting the light moment. “Oh, we’re interested in you, dear,” she said, her tone honeyed but with an edge of condescension. “Rafe’s been so secretive about you, it’s about time we got to know you better.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologized with a polite smile. “I’m here now, though.”

“Yes, you are,” Ward interjected, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Rafe mentioned your career. It must be… demanding.”

You nodded carefully. “It can be, but I enjoy it. I’ve worked hard to get where I am.”

Ward tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “And maintaining that image must be just as hard. I imagine you have to watch every calorie to stay in shape for your work. Must be exhausting.”

The words hit you like a sharp slap, your chest tightening as old insecurities clawed their way to the surface. You forced a neutral smile, but your nails dug into the palm of your hand to keep steady. “It’s part of the job,” you replied carefully, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

Rose waved a dismissive hand, her eyes flitting over you in a way that felt equally invasive. “Don’t listen to him, honey. You look perfectly healthy to me. Honestly, I’d kill to have your body.”

Her words were meant as a compliment, but they were worse than his. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice quieter now.

Rafe stiffened beside you, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his tone firm, a warning laced beneath the words.

But Ward ignored him, his attention still on you. “We’re not saying anything wrong. She does look healthy… in a sickly way.” His smile was thin, and though the words were spoken lightly, there was an edge to them.

You forced another smile, but your composure was slipping. The weight of their attention, the veiled comments, the subtle dissection of your body—it was too much.

“I’m sorry,” you said abruptly, stepping back slightly. ��Excuse me for a moment.”

The moment you stepped into the bathroom, the world outside seemed to dissolve. The faint hum of voices from the gathering became muffled as you locked the door and leaned against it, your chest heaving. You clutched your stomach, the ache inside more emotional than physical, as Ward’s and Rose’s comments echoed in your mind.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back, unkind and unforgiving. You pressed your trembling hands against the sink, breathing shallowly as the familiar sensation of panic crept up your throat.

No matter how far you thought you’d come, it was always there — lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of vulnerability. Your stomach churned violently, the pressure too much. You barely made it to the toilet before the wave overtook you.

Kneeling on the cold tile, you hated yourself for this relapse. Your body trembled as tears stung your eyes, the shame wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. You knew better. Yet here you were, undone by a handful of careless words.

The door suddenly creaked open. Panic seized you as you tried to compose yourself, but it was too late.

“YN?” Rafe’s voice was low and tentative, laced with worry. He must’ve picked the lock.

You froze, your back to him, trying to will him away. “Go away, Rafe.”

He didn’t. Instead, he stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

You heard the scuff of his shoes as he approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Just leave me alone.”

But then he was kneeling beside you, his presence warm and steady despite the storm raging inside you. His hand gently touched your back, and you flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m here,” he said simply, his tone quiet but firm. He reached out, gathering your hair and pulling it away from your face with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me help.”

The knot in your throat tightened, and a sob escaped before you could stop it. You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head. “I’m so pathetic,” you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I promised myself I’d never do this again. I’ve tried so hard to move on, to be better. But it’s always there. It’s always waiting for me to fail.”

He paused, his hand stilling for a moment before he spoke. “You’re not failing,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re human. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still standing. That’s not failing, YN. That’s surviving.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you finally turned to look at him. His blue eyes were fixed on you, full of a mix of anger and concern—not at you, but for you. He reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek with a gentleness that nearly broke you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

You hesitated, your walls instinctively rising. But something about the way he looked at you—without judgment, without pity—made you feel safe enough to let them down.

“It’s… it’s complicated,” you began, your voice shaky. “I’ve struggled with this for a long time. Since I was a teenager. Modeling didn’t cause it, but it made it worse. Everyone always has something to say about my body—it’s too thin, it’s too big, it’s never enough.” you swallowed hard, your throat burning. “And tonight… your dad, Rose… they just hit a nerve.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and you could see the anger flickering in his eyes. But he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I was past it,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “But it never really goes away. It just… quiets down. Until something like this happens.”

Rafe nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I get it,” he said, surprising you. “Not in the same way, but I get it. The pressure, the expectations. Feeling like no matter what you do, it’s never enough.”

You stared at him, the rawness in his voice catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry for that,” you whispered, fresh tears spilling over. “And for what you saw.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rafe said firmly, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and the sobs came harder now, wracking your body. Rafe didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “I’ve got you. I promise.”

After what felt like an eternity, your tears began to subside. You pulled back slightly, embarrassed by the mess you’d made of his shirt. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your face.

Rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. This shirt was ugly anyway.”

The small attempt at humor made you smile, even if it was faint. He stood, helping you to your feet, his hand steadying you as you wavered.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze searching for yours.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure. “I just… need a minute. Is that okay?”

Rafe hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave you alone. But after a moment, he nodded. “Alright… Take all the time you need. I’ll be right outside.”

As he stepped toward the door, you felt a pang of guilt. “Rafe?”

He turned back, his expression softening.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “For… this.”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“Are you serious right now?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, cutting through the murmur of conversation like a knife. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Rafe—” Ward started, but his son didn’t let him finish.

“No, you listen to me,” he snapped, his anger palpable. “If you ever talk to her like that, we’re done. I mean it.”

Your heart stopped, and you moved closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“Rafe, calm down,” Rose’s voice said, her tone exasperated.

“No,” Rafe snapped. “I’m not calming down. Do you have any idea what you just did? What your comments did to her?”

There was a beat of silence before Ward spoke, his tone dismissive. “It was just a harmless observation. She’s a grown woman. She can handle it.”

“Harmless?” Rafe’s voice rose, trembling with fury. “You don’t know the first thing about her, and you sure as hell don’t get to say shit like that to her ever again.”

“Rafe—”

“No,” he cut Ward off, his voice firm and unyielding. “You don’t get to do this. Not to her. If you can’t show her some respect for once in your life, then don’t bother talking to her at all.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Your chest tightened, a swell of emotions rising as you listened to him defend you with such ferocity. For all his cocky bravado and sarcastic quips, Rafe had just shown you a side of himself you hadn’t expected.

