#my co-stars are a little strange

[realsamstark]

[ybklix]

hidden lovers

★ pairing: idol bf!lee know x fem!reader

✦summary: Minho and you have this little game of dating in secret, but keep a completely opposite image for the rest of your friends.

♡ genre - warnings: smut, mean and soft dom minho, established relationship, enemies to lovers briefly written; fingering, mutual masturbation, edging, oral sex (f. rec.), cunnilingus, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names.

word count: 5k

╰ ⋆⭒˚.⋆ masterlist - taglist forms

୧ ‧₊˚request by anon₊ ˚⊹♡ secretly dating minho w enemy plot yesyes<3

a/n: i hope u liked it 🍮 mwahmwah, i think lino has a puddin in the pic lmao so cute

divider by enchanthings

It was pouring rain outside, it was one of those rainy summer days when you really missed your boyfriend, you wanted to be in his arms watching a movie or spying through his cell phone whatever he was doing. But he was busy, he couldn’t visit you so often because he spent hours at the company, he arrived exhausted at his apartment which he shares with three other colleagues and friends; plus it was that season when coincidentally the rest of his seven co-workers and best friends were more glued to him since it was when they were hard at work on their new album, so being so close to them, they usually tend to be insistent and ask in detail what he does outside of work and Minho, your boyfriend, could not risk them finding out that there is something between you.

So, amidst the heavy rain, your perfect signal fell with it; Han Jisung, your brother and one of Minho’s closest friends sent you a message, asking you for help with household activities in his apartment, blackmailing you while reminding you that he was the one giving you money, since he’s rich and an extremely important pop star and claiming that it was one of those days when they didn’t go to the company and Chan took the opportunity to put the rest of them to clean their respective apartments. You honestly didn’t think much of it, going to your brother’s apartment would mean you would see Minho one way or another, despite living in different apartments, you were pretty sure you would be able to see him.

You thought it was strange that Minho didn’t tell you that he didn’t go to work today, you thought he must have been busy ordering Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin to clean their rooms like little kids since it was your boyfriend who was in charge of the place. So anyway, you decided not to tell him and see him as a surprise; you dressed up perfectly, you haven’t seen him for days except through facetime and you really missed the closeness and smell of your man nearby.

You left your apartment and headed to the building of your older brother and his other almost older brothers, Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin and sighed as you passed through the wide hallway, the famous hallway reserved for the eight of them, only two doors on each side of the hallway, the place where they lived, you sighed, because you knew that Minho was probably in his apartment.

You knocked on the door, where a very confused Chan opened it for you, wearing comfortable clothes, with his curls and his face totally free of any traces of makeup.

“Oh, hi, Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming.”

His confused countenance gradually softened into a smile. He was confused as Han had authorized your entrance all the way to his door without previously letting anyone know you were coming.

“Yeah, well neither did I...”

“Come on in, we’re just cleaning up a bit.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s just what Han calls me for, apparently.”

You walked in and even Chan couldn’t help but watch you as you walked by, smelling your perfume and getting slightly lost in your bare legs through your short dress; which you were wearing only for, who they consider, your enemy.

“Agh, my dear sister who’s going to help me do the laundry and dishes, how good you look, have you eaten yet?” said in a fake and dramatic tone your brother, greeting you with an exaggerated expression of excitement and hugging you, which he never does and was just overacting and being funny.

“Fuck you, Han” you answered him as a joke, you were really there just to see Minho and you were starting to get desperate, you wanted to run into his arms and kiss his nose exactly where he had his little freckle.

Han changed his expression to an annoyed one as soon as he pulled away from you after his brief hug, “Hey, watch your mouth, I’m older remember. Also, why are you wearing so much perfume, are you wearing makeup?”

“I can’t believe you brought your sister all the way here just to help you” Chan interjected.

“Hey, Y/N, nice to see you” interrupted Hyunjin as he came out of his room and walked around the apartment.

“Hi” you replied sweetly smiling at Hyunjin.

“She came to see me, it’s obvious” you heard Changbin suddenly say, who came out of the laundry room, approaching Han and you.

Changbin winked at you and gently grabbed your waist, flirting and teasing you, making Hyunjin laugh. But Han didn’t find it the least bit funny so he opened his big round eyes in shock, raising his eyebrows, ready to exclaim in his typical voice:

“Ya, are you out of your mind? Get your dirty hands off my sister or I’ll kill you.”

Chan laughed at Han’s reaction, who was also joking, since he fully trusted each of his friends and knew that they were just playing around, he knew that none of the men he lived with every day would touch you and Han had a strict rule of not trying anything with you, since you were the closest to them, all the time living with them, a rule which they all respected since at least four of them also had sisters and understood the seriousness of the situation... however it wasn’t quite like that, Minho was the one who dared to touch you and would fuck you every day if only you could be together all the time and, for the rest, Minho was really the last option in the list of people who would even have anything to do with you, since for them, you two are enemies and hate each other. Plus Han would never agree to you dating any of his friends, you were strictly forbidden and he reminded them of that every chance he got.

Changbin let out a guilty chuckle and walked away from you.

“Well, I was assigned to do the dishes and laundry, please help me, my room is a mess, I’ll clean that up. I’ll buy you five Chanel bags, I promise, please” spoke your brother, you rolled your eyes and walked towards the kitchen without answering him.

Hours later, the night came and you finished without a problem, you handed the freshly washed clothes to each of them, you left the boys’ kitchen spotless and went a little frustrated to your brother’s room to see what he was doing, he had finished cleaning too, tiredly you sat on his bed, each time losing hope of spontaneously seeing your boyfriend and surprising him, so you thought about going to the bathroom to send him a message, saying you were there and that if he had the rest of the night he should spend it with you, making a little drama by reproaching him for not telling you he would have the day off, supposedly, since you knew he might be cleaning.

“I’m thinking of buying another piece of furniture and putting it in...” started to tell you Han, pointing to a part of his room but you decided not to pay attention at all,

And suddenly a voice, a sound so familiar that it filled every part of your body with excitement, you heard in the distance the typical whine of your boyfriend, followed by his manly voice in a soft whine saying, “Agh, are you guys done already? I really didn’t want to clean up today, why did you guys finish so soon?”

Han opened his eyes in surprise and looked at you with a bit of fear, he also recognized perfectly well that it was Minho.

“Is that Minho?” you asked suddenly, hiding every excited particle of your body, your heart pounding as if you were a young girl about to see her crush.

“Oh no… if you want, I’ll get him out of here before he sees you” Han replied and before you even thought how to stop him he was already leaving his room.

You quickly stood up and went after him.

“Ah, Hannie, let’s go get some dinner and let’s all eat it in my apart...” spoke Minho cheerfully as he saw his friend coming out of the hallway but he didn’t finish the sentence as his world stopped as he saw you coming out behind him.

And there he was, Lee Minho, looking as handsome as ever, in comfortable clothes and a bare face, his hair looking soft and shiny black. You had to contain your joy, feeling him so far away but so close at the same time; as did Minho, who held back with all his might a smile from his lips at the sight of you, instead, his expression tightened completely, furrowing his thick eyebrows, his thin lips pursed a little, his big eyes sharpened if that was possible, looking at you contemptuously and an irremediable tension for the rest of the guys formed in the atmosphere, they all looked at each other complicitly, amused and slightly worried, Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin and Han, moving their eyeballs quickly as they noticed you and Minho were looking at each other.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” spat Minho annoyed.

His tone and demeanor gave you goosebumps, just as it made your pussy throb, it really turned you on to see him upset, he looked so hot, you ran your eyes along his bare arms with your gaze, you wanted his veiny hands on your neck but you had to maintain your sanity and be tough, acting your best role, as Minho’s enemy.

“Minho be nice...” Chan said softly.

“With... that-her, never. Oh, and I see why you guys finished early. That’s unfair, you have a fucking maid” said Minho again in annoyance.

“Minho...” your brother replied in his sternest tone and giving him a dirty look.

“Actually, let’s all eat at Minho’s, that sounds good” you finally spoke, walking and teasing your enemy.

“You can’t come into my apartment” Minho answered you, his eyes dark with desire as he saw how pretty you looked and it made him feel so good to know you were doing it for him.

You knew that look so well, so intimidating and wetting you in seconds; while for the rest it was a look of hatred and spite.

“I’m hungry, let’s eat” Changbin added, approaching you two and gently squeezing your forearms as he saw that you seemed to have a staring contest, “Come on, maybe you’re just mad because you’re hungry.”

The story of you and Minho really was funny, you truly used to be enemies and hated each other; Minho met you when you were younger, for him, back in his trainee years, and instantly thought of you as a spoiled brat who was given absolutely everything, your voice irritated him, the way you acted, everything. You both had such similar personalities that you just couldn’t manage to match each other... until years later, the big revelation fell on Minho with the intensity of a crash, he liked you, you were so cute all of sudden and he also suddenly fantasized about beating your ass to stopping you from being so badly behaved. Your start of romance was so fiery, as you were suddenly confused by his strange behavior, flirting with you while still being rude to you and, since then, a year ago that you’ve been dating. And you decided to hide it for obvious reasons; although Minho had already told you that he had no problem claiming you as his own, that he loved to possess you and have you as his girlfriend, he loved the intensity in which you loved him.

And now acting like enemies in front of everyone and lovers in secret between just you two, became such an exciting game you couldn’t stop, you lived for the mystery and the adrenaline of never getting caught, and when the guys started joking that ‘those who hate each other end up falling in love’ —literally your situation—, Minho would be really mean to you again, but he rewarded you so fucking well that you even forgot why he apologized. Sex after fake hard fights was always the best for you.

Changbin led everyone to Minho’s apartment, everyone without truly thinking about why they followed him and the rest of the people who lived with Minho were surprised at the timely arrival of the rest of his friends and you.

“Woah, what is this? What are you guys doing here?” you watched Jeongin say in surprise as he slowly lowered the cell phone from his face.

The three of them were sitting on the couch in the living room, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin, watching you enter with astonishment reflected on their faces.

“It looked pretty serious the way they all came in” Felix added smiling, “Hello, Y/n.”

“Yongbok don’t say hello to her or I’ll kick you out of the apartment” replied Minho quickly.

“What do you guys want for dinner?” spoke Chan.

“You’re not even invited to this house, plus I’m still not done with my chores” replied Minho directly to you, serious and a bit irritated.

“What you guys haven’t done yet? Let us help you so you can finish soon” spoke Chan kindly again.

“Minho hasn’t done anything, he just kept bossing around” Seungmin exposed him with a smile and pointing at him, causing a soft chuckle among his other two roommates.

“Kim Seungmin, count your days” Minho hissed.

“A whole pile of clothes to be folded is waiting for him in his room” Seungmin joked again.

“Shut up, Seungmin!” exclaimed your boyfriend.

“Y/n should go help him, it would be fun to see them not fighting for five seconds” commented Jeongin amused with his cocky tone and raising his eyebrows.

“Never, I’d rather burn your clothes” replied Minho.

“Yes yes, put them both in punishment” exclaimed Seungmin with a huge smile on his face.

“For all the nights they had their little fights every time we went out” Changbin continued the joke.

Hyunjin and Felix laughed, Han and Chan watched you both with amusement.

“There’s not going to be any more nights together because I’m going to kill every single one of you” mumbled your boyfriend.

You watched the scene, trying to be the strongest and hiding the immense urge you had to indeed see your boyfriend's room.

“No way” Chan lifted his shoulders, “You have to fulfill your duties...”

“Okay, okay, but who said I would agree to help him?” you spoke suddenly.

“Oh, yeah, you both have to go while we order food” Changbin sentenced, waking over to you to gently push you.

“Do it” you heard Han order you.

“Just because I seriously don’t want to fold all those clothes by myself...” whispered Minho.

You looked at him surprised, and with a face of indignation you followed him. But deep down you were just waiting for all the drama to be over and you could be alone with him.

“Wow, he really accepted her help” Hyunjin commented in amazement as he watched you walk to Minho’s room.

“Shut the fuck up, Hyunjin, I’ll cut your tongue out!” shouted Minho to which Hyunjin made a quick funny grimace in response.

“Try not to kill each other in there!” yelled Changbin.

You and Minho stood for a few moments near his door, looking at each other complicit and with your breathing heavy, so eager to be near each other; you watched him through the darkness of his room, diverting your gaze from his big bright eyes to the rest of his room with huge windows overlooking the city, his room was beautiful, after all he was part of a very important group and maintained his reputation by having a luxurious place to live in... and almost at one end of his bed, a pile of clothes waiting to be folded. There were few times that you had entered Minho’s room as privacy was very limited.

You were both waiting for the boys’ attention to be diverted elsewhere and, Minho recognizing and hearing that they finally managed to get distracted, he locked the door. Minho knew them so well and recognized perfectly when their attention was diverted to something new; their loud voices ceased softly as they were heard lower with his door closed and he without wasting any time, grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body to him.

You smiled broadly, once again with every particle of you excited to finally have him near.

“I missed you so much, baby, you look so good today” he spoke to you sweetly, leaning into you and kissing you.

You couldn’t answer him, your whole body went warm as you felt his lips on yours, you both missed each other madly and wanted each other immensely, so quickly the kiss became desperate and lustful, his sharp nose rubbing against your face, your hands wrapping around his neck and stroking his hair; Minho hugged you, leaving his hands on your back and slowly leading you to his bed.

As you bumped against the edge of his bed with your legs, he slowly let his body drop, making you fall onto his bed gently, both of you breathless, lewd with the temperatures of your excited bodies, Minho wanted to make you his now and you needed your boyfriend’s affection so bad that your weak pussy was so soaked and needy for his touch. Minho moved away from you a little, only to pull up your dress and reveal that you were only wearing your panties underneath it, you noticed his disapproving look, still he said sweetly:

“Settle in, princess, make yourself comfortable, so I can touch you better.”

You stirred a little, getting comfortable with his pillows on your back and Minho kissed you again, positioning his body over yours, sticking to you to the point of feeling his swollen hard erection rubbing against your sensitive center, he was kissing you so passionately, getting even for all the nights he had to spend it alone, when he had you as his girlfriend and he was partly able to come and see you, you taking care of him so well. You moaned softly as you felt his cock grinding into your pussy and, Minho being himself, he began to gently ram into you, rubbing and squeezing his member into your needy area, rubbing against your clit, causing you to lubricate yourself more and every muscle in your pussy to throb hungrily for your boyfriend’s cock.

Your groans were held between his lips, but Minho was fucking you slowly and torturously, moving his nimble hips against your pussy, leaving you so wet.

You both caught your breath, Minho watched your face slightly illuminated by the night’s exterior reflected in the window. You gasped, still watching him lovingly, placing your hands on his cheeks.

“I missed you too, Minho.”

“I know, sweetheart, sorry I was busy” gasped Minho breathlessly, enjoying his cock being compressed against the friction of the fabric of your panties on your pussy.

He moved his hand down to your pussy finally, pushing the fabric of your panties aside, reaching down to your entrance and smiling smugly as he noticed how incredibly wet you were. Minho bit his lip and inserted two fingers deep into you, making you moan and the sound of his fingers immersing between your lubed cunt.

“I want to fuck you so bad, princess, c'mon, ask for it, kitten. I loove to hear you beg, you know that, don’t you?”

“Ahh, mmm, M-minho, p-please” you sighed excitedly, his fingers were tickling a sweet spot in you.

You wiggled your ass gently, aroused to have your boyfriend’s fingers working on your sensitive vagina and exploring your insides, as you reached for the hem of his shirt, gently lifting his simple white t-shirt, stroking his abs; Minho smirked again smugly and abruptly slid his fingers out of you.

“You want to touch me too, don’t you, kitten?”

Minho drew a half smile on his face to which you only nodded in a trance, completely lost in the incredibly hot and sexy atmosphere created between you and your boyfriend. He hurried, taking off his shirt and quickly pulling down his shorts and boxers, exposing his very well erect cock, you could appreciate how needy he was too, detonating his veins and his pink tip covered by shiny white precum. You almost sighed, wanting to have fun in so many ways with your boyfriend’s cock, so almost reflexively you directed your hands towards his member, stroking it to feel its stiffness, causing sweet gasps to escape from Minho’s lips, you looked at him, in his face captured pure pleasure, so you wanted to get up, change positions and suck his cock, but he stopped you instantly, also almost reflexively.

“Ah, ah” spoke your boyfriend in disapproval, pushing you off your shoulder, “Be a good girl and do whatever I say and want, okay?”

Minho darkened his gaze more and said it in a tone so intense and demanding but being gentle with you that it made your body tremble in excitement, you bit your lip and nodded.

“Now, stroke my cock and cum in my fingers like a good princess” he spoke again, his dirty words made you throb again, “But... let me see a little bit your pretty body...” Minho licked his lips and abruptly sought a way to pull the straps of your dress to expose your chest, “You always look so good, baby” Minho let his gaze linger on your bare breasts and then came closer and kissed you again.

You were so distracted, blinded by the incredible pleasure built up in your body, busy with your mouths joined, your hands in stroking up and down his cock and, as soon as you felt again the tickle of his fingers touching your pussy, your hairs stood on end; Minho without stopping kissing you, inserted in your entrance three of his fingers, making you gasp at the sensation of your entrance stretching. He moved his kisses down, down your neck, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin, until his mouth reached your breasts, licking them, sucking them and biting your nipple, while his hand on your pussy fucked you and his thumb caressed your clit, getting his hand and the thin fabric of your panties you were still wearing wetter and wetter.

“We need to discuss later why you only came in that tiny dress, in panties and no bra, to an apartment full of men, you’re such a very bad kitty, you need a little punishment, but you feel so good right now, I wanna make you cum” Minho said, exasperated and excited in your ear.

He was so aroused too, desperate for an orgasm as he felt your hands skilfully but a little clumsily touching all over his length, stroking his glans, his testicles, feeling every inch of him, which dick you were internally screaming for by wanting such a member to be in you right now, but you couldn’t deny it, you loved the way your boyfriend liked to play and entertain your pussy, ramming it with his fingers and crushing and stroking your needy, throbbing clit. Minho gasped loudly, so close to his orgasm whose he took the decision of delaying it himself, he wanted every drop of his cum inside you, so runny and thick drops of his precum fell on your bare abdomen; his cock was so swollen and throbbing and you felt it in your hands that, in a whimper you practically begged him:

“M-minho please fuck me, I need you.”

Minho smiled.

“Then cum to your first orgasm in my hand, sweetie, you can do it.”

He, being pushed to the limit by your caresses on his cock, sped up his movements in your cunt, desperately fitting his fingers deep inside you, enjoying your walls in his digits, the softness of your throbbing clit on his fingertip. You whimpered loudly, staring into his eyes, arched your back, so ready for your orgasm, every muscle in you squeezed with intensity.

“Are you about to cum, kitten? Do it now, come on.”

“Oh, ffuck” you squealed with a shaky voice, catching one last glimpse of Minho’s handsome face with a smug little smile, before your vision blurred and you rolled your eyes slightly back.

Your legs tensed, you squeezed his cock slightly tighter, only to release yourself in orgasm, squirting into his hand, just as he desired.

“Good girl” Minho commented smiling.

He withdrew his fingers and in one swift movement, slipped your panties off and without warning of anything, brought his face up to your pussy, licking your sweet liquid sliding down your hole. You moaned at the sensation of his thick hot tongue, of his lips sticking to your pussy to slurp hard from your entrance to your labia, feeling his high bridge nose rubbing against your core, Minho left his hands on your thighs and began to eat your pussy, raising his piercing gaze, watching with joy your body struggle with your heavy breathing.

This time you enjoyed every movement of his mouth on your pussy, his kisses, his soft bites, the intense sucking and licking; you were in paradise, his pace was hot and slow, little by little speeding up the way he ate your pussy, Minho was enjoying it too, getting harder on his dick, causing a little pain to his erect cock hanging in the air, in need of attention, screaming to cum, but the slight pain was turning him on more, he loved pushing himself to the limit, making you enjoy only you as you deserve it, besides he had this idea or theory, that he didn’t deserve to cum as he wasn’t being the best boyfriend these last days, he missed you and felt guilty for not being able to come to see you, and that you had to be the one who was looking for him.

Minho again sensed your orgasm so close, your gasps rose, honestly the noise didn’t bother him, the walls were thick and his friends were being ten times louder in the living room of the apartment. So he suddenly stopped having his mouth on your pussy, roughly wiped his face with his dry hand and got closer to your face.

“Don’t cum yet, princess, I need to fuck you now” he whispered, giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek.

You saw him in confusion, you couldn’t even groan because you instantly realized that you were finally going to have his cock inside you.

Minho repositioned himself again, took his member and began to tease your wet and needy entrance, stroking his glans into it, sliding it in so gently and just enough to get your hole dilated, but he would pull it out again. You whimpered with excitement and desperation as you perfectly recognized the game your boyfriend was playing.

“You want it don’t you?” he said amused with his typical smug smile as he saw your needy body and countenance, your pussy made a beautiful mess, your length so shiny from your wetness and his licking, your entrance resenting his tip inside you, “So needy for my cock.”

You whimpered, his broad tip slipped out of you and this time he grind your labia with his erection, rubbing himself on them.

“Y-yes, Minho, please, please, please.”

“Only because I’m the best boyfriend” he replied haughtily.

Minho slowly slid his cock inside you, you gasped, he was big and wide, squeezing your walls hard and stretching your entrance. He sighed, almost feeling a relief as he felt his cock around your warm core, he pulled his body closer to yours, wanting to feel your body touching his; he was so deep inside you that he almost took your breath away, still, he began to thrust you slowly, never leaving his depth and intensity, moving his hips to take you to the limit, caressing your cervix, and his balls rubbing against your exposed pussy. You tightened your legs and encircled his body, while your hands rested on his strong back, you both began to pant, his slow deep thrusts heating your lower abdomen, torturing you but sending you to heaven itself at the same time. Minho kept a pace that only he knew how made you go crazy, slow, then he accelerated fast, pounding you hard. You dug your nails into his back, you were so close to your orgasm; Minho sped up the movements of his cock in you, but as he felt your walls squeezing his member hard, he couldn’t take it, he gasped loudly in your ear and ejaculated, milking him dry every drop of his cum in an intense orgasm. You felt his cum instantly, your legs also squeezed his body tighter and you whimpered loudly, cumming again and covering your boyfriend’s cock in your so intense orgasm.

Minho left his head on your neck for a few seconds, then distanced himself and watched your pussy image after the action.

