#like come on we've been through so much already

[hd-erised]

Thank you so very much to all our amazing writers, artists, pinch-hitters, readers, commenters, and reccers who once again made this fest such an amazing success!

If you haven't had time to make it through all the fantastic works here yet, we hope that you'll still read and leave some love for our writers and artists! Comments are appreciated all year round! ;) As are commenters—like you amazing readers and participants, including the phenomenal 440 people who have left an incredible total of 1898 comments on H/D Erised works this year—thank you for all you do to make this community what it is!! And a special shout-out, again, to our ever-expanding list of all-star commenters, who have commented on more than half (and sometimes way more!!) of this year’s works: blueheart_V, @sorrybutblog, khalulu, @nv-md, and veradubhghoill!! Thank you!!!

We'll be going through the works today, revealing the authors on AO3, removing the mod account as a co-author, and adding the creator names to the tumblr headers. We'll be sending the participants a wrap-up email when we've finished with all the final admin things on our end.  

Thanks again for making this another brilliant round of Erised! We hope to see you all again next year! <3 @epitomereally @honeybeet @nv-md

Art:

@elizah321 drew Brewed Awakenings for @jessixaluci [T]

@bicholsdrarrysideblog drew The Case of the Mysterious Baker for @sorrybutblog [G]

@discessio drew Ceilings. for @karamelised [M]

@threading-fate drew Us, again? for @nv-md [M]

@frm9pm drew Unemployed and On Guard for @makeitp1nk [T]

@legendrarry drew No One but Me for justlikewriting [M]

@faiell drew Stolen Glances for @dodgerkedavra [T]

@sharperthan drew Hauntingly Familiar for @moonflower-rose [T]

Fic + Art:

@fantalfart wrote & drew A Dragon to Call Mine for @annanother-thing [E, ~24,000]

Fic:

@agentmoppet wrote Where Starlight Falls for @citrusses [E, ~33,700]

The magic concealing Sirius’s Last Will and Testament doesn’t reveal the full extent of Harry’s inheritance until two years after the war. When it does, it turns out that Harry has inherited more than just the Black Family vault—he’s inherited the family’s magic, too. He just has to find it first. And he needs Draco Malfoy’s help to do it.

@sorrybutblog wrote Runaway Train for @lqtraintracks [E, ~18,100]

Harry was already keen to figure out what’s been causing a series of disturbances in the London Underground before Draco Malfoy showed up acting suspicious. Two explosions, several very confused Muggles, and a cloud of mysterious sticky powder later, Harry and Malfoy can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. Can Harry shag his way to the answer to all of his questions? Seems unlikely, but what can a man do but try?

veradubhghoill wrote At Night All Birds Are Black for IzRoan [E, ~51,800]

Harry loves being an Auror—the long hours, adrenaline-fuelled chases, and even the paperwork. But when a haunting leads to his suspension, he’s forced to continue his investigation in secret. As he unravels the murder of a young girl, he turns to the one person he never expected he’d need: Draco Malfoy.

@oknowkiss wrote The Melting Point of Wax for @vukovich [M, ~10,500]

Harry Potter is many things: captain of the Chudley Cannons, the fun uncle, a good enough friend, comfortable in the life he’s built for himself. Comfortable, that is, until a risque broom advertisement and a rumor about a fellow athlete come together to send him spiralling into the world of high-stakes broom racing, high-flying turtles, and the chaos of falling in love.

justlikewriting wrote Body and Soul for @a-sentimental-man [M, ~22,200]

When the headaches became worse and it got more and more difficult for Draco to work, he was left with no other choice but to recognise his stupid problem exactly for what it was. Even if that meant realising that the best, or perhaps even only, solution could solely come from one person: the one person he hadn’t seen for months, the one person he was still in love with. The one person who should never know. Because, clearly, Harry would never be able to give Draco what he needed anyway.

@citrusses wrote The Pain From an Old Wound for @sharperthan [T, ~31,100]

Getting hit with a mysterious blood curse is all in a day’s work for Harry Potter. Having to work with his former colleague, rival, bully, and boyfriend, is not. Harry’s not sure which is going to do him in first: the curse sucking his magic dry, or Draco Malfoy, as frustrating, condescending, and painfully attractive as he’s always been.

@lqtraintracks wrote The Most Splendid Thing for @sleepstxtic [E, ~61,200]

Star Quidditch rivals Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter become accidentally bonded. They still hate each other, but now it’s untenable to leave each other’s sides—and my, but it feels oh so good to touch. They’re either going to murder one another, or fall in love. OR: A story in which Draco finally allows himself happiness, and Harry finally learns that he deserves to be whole.

xErised wrote Borealis Green for @faiell [E, ~47,200]

Draco left Harry on the night of their first kiss, when they were eighteen. Ten years later, Harry, now Deputy Lead of the Norwegian Aurors, barges back into Draco’s life at the Ministry, seeking his help—both personal and professional—for a case, to re-capture Rodolphus Lestrange and Augustus Rookwood. Turns out that Draco couldn’t really get over Harry, either.

IzRoan wrote Don’t Fear the Reaper for @thehoneybeet [E, ~36,900]

Harry anticipates it’s Luna or maybe Hermione at Grimmauld Place, here to rouse him out of purgatorial listlessness once again. Instead, Harry finds an opinionated crow, a scroll with his name on it, and one exhaustingly persistent Draco Malfoy, who insists that Harry is his latest soul to Reap. The only problem is…Harry’s still alive. Or so he thought.  Quote: Learning how to live takes a whole life, and, which may surprise you more, it takes a whole life to learn how to die. - Seneca

@tessacrowley wrote Sub rosa for @hoko-onchi-writes [E, ~37,100]

After the tragic and unexpected death of his mother, Draco Malfoy’s quiet life as Potions Master, Head of Slytherin, and Hogwarts professor gets upended—first by the manifestation of mysterious and inexplicable magic, and then by the revelation of an inheritance deliberately hidden from him his entire life.

@thecouchsofa wrote Bare Moon Rising for xErised [E, ~15,500]

Potter moved towards him, sticking his hand out. “If that’s the case, we’re both doing it. You do the nude Tornados calendar, and I’ll do the Auror one. Most sales wins.”  Oh no.  “Are you backing out already?” Potter leaned in closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “Finally admitting that mine’s bigger than yours, then? Or do you want to cop a feel first?”  Charities could bugger off. Nothing good ever came of them, really.

@jessixaluci wrote Fighting the Chill for @bicholsdrarrysideblog [M, ~25,400]

What should have been an average and dull day for Draco Malfoy, turned rather south when he’s attacked in the middle of Diagon Alley.

@garagepaperback wrote palindrome for @threading-fate [E, ~25,800]

“Why did you let me kiss you?” Potter smirks.  “That’s not how I remember it. Why did you let me kiss you?”  “I’m stuck in a time loop. You’re not going to remember, so,” Draco’s tongue drags, calcified around the words. “Why not.”  Potter’s brows furrow but the smile stays intact. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

@amomorii wrote A Soft Place to Fall for @epitomereally [E, ~142,500]

When Harry arrives for his first year teaching at Hogwarts and is struck with a bizarre malignance, how on earth is he supposed to react when Draco Malfoy suddenly cares?

@starquestingfordrarry wrote All These Winding Threads for @amomorii [E, ~35,400]

The tides of Draco’s accidental magic pull him under and leave him gasping. There’s a hungry ache that sits deep in his bones, growing worse every day. Soon it’s all he’ll be, a starving skeleton clawing at its throat.  He needs a solution. Unfortunately, that solution looks an awful lot like Harry Potter. 

@annanother-thing wrote Second Chance Resort for @elizah321[E, ~42,800]

A holiday forced on him by his friends after the latest in a long string of failed relationships might be a chance for Harry to relax, but all that is thrown up in the air by the appearance of one newly divorced Draco Malfoy. Mainly because they had been together almost fifteen years ago before Draco broke it off to marry the woman his mother chose for him… Feat. a matchmaking hotel, a spa day, an all-knowing Weasley, and friends who do try their best, but can get a little distracted.

@jtimu wrote Seven-and-sixpence for @oknowkiss [E, ~35,700]

The entire plan of Harry’s life had been defeat evil, become an Auror, marry Ginny. Not necessarily in that order, but it seemed to be going that way, the first two managed and the third in easy limbo. He can be better, though. He can be more. Draco will see to it.

khalulu wrote Slip Slidin’ Your Way (In a Land of Fire and Ice) for @frm9pm [T, ~9,800]

How does a war-scarred young wizard recuperate and create a new identity? Harry opens himself to the magic of the land. Draco learns to wonder at the humblest of creatures. Years later, Magigeologist Evan Jameson and Malacologist Derek Black begin an enthusiastic correspondence. They’re in for a shock when they finally meet. Or: Science nerds go to Iceland and fall in love. Or: Why should kelp have all the fun?

@epitomereally wrote Pillar of Salt for @agentmoppet [E, ~62,200]

From the lake in the Room of Hidden Things, Draco knows three things: 1. Mirror universes exist, and he’s going to find the best one—the one where he did the right thing. 2. Harry Potter and him are awfully cosy in some of these other universes, whereas Potter in real life is starting to act very odd around him indeed. 3. Draco’s reflection—the mirror version of him, the worst version of him—seems to be growing crueler. And stronger.

@a-sentimental-man wrote Prescription for @fantalfart [G, ~2,600]

Draco couldn’t say he hated his job, not really. In fact, he loved it⁠—and wasn’t that something surprising, a Malfoy being a Healer, when most of them hadn’t worked a day in their lives?—and most of all, he loved knowing that he was helping people heal, above anything else. (And if there was a part of him that craved the normalcy of something that helped instead of what he had been taught to do his entire life? Well. That was between himself and his journal when he remembered to write in it.) (And maybe there was another reason too.)

@traylalascrisis wrote Old love don’t rust for @drarrydoodles [E, ~20,600]

“Why do you keep coming?” Malfoy asked at last. Harry mulled over the question. For a moment he debated trying to turn the tables and asking Malfoy the very same thing. But this time he didn’t want to hold back. “Because I can’t stop,” Harry said.

@karamelised wrote Equipoise for khalulu [T, ~88,200]

Ten years of peace have settled over the wizarding world, leaving Harry Potter feeling strangely adrift. Teaching Defense at Hogwarts is fine and all, but when mysterious magical blackouts start sweeping across the country, he can’t help but jump at the chance to investigate. It would be the perfect outlet for his restless energy - if he didn’t suddenly find himself tangled up in an elaborate charade, pretending to date the Prophet’s most illustrious journalist, Draco Malfoy. Between hunting down the cause of the blackouts and maintaining their ruse, Harry’s beginning to think that peacetime might actually be trickier - and far more surprising - than he’d bargained for.

@vukovich wrote Victory Lap for @traylalascrisis [E, ~4,700]

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat first.” For emphasis, he pinches the skin at my waist. I want to cover myself in him. I want to roll in him like a dog. I want to devolve on top of him. And he wants me to sit nicely and use a knife and fork first?

@maraudersaffair wrote My Mate for veradubhghoill [E, ~26,300]

Harry is a new Alpha and Draco is his Omega Healer. Draco wants to help Harry but Draco struggles to control himself whenever he is around. And Harry wants to breed Draco. Desperately so. Things come to a head when Draco and Harry become trapped with one another. Draco doesn’t have his suppressant and it sends them both into heat. While they wait for help, will Draco be able to avoid being claimed by Harry? Does he even want to avoid it? Harry is gorgeous and strong, and Draco would love to have him as a mate. He just can’t fathom a world where Harry Potter willingly chooses him.

@smehur wrote Just a little liquid luck for @shiftylinguini [E, ~5,400]

Tracking the movement of Potter’s eyes, Draco runs a greasy finger over the thickest of his scars. “You like them, don’t you? Pervert.” Potter tosses his head back, jostling the mass of his curly fringe from his forehead. “I bet you were into scars long before you had any of your own, Malfoy.” Yes, Draco wants to say. I want to lick yours. What he says instead is, “Fuck you.” “Fuck you,” Potter echoes, putting the same pregnant emphasis on the F. Draco bites his lower lip, wrestling down the rise of euphoria. “Your turn,” he says. “Take that off.”

@sleepstxtic wrote As Luck Would Have It for @smehur [E, ~12,800]

In Sixth-Year, Harry and Draco both win a vial of Felix Felicis from Slughorn and, under its influence, have sex in the Room of Requirement. In the aftermath, can Draco and Harry navigate their respective roles in the war, while grappling with their burgeoning feelings for each other?

@hoko-onchi-writes wrote In a Year’s Turning for @maraudersaffair [E, ~89,400]

It’s been nine years. Surely, Harry can handle Draco being back—for Teddy’s sake.

@shiftylinguini wrote Storm’s Eye for @jtimu [M, ~12,400]

Harry’s surprised that Draco didn’t have wards up preventing mortally wounded former school mates-turned-ghosted work fellows from bursting into his house. In Harry’s addled mind, this seems like a great opening line to say to Draco’s gobsmacked face. He doesn’t get that far, though.

Or: Harry gets hurt, Draco is a vanishing alchemist who may or may not be able to save the day, but under no circumstances are either of them willing to talk about Their Feelings. Well. Maybe "mortal peril" circumstances will do it, actually.

@thehoneybeet wrote housewarming for @garagepaperback [E, ~6,000]

First, they had to decide where to live. It worked, until it didn’t.

@dodgerkedavra wrote Go Up to Gilead for @tessacrowley [E, ~106,700]

Harry Potter’s sense of purpose drops dead with Voldemort. So does Draco Malfoy’s freedom. Nine years later, Harry’s still a soldier. Draco’s still a sacrifice. Harry’s going to die in his Auror uniform, and Draco doesn’t deserve to live. But when the clock runs out on Draco’s sentence, a new one starts ticking. As it was, so it will be: they’ll survive together, or not at all.

@makeitp1nk wrote do you (one) better for @legendrarry [M, ~4,200]

Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter abruptly loses his Favourite Hogwarts Professor title to none other than Potions Professor Draco Malfoy. He swears it’s fine, really, but the feelings boiling within him say otherwise. Until Poppy Longbottom, Pansy and Neville’s hellion daughter, forces Hogwarts faculty and staff to engage in a very controversial Pureblood family tradition.

@doingthechachaslide wrote Of Stolen Glass and Burning Clover for @saintgarbanzo [E, ~27,800]

A week long international conference. A political scandal? A Malfoy beside the fruit tarts.

@saintgarbanzo wrote Baker’s Modern Wands for @starquestingfordrarry [E, ~43,600]

At Baker’s Modern Wands Lavender Brown is starting a revolution, Draco Malfoy is trying his best, and Harry Potter is really annoyed about it all.

@nv-md wrote Kiss Me, Fuck Me, Love Me for @doingthechachaslide [E, ~5,100]

Harry and Draco are running very late—they’ve got shirts to find, puppies to save, and champagne to buy. They’re also terribly, ridiculously, extraordinarily in love.

@moonflower-rose wrote Equally Cursed and Blessed for @thecouchsofa [E, ~18,200]

Harry’s back at Hogwarts to attempt his final year, again. This time he’s sure there’ll be no shenanigans. Well. Maybe there’ll be a few.

[arealcrow]

an hour found

2.8k words, dragon age: the veilguard, rookanis

Rhava and Lucanis share the last slice of torte, and something more. or : Rookanis first kiss set after the romance lock in.

Rhava thinks that the spaces Veilguard have made their own across the Lighthouse reflect them well. Aside from his own room, anyway. It's hard for him to get comfortable in there. Which is why, he supposes, he finds the dining hall so welcoming on a sleepless 'night'. The lit fire casts the room in a warm light that permeates the timeless Fade to give the permanent impression of evening. The smell of coffee only adds to that, calling to Rhava to have a cup and a treat for dessert.

The smell of coffee- still fresh- means that….

"I should have guessed you'd still be up," Rhava smiles as he pokes his head just past the pantry door, sounding more pleased than reproachful.

He probably should have knocked, but Lucanis doesn't seem surprised at his appearance. The man is one of the most renowned assassins in the Crows, so Rhava suspects his approach was heard. Or perhaps Spite had sensed him coming.

By way of a greeting, Lucanis tilts his head at Rhava. He is leaned against a wall, cradling an ornate, purple cup in his hands. The first flickers of a smile crease at the edges of his eyes, softening his severe features. Rhava can feel a tingle in his palms at the sight. Just a hint of fondness from Lucanis and he's buzzing with electricity, ready to strike like a storm cloud. He'd feel pathetic if he had feeling left to spare past his yearning.

"Yes, you probably should have," Lucanis says- and there's the smile that Rhava had been hoping for. There for a brilliant flash and then gone as Lucanis' eyebrows furrow. Rhava doesn't try to hide the way his eyes flick from his mouth back up to those concerned brown eyes.

"Why are you still up, Rook? Is something wrong?"

Rhava hums and looks around the pantry, stalling as he searches for an answer he does not want to give. His gaze lingers over the slightly worrying collection of cups Lucanis has amassed. He counts… seven? And the one Lucanis was holding made eight. Eight marks the final kill, his brain not-so-helpfully supplies. That's not what Lucanis had asked him about.

"Nothing wrong. I mean, other than," he shrugs a shoulder, "you know… everything that's happening. My gods rampaging and the blight and invasion and cults and… when I sleep it's either wolf packs stalking me through All-Father sent nightmares, or it's the Dread Wolf himself feeding me lies."

His gaze is fixed on the stone floor now. He can't bring himself to meet the unbearable softness that he knows will be waiting for him if he looks up at Lucanis. It's a comfort that feels unearned, but one desperately yearned for. He hadn't spoken to any of the Veilguard of the how the howling in his dreams had driven him to sleepless nights. He was supposed to support them through their trials, he couldn't show them that he was faltering in his own. What kind of leader would he be?

Yet here he was, driven by that small rebellious part of him that told him if anyone would understand voices in his head, it was Lucanis.

"Ah, I see. No rest even when you sleep," Lucanis says.

It's a simple thing, but Rhava is surprised at how much he does feel seen. When he looks up, gentle brown eyes meet his, filled with a depth of understanding that brings him comfort.

"You know," Lucanis suggests, "Viago might have something that can induce a dreamless slumber."

"Oh, yes, he does," a sly smile spreads across Rhava's lips, "I try not to get too dependent on Nightcap, though. I think I've already started developing a resistance."

Lucanis matches his expression with a small, wry smile of his own, "Nightcap, of course. Who am I to recommend poisons to a de Riva?"

Rhava winks at him, and can't help the way his grin widens as he launches into the worst segue he can think of, "So, now that we've established my familiarity and potential resistance to poisons… would you want to share dessert? There's just one slice left of the torte you made."

Lucanis huffs out a laugh, taking Rhava's words for the joke they are.

"I saved it for you."

He's too sweet, Rhava hardly knows what to do with him. Actually, Rhava had plenty of ideas of what he'd like to do with Lucanis, but he thinks they should probably go on a real date first.

"Well… I think it would taste better if you ate it with me. Joy shared is doubled, after all."

"Hmm, if you insist," Lucanis' words are filled with mirth- he's already pushing himself up from the wall.

"I do insist," Rhava gives an overly dramatic nod, and is gone from the pantry doorway a second later.

Lucanis emerges to find him quickly busying himself in the small kitchen. He places two forks onto the platter holding the final slice of torte and then fixes himself a cup of coffee- two sugars, and just a little cream. The mug he chooses is a sturdy one of Dalish design, made of earth toned clay that match the torte. Rhava's cup goes onto the platter as well, which he balances like a tray on one hand. His free hand he offers to Lucanis- who takes it with no questioning other than the eyebrow he raises.

Rhava only offers a smile in a return, and then pulls Lucanis to follow him over to the red couch nestled in the corner of the dining hall. He sets the platter down on the coffee table, and flops down onto the couch like he owns it.

"Sit," Rhava requests, patting the spot next to him.

When Lucanis hesitates, he pats the couch again, once more with fervor.

"Siiiiit," he insists, "I don't bite."

"We both know that's not true," Lucanis jokes as he settles down next Rhava.

Rhava giggles, smothering the noise and his smitten expression behind a hand. Once he settles himself, he leans forward and takes the cake platter from the coffee table. He glances at the sliver of space between them, and rather than widen that gap, he scoots close enough to press the sides of their thighs together so he can balance the platter between them.

"I've got something to chew on, so you're safe for now," Rhava says, picking up a fork. Lucanis takes the other fork, and sets his own coffee cup on the platter.

"I'll have to keep making you treats, then. To ensure my safety."

That sounds nice. Too nice.

"Be careful making offers like that. While I may be easily bribed, my appetite is ravenous," Rhava warns, and maybe he's talking about more than food.

"I can adjust the grocery list accordingly. Just let me know if you have any special requests."

Lucanis is smiling like they're sharing a secret. Rhava wants to be frustrated with him.

If he requested some hard-to-find, stupidly expensive vintage? If he asked for out of season assan'adhal bark? Or asked him to make the paella recipe he grew up eating with his clan?

He's sure Lucanis would do his best to make it happen.