A side that cared.

A side that would fight for you.

You stepped back, went back to the bathroom, giving him space to finish the conversation. But as you stood there, a small, genuine smile broke across your face.

When Rafe returned to the bathroom, his shoulders were tense, but his eyes softened when they landed on you. “Hey,” he said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry if I took too long,” he said, sitting beside you on the floor. “I had to take care of some—.”

“I heard you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me?” his brows furrowed. “Heard what?”

“What you said. To them. Ward and Rose.”

“Oh…” his eyes widened. “I’m sorry if you think I stepped a line. It just really pissed me off what they said about you and thought that if you were going to see them again, they should know their li—”

“You don’t need to apologize, Cameron,” you interrupted, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips, the sound easing the tension in his shoulders. “Thank you, though…”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside the room fell away. “Of course.”

He stood and extended a hand to you, palm open and steady. You hesitated for the briefest moment, not because you didn’t want to take it but because the gesture felt like more than it was. When your hand slipped into his, his fingers closed around yours.

You stood, brushing invisible creases from your saree and adjusting the edges with nervous precision. Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, watching the delicate way your fingers moved, the subtle rise and fall of your shoulders as you steadied yourself.

When you glanced up at him, offering a soft, grateful smile, something in his chest tightened, and he knew he was done for.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you said, your voice stronger now.

He nodded, but as you turned toward the door, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, even if you wouldn’t hear it. “You’re worth it,” he whispered, the words low and raw, like they’d been pulled straight from his heart.

He stood there, hand still tingling from where yours had been, a storm of emotions churning inside him. His mind raced, his heart pounded, and every inch of him felt consumed by something he wasn’t ready to name.

chapter eleven.

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 10 - Three of Cups

summary : you are invited to a masquerade, and between battling to find a decent dress and the expectations of conducting oneself in high society, you manage to pull it off

content warnings : masquerade shit idk, reader putting men back in their places because duh, for reference here are the link to reader (the pic on the right) and viktor's outfit for the masquerade (art made by me)

word count : 8,5k

author's note : omygoodness, i’m so dubious about this chapter. i could NOT not give viktor some khôl sexy eyes okay. i just did and i don't regret it. also!!! i moved the taglist down the doc now hehe

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here

"Really now?"

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your head barely visible above a fluorescent orange collar with multiple layers piling up on top of each other like lasagna.

Who would have thought that finding a dress was such a long and difficult job?

You'd already been in a few shops in Piltover for a good hour each. You'd been going from boutique to boutique for nearly three hours already, and you were beginning to lose hope about the possibilities open to you regarding your outfit.

Tonight was the gala, and you still hadn't found a dress. You'd probably imagined that the matter would be sorted out quickly. That, by some miracle or other, you would find a dress that was chic and presentable enough to wear to a masquerade.

But the clock was ticking, while your search continued unabated. Sélène and Sky had both come to accompany you, and the two of them had enough in common that the teacher-student barrier was forgotten and she just saw her as a friendly aunt.

Sélène had this extraordinary ability to always be open, to see everyone as an equal, no matter what their age or background was. It was an immense and admirable quality, coupled with her extraordinary patience to hold out and persevere in finding you a superb evening outfit.

You had tried on so many dresses that you thought you could now recognise every possible material a dress could be made of. You'd tried silk and velvet, pleats of tulle or organza, all sorts of cuts that made you look either too invested in this evening or far too casual.

You knew that, once you entered the gala hall, it would be an arena. A constant battle of eyes tearing at the others, comments on their appearances, their words - passive-aggressive phrases disguised as condescending benevolence. 

You could understand why Jayce didn't want to face such a world, always so hungry for crumbs that left stomachs screaming to invent new words and cover the world with a layer of sneaky ridicule.

Speaking of ridiculous, the outfit you were now wearing completed the criteria. 

You turned to Sky and Selene who, with a knowing glance, sighed in turn. You returned to the cabin, removing the dress and putting on your clothes again with annoyance.

"Maybe I should just tell Jayce I can't make it," you concluded as you left the cabin.

"No way in hell," chuckled Selene.

"Maybe we should try the other side of the river?" Sky suggested, after seeing that there was no one around to overhear.

Zaun owned huge dressmaking houses, however they clashed with Piltover’s aesthetic. If word got out that one of the guests at this prestigious gala was wearing couture from the enemy city... you didn't know what that would do to your reputation and the strings that would be pulled to constrain you in your aims.

"No," replied Selene, her eyes fixed on you as a flash of lucidity seemed to cross her mind. She gave you both a wise smile. "There's still a wardrobe in Piltover where you'll probably be able to find something."

She then turned to Sky, offering her a charming smile and taking both her hands, squeezing them gratefully.

"Sky sweetheart, I'll be taking over from now on. I thank you immensely for your time and your very pleasant company." She turned to you for a moment. "Dear, give me one of those tickets Jayce gave you."

You complied, handing her one of the tickets still looking crisply printed, which she handed to Sky.

"Go on a little shopping trip and get yourself some treats. You've earned it."

Sky looked deeply surprised, exchanging a glance with you for a moment as you shrugged, equally confused.

Selene turned to you. "As for us, we've got some real archaeological work to do."

The two of you returned to Selene's flat as Sky had left, exchanging one last minute and promising to tell each other absolutely everything once you got back from the Gala.

"What card did you draw today?" she asked as she opened the door to her dressing room.

You watched as she grabbed a small stepladder. "Three of Cups."

"Aha," she smiled as she climbed onto it, scanning the shelves above, "the cards know about this little soirée."

The little booklet was starting to feel a lot more familiar now: Joy shared with others. Friendship and celebration. The expression of love and warm feelings.

It all seemed very positive, you thought, as you continued to read the page. The Cups reflect the sacred triad of creativity and growth. This card reminds you to share with others. Empowering others increases your happiness, health and wealth. Surround yourself with people who uplift you.