“So sweet and all mine” Minho said, looking down at his cock sliding out of your core, dripping the glorious orgasm of both of you in a glistening liquid; he moved closer to you again, to give you a sweet kiss, your mouth was dry, from moaning and breathing by it, but quickly Minho’s soft lips ceased any sensation, “I love you” he whispered into your lips, bringing your foreheads together.

You smiled, about to answer him something cheesy, but Minho’s doorknob turning sharply and banging on his door alerted you a little.

“Dinner’s ready, why is the door locked?” you heard Seungmin’s voice shout from the other side.

“Linoo” you now heard Changbin’s voice shout, “Are you okay?! He must be dead already.”

Minho sighed in frustration, “These idiots...” he muttered, catching his breath near your face.

—————-

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89

[aayakashii]

soooo I wrote this for the art god @devotion-disorder because

1- they're one of my favorite artists ever!!!!!!! And they're someone who portrays yanderes in such a 😙🤌 chef's kiss way that I can't help but admire

2- I am obsessed with their oc kuuya

but if you'd rather I delete it, just let me know!!

Warnings: NSFW, yandere behavior, unhealthy obsession !!! Minors DNI !!!

Part 2 of this fic here <3

The skin on the nape of your neck prickled, making you shiver at the strange sensation.

The steady gaze outside your window was so piercing and unmoving that it could be as sharp as needles nicking your skin.

Although, if you were to be fully honest, it felt more like a knife.

It would be just another night, if it wasn't for the fact that your co-worker lurked outside your house.

"Kuuya", you mouthed his name, just to feel how it moves against your lips, because you could never really say it during daytime without having him spiral headfirst into a meltdown.

Kuuya was a disaster.

He never talked to you.

You would sometimes catch him staring at you during work, which made him blush like an anime schoolgirl, but that was the extent of his interaction with you.

He was a regular employee, didn't stand out much, nor caused problems. He was just... there. Constantly looking exhausted, with his back hunched and in the verge of a mental breakdown.

And you were so attracted to that mess of a man.

Your friends would probably frown and sigh if they knew, but they were also pretty much aware of your type: sickly victorian-looking men, anemic, with extremely dark circles under their eyes, who probably sneeze a lot and shake like chihuahuas.

And, hey, that was Kuuya to a T. How could you not have a crush on him?

You soon realized, however, that he probably had a few screws loose.

It started slow, a few things going missing. First it was a pen, then some of your hair ties, then old post-it notes you had forgotten about, until their absence reminded you of their existence.

These things were inconsequential.

You wouldn't even notice their disappearance, if it wasnt for the fact that one day you saw Kuuya with a fluffy hair tie that looked way too similar to yours to be a coincidence. It even had the same little star charm that yours had.

And then you noticed the pens, carefully placed inside a cup near his computer.

And the erasers, the post-its, the pencils, all the other office appliances that you were pretty sure were yours.

But they weren't, right?

That was just your fertile imagination playing tricks on you.

Right?

One day, just to erase this silly idea from your head – I mean, you were probably just paranoid – you waited until you saw Kuuya take a break from his assignments and make his way to the bathroom.

You observed through the corner of your eyes how he stared at you while making his way to the other side of the office, anxiously shaking your leg as you mentally egged him to hurry up and go to the damn toilet.

As soon as you were sure he was inside and you were out his sight, you bolted towards his desk, earning a few pissed off glances from your other coworkers.

You had to work quickly though, since you didnt know how long he would take to come back. Looking over your shoulder constantly, you opened the drawers under his desk, searching for something and feeling silly all the while (what if you're the crazy paranoic one for real?), until your hands haphazardly touched some papers and you heard the sound of crinkles.

Looking over your shoulder one more time to make sure he wasn't around, you lifted the papers and mouthed a silent "oh." as you saw what was underneath them.

Dozens and dozens of candy wrappers, discarded notes and even more of those old post-its laid organized in what you could say was impeccable fashion, if it wasnt for the fact that it was all trash.

Your trash.

In the back, you saw some plastic bags with questionable contents, but your anxiety was in an all time high and you decided to just put things back were they were and close the drawer.

You had your confirmation. He WAS crazy and you were still paranoid, but at least you were right.

You made way back to your desk and sighed, sitting down.

Conflicted feelings pooled in your gut.

You knew all of that meant that he was indeed crazy and obsessed and potentially dangerous, but also... you couldn't really deny the excitement that made butterflies fly all around in your stomach and the giddy feeling that made your heart race with expectations – of what, you didn't know.

And as these feeling swarmed you, you failed to realize the pair of eyes that were locked tight onto your figure from the very start.

If Kuuya could properly express his feelings, he would be moaning and whining in pure despair.

They saw everything. They saw where he keeps all his treasures he had been collecting for the past months.

But why?! Why did they even think about looking for that? Has Kuuya been acting too obvious? But he made sure he wouldn't be too creepy! Well, at least not as creepy as he truly wanted to be. How was that happening all of a sudden?!

The taste of copper interrupted his mental breakdown and he looked down at his thumb, where tiny droplets of blood appeared after he anxiously chewed it.

"It's okay, it's fine" he kept repeating in his mind, like a mantra. He'd just need to see how you'd act around him after that.

If you stopped interacting with him (even if most of those interactions were just good mornings and good evenings coming from YOU), he would probably just... end it all for once. Or maybe kidnap you so you wouldn't run away. Whatever crossed his mind first.

With his heart beating loud on his chest, Kuuya walked back to his seat and forced himself to work, spreadsheets and numbers flashing on his mind, unnoticed.

All he could think was of your hands rummaging through his drawers.

Oh god, your hands touched his things.

Kuuya exhaled sharply, rubbing his thighs together to alleviate the sudden discomfort in his groin. What would he do if you never even looked at his direction again? Sure, you could even report him to the HR, but not being able to see you was a fate worse than being fired!

His mind tumbled, wandering through every worst scenario possible, and in his despair, he didn't notice it was already time to clock out.

"Good evening, Kuuya." You say as you pass by him, nodding your head, with a tight smile.

'Huh?'

Kuuya stares at nothing in front of him, until the fact that you talked to him registers in his mind.

'HUH?'

You talked to him?

Wait.

Did you really see what was in his drawers? Was he just hallucinating? No, there's no way he was. He saw how your colleagues stared at you when you ran to his table. They SAW you. Just like he did. So you saw everything. And you don't hate him? What the fuck. You don't find him disgusting? What? What the hell.

He didn't understand.

He couldn't understand.

He had to understand.

And so, he led himself towards your house, hiding in the bushes right in front of your bedroom window.

How lucky was he that you didn't live in an apartment building?

He was there to understand you better. Just for that. And it'd be just this time, he swore. Just to see what was up with you.

His breath was ragged and heavy and his cheeks burned red. He bit his bottom lip tightly to keep any moan from escaping as he palmed himself through his pants, while he watched the way you stripped yourself of your work clothes.

Quickly undoing his belt buckle and his pants, he let himself be completely overtaken by pure lust and began pumping his dick mercilessly as he was graced with just a little bit more of your skin, right in front of him.

He saw you sigh as you got rid of your pants and his eyes rolled back, imagining how you'd sound if he was the one taking your clothes off.

Oh, what would he give to be able to jump through your window and grab one of your dirty clothes and get drunk on your scent...

The thought made him buck his hips forward clumsily, and he gritted his teeth, hard.

Well, fuck.

He panted, while he observed the way his cum dripped from the leaves of the bush, and as coherent thoughts started flowing back to his mind, he suddenly hoped he wasn't moving too much to catch your attention.

You hadn't even looked his way, so he was safe, right?

Right?

You rubbed your thighs together as you kept your back turned to the window. The windowpane was open, in order to allow the wind to flow through your bedroom, and due to this little fact, you could hear a faint sound coming from the plants right in front of your window.

A quiet, almost indiscernible (if you weren't paying close attention) plap plap plap sound.

You bit your lip to keep your grin from spreading through your lips.

The dumbass was masturbating! Right there! Right in front of your room!

You sighed, feeling the heat pool in between your legs, but controlled your instinct to pull him out from wherever he was and fuck him silly in your bedroom.

You desired him so fucking much. You thrived in his attention, like a sunflower leaning towards rays of light.

The thing is: while you loved his obsession, you were also deathly afraid that he would lose interest in you as soon as he found out how much you also wanted him.

Much like a cat who discards a prey. Except this cat was wet, sad, pathetic and still, you were ridiculously eager to keep playing dead so he would put his grimy, sticky little paws on you just a little bit more.

How would Kuuya feel, you wondered, if he knew you were as obsessed with him as much as he was with you?

[moonsaver]

wheover that anon was that spoke up about mr reca I LOVE U WE SHOULD KISS

ALSO YESSS IRIS FAM MEMBER! READER WHOS AN ACTRESS/ACTOR!!! just imagine being THE mr. reca’s favorite thespian he’s ever worked with oh my gosh im drooling rn 😍🥰😋🔥😜

Yes anon!! Very real of the other anon. And of you.

This is yandere, so tw

Iris!Reader who's an actress/actor would smash. Imagine despite your humble beginnings and barely being able to keep your family afloat you make it. Although perhaps our beloved actor/actress doesn't quite fit the beauty standard, or they haven't made their debut in a popular film, or maybe they just aren't what most movies are focused on right now, considering the disparity between an actor's range and the genres they might partake in.

Here comes Mr. Reca, swooping you from who knows where, plopping you down into a makeup chair and reading the script to you at 50 words/sec speed. You have no idea where you are or what's going on before you're pushed onto the movie set, completely winded before Mr. Reca throws his hands up all "oh alright! Since you can't get the hang of this yet, I'll lend you a hand" or whatever excuse he loves to pull out of his ass. He personally guides you with the movie scripts, drags you along to any parties he may have to attend, forces you "into the filming sphere" or whatever by "exposure". You could be sleeping and he'd blast into your personal residence at 4 in the morning, and drag you along. He probably even forces you to sit down and listen to all his ideas and brainstorming sessions.

The more time you spend with him, the more sense he eventually makes. It's strange, and you almost end up questioning if you might be going insane. But you brush it off, because you realise he's been caring to you. Unlike most directors, he does care for his cast. He does provide a hospitable atmosphere to work with, which makes you realise just why your co-stars are so eager to please him. Mr. Reca, although insane and hard to decipher, makes you almost gravitate towards him when his eccentricities are laid bare before you.

Every time your short contract ends, he's already got the next one printed out and ready for you to sign. You appear so often beside him, it's unusual for you not to. Often, you make headlines with Mr. Reca backing you up. It's all in the palm of his hands when he gets you to stardom.

Oh, but isn't it a bit too much?

Nosy paparazzi that continually stalk and harass you, fans or even those that despise you call you or your family, people surrounding your home just to get a glimpse of your daily life, drivers who follow your car everywhere.. it's a bit too much for your pretty little head to handle. Mr. Reca is all too familiar with these pests. Why don't you stand closer and let him deal with them? Nevermind the fact he paid them, or that he's been rather eager to practice method acting with you.

Speaking of, he's replaced all your co-stars whenever it comes to suggestive or intimate scenes, considering himself as their stand-in since, well.. You're more comfortable with him, aren't you? You've been under his wing for so long, it's easier for you to do these uncomfortable scenes with him, instead of those no good actors.

You're not sure when it happens, but you notice the amount of cast dwindling until it's you and him, all alone. The movies are beautiful, but it's hard to hide the shivering by just pure acting skills when you realise no one has you in their grasp as much as Mr. Reca. His eager, insane eyes watching you like a rabid animal hidden behind a camera when you act all alone on a solitary set. This is the last time he allows the privilege of your visage on the lens, before you mysteriously go missing. You are meant for only the lens of his observant eyes, he states, as though confessing a haunting realisation.

Oh well, you can continue acting. Just remember your audience. It's only him you have to consider pleasing.

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 24/10/2024 Lando Norris - Humping/ ThighJob

Plot: You and Lando are great multitaskers

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, thighjob, humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

You and Lando were very busy people. Him going round the world for the majority of the year driving fast cars and you acting in your tv shows and movies as an up and coming actress.

That’s actually how you met Lando. A very long winded funny way but hey always say people are out in the same place at the same time for a reason and that is something you both loved by.

You’d taken on a role in the Gran Turismo Movie, as the girlfriend to Jann and it was an incredible experience working with all these amazing actors and being involved in cars.

Here you met Geri, who was a co-star of yours and that ended up meaning you met Christian Horner at the movie premiere. You’d gotten talking to him about all that you’d learnt about cars and how it fascinated you which led him to inviting you with RedBull to the paddock which is where you’d met and the rest was history.

Your relationship where you were both travelling so much was a little strained. You tried to go to as many races as possible which normally was at least half of the calendar.

So when you guys were together you were both incredibly clingy. Always around one another always trying to get some kind of physical contact.

That was where you guys struggled in intimacy too, a lot of your time was spent on dates and making sure to spend as much time together as possible that you were often very exhausted or still too busy to do anything or a sexual nature.

So a lot of the time you’d do things that worked around both your tight schedules.

Like right now, he was working on his sim racing and you were incredibly horny and needy for him. So you plopped yourself over him, straddling his thigh covered in his Quadrant tracksuit bottoms. You were bare, you’d made sure to come in like that. He was just doing laps for the upcoming race in Monza, so he didn’t have any issues you joining him.

You stayed there, kissing along his neck bringing moans out of him. His arms circled around you to grab the wheel restarting the sim. You start to move your hips up and down, and you can already feel a wet spot growing in his tracksuit bottoms. Your hips moved in tandem up and down little breathy gasps and moans coming from you mouth as you feel the pressure scrape along your sensitive clit.

“Fuck Lan” you moan into him and your hips speed up a bit. His leg also moves every now and then when he breaks going round a corner and jiggles when the other accelerates.

“Your such a good girl. Little multitasker” he smiles, as he finishes another really good lap time. He knew the circuit well enough that he could probably do it blindfolded so even having his insanely hot girlfriend above him couldn’t make him forget the racing line.

“I’m gonna, fuck” you moan as you speed up. His hands come down you your hips helping you move back and forth, the scrape against him delicious and insatiable.

“That’s it, cum for me gorgeous. Getting yourself of on my thigh like that. Such a good girl” he complements.

But it wasn’t just you who found pleasure in humping, especially against his thigh. There was many times where he’d be eating you out, as it was one of his favourite things to do to you, and he’d get so into it he’d start thrusting his hips into the bed, getting the needed pressure on his cock.

Usually it was you coming all over his face that had him creaming his pants, and looking at the dark spot against his boxers or joggers however far he’d gotten stripping his own clothes off.

The most recent time was when you were laying on the sofa, your script for you upcoming film where you’d gotten the lead role in front of you.

You were playing Poppy in You and Me on Vacation with Tom Blyth as Alex and you were so excited as there were so many different filming locations you could go to and strangely the schedule fit in really well with Lando’s races. You’d be filming a lot of the Florida scenes just after Miami so you could watch that race and would have plenty of time to go to the next one.

He is in the mood and you were actually pretty sore from the night before where he’d absolutely been a feral wild dog.

You were just rereading the scenes making sure you had Poppy’s vibe down, as you’d read the book and spoken to the author herself. When Lando came up behind you.

He lifted your thighs and hips up so you were sort of in doggy styled which made you groan ready to protest that you weren’t ready for sex as you were still exhausted after last night.

“I know baby, is it okay if I just use those pretty thighs of yours. I just need you so bad but I know we went hard last night!” He whines in a pleading way that had your head turning round to try and look at him over your shoulder.

“And that didn’t take the beast enough?” You ask wide eyes and he shakes his head with a guilty look.

“Argh fine go ahead just don’t distract me from the script. I need to read my lines out loud.

“Why don’t you move into one of those sex scenes huh?” He asks lightly biting the top bit of your ear making you giggle.

“Alright hmmmm I can’t remember where they have sex” you say flicking through the script until you find it.

“Will you actually have to have sex with this guy?” Lando asks looking at you.

“No you weirdo it’s all acting and we have stuff like in between us” you tell him with a laugh as you feel him slip his cock between your thighs. You squeeze them together and hear him moan above you as you start talking him through the sex scene you were supposed to perform with Tom.

His thrusts speed up as you talk him through the actions and what is being said until he pulls back his cum spurting into the back of your thighs as he sighs with a little whine.

“Thanks baby, you’re the best” he smiles, grabbing a tissue from the table to help clean you up. You highlight stuff in the scrip that you consider valuable information before you feel Lando’s weight on top of you.

“I love you so much. Thank you for always making time for me” you say genuinely closing the script and holding his hand that is on your forearm.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[huaiian]

Imagine Being Loved By Me (Sylus x Fem!Reader)

Summary:

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

In short, it’s the MC/Reader’s birthday and Sylus let’s her have her way with him.

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader or MC

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY

Words: 4.6 K

AO3 Link Here

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Dom!MC or Dom!Reader, Sub!Sylus, Bondage, Cumming (kinda) Untouched, Overstimulation, Porn but there's a thread of a plot

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy! I haven't really written anything like this in a LOOOONG time so if it's not great I apologize. This is basically just me going hmm, what if you tied him up and made him cry. And well uhh….idk this happened. If you aren't into Submissive Sylus then I'm sorry, you'll probably want to skip out on this one ╥﹏╥

You awoke to rays of sun gently fanning across your face. Your nose scrunched up and you stretched your hands above your head, groaning slightly as your joints began to pop. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled slightly, eyes opening slightly, glancing to the side.

“Someone’s up bright and early,” Sylus sighs, arms bringing you closer to him. His head moves to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath and giving you a gentle kiss on your pulse point. Your smile widens, cradling the back of his head and guiding him upwards. You share a small peck before pulling back, adoration clear in your gaze.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers into the morning air. You kiss him again as he envelopes you in his embrace.

The day progresses as any other day would, aside from the fact that it’s your birthday and Sylus will stop at nothing to shower you with gifts and attention. Did you mention a beautiful Tiffany & Co. necklace you wanted? He got you the entire collection. You said you wanted a new purse right? He took it upon himself to get you every Birkin he could find in person. It was all too much for you, having a more reserved and shy personality usually, but it’s your birthday so why not live a little.

Sylus led you from place to place, joining you in all of your favorite hobbies before surprising you at the end of the night with your closest friends and coworkers at the local karaoke bar. Sylus had to use his pseudonym, Skye, just as he did when you had coincidentally met him in a similar circumstance. Only this time, instead of trying to distance yourself from him the entire night, you were doing your best not to drag him towards you and kiss him until you saw stars.

“Sweetie,” he whispered in your ear, a shiver running up your spine, “you still have one more gift that you’ll need to open.”

“Oh?” You questioned, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “And what might that gift be? Don’t tell me you bought me an entire island or something ridiculous.”

Sylus was silent for a beat, causing you to straighten and whirl around, eyes wide and mouth agape at the implication. He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes scrunching up at the corners. “No my dear, though it can be arranged. All you need to do is ask,”

“NO, no I’m definitely happy and definitely don’t need you to spend anything more than you already have,” you stammer, a light blush coloring your cheeks. His laughter dies down and he smirks, leaning forward so his mouth is up against your ear.

“No love, this gift won’t cost me a thing,” his breath fanning out across your ear. Almost as if he could hear your confusion, he clarifies for you.

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

You could feel warmth rush through you in that moment, understanding the implication of his words. You never believed in the phrase ‘butterflies in your stomach’ until now, feeling the strange sensation combined with your heart stuttering in your chest, you could tell that it was going to be a long night.

After Sylus’ slight teasing, you slowly begin to exit the karaoke bar, hugging friends and catching up with some old co-workers here and there before finally making a subtle departure. You didn’t want to ruin the party for everyone else, but you also had a present waiting at home that had been plaguing your mind for hours now. You snatched Sylus’ hand and started dragging him over to his motorcycle, the man squeezing your hand gently. 

“I see someone’s anticipation is slowly getting the best of her,” he teased. The motorcycle came into view, which only made you take larger strides.

“If I had known how much you’d enjoy this gift, I would’ve departed a long time ago-” his voice was cut off by you suddenly swinging him forward, leaning him against the bike before cupping his cheeks. His eyes widened before you brought his face forward, your lips colliding in an aggressive kiss, showcasing your pent up frustration. He hummed into the kiss before his hands came to rest on your hips. 

As the kiss deepened, his hands snake towards your ass, that is until you swatted them away. You broke the kiss to find an adorably confused expression on his face. You lean forward, slightly on your tiptoes to try to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, I thought the birthday girl was going to call the shots. Isn’t that right?” You questioned him with a smug demeanor. His eyes darkened before nodding. You grabbed his chin and pulled him in for another kiss, where it was obvious that you were in complete control. He could feel the smile on your face before pulling back again.

“That’s my good boy.”

He groans, eyes closing again before you bring him back into a possessive kiss. You wanted to muffle any sounds he might make in case anyone had the audacity of hearing him in this state; a state only you were allowed to see. You broke apart from him again, his eyes opening again and looking towards you for further direction.

“Let’s get you home baby, I’ll take care of you,” you softly tell him, hand cupping his face and thumb gently wiping just before his eye. He nods mindlessly at you before whispering “yes ma’am.” He climbs atop of the motorcycle as you follow close behind. Before you realize it, Sylus is weaving in and out of traffic at speeds you knew were nowhere near safe. Could it be due to your hand squeezing his inner thigh, your chest pressed against his back ever so tightly. 

When you arrive at home, you notice that the twins and Mephisto aren’t there to welcome you home. You sigh slightly out of exasperation, taking Sylus’ hand once more before leading him inside the house. The darkness and silence is all encompassing, all that can be heard in yours and Sylus’ breaths desperately trying to calm yourselves of your racing heartbeats.

As you move through the house, you finally locate the bedroom door, noticing that candles had been lit, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. 

“I’ll have to give the boys their thanks later,” you state, giggling slightly to yourself at the turn of events.

Sylus frowns slightly before squeezing your hand harder to indicate his irritation at the mention of the twins. You laugh openly now, ushering Sylus to sit on the bed.

“It seems that someone’s a jealous little toy huh,” you speak, an authoritative tone engulfing your words in a new weight. Sylus scoffs, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side.

“As though you wouldn’t be upset with me if I starting bringing up other women in the bedroom,” 

“What other women Sylus,” you speak up, your hands grabbing his wrists and unfolding his arms. You widen your stance and take a seat on his lap, your index finger and thumb grasping his chin to force him to look you in the eye. He looks at you with a slight scowl on his face, but his widening pupils and growing bulge in his pants tells you that the expression is just for show.