Rhava knows how much money Lucanis' contracts rake in- he knows the man could easily pay to fill any kind of appetite Rhava presented him with. And judging by the special dessert that had been prepared for him- which Emmrich had subtly informed him was a labor intensive confection- Lucanis was just as rich in devotion and motivation. The sum of it all is enough to make Rhava speechless. He tries to hide his mollified expression behind a sip of coffee, but Lucanis is giving him a curious look that tells him he's not successful in his deception. Whatever he's thinking about the exchange, he keeps it to himself.

A comfortable silence falls between them. The only sounds in the dining hall are the crackling fire, the quiet sipping of coffee, and the scraping of forks as they leisurely snack on the final torte slice. If the conversation had died like that with anyone else, Rhava would be scrambling to save face and fill the dead air. He doesn't feel that urge here, confident that Lucanis either understands the reason for his silence or otherwise is content with his lack of understanding. It leaves space in the quiet that stretches between them for Rhava to gather himself again.

It doesn't take too long for his mind to start wandering to all of the unresolved questions between them- all of the little moments that have led to this casual closeness. So far he's been content to let things unfold at the pace Lucanis was comfortable with. His freedom was fresh, and they were both under so much pressure. It was nice to just enjoy the time they had together. But still… some questions begged to be asked.

Rhava is audacious in the way he breaks anything, especially silences.

"Soooo," a playful grin slowly brightens his face as he teases, "I was the key to your mind prison, huh?"

Lucanis makes a noise halfway between a laugh and groan, "Rook-"

"Lucanis," Rhava cuts him off, sounding half fond and half exasperated, "Call me Rhava. Please."

"Of course, forgive me," he amends, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's fine," Rhava knocks his knees against Lucanis', making their cups wobble precariously, "I just.. like hearing you say it… is all."

"I see," Lucanis digests that information before continuing, "Rhava, if I trust my thoughts to anyone, it's you."

Rhava isn't sure if it's Lucanis obliging his request or the actual words he's saying that causes warmth to bloom across his face. He wants to crack a joke and say that Lucanis has questionable taste, to break the tension thrumming through him. He can't find the words. The way Lucanis is looking at him is so warm and painfully earnest, it scares Rhava. Lucanis trusts him so much. All of the care Lucanis could give- was he worthy? Could he hold a love that soft without some dreadful consequence? Lucanis deserved better than to be hurt by some stupid mistake he'd inevitably make.

"Rhava?" Lucanis asks, after after the pause in conversation stretches on a few seconds too long.

Rhava's eyes dart to his lips, the way they move as Lucanis speaks his name. He has to ask now- before he can talk himself out of it.

"If I kiss you right now, are you going to pull away again?"

There's an expected expression of surprise, but then he watches as Lucanis' mouth twitches and he realizes quickly that he's being smirked at. When he draws his heavy gaze up, there's a heat in the way Lucanis is looking at him that matches the rapidly sparking fire in his own wide eyes. He's sure he's gone pink all the way to the tips of his pointed ears with how aflame he feels.

"Only one way to find out," Lucanis says, voice now quiet and low- taking on the same breathy quality Rhava has only heard once before. The last time they were this close. He feels like he's going to pass out.

As if he knows Rhava needs the grounding, Lucanis tucks an errant strand of hair behind his ear. Following the motion, he gently tangles his fingers in Rhava's hair, cupping the back of his head. He has that same confidence he'd displayed when he'd backed him up against a wall, and shows no signs of leaving him high and dry this time. Then again, Rhava hadn't expected him to pull away last time.

Just as the first slivers of anxiety start to sink their claws in, Lucanis pulls him in for a kiss.

It's everything Rhava had hoped it would be, and more. It's sweet. He's intrigued. Lucanis' lips brush against his with tentative intention. Rhava is bolder in how he meets the invitation, surging forward with all of the hunger and curiosity he can communicate in the short time he's given. He thinks any amount of time spent pressed against Lucanis would be too short- that this is a taste he could get lost in exploring.

He's only just begun to lose himself in the feeling when Lucanis starts to pull away. That won't do. He wasn't done yet.

Rhava follows Lucanis' retreat, leaning forward to capture his lips in another kiss. Lucanis lets him, curling his fingers to lightly grip Rhava's hair. He can feel the pleased upturn of Lucanis' mouth against his, a smile he's happy to devour. It's all the encouragement he needs to get even closer. Without a second thought, he moves to straddle Lucanis' lap- and is rewarded with the clatter and splash of the forgotten cake platter, forks, and half-empty cups of coffee being unceremoniously dumped onto the floor.

Rhava can't bring himself to care, not when he has Lucanis right where he wants him. If Lucanis has any protests about the mess then he doesn't voice them, just places a steadying open palm on his thigh. The spot of contact fans the flames burning through Rhava, a steady growing fire looking for more to engulf. One of his hands tangles in dark, feathery hair- a mirror of Lucanis' own hand in his hair- while the other finds a grip on the fine fabric of his vest. Both soft sensations under his fingertips, but nothing compared to the silken feel of their kiss.

A crackling, electric magic fills the air around them, and Rhava doesn't have to open his eyes to sense Spite's luminous wings wrapping around him. The demon's presence is smoothed out in the Fade, but he still manifests with a frenetic energy Rhava can feel raising the hairs on the back of his neck. It shouldn't be a surprise when two wingtips ghost against his back, sending a pleasant shock up his spine. He gasps at the sensation, and Lucanis pulls away enough to give him a concerned look. Before he can question what happened, or accuse Spite of any malicious intent, he's taken aback by the sound of Rhava's breathy laughter.

"Sorry," Rhava says, "I got… absorbed in the moment, forgot we have another participant."

"Don't encourage him," Lucanis sighs.

Rhava hums thoughtfully and presses his forehead against Lucanis'. This time when Spite's wings brush against him in an embrace, he doesn't startle. The demon holds him closer as Lucanis slowly loosens his grip and removes his hand from his hair. Rhava can feel the moment ending, like a candle at the end of it's wick, but he's still lingering in the glow.

"That was nice," Rhava murmurs.

"It was nice," Lucanis replies, just as quiet. He brushes his thumb along the line of Rhava's jaw before finally letting his hand fall away.

"It's late," he says, and has to steel himself against the way Rhava's shoulders fall in disappointment to continue, "You should get some rest. I'll clean up here."

"Fenedhis lasa," Rhava swears under his breath, "The mess.. I'm sorry…"

"It's fine," Lucanis pulls away enough to press a kiss to his cheek, "That was worth it."

There's a beat of silence as Rhava revels in the easy affection Lucanis always seems ready to give to him. Love served on a silver platter.

"You should get some rest," Lucanis repeats himself.

"So should you," he shoots back.

"I'll go to sleep if you do."

Rhava manages to hold back a laugh- Lucanis drives a hard bargain.

"Contract accepted."

Between Crows, that's better than a pinky promise.

It's only with that reassurance that Lucanis will also rest that Rhava is able to pull himself away from his paramour. He doesn't want to keep Lucanis up any later than he already has. Well.. he does want to, but he shouldn't. So he lays one final, fleeting kiss on Lucanis' forehead before he fully disentangles himself from his lap.

Despite knowing they both need sleep sooner rather than later, he pauses in the doorway, lingering in the dregs of the moment. He's sure he looks as besotted as he feels; he's not trying to hide it.

"Good night, Lucanis," he says, "Thank you."

"Sleep well, Rhava."

Rhava takes the fond look that Lucanis gives him and the way he says his name, and holds it fresh in his memory as he makes his way back to his room. He hopes that maybe- if he turns the kiss they'd shared over in his mind enough- he will have better dreams tonight.

~*~

"Tastes like. Dessert," Spite says, after the door swings shut behind Rhava.

Lucanis nods slowly, ignoring the mess at his feet and sinking further down into the couch. He closes his eyes and sinks into the new memory of a kiss- his first- hoping to etch every detail of the experience into the back of his eyelids. He's used to using his trained mind to commit bloody plans to memory, trying to relish in the afterglow of a kiss is a welcome change. The taste is still fresh on his lips. Coffee and chocolate and hazelnut and cream and apricot and sugar and something else distinctly Rhava.

"Yes, like dessert," Lucanis breathes out, still craving more.

[ravenslady]

A Waiting Move, then...

Dragon Age Veilguard Inspired Scenes, follow up to previous scenes (in chronological order): + Scents and Grief + Letter to Lucanis + Fives Stages, Two Talons, and a lost little Crow + A Crow's Caw and Crumbling Masks > A Waiting Move, then... > King and Rook Checkmate in Two + An Antidote: Hyacinthus Litwinovii Purpura These scenes were prompted by what was not shown during/following the Regret Prison. We've finally achieved the multi-part final scenes for Lucanis and Rook being reunited. This first scene A Waiting Move, then... is the build up to their reunion and has two separate moments captured in the hunt for Rook. I will be posting the final actual reunion King and Rook Checkmate in Two just after so hopefully you all can enjoy them both.

Faelarin de Riva.Fae is a nonbinary Crow!Mage! [see here]

>>

He felt his essence spooled out like thread pulled from a skein, tumbling over itself, unravelling as the tether that bound his spirit and that of Spites were being drawn taut and the further into the Fade that the spirit ranged from its corporeal enmeshment, the more it felt like the spun fibers were pulling thin.

Lucanis could hear the frantic worry of his friends outside of himself, loosely aware of the reality they inhabited and this twilight space of consciousness he held, allowing Spite to travel the Fade in search of Rook. Agony lanced through him as another pull on the tether travelled into his body, his face contorted and he gnashed his teeth to keep from screaming as the sharp pains of being pulled asunder almost tore his sanity from him. Sweat was pearling up and running over his face and body as he fought to maintain a connection with reality and Spite, slowly realizing one or the other would have to give.

Emmrich spoke through the fog of twilight suspension, “Spite almost has their location…hold on Lucanis!” his voice melded into the sound of his gold rings and jewelry clinking with each circumduction of his arms, the arcs and rotations causing the metal to bounce off each other in the metered symphony that accompanied Emmrich’s casting style.

Lucanis had been briefed on the methodology for this type of search, the careful dance of magics requiring Emmrich’s scrying to follow the path Spite was taking through the Fade, Neve’s enhancing and warding magics and shift in her evocation to use subtle barriers almost like a stasis, and a form of grounding coming from Harding that was unique to her Titan powers. While Lucanis was as magical as a brick, he had studied the different types of mages enough to know this was a careful interlacing of magic that most would not have attempted, however the Veilguard had been working to understand the vast reaches of resonance and interrelation of magics while dealing with the gods, so to turn their hypotheses into practice was a painstaking opus.

A cold damp press of cloth touched Lucanis’ face, wiping away the sweat and trying to offer some easement of discomfort, he could feel the careful press of the cloth and the gentle way in which the person dabbed at his skin.  He normally would have hated the softness involved with the action, the intimacy of it was not something he had sought before but the comfort involved was grounding in a way.

“Hurry Emmrich, this is getting to be too much” Neve’s worried voice pitched a little distance to his left. She was obviously pacing, the rhythmic sound of metal landing and shifting as the springs settled just out of a balanced bearing meant she was also canting on her hip. Her walk always carried that extra note, the measure of her stride with the weighted addition of the serpent prosthetic almost seemed to telegraph her emotional state. If she rested back on a cocked-hip she was making an assessment or had already judged someone wanting.

Harding’s magic was holding his body in place and he suspected she was also kept periodically pressing the damp cloth to his face, a soothing action so fitting to her caring demeanor, but this magic that held him was also fueled by a fierce heart that longed to protect people and it came through in her steady voice, “You can do this Lucanis, just a little more.” She was clearly speaking to him but the way she spoke was an encouragement for herself as well, to bear up and be brave.  Lucanis wondered if she ever knew how strong she was and how vital to the team she had become, ever their voice of fearless determination. Spite liked her for her no-nonsense approach and determination to do what must be done, even if for a time that had meant she was resolved to kill Lucanis and Spite if the need had arisen.

Abruptly the pain ceased, held afloat like a gathering storm under his skin and rising on fibers of his spirit that had frayed over the last few weeks through these attempts to use he and Spite to locate Rook in the Fade. Lucanis was alert and tried to brace for more pain, the minutes ticking and he could sense those gathered in the Lighthouse pressing closer to his prone form. From deep beyond the edges of his waking mind, Lucanis heard a triumphant bellow ripple through the Fade, travelling over the threads of their tether and echoing in the scrying magics swirling in the chamber, “FOUND!”

Then in a flash there was a quick, forceful retracting of energy, a surge as the tether rapidly recoiled and snapped back into Lucanis with a rush. The overwhelming blast of Spite returning and the wholeness of his own spirit being recovered sent a wave of nausea and disorientation through Lucanis’ body, managing to temporarily render him unconscious. The magic receded around them as Neve and Harding pulled back their power and allowed it to dissipate, only Emmrich’s scrying magic remained in the air and reset the energy of the room to a gentle hum. Lucanis dragged his consciousness from the depths, both he and Spite meeting in his mind as both recovered from the expenditure of their energy and the several-times over near loses that had accumulated over the last few weeks.

FOUND ROOK. FOUND THEIR PAIN… Spite spoke within their shared mind; his purple form looking worn and weary in reflection of his sacrifices and the strain of his revelation. BIG BURST OF AGONY AND SADNESS DREW SPITE TO ROOK. HURT SO MUCH. THEIR HEART WAS BREAKING…AGAIN.

Thank you Spite. Were you able to get to them or…just feel their pain...could you see them? Asked Lucanis, trying not to word-vomit all his questions and unload all his worried inquiries on the weary demon.

HEART BREAK FELT LIKE. LOSS. WHEN ROOK DISAPPEARED FIRST. Spite was clearly trying to put to words the raw emotions he felt and existed by in the Fade but relate them to Rook’s feelings, he looked saddened as he spoke.

Both Lucanis and Spite unwittingly reliving the tortuous sound of Rook yelling Lucanis’ name in a fear filled and wounded cry just before they disappeared into the prison. Lucanis never experienced the waking moments after that sound as Spite had overwhelmed him and his world had gone black, Spite piloting their body to rage and attack any perceived enemy in sight as he attempted to reach the elven god who emerged from the Fade. Their friends had pulled them both back, trying to minimize further losses to the team as Elgar’nan had unleashed fires that turned Tearstone Island’s sand to glass and melted any living material left, effectively destroying large swaths of his own Antaam army in his rage.

So, we just need to wake up, give them your information…then Emmrich can work with Neve to find them. When they do…we go, somehow, and we save them. Like they saved us. Lucanis was trying to measure his hopefulness, his eagerness, and he stepped forward to his demon making direct eye contact as they both breathed and pulled themselves together for their next mission. Spite nodded resolutely and stepped forward into Lucanis this time, their essences overlapping as they reached their accord, returning then to consciousness and the world with shared resolve.

****^*****

Emmrich had taken the information from Spite and the map he had constructed through his Fade scrying to formulate a plan. The action had taken almost a day as he and Neve talked and theorized through every contingency, at points coming to forks in the discussion that required heated exchanges and deliberations on the costs and benefits of the different options. 

Lucanis had retreated for a time, after the third such dispute, and written several letters to their allies, informing them that they should be alert for any changes and that the Veilguard was determinedly close to a solution. Lucanis knew he was being overly vague in the way he sent this information but he knew that diplomacy was sometimes the best way forward, especially when the efforts of the team had largely fallen off the bigger focus of Northern Thedas while in their singular mission to retrieve Rook. Lucanis sent two missives for Teia and Viago, one to each of their residences to ensure they would receive the notification. He did not know the exact nature of their entanglement at this time but it was always best to plan for whatever twist those two created and make sure Viago was able to be present when Rook came home.

Lucanis held firm to that hope as he waited. He felt some intense drive to properly groom himself and get his kit and gear in order before this most important mission.  So, with determined focus, he bathed, washing off the film of depression and strenuous physical stresses the Fade explorations had exacted on his body.  He sharpened his razor and carefully fixed his facial hair, using some oils Rook had found in Treviso’s market to smooth his beard into its newly maintained styling. He pressing his clothes carefully and meticulously cleaned his fighting leathers until they were to their proper order and wore like a second skin without unnecessary stiffened leather rubbing against itself.  Finally, he took out each of his knives and polished them, getting out several dry cloths, his specialized whetstone, and oils to properly care for each individual blade. He left only one blade to the last, the wyvern tooth dagger Rook had gifted him on their first proper outing in Treviso. He carefully touched each detail, cleaning with a singular mind as he caressed and cherished the dagger, the gifter, and the memory of their realized affection. As he worked a cleaning cloth over the blade he thought through a jumble of worries and wants and his mind settled in a careful hopefulness that he usually guarded against.

He sat in Rook’s room waiting until he heard Taash’s agile but heavy steps coming down the stone hallway. Before the doors opened, he rose, sliding the wyvern tooth dagger into his left side waist sheath tucked against his lower ribs, above where his regular weapons rested in their scabbards on his hip.

“We’re ready!” Taash projected with pent up anticipation and a similar vein of hope that Lucanis had settled into. “Oooh, that is style.” Taash appreciatively remarked on the practical but fashionable suit of the First Talon.

“Thank you.” Lucanis responded, preening only somewhat, “Shall we?” and he gestured for Taash to proceed back to the main room of the Lighthouse so they could embark with Emmrich for this mission. They both walked swiftly to the main room where the others were prepared, having drawn the needed magical diagrams to complete their mission and bring Rook home.

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature I love a jealous Tommy 😍!

I honestly wana bash their heads together sometimes 🤦🏼‍♀️. They're both constantly worrying almost the same exact things about the other. Whether the other will leave them, if the other deserves someone else, that they're too much of a headache for the other...arghhh 😭! Their characteristics and insecurities are so intertwined that I swear they're the same person 😂.

Ada pressed her red-painted lips together, trying–and failing–to suppress a smile. “That little crush he has on her is quite sweet.” oh Ada, don't you know your brother. This was possibly the worst thing you could have said to him 🤦🏼‍♀️. Or perhaps it was on purpose? Siblings trying to annoy one another 🤭? I was not shocked by his reaction, and the sudden spiralling he left himself quickly fall into. Like I said, he may be better at hiding it than Lucy, but this man had major fears when it comes to the mere idea of losing Lucy to someone else.

"I let him go yesterday.” ahh yes, classic Tommy 👌🏼. Instead of talking about the issue that's bothering him, get rid of It entirely instead. I think the way Lucy reacted is the first time I've ever seen her properly snap at him 🤔. He deserved it though. He completely blindsided her with this move!

“Adam doesn’t have a crush on me.” ok so, Tommy was oblivious to Adams crush and so was Lucy 🤦🏼‍♀️😂. These two really are in their own little bubble! We've already seen how they are in a room full of people. They can't keep their eyes and thoughts off each other. So actually, their mutual obliviousness doesn't surprise me!

She gaped at him. “Do I need to remind you that your wife was working as your secretary when you impregnated her?” 💅🏼, well she's not, not right, Tommy.

“Yeah, well, I’m not doing shit that’s leading him on either.” Another justified blow and reality check he needed to hear.

"And I am. I am yours.” Her lips trembled and she pressed them tightly together, tilting her head ever so slightly. “But you’re not mine.” ahhh, this was such a good line but so heartbreaking to read 😭. If Lizzie was a half decent person in this AU she would have refused this arrangement. She knows how much these two love each other, and how much heartbreak this would cause everyone involved. But alas, she's not 😤.

I gotta admit, I was a little scared when Adam suddenly appeared. I thought Tommy would come barging through at any minute 😳. But what I didn't except was how respectful and understanding he was. What a sweetheart 🥰. Of course he picked up on the loving glances Tommy gives Lucy. Everyone else may have blinkers on when it comes to their relationship, but sweet Adam clearly knows love when he sees it ❤️.

Tommy was seated on the crimson colored velvet couch. His suit jacket off and tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair, head in his hands and an over half drunk bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him. Drowning in his sorrows 🙄😂. He's like a cat that's been left out in the rain 🤭. I'm relieved he gave Adam back his job and they managed to move past Tommy's jealous little hiccup. But I feel like this little scare may have only increased his protectiveness over her 😅.

He shook his head despite blushing against her hands. “‘M big scary gangster.”-“Mm, yeah, I know.” She chuckled when he draped his arms around her lazily and snuggled into her neck. “The most fearsome of them all.”- “Damn right.” I love his drunken rambling 😂. It was such a cute and endearing way to end this angsty chapter.

Slowly making my way through all the parts I've missed, hopefully I'll be caught up with everything soon 🤞🏼! Loved seeing jealous Tommy, please bring him out to to play again sometime soon 🤭.

Part 25: My Darling One

Summary: Tommy overreacts when he learns of the crush his secretary has on his lover.

Word Count: 6,808

Warnings: Jealousy, Tommy being a bit of an asshole, sexual content, and references to polyamory.

Notes: Tommy and Lucy are in an established relationship. Tommy is married to Lizzie, but is having an affair with Lucy--though Lizzie is aware of it and has somewhat begrudgingly allowed their relationship to continue. This takes place between seasons 4 and 5.

Previous Part • Series • Next Part

“I met your secretary while I was waiting,” Ada told Tommy as they sat at his desk in his office in the House of Commons. “He seems nice.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid.” It had taken ages for them to find someone that fit all their requirements in a secretary. Adam was smart and competent, but also understood the importance of discretion. He was more than willing to look the other way when it came to some of their more shadowy dealings. “He’s settling in well.”