Talk about elevation, you'd find yourself surrounded on all sides by aristocrats and other big heads, where the only level that could rise would be that of clever condescension camouflaged under dishonest smiles.

Selene's graceful hands, full of rings, clutched a large black leather suitcase. She blew on it, a cloud of dust rising into the air as she passed it to you.

“What's this?” you questioned as you picked it up, its weight comfortable in your arms as you observed the trunk.

She bent down to grab the handle of a second briefcase, brown and with the varnish starting to peel off the corners. 

"I was around your age when I started getting invited to Galas and other balls of the sort." She descended the small steps of the stepladder, facing you. "I kept all the dresses that some men had offered me."

You smiled, amazed and surprised. "Offered?"

Selene giggled, kneeling on the ground as you did the same.

"They offered me drinks, and the drinks went to the bed, and from the bed came enough adoration that I have to my credit two or three divorces in which I am the centre of the affair." She sighed as she undid the two golden buckles guarding the sealed chest. "They covered me with jewels," your eyes passed over her hands again, "flowers, and on special occasions, dresses."

She opened it, and your lips parted at the beauty of its contents. She pinched an emerald-green piece of fabric, lifting its heavy velvet into the air before you and revealing a winter dress all embroidered with carmine and obsidian stones, dripping like blood.

Another slipped through her fingers, a summer dress in a fine, peachy pink, its sleeves made of organza embroidered with gold embellishments.

Another made you open your mouth until your jaw hit the floor. A long golden dress, with a loose neckline reaching down to just above her navel, while the bare back almost reached her sacrum.

"You wore that?" you almost choked out.

She smiled, raising her eyebrows. "Some of them wanted to uncover me more than cover me."

You laughed softly, opening the black trunk in your lap. The glitter of a black sequined dress was immediately reflected on your skin.

"These are all so beautiful..." you said almost absently, your hand running through the fabric.

The thought then occurred to you that you were going to wear something so expensive and beautiful tonight, but you felt almost unworthy to have any of these dresses on your skin. You were first in the Academy, of course. And you had worked hard to get there. But a masquerade that would surely be attended by all the most important people in Piltover was no mean feat.

"Now," Selene broke through your incessant internal doubts, clutching the first dress that came her way, "let's see how beautiful you look in them."

You smiled softly at her, shyly accepting the piece of art as she stepped out of the dressing room and gave you time to change. 

You held the fabric close to you, the sequins reflecting off your hands as your eyes tried to visualise you wearing that same dress tonight. I must be perfect, you thought.

As you began undressing to put on the dress, a reflection caught your eye. Your attention was drawn to a dark patch peeking out from under an old pink dress.

Drawn in, intrigued, you gently pinched the shoulder of the dress to discover the one hidden beneath. A soft, violet fabric, approaching a dark blue, gleamed in the light from the ceiling, lines of small blue and black stones streaking it from top to bottom.

Purple, you thought, the conversation from the day you visited the museum coming back to mind.

You took the dress in your hands, rising up and letting it unfurl like a waterfall at night. The fabric seemed magical, shimmering like stars on water, glistening like the moon on snow. The neckline ran from around the neck in a V-shape to the centre of the valley of your breasts, a dark, almost black bodice hugging the waist while the skirt came down to the feet. The shoulders were covered, the sleeves parting loosely halfway down the arm until they met at gold bracelets around the wrist.

It was sublimely elegant, dark and mysterious, perfect for a masquerade. You carefully replaced the dress Selene had originally given you in the suitcase, and slipped it on. The fabric was soft against your skin, a slight reassuring weight on your shoulders as the bracelets closed around your wrists with ease. You felt neither too tight nor too loose – a perfect balance. 

Maybe purple wasn't such a bad colour after all.

"So?" called Selene from outside. 

You inhaled, hesitantly opening the dressing room door. Selene was at her vanity, looking in her drawers for the few palettes that might embellish your eyes. She looked away from her search, resting her eyes on you, and her gaze softened.

"Where did you get this one?" you asked, your finger pinching the skirt gently as you gazed at the stones glinting softly in the light.

She moved towards you, tender, as a thin smile stretched her lips, gazing wistfully at the dress on you.

"It was given to me..." her hand came to rest on one of your shoulders, sliding down your arm, "by a man I loved."

"You loved?" you repeated in wonder.

"Mhm," she hummed, her hand reaching for the gold bracelet, index and middle fingers together as if to trace its pulse. She seemed to come back to reality, regaining your eyes. "I'm glad you're wearing it."

She then turned her head to the mirror on her dressing table, taking your wrist gently and pulling it so that you came to sit in front of it. In your reflection, the dress looked stunning, highlighting your figure to perfection and lighting you up.

Selene then picked up a black circular mask, hanging over the mirror.

"Now," she brought the mask up to your face, placing it to make sure it would fit, "it's time for the world to figure out how to resist you."

Your heart was pounding as the music came closer to your ears and your heels echoed in the huge hallway you were walking through.

Selene had done your make-up after you'd showered, spending a good while on your eyes, since they and your lips would be the main attractions. She fixed your hair, gave you a few accessories and found a pair of heels in your size.

You made your way to the masquerade building without much trouble, the cool night air calming the heat in your cheeks. And now that you'd reached the big ballroom, your heart was starting to race in your chest.

What if you stumbled and made a fool of yourself? What if you said something wrong that didn't fit in with high society etiquette? What if you made a mistake?

You tried to breathe, to calm yourself down, to not assume that you were going to fail no matter what. You were the top of the Academy, after all, and defeat feared you. You thought about all the possibilities, and resigned yourself first of all to finding Jayce, who was probably just as lost and scared as you were.

You took one last breath, and turned into the chamber with your head held high.

The room had a high ceiling from which modern crystal chandeliers shone, illuminating the space where all sorts of silhouettes mingled. Some were standing by banqueting tables piled high with petits fours and amuse-bouches, while others were forming clusters of discussion groups, each carrying a champagne flute.

Do as they do, you thought, on the lookout for a waiter who might pass not far from you. With great luck, a charming butler came towards you as if a radar for people without champagne flutes had been grafted onto his eyes. 