“Enlighten me,” you tease, leaning forward so your lips ghost his ever so slightly, “what other women are you talking to?” The question falls upon deaf ears as your hand moves from his chin to his hair, curling around some strands before gripping tightly, tugging his head backwards. Sylus gasps sharply as you feel his cock twitch below you. You move your head swiftly to his neck, kissing up his neck before reaching his jawline just below his ear. You start sucking sharply, nipping at the skin to ensure that a mark appears in your wake. 

He moans low, his hands fisting the sheets below him. His head falls to the side, allowing you greater access to his neck. You let go of the sensitive skin, but you don’t move away. Your breaths dampening the skin below you before you ask again, “Answer me Sylus: What other women are you talking to?” 

“No one,” he states, sounding out of breath and ragged before groaning again as you bite his neck with pressure just enough to leave a mark. You release his neck before licking a stripe upwards, whispering in his ear, “that’s a good boy,” before softly biting his ear lobe.

Sylus’ hips buck upwards, searching for any kind of friction. You let out a ‘hmph’ before grinding down harshly, forcing a muttered ‘oh fuck’ out of his mouth. 

“Now that won’t do,” you state, slowly getting up from his lap. He opens his eyes slowly, half lidded. His eyes watch you as you move your way towards the dresser, his breath stuttering as he sees you grab rope you both are all too familiar with. He kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, positioning himself on his knees with his hands behind his back. 

“How obedient,” you observe as he sits, awaiting for your instruction, “but we won’t be in this position today.” He quirks an eyebrow up at you, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You smirk as well, knowing that the poor bastard had no idea what he had signed up for when offering his last present to you.

You kick off your heels and crawl in front of him on your knees. His chest starts rising and falling more noticeably and he tries to calm his breathing. You start undressing him, giving gentle instructions as needed. He obeyed without any resistance and as you were slowly peeling off his last layer, cock springing upwards and onto his stomach, you heard a quiet moan leave him. 

You remove the boxers and throw them to the side, attention stuck on the pretty pink length twitching slightly at your gaze. You lean forward, licking a fat stripe on the underside of his cock, reveling in the way his breath stutters and his thighs shake. You give a quick suck to the head before pulling back, raising your head upwards to make eye contact with the man.

“Sweetie please,” he whispers, hand reaching forward to grab your waist. You quickly took his wrist and put your other hand on the middle of his check slowly pushing him backwards on the bed, pinning his hands above his head, straddling his hips. You could feel his cock underneath you through your jeans, moving your hips in a subtle circular motion. You hear him whimpering faintly, and you squeeze his wrists before letting them go. His wrists stay above his head, his gaze pleading with you to let him feel you in his rough grasp.

You grab the forgotten rope at your side before cupping his cheek, bringing him into a tender kiss. Sylus attempted to deepen the kiss, but you smiled and pulled away. 

“Spread out baby,” you say to him, unraveling the rope. He rolls his eyes and spreads out, his hands and feet pointing towards their respective corners.

“You know, when I offered up this as a present, I wasn’t expecting…” he trails off, trying to find the right words, “all of this enthusiasm. I thought you enjoyed begging underneath me,  begging for my co-” 

He was cut off from his bratty tirade by a sharp slap to the inner thigh, causing his hips to buck and the words to die on his tongue.

“I didn’t think I needed to keep that pretty mouth of yours in check,” you say with a bored tone, sighing slightly. You finish up tying the last ankle to the corner of the bed, using a single column tie for his wrists and ankles. As you lean back to acknowledge your handiwork, you can see his arms and legs straining a little, testing out the ropes. Unfortunately for him, the ropes are secure and unless he’s willing to beg, there's no getting out of them now.

You straddle his midriff and he looks up at you with a slight scowl at you tying him down. You cup his cheeks with your hands and kiss him deeply, languidly. You’re able to take your time now and you’re going to savor every second of it. He kisses you back, matching your leisurely pace.

You part the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “I have scissors in the left hand drawer,” you mutter, kissing the corner of his mouth. “The safe word is Featherstar. Do I make myself clear?” You look at him sternly, wanting him to take this seriously. He nods his head and attempts to lean forward to kiss you once more. You click your tongue at him, moving away. 

“I’m gonna need you to use your words my love,” you tell him in a hushed tone. He pouts at you but nods again, replying with a simple “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“Thank you sweetie,” you whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver. You start kissing down his neck, leading the middle of his chest. You start sucking and biting different areas on his chest, knowing that the man would start unraveling at the seams. Sure enough, he was humming and groaning at the attention his chest was receiving.

You moved towards his nipple, dragging your tongue across the sensitive bud. You felt it perk up and start to harden as you swirled your tongue around it in small circles.

“Oh sweetie, fuck,” he sighs, his arms straining against the ropes. He lets out an annoyed huff followed by a low pitched groan and you start to suck on the raised bud. You continue sucking and your other hand caresses his side, trailing your fingers upwards until they reach his other nipple. You tweak the unoccupied nipple in between your fingers, pinching and rubbing it in small circles similar to your tongues movements before swapping the two. Your mouth comes and replaces your hand while your other hand comes up to caress his pec. 

Sylus moans and twitches underneath you, becoming more and more agitated by his inability to touch you. “Baby, when will you release me? This is getting a bit boring, don’t you think?” He tries his best to keep his voice from wavering with arousal. 

You look up at him and bite down on his nipple, causing the man to moan and tip his head back on the bed. You release his nipples and kiss your way to the center of his chest again. “Bargaining isn’t going to work my dear, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to this.”

He tries to calm his breathing as you start caressing his body, your fingers applying feather light pressure to him, goosebumps rising on his skin. You venture lower until you’re sitting back, his cock straining against his stomach in a red color that looks somewhat irritated from the lack of attention. 

Your touch delicately brushes against his length, his cock jumping and twitching with every touch. “You’re killin’ me sweetie,” he says, sounding out of breath. You continue the movements, making no effort to apply anymore pressure or stimulation. He whimpers as his dick starts leaking a constant stream of precum, creating a shallow puddle on his stomach. 

“You can come just from this can’t you?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. He shakes his head slightly before flinching as your fingers gather some of the precum, teasing the tip. His thighs flex, trying to plant his feet onto the mattress but to no avail. You giggle at his reaction, playing with the slit before leaning forward, licking the shell of his ear.

“Don’t you want to make me proud? It is my birthday after all,” you purr into his ear, his breathing becoming erratic. You could tell he was close, all he needed was some pushing. You took your free hand and grasped his hair. 

“Don’t you want to be a good boy, make me proud?” You say, tugging his hair so his head would be pulled back. He made a choked off noise and shut his eyes suddenly, whimpering as he came, hot streaks of cum shooting up towards his chest. You could see the veins in his arms protruding from being restricted. You smiled, cooing in his ear praises of how well he was doing. 

Sylus took a few calming breaths before looking at you, his eyes glassy and gaze filled with longing. “Please baby, let me go,” he tries again. You shake your head before getting up, straddling him again. He quirks an eyebrow before you start to undress yourself, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling off your top, only left in a matching underwear set you treated yourself to for your big day. His eyes widened as he gazed upon the maroon lace seemingly painted across your breasts.

His distraction was evident as you started to crawl your way upwards, pussy hovering over his face. Even so, his eyes had not left the lingerie once. It seemed as though he was unaware as to what your next move would be, completely taken aback by your choice of attire to ask any questions. You gripped his hair again to tilt his head backwards so he made eye contact with you. 

“Try to keep up,” you stated, using your other hand to push your panties aside. His mouth drops open, saliva beginning to pool in his mouth. Before he can retort, your thighs spread further apart, sitting yourself on his mouth, nose nudging your clit. You moan out as he tongue begins to work you open, lapping up the wetness with a new refound vigor. You started rutting against his mouth, grinding downward so his nose would grind against your clit at an addicting pace.

“Your tongue-” you groan, removing your hands so you could place them behind you, leaning back against his thighs, “God you’re good at this.” You gripped his upper thighs, feeling the firm muscle underneath your hands quivering. You lifted your hips up and away from his mouth for a moment to let him catch his breath. The smug satisfaction pools in the pit of your stomach as you see his chin glisten, mouth open while he takes a brief reprieve. 

“You better get your ass back over here sweetie-” he starts, impatience in his voice. You roll your eyes at him once more pushing yourself back into his mouth. “I’m gonna need to punish you for speaking out of turn like that, ya know,” you tell him, grinding down harder and harder as he works you open. You gasp as he starts fucking you open with his tongue, moaning at your taste. 

You glance behind you and find not only is he fully erect again, but it seems he’s just as close to release as you. And well, we can’t have that can we?

You could feel yourself getting close, and as rode him harder and faster, you reached for his cock behind you, squeezing just under his head. Sylus whimpers loudly in response, but continues to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

With one last nudge of his nose against your clit, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, body going stiff and you came on his tongue. You could feel him pant against your thigh as he tried to calm himself, hips thrusting upward to try and reach his release as well.

“Love please let me come, please, you tasted so good I wanna come too, please,” he begs, mumbling against the inside of your thigh. You pull back from his mouth as he whimpers in protest. You raise up, letting go of his cock as it falls against his stomach heavily. You take off your bra and panties, looking at him with a devious glint in your eye. 

You grab him by the chin so his mouth would open slightly. “Open up,” you ordered and he reluctantly obeyed. You realized he was going to try to come up with a witty retort, but you knew how to satiate him for the time being. You took your panties coated in your wetness and shoved them in his mouth, gagging him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and moaned loudly. 

“Don’t worry Sylus, I just wanted to save your stamina,” you tell him, moving backwards so your cunt was hovering over his cock. He shivered and moaned at the feeling of you grinding down on his dick, heavy with want and radiating with heat. You moved your cunt against him, slicking up his dick. You finally lifted up and grabbed the base of his shaft, circling the head around your entrance. He started breathing heavily through his nose, the pressure from his yanking causing the ropes around him making the bed frame creak. 

“Such a patient boy, you’ve been waiting so nicely,” you gasp out as you slowly start to sink down on him. He moans loudly, voice muffled by the panties. You take him inch by inch before sitting fully on him, feeling filled to the brim. All that can be heard are the desperate breaths between the two of you. You place your hands on his abs before raising yourself up, tip almost slipping out. As your hips come down forcefully, you hear a punched out moan escape Sylus, little noises escaping him the more you move, however slight.

You start riding him with new vigor, bouncing up and down on his cock, trying to get him to reach deeper and deeper inside you. His moans are becoming louder and louder, with whimpers escaping him whenever you take a moment to sit and swivel your hips in circular motions. The sounds Sylus begins to make sound more and more frantic, wobbly from desperation.

“It’s ok, cum for me Sylus. Fill me up, I wanna be filled with your cum,” your tone sounding strained and you uncontrollably start moving on his cock, desperate for him. It only takes a few more times bouncing on his cock before you hear a muffled shout, feeling warmth spread through you. You moan out, a high pitched squeal leaving your lips as you cum around his cock, milking him inside of you.

You look over and see his head lolled to the side, saliva dripping out of the side of his mouth around your panties. You lean forward and gently move his face so he looks at you. You cup his cheek and praise him as you gingerly remove the panties from his mouth. He breathes through his mouth deeply, coughing slightly. 

You had planned to be done from here, thinking that you've had enough fun, but you can’t help but think of how far you’ll be able to push the infamous leader of Onychinus. A devious part in you wants to break him, while another part of you wants to give him mercy. 

You decide to be selfish, still craving more and more from him. You squeeze around his cock and he groans out, mumbling a soft “baby, please”. Before long, you start moving in circles again, and Sylus is below you, pleading with tears in his eyes.

“Oh God, oh fuck, I don’t- I don’t know if I- SHIT!” He yells out, tears escaping from the corner of his eyes, head hitting the bed behind him hard as he tries grasping for something, anything to keep him grounded.

“Miss please, please, I can’t I- I need to touch you please please,” he begs, voice coming out shaky as you start lifting yourself up and down on his cock again. You were getting tired and felt as though his punishment had gone on long enough.

“Just your legs-” before you could continue, Sylus’ evol appears out of thin air, slicing the ropes that are connecting his ankles to the corners of the bed. You startle, stopping for a second before yelping, bracing your hands on his chest as he plants his feet into the bed, roughly thrusting up into you. You moan out harshly, sounds punching out of you with every thrust of his hips. 

“You feel so good around me sweetie, so hot…so soft…kiss me,” he babbles. You prop yourself up and surge forward, meeting him in the middle. Your teeth clash and you can feel desperation in the kiss as you both try to ground yourselves with the other. 

“Sylus please…please I need more, I need you to mark me, claim me, I’m all yours,” you whimper. His arms flex and his biceps bulge at the urge to grab you, feel your plush skin against his roughened palms. He whimpers at the realization of the restraints, giving you a pleading look that could send you to your knees.

“Touch me Sylus,” you order. Within an instant, his voice evol slashes the ropes and he’s grabbing you, taking you by the hips and physically lifting you up and down his cock. You scream out in pleasure as you can feel your release approaching swiftly. You can tell by his sloppy movements and frenzied expression that he’s close as well. 

You begin to chant his name over and over, having the words be punched out of you by his thrusts. You feel him hitting you deeper and deeper, fucking his cum back into you over and over again. You grasp the back of his neck and pull him to you, kissing him sloppily. 

As he returns the kiss to you, you break away slightly with a silent scream, hurdling over the edge and feeling nothing but a white static. Your body feels euphoric and, at the sight of your pleasure, Sylus gasps and thrusts up into you with one sharp movement, cumming hard to the point where it bordered on painful. After coming down from your highs, You languidly grab one of the random pieces of clothing you had discarded before to wipe off his chest. 

Before you could get up to get some more cleaning supplies, Sylus holds you captive in his arms as he slowly leans back onto the bed, cradling your head and bringing you to his chest. As your breaths slow and the drowsiness starts to appear, you look up at Sylus.

“Thank you Sylus,” You whisper to him, kissing the center of his chest. He clutches you harder, kissing the top of your head. “I had no idea my love could be so…domineering,” he chuckled as you blushed, hiding your face into his chest. He laughed once more before kissing your head again. 

“I don’t mind it though. We can play around a bit more in the future but,” he stops, contemplating for a moment. You look up at him with hope and mischief in your eyes. He sighs and holds you tighter, mumbling “maybe for special occasions only though. Don’t want my kitten to get too greedy with her toys now.” 

You laugh and hug him closer to you, craving the intimacy of just being close to him. He tugs you upwards and burrows his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in before he confides, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

You giggle a little at his words and kiss his shoulder, “I don’t think I mind that. Not at all.”

_____

Author's Note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! If you'd like to see any other stories or continuations of this let me know, I'd be happy to write some more.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

⋆｡°✩ Do Roommates Sleep Together?

“We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but the delicate foundation you built cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt. “Do roommates sleep together too?”

Synopsis: Your relationship with Xavier is unconventional, skipping and trampling on the many proper steps society deems appropriate. It should take months to form the trust needed to sleep together, and it should take years for you to ask him to move in with you.

Yet, here you are, with more courage to ask him to live with you than to tell him you’re in love with him.

Content Warning: fluff, suggestive dialogue, pining, literal sleeping together, a lot of internal exposition, mild angst, hurt/comfort, acquaintances to friends to lovers, implied soulmate tomfoolery to justify the fast burn, small references to chapter 4 main story, Heartstring Symphony, Nighttime Stroll, Shooting Stars Myth, and Unit 602's Representative Phone Call, Xavier sucks at following the non-interference policy (he tried his best), female reader, 6.5k words, safe for work

A/N: First section before Warm Wishes/Dreams within Reach tender moments and second section after Close Feelings tender moment to give a better timeframe. This is going to be two parts with the second part NSFW.

“Do you want to hang out at my place?” 

Your smile begins to flatten as Xavier stares at you from his doorway. There’s a listless energy radiating from him. It’s intimidating even if there’s no anger behind his hooded gaze, the kind of intimidation where you’re afraid he might not be listening to you or even wants to listen to you.

“This new scary movie came out. Tara was supposed to watch with me, but she had a last-minute thing to take care of,” you explain, watching as he yawns and wipes his eyes. “So, I thought that maybe you’d like to watch with me instead. Or, we can do something else. I got games. Monopoly, Phase 10, Kitty Cards.” 

Xavier rubs at the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eye. “Are you sure you want it to be just the two of us?” 

There are many things to be said about your relationship with Xavier. You’re work partners, neighbors in the same apartment complex, and you consider him your friend. It’s also true that your friendship is young despite the many hours at the arcade together and whatever stories your co-workers like to imagine, making your offer sound more like a date invitation than hanging out. It causes you to go tongue-tied as your innocent mistake blankets you.

“Oh, not in that way! I mean not that it would be a bad thing.” You start to lose your composure when you meet his gaze again. It’s not like you wouldn’t go on a date with him if given the opportunity. He’s tall, soft-spoken, and very handsome. It’s more surprising he doesn't have a girlfriend. “I was thinking it could be a good way to foster friendship between hunters. Yeah, that’s it!”

The truth was that you were looking for something to distract yourself ever since the incident at your grandmother’s house. Tara having to cancel bummed you out more than you wanted to admit, but you didn’t want him to agree because he felt sorry for you.

“I understand,” Xavier cuts in. “I’d be happy to join you…in an hour,” he finishes with another small yawn. 

“Great!” you cheer. “See you soon.”

When you make it back to the elevator, you’re taken aback about how happy you are that he agreed. You thought you were simply happy not to have to be alone on your day off, but this was a different kind of satisfaction than when you invited Tara. It was a little strange but you ignored the thought and clicked the button to your floor. 

When Xavier arrives, everything goes as planned. You spread out an array of snacks on the table in front of the sofa, which your selection seems to be approved by how quickly he opens the package of chips and hums to himself when he takes a bite. 

“This is supposed to be super scary! I read you won’t sleep for days after,” you tell him, grabbing the remote to play the movie. 

“For days? Sounds awful,” Xavier mentions between bites, making you chuckle. 

“If you get scared, you always have me to protect you.” 

“I’m more worried about you than me,” he mouths off. “You always look like a statue when I tell you scary stories.”

“Fake movies and stories based on real places are different!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he agrees on the surface. You’re not sure how you only make friends with people who love to tease you, but you make no mention of it as the movie finally reaches its opening sequence. 

It doesn’t take long for you to realize this movie’s fear factor was greatly over exaggerated. There were monsters, sure, but also one too many jump scares and dark scenes that made it hard to tell what was happening. Fighting wanderers for a living did leave you a bit desensitized as well, you guess. 

As you reach to fill in your boredom with more chips, you can’t help but notice how Xavier looks like he’s about to give out any second. His eyes are drooping and his head bobbing to the side. You lose count of how many times he forces his limp body straight and strains to watch the movie playing on the screen, one agonizingly slow blink at a time.

“I’m fine,” he says before you can bring up how tired he looks.

“It’s not a big deal, Xavier. This movie is pretty boring, so if you wanna call it a night, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” You don’t want him to leave yet but you don't want to keep him up either. Sighing, you’re frustrated the movie isn’t as exciting as you thought it would be, and it’s difficult to fight the disappointment from showing on your face. 

And, well, Xavier…

“It’s alright. It’s honestly not bad, so—”

Xavier doesn’t even finish his sentence before his head hangs over. In hindsight, you start to realize that you must have woken him up earlier, explaining his prior passiveness.

You always wondered what he did on the days he wasn’t working. It should’ve been apparent to you that he spends most of his free time sleeping. No wonder his apartment was always so quiet during the day. You’re thankful he wasn’t actually annoyed at you earlier but guilty for interrupting his rest and decide to grab him a blanket.

You don’t notice him tilting to the side before you have the chance to get up. It’s quick after that. Without warning, he falls into you, his head brushing the side of your shoulder before he collapses on top of your lap.

The situation takes you by surprise, and the world churns to a slow stop. The sounds from the television fade into the background in favor of your heartbeat becoming the thing you’re most aware of when it registers that Xavier, a man you recently can call a friend, has fallen asleep in your lap. You have no idea what to do in a situation like this. It isn’t on purpose, so there’s no need to blow up, but you can’t allow this to continue.

So, you choose to wake him up.

“Xavier,” you call and rock his shoulder. You call his name again, a third time, and finally give up when he doesn’t budge by the fourth. “Would it be too mean to roll him off?” you wonder, grimacing as you imagine him hitting the floor. It would definitely be too mean.

Sighing, you gaze at his face nuzzled too comfortably against your thighs. Xavier looks so incredibly soft like this, bundled in an oversized Blanchi hoodie. It isn’t anything you’re not used to seeing him in. However, this is different. With his hair strewn across his temple and his face so at ease, it reminds you of a big fluffy bunny flopped over for an evening nap. Just like a cuddly bunny, you can’t resist petting him, brushing your fingers across his bangs to fix them. Your heart flutters as you confirm his hair is incredibly soft and his pale eyelashes longer than you ever noticed.

Not able to restrain yourself, you gently poke his cheek, marveling when it’s much chubbier than you imagined. It causes him to moan, his eyes twitching from the intrusion.

“Mm…what?” he groans out.

Swiftly, you pull your hand away, frightened he might have caught you.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stammer out, not the best of excuses; but in your defense, he caught you off-guard by waking up from something so small. When he doesn’t respond again, you quickly realize he’s still asleep. “Oh, he sleep talks!”

A mischievous wave washes over you from the new piece of information you acquired. Teasingly, you poke his cheek again, giggling when he shifts to hide his eyes from the light.

“Xavier, I have a question to ask you.” You slide your fingertips along his bangs once more. “Be honest. Are you Lumiere?”

Patiently, you wait for a response. However, nothing comes after several seconds. Just when you’re about to give up hope, you hear him muttering. You lean your head closer, hoping to hear him better.

“Red…” he mumbles.

You repeat after him. “Red?”

“Red…extra spicy.”

You blink at him, knitting your brows. “Extra spicy?”

Oh. The hot pot restaurant.

“Dreaming about food? That tracks.” You shrug. It was worth a shot. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

Choosing to leave him be, you’re about to sit back and continue the movie except you are interrupted by him mumbling again. This time, he whispers your name quietly under his breath causing your undivided attention to fall on him.

“Yes?” you ask.

Xavier sighs softly, peacefully.

“Come home…with me…”

There must be a world record for how fast someone can heat up, and you must have broken it. It’s like someone threw you directly into boiling oil and left you to burn in it. There’s no way you heard him correctly.

Did Xavier really ask you to come home…with him? Is he dreaming about you? If so, in what kind of dream? And why?