“Lucy’s training him?”

“Of course. Who else?”

Ada pressed her red-painted lips together, trying–and failing–to suppress a smile. “That little crush he has on her is quite sweet.”

Tommy went stock still, pen freezing where it was poised over a paper. “His what?”

Ada looked up at him sharply, the change in his tone triggering her smile to fall. “You don’t know? He’s so obvious about it.”

“He’s not…” but his mind was working back, reexamining. Remembering the way that Adam sometimes looked at Lucy, the puppy-like way he followed her around during his first week. How sometimes Tommy would come out of his office into the space where Lucy and Adam’s desks were located to find them giggling together over something. 

“Look, I’m sure it’s not a big deal,” Ada had returned her attention to the papers in her lap. “Just a puppy love kind of thing. And it isn’t like she’s interested, so…” she shrugged, looking up at him with a playful glint in her eye, “put the razors away, alright Tom?”

“Hmph,” he grunted, even as he leaned back slightly in his chair, knuckles raising to rest against his lips, eyes glued to the double doors that led out into Lucy and Adam’s office. 

The idea of Adam sitting right out there, flirting and laughing with Lucy, made his blood boil. 

Jealousy was not something he often had to deal with in regards to Lucy. Nearly everyone in Small Heath knew she was off limits and kept their eyes to themselves; lest they risk losing them. Not to mention that Lucy never showed any interest in any men outside of him. 

His lips pursed against his knuckles, jaw clenching as he remembered how Lucy had smiled at Adam that morning when he came in. 

That’s just Lucy. She’s warm and friendly towards everyone.

But the doubt had taken root in his head and was already starting to grow. 

Dropping his hand, he sighed, trying to force himself to focus on what he and Ada were supposed to be working on, but finding it increasingly difficult to pull his mind away from turning over each and every encounter he’d witnessed between Lucy and Adam. 

Yes; Ada was right. The kid definitely had a crush on her. But how did Lucy feel about him?

Why don’t you just ask her, you fucking dolt?

But he was suddenly frozen with fear at what her answer might be. 

He was aware of how hard he was to be with. It wouldn’t surprise him if she got tired of his constant moodiness and brooding. He wasn’t exactly a fun person to be around. Lucy could do a thousand times better. It continued to amaze him that she hadn’t up and left him already for someone who actually deserved her. 

And for someone who isn’t married to someone else, he thought miserably, thumb running across the surface of the gold wedding band on his left hand. A shackle that kept him tied to another woman who wasn’t the love of his life. 

Things with Lizzie had been touch and go. She knew about them, and while she allowed them to continue their relationship so long as they were subtle and kept things behind closed doors, she had made her discontentment about it known on several occasions. 

Her mood swings were getting almost as bad as his own. Poor Lucy, having to put up with both of them and their bullshit all the bloody time.

Though he had never taken out his anger or frustrations on Lucy. The same couldn’t be said for Lizzie. Often, it was Lucy who wound up being used as the punching bag for her ire. On a few occasions he’d had to step in to try to shield his lover from his wife’s jealous ragings.

It wasn’t all bad, of course. Sometimes Lizzie was warm and friendly. But her feelings and behaviors towards Lucy swung back and forth like a pendulum, and often they found themselves walking on eggshells around her for fear that saying or doing the wrong thing might set her off. 

With an arrangement like that, it would be no wonder if Lucy started looking for someone else who could offer her a full life. Not one relegated to moments of affection displayed only in shadowy corners or dark rooms. One where she could be loved openly.

The right thing to do would be to let her go. Let her be happy. He loved her so much; that was all he really wanted for her. But the idea of losing Lucy to someone else made him feel sick. Some other man touching her, kissing her, making love to her…

His heart twisted painfully in his chest. 

You fucking hypocrite. Sitting there agonizing over the simple thought of her doing all those things that you do with your wife. How do you think she feels when she has to see you with Lizzie?

He swallowed miserably, fumbling in the case on his desk for a cigarette. But the smoke that he inhaled did nothing to drown out the misery swirling inside him.

∗ ∗ ∗                                          

“Do you know where Adam is? He’s over an hour late,” Lucy asked when she came in to drop off some mail on Tommy’s desk, glancing around as if the secretary would materialize somewhere in the room. When she looked back at Tommy where he was seated in his big chair, he was shifting uncomfortably, not entirely meeting her gaze. 

“I let him go yesterday.”

“You what?” She whirled to stare at him, taken aback. “Why?”

He shrugged, fiddling with his silver cigarette case, popping it open and plucking one out, swiping it across his lips. “It just wasn’t a right fit.” 

“What does that mean?” Her hands landed on her lips, looking at him in confusion. She thought he’d liked Adam. 

“It means that you’re going to need to find me a new secretary.”

Lucy’s eyes widened at the curt tone. He almost never got snappish with her, and the near accusatory glance he shot her only left her even more confused and annoyed. 

“You do realize how long it took me to find someone who fit all of our requirements, right?”

“Better get started on collecting applications then, shouldn’t you?”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Her arms crossed over her chest, annoyance sharpening. “You really aren’t going to even tell me what he did that was so wrong you just had to fire him without even talking to me about it?”

“Wasn’t aware that I needed your permission.”

“Of course you don’t! But it would be common courtesy considering I’m the one who will have to pick up all the additional work without him here.”

“I’ll help you with it.”

She snorted. “Yeah, because you’ve got so much free time these days.”

“What–”

Turning on her heel, she stomped towards the double doors. “You’re having lunch with one of the MPs from Southampton. I’m going to go have tea with Ada.” 

“I need you to take notes–”

“Take your own bloody notes!” 

His jaw dropped open at her barking back at him, and she saw his temper flare briefly behind his eyes. 

“What? You going to fire me now too?” she challenged. He had enough self awareness to look at least a little sheepish at that. 

“Luce–”

“I don’t wanna hear it right now,” she wrenched the door open and let it bang closed behind her with perhaps a little more force than necessary.  

∗ ∗ ∗  

“--Can you believe that!?” She stopped aggressively stirring sugar into her tea, tapping the little silver spoon twice against the rim of the teacup before setting it aside and bringing the cup to her lips, blowing on it once before taking a sip. Her eyes finally raised to Ada’s, where she had been sitting very quietly while Lucy raved to her about how thick headed her brother could be. “Ada?”

Her throat worked, fingers adjusting their hold on the teacup she was holding in them. “I think I know why he fired Adam.”

Lucy set down her teacup in its saucer on the table, leaning forward. “Really? Why?”

Ada’s gaze darted up to hers awkwardly. “I may have mentioned something to him about Adam having a little crush on you. I just thought it was sweet. But he may have taken it the wrong way…”

“Adam doesn’t have a crush on me.”

Ada shot her a look. “You really didn’t notice? He was trailing after you like a puppy for a while, there.”

Lucy frowned. “I’m at least ten years older than him.”

Ada shrugged with a sly grin. “Some men are into that sort of thing, I hear.”

Lucy made a face. “I’m not interested in Adam, Ada.”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.” 

“So why would Tommy…?”

“Because he’s a man and they get all territorial and ridiculous sometimes.” She picked a stray bit of lint off of her skirt. “And you know how Tommy can be.”

Annoyance prickled under Lucy’s skin. What gave him the right to stomp around and put a poor kid out of work just because of a stupid crush of which nothing would ever come out of anyway? Did he really have so little faith in her loyalty to him?

Besides, he was married. To someone who was very much not her. Did he really think he had a leg to stand on when it came to being pissed off at the idea of her with someone else?

Not that she would ever actually want to be with someone else, of course. But still. It was the principle of the thing. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” She shook her head back and forth, slowly seething through her teeth. “God, he can be so fucking stupid.”

Ada patted her on the arm. “I know.”

By the time she left the tea room, she had been quietly stewing over Tommy’s reasoning for firing Adam for nearly an hour, her anger marinating. When she got back to the office, it was to find Tommy already there, apparently done with his lunch meeting and seated behind his desk, hard at work.

“Are you fucking serious?” She asked, after closing the door and making sure there was no one else around to overhear them, crossing her arms over her chest. Tommy raised his eyes to her, brows lifted behind the rims of his glasses. 

“What did I do now?”

“You fired him because he liked me!?” 

His jaw ticked, setting stubbornly. “He was being unprofessional–”

“Oh, do not even…how!? How was he being unprofessional, Tommy? I didn’t even know he liked me until Ada told me.” 

“This type of thing happening in the office can cause problems.”

She gaped at him. “Do I need to remind you that your wife was working as your secretary when you impregnated her?”

He flinched, gaze darting down to his hands where they were clasped in front of him on the desk. “Exactly. I had to learn my lesson the hard way about keeping someone around despite them being infatuated with one of us. I’m not dealing with that kind of shit again.”

“He’s not infatuated, Tommy! It’s just a stupid crush. It’ll probably go away in a month or two once he hits it off with one of the other secretaries. There’s plenty to choose from around here.”

“We thought the same thing about Lizzie, and now look where we are.”       

“Yeah, well, I’m not doing shit that’s leading him on either.” A low blow, maybe, but she was upset. And the swipe very much applied to both of them, not just him. She had plenty of chances to put a stop to things with Lizzie, and she hadn’t. Tommy shot her a wounded look, and she immediately felt bad. “If we’re talking about firing people over unprofessional, infatuated behavior, I’m the one who should be getting the boot, not him. You know, because you’re fucking me.”

“That’s…that’s different–”

“Why? Because you’re the boss so you can fuck whoever you want but no one else can?” 

“Because we’re in love, and have been together for years! He can’t just come swooping in here and take you! Because you’re mine!”

Her eyes widened, and she flinched away from him. “I’m not some thing that you own.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She stared at him, shaking her head back and forth slightly, suddenly massively disappointed in him. She kept her jealousy on a tight leash, despite having to watch Lizzie and a whole other slew of women constantly fall over their feet for him. She didn’t throw temper tantrums and demand he never see them again–especially when they were involved in their work–simply because they couldn’t stop drooling over him. 

But one man, just one in she didn’t even know how many years, showed innocent interest in her, and he threw a fucking hissy fit. 

There wasn’t even any chance of something happening between her and Adam. The boy was still practically a kid, and while sweet, very much not her type. 

Did Tommy really not trust her at all? Did he really think she was about to drop everything, abandon the life they’d built together, and run off with the first man to make googly eyes at her?

“You fucking hypocrite,” she spat out. “You want me to be just yours.” Her eyes dropped to focus on the golden band on his left ring finger. To her horror, through her anger, she felt tears building behind her eyes, a lump lodging in her throat. “And I am. I am yours.” Her lips trembled and she pressed them tightly together, tilting her head ever so slightly. “But you’re not mine.”

His brows drew in, frown pinching across his face. Hurt and panic flashed within his big blue eyes. “Lucy…” he rose from his chair, hand reaching out to her, but she took a step back. 

“I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Love, please, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. Just don’t, Tommy.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned and hurried out of the office, snagging her coat from the hook by the door as she did, barely getting out of there in time before she started to quietly cry. 

∗ ∗ ∗

She went for a walk around the city to clear her head, coat pulled in tight around her, head dipped low with her cap pulled over her hair, the shadow of the brim hiding the dried tear tracks running down her cheeks. 

The weather matched her mood, gray clouds gathering over the city, a few droplets of rain already starting to drip from them. Based on the way that the clouds seemed to roil and double overhead, it wouldn’t be long before they would unleash a full downpour on all of them. 

She wasn’t too far from her and Tommy’s London apartment. But she wasn’t ready to face him just yet. Though most of her anger and annoyance towards him had dried up while she stomped throughout the streets and away from Parliament. 

Overprotective fool, she thought grumpily, shaking her head. But now that she’d cooled off and could examine the situation more objectively, she was pretty sure that she understood what had happened. 

He’d panicked when he found out about Adam’s crush on her. He thought that he was going to take her away. How he thought Adam was going to accomplish that, she had no idea. She supposed that it likely didn’t matter. He probably didn’t even know himself. 

More rain drops fell from the sky, in great succession. Glancing up, she pulled her coat in tighter around her, and with quick steps hurried over to a pub on the corner of the street, ducking inside to wait out the worst of the storm. 

The pub was warm and crowded inside, but she managed to find a barstool close to the back to slide into, away from the bustle of bodies crowding around the bar. A barmaid came over and poured her the whiskey that she ordered, then must have seen it in her face that she wanted to be left alone and let her be with just her drink and her thoughts. 

Her eyes trailed lazily across the lines of shelves holding all assortments of bottles filled with liquor, to the phone tucked behind the bar. 

She could call Tommy and let him know where she was. So he wouldn’t worry. It was already starting to get dark out, and by the time it finished raining, it would most likely be night. 

No; she decided after a moment’s consideration. She would let him sweat a little more. 

“Miss. Winters?” 

She started, eyes widening at the realization that the boy who had been the cause of all this madness had shuffled up right beside her, peering at her curiously. 

OhmyGodhe’sstalkingme was the very first thought that occurred to her. “Adam. What are you doing here?”

“I, erm, I usually come here after work with my friends.” She followed where he pointed with her eyes, to a group of young men and women about Adam’s age sitting in a booth together. A few of them were watching them with intrigue, hastily averting their gazes when they saw her looking at them. 

“Oh.” She immediately felt a little bad for her initial assumption that he was following her. 

“Is Mr. Shelby with you?”

She smiled at him kindly. “No, it’s just me tonight.” She took a considerable swig of her whiskey. “Look, Adam, I’m sorry about Mr. Shelby–”

“Oh! No, no, it’s all alright.”

She frowned. “It is?”

He nodded. “He called me, oh, about an hour ago. Explained that it was all some big misunderstanding and that I can come into work tomorrow, if I want.”

Huh. Apparently her yelling and petulantly stomping her feet at him made an even bigger impression than she’d thought. “Oh. Okay. Good. Are you? Coming back in, I mean.”

Adam nodded. “I am.”

“Good.” She flashed him a deprecating smile. “I was dreading having to deal with finding someone else.”

Adam looked bashfully down at his shoes. His ears were turning a little red. “Do you know…what exactly was it…I mean, if I did something wrong, I’d like to know.”

“No, no it was nothing you did.” Other than cause your boss to freak out and think you were going to try to steal his girlfriend. “It’s like he said, it was just a miscommunication.”

“Oh. Alright then.” 

It was then that the barmaid came over with a tray of drinks for Adam. He took it from her, balancing the tray carefully in his hands. 

“You know, you would be welcome to join us, if you wanted…” he offered. A blush was still flaring at his cheeks, eyes wide while they stared at her. Lucy gave him a kind look. 

“Actually, I’d rather just drink alone right now.”

He shrugged. “Alright.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure thing.”

She watched him weave through the other patrons back to his friends, before returning her attention to her own drink. 

Oh, Tommy, she shook her head to herself at her lover’s complete overreaction. Though the thought was filled with traces of affection. At least he’d made efforts to fix his mistake.  

She finished off her whiskey, then ordered another. Hopefully the rain would die down by the time she was done, and she could head home without worry of getting drenched. 

By the time that the rain actually stopped, it was dark outside, and a good many of the patrons at the pub had already left, leaving it quiet and empty save for a few occupied tables and booths. Setting some coins down on the bar to pay for her drinks, Lucy hopped off of the barstool, brushing imaginary lint from her coat and pulling her cap from her pocket. As she did, Adam came up to the bar to settle his tab with the barmaid. He gave her a shy smile. 

“Did your friends all leave?” she asked, looking over his shoulder to see that the booth they’d been occupying was empty.

“Just now, yeah.” He forked out some notes from his pocket to hand over to the barmaid, eyes darting anxiously from Lucy to the windows. “I, erm, I could walk you home, if you’d like? Since it’s dark out.”

“Oh, that’s okay, my place is only a few blocks away.”

“It’s no trouble.” 

She inclined her head, smiling a little at the boy’s sweetness, shrugging. “Alright.” 

Leading the way out of the pub and into the crisp evening air, she fell into step beside Adam as they started the walk back to the apartment that she shared with Tommy. Her fingers fumbled at her rings as she wondered whether he would be there waiting for her, or if he would still be at the office. She didn’t think he’d go all the way back to Arrow House without her. Even at his angriest with her, Tommy would never outright abandon her like that. Certainly not in London of all places. 

“I’m sorry about today. Mr. Shelby’s…he can be a little temperamental sometimes, I suppose, but he doesn’t normally do things like that.” They passed under a flickering street lamp. “He’s had a hard year,” she wasn’t sure what else she could offer up in explanation without having to go into far more detail than she was comfortable sharing with Adam.

“It’s alright. My last boss would throw things at us. Sent one of his other secretaries to the hospital when he hit him in the head with a paperweight.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I can at least promise you that Tommy will never do anything like that.” She colored a little at realizing too late that she’d slipped and used his first name. Quickly looking back out at the dark street ahead of them, she hoped that Adam wouldn’t notice. The cobblestones gleamed with lingering moisture from the rain. Neither of them said anything for another block, rounding the corner for her apartment building to come into view at the very end of the street. 

“He’s in love with you, isn’t he?” 

She nearly tripped over her feet and face planted right there on the sidewalk. “What–”

Adam gave her a sad smile, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “It’s the way he looks at you,” he said in explanation, like it was obvious. Lucy felt a speckle of horror open up inside of her. They had tried so hard this time around to be subtle…

“Adam,” she wheezed, minorly panicked. “It’s not…I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s married–” 

Adam shot her a sympathetic, somewhat amused look. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything. I’ve worked with politicians for a few years now. I know how these things work.”

“It’s not…it’s not like that.” For some reason, the idea that he might think that what she had with Tommy was nothing but a dirty affair, akin to what so many of the other politicians did when screwing around behind their wives’ backs, made her feel…cheap. Dirty.

Isn’t that all you really are, though? Just his dirty little secret that he keeps on the side. Even if his wife does know about it and tolerate it. If only just.

She shivered, looking away again. She knew what others probably thought of her. She was sure many looked at her and only saw yet another rich, powerful man’s airheaded mistress. Letting herself be led along, feeding off the empty promises he made that someday, eventually, he would leave his wife for her and they would have a real, happy life together.    

Poor, stupid girl, they whispered behind her back. Doesn’t she know how this always goes? The man never leaves. He never leaves his family for her, and once the wife has had enough and decreed that the affair must end, he’ll throw her out like he has all the others. Maybe get a new model in a few months, and forget all about her. 

That’s how it always goes.

She shook the thoughts away, arms going around her middle. No; that wasn’t them. That wasn’t her and Tommy.        

“I know.” Adam said. At the inquiring look she gave him, he shrugged. “I’ve seen my share of men chasing skirt just for the sport of it. This isn’t that.” 

Lucy swallowed hard. She wondered if he knew how badly she actually had needed to hear that.

“I mean it,” Adam continued. “I won’t say a word to anyone. And not just ‘cos I value my eyes and my tongue.” At her frown, he smiled good naturedly. “You think I didn’t do research into who I was working for?”   

Lucy cast him an impressed look. They’d picked Adam for a reason, after all, but it was only then that it fully dawned on her that he was aware of far more than either she or Tommy had perhaps given him credit for. 

It shouldn’t have been surprising, no one survived long in the political arena–even secretaries–without having a good head on their shoulders. 

“Look, I don’t want any trouble. I just want to do my job and go home at the end of the day, that’s all. Anything you and Mr. Shelby do in your private time isn’t any of my business, as far as I’m concerned.”

Lucy nodded slowly, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Thank you. We appreciate that.” They had come to the entrance to her apartment building. “This is me,” she said, digging around in her pocket to pull out her keys to the front gate. “Thank you for walking me.”

“It’s no problem.” He glanced over at her apartment building, head tilting back to stare at the windows above, several illuminated by the lights still on inside. “Tell him that I said that it’s alright. And that he doesn’t need to worry. I understand.”

“I will.”

“Have a good night, then, Miss. Winters. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“Right.”

He started to walk away, back the way they’d come. Her grip on her keys tightened, the little jagged grooves digging into her palm. “Adam?”

He turned to look back at her, brow raised curiously.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say. She hated to think that he may be hurt by her relationship with Tommy, and yet she was also relieved that he seemed to fully understand and accept that nothing would ever happen between them.

Adam shrugged. “Don’t be.” 

She nodded, thumbing out the correct key dangling on the ring she was clutching, sliding it into the lock on the gate and pushing it open. When she turned to close it behind her with a soft clang, Adam was already halfway down the road. 

She climbed the stairs slowly, pulling her cap off and tucking it away into her pocket, brushing a few loose red curls out of her eyes.

She opened the door to find the apartment dimly lit, the ornately shaded lamps by the couch in the middle of the sitting room turned on but the curtains drawn. 

Tommy was seated on the crimson colored velvet couch. His suit jacket off and tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair, head in his hands and an over half drunk bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him. His head lifted to stare at her with wide eyes at the sound of the door opening. He watched silently as she moved about, stripping off her coat and hanging it on the hook beside his next to the door. Wriggling out of her suit jacket, she deposited it over the back of one of the armchairs. With a sigh, she went to sit beside him on the couch. Never once did his gaze waver from her.