You took one, offering him a polite smile. As he prepared to leave, already looking for new people to please, you thought hesitantly to ask him if he'd seen Jayce Talis. But you stopped yourself, instead bringing the drink to your lips to prevent making a fool of yourself. You were in a masquerade, the very principle of which was the doubt and mystery of those with whom you were sharing a discussion.

Fortunately for you, however, you knew Jayce well enough to recognise him in a crowd. Had Viktor even arrived? You had no idea. Perhaps you were alone here, a shrimp trying to pretend to be a shark when an ocean of danger could bring a deadly current at any moment.

You looked around the room a little more closely. On either side, pillars of white marble rose up to a vaulted ceiling covered with superb frescoes. The floor was almost a mirror of it because of its intensive polishing, the black and white tiles creating intricate rosettes which you could no doubt start counting if the evening ever got too boring for your liking. At the far end of the room, three huge windows, almost embedded in the domed ceiling, let you discover the night and its mysteries. There was even a small band playing a steady stream of classical music, much to the delight of everyone it appeared.

The setting was magnificent, the scents of expensive foods and fragrances mingling almost to the point of suffocation. Everyone was wearing quite different colours, but the majority were still in Piltover's gold and white.

Finally your eyes found Jayce, dressed in the colours of his house. It's all about subtlety, you thought as you walked towards him. You hoped that by some miracle he would turn his head towards you and recognise you, so that you wouldn't have to worry about interrupting a conversation.

Alas, he did not. You walked towards them, a sentence ending as you arrived.

"I thought I'd never find you," you said, Jayce and his chatting companion both turning to face you. 

Jayce looked confused for a moment, frowning and hoping he wasn't a complete idiot.

"Do I know y..." You feared the worst when a flash of genius crossed his eyes. "Oh it's you!"

Your shoulders relaxed as the stress subsided.

"I almost didn't recognise you," he admitted, apparently taken aback by your outfit. He turned for a moment to his conversation companion. "If you'll excuse us."

The latter nodded politely as you and Jayce walked away, along one of the buffet tables.

"This place is terrifying," you started, your eyes going around the room as you noticed a few glances being on you relentlessly.

Jayce shrugged, grabbing an appetiser that looked far too sophisticated for you and Sky to be lucky enough to find in the corner shop. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be," he said with his mouth full.

"That's because you're a social butterfly, Jayce," you remarked, your stare stretching across the room as a few eyes rested on you and smiled in what looked like an attempt at flirting from a distance for some. "You're the sunlight of this room."

He stopped chewing for a moment, looking at you with big eyes. "That's probably the nicest thing you ever said to me."

"It's not that complicated - all of them look like they were dipped in wax and can barely crack an actual smile."

"I take that back," he sighed, swallowing his bite.

You turned your attention back to the buffet, plates probably costing more than your salary, containing all sorts of arrangements mixing puff pastas and all sorts of garnishes.

You ventured to take one, exhaling a hum of relief as the taste was absolutely divine. Perhaps you'll be staying near the food this evening? The advantage with them at least was that you didn't risk having to talk yourself to sleep.

"So," you licked your fingers, "will you introduce us to your girlfriend?"

He sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Chances are she'll find you before I find her,” he mumbled, his eyes roaming the room in search of the aforementioned lady. "She's in her element here, but I think you'll recognise her once she comes to you."

You'd seen Mel Medarda before. Selene, who had a metaphorical place on the council, used to take you along from time to time when public meetings such as trials took place. You knew each of the councillors, like most of the people in Piltover, and would no doubt recognise them if the occasion arose.

Mel Medarda, sumptuous woman that she was, had left her mark on you in her beauty, her eloquence and her generosity. You hoped to honour your memory and her greatness by recognising her this evening.

"Is Viktor here with you?" you asked, curiosity winning out over silence.

"Yes," he smiled, raising his eyebrows, "I think he managed to temporarily escape to the toilets."

You brought your champagne flute to your lips. "Smart man."

From across the room, a guest raised her flute to Jayce. 

"Duty calls," Jayce confirmed as he rubbed his hand off of any crust before placing his hand on your shoulder, "don't sweat it in here, just... mingle."

And with that, he left, leaving you at the mercy of a world you despised.

You looked at the dishes, taking a second one in your hand so as not to stand there like another statue in the background. You took a few steps out of sight, trying to savour what little quiet and time you had on your own before anyone requested your attention.

"That is quite an unfamiliar silhouette that I meet."

You turned, your eyes landing on a young woman covered in a dress combining saturnine white, black and gold. 

Mel Medarda.

In her long dress with a skirt slit up her thighs, she looked like an elegant bottle of poison, an addictive elixir that gave you the serenity and comfort of knowing you were in control and that you had someone to talk to if any worries arose.

She had a mouth shaped like a chameleon, ready to take any shape or colour that might interest or uninterest her auditor. Her dark lips quirked into a smile as her eyes crinkled, all covered in gold and dark glitter. There was power in her grin as she moved forward, murmuring I've got lies so handsome you'll never want to believe the Truth, and that would make her jealous. I've got excuses so beautiful you'll want me to betray you to listen to them, so powerful you'll forgive me anything. 

She was the fiercest shark in the pond, and she was coming towards you.

"Councillor," you raised your flute in introduction, trying to gain the same calm and consistency of diplomatic discussions, "I don't think we ever officially met before."

She sighed as she came up to you, shaking her head. "Let us drop the formalities – you're not going in for a discussion joust with me."

You looked startled, Mel dropping her shoulders.

“I know you're a friend of Jayce and Viktor, you're not a part of any of..." she described a graceful circle in the air with her flute, "them."

You relaxed a little. ‘Thank the Hells, I thought I'd have to behave myself and have conversations about a multi-polarised conflict of international importance, or anything of the sort."

She smiled at you, all charming. She was young, if not the same age as you. So how did she go about her day-to-day life, pushing herself to act like an adult whose shoulders bore the weight of big, heavy decisions?