These are the questions stumping you. Sure, you consider him your friend, but when did he start to see you as someone close to him?

The more important question is why aren’t you doing anything about it? You aren’t angry about him whispering your name in his sleep nor offended, and it didn’t feel out of place to be close to him, like this, with his head resting in your lap and your hand in his hair. The moment becomes nicer and nicer—treasured—the more times you run it through your head, familiar even, like déjà vu.

There are too many variables for your brain to piece it all together in such a short amount of time. Praying for the tempest battering your emotional insides to reside, you resign yourself to your fate, allowing him to have his peace while your mind completely focuses on the words slipping from his dreams.

When Xavier begins to stir hours later, your movie is long finished, credits rolling as some dramatic music plays in the background. His eyes tighten then relax before he finally opens them, greeting you with hazy blue. He lifts himself into a stretch then rubs his eyes with his wrist. When he finally adjusts to his surroundings, he looks at you with an apologetic sulk.

“Did I…fall asleep on you?” he asks, grogginess still riding his voice.

“Literally or figuratively?” you ask as a joke, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him. Shaking your head, you try to ease the tension—the one known by him and the tension inside of yourself—by laughing. “It was both.”

Xavier blinks a few times, turns his head to the screen to see the credits rolling, and snaps his eyes back on you questioningly. “And you let me for two hours?”

“You looked really tired,” you explain, ignoring how hot your cheeks start to get. You couldn’t tell him you got distracted by his cute face. “I didn’t want to move and wake you.”

“I don’t wake that easily,” he states, proudly even. You almost tell him how well everyone knows he can sleep through a typhoon, but it’s drowned underneath the softness of his smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The look he gives you is so tender, like looking at a fond memory. It brings back the fluttering knots in your stomach from before as you imagine what could be the true reason behind that gaze. What could he possibly be thinking in his waking moments that would make him dream about you?

“Xavier, do you know you talk in your sleep?” The confused and panicked, deer caught in headlights expression, he gives causes you to fidget with your fingers and drop your gaze to your lap where they lay.

His face tinges slightly. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”

You bite your bottom lip as his face reddens. He looks so sweetly shy for once, and you’re starting to question if you’re overreacting by confronting him about something as silly as a dream, one that probably didn’t mean much.

“You tried to order food in your sleep!” you tell him with a small laugh, and his shyness melts away.

“I did? What did I get?”

“Red sauce. Extra Spicy.”

“Then, I guess that’s what I’ll get for dinner tonight,” he remarks. He doesn’t laugh but you can see the amusement reflected in blue eyes, which makes you return his happiness. Yet, the calm moment is short-lived as your mind becomes overwhelmed again by questions you were too nervous to ask; and a small piece of you, too afraid to know the answer.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing you out of your rampant, clashing thoughts. “You look sick.”

“I do?”

He nods, his expression softening.

”Are you still thinking about everything?" he pauses, his worry becoming more visible as he looks at you. "It must be difficult.” Your head blanks at his words. You weren’t aware Xavier gave you enough attention to notice your mood was different. You thought you did okay coming to terms with everything at least while at work to where he wouldn’t notice. 

“It’s been a pretty rough week, weeks, actually. I haven’t been sleeping well either,” you agree, struggling to keep your mind anywhere else but there. You’re sure you must look exhausted though. Your under eyes have been darker, the days you could convince Jenna you didn’t need any more leave a bit sluggish, and even Zayne warned you not to lose yourself in grief. It’s easier said than done.

What you don’t expect is for Xavier to grab your wrist and pull you closer.

Xavier normally isn’t the one to draw you, or others for that matter, to him. You’re the one who's been taking the steps to get to know more about him. Offering to help him get his plushie, bargaining with him into becoming your partner, asking him to watch movies with you, while he always seems to keep you a little at arms length, not opening up as much as you wish when sharing stories even when sometimes he looks like he desperately wants to before deciding against it.

Your eyes widen when your nose hits the side of his chest. It's strange to have him be the one pulling, failing to keep his boundaries and also testing them. You don’t want to push him away though. You liked this. Maybe because he was handsome. You hear pretty people can get away with anything, but it feels like more than that. Tara might have been right. Maybe you do have a crush on him but you didn’t care the reason right now when it’s so comforting. You can feel his muscles underneath the thick, warm fabric of his hoodie, and the clothing smells so nice. You can’t help thinking he definitely feels like a bunny too.

“Sleeping is much better with someone.” 

“How do you know?” you mumble against him.

“Well, I just had the best sleep I’ve had in days thanks to you. So, allow me to return the favor. I’ll be your pillow this time,” he offers; and surprisingly, your eyes do feel oddly heavy when his soothing voice reaches you. “Relax. I promise not to move for at least two hours, but you can take more if you like.”

”How kind,” you say with a smile, and it feels genuine.

Once again, you get the same familiar sensation from before, that same odd suspicion this has happened once before—or rather it’s supposed to happen? You’re too tired to think about it. You close your eyes to the most blissful dreams you’ve had in weeks.

When you wake up again, it’s not by choice. Xavier is looking down at you, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulders as your head lays on his chest. Your mind is still trapped halfway between being awake and asleep when he begins to talk.

“Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “Real well actually."

Xavier says something else but your tired mind misses the majority of it aside from the fact it’s getting late.

“You can spend the night if you want,” you tell him, allowing sleep to win back over as you try to close your eyes again, but he lifts you away from him, your head swaying with the motion until you find a place to prop your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind echoes with the thought of how soft his hoodie is and how you need one like it as you try to drift back off. Xavier is right. Sleeping with someone else is better, and this closeness you’ve been missing since you lost your family makes you needy. 

“It probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”

For some reason, it hurts to think he's back to pushing you away. Even though, it shouldn't.

“But you didn’t get a chance to watch the movie,” you reply, looking for an excuse for him not to leave. “It’s a 48-hour rental, so we can try again.”

Xavier shakes his head, gently poking at your forehead to force your head back. “I’m sure it’ll be twice as boring for you the second time.”

“If we watch it together…”

He meets your foggy gaze apologetically. “I don’t think we’d get very far.” 

“We won’t know until we try,” you argue drowsily. 

“You don’t look like you’d make it another ten minutes. You belong in bed.”

“I can,” you whimper as the too-bright lights of the overhead fan hit you. 

“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result,” he murmurs softly, almost teasingly until his tone takes on a seriousness you’re too lethargic to grasp, “Isn’t that insanity?”

“I like to call it determination. Who knows? Maybe this will be the time it works,” you joke. Instead of the smile you expected the look on his face is pensive and a little sad, like you touched a delicate spot. The sudden remorse wakes you up almost immediately. “Xavier?”

When he realizes you’re watching him, the longing in his gaze melts into something you can’t describe, other than the fact it makes your heart climb in your throat. 

“Alright,” he agrees, much to your surprise and relief. “Let’s try again…but tomorrow.”

Frowning, you avert your gaze, which makes him pet your head. 

“Don’t pout. Tonight, I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, moving back to rest your head against his chest.

Maybe your grandma wouldn’t have liked you getting so close to a man you didn’t know much about so quickly. Caleb would at least have a few questions, but your intuition tells you that you’re making the right choice when his arm goes back around you. As you start to drift off, you can swear you hear Xavier laughing at you under his breath. “You’re as impossible to say no to as always.”

You’re not entirely sure what time Xavier went back to his apartment that night, but the next morning you wake in your bed, looking forward to seeing him again. You only hope the sweet and confusing fact that you’re in love with him, of the parts he shows you when you’re alone, stays in your dreams the next night and the many nights following that you share with him.

Over the months, as your relationship with Xavier grows stronger, you find it common to share many things with each other. You play online games, house sit for one another, grow strawberries, and usually go home together after your deepspace trials. Most interestingly, you two take naps together on your days off sometimes, nothing sexual about it despite what Tara and her Tarot cards believe. Sure, there might have been questionable situations, but it was all innocent in the end. It's often a short nap in the afternoon after running errands or having lunch together. It's one of those days that you finally build the courage to bring up what's been on your mind for a while now. 

It's late when it happens.

The skyscraper lights begin to glow through your balcony door, blinking out the gentle shimmering of distant stars that managed to cut through the trickling rain earlier in the evening. It’s a little disappointing to lose sight of the stars. They’d become a comfort for you in the time you’ve spent with your friend. You'd never given them much thought before then.

The downpour of rain splattering against the glass panels of the balcony makes the city lights milkier to your sight and the steady dripping of water returns some form of calmness when paired with your neighbor’s breathing next to you.

It’s deep and warm, ushering you towards the world of dreams. Everything about Xavier is like a white noise or a desperately needed hug, which is why you’re curled up at his side in this bed that’s too small for the both of you. You didn’t care, and you suspected Xavier didn’t either.

He didn’t mention the smallness of the bed when you offered to take a nap together nor when your head found the bulge of his bicep to use as your pillow. You didn’t give him time to respond when one of your hands slid across his lean chest, reaching for his always subtle pulse. You find the lazy pattering easy to count while the heat in the sheets become much more apparent when you feel the weight of his touch cradle that very same hand to his chest as if promising every beat to you.

Everything about the situation causes your eyes to flutter with tiredness, but you want to savor this moment a little longer. In case this is all an elaborate dream. You hope to death it’s not. So, you force your eyes to remain open, releasing a soft sigh instead as you cuddle into his arm.

Too soon, you feel Xavier slipping further away from you.

You don’t want him to go yet. More than ever, a force inside you needs him to stay tonight, and you lock your grip on the white knit shirt he wears. You tug him back over to you to close this unbearable distance he made. The few little inches he moved were more than enough to cause your heart to yearn.

“Not yet,” you want to plead but make it a soft demand. “I just found the perfect spot.” You muffle the neediness of your requests into his skin, though your head is afraid that somehow he’ll feel it.

“You always use that excuse.”

“And it’s always true. So, no moving,” you order.

Xavier gives in so wonderfully quickly. Your heart is rapidly firing when the corners of his lips turn into his usual waif-like smile. You fail at hiding your satisfaction at his surrender, pressing more of your weight against him, in a sure sign to him that you have no intention of letting him escape any time soon.

“I take this to mean you’re finally admitting it’s your fault we didn’t do our errands today?”

“I never said that,” you disagree half-heartedly. “And don't pretend like you weren't the one who kept saying he didn't feel like getting up earlier.”

“And now that I do, you won’t let me up. Am I right? Why’s that?”

There’s a beat skipping in your chest when he asks. His tone is light and open, easy to treat as a teasing joke but also firm enough to be taken seriously. That was always your trouble with him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking and when he was serious. Xavier is hard to understand sometimes, sometimes vague and sometimes very straightforward in his words; and lately, you think he’s consistently more hot than cold towards you ever since the first time you've slept together.

You like to think this development is a good thing. People who knew you always said you worked a little too hard, a little too observant, overly energetic despite your fragile heart; but with Xavier, you could relax. Moments like these: when his arm was around you and when his breath was at the side of your neck, the soft words he speaks in his sleep dancing in your mind, were the moments when patrolling for wanderers and every loss in your life from your family to your problematic heart dissipated into the back of your mind for a few hours.

It isn’t an exaggeration to believe his influence must have been the cause, at least when it comes to this. But your influence is seeping into him as well. Given his loner habits when you first met and his frequent disappearing acts, you never pictured him as one to be so sweet and considerate and adorably charming in a way.

However, you can’t tell him that you enjoy…sleeping with him. You have a strong feeling he already knows how much you like him. Or, you’d like to think he does with the way he constantly seems to hint at it. He can make you flustered with a few words and easily leave you guessing if you’re reading too much into his actions or if he’s really that good at baiting you. It could also be a little of column A and a little of column B, which somehow makes you more antsy around him. Like how you feel now when his eyes meet yours.

“It’s supposed to be cold tonight,” you whisper. It’s a poor excuse but the only one you can use to defend yourself. “They say the best way to fend off the chill is body heat. Who better for that task than you, dear partner?”

“Many things, I assume, a portable heater comes to mind,” he says, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s slyly teasing you behind that naive tone.

“Right, right, those things,” you grumble causing him to laugh as you hide your bashful face against him. “So loud, you know?”

“Are they? Alright, then five more minutes should be doable,” he says in the same low voice that makes your insides boil before his arm lowers to curl around your back. “Although, you’re too comfortable.”

His ears tinge in a lovely rose-colored blush, and you shudder when he finally fails to maintain eye contact and quickly scans your body. It’s slow enough for you to catch though. It makes your chest tight as you watch his quiet inhale and the murky flash of want dye his eyes shades darker before they fade back into clear pools of blue, big and pleading as he studies your face. 

“I might end up falling asleep here.”

It’s a warning, to make you think about the meaning of your actions, you think. However, this isn’t the first time this has happened nor the first time you spent a rainy day inside with each other; the kitchen counter lined with empty take-out trays, with his body heat radiating into you while a long-forgotten movie plays in the background.

It’ll continue like that until one of you is finally coherent enough after drowsy naps to try to piece together who fell asleep on whom first or who is making the other too hot. Neither of you wants to accept the fault without a lot of bickering; that’s if Xavier doesn’t fall back asleep mid-debate.

Even this time, you’re not sure who managed to drift off to sleep first earlier but neither of you tried to get up, let alone leave the house, until now. Ah, but it was your idea to use the bed this time, wasn’t it?

But it was his choice to agree.

Even now, he looks very peaceful nestled with you, and he still whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, which reminds you of the first time you slept together and he dreamt about wanting you to come home with him.

When you’re like this, you want the same thing. You want him to come home…with you.

“Xavier?” you ask quietly. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep already like he said. Carefully, you free your hand from his hold, slide it up his chest, and begin to draw smooth circles with your pointer finger once you reach his cheek. There’s a soft response from him, barely a moan but it’s enough to know he’s not out of it yet, at least not completely. “I’ve been thinking.”

The air is suddenly stifling when he engulfs the top of your hand with his own, holding it tighter as if he’s upset that you moved it out of his grasp in the first place, but it’s not the case as he affectionately seals your palm against his cheek.

“About what?”

The look he gives you makes it hard not to stumble over your thoughts like a schoolgirl despite being very much an adult.

“Wouldn’t…” You pause to steady your voice; you have to force yourself to not avoid his gaze, but each small movement makes your throat tighten. There’s no doubt you have his full attention now, at least what little remains of it. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we…move in together?”

You’re not sure where the courage to ask him a question like that comes from when you’re too unsure to even confess or to ask what the two of you even are but you didn’t have this fear of rejection until now.

“How would it be easier?”

“Well,” you start, unsure why you’re surprised that he’d want a reason. “We’re always visiting one another, and you made me your representative at the tenant meetings, so everyone already treats us like we’re a combined unit. It would also save me trips on watering your plants when you’re away or when you want to come over to eat. We could save money. Money that could be spent at the arcade or on more hot pot.”

There’s a quiet atmosphere that makes you too uneasy. The thrumming of rain grows louder in it along with the beating in your chest that’s telling you that this was stupid. Is it possible to be drunk on endorphins? Perhaps that’s what gave you the idea to ask something so foolish; you’d have to get Zayne to examine your empty head and tell you.

But then, Xavier smiles.

“Those are good reasons especially more hot pot, and I’m sure all the plushies would feel better if they shared a home again.”

Your anxiety lessens and you share in his smile. Luckily, you managed not to ruin everything it looks like.

“But.” Slowly, the inklings of self-doubt begin to return. A but. There’s always one of those. You should’ve expected as much. “If we move in together then we wouldn’t really be “neighbors” anymore.”

“Oh, um—” You become staggered by his observation, even more so when he interlocks your fingers. It’s another time when you’re not entirely sure if he’s being serious or not. His innocent puppy-eyed expression doesn’t help you differentiate either. It always makes your mind wander to more inappropriate topics—like the fact Xavier told you he didn’t believe that other neighbors acted like you two. The memory nearly makes you squirm. In this position, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but that delicate foundation cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt.

“Do roommates sleep together too?”

There’s a shine of amusement that makes his face glow and heat claw higher up your neck. You know the question should be taken literally but when he words it like that…with that warm implicative inflection to his voice, you’re unable to think properly, and you realize that maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the benefit of the doubt this time.

“I’m sure some do,” you answer with some courage, “I’d imagine at least once a week.”

“I believe we’re up to twice a week now. So, if we become roommates, I think we have to do it at least that many times, otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to have to reject your offer.”

“Two times?” you repeat, silently begging the flapping of butterflies in your stomach to calm down at the suggestion, at the implication that he enjoys sleeping with you just as much as you do with him. It makes this strong emotion in your chest blossom even further. “I can manage that.”

“Additional proposal,” he interrupts suddenly. “Perhaps, three times? I can even throw in a pair of those fuzzy socks that I can never manage to find after you visit,” he adds coyly.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re around your apartment somewhere,” you quickly respond before releasing the buildup of nervous air in your lungs. You smile. “Proposal accepted. Shared naps three times a week minimum.”

“In that case,” he breathes in softly, and he slips his hand down releasing all your fingers except for your pinky that he wraps into his own. “I think I would like to be your roommate.”

Inside, there’s unadulterated joy beginning to flood you. You know that this agreement will require a more in-depth discussion that Xavier will probably try to gloss over but this is enough for you right now.

“We should take tonight to practice for our move.”

Confused, you raise your eyebrows. “Practice?”

He nods.

“Sleeping together overnight. We did a few times before, well, only twice in the same bed, once in yours and once in mine,” he explains. You definitely have the clearest memory of that time, of bandaging his wounds, of cluelessly pinning him down shirtless on his bed before he turned the tables on you, and then—you remind yourself to resist going over the details, not with him this close to you. Somehow, Xavier is the one who looks the most insecure between the two of you. Finally, he whispers, “I haven’t forgotten even if it was a long time ago.”

His eyes are half-lidded, cloudy with thought. Something about him looks restrained and longing but it disappears when you finally swallow your swelling emotions and call out his name. There’s a twinkle of adoration that blows away whatever doubt there as he focuses on you again.

“I think about it when I have a hard time sleeping on overnight missions.” Xavier turns and slides his arm from under your head, choosing to lay on his side to face you. “It makes it a lot easier to rest in the hunting zones when you have good memories like that. So, it's nice to have a chance to make more."

“I don’t think I could fall asleep at all if I thought of something like that,” you admit, as close to an admission of your love for him as you could muster without mountains of alcohol. “I’d just think about how much I’d rather be home with them.”

“And now? Are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks huskily, and you have to fight not to keep staring at his lips and the dire need to kiss them as you breathe each other in. You reach out, touching his bare collar then instinctively searching for his slow pulse, counting it to calm yourself from the rush of adrenaline building in you.

You’re not even sure when you breathed out the “yes” that echoes softly from your mouth. His lips are so close to yours that you’re sure he could catch it in his breath if he wanted.

“How about I tell you a story to help you fall asleep?” He sees your hesitation and laughs under his breath. “I promise it’ll be much better than the last one.”

Accepting his offer, you agree to listen to him.

Xavier nods and gently swoops the back of his hand against your forehead and then your cheek before cupping it. There’s a gentle squeeze, and you think you understand why he likes it so much when you do it.

“Once, there was a beautiful queen and a knight,” he begins. “They lived together in a palace far away.”

“And they fall in love and live happily ever after?” you question, too busy in the full and fuzzy sensations filling your being to hold back.

“No, they were separated from each other for a long time,” Xavier corrects but his expression softens at the trickling concern building on your face. “Don’t worry. They meet again and become neighbors.”

“And then?”

“They become roommates,” he states matter-of-factly, which causes you to chuckle at him. You can’t even be bothered to care that he’s poking fun at you.

“Then, happily ever after?”

“I don’t know yet,” he answers, causing you to frown and your face to wrinkle with a sullen expression. His head tilts further into the plush of the pillow. “But you can help me figure out the ending.”

Feeling exhausted from the cathartic flow of emotions from him to you, you wiggle into him and throw your arm across his waist. “There’d probably be a lot of naps and stargazing involved,” you mumble before a tiny yawn.

“Sounds like a happy ending to me. It's good to finally see it,” he agrees, and you sigh when you feel a strong squeeze around your waist. “Although, you forgot to mention the part where the queen promises to not get out of bed without waking him this time.”

You giggle. “She promises not to get up without her knight.”

Content, he hums. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"

"I think so after a story like that," you confess, reaching out to brush his hair back so you can see his eyes more clearly. "Then again, I always sleep good with you."

"You’ll sleep best when we're close, right?"

You gasp when he shifts on top of you. His lips briefly brush your forehead, by accident or not, you can’t tell as he pins you between himself and the bed. With a stutter, you call out his name yet he pays no heed as he nuzzles his head into your hair.

“Good night, roommate.”

“Xav-!” You pout when he instantly slumps against you. There’s no point trying to wake him up now that his five minutes of alertness have long expired.

Settling your chin against the top of his shoulder, you hook your arms under his to hug him against your chest. Your forearms settle at his mid-back as you hold him close so you can gently brush the ends of his hair.

When you ultimately decide to give in minutes after him, it’s to the warmth of his weight on top of you, the tickle of his hair against your forehead, and the increased pulsing of his heart. Xavier was right, this is too comfortable. Letting your eyes fall close, you wonder if three times a week would really be enough to satisfy this strangely familiar craving. You only wish that the two of you could meet in your dreams like he says, but it's enough knowing you'll have each other in the morning and then on.

“…Good night, Xavier. Sweet dreams,” you whisper before you too give into sleep’s spell.

[aemondwhoresworld]

THE LORD’S REDEMPTION

pairing: benjicot blackwood x reader

summary: in the intricate world of Westeros, alliances are forged and broken through marriages arranged for political gain. lady y/n of house y/l/n finds herself wed to benjicot blackwood, lord of raventree hall, a union intended to strengthen ties between their noble houses. although the marriage was one of duty, y/n begins to believe that genuine affection and love are blossoming between them, especially after the birth of their first daughter. however, her world is shattered when she discovers benjicot in the arms of his childhood friend, a betrayal that cuts deep. but in the end, love and repentance prove stronger, as benjicot, on his knees, begs for her forgiveness, vowing to honor and cherish her for the rest of their days. | word count: 2,6k

warning: english is not my first language. mention of cheating, gavebirth, infidelity, angst to fluff, etc

my first benji fic, currently there is no taglist for benji, thanks my bf to co-write this with me (almost half of the fic)

The halls of Raventree Hall were alive with the sound of celebration. The feast had been lavish, the guests numerous, and the union of House Y/L/N and House Blackwood had been met with cheers and well-wishes from all who attended. But as the night wore on, and the newlywed couple retired to their chambers, the reality of their marriage settled in.