“You came back,” he said in a quiet voice. Lucy raised an eyebrow. It was obvious that he was drunk, both in the slight glassiness in his eyes, and in the barely noticeable slur to his words. 

“You really thought that I wouldn’t?”

He shrugged miserably, looking down at the table in front of them. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Frowning, she scooted a little closer to him, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder blade. “Tommy…”

“I called Adam and gave him his job back,” he still wouldn’t entirely look at her.

“I know.”

His head raised, brow furrowed. “You do?”

She nodded. “I ducked into a pub to wait out the rain. He was there with a bunch of friends. We chatted a little, and he said that you called him.” She hesitated, not sure how he would take the next bit, but not wanting to keep anything from him. “He walked me home.”

Tommy looked back down. “Oh.”

“Tommy, nothing is ever, ever going to happen between me and him. I don’t even feel that way about him at all, alright? You don’t need to worry.”

“I know.”

“Then why…?”

“Because…because there are dozens of people out there who would actually deserve you.” He didn’t meet her gaze, thumbs playing with each other while he spoke. “And I’m so scared that someday, someone is going to come and take you away from me.” 

Her heart broke a little, both at his words and the sorrowful tone with which he said them. “Oh, love,” she rested a hand on the back of his head. “Look at me,” with gentle pressure from her palm, she encouraged his head to turn until she was met with miserable blue eyes. So full of self hatred that she wanted to squeeze him in her arms and never let him go. “You’ll never lose me.” His lips trembled, eyes widening with unshed tears. Lucy let her forehead lean into his. “Not ever.”

He smelled of whiskey and smoke and melancholy, lashes lowering and head leaning into hers. The rest of his body shifted somewhat so he was more properly facing her, a hand landing on her hip.

“I love you. And I know that you don’t think that you deserve me, but you do. You love me more than anyone else ever has.” She continued, smiling a little when he tried to nuzzle his face more firmly against hers. A teasing gleam entered her eyes. “Besides, you really think that a scrawny little secretary that’s a good ten years younger than me is gonna manage to sweep me off my feet?”

Tommy huffed. “I know. I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“Mhm.”

Insecurity entered his eyes again. “He wants you, though.”

“Doesn’t mean that he gets me. Besides, he knows about us.”

Tommy stiffened. “How…?”

“Apparently we’re still not as inconspicuous as we’d like to think. Or maybe Adam is just more observant than we gave him credit for. Either way, he knows. He’s not going to say anything. But I do think he is a little scared of you. So, I doubt he’s about to try anything, either. You don’t need to worry about him.” She stroked his cheek. “And like I said earlier, it’s just a stupid crush. It’ll probably pass after a month or two once he finds someone else to capture his interest. He’s not like Lizzie. He knows that there’s nothing that could ever come of this.”

Tommy swallowed hard and nodded slowly, hand lifting to cover hers where it still rested against his cheek, thumb stroking over her knuckles.  

“I’m sorry too.” She leaned back a little so he could see the full genuinity in her face. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry about it. And I shouldn’t have called you a hypocrite over it either.”

Tommy shook his head, gaze dropping again to fix on the velvet couch cushions under them. They were soft and plush. The couch, despite still being new, was already well broken into by late nights spent cuddling, working, and fucking on it. 

“You were right. I was being a hypocrite. On multiple points.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely fair…”

“Isn’t it? What’s not fair is any of this for you. It’d serve me right if you went and fucked someone else.”

She was momentarily caught off guard and how truly miserable he sounded. So much so that it alarmed her a little. She knew that he felt massively guilty for the nights that he spent with Lizzie and not her. Even if they were few and far between. And even though she’d given him her blessing to do so. He always looked at her like a frightened puppy the morning after, as if expecting her to kick or scream at him and shove him away. But it worried her to think that he was self flagellating himself over it.

“I don’t want to fuck someone else.” She was still open to threesomes, of course–so long as he was with her–but that was different. “I knew there would be some sacrifices I’d have to make when you married Lizzie. It’s okay. I don’t care so long as we still get to be together.”  

Tommy cast her another sad look. “It would be okay if you did.”

“What? Fucked someone else or cared that there are things that I’ve had to give up?”

“Both. Either.” 

Her brows raised. “You’d still love me if I went off and fucked another man?” Considering the temper tantrum he’d just thrown, she didn’t think it was a wholly unreasonable question. 

“Of course I’d still love you. I’d love you no matter what you do.”

She felt herself melt a little. “Even if I blew up the world?”

His lips quirked upwards for the slightest of moments. “Even then.”

She kissed his nose. “You don’t ever have to worry about that, for the record.”

“Which one?”

“Fucking another man. I make no promises about not blowing up the world.”

He snorted, touching her face gently. “You were wrong, you know? I am yours. This,” he touched the ring on his finger, “doesn’t change any of that.”

“Doesn’t it?” 

“Not to me. It’s just a piece of metal. It doesn’t mean anything.” He leaned back a little, hand trailing lazily along her shoulder. “You’re the one I love.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, glassy eyes confirming her statement. “But what’s that thing that they say? Drunken words are sober thoughts.”   

He leaned forward to try to capture her lips with his. Lucy laughed softly, his movements a little uncoordinated, mouth tasting strongly of whiskey when it pressed to hers. She let him kiss her for a moment before pulling back, smiling at the way that he tried to chase her. Those wide eyes the color of a warm ocean blinked up at her hopefully, his thumb tracing circles into her hip.

“We’re alright?”

“Yes, we’re alright, you overprotective idiot.” Her tone was steeped in enough fondness for him to know that she meant it only affectionately. He poked her in the side, brow raising. 

“See? Proof that I love you. If anyone else gave me that sorta cheek I’d have their eyes.” 

She pressed her smiling lips together, as if her big softy of a lover didn’t often let people get away with far more than he probably should. “Of course, sweetheart.”

He let out a rumbling purr at the nickname, leaning into her. All that whiskey he’d been drowning himself in before she showed up seemed to be catching up to him, leaving him all sleepy and cuddly. 

She secretly loved it when he got like this. It was so bloody adorable to see some of the gruff exterior slip away, not even trying to hide the big teddy bear that he secretly was underneath. 

Smiling to herself, Lucy took his face in her hands, angling it up to look at her.

“What?” He asked, catching sight of the adoring look she was giving him. 

“You’re cute.”

He shook his head despite blushing against her hands. “‘M big scary gangster.”

“Mm, yeah, I know.” She chuckled when he draped his arms around her lazily and snuggled into her neck. “The most fearsome of them all.”

“Damn right.”

She laughed, looping her arms around his back to hold him closer to her. She could feel him growing heavier against her, nuzzling a little more into her neck. She stroked the back of his head, where the shaved parts of his hair prickled her skin before giving way to softer, longer strands. “Is the big, fearsome, very drunk gangster sleepy?”

“…Yes.”

“Let’s get you to bed, then.” When he made no move to get up, despite his mumble of agreement, she had to bite back a laugh. “Tommy?”

“Comfortable here.”

“Right, but if we fall asleep on this couch, you’ll get a crick in your neck and my shoulders will be killing me come morning. Bed.”

He whined and pouted a little, but let her navigate him away from where he’d settled against her throat. Standing and pulling him by his hand to his feet, she wrapped her arm around his waist. He wasn’t as unsteady on his feet as she’d feared, arm looping around her shoulders more for closeness than out of actually needing stability. The bedroom was just down a very short hallway that veered off from the sitting room. The canopy bed that greeted them looked particularly comfortable, golden light from the lamps bouncing off the wardrobes pushed up against the walls and the little vanity where she did her hair and makeup in the mornings.

All Tommy did to get ready for bed was strip out of everything save for his underwear, then promptly decide that rather than just wait for her in the bed like a normal person, he wanted to drape himself around her instead. Which made it rather difficult for her to remove her makeup and get out of her own clothes with a tall–well, tall in comparison to her, anyway–and stockily muscled man hanging off of her like a koala. 

“Alright, you loon, you’ve gotta let me go for a second.” She said, giving him a peck to the forehead to dissuade him from pouting too much when she extracted herself from his grasp so she could change. He still sulked at the momentary lapse of physical contact, but seemed pleased when she opted to wear one of his shirts to bed rather than a nightgown, humming happily when she let him nestle back up against her. 

She maneuvered them both into the bed, smiling when he immediately snuggled up to her, his arms around her waist, head on her chest, and body half on top of hers. He almost never allowed his full weight to rest on top of her like that, too afraid of accidentally crushing her. Though honestly, if she had to pick a way to go, being smothered under him didn’t seem half bad. 

“Feeling better?” she asked, stroking gently through his soft dark hair. Tommy nodded, eyes already dropping closed. 

“‘M sorry for being an asshole.”

“It’s okay. Just talk to me next time before you start going around firing people, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry too,” she kissed the top of his head, a smile playing on the edges of her lips when she tipped her head back to rest against the pillows. “You wanna hear something kinda terrible?”

“Hm?”

“I kinda liked it. Not the part where you took things out on a poor boy who hadn’t actually done anything wrong,” she amended quickly. “But it’s just…nice to know that you’d be willing to fight for me.”

He turned his head to kiss her shoulder. “Always. No one touches my girl.” 

She smiled, knowing that the possessiveness in his voice was meant as protective and loving rather than controlling or dehumanizing. 

Tommy tightened his arms around her. “I love you.” 

She traced her fingers along the expanse of his bare, strong back, feeling the smooth skin and the periodic bumps of a scar or beauty mark. “I love you too.” 

He peppered a few kisses along her collarbone before settling again, and it wasn’t long before he was snoring softly against her, the deep rumbles from his chest helping to lull her, until she too fell fast asleep in the comfort of his arms. 

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[mossattack]

love that aloth is such a hater. meanwhile tekēhu and serafen just Do Not Care about him at all

[sskk-manifesto]

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[judiciously-ezekiel]

Ezekiel almost couldn't bear the look that crossed Pandora's face at his admission, yet he didn't look away; he couldn't look away. Not when he needed to come to terms with what he'd thought and done once upon a time. He could have been a better father, been faithful to his moniker that was bestowed once upon a time, yet he failed– watching his son, their boy, cross the line into dangerous territories of never being able to come back from his decisions. He watched as his wife relished her chaos up close and personally– feeding into the despair that her curse caused on the Princes as they scrambled to find purchase in the mortal realm that they didn't belong in. All because their King stole his daughter from them. His eyes closed the moment that Pandora's hand slipped onto his face, turning so he could press his lips onto her palm. He almost couldn't comprehend that even after all these years and distance, if something had happened to the witch... his Panny still loved him so much so that she couldn't bear living without him. "You are my light, my love. We've both done uncharacteristic things these past centuries, but nothing stopped me from believing deep down that we'd meet again. This life or the next, and nothing will ever change that." Zeke listened to his wife speak with such fondness in his heart that only beat for her, his hands squeezing hers between his gently. "You are my wife, my whole soul. If you believe me to be strong, then I believe that you, with all my heart, are not so far from who you were before this tragedy either. You may have ruled with a strong hand over the coven, but you also had compassion within you that was dimmed when our daughter perished, but it was not snuffed out completely." He thought back on the interactions that he'd had with most of the Princes, and Ezekiel knew that even if they were told that they would never return home regardless of their King, their powers were never given back... they wouldn't blame Pandora. Not one of them would blame her, but instead blame their King.

"There is a way to give them back their power, Pandora. We can break the curse," the words falling from his lips quietly, almost as if he were afraid he'd spook her with the idea, but with what he felt from her earlier when her secret came to light... Pandora was already thinking about it. She just needed an affirmation. "Our boy is on the cusp of losing himself completely, and while he might not like the Princes being redeemed... he needs to see that rage doesn't last. Anger only leads to despair and the wrong people being brought into the crosshairs. You are not severed from your mercy, my love, not with the sorrow you feel if the Princes never forgave you if they knew your truth." He held her hands firmly in his still, bringing her knuckles to his face to gently press his lips to them. "While I understand why you placed the curse onto the King as you did, hurting him by way of his children just as he hurt you... we can't let it go any longer. It's not hurting him; it's only hurting those boys just as he is hurting them now in their vulnerable state. They may have been complacent and let him hurt Celeste, but they were merely following the rules of their leader, their father. If there's one thing I know about you, I know that you've gotten close to Greed through all these years, regarding him so highly, and you know Wrath loved Celeste when we couldn't be around her... I know about the others." His gaze never left his wife's face as he began to list all of the information he'd been able to glean in a small amount of time. "Pride, who's trying so hard to stay away from his King's influence because he knows it's wrong, doesn't wish to hurt anyone he cares about any longer. Envy who's trying to do right by his Queen and protect his happiness while breathing hope back into us and Wrath. Lust, who's stolen away the object of his King's ire and left everything he's known behind to keep Azriel safe. Sloth came out of hiding to support Wrath, whose life was colored by the light of what their King said he was. Gluttony who had gone through imaginable pain and suffering just to keep his brother safe and defied his King for once in his life." A sadness washed over him again, knowing that without breaking the curse, the Princes would surely perish against their King. No matter what magical assistance the Firsts gave them. "Those boys deserve mercy. Even if there was no connection between you and Greed or Wrath and Celeste... they don't deserve to be served up to the King on a silver platter under the guise that they have a chance against him without their abilities. We cannot let them die, my love, or else we are no better than him. Let me help you break their curse."

Rhys was another problem she placed on the back burner for the time being, once the war reached an end and her daughter made the grand entrance she wished will take place, she would handle the teetering mind of her son. The coven's decimation meant starting from the ground up and her boy wasn't ready if he couldn't gain control of his temperament. Pandora never agreed with her husband's statement more than she did in that moment, yes, they both have changed drastically. A coven no longer rested at her feet, her children were not at her side, her husband once thrown to the streets and turned an outsider of his own family. She was spiteful, angry, and lacking all sense of direction with her choices. Pandora feared his reaction from the second it exited her lips. Fearing that, coming from a place of her own self-doubt and a repeat of the past, Ezekiel will give her the same look when he stood in their doorway on his way out. A mixture between mortification and absolute disgust. When neither emotion came from him now, Pan assumed she was imagining it through false hopes, but Zeke promised a fix to the problem and that assurance is all she needed. His gentle contact nearly brought the witch to her knees if she brushed aside the mutual secrets component of the ritual just to grant him access glancing at her the way he did. But no, his secret...the more her darling beloved revealed about the suffering he endured watching his entire family deteriorate, widened the hole in her heart created by Celeste's death that much larger. The centuries within Zeke's absence passed and with it, the memories of how happy the First Family once was fading each day. Losing their little girl meant losing the glue holding them all together. Arriving home from Hell to deliver the news quickly escalated an anger she soon directed at her husband in the midst of their grieving. She dragged down Rhys with the quest stitching together the curse and fed his rage. They were a team, an unstoppable force not even Ezekiel could slip in the middle of. His proclaiming love warmed her heart before the man's true secret shot an arrow straight through it. Pandora couldn't conceal the devastation along her expression, taking the moment to watch his binds untangle and rest in a heap at their bare feet. "My darling..." The sentence was all she can whisper in the moment, one hand reaching over to place against his chest and the other palm gently cupping the male's prominent jawline, "I know in all the ways I have hurt this family in my pursuit. We were grieving our daughter and separating my emotions for the sake of revenge was the only way I thought I could survive being without her. And I was so afraid that I would lose myself in the process that I lost sight of who I was doing it for. But losing you, Ezekiel, would have given me little choice but joining at your side." Pan dropped both of her hands to clasp his tightly, squeezing them to ground the married couple, "Your strength is the reason you are here today with me, it is the reason you have found growing close with the Princes. To give them the parent they deserve just as you were always meant to be. You may feel as if you have lost a grasp on our children, but you have never stopped being a father. Nothing will ever erase that, my dearest. You, Ezekiel, you are my strength, and I haven't once stopped loving you. The father of my children, my soul...my husband."

[iamthedukeofurl]

Scott Pilgrim is, I think, the best example I can think of for establishing a setting's Nonsense Limit. The setting's Nonsense Limit isn't quite "How high-fantasy is this". It's mostly a question of presentation, to what degree does the audience feel that they know the rules the world operates by, such that they are primed to accept a random new element being introduced. A setting with a Nonsense Limit of 0 is, like, an everyday story. Something larger than life, but theoretically taking place in our world, like your standard spy thriller action movie has a limit of 1. Some sort of hidden world urban fantasy with wizards and stuff operating in secret has a nonsense limit around 3 or 4. A Superhero setting, presenting an alternate version of our world, is a 5 or 6. High fantasy comes in around a 7 or so, "Oh yeah, Wizards exist and they can do crazy stuff" is pretty commonly accepted. Scott Pilgrim comes in at a 10. If you read the Scott Pilgrim book, it starts off looking like a purely mundane slice of life. The first hint at the fantastical is Ramona appearing repeatedly in Scott's Dreams, and then later showing up in real life. When we finally get an explanation, it's this:

Apparently Subspace Highways are a thing? And they go through people's heads? And Ramona treats this like it's obscure, but not secret knowledge. Ramona doesn't think she's doing anything weird here. At this point, it's not clear if Scott is accepting Ramona's explanation or not, things kind of move on as mundane as ever until their Date, when Ramona takes Scott through subspace, and he doesn't act like his world was just blown open or anything, although I guess that could have been a metaphor. there's a couple other moments, but everything with Ramona could be a metaphor, or Scott not recognizing what's going on. Maybe Ramona is uniquely fantastical in this otherwise normal world. And then, this happens

Suddenly, a fantastical element (A shitty local indie band finishing their set with a song that knocks out most of the audience) is introduced unrelated to Ramona, and undeniably literal. We see the crowd knocked out by Crash and The Boys. but the story doesn't linger on the implications of that, the whole point of that sequence is to raise the Nonsense Level, such that you accept it when This happens

Matthew Patel comes flying down onto the stage, Scott, who until this point is presented as a terrible person and a loser, but otherwise is extremely ordinary, proceeds to flawlessly block and counter him before doing a 64-hit air juggle combo. Scott's friends treat this like Scott is showing off a mildly interesting party trick, like being really good at darts. The establish that Scott is the "Best Fighter in the Province", not only are street-fighter battles a thing, Scott is Very Good at it, but they're so unimportant that being the best fighter in the province doesn't make Scott NOT a loser. So when Matthew Patel shows off his magic powers and then explodes into a pile of coins, we've established "Oh, this is how silly the setting gets". It's not about establishing the RULES of the setting so much as it is about establishing a lack of rules. Scott's skill at street-fighter battles doesn't translate to any sort of social prestige. Ramona can access Subspace Highways and she uses it to do a basic delivery job. It doesn't make sense and it's clear that it's not supposed to. So later on, when Todd Ingram starts throwing around telekinesis, and the explanation we're given is "He's a Vegan" , you're already so primed by the mixture of weirdness and mundanity that rather than trying to incorporate this new knowledge into any sort of coherent setting ruleset, you just go "Ah, yeah, Vegans".

[garbageconnoisseur]

Homeless LGBT couple is struggling and needs support!!!

Hey friends.

I feel like this past month was worse than the last and I can already tell that October is going to be rough as well. We are still homeless, still looking for a place to stay and regular income, and I am still sick, even after finally getting in to see two doctors this month. We have been burning out mentally and we've been in pain every day now. I need something to work out for us but everything I've tried has fallen through and mutual aid hasn't been coming in enough to help us slow down things getting worse. We haven't had much to eat, bills have been very late, our dog needs more medicine to stay healthy, and I just cannot be without shelter right now with how we've been.

While I recover and try to find a permanent solution to our issues, we really need support. Shelter is about $260 every 3 days lately, Jasper needs to visit the vet asap so he can get his prescription renewed, bills are overwhelming us, toiletries are running out, and we really need access to healthy food so I don't get sicker. Everything is too much, no jobs have been getting back to us, and I just can't handle this all without help. Any aid is appreciated, as are shares.

Venmo: @garbageconnoisseur

CashApp: $garbageconnoisseur

PayPal: @garbageconnoisseur

(Ask for Zelle. Please don't assume a lot of notes means we have our needs met and please, no hate or unsolicited advice. I cannot and will not try to handle it anymore and you will be blocked.)

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The fire between us | LN4

☃️ summary ━━━━━━━ Trapped in a Swiss cabin during a snowstorm, Lando and Y/N, who’ve been friends for less than a year, are left alone. As they play strip poker, hidden feelings surface, leading to a playful, intimate night where their connection deepens.

☃️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

☃️ word count ━━━━━━━ 7.4k

☃️ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

It was the week before Christmas, and the Swiss Alps had transformed into a winter wonderland. A luxurious cabin was nestled at the foot of the mountains, offering everything one could dream of—cozy fireplaces, panoramic views, and an atmosphere thick with the promise of festive memories. Lando had been the first to arrive. As the one who’d paid for the cabin and organized the trip, he had eagerly anticipated the getaway with their friend group. He loved skiing, but even more than that, he loved the idea of spending a few quiet days away from the hustle and bustle. More than anything, though, he was excited about being alone with her—Y/N.

From the moment they met less than a year ago through mutual friends, Lando had been captivated by her. She was different, making his heart race just a little faster whenever she was near. He tried to hide it—keeping his feelings buried beneath casual conversations and friendly smiles—but every time he saw her, his heart betrayed him. He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Despite his efforts to keep his feelings hidden beneath casual conversation and playful teasing, they simmered just below the surface, growing stronger each time they hung out.