"To simplicity," she toasted.

You raised your flute to hers before taking a sip. Its contents were beginning to dwindle already.

"How did you and Jayce meet?" she asked after her own swig.

"Two years ago, when I first started at the Academy, I was transferred to his class after three months."

"Really? For what reason?" she inquired.

You shrugged. "I'd made enough progress on my year's programme that they were considering moving me to another class. Skipped two classes in my life," you smiled. 

"I'm beginning to understand why you're in first place in the rankings," she nodded, arching an eyebrow.

"Determination can take you a long way," you confirmed. "Jayce passed me the notes of the classes he'd taken since the beginning of the year, and wire by wire the title of classmate blurred into friend."

You thought back for a moment to the afternoons you'd spent poring over Jayce's notes, the question marks he'd drawn over and over again on his papers that you'd ended up completing for him. And when the weekends came and he came to see you at the café, he'd always wait until you had your break to talk about anything and everything with you.

“How about you?” you asked in return. “Haven't had many times this year to sit down and talk with him about his life, but I do want to know about you.”

“What don't you know?” she smiled. “The advantage of advisors is that a lot of their lives are biographed and catalogued.”

“Lucky then that I get to talk to a human being and not a pile of dead leaves,” you remarked.

She nodded gently before tilting her head to one side in consideration.

“I met Jayce after his trial. We had a long discussion and reconsidered his sentence after sharing it with the council. Since then, I've helped finance some of his projects, and the line between the professional and the romantic has blurred.”

“You're sure he's a good boyfriend, aren't you?” you inquired, ”if I find out he's not buying you a bouquet of flowers every week I may well have to perform an urgent intervention to educate him on the subject.”

She laughed softly, amused by your enthusiasm for making sure he was beyond reproach.

“No lesson needed, I assure you,” she confirmed, turning to the rest of the room and making a very subtle gesture with her hand for a butler to come and serve you both again. “How are you enjoying the night so far?”

“Well,” you sighed, ”I haven't made myself any new enemies so that's a good sign. You?”

“I think that if I hear another conversation about a love affair with a 62-year-old priest or a thesis on predictive models of pluripotent stem cell susceptibility, one of these drinks will end up poisoned by the end of the evening,” the butler reached you and poured you a refill, Mel smiling at him. “Thank you.”

She turned back to you.

“You are my breath of fresh air of the evening.” Her eyes drifted over your form for a moment, intrigued. “That's quite a lovely dress, by the way - I haven't seen such garments around here. Where did you find it?” she inquired as she pinched the fabric of one of your sleeves between her long fingers.

“Oh, my mother gave it to me,” you replied, pleasantly surprised that you could talk so calmly and simply without any pressure. “You probably know of Selene?”

Her eyes returned to yours. “Selene? Selene Phathe?”

You nodded, her lip stretching to the side. 

“I wasn't aware she had a daughter.” she remarked. 

“She has many children,” you smiled. “I'm her legal daughter.”

Selene had always had something very maternal, but had inherited the bitterness of infertility. Any child or young person she came across and helped became a bit like her spiritual children, and you knew your siblings were in good hands.

“I see,” Mel said, offering an understanding smile. “I ask her from time to time for readings and such. Everything she's shared with me has turned out to be true. I was quite skeptical about being carried away by such a science, but she managed to convince me of her certainty.”

“Started reading Tarot myself after a few years of getting readings, it's... startling how accurate they are.”

“Truly?” She pressed her shoulder against yours, “you'll have to come visit me to give me a reading someday.” She smiled. “And inform me of any of Jayce's mischief if he ever does any, I'll be sure to correct him on that matter.”

You raised your then-full flute, all smiles. “I'll drink to that.”

She returned the smile, taking a sip before her eyes found those of another guest in the room and she sighed.

“If you'll excuse me, I think I have another boring conversation to attend to.”

“Good luck - you have my support from afar,” you encouraged her as she gracefully made her way to the designated person.

Your eyes then roamed the room again, observing the few outfits the guests were wearing and all the high heels worn by the women who must have been killing their feet... But your eyes found the end of a cane, a cane you knew all too well and which almost appeared in your horizon like a real lifeline in this troubled sea.

You moved forward, your eyes still lowered on the end of the cane as someone blocked your field of vision and you bumped them. 

“I'm sorry,” you uttered immediately, checking to make sure your champagne hadn't spilled as your eyes darted back to the masked ones of-

Tyler?

The fool's blond curls had been partially combed back with gel, his scarlet mask matched by a suit in Councilman Hoskel's colors: Black, Red and Gold.

He frowned, his eyes watching you completely before he realized where he knew that voice from.

“You?” he pronounced with as much disgust, shock and surprise mingling in his voice.

“Equally pleased, Tyler,” you grumbled, moving to extricate yourself from the situation when he grabbed your arm.

Your eyes immediately landed on where his hand was, moving slowly until they found his. How dare he even touch that fabric?

“What are you doing here?” he questioned, still not letting go of your arm.

“Got the invite for the biggest bastard competition, but it's just my luck that you got here. Now I can't win it, so if you'll excuse me-” you tugged again but Tyler kept his grip firm.

“How the hell did you get in there, huh?”

“Through the door, like everyone else. Can you let me go?”

“Where did you get such an empyreal dress?”

“Oh, you learned a new word.”

“It's Talis, isn't it?” He chuckled, finding the situation pitiful. “Thought he could just let you in like this?”

“Did your mother throw the baby away to raise the placenta? I was invited by merit, unlike you,” you almost spat at him. “Now let go of me.”

“Say please, and I'll consider it.”

“Tyler, I'm going to make you soluble so I can dilute you in my piss and dispense you into every flute in this room,” you threatened. “Let go of me.”

He nodded. “That's not how please is pronounced.”

“Her? Saying please, to you?”

You both turned toward the voice that had just spoken to you, the accent now inscribed in your ears.

Viktor.