Lady Y/N stood by the window, looking out into the darkened forest that surrounded her new home. The trees of the Blackwood lands were ancient, their branches gnarled and twisted like the old stories of the Children of the Forest. She had heard the tales as a child, but now, in this strange new place, those stories felt more real than ever.

Benjicot Blackwood, her husband, was a man of few words. He had been courteous and respectful, as expected of a lord, but there had been little warmth between them. Their marriage was one of duty, an alliance between two noble houses, and Y/N knew that well. Still, there was a small part of her that longed for something more, a connection that went beyond the cold formality of politics.

As she stood lost in thought, Benjicot approached her. “It’s a beautiful night,” he said, his voice soft, as if he were afraid to break the quiet. “The stars are brighter here than in other parts of the realm.”

Y/N turned to him, surprised by the comment. “They are,” she agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “It reminds me of home.”

Benjicot nodded, his gaze following hers out the window. “I know this is not the life you envisioned,” he began, hesitating slightly. “But I hope, in time, you’ll find happiness here.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to plant a seed of hope in her heart. “I hope so too, my lord,” she replied, her voice gentle.

That night, as they lay side by side in the large bed, Y/N felt the weight of his presence beside her. The sheets were cold at first, but as they lay in silence, she felt his hand slowly, hesitantly, reach for hers. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. She squeezed his hand in return, a silent acknowledgment that perhaps, just perhaps, they could make this marriage into something more than just an arrangement.

Months passed, and the seasons changed. Y/N and Benjicot fell into a comfortable rhythm, learning to navigate their roles as husband and wife. There were moments of shared laughter, quiet conversations by the fire, and even a few stolen kisses that felt more natural with time. It wasn’t the passionate love story Y/N had once dreamed of, but it was something real, something she could build upon.

When Y/N discovered she was with child, the news was met with joy throughout Raventree Hall. The Blackwood line would continue, and the bond between House Y/L/N and House Blackwood was now cemented by blood. The pregnancy brought a new closeness between Y/N and Benjicot. He was attentive, always ensuring she was comfortable, and took great care in preparing for the arrival of their child.

The day their daughter was born, Y/N’s heart swelled with love as she held the tiny bundle in her arms. The babe had her mother’s eyes and her father’s dark hair, a perfect blend of the two houses. Benjicot stood beside the bed, watching in awe as Y/N cradled their daughter.

“Would you like to hold her?” Y/N asked, looking up at him with a soft smile.

Benjicot hesitated for a moment, as if afraid he might harm the delicate creature in his wife’s arms. But when Y/N gently placed the baby in his hands, his fear melted away. As he gazed down at his daughter, his eyes softened, and Y/N saw something in him she hadn’t seen before—love, pure and unguarded.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve given me the greatest gift, Y/N.”

In that moment, Y/N felt closer to him than ever before. As she watched him hold their daughter, she allowed herself to believe that this marriage, once forged out of duty, had grown into something much deeper. Perhaps they could be happy after all.

But happiness in Westeros was often fleeting.

It was a stormy night when Y/N’s world came crashing down. She had awoken in the middle of the night to find the bed empty beside her. The sheets were cold, and the silence of the room was deafening. Worry gnawed at her as she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and ventured out into the darkened corridors of Raventree Hall.

She searched for Benjicot, her heart pounding with every step. When she finally found him, it was as if the ground had been ripped out from under her.

There, in a secluded alcove near the godswood, stood Benjicot, his arms wrapped around a woman Y/N recognized all too well—Lysa Rivers, his childhood friend. The two of them were locked in a passionate embrace, their lips pressed together in a kiss that spoke of old, unresolved feelings.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She felt as if a knife had been plunged into her chest, the pain sharp and unrelenting. This was the man she had come to love, the father of her child, and he was betraying her in the most unforgivable way.

Before she knew it, she was running, fleeing the scene of her heartbreak. The rain poured down in torrents, drenching her as she ran back to her chambers, but she didn’t care. The physical cold was nothing compared to the icy numbness that had settled in her heart.

When Benjicot finally returned to their chambers, he found Y/N standing by the window, her back to him. The tension in the room was palpable, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice laced with guilt. “Please, let me explain.”

She turned to face him, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “Explain? What is there to explain, Benjicot? I saw you! I saw you with her!” Her voice cracked, the pain evident in every word.

Benjicot looked stricken, as if her words had wounded him. “It was a mistake, a moment of weakness—”

“A mistake?” Y/N’s voice rose in disbelief. “You betrayed me, Benjicot! You betrayed our marriage, our family!” She took a step toward him, her hands trembling. “I thought…I thought you loved me. I thought we had built something real.”

“I do love you,” Benjicot said desperately, reaching for her, but she stepped back, out of his reach. “I’ve loved you since the day you placed our daughter in my arms. But Lysa…she was my past, Y/N. She was someone I cared for long before we were married. When I saw her tonight, old feelings resurfaced, and I… I lost control. But it meant nothing, I swear it.”

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t betray someone you love, Benjicot. You don’t risk everything for a fleeting moment with someone else.”

The hurt in her voice cut him deeply, and he sank to his knees before her, his head bowed in shame. “Please, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I know I’ve wronged you in the worst way possible. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m begging you—don’t leave me. Don’t take our daughter away from me. I will do anything, anything to make this right.”

Y/N looked down at him, her heart torn. The man before her was not the strong, confident lord she had married, but a broken man, consumed by regret. Part of her wanted to push him away, to let him suffer for the pain he had caused her. But another part of her, the part that still loved him despite everything, couldn’t bear to see him like this.

“Benjicot,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive you for this. The pain you’ve caused me… it’s more than I can bear. But I won’t make any decisions tonight. I need time—to think, to heal. For now, I’ll stay, for our daughter’s sake. But know this—you will have to work harder than you ever have before to earn back my trust.”

Benjicot nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. “I will, Y/N. I swear to you, I will spend every day proving to you that you are the only woman I love, the only one I will ever love.”

The days that followed were filled with an uneasy quiet. Benjicot was true to his word—he devoted himself to Y/N and their daughter, never straying far from her side. He sought to make amends not with grand gestures, but with small, consistent acts of kindness and care. He listened to her, respected her space, and showed her in every way he could that she was his priority.

Y/N watched him carefully, her heart still guarded. The pain of his betrayal lingered, a sharp reminder of the trust that had been shattered. Yet, as the days turned into weeks, she couldn't deny the change in him. Benjicot seemed different, as if the weight of his guilt had transformed him. He was more attentive, more present than he had ever been before, and she could see the earnestness in his every action.

One evening, as autumn began to deepen, Y/N sat in their chambers, her daughter playing on a woven rug near the hearth. The little girl babbled happily, her tiny hands grasping at the colorful wooden toys Benjicot had carved himself. Y/N found herself smiling despite the turmoil in her heart. Her daughter’s laughter was a balm to her soul, a reminder that there was still good in her life, something pure and untainted.

Benjicot entered the room quietly, as he often did these days, as if he were afraid to disturb the fragile peace between them. He knelt beside their daughter, picking up one of the toys and joining her in play. Y/N watched them, her heart softening as she saw the love in his eyes, the way he doted on their child with such tenderness.

After a while, Benjicot looked up at Y/N, his expression tentative. "Would you walk with me in the godswood?" he asked, his voice soft, almost pleading.

Y/N hesitated. The godswood had always been a place of solace for her, a place where she could think and find peace. But it was also the place where she had first seen him with Lysa, the place where her heart had been broken. Still, she nodded. "Alright," she agreed, rising from her seat.

They walked in silence at first, the cool evening air rustling the leaves overhead. The old weirwood tree stood at the heart of the godswood, its red leaves vibrant against the darkening sky. Y/N had always found comfort here, under the watchful eyes of the old gods, but tonight she felt a sense of trepidation.

Benjicot stopped beneath the weirwood, turning to face her. His expression was earnest, his eyes full of remorse. "Y/N," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I've been doing a lot of thinking these past weeks. I've thought about what I did, how I betrayed you, and I've realized just how much I stand to lose. I was a fool, blinded by the past, and in doing so, I risked everything we have. I can never take back what I did, and I will live with that regret for the rest of my life."

He took a deep breath, stepping closer to her. "But I want you to know that I am committed to earning back your trust. I love you, Y/N. I love our daughter, and I love the life we've built together. I don't expect you to forgive me easily, and I don't expect things to go back to the way they were overnight. But I will keep trying, every day, to prove to you that you are the only woman in my heart, the only woman I will ever want by my side."

Y/N listened to his words, her emotions swirling. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the desperation in his voice. He was baring his soul to her, laying himself at her mercy, and for the first time since that fateful night, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way forward.

"Benjicot," she said, her voice soft but steady, "what you did hurt me more than I can put into words. It felt like everything we had built together, everything I thought we had, was just… shattered. But I can see how much you regret it, and I can see how hard you're trying to make amends. I won't lie to you—it's going to take time for me to heal, and it's going to take time for me to trust you again. But I don't want to throw away what we have, either. I want to believe that we can rebuild, that we can find a way back to each other."

Benjicot’s eyes filled with tears, and he took her hands in his, holding them as if they were the most precious thing in the world. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise you, Y/N, I will spend the rest of my life proving that you made the right choice."

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy but hopeful. "Then let's take it one day at a time," she said softly. "Let's start again, and see where this road takes us."

In the days and weeks that followed, Y/N and Benjicot began the slow process of rebuilding their relationship. It wasn’t easy—there were moments of doubt, of lingering pain that resurfaced when Y/N least expected it. But each time, Benjicot was there, patient and understanding, never pushing her but always ready to support her when she needed it.

They spent more time together, taking long walks in the godswood, sharing meals, and talking late into the night. Benjicot opened up to her in ways he never had before, sharing stories from his childhood, his fears, and his hopes for the future. Y/N found herself doing the same, and gradually, the walls she had built around her heart began to crumble.

One evening, as they sat together by the hearth, their daughter asleep in her cradle, Benjicot took Y/N’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I love you," he whispered, his eyes full of the sincerity that had come to define him since that night. "I know I’ve said it before, but I want you to know that it’s true. You and our daughter mean everything to me."

Y/N looked into his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a sense of peace. "I love you too," she replied, her voice soft but full of conviction. "It’s going to take time, but I believe in us. I believe that we can build something even stronger than before."

Benjicot smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and warmed her heart. "Together, we can do anything," he said, and in that moment, Y/N knew it to be true.

Their journey wasn’t over—there were still challenges to face, and scars that would take time to heal. But as they held each other close, the flickering firelight casting a warm glow over them, Y/N felt a sense of hope for the future. They had been through darkness, but now they were stepping into the light, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came their way.

And in the end, that was what mattered most—their love, their commitment to each other, and the promise of a new beginning.

[lila-lou]

✨Paris - Pt. 3✨

Summary: The season 5 premiere of The Boys in Paris, which you were so excited about, became a dreaded event when you found out your difficult co-star Jensen Ackles would be there. Despite your best efforts to avoid him, Jensen's presence was present even at the post-premiere celebration. A few drinks too many led to a troubled night in your hotel room that left you torn and doubtful about your feelings.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut(slightly), language, cheating, fluff

Word Count: 6581

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The weeks passed, and no matter how hard you tried to push him out of your mind, Jensen’s presence lingered like a shadow. The guilt of what had transpired between you two gnawed at your conscience relentlessly. You hadn’t told Antony the truth about what happened with Jensen, but the weight of your secret made it impossible to look him in the eyes.

A week before filming was set to begin again, you finally broke up with Antony. The guilt and self-loathing had become unbearable, and every moment with him felt like a lie you couldn’t continue living. The look of hurt and confusion in his eyes as you ended things haunted you, adding another layer of regret to your already heavy heart.

You hated yourself for it. Every time you thought of Antony, you felt a wave of nausea and self-disgust. But amidst the turmoil, you couldn’t deny the growing realization that you were falling in love with Jensen. It was a painful and unwelcome truth, made even more complicated by your decision to distance yourself from him.

As the first day of filming approached, you tried to steel yourself for the inevitable encounter. You knew you’d have to see Jensen, work with him, and maintain a professional facade despite the emotions swirling inside you.

The day finally arrived, and you walked onto the set with a sense of dread. The familiar surroundings did little to calm your nerves as you prepared for the day’s scenes.

As you sat down in your chair, preparing for the day’s scenes, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The first scene was with both Antony and Jensen, and the tension was palpable. You felt another wave of nausea hit you, your stomach churning with guilt and anxiety.

Without a word, both Antony and Jensen sat down on either side of you. The atmosphere was thick with unresolved emotions, and you could feel their eyes on you, each for different reasons. Just then, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You bolted from your chair and stormed to the nearest toilet, barely making it before you started vomiting.

Back on set, Jensen watched you run off, his heart clenching painfully at the sight of your distress. But he masked his concern perfectly, maintaining his usual indifferent facade. “What’s up with her?”, he asked, playing dumb.

Antony, who had been trying to hold back his emotions, bit his tongue. His hurt had turned into a toxic mix of disappointment and anger over the past few days. “Don’t know, don’t care”, he grumbled, his voice tight. “She dumped me”.

Jensen was more than surprised by that revelation. In the back of his mind, he saw a tiny, tiny chance to maybe finally shoot his shot with you. Ever since that night, something had shifted in him. Initially, when you first met, he didn’t like you. He hated your easygoing nature and how everyone seemed to like you without you even trying. But what he hated most was that you didn’t give him the attention he was used to receiving from most other women.

As the scene was being prepared, Jensen’s thoughts kept drifting back to you. He couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope mixed with his guilt. Maybe now, with Antony out of the picture, he could finally explore the feelings that had been gnawing at him since that night in Paris.

“I’m sorry, man”, Jensen mumbled, glancing sideways at Antony.

Antony’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.

Just then, you returned to the set, your face pale and your movements stiff. You avoided looking at either of them, focusing instead on the script in your hand. The weight of their gazes was almost unbearable, but you steeled yourself, determined to get through the day.

The director called everyone to their places, and you took a deep breath, trying to push your personal turmoil aside. The scene was intense, with high emotions that you drew from your own pain and guilt. Antony’s anger was raw and palpable, adding an extra layer of realism to his performance. Jensen, too, channeled his mixed feelings into his role, creating a powerful and authentic dynamic on screen.

Between takes, you kept to yourself, finding a quiet corner to regroup. You felt Jensen’s presence nearby, but he didn’t approach you.

As it was lunchtime, you quickly made your way towards your trailer, hoping to find some solitude. But just as you reached the door, Jensen appeared behind you, gripping your wrist gently.

You snapped your wrist out of his grasp, your voice sharp. “Don’t touch me”.

Jensen quickly held up both hands in surrender, his expression earnest. “I’m sorry”, he said, his voice calm. “I just wanted to talk”.

You felt a mix of anger and exhaustion wash over you. “What do you want?”, you choked out, struggling to keep your emotions in check.

Jensen took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I heard you broke up with Antony. Is it true?”.

You looked away, the weight of his question making your chest tighten. “Yes”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t keep pretending. I hated myself for it”.

Jensen nodded slowly, processing your words. His expression was a mixture of concern and understanding, but you felt a surge of frustration bubble up inside you. You glared at him, your voice snapping with bitter sarcasm. “Go ahead, Jensen. Make all the fun you want about me. I know you must be loving this”.

He shook his head, his eyes softening as he took a step back, giving you more space. “That’s not what I want, Y/N”, he said quietly. “I never wanted to hurt you or make fun of you. I’m just trying to understand”.

Your anger flared again, a defensive shield against the vulnerability you felt. “Understand what? That I’m a terrible person? That I couldn’t even be honest with Antony until it was too late? You were right about me all along, Jensen. I’m a fucking mess”.

Jensen’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening to respond, but before he could get a word out, you stepped inside your trailer and slammed the door shut in his face. The loud bang echoed in the small space, and you leaned against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

You could hear Jensen’s muffled voice through the door, but you couldn’t make out the words. You didn’t want to. All you wanted was to escape the whirlwind of emotions that had been building inside you for weeks.

Inside the trailer, the silence was overwhelming. You sank to the floor, pressing your back against the door, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you. Tears streamed down your face, and you buried your head in your hands, trying to stifle the sobs that wracked your body.

For a few moments, you let yourself cry, allowing the pain and guilt to pour out. It felt like an eternity, but eventually, the tears slowed, and you were left with a dull, aching emptiness.

You stood up, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, and took a deep breath. You knew you couldn’t avoid Jensen forever, and you couldn’t keep running from your feelings. But for now, you needed space, and you needed time to figure out what to do next.

The rest of the lunch break passed in a haze. You didn’t eat, your appetite completely gone. Instead, you spent the time trying to regain some semblance of composure, knowing you still had to get through the rest of the day on set.

When you finally emerged from your trailer, Jensen was gone. You felt a mix of relief and disappointment, but you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand.

The afternoon’s filming was grueling, the emotional scenes taking their toll on you. Antony was distant and professional, his hurt and anger clear but controlled. Jensen was careful, his interactions with you restrained, but his concern was still evident in his eyes.

By the time the director called it a wrap for the day, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. You gathered your things quickly, eager to escape the set and find some solitude.

As you walked to your car, you felt a presence behind you. You turned to see Jensen, standing a few feet away, his expression a mixture of worry and determination.

“Y/N”, he called out softly, taking a hesitant step forward. “Can we please talk?”.

You whipped around, your frustration and exhaustion boiling over. “Don’t you get it, Jensen? I don’t want to talk!”, you yelled, your voice echoing in the parking lot. “Ever since you came into my fucking life, it’s been a mess!”.

Jensen flinched at your words, but he didn’t back down. “I know things have been complicated”, he began, trying to keep his voice calm, “but running away from this isn’t going to help either of us”.

“Complicated?”, you scoffed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “That’s an understatement! You’ve turned everything upside down. I can’t even think straight anymore!”.

Jensen took another step closer, his eyes pleading. “Y/N, I never meant for things to get this bad. But I can’t just stand by and watch you suffer. I care about you”.

“Stop saying that!”, you shouted, tears welling up in your eyes again. “Stop pretending like you care! Maybe for you, fucking me was all fun with your nice little arrangement with your wife, but for me, it screwed up everything! It destroyed my relationship with Antony. And all those twisted signals you gave me—first hating me, then sleeping with me, and now pretending to care—what kind of fucked-up game are you playing?”.

Jensen looked taken aback, his face pale. He took another step closer. “It’s not a game, Y/N. I know I’ve messed up, but I never meant to hurt you like this. My marriage… it’s complicated. It’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. And I’m not playing with you. I’m trying to be honest about how I feel”.

You shook your head, your anger flaring again. “Honest? You call this honest? You didn’t care about the consequences. You didn’t care about what would happen to me, to Antony, to anyone. Is your life so boring that you need to mess with other people’s lives now?”.

Jensen’s face hardened, a flash of anger crossing his features. “I know I’ve made mistakes, but don’t you dare say I don’t care. You have no idea what’s been going on in my head!".

His voice rose, the frustration and pain clear in his words. “You turned my fucking head, Y/N. Ever since that night in Paris, I can’t get you out of my mind. It’s like you’re in my head 24/7, and it’s driving me crazy. I tried to hate you because it was easier than admitting how I really felt, but I can’t do it anymore”.

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching. Antony had been on his way to his car, but he stopped short when he heard Jensen’s outburst. His face was a mask of shock and hurt, the realization of what had happened between you and Jensen clear in his eyes.

“Did you and Jensen…?”, Antony asked, his voice tight with emotion.

You turned to face him, your heart sinking. “Antony, I…”.

He shook his head, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment. “I thought you broke up with me because you needed time to figure things out. I never imagined it was because of him”.

Jensen stepped forward, his own anger giving way to regret. “Antony, I’m sorry. None of this was supposed to happen. It was just a stupid mistake”.

Antony looked between the two of you, his jaw clenched. “A mistake? Is that what you call it?”.

The weight of his words hit you hard, and you felt tears welling up again. “Antony, I never meant to hurt you. I was confused, and I didn’t handle things the way I should have”.

“I trusted you, Y/N. I thought we had something real… And you”, he turned to Jensen, his voice filled with anger, “I thought you were my fucking friend”.

Jensen bowed his head, his guilt evident. “I’m sorry, man. I messed up”.

Antony took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “I can’t fucking deal with this right now”.

He turned and walked away, leaving you and Jensen standing there in the silence of the parking lot. You felt a crushing sense of loss and guilt.

Jensen turned towards you, his mouth opening to say something, but you just shook your head, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t bear to hear any more. You quickly got into your car, slamming the door shut and driving away, leaving Jensen standing alone in the parking lot.

The drive home was a blur, your mind replaying the confrontation over and over. Once you reached your apartment, you barely managed to make it to your bed before collapsing into a heap of tears and self-loathing. The guilt and shame of your actions pressed down on you like a heavy weight, making it hard to breathe.

You spent the rest of the evening curled up in bed, hating yourself for what you did to Antony. But no matter how much you tried to focus on your regret, Jensen’s words kept echoing in your mind. “You turned my fucking head, Y/N… Ever since that night in Paris, I can’t get you out of my mind… I’m trying to be honest about how I feel”.

What did he mean by that? What were his true feelings? You couldn’t stop thinking about the intensity in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice. Was it possible that he genuinely cared about you? Or was he just trying to assuage his own guilt?

As the hours ticked by, you found it impossible to sleep. Jensen’s confession had thrown everything into disarray. Despite the pain and confusion, a part of you couldn’t deny that you had feelings for him. But those feelings were tangled up with anger, betrayal, and a deep sense of confusion.

You thought about how everything had started: the initial animosity, the unexpected night in Paris, the mixed signals and growing tension. It all seemed so surreal now. You had tried to hate him, to push him out of your mind, but it was clear that he had gotten under your skin in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

The next day, when you arrived on set, you looked like shit. Your eyes were puffy and red from a night of restless tossing and turning, and your skin was pale and drawn. The exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, making every step feel like a monumental effort.

As soon as you stepped onto the set, Kripke, noticed your disheveled appearance. “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?”, he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

You forced a weak smile, trying to brush off his worry. “Just didn’t sleep well”, you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Kripke frowned but nodded, respecting your privacy. “Alright, but if you need anything, let me know”.

You nodded and made your way to the makeup trailer, hoping to find a moment of solitude. Ironically, the first thing you saw upon entering was Jensen, sitting in one of the chairs, his stylist already working on him.