But Y/N had no idea. At least, that’s what he thought. She treated him like a close friend—nothing more. They’d spent time together over the months, enjoying each other’s company, making memories, but it was always just... friendly. And Lando had become all too familiar with that painful distance—the fine line between friendship and something more that he had no idea how to cross.

That was until this trip.

When Y/N finally arrived, she was the second person to make it to the cabin. And just as she stepped out of her car, the snowstorm began. The storm had been forecasted, but it hit much harder than expected. Before long, the roads were impassable, and their friends were stuck on the other side of the mountain, unable to get to the cabin. Just like that, Lando and Y/N were alone together, stranded in the middle of nowhere, with only each other’s company to keep them entertained.

Y/N was still adjusting her coat, brushing the snowflakes from her hair as she walked inside, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Lando, who had been staring out the window with a faint smile, snapped out of his daze when she appeared in the doorway.

“Hey! It’s freezing out there,” she said, stomping her boots on the mat as she entered.

Lando couldn't help but grin, his heart skipping at the sight of her. “You're telling me. I wasn’t expecting this kind of snowstorm.” He glanced outside. The flakes were falling heavier now, swirling around in the night sky. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a while.”

Y/N laughed. “Great. I hope we’re stocked up on food. I’m not sure I can survive on just wine and Christmas cookies.”

Lando chuckled, holding the door open for her to come inside. "We've got plenty of food. We’re going to be fine. Don’t worry."

“And it looks like it’s just you and me for the next few days,” she said, her voice light but with a hint of something more—something he couldn’t quite place.

Lando smiled, trying to act nonchalant, but his pulse quickened. “I guess so. Should be fun,” he replied, glancing around the spacious cabin. The fire was already crackling in the living room, the tree twinkling with Christmas lights, and everything felt so cozy. But it was also... quiet. Too quiet. Just the two of them.

After they had settled in and exchanged pleasantries about the snowstorm, Y/N collapsed onto the couch, kicking off her boots and letting out a sigh of relief. “This place is amazing, Lando. I could live here.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Lando replied, smiling at her. “It’s the perfect place to get away.”

They exchanged a few casual words, laughing at some of the jokes their friends had sent through text. But as the night grew darker and the storm raged outside, they were left alone in the quiet of the cabin, with only the sound of the fire and the wind howling through the trees.

Y/N stretched out, glancing at Lando from across the room. “So, what now? We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. What should we do?”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with mischievous intent. “Well, we could play a game.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “A game? Like Monopoly or something?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, though his mind was already racing with possibilities. “Or something a little more... interesting.”

Her curiosity piqued, Y/N leaned forward. “What did you have in mind?”

Lando’s lips curved into a sly grin. “How about strip poker?”

Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. “Strip poker? Really?”

Lando chuckled, knowing how she might react. He’d teased her with ideas like this before, but never seriously. Tonight, however, it felt like the perfect opportunity to let the playful tension between them simmer into something more. “What? You scared?” he asked, his voice dipping into a low, teasing tone.

She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly thinking it over. “Scared? Of you? Please.” Y/N shot him a teasing grin of her own. “You sure you want to risk it?”

“I’m not scared. Are you?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. Let’s do it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lando grinned, gathering the cards. He wasn’t entirely sure how they got to this point, but there was no turning back now. He could already feel the playful, flirty energy between them, and it only made him want to tease her more. The game started innocently enough. They each took turns dealing the cards, laughing as they made their moves. At first, it felt just like any other game—light, easy, and full of jokes.

But as they started shedding clothes, something shifted. Lando couldn’t help but notice how Y/N’s eyes lingered on him just a little too long, how her lips curled into a teasing smile whenever he lost a round. And she was good—really good. Each time she won a hand, she would make a show of pulling off a layer of clothing, the way her body moved making Lando’s pulse spike in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge.

When Y/N was down to her tank top and leggings, she shot him a look. “Looks like I’m winning, Lando. Are you sure you’re alright with that?”

Lando could barely keep his eyes off of her. The way she smiled, the way she moved... everything about her made his heart race. “I’m just getting warmed up,” he said, trying to sound casual. “You should be worried.”

“Worried?” She let out a soft, melodic laugh, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I’m not the one losing clothes here.”

Lando grinned, trying to shake off the growing heat that he felt every time she looked at him. He could tell by the way she kept glancing at him that she was feeling the tension too. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it had become something else, something more dangerous, and he couldn’t seem to pull back. “It’s not over yet,” he said, his voice low.

Y/N shrugged, her lips curling up into a smile. “I’m not sure you can come back from this, but we’ll see.”

Finally, it was down to the last round. Both of them were now only in their underwear, the cards spread out between them on the floor. The fire crackled in the background, the only sound in the room except for their breathing.

“So,” Y/N said, her voice low, “you ready to lose?”

Lando swallowed hard. “Not yet,” he replied, trying to sound confident, though his mind was racing. The last layer of clothing between them felt like a barrier he couldn’t cross, but the tension was thick enough to slice with a knife.

They played their final hands, both of them taking risks, both of them desperately trying not to give in. And in the end, it was Y/N who won. She threw down her cards with a laugh, eyes sparkling.

“Well, looks like you’re the one who’s going to lose this time,” she said smugly, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

Lando stared at her, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “I’m just getting started.” Without another word, he closed the gap between them, pulling her into a kiss that was nothing like the playful teasing they had shared moments before. This kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with the intensity of everything that had been building up between them for months.

Y/N froze for a second, surprised by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into him, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The heat from the fire seemed to intensify as they deepened the kiss, their bodies pressed close together, the game now forgotten.

When they finally pulled apart, their faces flushed with more than just the warmth of the fire, Lando whispered, “I think I lost... but in the best possible way.”

Y/N’s smile softened as she traced the line of his jaw with her finger. “I think we both won,” she said quietly.

They decided to keep playing, though the silence between them was heavy, thick with unspoken words and unfinished moments. Lando could feel it in the way Y/N’s breath hitched slightly when he leaned closer, and in the way her fingers trembled just enough to be noticeable as she reached for another card.

This is it, he thought, his pulse quickening. One more round. One more chance to either lose everything or finally claim what he’d been wanting for so long.

“Your move,” Y/N said, her voice low but steady, her eyes locked on his. Her lips curved into a faint smile, teasing but laced with something deeper—something that sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando swallowed hard, his fingers brushing against the edge of the deck. He could feel the heat radiating off her, even from across the makeshift table they’d created on the floor. Her bra hugged her skin, the straps resting delicately on her shoulders, drawing his attention and making it impossible to focus on anything else. His own boxers felt like a damn prison at this point, constricting every thought and movement.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, her voice light but pointed.

He blinked, caught off guard, and forced a laugh. “Am I?”

Y/N tilted her head, her grin widening. “A little. You might want to focus. If you lose again, there won’t be much left to look at.”

Her words were playful, but there was an edge to them, a challenge that made his chest tighten. Focus, Lando, he told himself. But no matter how hard he tried, his gaze kept drifting back to her. To the way her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulder, the way her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire and whatever tension was simmering between them.

“I’m focused,” he said, trying to sound confident even though his heart was pounding. “Just... taking my time.”

“Mmhmm,” she replied, clearly unconvinced. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the ground, and the movement drew his attention to the way her bra shifted, revealing just a hint of skin.

God, he thought, how is she doing this to me?

He picked up his cards, his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped them over. Two pairs. Not bad, but not great. He glanced at Y/N’s hand, trying to gauge her expression, but she was too good. Her face was calm, composed, her eyes still locked on his with that same spark of mischief.

“Well?” she asked after a beat of tense silence. “Are you going to fold, or are you in this to the end?”

Lando hesitated, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the knowledge that this wasn’t just a game anymore. It was something more, something that had been building between them for months. And now, here they were, alone in this cabin, stripped down to the bare minimum, their bodies close enough to touch.

If I fold, he thought, then it’s over. And if I don’t...

He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed.

“I’m in,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his decision. “Alright then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She laid down her cards, and Lando’s stomach dropped. Three jacks. He couldn’t believe it. She’d beaten him again.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You’re good at this.”

Y/N laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his chest ache. “Told you you should’ve folded.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, forcing a grin. “Guess I’ll have to live with the consequences.”

He started to move, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, but Y/N stopped him with a single word.

“Wait.”

Lando froze, his hand hovering above his hips. “What?”

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite place. “Let’s make this interesting.”

His pulse quickened. “Interesting how?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she pushed herself up onto her knees, bridging the gap between them until she was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin.

“Take them off,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “But not yet. Just... stay like that.”

Lando’s throat went dry. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest, everywhere. “Like what?”

Y/N’s gaze flicked downward, lingering for a moment before returning to his face. “Tease me first. Make me wait.”

The request hung in the air between them, heavy and charged. Lando could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, the blood rushing through his veins. He wanted to protest, to say something clever or sarcastic, but the way she was looking at him—like she was daring him, testing him—made it impossible to think of anything else.

“You’re serious?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “Very.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The fire crackled softly behind them, the storm outside howling louder now, as if urging them to act. Lando could feel the weight of her gaze, the way it seemed to pierce through him, stripping away any pretense of control.

And then, without thinking, he reached for the hem of his boxers, tugging it upward just enough to reveal the barest hint of skin.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she watched him. “More,” she said, her voice low and husky.

Lando swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as he pulled the fabric up another inch. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest, everywhere. “Is this what you wanted?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his thigh. “Almost,” she said, her voice a sultry purr. “But not quite.”

Lando’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the heat of her hand on his skin, the sensation sending sparks of electricity coursing through his body. “What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

She smiled, slow and deliberate, her eyes locking on his. “Show me,” she said simply. “Show me how much you want this.”

Lando’s fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, his breath hitching as he hesitated for just a moment. His eyes remained locked on Y/N’s, her gaze steady and unyielding, daring him to go further. The firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that made her look even more alluring, more demanding. He couldn’t resist—not anymore.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid his boxers down, revealing himself completely to her. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with an electric tension that made his skin prickle. He was fully exposed now, every inch of him on display, and yet it didn’t feel humiliating or uncomfortable. Instead, it felt... thrilling. Dangerous.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took in the sight of him, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She was clearly caught off guard, though whether by surprise or arousal, Lando couldn’t tell. What he did know, though, was that her reaction only fueled his own desire. He was playing with fire, and he wasn’t about to back down.

“Satisfied?” he asked, his voice low and rough, practically dripping with challenge. The corner of his mouth lifted into a sly grin as he watched her squirm under his gaze.

Y/N blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I... I don’t think so,” she stammered, her voice uncharacteristically breathless. She leaned back on her hands, her legs crossed at the ankles, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. But the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, the way her eyes kept darting to him and then away, gave her away.

Lando chuckled softly, leaning forward just enough to shift the dynamic between them. “Come on, Y/N,” he said, his tone teasing. “You can’t expect me to believe you’re not impressed.”

She rolled her eyes, though the effect was ruined by the flush that spread across her neck. “Impressed? By what? Your poker skills? Because those definitely left something to be desired.”

He smirked, knowing she was just trying to play it cool. “Oh, I see. So you’re still mad that I lost. Fine. Maybe we should play another round. Even the odds.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting from playful to wary in an instant. “Another round? Really? You’re not exactly... dressed for the occasion.”

Lando leaned back, stretching casually, his movements slow and deliberate. “Who says I need clothes to play? Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s not like you’re shy about winning.”

Her breath caught again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. The heat in the room had reached an almost unbearable level, and it wasn’t just from the fire. With only her underwear on, every subtle movement was impossible to ignore. Lando’s eyes flicked to the way her pulse jumped at the base of her throat, the way her legs shifted restlessly against the floor as if she was trying to maintain control. She was fighting it, resisting the pull between them, but he could see the cracks forming in her resolve. And honestly? He loved watching her struggle.

“Alright,” she said finally, her voice trembling just enough to betray her nerves. “But this is your last chance. Don’t blame me if you lose everything.”

“Don’t worry,” Lando replied, his grin widening. “I’m used to betting big.”

They shuffled the cards once more, their fingers brushing more often than necessary. Each touch sent a jolt of anticipation through Lando, making him wonder if Y/N was feeling it too. The game began, but it was hard to focus with the way she kept stealing glances at him, her eyes lingering just a little too long on places they shouldn’t.

The first few rounds were tense, both of them holding their cards close to their chests. Lando tried to keep his confidence up, but the way Y/N’s breathing quickened with each passing moment made it difficult. She was getting flustered, clearly struggling to concentrate, and it only made him tease her more.

“You alright over there?” he asked after a particularly long pause, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Need a break? A glass of water, maybe?”

Y/N glared at him, though the effect was softened by the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I’m fine,” she snapped, though her voice wavered slightly. “Just... focusing.”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer until their knees nearly touched. “Focusing on what? The rules of the game, or... other things?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering to his before darting away. “Maybe both,” she admitted quietly, her cheeks burning brighter.

It was the admission Lando had been waiting for. Her honesty, her vulnerability, it was all he needed to see that she was just as affected by this as he was. And with that realization, his confidence surged.

“Well, then,” he said, his voice smooth and assured. “Why don’t we make it a little more interesting?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her bravado returning in full force. “Oh? And how do you propose we do that?”

Lando leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “How about... a forfeit? For every round you win, I have to do whatever you say. And for every round I win...” He paused, giving her a moment to process. “You have to do whatever I say.”

Her breath caught again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. She knew this was dangerous territory, but the way Lando’s eyes burned with mischief and intent was impossible to ignore.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lando grinned, his heart racing as he dealt the next hand. This was it. This was where the real game began.

The cards were shuffled again, the deck slick between their fingers as they settled into another round. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the cabin. The storm outside raged on, but inside, it was warm and intimate, the air thick with unspoken promises.

Lando leaned back slightly, his eyes fixed on Y/N. “Your move,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. There was a spark in his gaze that made her stomach flutter—a mix of challenge and something deeper she couldn’t quite name.

Y/N met his stare, her lips curling into a small smile. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, the stakes higher than ever before. Every movement, every word, seemed to carry more meaning than it should. She shifted slightly, her legs brushing against his under the makeshift poker table, and Lando’s breath hitched just barely.

She played her cards carefully, her mind working overtime to anticipate his moves. But even as she focused on the game, she couldn’t ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the room. His knee grazed hers again, deliberately this time, and she shivered despite herself.

“Bold play,” Lando murmured as he laid down his hand, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “But I think I’ve got you beat.”

Y/N glanced at his cards, her heart sinking slightly as she realized he was right. She bit her lip, trying to hide her disappointment, but Lando was already leaning forward, his expression teasing yet somehow serious.

“Looks like you owe me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. She knew whatever he had in mind wouldn’t be simple, and part of her reveled in the idea of giving him control.

Lando paused for a moment, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. “Take off your bra,” he said simply, his tone light but his eyes burning with intent.

Y/N froze for a second, her breath catching in her throat. The request was direct, unexpected, and yet… not entirely unwelcome. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a confidence she wasn’t sure she truly felt.

“That all?” she teased, her voice cool despite the way her pulse quickened.

Lando chuckled, low and deep, the sound sending a thrill through her. “For now,” he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. He was enjoying this, she realized—enjoying the way she fought to maintain her composure, the way she challenged him even as she gave in.

Y/N hesitated for just a moment longer, then reached behind her back. The clasp of her bra came undone easily, and she slid the straps down her arms, letting the fabric pool at her waist. She kept her posture relaxed, her shoulders straight, refusing to let him see how much his attention affected her.

Lando’s gaze dropped to her chest, his expression softening for a moment before he forced himself to meet her eyes again. “Gorgeous,” he said quietly, his voice almost reverent.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Y/N replied, her tone light as she tried to keep things playful. But there was an edge to her words, a hint of something raw and unspoken that made Lando’s breath hitch.

They sat like that for a moment, the tension between them palpable, the room feeling smaller with each passing second. Then Lando spoke again, his voice low and rough. “Another round?”

Y/N nodded, her heart racing as she picked up the cards. This time, there was no mistaking the electricity between them, no pretending that this was just a game. It was something more, something dangerous and thrilling, and she was all in.

The next few rounds passed in a blur. They teased each other mercilessly, their banter sharpening with every hand. But there was an underlying current of desire now, an awareness of how close they were, how little separated them except for the thin layer of her underwear and the rules they’d set.

Lando won again, his grin widening as he laid down his cards. “Looks like I get to collect my prize,” he said, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/N’s breath caught as she realized what that meant. “And what exactly is your prize?” she asked, her voice steady despite the heat pooling in her lower belly.

Lando leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I want to taste you.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and charged with meaning. Y/N felt her heartbeat accelerate, her skin tingling in response to his proximity. She should have said no, should have put a stop to this before it went any further. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. Not with him. Not when he looked at her like that, with such fierce intensity it stole her breath.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she said finally, her voice trembling just slightly. She was playing with fire, she knew that, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Lando’s grin widened, and he slid his hand along her thigh, his touch warm and insistent. “I want to make you come,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “with my tongue.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her entire body flooding with heat at his words. She could feel the flush spreading across her chest, her nipples tightening in response to his nearness. She wanted to say yes, wanted to give in to the hunger that had been building inside her since the moment they’d first kissed. But part of her hesitated, afraid of what it meant, afraid of how far this would go.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, fleeting kiss. “Never been more sure of anything,” he murmured against her lips.

Then, without waiting for her reply, he stood and pulled her to her feet. In one swift motion, he guided her backward until she was sitting on the edge of the couch, her legs dangling over the side. He knelt in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs, his gaze locked on hers.

Y/N’s breath hitched as Lando’s hands slid up her thighs, his touch warm and deliberate. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared down at him. His eyes were intense, almost predatory, and the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. “But if you don’t…”

If I don’t? Her mind raced, torn between the sudden rush of desire and the lingering caution that held her back. But then she met his gaze—those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see straight through her. There was no hesitation there, no doubt. Just pure, unfiltered need, and it was contagious.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Lando’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, and then he was moving, his hands sliding beneath her thighs as he gently urged them apart. Y/N sucked in a sharp breath as he knelt lower, his face now level with her aching core. The firelight danced across his features, casting shadows that made him look both dangerous and irresistible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration as his fingers grazed the edge of her underwear. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her at his words. His honesty was intoxicating, and it made her want to surrender completely. “Show me,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. “Show me how much you want this.”

His answer was immediate. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them aside, exposing her to the cool air again. Y/N gasped, her body tensing as his breath ghosted over her sensitive skin. Then, without warning, his mouth was on her, his tongue darting out to taste her.

“Oh!” The sound escaped her before she could stop it, a mix of surprise and pleasure that left her head spinning. Lando chuckled softly against her, the vibration sending another wave of sensation rippling through her. He teased her with his tongue, flicking and circling in lazy patterns that had her gripping the edge of the couch for support.

“Lando…” she moaned, her hips twitching as she tried to push herself closer to him. But he wasn’t done teasing her yet. His hands gripped her thighs tighter, holding her steady as he explored every inch of her with his mouth. His tongue delved deeper, curling and pressing in ways that made it impossible for her to think clearly.

Her breath came in short, jagged bursts, each one louder than the last. The fire crackled behind her, its warmth spreading through her body along with the overwhelming sensations Lando was stirring within her. He’s so good at this, she thought dimly, her mind fogging over with pleasure. So in control.

But just when she thought she might actually pass out from the intensity of it all, Lando changed his pace. Instead of the slow, deliberate movements that had been driving her wild, he began to move faster, his tongue darting in and out of her in a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. His teeth grazed lightly against her clit as he sucked, creating a new kind of friction that had her arching her back and crying out his name.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted, her words incoherent as her orgasm built and built inside her. Lando didn’t let up, not for a second. If anything, he intensified his efforts, his fingers brushing against her folds as his mouth worked furiously. The dual stimulation was too much—too perfect—and within moments, she was shattered.

“LAN-DO!” Her scream filled the cabin as her hips bucked against his face, her entire body trembling with the force of her release. It felt like everything inside her was exploding, over and over, until she was nothing but a quivering mess. Lando rode out her climax with ease, his mouth never leaving her as he licked and kissed until every last bit of tension had drained from her body.

When she finally collapsed back onto the couch, her chest heaving and her legs still shaking, Lando pulled away slowly, his lips wet and his expression smug. “Better than winning at poker?” he asked with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Y/N glared at him, though her smile gave her away. “Don’t get cocky,” she panted, batting his hand away playfully.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing and towering over her. “Round one was just the beginning.”

Before she could respond, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her onto his lap, positioning her so that she was straddling him. His erection pressed firmly against her core, already demanding attention, and Y/N couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, his voice low and husky as he nipped at her earlobe.

Y/N’s response was instant. She ground her hips against him, relishing the way his breath hitched and his grip tightened on her waist. “Show me,” she whispered, her voice laced with challenge. “Show me what else you’ve got.”

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand on her back and the other guiding himself, he lined his length up with her entrance. Y/N braced herself, her heart racing as she felt the blunt pressure of his tip against her slick folds. Then, with a deep groan, he pushed forward, filling her in one smooth thrust.