Your breath seemed to almost supernaturally halt as your eyes fell on him. A purple, almost black velvet coat sat on his shoulders, the collar of his pierced shirt from which golden chain ornaments dangled, reached down to his vest, which elegantly outlined his waist. His black pants, flowing harmoniously down to his ankles, led to perfectly polished black shoes.

As your gaze returned to his face, your eyes locked on his, whose eyelids, beneath his mask of purple velvet and gold, were covered with a layer of kohl. His amber eyes possessed something mystical, mysterious and powerful.

“You too?" huffed Tyler. "It's an epidemic.” 

“Tyler, I believe the Miss asked you politely to leave her alone. I suppose you wouldn't want any rumors to get out about the Hoskel heir and some of his violent behaviours,” Viktor remarked.

Tyler's eyes darted around the room, most of the masked faces turned towards him while many murmured unintelligible things as they watched the scene. His gaze reached yours again, one corner of his lips rising in annoyance as he finally let go of your arm.

“What's vermin like you doing here?” he asked, teeth clenched.

“We've been officially invited,” Viktor marked. “The efforts of the two top-ranking Academy students that we are have therefore been given the opportunity of such an evening to solidify diplomatic ties, with the hope later of obtaining alliances useful to our projects for the common good.”

You had no idea how quickly Viktor had combined all these justifications to give him an air of credibility. The possibility then occurred to you that Jayce and Viktor, before they came here, had probably rehearsed many times what they had to say in case fools like Tyler found themselves playing the curious.

“The standards have obviously gone down,” Tyler chuckled.

“Tell me about it,” you replied, looking at him almost apologetically, as if just seeing him made you feel sorry for him, so worn out was the little that served as his brain.

“Dearest Nephew!” Bombarded a voice.

Councillor Hoskel himself, then accompanied by what you recognized as Councillor Salo, strode towards your merry little group.

“It seems you have never mentioned such a beauty to be part of your acquaintances.” 

The latter's eyes roamed over your figure as his tongue ran over his teeth. The figure was repulsive, one of his ridiculously thin arms against the enormity of his round beer belly nudging Tyler to make the introductions.

“Um,” he suddenly seemed to have lost his good-for-nothing tongue.

“Revealing our identity at a masquerade would defy the very principle of it,” Viktor sighed, exchanging a glance with you.

You had to play along, take on the etiquette of the discussion for an evening. “Exactly,” you declared with a tense smile that you offered to the trio of troublemakers.

“Is this your date?” Hoskel pointed, his slender finger unwinding from his flute to point at Viktor.

“Pardon?” you questioned, close to choking on your own spit.

“For tonight, is this young man your date?” he corrected. “Unless fate has miraculously brought you together with stylists,” he remarked with a greasy laugh.

Exchanging glances with Viktor and your two outfits, it was almost impossible not to notice the fact that, subconsciously, you'd been matching. Anyone seeing you side by side like that might have wondered about it, and the thought brought what you presumed was shame to your cheeks.

“Oh, no,” you laughed nervously. “Sorry, I did not understand.”

He shrugged and nodded arrogantly. “It's normal, pretty and intelligent is rare.”

You suppressed the urge to throw the contents of your flute in his face, given that he himself seemed not to be on his first one for a while now, and decided instead to play in his own court. “Yes, when ugly and stupid is quite common.” 

Tyler's gaze narrowed as much as his uncle's and Councillor Salo's as Viktor lowered his head, a small smile spreading across his lips as he glanced at you from the side.

“Funny,” Hoskel struck a slight pose as he watched you, ”how being behind a mask gives you wings.”

You raised your chin, squinting your eyes as if looking down on him. “Funny how multiplying champagne flutes does so as well, only...” your eyes drifted to his red nose then his belly full of booze, ”one remains hidden better than the other.”

Hoskel seemed to chew air, grinding his teeth together as he grunted dully.

“My my,” Salo tilted his head down as his eyes remained on you, straightening, ”that's a sharp little one we have here with us tonight.” He cleared his throat, raising his gloved hand to point at the sky as if preparing to lecture. “Take care not to make a woman cry because gods count her tears. Whereas when a woman's up to something, the devil sits at his desk and takes notes.”

“A citation?” remarked Viktor, destitute as he was of a champagne flute while his free hand let only his thumb protrude from his pants pocket.

“From one of my books,” said Salo, proudly, resting his hand on his chest.

Viktor didn't seem any more enchanted than that to be taking part in the discussion, but no doubt had to try to find some fictional interest in all that was being told. “Do you write?”

Salo took a sip of his champagne, swallowing it quickly enough to respond with airy hand movements. “The Gods kindly offer me the first verse. What is difficult is to write the next ones which will be worthy of their supernatural brothers."

You brought your flute close to your lips. “Yes, otherwise who'd write the scripts for beggars,” you mumbled, before taking only one more sip.

Viktor huffed. Salo frowned, not seeming to have distinctly heard your words. “I beg your pardon?”

You swallowed, pressing your lips together to collect the rest of the contents of your sip. “Yes?”

“I don't think I quite heard what you said a moment ago.”

You thought you wouldn't be heard, your eyes shifting from Salo to Viktor for a moment before returning to the counselor and closing your eyes, a nervous smile spreading across your lips as you tried again to be diplomatic.

So you tried a graceful exit, shaking your head. “I think the champagne bubbles must have started their little rise, I'm thinking of getting some air to release them.” Just before leaving, you repeated the formula you'd heard so many times this evening. “If you'll excuse me.”

You looked at them one last time, lingering a moment longer on Viktor's gaze as you left for one of the balconies.

The night air bit into your cheeks like apples, the winter coolness slapping you in sharp contrast to the warmth inside. The cool air filled your lungs and you thought for a moment you'd end up frozen from the inside out. There was no wind, just the muted calm of the cold and the murmur of the city below.

You stepped forward, placing your glass on the edge of the balcony. You didn't care if it fell, if it flew away, if a pigeon shat in it. The mere fact that the crystal of this flute had touched the lips of so many people who had destroyed so much hope for your own made you want to grab it by its stem yourself and send it waltzing off to the stars.