He glanced up as you walked in, his expression immediately softening with concern. “Y/N…”, he started, but you quickly looked away, not ready for another confrontation.

You took a seat in the chair next to his, trying to focus on the makeup artist who began working on your tired features. The silence between you and Jensen was thick with unspoken words, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you kept your gaze firmly on your reflection in the mirror.

The makeup artist worked diligently, trying to mask the evidence of your sleepless night. You were grateful for the silence, but the tension was palpable. Finally, Jensen spoke, his voice low and hesitant. “Did you get any rest at all?”.

You sighed, your eyes flicking to his reflection in the mirror. “Not really”, you admitted, your voice flat.

Jensen’s stylist finished up, and he stood, his eyes never leaving you. “Y/N, we need to talk. We can’t keep avoiding this”.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Not here, Jensen. Not now”.

He nodded, respecting your wishes but not backing down. “Alright. But soon”.

You gave a slight nod, turning your attention back to the makeup artist. As Jensen left the trailer, you felt a pang of something—regret, guilt, maybe even longing. The confusion of your feelings was overwhelming, and you knew you couldn’t continue like this.

The day’s filming was a blur, your exhaustion making it hard to concentrate. Antony was professional but distant, his interactions with you cold and detached. You could feel the weight of his disappointment, and it only added to your guilt.

During a break, you found a quiet corner on set and sat down, burying your face in your hands. The tears you had been holding back all day finally spilled over, and you let yourself cry, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

A few moments later, you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see Jensen, his expression one of deep concern. Without a word, he sat down next to you, offering silent support.

A few moments later, you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see Jensen, his expression one of deep concern. Without a word, he sat down next to you, offering silent support.

After a while, he spoke up, his voice gentle. “Do you love him?”.

You took a while to respond, continuing to sob quietly as you tried to sort through your tangled emotions. Finally, you shook your head, whispering, “I thought I did… he’s so kind and caring. And… I don’t know… maybe I had wished I would love him—I… I just don’t know anymore”.

Jensen reached out, hesitantly placing a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to be confused, Y/N. Feelings aren’t always straightforward”.

You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “But it’s not fair to him. I hurt him so much, and he didn’t deserve any of it. And you… I don’t even know what to think about you".

Jensen chuckled bitterly, running his palm over his face. “Yeah, I know this feeling”, he mumbled, the weight of his own emotions evident in his voice. He looked at you, his gaze intense and filled with a depth that made your heart ache. It was clear he felt the same about you, the unspoken connection between you both palpable.

“I’ve been trying to sort through my feelings too”, he admitted, his voice softer now. “It’s been a mess, and I know I’ve made things harder for you. But- I ldon´t hate you. I-".

You met his gaze, your heart pounding. “Jensen, I don’t know if I can handle this. Everything is so complicated. I don’t even know where to start”.

He nodded, his expression earnest. “I get it. And I’m not asking for you to make any decisions right now. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. We can take things one step at a time, figure it out together”.

The sincerity in his voice gave you a glimmer of hope, but the fear and confusion still lingered. “I appreciate that, Jensen. But I need time to process everything, to figure out what I really want”.

“I understand”, he said, his hand still gently resting on your shoulder. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk”.

You nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension.

As you sat there together, the silence between you was no longer filled with tension but with a tentative understanding. It wasn’t a resolution, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

Two weeks passed, and true to his word, Jensen gave you the space you had asked for. You spoke only when necessary for your job, maintaining a professional distance. The tension between you still existed, but it was bearable, and you appreciated his respect for your boundaries.

Today was different, though. Today was the first spicy scene between your character and Jensen’s. It was a significant moment in the show, and a few of your colleagues had gathered to witness it, adding to your nerves. The weight of the scene and the unresolved emotions between you and Jensen made the situation even more daunting.

As you sat in your trailer, trying to steady your breathing and mentally prepare for the scene, there was a knock at the door. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing instinctively who it was. You took a deep breath and opened the door to find Jensen standing there, his expression serious but kind.

“Hey”, he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of concern and determination. “I just wanted to check on you before we start. I know this isn’t easy for you”.

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands.

“I’m really nervous", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his expression gentle and reassuring. “I get that. It’s a vulnerable position to be in".

You looked up at him, meeting his steady gaze. “It’s just… with everything that’s happened, it feels even more complicated”.

Jensen nodded, understanding. “I know. But we’re professionals, and we can separate our personal feelings from the work we need to do. You’re an amazing actress, Y/N, and I trust you completely. Trust me too, okay?”.

You took a deep breath, feeling slightly more at ease. “Okay. Thanks, Jensen”.

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with sincerity. “Hey, if it helps, just remember that I’ve seen you in way more intimate positions and a lot more of your body”, he joked lightly, trying to ease the tension.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Yeah, I guess you have a point”.

Jensen’s smile widened, the teasing glint in his eyes reassuring. “We’ve got this. Let’s go out there and do what we do best”.

You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, and together, you headed to the set.

As you walked, the gravity of the upcoming scene weighed on you. This was an intimate moment that would require vulnerability and trust—both in your acting partner and in yourself. The set was bustling with activity, crew members adjusting lights and cameras, the director giving last-minute instructions. You could feel the eyes of your colleagues on you, but you focused on Jensen’s presence beside you, grounding you.

Once you reached your mark, the assistant director called for quiet on set. The chatter ceased, and an expectant hush fell over the room. You slipped off your coat, handing it to a wardrobe assistant, and stood in your designated spot. You were almost completely exposed, with only the small patch covering your intimate area. The cool air brushed against your skin, and you shivered slightly, both from the temperature and the anticipation.

Jensen took his place opposite you, his eyes locking onto yours. The intensity in his gaze was palpable. The director stepped forward, giving you both a few final notes on the scene’s emotional beats and physical choreography. You nodded, absorbing his words, and took another deep breath.

“Alright, everyone. Positions!”, the director called out, his voice echoing through the set. The clapperboard snapped shut, signaling the start of the scene. “And… action!”.

You felt the shift immediately as you slipped into character. The world around you faded, leaving just you and Jensen in a bubble of shared emotion. The script had called for a charged moment of intimacy, where your characters finally gave in to their long-simmering attraction. It was a pivotal scene, and you needed to convey every nuance of longing, vulnerability, and desire.

Jensen’s character, Soldier Boy, stepped closer. His hands found your shoulders, his grip firm but not painful, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You looked up at him, your character’s defiance mixed with vulnerability. “I needed you”.

The line hung in the air, the weight of it settling between you. Soldier Boy’s expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost tender crossing his face before he tightened his grip, pulling you closer.

“Need me?”, he repeated, his voice a rough whisper. “You don’t even know what you’re fucking asking for”.

With a swift movement, he pushed you against the wall, his body pressing into yours. The heat of him was overwhelming, and you could feel the hard lines of his muscles against your bare skin. His hands roamed your sides, exploring the curve of your waist and hips with a possessive urgency.

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Show me”, you challenged, your voice breathless but resolute. “Show me what I’ve been missing”.

Soldier Boy’s eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You asked for it”, he growled before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. The kiss was fierce and demanding, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored the desperation of your characters. His hands slid up your sides, fingers tracing the outline of your ribs before he cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

The sensation was electric, your body arching into his touch as a moan escaped your lips. The script had called for a heated moment, and the intensity of Jensen’s touch made it easy to lose yourself in the scene. You responded with equal fervor, your hands sliding under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his chest and the warmth of his skin.

Soldier Boy broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. “You think you can handle this?”, he murmured, his voice a mix of mockery and desire. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs and lifting you effortlessly, pressing you harder against the wall.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, the patch between your legs doing little to shield you from the heat and hardness of him. “I can handle more than you think”, you whispered back, your voice filled with both challenge and invitation.

He growled in response, his hands gripped your hips, pulling you tighter against him, the friction between you driving you both to the brink.

The dialogue continued, raw and intense, each line delivered with a mix of passion and desperation that made the scene feel achingly real. “I’ve wanted this for so long”, you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me”.

Soldier Boy’s eyes met yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea”, he replied, his voice rough and ragged. “And I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name”.

Soldier Boy pulled down his pants, revealing the protective sock Jensen wore to maintain some modesty. The intention behind the scene was to be intense, and the physicality between you needed to reflect that raw, primal energy. Jensen’s erection was a surprise, a real-world complication in an otherwise carefully choreographed moment.

As he, pressed closer, his hands gripping your hips with a fierce possessiveness. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and the scripted intensity began to blur with reality.

“You’re going to beg for me”, Soldier Boy growled, his voice a rough whisper. He adjusted his position, his hands guiding you to the exact angle needed. With a swift, practiced movement, he simulated thrusting into you, the action almost too real in its intensity. The protective patches between you both did little to dampen the force of the movement, and the friction sent a shockwave of sensation through your body.

Your legs tightened around his waist, your nails digging into his shoulders as you held on. The raw energy of the scene was electrifying, each motion building the tension to a fever pitch. You gasped, letting out a moan that was both part of the character and an involuntary response to the real heat between you.

“Fuck, Soldier Boy”, you whispered, the line delivered with a mix of challenge and submission. The intensity in Jensen’s eyes never wavered, and he pushed the scene further, his movements precise and powerful.

The scripted lines continued, blending with the real emotions simmering beneath the surface. “You like that?”, Soldier Boy taunted, his breath hot against your neck. His hips thrust again, the action deliberate and commanding.

“Yes”, you moaned, your voice breathless and filled with a mix of defiance and desire.

The choreography called for a series of movements that simulated a relentless pace, each thrust driving the characters closer to their breaking points. The physicality was demanding, and you felt your body responding to the rhythm, the heat between you almost overwhelming.

Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he maintained the intensity. “You’re mine”, Soldier Boy growled, his voice low and possessive. The line was delivered with such conviction that it sent a shiver down your spine.

The scene continued, each movement choreographed to build the tension to a climax. The raw passion between your characters was palpable, the line between acting and reality blurring more and more in the heat of the moment. When the director finally called cut, the set erupted in applause, the crew impressed with the intensity and authenticity of the performance.

Jensen pulled back, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his eyes still dark with the lingering intensity of the scene. You felt the same, your body trembling from the physical and emotional exertion.

“Are you okay?”, Jensen asked, his voice gentle as he helped you regain your footing.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah, I’m okay. That was… intense”.

Jensen handed you your robe, quickly pulling it over you while doing the same with his own robe, trying his best to hide his erection. Just then, Kripke approached, followed by Karl.

“That was phenomenal, both of you”, Kripke praised, clapping his hands. “Exactly the kind of raw energy we needed”.

Karl chuckled, giving you both a nod of approval. “You two really brought it”.

Kripke turned towards Jensen, a playful glint in his eye. “Man, if I’d known you could rock those scenes like that, Dean would have laid so many more women”, he joked, referring to Jensen’s character on Supernatural.

Jensen laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, Dean didn’t exactly have the best luck with the ladies”.

Kripke continued to praise your performance. “Seriously, though, the chemistry was off the charts. This scene is going to be a standout moment in the season”.

You felt a mixture of pride and relief, the tension of the scene finally easing. Jensen gave you a warm smile, his eyes conveying a silent thank you for trusting him in such a vulnerable moment.

Karl clapped Jensen on the back, a broad grin on his face. “Better not let Danneel see this scene, mate”, he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jensen chuckled uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair again. “Yeah”, he replied, his tone light but with an edge of nervousness.

With that, the crew reset for the next angles. The following takes were more focused on specific details and reactions, allowing the intensity of the earlier scene to ease somewhat. The physical closeness was still required, but the emotional weight was lessened by the familiarity of repeating the same actions.

You and Jensen moved through the choreography with practiced precision, the initial nerves replaced by a professional rhythm. The pieces being filmed now were less intense, focusing on close-ups and specific shots that would be edited together later.

As you worked, you could feel the lingering effects of the earlier scene—the adrenaline, the heightened emotions—but there was also a sense of accomplishment. Despite everything, you had managed to deliver a powerful performance.

Between takes, you and Jensen exchanged occasional glances, a silent acknowledgment of the shared experience. There was still so much unresolved between you, but for now, you had found a way to work together, to channel your complex emotions into something meaningful for the show.

As the two of you finally wrapped up the shoot, you finished a brief conversation with the sound crew. You felt a sense of relief that the day’s intense filming was over, though the unresolved tension between you and Jensen still lingered in the back of your mind.

As you turned to head back to your trailer, you saw Jensen approaching, his expression serious yet kind.

“Hey”, he began, his voice gentle but firm. “Can we talk for a minute?”.

You hesitated, but you nodded, knowing that avoiding the conversation would only prolong the inevitable.

“Sure”, you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Shoot”.

Jensen glanced around, noticing the few lingering crew members. “Let’s go somewhere a bit more private”, he suggested.

You agreed, and the two of you walked towards Jensens trailer.

As you stepped into Jensen’s trailer, the atmosphere felt surprisingly intimate, a stark contrast to the bustling set outside. You took a seat on the couch, feeling the tension in the air. Jensen sat down opposite you.

For a moment, there was a heavy silence, both of you unsure where to begin. Finally, Jensen took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“Have you thought about everything?”, he asked, his voice soft but filled with the weight of the question.

You looked down at your hands, which were nervously twisting in your lap. “Yeah”, you replied quietly. “I’ve thought about it a lot”.

Jensen leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “And? What have you decided?”.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. “It’s still complicated, Jensen. I can’t just turn off my feelings, but I also can’t ignore what happened. I hurt Antony, and I’ve been hurting myself by not dealing with everything”.

He nodded, understanding. “I know, and I’m sorry for my part in all of this. I didn’t handle things the way I should have, and I regret that”.

You appreciated his honesty, but the confusion in your heart remained. “It’s not just about regrets. It’s about figuring out what we want moving forward. Can we really work together without letting our personal lives interfere? And if we do have feelings for each other, what does that mean for us?”.

Jensen leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve asked myself those same questions. I don’t have all the answers, but I do know that I care about you. And I want to find a way to make this work, both professionally and personally”.

He paused, his expression becoming more serious. “I need to tell you something, though. I actually filed for divorce a few weeks ago… Maybe that helps with your decision”.

You looked at him, surprised by the revelation. “But not because of what happened between us, right?”, you asked carefully, needing to understand the full context.

Jensen shook his head. “No, it’s not because of that. Things between Danneel and me have been strained for a long time. We’ve been trying to make it work for years, but it became clear that staying together wasn’t the best for either of us. What happened between us, it just made me realize that I couldn’t keep living a lie. I needed to be honest with myself and with her”.

You absorbed his words, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Jensen. Divorce is never easy”.

He nodded, a sad smile on his face. “It’s not, but sometimes it’s necessary. And I think it’s the right decision for both of us. But I don’t want you to feel like you were the cause of it. This was a long time coming”.

You felt a bit more at ease, but the weight of the situation still pressed on you. “Thank you for telling me. It helps to understand where you’re coming from”.

Jensen leaned forward again, his eyes earnest. “I want to move forward, but only if you’re comfortable with it. We can take it slow, one step at a time, and see where it goes. No pressure, no expectations. Just honesty and figuring things out together”.

You were quiet for a while, processing everything Jensen had just shared. The weight of the situation still hung heavy, but there was a sense of clarity in his words. You knew you had fallen for Jensen, harder than you’d ever expected. Now, without the complications of cheating or secrets, it was just you and Jensen.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “I care about you too, Jensen”, you admitted softly. “I never wanted things to get so messy, but they did. And now, we have a chance to do this right”.

Jensen’s eyes softened, a hint of relief washing over his face. “We do”, he agreed. “And I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make this work. One step at a time, like I said”.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One step at a time”.

The room felt lighter, the tension easing as you both allowed yourselves to consider a future together. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there would be challenges ahead, but the honesty between you was a solid foundation to build on.

Jensen reached out, taking your hand in his. His touch was warm and reassuring, grounding you in the moment. “Let’s start with dinner tonight”, he suggested. “Nothing fancy, just the two of us, somewhere quiet. We can talk more, get to know each other better outside of all this".

You felt a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves. “That sounds nice”. you replied, squeezing his hand gently.

Jensen smiled, his eyes twinkling with hope. “Great. It’s a date, then".

———————————

A/N: THAT IT.... THE END!

Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @spnfamily-j2 @cheynovak @anacarolinadasf @winchesterwild78

[the-owl-tree]

The final acts of Fallen Stars, an AU where Firestar gets the shit kicked out of him and is forced to flee the Clans with Sandstorm and Graystripe. Figured I'd just messily write out the frantic ramblings in my master doc once and for all lol

Very quick overviews ahead, just plot rather than details:

The story would've been split between three key povs and their respective groups: Firestar (graystripe, princess, and sandstorm), Cinderpelt (longtail and tawnypaw), and Cloudtail (brightheart, mistyfoot, stormpaw, and feathertail (stonefur would not live here) and each covering a different plot:

Firestar: The BloodClan plot (obviously).

Cinderpelt: Eyes into TigerClan when ThunderClan is eventually absorbed.

Cloudtail: Escaping TigerClan and our eyes into WindClan.

skipping a lot of the little details, this is just plot overview time

Firestar's Journey (The A Plot)

You can read act 1, the intermission, and act 2 here! I really enjoyed running the blog, but ultimately it was a story that involved way more work than an art and ask blog could get in a timely manner, especially while I was working and doing school.

Anyways, Act 2 ends with Princess being caught up and promising to take them to Vivi, who we learn is Violet - Barley's sister! Violet is essentially the exposition dump character for giving the reader insight into how BloodClan has changed for this AU.

They are not family hating Godless heathens, they are a functioning if rough society within the city that promises cats protection in exchange for payment (material, food, land, etc.). Violet and Barley left because they couldn't pay for the protection and Violet warns them that Firestar and his group will most likely be turned away if they offer nothing in exchange for help.

The group opts to make the journey anyways with Violet leading them to the city to meet Scourge.

Here we introduce more AU and lore elements with Firestar receiving strange cryptic dreams from passed loved ones, warning him of the Sun Star and seeing a massive cat made of dark storm clouds.

They make it to BloodClan and a lot of time is spent establishing BloodClan, their ways of life, some of the key cats in it like Bone, Brick, and Fury, and giving Firestar and co a chance to see life outside of the Clans.

They spend a few days there because Firestar keeps trying to appeal to Scourge through the lens of the Clans, citing honor and glory of battle and yada yada before eventually he realizes he needs to speak to Scourge on his terms.

I want a detail where Princess actually intervenes when Firestar accidentally offends them, showing she's got some knowledge of BloodClan etiquette.

Firestar eventually strikes a deal, promising materials and other goods in exchange for their help.

Scourge and Firestar have bonding time as Firestar starts recognizing how much of himself he had rejected to assimilate. Cue development here yada yada.

Firestar dreams of two brothers locked in battle, one who's face is obscured by storm and the other who's face is blindingly bright.

Cinderpelt's Clan (Plot B)

Cinderpelt is our view into ThunderClan who is reeling after Firestar's thorough thrashing. She and Whitestorm are acting as the defacto leaders with Whitestorm trying to corral the panicked Clan.

She would note how heavy it's been raining since the duel and also establish that ThunderClan is divided into three groups:

Waiting for the return of Firestar: Whitestorm (tentatively), Cinderpelt, Brackenfur, Frostfur, Brightheart Whitestorm hurry up and get your lives squad: Mousefur, Dustpelt, Goldenflower, Thornpaw, Smallear, One-Eye Undecided: Longtail, Bramblepaw, Fernpaw, Ashpaw, Willowpelt, Speckletail, Dappletail "Oh god what did i just witness": Tawnypaw

The Clan is split if the storm is because of Tigerstar killing Firestar or Firestar running from a duel.

Brightheart and Cloudtail have gone missing and Cinderpelt wonders if the two went to find Firestar, Sandstorm, and Graystripe.

During this period, Tigerstar and his lackies have been pressuring them to make the decision to join TigerClan and using their numbers to slowly dwindle ThunderClan territory as they struggle.

This is where I needed to plan more but eventually Whitestorm goes to talk it out with Tigerstar and uuuuhh dies! He gets got. Cinderpelt finds his body with his throat torn and Tigerstar tells a story of a fox, Runningnose wondering if its an omen as Whitestorm died similarly to how Firestar's throat was torn out (weak but you get what I'm going for, right?)

Eventually ThunderClan does get assimilated and we learn that Brightheart and Cloudtail were rounded up and imprisoned along with Mistyfoot, Stonefur, Featherpaw, and Stormfur.

I think this is the weakest plot line as I hadn't fudged the details entirely before starting. which is a very bad idea don't do that.

But essentially ThunderClan is outnumbered and a few members are actually into what Tigestar has to offer, Thornclaw in particular.

Very fuzzy here, just some build up for the execution. Stonefur still dies and Tigerstar calls upon Thornclaw to finish off Cloudtail, Brightheart intervenes but the two are outnumbered as Blackfoot and Darkstripe move to separate them.

Very fuzzy here but I want Brackenfur to intervene and he and Thornclaw die via mutually delivered wounds.

The prisoners escape!

At some point there would be the reveal that Tigerstar and Leopardstar had been working together for a while with the reveal that Leopardstar had poisoned Crookedstar to claim leadership. I had an idea of Brackenpaw being the one to see this in a flashback but too scared to speak up, hence why he wanted to intervene now in guilt for not saying anything before. But eh, weak.

Bramblepaw also grows closer to his father during this, setting up why he returns to train with him in TNP. Tawnypaw is waaaayy to freaked by seeing what her father did to even consider it lol

This whole section is weak and I'm not too attached to it? Too jumbled, needed more time to bake. It reeks of first draft.

The rest of this story would be Cinderpelt and Longtail working to gain allies within the captured Clans of TigerClan and turning the tide from within.

Cloudtail's Escape (Plot C)

The shortest of the stories. The prisoners escape and eventually head to the moors where WindClan takes them in.

We learn that Tallstar is critically wounded and hasn't woken up, Mudclaw has been assuming control along with the help of Onewhisker.

General chill time before wuh-oh the scheduled TigerClan attack.

Prisoners are forced to escape and make their way to the barn where Barley tells them of BloodClan, though says he can't promise they'll help them.

Cloudtail and co go where they eventually meet Sasha, who has escaped the forest as well. She guides them to BloodClan where Cloudtail and Firestar's group reunite.

The Big Battle

So by this time Firestar has established allies with BloodClan, Cinderpelt and Longtail are turning the tides in TigerClan, and Cloudtail's caught Firestar up to speed on what's going on.

They aim for the next gathering to strike.

Firestar has another dream...this one less cryptic.