“Fuck,” she gasped, throwing her head back as the fullness hit her all at once. It was overwhelming—his size, his strength, the way he claimed her so utterly. She’d never felt anything like it, and the realization only heightened her arousal.

“You feel so good,” Lando growled, his voice rough with need as he pulled back and thrust into her again. “God, Y/N, you’re so tight.”

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he set a steady rhythm. Each stroke was deliberate, hitting all the right spots and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins. The firelight flickered across their entwined bodies, casting a golden glow that made everything seem even more intimate.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice breaking as she shifted her hips to meet his thrusts. “Please, Lando. Harder.”

He didn’t hesitate. With a growl of approval, he grabbed her hips and drove into her with renewed vigor. The slap of skin against skin echoed in the quiet cabin, mixing with their ragged breaths and the occasional moan that slipped past her lips. Y/N clung to him, her body writhing as she surrendered to the sensation.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she cried out, her voice rising with each thrust. Lando buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he fucked her with relentless determination. He was everywhere—his hands, his mouth, his cock—and it was too much. Too perfect.

“I’m going to come again,” she warned, her voice trembling as her orgasm began to build once more. “Lando, I’m—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a raw, primal demand. “Let go, Y/N. Let me feel you come around me.”

Those words were her undoing. With a cry that echoed through the cabin, she threw her head back and shattered around him. Her inner muscles clenched tightly around his cock as her orgasm tore through her, leaving her breathless and trembling.

Lando’s thrusts slowed as he watched her fall apart in his arms, his own release nearing. He buried his face in her neck, whispering sweet, frantic promises as he continued to move inside her. And then, with a final, desperate thrust, he came undone.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained as he spilled deep inside her. His whole body shuddered as he emptied himself into her, the sensation of being so intimately connected to her overwhelming.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies locked together as they caught their breath. Y/N pressed her forehead against his, her heart still racing as she tried to process everything that had just happened.

Lando and Y/N remained intertwined, their bodies still twitching with the aftershocks of their shared climax. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting a warm amber glow over them as they clung to each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between their lips.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their heartbeats slowing to a steady rhythm and the occasional pop of a log in the fireplace. The storm outside seemed distant now, its fury muted by the cocoon of warmth and intimacy they’d created within the cabin.

Y/N shifted slightly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across Lando’s back. Her skin was still flushed, her body languid with satisfaction, but her mind was racing. She couldn’t believe how deeply she had let herself go—how completely she had surrendered to him. And yet, it felt right. It felt inevitable.

What is this? she wondered, her thoughts a jumbled mess of emotions. What are we doing?

Lando pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes searching hers. His expression was soft, almost reverent, as if he were trying to drink in every detail of her face. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “You okay?”

She nodded slowly, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah. Just... catching my breath.”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek. “Same here.”

Their eyes held for a moment longer before Y/N broke the silence again. “You’re really bad at poker, you know that?” she teased, her tone light despite the heat still simmering between them.

Lando grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that playful way of his. “I thought I was pretty good at bluffing. Guess not.”

“You weren’t bluffing when you said you’d do anything to win, though,” she said, her voice dropping slightly as she remembered the intensity of his actions.

His grin faded, replaced by something far more serious. “No,” he admitted quietly. “I wasn’t.”

The air between them shifted, the playful tension giving way to something heavier. Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart racing as his words sank in. He wasn’t just talking about the game. He was talking about her.

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He shifted closer, his hand brushing her cheek with a tenderness that made her pulse quicken. His thumb traced her skin, his touch warm despite the chill lingering in the air. “You’re worth more than winning a game, Y/N. You’re worth everything.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her ribs. She wanted to say something—to tell him how much his words meant to her—but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a brief moment as his warmth enveloped her. For months, she’d ignored the flickers of possibility between them, convincing herself it was all in her head. But now, there was no hiding from it.

When she opened her eyes again, she found him watching her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. “Lando,” she started, her voice trembling slightly.

But he cut her off with a kiss, soft and lingering, as if he were savoring the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as they breathed each other in.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmured, his forehead resting lightly against hers. His lips curved into a soft smile, the teasing edge of his usual grin still there, but gentler now. “Just… let it happen.”

And for once, she did. She closed the distance between them, leaning into the warmth of his touch and the quiet certainty in his eyes. When their lips met, it was soft, tentative, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid.

The fire crackled in the background, but all she could feel was him—his warmth, his presence, and the promise held in the quiet stillness of the cabin.

Lando shifted again, rolling onto his back but keeping her close. Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, pulling her even tighter against him. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear was oddly comforting, grounding her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

“So,” she said after a while, breaking the silence with a tone that was equal parts playful and curious. “What happens now?”

Lando chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, lifting her head to look at him, “we can’t exactly keep playing strip poker. Not without clothes, anyway.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying her teasing. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean we’re out of games.”

Her eyebrow arched in question. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“How about truth or dare?” he suggested, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Seriously? You want to play truth or dare? After all that?”

“Why not?” he countered, his grin widening. “It’s a classic. And who knows? Maybe we’ll learn something new about each other.”

She considered his proposal for a moment, her curiosity piqued. “Alright,” she said finally, sitting up slightly so she could look at him. “Let’s do it. But fair warning—I don’t hold back.”

“Neither do I,” he replied, his tone confident. “Your move.”

She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before deciding. “Truth.”

Lando’s grin turned sly. “Alright... what’s the last thing you Googled?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the simplicity of his question. “Really? That’s your big question?”

“Yep,” he said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “Spill.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Fine. I Googled the best places to visit in Switzerland.”

“Huh,” he said, his expression thoughtful. “Planning a solo trip?”

“Maybe,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if there was anywhere else worth checking out while we’re here.”

Lando’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “Well, if you’re looking for recommendations, I’m your guy.”

“Good to know,” she said, tilting her head as she studied him. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Dare.”

Her grin widened, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright... I dare you to kiss me until I forget my own name.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he processed her challenge. Before he could respond, she slid her hand along his jaw, guiding his face toward hers. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slower, deeper than before—a kiss that left no room for doubt about how much she wanted him.

He groaned softly into her mouth, his hands gripping her waist as he deepened the kiss. Every movement, every touch, seemed deliberate, as if he were etching the memory of this moment into his very soul.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her breathing heavy as she looked up at him. “Okay,” she said breathlessly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think you win this round.”

Lando chuckled, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. “Careful,” he warned, his tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good,” she said, her smile turning wicked. “Because I like it hot.”

Before he could respond, she kissed him again, her hands sliding down to his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him. The fire roared behind them, the storm raged outside, but all that mattered was the connection they shared—a connection that was growing stronger with every passing moment.

They stayed like that for a while, lost in each other, the world beyond the cabin fading into obscurity. And as the night wore on, they continued to explore the depths of their desire, pushing boundaries and discovering new ways to bring each other pleasure.

It was a night unlike any other, a night that would stay with them long after the snow had melted and the fire had burned out. A night that marked the beginning of something extraordinary—something that neither of them could have predicted but that felt utterly, undeniably right.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently

Summary: You and Price take your relationship to the next level. It might be the best decision you've ever made.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral, first time sex, unprotected(ish) sex, reader has an implant, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, the author is a bit rusty writing smut.

A/N: It's finally here. It's finally arrived, the moment we've all been waiting for! Uh, yeah, it's mostly badly written smut with just a little plot thrown in there. So...I hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your attention is pulled from your book as the couch sinks on either side of you, two bodies joining you. You glance up from your book as an arm drapes itself across the back of the couch behind you. Your eyes flicker between Gaz and Johnny, mischievous grins on their faces. 

“We heard you have a date this weekend.” Gaz says, leaning in closer. 

Your face warms at his words. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a date...” 

“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks. 

“Do ye have anythin’ to wear?” Johnny asks. 

Their questions give you pause. The most formal thing you have are jeans and, though you doubt Price would care if you showed up in sweatpants, you would like to have something nice to wear. 

“Come on.” Gaz says, slapping your thigh before standing. “We’re going shopping.” 

“What?” You glance between him and Johnny as they stand over you. 

“Already got permission from Price.” Johnny says. “So come on.” He grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet easily. “Let’s get goin’, kitten.” 

Your cheeks warm at the pet name, Johnny’s hand settling on your lower back to steer you from the rec room. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow, grabbing a couple things from your room before you leave the barracks with them to a car parked outside. It’s different from the car you and Price had taken to town last weekend. Of course, they probably all have their own vehicles, or at least a few at their disposal. 

“I’m driving.” Gaz says, plucking the keys from Johnny’s hand. 

“Aww, ye never let me drive!” Johnny pouts. 

“Yeah, because with our luck you’ll traumatize her so badly, she’ll never want to leave again.” Gaz says, opening the driver’s side door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the dejected look on Johnny’s face as you get into the back, Johnny muttering the entire way to the passenger side. 

“I’m no’ that bad of a driver.” Johnny says, buckling his seatbelt. 

“Yeah, but both you and Simon seem to be in agreement that the speed limit is a suggestion, not a law.” Gaz says as he turns on the car. “I’d like to make it there and back in one piece, thank you. Besides, Price would have both our heads if anything happened to our girl on our watch.”

Your cheeks warm as you meet Gaz's gaze through the rear view mirror. Your heart flutters at the look in his eyes, the dedication and protectiveness shining in them. 

“I wouldnae let anything happen to ye.” Johnny says, reaching back to squeeze your knee for a moment. 

You stare out the window of the car as Gaz drives towards town, half listening to the conversation in the front seat. You're beginning to recognize landmarks, buildings, areas between the base and town despite it only being your second trip. They'd be proud of you, you think. At least if something happened, you'd be able to give a landmark. 

The farmlands fade into the city and soon Gaz is parking on the street in front of a shop. You take Gaz's hand as he helps you out of the car, lacing your fingers together. Soap holds the door to the shop open, letting you and Gaz walk through first. 

It's a nice boutique filled with all sorts of formal wear. You wonder how they even knew about this place, or if they had done some research beforehand. Both make you feel honored that they would even go to those lengths just for you. 

They are going to be your pack soon. 

Packs do this sort of thing for each other. They take care of each other, spoil each other, make each other happy. It’s hard to be a good pack if one member is unhappy. 

“Good afternoon.” One of the workers approaches you. “My name is Emily. Is there something I can help you find today?” 

“Our omega has a date with our alpha this weekend.” Gaz says, smiling down at you. “She needs something to wear.” 

The worker, Emily, smiles at you. “How exciting! Did you have anything in mind? Style, color, anything like that?”

“Probably nothing too fancy,” You say, eyeing the racks. “And, probably a dress.”

“Alright, we've got lots of options for that. Let's take a look and you can try some on.” Emily says. 

Gaz keeps hold of your hand as you follow Emily through the racks, looking at some of the options. Johnny goes off on his own, perusing the racks himself. 

“Is there a certain color you have in mind?” Emily asks you.

You hum in contemplation, looking at the many racks. You're not sure what color Price would like, or if he even has a favorite. 

“His favorite color is blue, like a dark navy blue.” Johnny answers for you. “Though, I think he'd like you in any color.” 

You can't help the way your cheeks warm a bit at Johnny's words. You realize you don't even know their favorite colors. There's still so much about them that's a mystery to you. 

“What's your favorite color?” You ask, looking up at Gaz. 

“I don't think I have just one.” He says, running his hand over a sequin covered dress on the rack in front of you “I like warm colors. Reds, oranges, purples.”

“Like a sunset.” You say, looking at a tag on one of the dresses, nearly choking at the price. 

Gaz gently removes the tag from your hand, giving you a look as you meet his gaze. “Don't even worry about it, love.” He says quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 

“My favorite color is green.” Johnny says, appearing next to you suddenly. 

“Let me guess, Ghost’s is black.” You say. 

Johnny's mouth twitches. “Now how'd you come to guess that?” 

You shrug, unable to hide your grin. “Call it intuition.” 

Emily takes you to the changing rooms, the boys taking seats outside to wait for you to try on the dresses you've chosen so far. You pick a sleeveless, blue, knee-length dress first with a ruched skirt. You already don't like it, but you know the guys will want to see it regardless. 

You feel nervous, strangely exposed as you step out of the dressing room and make your way to where the guys are sitting. They both straighten up as you approach, Johnny’s eyes immediately on your legs. Gaz let's out a low whistle as his eyes scan your figure, ending on your legs as well. 

“What?” You ask concerned as you stare down at your own legs thinking the worst, like how you might have missed a spot shaving or something. 

“Nothin’ love,” Gaz says, unable to lift his gaze from your legs. “Just never seen you in anything but long pants before.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. It's true, the climate had yet to allow for anything but long pants. Even to sleep, you found yourself too cold without long sleep pants. 

“Christ, you've got gorgeous legs, kitten.” Soap says, letting his eyes trail your form. “Keepin’ those hidden from us?” 

Your face feels like it's on fire as they stare at you, and quickly turn to face the large mirror across from them in an attempt to steady the butterflies in your stomach. 

“What do you think?” Emily asks, stepping up next to you. 

“It's a little too...churchy for a date.” You say smoothing your hands over the skirt. “Definitely need something fancier than this.”

You try on a few of the others, but none of them are right. Too short, too long, too formal, not formal enough. Johnny brings you more to try, a couple sticking out, but you're not sold on any of them. 

The last dress you have yet to try on catches your eye as you pull it off the hook. It's a deep blue color, almost black. It's long sleeved and covers your front entirely, but the back is open. It's short, the skirt hem long enough to cover your ass, but you wouldn't dare bend over. It hugs your figure, accentuating the curves and lines of your body. 

Your cheeks are warm as you step out of the changing room, both Gaz and Johnny going slack-jawed as they stare at you. Even Emily looks in awe as you stand in front of them. 

“I think you've found the one, love.” Gaz says, his eyes trailing your form. “Give us a spin.”

You do a slow turn, not missing the way their eyes widen in the mirror when they see the back, Johnny still frozen as you turn back to face them. 

“How do you feel?” Emily asks, stepping up to you. 

“Good.” You say, your face still warm. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” She says, looking you over. “I think you've hit the mark with this one. Let me grab shoes and we'll put the whole look together.”

You turn to face the mirror as she steps away, your eyes meeting Gaz's as he steps up to you. 

“You look fantastic, love.” He says, leaning in close over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear. Goosebumps form on your skin as his fingers slowly trail up the line of your spine. “Price is going to want to devour you instantly as soon as he sees you in this one.”

You shiver at his words, biting your lip as his fingers splay out across your upper back. “You think so?”

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “He won't be able to keep his hands off you. Gonna drive him insane, making him sit through dinner looking like a delicious dessert.” 

You fear you might start smoking from how warm you feel, glad for Emily's reappearance. You try on the shoes she brings, opting for the shorter heels for the sake of your own dignity. 

Johnny distracts you as Gaz pays for the items, spending far too much on you but neither will let you complain. It's what they're supposed to do. 

They are your pack after all. 

“What about lingerie?” Johnny asks, turning to look at you as you sit in the car. 

Your face burns at his question. You hadn't thought about that bit. 

“Gotta dress up the whole fit.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Lay off her, perv.” Gaz says, smacking Johnny's chest. “He's right though, gotta make sure the whole outfit matches.”

You feel like you might implode in the backseat. You might not make it to Saturday at this rate. 

You wake early on Saturday. You don't have to be up early. There's nothing going on until tonight, no need for you to rise earlier than the sun. Yet, you can't help the anticipation burning in your stomach, the nervous fluttering in your chest. Tonight you're going to sleep with Price for the first time. Tonight you'll allow him closer than you've ever allowed anyone. 

You have an outfit, you have fancy underwear, even new shoes. You're not sure how you want to wear your hair. You're not sure on makeup either, though Price has seen you plenty without it and has yet to offer any complaints. 

You grab your phone, laying in bed and scrolling hair tutorials until the sun comes up and you start hearing movement in the hallway. You don’t bother changing, pulling on shoes before stepping out. You are hungry, even after spending half the day in town and eating dinner out with Gaz and Johnny yesterday. You slip out the door, coming face to face with Ghost. You tilt your head back, staring up at him. 

“Didn’t expect to see you.” He grumbles. “Figured you’d be busy getting ready.” 

“I’ve got like ten hours until I have to be ready.” You say, blinking up at him. “It doesn’t take that long.” 

He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Come on.” 

You follow him out of the barracks, but you find yourself not having to speed walk quite as fast to keep up with him today. 

“Are you upset?” You ask, kicking up your pace a bit so you can walk side by side with him. 

“About what?” He asks. 

“Price and I.” You say. 

“Why would I be?” He sounds genuinely baffled that you’re asking him. 

You shrug. “You’re an alpha in the pack too, and I didn’t really ask anyone but Price.” 

“Price is your alpha.” He says, as if it’s the most straightforward thing in the world. He’s not wrong, Price is the only one that really matters when it comes to you, since he’s the pack alpha, and he’ll be the one claiming you. 

“Would you ever want to be?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He meets your gaze as he opens the door to the mess, not answering as you slip into the hall. He stands closer to you than he normally does as you get in line for food, tailing you like a shadow as you find Johnny among the drowsy and hungover soldiers in the mess. 

You take a seat across from him, Ghost taking his spot next to Johnny. You can feel the nerves beginning to take hold as you eat, thinking about your date tonight. It’s not like you really have to impress Price much, though you suppose you could make him dislike you rather easily. You’d rather avoid that situation, as there’s no getting out of mating and being claimed by him. You’re going to be part of his pack whether he likes you or not. 

What if he finds you boring? You’re not even sure what you could talk about. It’s not like you do much, and he already knows most everything he can about you. The only thing you have to talk about are things you’d rather not discuss during your first date. You’d prefer not to discuss them at all. 

“You’ll be fine.” Johnny says as you walk back to the barracks. “Just get ‘im talking, and ye won’t need tae worry about gettin’ a word in yourself.” 

Johnny’s words do make you giggle. You’re sure Price has so much more to talk about than you do. You barely know anything about him in general. 

It’s ironic that you’re more nervous about dinner than you are about the fact Price is going to take your virginity tonight. 

You did ask for this. It’ll be good, getting to know him before your heat starts. The idea of going through your heat with a virtual stranger is terrifying to you, and Price had so willingly offered to do this so that doesn’t happen, so you feel more comfortable with being mated and claimed by someone you at least somewhat know. This is your chance to get to know your pack alpha, your alpha before you’re forced to. This is your chance to make your own decision, to have some control over a life that’s been dictated for you this far. 

You spend the morning in a nervous panic, looking up tips online, tutorials, possible questions he might ask and thinking up answers that will make you sound interesting at least. Answers that won’t just be parroting things that he already knows. Gaz brings you lunch, letting you continue to prepare for your date, knowing the chances of you having a breakdown if you’re forced around people are high right now. 

You give yourself ample time to get ready, showering and moisturizing, making sure you smell clean and look nice. You do your hair, taking your time to make yourself look decent. You opt for minimal make up, wanting to make yourself seem like you at least put a little effort into your looks. 

You're strapping on your shoes when the knock comes at the door. Six o'clock sharp, just as you expected. You take a deep breath, adjusting your dress before you open the door.

John is standing on the other side, dressed in a button up shirt and slacks. You look him over, the fresh scent of cologne reaching your nose. His eyes rake your form, his scent slipping through the cologne as his gaze darkens a bit. Gaz was right. He does look like he wants to devour you. 

“You clean up nicely.” You say, looking him over again. His shirt hugs his muscles nicely, his pants obviously tailored to fit him. You haven't seen him in anything but fatigues and civilian clothes so far. 

“Was going to say the same to you.” He says, lips pulling up into a smile. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Hungry?” He asks, offering you an arm. 

“Always.” You say, taking his arm, letting him lead you towards the rec room. 

The lights inside are dimmed, the table usually reserved for games set up with a tablecloth and candles, along with two plates covered with cloches, and a bottle of wine. You're not sure when he managed to procure the wine, or maybe he had it saved and decided this was as good a time as any. 

“Wow.” You say, impressed by the effort he obviously put into everything. 

“I bribed the boys out of here for a few hours.” He says, leading you to the table. “Wasn't easy.”

“I bet.” You say, sitting down in one of the chairs, letting him push it in for you. 

He pours you both glasses of wine before taking the cloches off the plates. You blink in surprise at the meal on the plate. Spaghetti, a salad, and bread. It's so simple, yet it takes you right back to weeknight dinners at home. 

“You made this?” You ask as he takes the seat across from you. 

He nods. “I've amassed many skills over the years. I'm no five star chef, but I can throw things together in a pinch.”

“Well it looks good.” You say, picking up your fork. 

It tastes good too. It's so simple, yet it's one of the best things you've eaten in the last month. You miss a lot of things about America, and the food is starting to be one of those. 

You and John make small talk as you eat, the wine warming your body and easing your nerves. 

“How long has it been,” You ask him as you clear your plate. “Since you were with an omega last?”

“Two years.” He says, taking a sip of wine. 

Your eyes widen in surprise. You know they've been with omegas in the past, taking advantage of barrack bunnies and the swaths of willing omegas you know populate near military bases. You just hadn't thought it would be that far back in the past.

“Right around the time the task force was created.” He continues. “We were too busy bonding and working on the task force, by the time we had a moment long enough for anything like that, we didn't need them anymore.”