You brought your hands to your arms, as much to prevent yourself from needlessly accessing this hatred as to gain warmth. Your eyes watched the horizon, the lights of Piltover in every window. How many knew what their consumption was bringing from the other end of the river? Your gaze drifted towards the latter, the lights much dimmer as they gleamed from the very bowels of the city. You thought back to Eris's letter for a moment, but what did she want to talk to you about? 

Your hips touched the guardrail, your fingers running over Tyler's previous grip as if to dust off any DNA that had settled there. It was a good thing Viktor had arrived, or Tyler's nose would surely have had a few stitches.

A warmth rose in the back of your neck, familiar from Viktor's breath when he'd saved you from a nasty fall in the library. He'd gone ahead and helped you. There seemed to be this mutual recognition, this acceptance that, whatever happened, you were there to take the lead from each other. 

Your hand instinctively went to the back of your neck, trying to banish this feeling, or to recover it on your fingers in the hope of getting a little warm comfort. Was this a reaction to the trauma of his presence? Surely it could be, unless shame had crept under your skin and lingered there. 

You drew your fingers up slightly until you found the string of your mask, undoing it and letting the fresh air spread over your face.

The distinct tinkle of a cane snapped you out of your thoughts, and you didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.

“You've left me in the lurch of a thorny conversation.” he said, his voice warm in the night air as he approached you, staying a reasonable distance to your left.

You sketched a smile, not yet turning towards him as you watched a fictitious dot in the distance. “What were they discussing?”

You felt him remove his mask, dropping the loop of black ribbon holding it to dangle from the handle of his cane. “I left as soon as they'd mentioned the matter of therapeutic obstinacy.” 

“A discussion like that should have had you hanging on to their every word,” you joked, finally turning your head towards him.

The prince of the night offered you his profile, his darkened eyes watching the horizon in the distance. He had a presence that froze you, a power so strong that it held you in place. You felt worthy of being the rival of a man like him. But were you still assuming this title?

“I think I'll let Tyler take it from here,” he smiled softly, turning to you.

His amber eyes planted themselves in yours, and you only managed to support it for a few seconds before your eyes drifted to his shoulders.

“You...” you breathed in, observing his elegant, sophisticated outfit, ”you look nice.”

He parted his lips, tilting his head slightly to one side as he squinted with a slight smile.

“Was that a compliment, miss?” he questioned.

“Don't get used to it,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, then reaching for your champagne flute, ”this is a special occasion after all.”

You brought your drink to your lips, the sensation of champagne making you feel a little freer, a little lighter and able to loosen your tongue to say or accept things you'd normally refuse.

You could feel his gaze on you in your peripheral vision, skirting the length of your body, your back illuminated by the interior of the room while the rest of your dress looked like a piece cut straight from the night that embraced you.

“That colour,” he began, his gaze drifting back to the horizon, ”it suits you.”

You thought back to what he'd said what seemed like an eternity ago. ‘It's beautiful, it's calm, in lavender as well as plum, in cassis as well as grape, in wisteria as well as... whatever, it's the one I prefer.’

It's the one I prefer.

You tried not to dwell on that thought, to move on.

“Who'd have thought Tyler would come all this way to bother us?” you huffed.

Viktor chuckled lightly. “He can't get enough of us.”

“I've rarely seen anyone scrape so deep into the depths of incompetence.”

“I believe you've met his uncle, though,” Viktor remarked. “And he, so far, holds a place on the Piltover council.”

“I guess it runs in the family to fall victim to one's own mediocrity.”

“And you had the gift of reminding them of it.”

You smiled, regaining his gaze for a moment. “Don't tell me you didn't want to either.”

He shrugged, pretending to think about it. “Yes, although I must applaud the success of your execution.”

“Would that be a compliment, Moravec?” you stressed.

He earned your gaze, eyes crinkled with a slight sneer. “Like you said - this is a special occasion after all.”

You nodded, shaking your head as if it were a song you'd heard too many times already.

A moment of silence passed, a slight quiver taking hold of you as the hour advanced and the air grew fresher and fresher.

“I've been thinking about the clauses for our truce.”

You turned towards him, arms again crossed as if to hold any ounce of warmth close to your body.

You smirked, grabbing your flute as if to help you listen to him and make those decisions.

“I'm listening.”

“Firstly,” he began, ”we shan't have any rivalry that doesn't engender some obsession pushing us into critical health situations.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was a one-time thing-”

“That is my first clause,” he cut in, his kohl-rimmed eyes insisting on the fact. “Second, mutual aid. If one of us experiences a difficulty somewhere, they must share it with the other, no matter how big their ego and pride.”

“Well that's going to be easy,” you sighed, pressing the crown of your flute close to your lower lip.

“Thirdly,” Viktor straightened up, tilting his head slightly forward as if in a short bow, ”let's be friends.”

You pressed your lips together, considering the offer truly.

Was there even a downside to becoming friends with Viktor? Besides the fact that you had to question your animosity towards him since the beginning of the year, what were the pros and cons?

Sure, he could get on your nerves in discussions, but it had been ages since you'd tried your hand at verbal jousting so constantly, and you were beginning to get used to it. 

But apart from that, he wasn't a threat, he was inclined towards progress and advancement rather than stagnation and stubbornness, and he'd already considered you friends for a while, if you went back to Agrane's attribution of detention where he'd wished to come to your defense.

Besides, he was from Zaun - few students here could say as much and understand you on certain points.

“Agreed,” you replied, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “But be careful, don't expect me to hop like a flower around you.” You huffed. “Jayce has already had to chase me around for quite a while before I'd officially consider him a friend.”

He shrugged, pressing his lips together slightly as if indifferent.

“That's fine by me. Fourthly,” he continued, ”clauses can be added in the future. Of course, they won't be imposed and can be discussed.”

You arch an eyebrow, huffing. “Do you have many more clauses?

“Do you agree to this one?” he asked, frowning.

You looked at him for a moment. This seemed to be very close to his heart. “Yes.”

“Good.” he smiled.

“Is that all?”