This would've been set up before, obviously, but Firestar would remember the story told to him by Bluestar of an angry spirit made of storm clouds. The reason that fighting was forbidden was because the spirit was summoned by violence at fourtrees, because in the past it had tried to destroy the Clans there. It was the Sky Star that destroyed the spirit and preserved the Clans for moons to come, now watching them with his eye in the sky to ensure the Clans lived on for generations.

In his dream he meets the massive spirit of storm who slowly shrinks and shrinks until he is face to face with a cat much like him: Gray Wing the Fool, a cat who thought he could stop the growing violence of the Clans and became the Dark Forest itself as punishment.

Firestar realizes the cat he saw stealing the moon that gathering was Gray Wing and the two talk. Firestar sees a cat who wanted to fight for peace and lost tremendously, with a warped legacy that painted him as a villain eternally throughout Clan history.

Gray Wing warns him that if Firestar continues down this path, swerving from the Clan's culture of violence and honor in battle, that the stars will not look kindly on him and his generations again.

Firestar, having gone through The Journey and seeing the impact the raids on the cats of the twolegplace had on BloodClan, the way his nephew was nearly executed, but also the way the Clan cats and BloodClan have begun to get along, already knows his answer.

cue artsy foreshadowing to the trial, to lives of difficulty,

Gray Wing nods, promising him that even if the stars aren't with him, there are the spirits of cats all around him that will aid in his fight for change. Cue the appearance of cats who fought and died to try and change things: Ryewhisker and Cloudberry, Morningstar, the rebels that fought with Gray Wing, yada yada.

Firestar wakes up, feeling heavier than before but knowing he made the right choice.

Battle time.

BloodClan ambushes TigerClan, shifting the battle in their favor immediately. The TigerClan rebels turn against their Clanmates immediately, with Longtail and Cinderpelt spearheading the heel turn.

Firestar and Tigerstar meet in battle once again, the moon clear in the sky. It's an echo of their first battle, but Firestar has changed, stronger and now knowing this isn't a battle he has to face alone.

As Tigerstar rears back to strike, Cloudtail and Brightheart pull him back and Firestar crouches to give Scourge a leaping start, sending the small cat into the air and giving him the opportunity to slice Tigerstar's belly open, killing the scarred tabby in the same spectacular fashion as he did in the books.

Battle aftermath, Firestar reaffirming his deal with Scourge, the Clans returning to their own four homes. Princess is invited to come to ThunderClan but she says no, wishing them well.

Epilogue that shows the Clans getting along more, Firestar still struggles with managing his pain from the severe injuries he sustained at the gathering, but is surrounded by loved ones.

Corny sunset ending here.

Looking over it now, Fallen Stars was half-baked and probably wasn't going to make it off the ground anyways. I remember wishing I had kept it as an open project akin to Better Bones, but what's done is done! It's an AU I'm still very fond of and still like to think on, even if looking at my notes, it's clear I hadn't done the planning to fully commit.

Story wise...it's messy, very messy, hence the note about lack of planning. I think sitting down and doing a few more drafts would've benefited it, you can tell I had a lot of ideas and very little focus. I knew I wanted the story to be about change, I just wanted to do waaaayy too much with many characters and many different plotlines. It was ambitious for a first project but it was a fun one to work on anyways.

I still would love to talk about it, make up ideas and think it over, it's not one I want to trash in the bin just yet. Also, Wait For Me from Hadestown was my go to inspiration song for working on it, so the big theater cheese vibes all make sense.

Thanks for reading and thanks to everyone who supported the original blog!

[babyouran]

The Grade School Host is the Naughty Type! - a young boy joins the host club in hopes of learning from the masters to impress a special lady. yet they aren’t ready for all the effort it takes to train such a rowdy young man.

pairing - fem! reader x host club

apart of - ouran add-in

The theme for this special day was Arabian as their clothes were flowing in gorgeous colors with prized possessions, in gold, filtered about the room. When the boy in a green uniform finally opened the door, he was shocked at what he was witnessing, the image seeming like something not from their country but a foreign one. He tripped over himself and stared up at the members in astonishment. 

"Welcome to the Ouran Host Club," The club announced, all seated by each other with ripe, delicious fruits peeked in between and extravagant furniture. 

"Oh it's just a kid," Hikaru noticed.

"Not only that, it's just a boy," Kaoru added, clearly the two disappointed. 

"What's wrong little boy? Did you come to my palace in search of something?" Tamaki stuck out his hand with a golden ring and red gem resting in his palm.

"Uh, are you the king of this place?" The boy wondered, standing up from the ground.

"Come closer, lost one," Tamaki motioned for him to come over. "What was it you just called me?"

"The king."

"Ah, the King! Yes, I'm the king of the Ouran Host Club! Long live the host king."

"Oh no," Y/n whispered, looking at Tamaki who practically had stars in his eyes. He was standing up from his throne proudly, standing tall to pretend as if he were on a balcony surveying his kingdom. 

"I'm an elementary fifth year, Takaoji Shiro," He introduced. "I want the Host Club King to take me on as an apprentice!"

Due to a successful flattering, soon enough the elementary school student was taken on as a co-host and offered the opportunity to watch Tamaki in action. 

"Oh my, Tamaki, you have an apprentice?" A black-haired female wondered, sitting beside him.

"Yes, he's still in elementary school but I like the fire in his eyes.”

"But are you sure it's okay for such a young boy to become a host?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Love has nothing to do with age," Tamaki spoke, gently caressing her chin. "Take us for instance, whenever I look at you my heart starts pounding. Suddenly I feel no different than a lovesick little boy."

"Oh-oh Tamaki," The girl stuttered.

"Isn't it a little strange how Shiro-kun is just watching?" Y/n wondered, turning towards Haruhi and Kyoya who were also witnessing the whole scene go down. Shiro was in between Tamaki and his guest, face a little too close up to where Tamaki was touching her face. 

"There is a theory that people are considered more beautiful the closer they are viewed. Tamaki seems to live by that theory," Kyoya told them. Y/n nodded in understanding and walked up closer to Kyoya. She put her face near his, their noses almost touching, before pulling away and sitting back down beside Haruhi. 

He felt his cheeks warm up, "Well, ahem, let's leave them alone," He muttered, moving further away from where Y/n was now sitting.

"You naughty girl, you've drawn me to the forbidden fruit. Dearest you're the mermaid who's brought light into my lonely sea. My mermaid princess," Tamaki flirted.

"I remind you of a mermaid?" The girl asked.

"You look more like the carp that swims in my pond at home," The younger boy insulted. "I'd never give false compliments like that!"

"Carp?"

"Don't listen to him, he's just a kid, you know how kids are. They can't help but be honest," Tamaki tried to reassure her.

"Honest?"

"But that's just his opinion! I wouldn't say you look like a carp, and even if you did look like a carp you'd be the most beautiful carp of them all!" Tamaki spoke frantically.

"So I am a carp!"

"Uh, no that-that's not what I meant," Tamaki stuttered.

"Tamaki you're an idiot!" She cried, running out of the room embarrassed and ashamed.

"No wait! Mermaid princess!"

"Man, what a crybaby," Shiro commented, crossing his legs and arms in disappointment. 

"So how's it going boss, that's an adorable little apprentice you've got there," Hikaru laughed.

"Hikaru, do you wish you had a little brother like Shiro?" Kaoru questioned.

"Don't be silly, I could search the globe and I'd never find a better brother than you, Kaoru," Hikaru expressed, taking his brother into his arms for a tight hug.

"Uh, Hikaru."

"Look! They're doing it! It's forbidden brotherly love," Two girls cooed.

"They're homos! And they're brothers! That makes this totally insectuous!" The boy yelled.

"I think what you mean to say was incestuous," Tamaki corrected.

"Hey Shiro-chan! Want to have a piece of cake with me?" Honey wondered, jumping onto the younger boy's back. "We've got three kinds, chocolate, strawberry, and lime."

"Hey! Back off, what grade are you in any way?” Shiro shook his back in an attempt to get Honey off of him. “Why are you wearing a High school uniform?" Shiro asked staring at Honey with a disgusted face. In response, Honey's eyes started to bubble with tears.

"Something is wrong? Mitsukuni?" Mori queried.

"Honey-senpai, are you alright?" Y/n questioned, walking over to the boy. "I'd love to have cake with you, we can talk while you eat," Y/n nodded, letting the boy grab her hand.

"That's not fair! A little kid like you isn't supposed to have a cool older friend and a hot girl like her!" Shiro complained, walking backward in annoyance until he was stopped due to bumping into Haruhi.

"Are you alright? I know it's kinda hard to get used to all the weirdos around here, besides Y/n. She's very kind," Haruhi looked up at Y/n who was now showing a book to Mori. "It took me a while to get adjusted to all the craziness, so don't freak out. I'm sure you'll get used to it," She tried to reassure him.

"Do you need help with that tea, Haruhi-chan?" Y/n inquired, walking over and grabbing some of the cups.

"Bend down," The elementary boy gestured for Y/n to come down to his height. "What's with the mask?" He moved his hand to hover over her mouth, about to try and snatch the fabric to see what was underneath.

"Okay that's enough," Tamaki grabbed Shrio from the back of his jacket, pulling him away. "Shiro, why don't you take care of the tea set?"

"Y/n, you're looking very nice today," Hikaru commented, patting her head.

"Just give the set to the boy and let him do his training," Kaoru mentioned.

"Okay, just be careful, it's kind of heavy," Y/n told him, handing him the tray that Haruhi was once holding. Shiro quickly dropped it, the glass silverware and cups shattering all over the floor.

"It's not my fault I dropped it, it's her fault because she gave it to you, causing you to give it to me," Shiro said, pointing to Haruhi.

"Wait what?" Haruhi’s eyes went wide, shaking her head and raising her voice at the young boy's accusations.

"Excuse me?" Y/n asked, her opinion on the boy changing vastly. It was clear he was not a well-behaved child, speaking his mind in cases where he should be holding back. 

"That's another one hundred thousand yen Haruhi," Kyoya added.

"What?" She fumed.

"Have that mask girl do it, don't girls love doing that? I'm not here to carry tea sets, I'm here to learn how to make women happy!" He snarled. 

"Repeat that?" Y/n walked over by him, getting pulled back a bit by the twins.

"You won't get anywhere with that attitude. And I am not going to let you disrespect Y/n. So, put this brat in isolation!" Tamaki declared, pointing his finger at the boy.

"You got it, boss!" The twins popped up, fingers in the air, and soon enough a cage was lowered down, trapping Shrio.

"What's going on here?! Why'd you put me in a cage all of a sudden?!" Shiro thundered.

"I don't know if we can do this," Y/n muttered.

"Where did it come from? This is supposed to be a music room, right?" Haruhi's sweat dropped.

"This is no way to treat your loyal apprentice! Now let me out of this cage!" Shiro thudded on the bars. He tried to reach a hand through to reach something or someone, even though nothing was near his grip. 

"Not until you've learned your lesson," Tamaki told him, sipping some tea. "I made you my apprentice because I thought you were serious about becoming a host, but I guess I was wrong."

"I am serious. Totally serious," He argued, not jumping around in the cage as much as he once was.

"Are we going to let him out soon, if word gets out we keep people in cages, our family businesses will be in trouble," Y/n mentioned, looking around to see if anyone else would do something. With no one making the move she just sighed to herself and went over to the couch to read a novel. 

"I want you to teach me how to make a woman happy!" He exclaimed. "I'm going to run out of time. Please, won't you teach me? You're a host because you like girls, you like bringing a smile to a girl's face. That's why you do it, right? Please won't you teach me how to be like you?" Shiro begged. "You're a genius at it, you're the king!"

"Well, you may be a brat, but I admire your desire to become a host, so I'll teach you!" Tamaki decided. "You know Shiro, you and I are so much alike.”

"Here we go," Y/n looked up from her book to see the gleaming Tamaki, his pridefulness returned.

"Then you'll help me become a host that can make any woman happy?" Shiro grinned.

"Of course, making women happy is the sole purpose of being a host," Tamaki explained. "If this is what you really want Shiro, then you'll have to figure out how to use the material you already have.”

"What does that mean?"

"You see, here at the Ouran Host Club, our policy is to use our individual personality traits to meet the needs of our guests," Kyoya began. "For example, there's Tamaki, who is the princely type, strong silent type, boy lolita type, little devil type, cool type, and natural type," Kyoya showed, lastly pointing to Haruhi. "Now we are complete with Y/n, the special, caring type," He finished, the group now standing next to each other.

"Special, caring?" Y/n repeated

"It would seem that right now we have a perfect blend of characteristics, so it's going to be difficult to find a new type for Shiro," Kyoya confessed.

"If you go by his age, he should be the boy Lolita type."

"But Honey-senpai already has that covered," Kaoru told his brother.

"Is he going to replace me?" Honey worried.

"He's more like a tsundere type," Y/n mentioned, moving over by Haruhi.

"Oh, come on, is that all you got?" A voice wondered, soon motor noises were heard and Renge, once again, appeared from the ground.

"What's up with this place, it's supposed to be a music room," Haruhi voiced to Y/n, Y/n just shaking her head.

"Not all rich people's buildings are like this," Y/n commented. "Though at my house, we have a fish tank that comes out of the ground."

"Sorry to interrupt gentleman, but what's with the lackluster character analysis? I must say I'm quite disappointed, I thought I taught you better," She expressed.

"Alright Miss manager, how would you work Shiro into our collection of characters?" Tamaki queried. “He can't be the boy Lolita because Honey's already got that covered."

"You just don't get it, do you? Now listen up, there are plenty of girls out there who have a thing for younger boys or boys with baby faces," Renge told the group. "These girls would be considered Shota fans. Now, Shota can be a fairly broad category so it's important to know that the genre can be broken down into many different smaller sub-categories," She pointed.

"For example, shota fans with an interest in Lolita boys would favor a boy like Haninozuka-senpai," Renge told the boys, most of them listening carefully, Kyoya taking notes and Y/n peaking over to look at his notes. "But this little boy is different. If I had to pick a character for him... Yes! He'd be the naughty boy type without a doubt,"

"So tsundere?" Y/n voiced, looking at her friend who was currently trying to stifle a laugh.

"The naughty type?" Shiro repeated, someone blowing a whistle.

"Now to play up the naughty type, you should wear shorts," Renge bent down, noticing that he was wearing shorts, and she blew the whistle again. "You've got to have bumps and bruises, give him some scars!" She encouraged the twins who were putting bandages and drawing marks on Shiro.

"I don't think that Shiro needs to"

"Run like a spoiled child! Make it reckless!" Renge demanded. "Now I want you to trip and make it big!" Shiro ran and tripped on a rope, landing harshly. "Are you okay little boy? Now give them your catchphrase!"

"No big deal, it was nothing," He responded proudly.

"That was perfect! Absolutely perfect Shiro!" Renge beamed.

"That was outstanding," Tamaki clapped. "I never knew you were such a great coach, Renge."

"I've had enough of you people," Shiro yelled, gaining the attention of everyone. "This is so stupid, none of this is ever gonna help me make her happy.”

"Her?" Y/n pondered, watching the boy run away.

"Wait, Shiro! We haven't taught you how to apply the techniques you've learned yet," Tamaki called out to him.

"I swear younger boys are good for nothing. I went to all that trouble to coach him and he quits," Renge complained, disappearing back into the ground.

"I can't believe he ditched us just because he didn't like the lesson, what a selfish little brat," Tamaki ranted, clearly annoyed at losing his apprentice.

"I don't think he wanted us to assign him a personality. He had said 'she', he wants to impress a specific girl." Y/n tried to reason with the upset Tamaki. 

"Also, didn't you hear him mention that he was going to run out of time," Haruhi added. "What could that mean?"

Soon enough the club came up with a plan. They knew that the young boy needed some help and they were going to be the ones to do it, after all, he needed help impressing a girl and that was the club's specialty. Their genius plan was to send in Y/n and Honey as students at the elementary school in hopes of finding out more about Shiro and the mystery lady.

"I don't get why I'm a part of this," Y/n whispered, pouting underneath her mask.

"It will be okay N/n-chan. It was so easy to sneak in," Honey reassured her, wearing an elementary school uniform himself. "And wearing this uniform, I look like I'm in elementary school."

"Yeah I agree, I get why they wanted you. But I don't get why they needed me, I don't exactly resemble an elementary schooler with my size. Not to forget that I'm wearing a middle school uniform," Y/n looked down at her dress, and moved a hand to feel her braid. Along with the new outfit Y/n also had to put some dark blush on her cheeks, putting it on the parts that could be seen above her mask. "I don't get the point of these disguises."

In front of the two club members, some actual students just peered at them in confusion.

"Oh there's a reason, a damn good one," Tamaki muttered before Honey grabbed onto Y/n’s wrist and helped lead her down the hall. 

"Isn't she the cutest!" The twins adored.

"I don't think Y/n is happy about this," Haruhi commented.

"Look at her in that miniskirt, Y/n looks like a model," Tamaki admired.

"So, basically you just wanted to see her dressed up like that," Kyoya realized, watching Tamaki peek at the two 'undercover' members walking down the hall. Though Honey and Y/n weren’t easily seen since by then they had already made it into the classroom.

"This is it, Shiro-chan's classroom," Honey told her, opening the door.

"Okay, let's try not to cause any more attention than we already have," Y/n told him.

"When I was in elementary school, this was my classroom too!" Honey ran around.

"Wait, there is no one here," Y/n whispered to herself.

"So the kid's classroom is empty, is it?" Tamaki walked in.

"This surely takes me back," The twins reminisced, wandering around the classroom. The club members all walked around, looking around the desks, at the chalkboard, and checking out the bookshelves, they were reminded of their childhoods. 

"I wonder if my doodles are still on my desk," Kaoru wondered.

"Doubtful, the school changes out the desks every year," Kyoya informed them.

"Every year, at our schools they keep the same ones. If we were lucky they would somewhat clean them," Haruhi mentioned, following after them.

"If you guys are just walking in like nothing, what was the point of us wearing these?" Y/n pondered, gesturing down to her uniform in annoyance.

"Don't worry about it," Hikaru voiced.

"There's no one here to catch us," Kaoru reassured her. But as if he had just jinxed everyone, soon enough they could hear the echoing of footsteps in the hall. In the assumption that it was a teacher, they all ducked down under the desks.

"If the teacher finds us," Hikaru began.

"We'll have a hard time explaining how we snuck in," Kaoru finished.

"This is why I told you guys we should wait outside," Haruhi scolded them, while the twins then commented back, now the three first years bickering. 

"Be quiet, we don't want the teacher finding us," Y/n warned them, putting a finger to her lips. They waited a few silent moments before they could recognize that the footsteps had dispersed. Just to be sure, Y/n got up first and checked around before signaling everyone else to come out, "He's gone, but how are we going to find Shiro-kun?" She queried.

"Well, here's something interesting," Kyoya stated, looking at photos. The rest of the members surrounded Kyoya, all filing up beside him to look at what he had found.

"What did you find?" Haruhi questioned and in response, Kyoya pointed to a certain photo. "Hey! That's Shiro."

"So he's into classical music."

"He's also with a girl. Maybe that's the girl he was talking about," Y/n realized, turning around and looking at the group.

"There's Shiro-chan!" Honey pointed out to a classroom near the one they were in. He was seen talking with a girl before she had moved over to a piano bench to start playing. At the notice of another elementary girl from the same class exiting the classroom, Tamaki walked over to her.

"Excuse me, Mademoiselle," Tamaki started, catching her attention. "I've never seen a rose more lovely than you, my dear. Here, this is for you," He offered up the flower, bowing a little and then shortening his stance so they were more eye level. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about that young lady playing the piano. Do you know her?"

"That's Kameeshido, Hina," The little girl told him.

"Her name is Hina?" Tamaki repeated.

"That's right, but you better not fall in love with her."

"Why?"

"Didn't you know? Hina has to move away soon. Her dad just got a new job in Germany, so they have to move there at the end of the week," She told him, waltzing away while smelling the pretty flower. 

"What do you think you're doing?!" Shiro yelled. "I want you idiots to leave immediately!" He rushed over to where the group was, face as red as a beet. But Tamaki made no reaction, just picked up the smaller boy and put him over his shoulder. "Put me down! What are you doing? Ah!" Tamaki made no hesitation in making the way out of the building with the rest of the club following behind, still carrying the flailing boy.

"It's time to go, gentleman, Y/n,” He paused for a few seconds, turning his head around the best he could to peer at Shiro, “Quit thrashing around," Tamaki deadpanned. 

Once they all finally made their way back to Ouran Highschool Tamaki had just plopped the boy onto the sofa.

"What is your problem, you big idiot!" Shiro snapped.

"I'm sorry, but you're the idiot. You said you wanted me to teach you how to make women happy. But that's not it, is it? You're not concerned with the happiness of just any woman. You've got your sights set on one woman in particular. You only care about one, and that's Kamishiro Hina," Tamaki objected. "When you care for someone, you must find the courage to express what is in your heart. You have to tell her how you feel about her."

"It doesn't matter anymore, I've run out of time. I just wanted to hear her play before she left for good, that's all," Shiro expressed, staring at his hands in his lap, refusing to make eye contact with Tamaki. 

"That piece she played, it's Mozart Sonata in D major for two pianos, isn't it?" Tamaki wondered, walking over to a curtain in the corner and pulling it back to show a beautiful, shining piano.

Haruhi turned towards Y/n, "Wait a minute, since when is there a grand piano in here?"

"Well, this is a music room after all," Kaoru told her, shrugging his shoulders.

"So, why wouldn't it have a grand piano?" Hikaru asked her.

"It is a music room," Kyoya asserted.

"It is a music room," Mori repeated.

"It's always been there, we just had it covered up," Honey explained happily bouncing over to where the piano stayed.

"It's such a nice piano too," Y/n admired taking a few steps to the musical instrument herself. She placed a hand on the top, admiring the keys, and before reaching over to play one Tamaki had taken a spot on the bench. He peered up at the girl, a soft smile on his features, and began to play himself. Shiro watched Tamaki in his prime who was playing a mystical piece and taking multiple peaks up to look over at Y/n’s expression.

Whenever there was an ounce of free time Shiro would be right on the bench learning to mimic the rapid finger movements that Tamaki possessed, all working towards completing the goal of expressing himself to Hina.

It didn’t take long, with all the effort and time Tamaki had taken to teach the young boy soon enough he was prepared to play the piece himself. On a special day, the host club invited Hina to come to Music Room 3, dressing up for the young girl in anticipation of the cute moment that awaited.  