“That must have been torture.” You say, staring at him wide eyed. 

“We're trained for that sort of thing.” He says with a smile. “How to fight off those urges, those needs. When you're in the field, something like that could get you killed. You don't pass selection into the SAS until you can show mastery over those skills.”

“Damn.” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “Still, it couldn't have been easy.”

“It can be hard, once you've been with an omega, to go without. But that's just part of the job.” 

“Well, I suppose that's partly why I'm here.” You say, huffing out a laugh. 

“Perhaps.” He says. “I'm certain we're not getting the full story.”

The double meaning isn't lost on you. There's a lot they don't know about you, things that are safer buried deep where they can't hurt anyone. Things you'd like to keep buried for the rest of time. 

“It’s nothing...bad is it?” You ask, searching his gaze. 

“I’d like to think not,” He says. 

But... 

You don’t need to hear him say it. You know it’s there, lingering at the end of that statement. You wonder how many times he’s been in these situations, forced to place blind trust in someone and hope they have the best intentions in mind. You’re all too familiar with those sorts of situations. Putting blind trust in strangers was your life purpose as soon as you presented as an omega. 

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He says, staring at you with such conviction you can’t help but believe him. “You’re part of our pack, which makes you part of this team, even if bureaucracy says otherwise. We take care of each other, and that includes you. You’re our omega, regardless of whatever the endgame is for this initiative.” 

You feel almost breathless at his words, at his declaration of loyalty to you. You know how much loyalty means to someone like him, the kind of promise words like that uphold. They’d give their lives to defend you. You’d fight to defend them too, if it came down to it. Not that you could do much, but you’d try. 

“You’re my omega.” John says, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “I take care of what's mine.”

You nod, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. “I know. You've...you've been a better alpha than I could have ever hoped for. Despite everything you've been kind and caring and understanding. I know some things we learned at the institute weren’t right, but...I was expecting a lot worse.”

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I'm glad I could prove that wrong. I know this situation is weird and less than ideal, but I fear I'll have to tell Kate she was right. She did pick a good omega.”

You smile, preening a bit under his praise. “That’s all I can try to be.” 

“You can be so much more than that.” He says, lifting your hand to his lips. His beard tickles your skin as he presses a line of kisses across the back of your hand before turning it, kissing across your palm to your wrist. He presses his nose against the skin there, inhaling deeply. “You’re sure, about tonight?” 

Your fingers brush his cheek as he holds your hand against his face. Your heart is thudding your throat at the proximity, those nervous flutters starting in your stomach again. He’s giving you an out, a chance to take back what you had asked for. You know he wouldn’t blame you. He was more than willing to wait for your heat to start, for when you had no choice, when it would mean less because you would be desperate and needy for him. 

You don’t want that, though. You want him to want you before his instincts tell him he does. You want to know he’s not just fulfilling a duty, scratching an itch that’s been tickling him for two years now. You want him to want you as you are now. You want him to choose you. 

“Yes.” You say, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. “Just...be gentle with me?” 

“Of course.” He says, kissing your palm again. “You change your mind at any time, you tell me, yeah?” 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” He takes your hand in his again, standing from his seat. 

Nerves mix with excitement as he pulls you to your feet with him, stepping up close to you. His hand lifts, tilting your chin up. Your stomach flutters as you meet his gaze, his eyes warm and soft as he stares at you. Affection shines in them as his thumb brushes your lip before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is short and sweet, like the ones you’ve shared with him before. Yet, at the same time it feels different. There’s warmth beginning to blossom under your skin, the kiss not just a simple sign of affection this time. It’s the overture, the appetizer, just a teasing taste of what’s to come. 

You hold his hand as he leads you down the hallway, heels clacking on the tile floor. It makes your face warm, the thought that they all know what it means, they can hear it and they know what’s about to happen. They know where you’re going, what you’re about to do. 

John opens his door, motioning for you to enter. You haven’t been in any of their rooms yet, you haven’t invaded their own sacred spaces. Your steps are slow and cautious as you breach that barrier, John’s scent washing over you as you step into his room. 

It’s neat and tidy, just as you expected it would be. It’s not laid out all that differently from your own, though perhaps a bit more organized and clinical than yours. There’s a shelf next to his nightstand, stuffed with books and what you can assume are souvenirs from places he’s been. There’s stacks of papers on the desk, his clothes and shoes tucked away neatly in their places. His bed is slightly bigger than yours, and you wonder if that’s a perk of his status, or if he pulled some strings once he learned he was getting an omega. 

The door clicking shut draws your attention back to John, the click of the handle a finality. You’re doing this. There’s no going back now. 

Not that you want to. 

John steps up to you, staring down at you. You stare up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest on your waist, his touch hot through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks, voice rumbling in his chest. 

You nod, your hands slowly sliding up his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his dress shirt. “Yes.” 

His lips meet yours, beard tickling your skin as he kisses you. You let him lead, leaning into him as he pulls you closer against his chest. He’s so warm, so firm under your hands as you grip his shoulders. His hand slides from your hip to your back, a gasp parting your lips as his calloused fingers touch the bare skin of your back. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. He tilts his head, taking advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes like wine, a quiet sound leaving your throat as he pulls you tighter against him, pressing your body into his. You can feel all of him, the hard ridges, the strength in his body as he cages you in his arms. Your head is spinning, intoxicated purely by the smell and taste of him. 

Something rumbles deep in his chest, your entire body shivering in response. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your hips pressed flush against his. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. You’ve been able to smell the musky tinge of arousal in his scent all evening, and you wonder how long he’s been hard. Has it been since he saw you? Or has he been thinking about this all day? 

The thought thrills you, makes your omega preen in the back of your mind. You did this. Your alpha is all worked up because of you. 

A whimper leaves your lips as his hand slips lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass. He mumbles a curse against your lips before they blaze a path down the line of your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head, bearing your throat for him. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest, his hand squeezing your ass. The sound has your omega practically belly up, the dampness between your thighs intensifying as your scent gets heavier in the air. 

John groans against your throat, teeth nipping at your neck just over your scent gland. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans, his hand on your ass guiding your hips to grind against his. “Such a good omega.” 

You whine at the praise, hands blindly sliding down his chest to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers are trembling slightly from excitement, fumbling as you attempt to get his shirt off. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the warmth of him pressed against you. 

“Easy pup.” His voice rumbles against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin before he pulls back, hands taking over to strip him of his button up and undershirt. 

You lick your lips as his skin is revealed to you, your hand automatically lifting to touch him. You hesitate for a half a second but he makes no move to stop you. Your eyes trail over his form, over the many, many scars that decorate his skin like some kind of macabre painting. Lines and jagged slices, the telltale star shaped marks of bullet wounds. Cuts and nicks from knives or bullets, you can’t tell the difference. 

Your fingers settle on a rather large scar on his side, starting at the base of his ribs and curling around his side. It’s an old scar, but the skin is still rough and uneven. Whatever had caused it, it took a chunk out of him. You don’t want to think about it, about how every scar could have been a close call. How many times he’s been on the brink of death. 

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your fingertips, his beard tickling your skin. “Tonight is about you.” 

He pulls you close again, leaning down to press his lips to yours. His hands are warm against your back as he wraps himself around you again, trapping your hands against his bare chest. Your nails dig into his skin as his hands sink lower, grabbing handfuls of your ass. He groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. He presses you backwards, and you trust him to guide you until your legs hit the side of his bed. 

“Gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” He growls, his voice rough around the edges as his alpha slips through. 

“Yes, alpha!” You gasp against his lips, your head tilting back in submission. 

“Always such a good omega for me.” He praises you, teeth nipping at your throat. “Good omegas kneel for their alphas.” He says, pushing you backwards so you plop down on his bed. “But a good alpha,” He slowly lowers himself before you, dropping to one knee, then the other as his hands wrap around your ankles. “Kneels for his omega.”

Your face warms as you stare down at him, unable to do anything but watch as his hands make quick work of your shoes, setting them neatly beside the bed. His skin is rough against yours as his hands drag up your legs, slowly parting them. He moves himself closer, kneeling between your parted thighs. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he reaches up, pushing on your stomach until you're laying flat on his bed. He can see up your skirt now, and you're silently glad for the lacy panties Johnny had insisted on. 

“Do you trust me?” His lips brush your inner thigh as his hands pause just at the hem of your skirt where it's ridden up almost to your hips. 

“Yes, alpha.” You say, lifting your head to stare down at him. 

He meets your gaze as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his hands continuing to press upwards until your dress is hiked around your waist. Your heart is fluttering rapidly in your chest as you stare down at him, his gaze leaving your eyes to stare at the soaked lace barely covering your most private parts. 

His hands leave your hips to curl around the lace, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric snaps easily, the shreds falling to the floor. Your lip part as you stare at him in shock.  

“I'll buy you a new pair.” He says, his hands gripping your thighs to pull them further apart. 

The cool air in the room hits your slicked folds, making you shudder. He's barely touched you and already you can feel how slick you are. His lips press against your inner thigh again, blazing a path upwards. His gaze meets yours again as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds. 

You gasp at the foreign sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp. 

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You let your arms give out, laying flat on the bed again. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself. Not since before you left the institute four months ago. 

You don’t last very long. 

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to John’s face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm. 

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His beard is shiny with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again. He lets out a chuckle, the scent of your arousal washing over him. 

“Fuckin sweet as sugar, love.” He says as he pushes himself up from between your legs, his body folding over yours on the bed. 

His face presses into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your pussy flutters at the thought of him claiming you now, sinking his teeth into your skin to mark you as his forever. He could. It would be so easy for him to do it. His tongue laves over the skin covering your scent gland, a shiver running through you. Your arms wrap around him, holding him against you as your scents mingle, musky with arousal. 

“Alpha...” You whine, your hips pressing up against the bulge in his pants. He’s fully hard now, the fabric of his pants providing delicious friction against your folds. 

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your throat before he pushes himself up over you. “Soon, love.” He says, moving until he’s standing in front of you. “Think you’re a bit overdressed still.” 

Your eyes dart down to his pants. “So are you.” 

He smirks, his hands dropping to your waist, slowly pushing your dress up higher. You let him slip it over your head, lifting your arms to help him. You’re bare before him, warmth spreading through your veins as he stares down at you. Your hands lift, coming to rest on his thighs. You can feel the muscle through the fabric, the strength of him beneath your hands. How easily he could take control, pin you down and take what he wants with little regard for you or your pleasure. How easily he could hurt you, snap your bones like they’re toothpicks, bruise and batter your body without even straining a muscle. 

Yet he stands here, patiently watching as your hands move closer and closer to the prominent bulge in his fitted pants. He doesn’t even twitch as your hand cups his hard length, your breath stuttering at the sheer size of him. He’s big like most alphas are, or so you’ve heard. 

His eyes stare into you as you undo his belt, popping the button on his pants open. He finally moves as you pull down the zipper, helping you tug his pants and briefs down. His cock stands at attention, almost as stiff as he is. You stare at his veiny cock with wide eyes, the tip flushed almost red with how hard he is. 

“Christ.” You breathe, staring at him in awe. 

You did that. 

“Easy, love.” He says, leaning down to wrap an arm around your waist. “I said tonight was about you.” 

He moves you so you’re laid out on the bed, your head hitting his pillow. The scent of him floods your nose as he joins you on the bed, the frame creaking as he kneels between your legs. Nerves twist in your stomach as you continue to stare at his cock bobbing between his thighs as he runs his hands along your legs. It’s going to hurt, you know that. It suddenly seems daunting, this request. At least during your heat you’d be so out of it with need you wouldn’t really feel anything. And you’d have plenty of slick to help. 

“None of that.” He says, squeezing your thighs gently. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 

You nod, swallowing thickly. 

“We’ve got more work to do before we reach that point. I’m not just going to stuff my cock into you like some needy pup.” He stares at you. “You tell me and I’ll stop, alright?” 

You nod again. “Yes, alpha.” 

Your breath hitches as his hands reach the junction of your thighs, one moving to your stomach, the other dragging through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. They’re so much thicker than your own, your pussy clenching as he presses against the entrance. 

“Relax for me, love.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your stomach with his thumb. 

His finger presses into you and your lips part at the intrusion. You clamp tight around his finger, making him groan. 

“Easy.” He says, his thumb moving to circle your clit. 

A breathy whine leaves your lips as his finger presses deeper into you, reaching further than you ever could. Your hand reaches up to thread through his hair, letting the short cropped strands slide through your fingers. It’s softer than you imagined, though you expect he too had spent the afternoon preparing for tonight as well. The mental image of him lathering himself in moisturizer would have made you laugh if his finger hadn’t brushed against a spot inside you that has your hips lifting off the bed. 

He leans down, lips blazing a path up your stomach, between your breasts to your throat. He swallows your moans as he works you open with his fingers, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into your wet pussy only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel it building within you, heat burning through your veins. Price groans against your lips as your nails scratch his scalp, his cock leaking against your thigh. You want him, need him inside of you. You need to feel him, you need to be close to him. 

“Alpha, please.” You whimper, tugging at his hair. 

He stares down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Please, what?” 

“Need you.” You whimper, grinding against his hand. “Please, sir.” 

Price closes his eyes, letting out a groan. His cock twitches against your thigh, his fingers slipping from you. He breathes out a curse, shifting to open his nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube, sitting back on his knees to squirt some into his hand. You’re plenty slick, but you watch as he rubs the lube on his cock, tossing the bottle back into the open drawer. 

He kneels between your thighs again, staring down at you as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. You feel intoxicated, your head spinning from the intensity of his scent around you and the knowledge of what’s about to happen. 

Price folds his body over yours again, the head of his cock brushing your folds. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, parting your thighs further for him as his tip catches on your opening. Your hands grip his shoulders as he presses into you, the stretch stinging a bit as he works you open. This is it. There’s no going back now. 

You don’t want to. 

You whimper quietly as he pushes into you, nails biting into his skin. It’s too much, yet you can’t get enough of it as he sinks further in. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from your lips staring down at your face. 

“Alright?” He asks, stilling where he is. 

You nod. “Just need a moment. You’re really big.” 

His lips twitch up into a smile, a pleased growl rumbling through his chest. “Don’t start talking like that, love.” He says, leaning down to press kisses to your face. 

“Or what?” You ask, your nails digging harder into his skin. 

“I might not be able to control myself.” He growls, his alpha slipping out around the edges of his voice. 

Your pussy clenches at his words, walls clamping down around him. He lets out another growl, hiking your leg up over his hip. It forces him deeper into you, your breath catching at the feeling of him spreading you open. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, rocking your hips to take him even deeper into you. 

John’s arms frame your head as he presses his body against yours. Your arms slip around his back, legs locking around his waist as he begins to move slowly, working himself deeper and deeper into you until he’s pressed flush against you. He stills for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as you both breathe. You’re trembling just slightly, overwhelmed with being so close to him, to your alpha. The pain and discomfort is gone, replaced by burning heat as desire pulses through your veins. 

“Please, alpha.” You whimper. 

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, omega.” 

Your skin is slick with sweat already as he begins to rock his hips into you. Your hands press into his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves. It feels good, the friction of your bodies, the way he stretches you open with every thrust. Your head is spinning with pleasure at the thought of being so close to another person, being so connected with someone else. 

Not just someone else, with your alpha. 

The wet squelch of your pussy as he thrusts into you is loud, the mattress creaking as he picks up speed. You’re trembling, your thighs squeezing around his hips as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You’re not sure how he’s lasted this long, especially without any sort of release for himself yet tonight. 

Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.

You’re not sure how he manages it. You couldn’t have that kind of control. Not after this. Not after knowing how good it can feel, how good he can make you feel. 

“Fucking feel so good.” He grunts, his breath fanning her ear. His own skin is slicked with sweat, muscles twitching under her hands. “So fucking tight and warm.” 

“John!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as he picks up the pace even more, his hips snapping against yours. 

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good omega? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, staring down at you. 

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the night. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes. 

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!” 

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck. 

The smell of sex, arousal, sweat, and your own combined scents are heavy in the air. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around John as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still. 

“Alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat. 

You nod, slowly unwinding yourself from around him. “Yeah. ‘M good.” 

“Fucking Christ, a man could get addicted to that.” He says, lifting his face from your neck. “Sweet little omega.” 

Your face warms more than it already feels, and you lean into his touch as his fingers brush your cheek. 

“Let me go get something to clean this mess up with.” He says, pushing himself up so he’s kneeling. 

You can’t help but giggle as his joints pop and he lets out a groan at the effort. “Need a break, old man.” 

His eyes flash playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Going with the old man insults again, huh?” 

You give him a look. “You’re the one grunting while getting up.” 

You let out a surprised yelp as he brings his hand down on your thigh, the skin tingling as he gets up. “I’ll show you old man.” He murmurs as he heads for his en suite. 

You bite your lip as you begin to feel his release slipping out of you, the feeling causing desire to stir in your stomach once more. 

John tsks as he comes back, wiping the mess between your thighs. “Needy little thing.” He practically purrs, stepping away to toss the rag into the bathroom sink before he returns, climbing back onto the bed.

You press as close to him as you can, nuzzling into his neck. Your limbs are still twitching a bit, your mind buzzing from the aftermath of what had just transpired. John wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You press a gentle kiss to his neck, earning a rumble in response. Your own rumble starts up as you purr contently, tossing a leg over his hip to allow you to get as close to him as possible. 

He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?” 

You purr louder in response, sleep beginning to fog the corners of your mind. 

“Good girl.” He says, pressing another kiss to your head. “Sleep. Alpha’s got you.”

NEXT ->

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[producedbysohyun]

A Not So Secret Secret pt.2

Kang Dae-ho x pregnant! Reader

Summary: Still trapped in the games, you depend on Dae-ho for comfort and protection as you face the games, sickness, and constant fear.

Warnings: Reader is replacing number 222 but has no correlation with 333, Reader is pregnant, mentions of killing and stuff like that, might be slightly inaccurate, Not proofread.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: This took along time please enjoy!!

Pt.1

You wake up. Now your third day of being in the squid games.

As the speaker goes off telling everyone that its morning time you sit up, groaning softly as your neck is aching from using Dae-ho's arm as a pillow the whole night. Your group around you wakes up as well, everyone looking dazed as they still find it hard to process the situation they are in.

Everyone in the game lines up and gets their breakfast, a piece of bread and some milk.

"what kind of breakfast is this" you think to yourself, your hunger really getting to you.

Despite the disappointment of bread for breakfast, you go and sit where your group would usually sit, waiting for everyone in the group to join as well.

You sit there, mindlessly eating your bread until Dae-ho comes and sits next to you.

"Hi baby how are you feeling?' he asks, giving you a small smile.

You just pout. "hungry.."

He frowns before giving you his bread.

"Nooo its fine..." You try to protest, knowing its not gonna get you anywhere.

He smiles "We've been through this already, I'm fine" He reassures you.

You frown and take the bread. You feel so useless, just eating peoples food even though it was offered to you.

"ahh.. actually it's fine really.. you need to eat..." you say as you hand the food back to him, your thoughts getting the best of you.

He looks at you softly before trying to negotiate. "How about we split it? You know what you have right now is not enough for you at all.."

You give in, to hungry to say no, "ok.." You smile as he gives you half his bread, though your piece is much bigger than his.

By now the rest of the group has joined you guys and all of you are just talking about whatever comes to mind, The next game, escaping, the fight that might take place tonight, and stuff like that.

Suddenly, the room starts spinning, and a wave of nausea hits you. You feel your head spin, and before you can react, you quickly push yourself up and speed-walk to the bathroom, trying to keep your balance. Dae-ho calls your name, but you don’t respond, too focused on getting to the bathroom. Once inside, you rush into a stall and throw up everything you just ate. Afterward, you sit on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the stall, too weak to move. The nausea lingers, and you just close your eyes, wishing for it to pass.

"it must just be morning sickness.." you thought to yourself.

Even though you've only experienced it a few times, the games seem to be making it lot worse, most likely due to the amount of stress you're under.

You must've been in there for awhile as the voice on the speaker sounds once again. "please follow the guards to your next game."

You quickly get up, flushing the toilet and running out of the bathroom back over to your group.

Dae-ho looks panicked before he spots you. "Are you ok???" he asks worriedly.

You nod, panting from running so fast. "I just felt a little sick that's all."

The group exchanges worried glances, their faces filled with concern, though there isn't much they can do.

You step into the colorful room with stairs and begin to climb, but each step feels heavier. You struggle a bit, the stairs feeling like a mountain to your exhausted and sick body, and they only get harder as you go. Halfway up, you lose your footing and stumble, nearly falling backward.

Luckily for you Dae-ho was right behind you and quickly put his hands on your waist, steadying you.

"are you ok??" he asks, worry in this voice. "Do you need me to carry you?"

"N-no I got it.. I'm alright.." You regain your balance and continue walking up the stairs.

Dae-ho stays close behind you on high alert just incase you stumble again.

As you guys get to the next game you take in your surroundings. The room has a red circle platform with horses in the middle. A multitude of colorful doors are placed on the walls of the room and the ceiling is almost like one of a carnival tent with white and red stripes on it.

"this game is called mingle." The speaker says.

"Ohh.. we used to play something like this when I was younger, but you would have to get in groups by hugging" Jung-bae says to the group.