His eyes trailed over your shoulders for a moment. “Just one last one.”

He set his cane down against the marble railing, unclipping one of the pins that held the chain holding his coat to his back. He pinched the shoulders of it, taking a single step towards you to place it on yours, pressing his hands lightly on them as you felt the warmth his back had spread over the fabric against your own. He took care, with his long, slender, cool fingers, to reattach the chain neatly.

“My last clause for tonight is for you not to get cold,” he said, his voice more tender as he took a step back as if to observe the vision you were. “Luckily, we wore the same color.”

You took one of the sides in your hands, bringing it close to you to cover yourself with it.

“Won't you get cold?” you asked. 

He shrugged, regaining the grip of his cane as his eyes remained on your coat-covered figure. “If you think Jayce won't get rid of his coat at some point this evening, you're wrong.”

You crack a smile, wondering what would happen if Jayce overindulged in champagne and Viktor had to go home with him tonight. Unless, of course, Jayce and Mel ended the evening together. He slipped on his mask again, replacing it gracefully over his features.

Viktor was getting ready to go back inside, and you didn't know if the magic of champagne bubbles was making you say things, or if out of sheer urge you were calling him.

“Viktor?”

He turned to you for a moment, one part of his face bathed in the warm light of the interior while the other remained in the night like a crescent moon.

You parted your lips, the simple two words coming pouring out without doubt or regret. 

“Thank you.”

He seemed amazed, even with his mask over his face. But the astonishment quickly gave way to a softening, until his lips stretched into a smile and he stepped back inside.

Some people won't get any magic words out of you, but Viktor was worthy of them. You brought the collar of his coat close to you. His scent was sweeter than you'd expected, that of sun-warmed stone mingling with a lingering coffee fragrance.

Your eyes returned to the city, the vision of his kingdom, of streets he would split with his cane to hit the color purple on their cream walls.

It's the one I prefer.

The evening had come to an end. You had tried to fit into some of the conversation circles that came and went as time went by, remaining mostly silent and listening without interjecting, laughing when they laughed, nodding when they nodded, and trying not to simply stuff yourself with petits fours.

You'd thought of finding a way to take a handful with you so you'd have a little variety to bring back to give Sky a taste of how the evening was going. But you expected that, of course, you'd be looked at strangely for this behavior if you went through with it.

Some of the guests began to leave one by one, and you took the opportunity to do the same. Jayce, Mel and Viktor seemed nowhere to be found, so you dropped the idea of venturing into such a building in search of them. Who knows what you might stumble upon in the surrounding rooms? You didn't want to accidentally walk in on the feverish one-night stands of the guests, so you just took off.

The city had been asleep for some time, and the quiet yet illuminated streets were deserted. Had it been Zaun, venturing out at such an hour of the night in such an outfit would have been worth a lot of trouble. But Piltover had real rules of respect and a very different general upbringing, so you didn't feel in any danger of advancing like that.

Your heels were starting to hurt seriously and you would have given anything to be carried home. But there was no vigilante Jayce in sight to catch you if you fainted, nor any gentleman gallant enough to carry you like a princess.

How nice it was to be looked after, to have someone take care of you simply because they could.

The memory of Viktor dozing beside you as you recovered came to mind a moment before you chased him away as you turned a corner. Viktor's scent had permeated your nostrils all evening, and it was the only familiar, reassuring thing that kept you going.

The vision of the dormitories appearing in your line of sight was the greatest relief of all.

You passed silently through the doors of the building, taking the opportunity to remove your heels and sighing at ease as the soles of your feet finally settled on a surface that didn't need to be arched.

You slowly climbed the stairs, the soft feel of the red carpet almost tickling your feet as you inserted your key into the lock. It was late, perhaps Sky had not stayed awake and had gone to bed, and you had no wish to disturb her peace.

You turned the knob, entering the still-lit apartment, Sky lying on her bed with a book. Her eyes turned to you, her mouth opening wide as she looked at your outfit, which she hadn't had a chance to see. You smiled, closing the door behind you and dropping your heels to the floor.

“Girl,” she'd chuckled, watching you as you took off the coat and folded it neatly to let it hang over your arm like a waiter's towel, ”give me a twirl.”

You performed, spinning around before finishing with an exaggerated supermodel pause that made Sky laugh.

She snapped her book shut and sat cross-legged on her bed. “I need every detail you can give me.”

You picked up a hanger in the dressing room, hanging Viktor's coat which you hoped to return in the next few days before returning to Sky and sitting down with her to tell her all about it.

She had you turning your back to her, helping you remove the few decorations in your hair as you described everything to her. The hall, the dresses, the atmosphere, all the endless discussions, your meeting with the famous Mel Medarda, your altercation with Tyler and his idiot uncle.

“In any case, you didn't miss a thing. Apart from a few exceptions, the room was filled with the heads of bankers who hadn't gotten laid for twenty years.”

She laughed softly, pausing in the unraveling of your hair, her eyes watching a point in the void.

“Doesn't it make you dream a bit?”

You turned to her, confused. “To be a banker who looks like she hasn't gotten laid in twenty years?”

“No,” she chirped, giving you a little nudge on the shoulder, ”the mystery of the masquerade, the richness of being able to organize such an event without having to worry about much?”

You rested your head on her shoulder, pondering her question for a moment. Finally, you raised your head, staring into space.

“I think I would rather spend my life close to the birds than waste my time thinking I can carve myself wings.”

Sky sighed, probably dreaming of the golden life of the princes and princesses the world inhabited and longing for more. You didn't envy them - you felt scorn for their privileges and their inability to act for change. But you had no intention of crushing your friend's hopes.

“Who knows, maybe one day you'll be one of them and laugh as you drink champagne with infinite bubbles.”

She smiled softly, wrapping an arm around you.

You didn't tell her about your discussion on the balcony with Viktor, preferring to keep your exchange a secret for the time being. perhaps you'd bring up the subject when she asked you where the dress and coat came from. 

But for now, you kept the secret of the purple close to you.

It's the one I prefer.

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