You feel a bit more relieved as he says that. At least someone knows what they are doing.

The speaker goes off a again. "all players will stand on the platform and as it spins. When the music stops a random number will be called out. You will have to form groups of that number and go into one of the rooms before the timer is up or you will be eliminated."

After the announcement your group immediately starts talking about what to do.

Dae-ho turns to you. "No matter what just stay with me.. ok?"

You nod, not even wanting to think about the two of you getting separated in a place like this.

Your group manages to get somewhat of a plan before the game starts, the platform starting to spin as some children's song plays.

You tightly grip onto Dae-ho's hand, wanting to insure you guys won't be separated and as you do so the platform abruptly stops.

"ten" the speaker says as a 30 second timer shows up.

Your group of five desperately searches for another group of five but only finds one of four. Suddenly, number 120, a member of the group of four runs off and grabs a random girl.

"we have ten now! Go to room 44! The green door!" she calls out.

All ten of you quickly run into the room, the doors locking soon behind you. Your hand never leaving Dae-ho's.

The ten of you all breathe heavily as the sound of gun shots and people begging for their lives are heard outside of the room.

You lean back against the wall, exhausted and scared. Your hands are shaking like crazy and it catches Dae-ho's attention. His thumb gently caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you the best he can in the moment. Then, the random lady starts yelling.

“You’re alive because of me!” She exclaims before turning to Gi-hun, giving him a creepy look. “It seems there’s a reason you’ve survived longer than you were supposed to.” She says as she smirks.

The lady then turns to you and just stares at you creepily for a bit, Dae-ho keeping a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t try anything.

Then, to your luck, doors unlock and all of you walk out. You cringe as you step in a pile of blood on the floor, but at this point you're pretty used to it.

Everyone gets back on the platform and then, it starts to spin, the song ringing loudly in your ears. Your heart feels like it's gonna beat out of your chest but you try to focus on the game as best as you can.

The platform stops once again. "four" the speaker says.

You all look at each other. There are five of you. You need four.

Gi-hun speaks up, not afraid to sacrifice himself. "you four go-"

"No, go ahead guys." Young-il cuts him off, already walking away, not giving any room for protest.

Gi-hun just stands there before getting dragged away by Jung-bae.

"we have no choice come on!" Jung-bae exclaims to all of you.

You all quickly run into a greyish purplish room. But Gi-hun hesitate to close the door as he's looking for Young-il.

The timer starts to get it it's last seconds before Gi-hun finally closes the door.

More gunshots are heard outside but you don't care at this point, You're just grateful you're alive.

The door soon unlock and everyone repeats the same process.

The platform starts to spin and you stumble a bit. Dae-ho quickly stables you, still holding onto your hand.

you squeeze his hand tighter as the platform stops.

"three" The speaker says.

"you three go- me and Young-il will find one more person!" Gi-hun says urgently.

You, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae waste no time running into one of the empty rooms.

Suddenly a random guy runs into your guys' room and you being the only girl and the weakest, he grabs you and try's to drag you out.

Dae-ho and Jung-bae both react at the same time. Dae-ho gently pushes you behind him as Him and Jung-bae shove the guy out of the room.

You breathe heavily, trying to figure out what just happened before Dae-ho turns around and bends down to your level.

"are you ok?" He asks, eyeing you everywhere for any sort of injury.

You just nod breathlessly and lean against him, putting your head against his chest as the door locks. He gently puts his arms around you, kissing your head softly.

"thank you guys" you say to the two boys with as much gratefulness as possible.

"of course" Jung-bae nods as he breathes heavily.

The doors soon unlock and Dae-ho lets go of you, taking your hand again as the three of you walk out of the room and reunite with the rest of your group.

You all look at each other relieved everyone survived before getting on the platform for what felt like the tenth time.

The song began once again as the platform spun slowly.

"Six" the speaker called out as the spinning stopped.

Your group turns to the group of four that went with a few games ago. You can't exactly tell what they are saying as everyone is yelling. They agree on something and you feel Dae-ho start running somewhere with you and the group of four following behind. He opens a door but the room already has people in it. The people in the room slammed the door shut before the same player from a few games ago, 120, started yelling. "Over here! This room is empty! hurry!"

All five of you started running towards the door and you all got inside on time except number 095 had fallen. 120 tried to go and save her but was shoved back in by some guy and before she could do anything, the doors shut and locked.

You had no idea what was happening all you saw was the young girls eyes from the rectangle hole in the door.

"unnie..." She said, fear in her voice.

"young-mi!" Player 120 exclaimed as she ran to the door, trying her absolute hardest to open it, but there was nothing she could do, the young girl had been shot.

Player 120 immediately went over to player 333, the guy who had stopped her from saving Young-mi, and started yelling at him.

Player 333 snapped back. "If you would've saved her you would all be dead right now! I'm the reason all of you are alive! Am I wrong?!"

You hesitantly spoke up. "He's right..."

Dae-ho soon followed after you, also agreeing.

Player 120 just stayed quiet as the door unlocked and everyone sorrowfully walked out of the room.

You all got back on the platform and Jung-bae turned to Gi-hun.

"what do you think it will be this time?" Jung-bae asked.

"two" Young-il asnwered.

Everyone in the group looked at him with worry. "why?" Jung-bae questioned.

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. The rest will be killed." Young-il answered as the platform abruptly stopped again.

"two" the speaker called out.

You had no time to think before Dae-ho grabbed your hand and started running with you to a room.

While you were running some guy without a teammate shoved you and you fell to the floor, your arm going right into your stomach.

Dae-ho reacted quickly, immediately grabbing the guy and punching him before shoving him to give himself some more time to grab you.

You feel yourself being quickly lifted up off the floor and being carried into a room.

Dae-ho sets you down on the floor, the door locking as he looks you over frantically. "baby?? are you ok???"

All you can do is whimper, you had hit your head pretty hard when you fell and your arm had also went right into your stomach.

"Can you talk to me??" He grabs your face softly and makes you look at him.

"my head hurts" you say quietly.

Dae-hos face lights up, happy you can atleast talk, but he still looks very concerned. "yeah? Did you hit it?" he asks with worry in his voice.

You nod as the doors unlock.

He looks at the door before look back at you "can you walk?'

You nod, knowing its probably a lie but you get up nonetheless, slightly stumbling.

Dae-ho puts an arm around your waist. "lean on me baby.." He orders sofly.

You do just that, depending on him to hold you up as the both of you walk out of the door and reunite with your group.

Gi-hun sees the state you're in and looks visibly worried. "are you ok y/n?"

You nod, too out of it to speak.

Gi-hun, not believing you looks at Dae-ho, hoping he'll provide an answer.

Dae-ho just gives him an unsure look and shrugs as they walk out of the game room.

Dae-ho carefully helps you navigate your way down the stairs. "are you sure you don't want me to carry you?"

You nod, not wanting to be a burden on him. "I'm alright Dae.."

He sighs and nods as the two of you make your way down the stairs into the main area.

Your group sat in their usual area while you got some rest. They discussed the vote that would be taking place soon and how they only need seven players to change from O to X to be able to go home.

As the voice form the speaker calls out that the vote is starting, Dae-ho goes over to the sleeping area and softly wakes you up.

You groan softly "Do I have to..."

Dae-ho looks at you softly "yes.. we are voting now.."

You whine and sit up, on the verge of tears as you just want to sleep and go home.

Dae-ho sees this and frowns. "I know baby I'm sorry.." He says as he helps you up.

*time skip to vote*

You all have finished voting and it was 49 X and O 50. There was one person left to vote. Young-il. But he looked very suspicious. You crossed your fingers as Dae-ho put his head in your shoulder, not being able to watch.

*beep*

The buzzer went off and Young-il had voted for X. It was a tie. Everyone from your group sighed in relief. The guard's announced that since it was a tie there would be another vote tomorrow.

A bit after the vote everyone lined up for dinner. Your group sat back in their spot and you just sat in bed and ate. Dae-ho decided to give you some space as your mood wasn't good and he didn't wanna bother you.

As you ate in your bed you could here people yelling and you see Dae-ho in the middle of it. Confused you stand up and try to go over to him but the old lady grabs your wrist, stopping you.

"Please don't get involved..." She says softly.

You sigh and just sit next to her. "what are they fighting over.."

"We were trying to get some of the people that voted for O to vote for X but they just got offended.." She explains.

You just sigh and realize you've eaten all your kimbap.

"Did you eat enough?" The old lady asks softly.

You smile at her. "ya.. this was probably one of the most filling meals since we've got here.."

You and her have a small conversation before Dae-ho comes back over, looking pretty pissed.

"what happened?" you ask him.

He looks at you, his expression softening. "It's nothing baby don't worry about it." he said, not wanting to stress you out anymore.

As your group sat there and talked you ended up falling asleep, using Dae-ho's shoulder as a pillow while he had his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your lap.

You woke up to the sound of the speaker saying players had been eliminated. Confused, you looked at the group. "what happened?"

Gi-hun looked at you and replied. "there must've been a fight."

And he was right. The people on O team soon started saying that X tried to fight them first and the people on the X team saying that O tried to fight them first.

You cuddle closer to Dae-ho, not liking the situation you're in currently. He rubs your side softly as he watches the commotion that is currently going on. While everything is happening, Gi-hun takes the opportunity to tell everyone there is gonna be a fight tonight as how they are all gonna hide until its over and stuff.

You, on the other hand are freaking out, scared for your life, and your baby's. You cuddle into Dae-ho more as he listens to Gi-hun talk and you silently cry. When Dae-ho pulls away to go to the sleeping area, he sees your face.

"hey baby whats wrong are you ok??" He asks worriedly.

"I'm scared..." you admit.

"hey.. look at me.." He makes you look at him. "You know I would never let anything happen to you.. I would protect you with my life..."

You continue crying softly. "But the baby- what if- earlier when I fell my arm hit my stomach really hard so I don't even know if it's ok.."

Dae-ho looks concerned and puts his hand on your bump gently. "Does it hurt at all?" He asks.

"N-not right now but it hurt a lot before-" you stutter.

"Hey.. breathe.. You and the baby will be ok..And I will do everything I possibly can too ensure that.. I promise.." He says softly, now holding your face again.

Your nerves calm down a lot.. You trust him with your life.. you always have so why would he lie now? he would'nt.

He smiles at you and wipes your tears before softly kissing you. You kiss back and it just feels like everything you were scared of before doesn't matter anymore.

Your kiss was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a voice over the speaker, announcing that it was time for bed, followed by the lights flicking off. The abruptness of it snapped you both back to reality, and for a moment, you just sat there, a little dazed. The atmosphere shifted as the intimate moment faded into something more serious. You exchanged a glance with Dae-ho, and without a word, you both made your way toward the sleeping area, the mood now quiet as the both of you sat with the rest of the group and waited for the fight to start like Gi-hun said.

As you all settled in, you felt Dae-ho's arm slip around you, pulling you close. Seeking comfort, you cuddled into him, letting the warmth and safety of his embrace ease your worries. You grew so comfortable, the tension fading, and for a moment, you forgot that danger could be just around the corner. With Dae-ho by your side, you felt secure enough to drift off to sleep, knowing he would protect you. And soon the world outside fading into the background.

a/n: And once again I suck at making endings. but I hope you guys enjoyed! I don't know if ill make a part three unless you guys really want it. But if I did make one I would have to wait till Season 3 comes out or just make up my own ending. what ever you guys prefer!

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Snuggles On The Couch

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

When Lando has a weekend off from racing he tries to come home to England from time to time and visit his family. Of course, since he doesn't want to spend a second away from you, he always asks you to go with him, and you always agree because you like spending time with his family. You get along well, you have a lot of topics to talk about and it's never boring in their company.

It was the same this weekend. You spent the whole day hanging out outside in the yard of the Norris family home. The whole family was together, and Lando was hovering around you all the time making sure you weren't bored, and besides it comes naturally to him that he has to be near you all the time and have physical contact with you.

When evening came you had dinner together after which Lando's sisters went out with their friends and his mom and dad greeted you and went upstairs wanting to give you some privacy down in the living room.

Feeling a little exhausted from the day, you stretched and yawned loudly before your head hit the pillow on the couch in front of the TV.

"You feeling tired?" Lando asked coming from the kitchen towards you.

"A bit, yeah" You yawn again.

"It's barely 9 p.m. baby, do you wanna go to sleep already?" He asks sitting down on the couch and putting your legs over his lap. "Thought we could watch a movie before bed?

"Yeah, sure, why not. I can't promise that I'll see the end of the movie awake though" You smile sleepily.

While you were looking for a movie on netflix, Lando settled comfortably sideways behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest. He started kissing your neck tickling you and making you giggle.

"Lan, you're distracting me"

"I missed you today" He says nuzzling his nose against your shoulder.

"You missed me? We've been literally together all day."

"Yeah, but" He sighs. "you didn't pay much attention to me and I had to share you with others. I want you to myself now."

You turn your head to look at him rolling your eyes and laughing. He takes the chance to kiss your lips running his tongue over your bottom lip, but you don't let him in. Instead you break the kiss and focus your attention to finding the movie to watch.

Lando wasn't really interested in watching the movie at all. He actually suggested the movie just to try to keep you awake a little longer to get what he wanted. His lips were attached to your neck as his hands slowly began to roam your body, sliding them under your shirt and squeezing your breasts over your bra.

"Lan..stop it" You half whispered half moaned squirming a little.

"Just keep looking for the movie" He murmured against your skin grinding himself against your ass.

You could clearly feel how hard he was as he squeezed your hip and pulled your ass into his crotch. You squeezed your thighs clenching around nothing as he tried to slip his hand in between them.

"Lando, no. We're in the living room, there's no chance" You resisted taking his wrist and trying to move it away.

"C'mon, baby. Let me touch you, please." He whines quietly forcing your thighs apart. "Can't you feel what you're doing to me?"

"I'm too tired and there's no way we're having sex on your parent's couch"

"You don't have to do anything. You just lay here and find a movie and I'll do all the work, yeah? Just let me feel your pussy please.." He groaned biting your shoulder.

Your common sense told you no, but your body responded differently to his touches. Especially when he kissed you just below the ear and rubbed your pussy over your tights. Your lips instantly parted and eyes closed as you took his wrist, but didn't stop him.

"How come you're so wet if you don't want it, baby? Hm? I feel it through those tights of yours" He murmured continuing to work his fingers over your clothed clit while his other hand gently grabbed your neck.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything nor to open your eyes. You just hoped he wouldn't stop what he was doing.

"I'm gonna fuck you right here, right now, nice and gentle, yeah?"

You nodded and that was all it took for him to pull your tights down just below your ass and free his cock from his now already too tight pants and boxers.

"Soaking wet" He groaned playing with your pussy. He collected your wetness with his fingertips rubbing it over the tip of his cock. "You ready for me, darling?"

You answered his question by arching your back for him letting him put his tip on your entrance. He teased your hole a little before pushing himself in and burying his head into the crook of your neck to quietly groan into it. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock filling you. Before he started thrusting, he put his hand on your hip to rock you back and forth on his hard cock.

"Been thinking about this all day, fuck baby" He grunted starting to move in and out of you slowly.

"What if someone walks in here?" You worried, but the feeling was too good to stop.

"I don't care, I'll just keep fucking you until we both finish" Tingles ran through your body at his words and you let out a louder moan than you intended. His other hand immediately went up to cover your mouth. "Quiet, love, quiet"

He was fucking you deep and slow keeping your mouth covered with his hand and leaving wet kisses over your skin.

"You like how I'm fucking you, hm?" He whispered in your ear.

"Faster, Lan please" You quietly cried out.

"You need it faster, baby? I'll give you faster" He said lifting up your leg and increasing his pace. His eyes followed your movements as your hand slid down to your clit quickly rubbing it in circles. His eyes rolled in his head at the sight. "Oh fuck..Are you getting close?" He asked hoping that you were because he knew he couldn't last much longer.

"Yes, Lan, uh-yes"

"Me too. I just wanna come for you, baby"

He kept thrusting in you and soon you could feel him twitching inside. You knew he was about to come as his breath started quivering.

"I'm gonna cum inside so we don't make a mess, yeah?" He barely managed to say. You moaned squeezing your thighs together and clenching around his cock. It send both of you over the edge as the familiar feeling of pleasure coursed through your body.

"Oh fuck, yes, yes baby come all over my cock" He pressed you against his chest burying his head into your neck once again until both of your rode out your orgasms.

He pulled your chin with his fingers to face him and you smiled flushing avoiding his eyes.

"What? Why are you so shy all of a sudden?" He chuckled.

"Because..this was so wrong" You sighed shaking your head.

"It was, that's why you came so hard, baby"

[enhaeil]

SOON AS I GET HOME! ☆ 박종성

"soon as I get home, I'll make it up to you. baby, i'll do what i gotta do."

soon as i get home - faith evans.

c/w: suggestive!! yet extremely soft. husband jay...wow i love jay

you had a good man. an amazing man even. the best man a woman could ask for. and you've been neglecting him.

when he tries to hug you, it only lasts for a second before you push him away. when he tries to give you a kiss, you barely reciprocate back. when he tries to initiate sex, you brush him off, telling him you're "too tired" to be touched. it's noticeably put a bit of a strain on your marriage, and you feel guilty.

you decide it's time to ignite the fire in your marriage again. remind jay why he married you in the first place. since he's always busy with work and so are you, you decided you would call off work the next day and spend it planning something special.

you hop out the tub and wrap a towel around you before starting your hair and makeup. you decided to wear it down because you remembered how much jay liked it. for makeup, you go with a natural glam with some red eyeshadow.

—

you slip into the lingerie and dress you bought, buckle up your heels, and check yourself out in the mirror one more time. "yup. i still got it." you say to yourself before you head downstairs.

the time is currently 6:30. jay is already off work and is probably on his way back. you use this time to set the food up and pour up some wine. you also lay out some chocolates and light some scented candles. and of course, you had some old school jams playing in the back. lord, if he didn't put a baby in you tonight, it'd be a pretty close call.

as time gets closer, you decide to hide behind the wall so when he walks in, you can suprise him.

around 7:02, you hear some keys jingle and the door opening.

"baby, i'm home. i got some take-out if you're hungry. baby..?"

you can't help but feel your heart swell at your husbands voice. even through your dry spell, he's so sweet. you take this as an opportunity to step out.

"hi jjongie.."

his mouth opens so wide you're scared a moth might fly out of it.

"do you like it..?" he gave you a look as if you just asked the silliest question on earth.

"baby. like it? 'like it' would be disrespectful. you look amazing, y/n."

you giggle and help him take off his work jacket, giving his shoulders a soft massage, feeling the tenseness from his shift today. his head tips back with a sigh. "did i forget something today, love?" he says, trying to scan his mind for any event that could've happened.

you grab his hand and drag him into the kitchen where all the food is prepared. "you're my husband. and I've been neglecting you. so i wanted to show my appreciation for all you do." you say pulling out a chair for him.

"baby...you don't neglect me. we've both been busy with work." he says still holding on to your hand.

"still. when's the last time we had sex, jay?"

"a few days ago, right?" he says trying to see where you're going with this.

"exactly! remember? when used to go at it like animals? one day out of the week would've scared us a few years ago." you say with a small giggle. "now eat up. i dont want the food to get cold!"

you guys spend some time talking about your week and enjoying the meal you made. it felt so nice to have this moment with your husband. you guys rarely ever got to eat real meals together.

"wow, y/n. you really went all out." he says finishing his last bite.

"there's leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry again." you say getting ready to put the dishes in the sink.

he stands up, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "how could i ever repay you?"

you turn around and give him a look. "jay. you have been the most perfect man since the day i met you. i can't remember the last time i touched a door or a bill since our first date. you've done more than enough." you say pressing a peck on the corner of his mouth.

you dry off your hands before you turn back to him. "now, I have one more surprise for you upstairs. come on~" you say excitedly before dragging him up the stairs.

you finally make it to your bedroom and point his attention towards the bag in the middle of the bed. in it was a new cologne, a new tie and jewelry. as he opens the bag you dash into the bathroom to take off that tight dress and reveal what was underneath.

"baby, you didn't have to get me any of this. i'm so grateful, thank you. god, this is so cool." he says, examining his new items.

you finally step out the bathroom, heels still clicking as you call out his name.

he brings his attention up and his mouth is left open for the second time that night.

has he seen your body in ways you wouldn't even think was possible? yes. but everytime he did it felt like the first time.

you slowly make your way towards him before he reaches out his hands to touch you as if you'd dissappear right in front him.

"wow, i married a goddess. even years later you still make me feel like a teenage boy."

your eyes begin to water at his words and his touches, feeling like it's been an eternity since you've been touched like this. your hands begin to roam his body too, feeling underneath his shirt and caressing his stomach, your fingertips grazing the roughness of his happy trail.

"i love you jay. and i'll do whatever i can to make up for time we might've lost." you say leading him towards the bed so you can straddle him.

"we've grown a lot since we started dating, y/n. it's okay if sometimes we are too busy to do things with eachother. but even if we go months without touching eachother, i promise i'll always love you the same way I did back then."

and with that, he pulls you into a kiss, which leads into a night full of passionate lovemaking.

a/n: im foaming at the mouth.