"Welcome princess, we've been waiting," They all announced.

"I present to you, Takaoji Shiro’s piano recital," Tamaki introduced. He took Hina’s much smaller arm in his own, joining together at the arm, and pushed out a seat for her to sit near the piano and Shiro.

"Let's play together Hina," Shiro stated, and very happily the girl obliged. She pulled up her chair more to the other piano starting to play while he played his. It was a truly beautiful musical melody, the two kids glancing back at one another while passionately playing the piece. It was a comforting and rewarding scene for the club to witness. Just the two gleeful children indulging in some musical enjoyment.

"We did a good thing," Tamaki observed the two, with a smile on his face. Y/n looked at him, her eyes scrunched up a bit to show she was smiling underneath the mask. It was on this day she got to peak into Tamaki’s interior a bit more, he was a man who had such a large passion for guiding others. 

"You did Tamaki-senpai, you aren't too bad," She laughed as a small blush appeared on his cheeks with a certain admiration sparkling in his eyes. 

A week later Shiro came in to see the host club once again.

"So, you've been exchanging emails with Hina now that she's in Germany?" Haruhi inquired.

"That's great Shiro-kun," Y/n complemented.

"Yeah, I like her but she can get pretty jealous for an elementary school girl. She'd be upset if she knew I was with you ladies, so let's keep this our little secret," He confessed to the girls surrounding him on the couch and nearby chairs. 

"Naughty boys are the best!"

"I could kiss you."

"Ah, you little brat, those are my guests!" Tamaki fumed.

"Well it looks like they have found someone they like better," Shiro voiced. "It was so easy to steal your customers, I think there's a new host king in town."

"I thought he'd make it through without exploding this time," Kaoru and his brother expressed holding down the blonde.

"We should have known he was gonna blow up sooner or later," Hikaru realized.

"I'm going to assume Tamaki-senpai was also a spoiled brat as a child," Y/n declared, making her way over to Kyoya.

"I was not a spoiled brat! I was nothing like him when I was a kid! I was a sweet, innocent, precocious, adorable child," He whined.

"Of course senpai," Y/n voiced sarcastically. "And I was living in a commoner's home growing up," To this comment the twins broke out in loud laughter. 

"Wait what does that mean? Do you not believe me? Wait Y/n!"

next chapter - Jungle Pool SOS!

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who didn’t believe in long-distance relationships until he met you. how was it possible to maintain a loving relationship when kilometers separated you? how could you show love and devotion if you were separated by screens? it was impossible to love someone you had never been with. it was impossible to love someone without really knowing them. so how were people falling into this trap and deluding themselves with fake love? how co— wait. but you… you were different, weren’t you? you managed to attract Taehyung. you managed to make Taehyung question his entire sense of reality. but you weren’t there. you were in another world. but still… in a way, you. “tell me what spell you cast on me. i want to get rid of this curse and talk to you again without thinking about how much i need to be with you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who always has a virtual date planned for you every month. Taehyung was a romantic by nature and, with you two being worlds apart, he had to find another way to express all his love and devotion to you. thank god there are several museums with online visits; thank god there were chat rooms with different games for you; thank god we lived in a time where the internet was the answer to all our prayers. once a month, Taehyung would take you to see and experience the world without leaving the comfort of your home, always guaranteeing and promising that one day all those experiences of yours would be lived in person next to him. “today we see this museum through our screens, but there will be a day when i will be able to take a photo of you next to your favorite piece of art just so you can see which of you is truly a masterpiece.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who writes down all the dreams he has about you in a notebook. Taehyung’s mind was in constant motion when he slept, taking him on complex adventures and strange expeditions. and, in so many wild dreams, it was almost a certainty that you would pay Taehyung one or two visits; and it was these adventures that Taehyung remember the most, sharing some of the happiness he had felt in the dream in real life. but the dreams were so many and quite confusing that before telling you, Taehyung needed to write down each moment of the dream in a notebook, making sure that nothing was missed and that everything was perfectly clarified. “this dream is going to be a little confusing, so pay attention. you were at the top of one of egypt’s pyramids, but instead of sand there was only water. so, i showed up there in a little hot air balloon and…”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who becomes desperate with the distance between you. Taehyung swore he would start banging his head against the walls just to ease the pain he felt in his chest. why were you so far away? what cruelty did Taehyung do in a past life to be suffering immensely in this reality? would the gods be upset that Taehyung loved you more than they loved their immortality? were the stars jealous of all the memories you shared from past lives? would the universe itself be resentful because your and Taehyung’s love was purer than any of its creations? how could Taehyung live every day if you were so far away from him? he just wanted to hug you, kiss you, hold you in his arms, make you happy and make you feel loved and important. and he only wanted you. there. beside him. in this life. was this too much to ask for? “i swear to you that i’m this close to getting on a plane to go see you. i don’t care about my work and i don’t care about my friends. i just want you, i just need you. urgently.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who never says goodbye to you. it was a small habit of Taehyung’s, a small detail that always weighed on your mind: why did he never say goodbye to you when you finished talking? when you realized this little curiosity, you went to talk to Taehyung, a little interested in the possible answer he could give you. but, out of so many scenarios you created in your mind, none of them matched the reality of the facts. it was with a serious and expressionless look, completely offended by your question, that Taehyung answered you, giving a little clarity to your heart. “our story is not over yet. why should i say goodbye to it?”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who offers you a stuffed bear and a bottle of his perfume. when the distance was crueler and there was a need to feel close to each other, Taehyung would ask you to spray the stuffed bear he offered you with his perfume. in a way, that idea of Taehyung managed to deceive your poor heart; when you hugged that bear with Taehyung’s scent, your heart fell into the illusion that you were next to Taehyung and, for small seconds, everything was okay. “i know i’m far away, that’s why i offer you this bear. it may not be very big, but when you spray my perfume, it becomes part of me.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who bought you a weekend in your dream city to meet you for the first time. when Taehyung showed you your flight tickets for the same day and the same city, you didn’t understand his idea; it took Taehyung to say that he would wait for you for you to understand that small gesture from him. he had remembered that city you so wanted to visit. not only that, but he also remembered the dates of your vacation. and booked a short stay in that city on your vacations. a stay with Taehyung. you were going to be together for the first time in that city that called you so much. your dream was about to begin. “just a few more weeks, my love, and then we can be infinite.”

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Take Your Time - Evan "Buck" Buckley x Reader

summary: Evan Buckley is getting ready for parent-teacher interviews with the parents of his kindergarten class. He wasn't expecting to hit it off with one of them.

a/n: this is my first 9-1-1 fic (and first non-TGM one in a long time) but I had this idea and after @sarahsmi13s and I discussed it, I went with it!

pairing: teacher!Evan "Buck" Buckley x single mom!reader

warnings/content: mentions of divorce, single parent, Buck getting a crush on reader.

word count: 2k

Evan Buckley let out a heavy sigh as he checked over the schedule he’d made for parent-teacher interviews. Teaching kindergarten was quite the change from the fourth and fifth graders he’d been used to, but so far, the seventeen little darlings in his class had been, for the most part, a refreshing new experience. He’d struggled initially, trying to find ways to entertain a classroom of five year olds, but after a week or two, he’d found his groove, settling in nicely in his new surroundings. The school district he’d transferred to was underfunded, a stark difference from the well-to-do private school he’d worked at for the previous three years, but, he appreciated the change - the private school circuit wasn’t for him, he’d learned, and the longer he stayed, the worse it seemed to feel staying in it. 

Buck looked up at the clock and furrowed his brow. He had exactly 45 minutes before parents and caregivers would start filing in, eager to meet their son or daughter’s new teacher, probably reacting with shock or surprise to learn that a man was teaching kindergarten, like his new co-workers had done when he started. He wasn’t sure what was so strange about the concept, but for some reason, it felt like a lot of people couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea. He sighed as he got up from his desk and headed down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoing as he strolled down the empty corridor. 

In the small staff lounge sat a few round tables and aged chairs, upholstered with vinyl and flattened padding, hardly comfortable to sit in for any length of time. On the counter sat a coffeepot that looked to be about as old as Buck was. He’d been hesitant to use it before, questioning both the sanitation and safety of it, but, if he was going to be hosting these interviews until well into the evening, he needed something to get him through the next four and a half hours. He just hoped that coffee would be strong enough. 

Back at the comfortable familiarity of his desk, a mug of burnt, flavourless coffee in hand, he looks around the classroom, surveying the layout in an attempt to determine if he needed to make any last minute changes in the next twenty minutes of free time he had. He sighed, realizing there wasn’t much that could be done to improve the room with the small time-frame and limited budget. Twirling a pen between his fingers, he looked out the window, watching the clouds rolling in the California sky. Focusing his attention for a moment, he looked down at the stack of papers, neatly situated on the desk in front of him. 

“Right,” he said to himself as he started sifting through the papers, ensuring each student was sorted according to the rudimentary schedule he’d made. “You’ve got this, Buck, you can handle it. A dozen and a half kindergarteners and parents. It’s fine.” 

Right on cue, the first parent entered the room at 4 pm, escorting their young daughter in the doorway, ushering her to a seat. Buck stood from his seat for a handshake, awkwardly accepted by the parent. He sat back down and nodded his head. It was going to be a long night.

“Alright, Holly, are you ready to for Mommy to meet your teacher?” you asked your five-year-old as you stood in the hallway outside of her classroom. 

It was later in the evening, the 7:45 slot being the only one you could make work with your hectic work schedule. Holly nodded her head excitedly, tugging on your hand as she tried to pull you into the classroom. You started cycling through a dozen of scenarios in your head, each one playing out how the parent-teacher interview was going to go. You knew very little about your daughter’s teacher, admittedly. You knew a form had come home with Holly on the first day of school, introducing them, but a coffee spill later, that form ended up in the trash before you had a chance to read it.

“Holly!” her teacher smiled warmly, crinkles by his eyes softening as he looked at your daughter. “I’m Mr. Buckley,” he nodded, extending his hand out to you for a handshake. “Mr. Evan Buckley.” He laughed, his cheeks turning red.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Buckley,” you smiled. His grip on your hand was firm, yet gentle. He dropped your hand after holding it a moment longer than he might’ve needed to, before taking his seat at his desk. 

“Please, you can call me Evan,” He nodded, smiling as he took a seat. He gestured to the empty chairs in front of his desk, “Please, have a seat.”

Once seated, Evan folded his hands neatly over the stack of Holly’s school work. A pair of tired baby blue eyes looked at you, meeting yours with a softened expression. You could tell he’d been at the school for hours, probably wishing he’d chosen another career choice at this stage, having been stuck in this building since at least 8 am. His dark blonde hair was neatly brushed back, strands held in place with styling product. His dark green sweater accented his pale skin, cheeks rosy and pink from a little too much sun, the pale blue collar of his dress shirt laying flat against his sweater’s neckline - he somehow looked exactly how you’d imagined a male kindergarten teacher to look, and nothing at all like how you’d imagined all at once. 

“Holly’s an exceptional student,” he began, nodding his head. “She’s always there to help her friends, and she’s been hard at work practicing the letters of her name. She’s been making some great attempts at writing her name.”  

“She has, has she?” You beamed, looking over at Holly, who was now nodding proudly at you. 

Evan produced a few sheets of paper with Holly’s name sprawled across the page in large, clumsy handwriting, on brand for a five-year-old child. He shot Holly a smile, sharing in the pride she’s showing for her work. 

“It’s been a team effort, but Holly’s been able to write it by herself for a few tries. We just needed to figure out which hand she felt most comfortable trying to write with first, right Holly?” He smiled, flashing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth, a smile you’d expect to see on a poster in your dentist’s office. 

Holly nodded her head in agreement as you and Evan continued to discuss Holly’s progress in school, how you’d been struggling the past six months since her dad walked out, and how you were relieved to hear that it hadn’t impacted her performance in school. 

After what only felt like a few seconds of discussion, you looked over to see Holly yawning, her eyelids looking heavy with exhaustion. The clock on the wall said 8:20 pm - your meeting had gone 20 minutes over the scheduled time, and now, Holly would be getting to bed later than usual.  Quickly, you stood up, shaking hands with Evan once again. 

“It was nice meeting you, thank you for being so supportive of Holly and helping her settle into school.” You started, nodding your head. “I really appreciate it.”

Buck let out a sigh, the clink of metal keys against the ceramic dish on the table by the door echoing throughout his quiet apartment. It was 9pm on a Friday, and instead of going out with his friends, like most late twenty-somethings, he’d be tucked in on the couch within the next five minutes, takeout containers scattered across his coffee table. He set the paper carry bags on the counter while he rummaged around the kitchen for a clean fork. He knew he should have run the dishwasher before he left that morning, but in his hurry to make it to school early enough to allow time to set up for meeting parents all evening, he’d forgotten half a dozen things he’d planned on doing. 

Settling for a plastic fork that he’d found in the back of a drawer, likely stored away from a previous takeout meal, he grabbed his food and sunk down into his couch, a heavy, exhausted sigh drawing from his lips. He began tucking into his dinner, tv remote in the other hand as he shoveled veggie fried rice into his mouth. Sports highlights droned on in the background, something about how the World Series was progressing, two teams Buck didn’t care enough about to pay attention to battling it out for the championship. 

As he flipped through the channels, he found himself unable to focus his attention on anything. Well, almost anything. 

The only thing his mind could focus on was the last parent interview he’d had for the night. The one with Holly’s mother - a newly single mom who was trying her best, but had to balance a hectic work life with an impending divorce and a five-year-old. 

“Thank you for being so supportive of Holly and helping her settle into school, I really appreciate it.” 

The woman’s voice echoed in his head, her gratitude evident on her face as she spoke. Buck couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with joy when he heard how she spoke so positively - a welcome change from the disdain and boredom he was met with from the vast majority of parents he spoke to. Blank stares and uninterested nods, “mhmm”s and a couple of “why are we even doing this? It’s kindergarten.” – but not with you. 

With you, it was entirely different. Smiling and laughing as you talked, a sense of concern for you washing over Buck as he listened to your concerns about Holly’s transition into school now that your ex-husband had taken off. As he watched you talk, the prettiest set of eyes he’d ever seen fixed on him, your perfect pink lips pursing into the sweetest pout he’d ever seen as you thought, mulling over what Buck was telling you about Holly, dewy, sun-kissed skin accented beautifully by your floral print dress, a light, acid-washed denim jacket draped over your shoulders, framing your figure like a work of art. 

The next morning, Buck rubbed his bleary eyes, blinking a couple of times to orient himself. He’d fallen asleep on the couch, again. It wasn’t unusual for him lately, most nights he ended up dozing off before he made it to bed, but usually, he woke up in the middle of the night, making a tired stumble up the stairs to the loft of his apartment where his bed awaited.

He frowned as he looked around the room, sunlight pouring into the living room, washing everything in a bright, golden glow. He sat up on the couch, eyes scanning the room for his phone. He reached down behind a couch cushion, pulling it out with a tired grunt as he stretched muscles that had tensed through the night. His blonde eyebrows furrowed at the time, sighing as he realized the time. He settled back down in the cushions, scrolling aimlessly on social media, trying to catch up on updates he’d missed from friends from past week.

Buck froze when he saw one of the pictures, shared last Saturday, a familiar face smiling at him from the screen. He checked who posted it –- the girlfriend of a friend of his – and his eyes widened as he saw the name of the person tagged. Confirmation that it was, in fact, you. His palms began to feel clammy as he realized you were a friend of a friend, that, if he’d gone out with his friends last weekend, he would have met you under different circumstances, shared a couple of drinks, and, maybe, invited you back to his place if you were interested. 

Now, however, things were complicated. 

Dating the parent of a student wasn’t entirely forbidden, was it?

[smilingcrittersthingig]

A lotta you said I can show some ocs so you can have these guys I made and my friends created/helped, who I call the Ugly Critters! (edit: for no reason other than it sounded funny, it's not meant to be degrading)

I'll start it off with Gar the strange creature, my lil guy. Awkward and quiet. Gar is usually not that talkative. On the rare instance he does however, he usually speaks in single words or broken english. Despite looking off-putting, he's a very sweet guy.

His pendant's a button

Next is Bitu the blib, created by my friendo and co-creator of ego critters @thenightmarestudio He's just a lil blob who tell you fun facts, his face are emoticons that can change depending on his emotions and is a pretty silly dude. He loves to go off about the things he love and will gladly talk to you about it if you are willing to listen. His pendant's his face

Kloob, a blobfish! suggested by my friend, Child He's pretty good at most stuff, only problem is he's too sad to do anything. He tends to sit at the corner or lay on the floor. Though, on good days he might even stand up! He's willing to go along with whatever his close friends drag him to. His pendant's a sad rose I think

Make way make way, for it is Manaso the snake! Suggested by my friend, Ducky He's a witch who entertains people with his magic and spells, Whether or not his magic is true is still a mystery. He acts as if he doesn't care, but say one wrong thing around him and you might never be heard of ever again. His pendant's a star

Roquefort the Lamprey! Suggested by @theonetruegnome A simple con artist, scamming you with fake medicine. He has quite a sharp tongue as well, only being a little nicer to a couple close friends (Manaso's his mortal enemy). He sells effective medicine sometimes too, though those ones are a tad more expensive His pendant's a medicine bottle I think

Glorbok, weird creature created by @mateom31 He will bite ur ankles hard. Unless he likes you, then you will simply be gently bitten. Despite how he appears, Glorbok is quite a cute buddy to have around, well unless you're fine random gremlin moments. His pendant's a bitten off piece of styrofoam

It's just your luck, it's Lucky! Suggested by my brother A very unfortunate dino with a very ironic name. He tries his best to look on the bright side of things, but it's quite difficult when the bright side feels like it's avoiding you. His pendant's an umbrella

It's Birdie Tree the bird! Suggested by my gf Appears at random times to surprise people and disappears abruptly without warning anyone. He gets a vision of something from 3 months in the future and talks about it vaguely to his friends who has no idea if he's being legit.

That's all of them, thx for reading through this

[amethystarachnid]

MUTANT BODYGUARD - part II

⤷ JAMES LOGAN HOWLETT

ᯓ★ Pairing: James Logan Howlett x fem!reader

ᯓ★ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff and spicy (I mean, it's Logan...)

ᯓ★ Story type: short story

ᯓ★ Word count: 6k

ᯓ★ TW(s): jealous and a little possessive Logan, reader has to play a love interest in a movie and her co-star makes stupid jokes and flirts with her

ᯓ★ Timeline: doesn't follow a timeline in the x-men movies, just...maybe before days of future past?

ᯓ★ Request: Can you do a part 2 on the bodyguard Logan with the actress like shes playing another famous actor love interest and Logan gets jealous ( @st4rrlighttt)

ᯓ★ From: Marvel Bingo, Bodyguard romance x Age Gap

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier lover click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn't my first language and this isn’t proof read

As the weeks pass, your relationship with Logan seems to settle into a strange sense of normalcy, despite the whirlwind of public attention surrounding you both. The tabloids are relentless, but true to Logan’s word, he brushes it all off with a shrug and a smirk, never letting the flashing cameras or whispered rumors affect the way he treats you. He’s present, caring, and somehow, the protective nature that once seemed intimidating now feels like a comforting constant in your life. You’re not used to this—to someone being so entirely in your corner, unbothered by the world’s judgment.

But as the days roll into weeks, you feel the pull of your career tugging at the edges of your quiet bubble with Logan. The script for your next project—a romantic comedy—arrives, and it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. The lead role is challenging, a huge opportunity to show your range as an actress. The director is a big name, and the production is star-studded. It’s exactly the kind of role that could elevate your career to the next level.

But there’s one complication. Your co-star, the love interest in the film, is none other than Jason Reed—a rising actor with a notorious reputation for being charming, flirtatious, and a bit of a womanizer.

Logan hasn’t said much about it, but you can tell it’s been on his mind. You’ve noticed the way his jaw tightens whenever the subject comes up, the way he changes the topic whenever the script or Jason’s name is mentioned. You didn’t want to bring it up either, unsure of how to navigate the delicate line between your career and your personal life.

That evening, you’re sitting on the couch, the script in hand, when Logan walks in, looking as brooding as ever. He glances at you, and his eyes flicker to the script on your lap.

“You start shooting tomorrow, right?” His voice is casual, but there’s a tension underneath that makes your chest tighten.

You nod, biting your lip. “Yeah, first day of filming.”

Logan crosses the room and sits down beside you, his presence as grounding as ever. He’s quiet for a moment, then he speaks, his voice low. “You gonna be kissing that Jason guy?”

The question catches you off guard, and you glance at him, searching his face. There’s no anger there, just… something else. Something raw and unspoken.

“It’s just acting, Logan,” you say softly, placing your hand on his arm. “You know that.”

He grunts, clearly not convinced. “I’ve seen the way he looks at women.”

You sigh, not sure how to ease the tension. “I’m a professional. So is he. We’re just doing our jobs.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen guys like him before.” Logan’s voice is a low growl, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. “And I don’t trust him.”

You place the script on the coffee table and turn to face him fully. “Logan, you have nothing to worry about. This is my job. It doesn’t change anything between us.”

He runs a hand through his hair, leaning back on the couch with a frustrated sigh. “It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s him.”

“I know,” you whisper, leaning closer. “But you don’t have to protect me from this. I can handle it.”

Logan’s gaze meets yours, intense and conflicted. For a moment, you think he’s going to argue, but instead, he reaches for your hand, pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both possessive and protective.

“I trust you,” he says, his voice rough but sincere. “I just don’t like the idea of some smooth-talking actor putting his hands on you, even if it’s just for a role.”

You kiss him gently, hoping to soothe the storm brewing behind his eyes. “You’re the only one I want, Logan. You know that.”

He kisses you back, his lips firm against yours, but there’s still a trace of tension in his body. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to sit around and play nice if this guy steps out of line.”

You smile against his lips, knowing full well that Logan means it. His protective streak is part of what makes him who he is, and while it can be overwhelming at times, there’s a part of you that finds comfort in it.

The next morning arrives all too soon, and you find yourself standing on set, dressed in character, nerves buzzing under your skin. Jason Reed is already there, flashing his trademark grin as he saunters over to you.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking forward to this,” he says, his voice smooth and charming, his eyes scanning you in a way that makes you feel a little too seen.

You give him a polite smile, keeping your distance. “Ready to work?”

“Always,” he replies, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes you wary. He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice. “You know, I’ve been hearing a lot about you and your new… boyfriend.”

You stiffen slightly. “Let’s keep things professional, Jason.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Just making conversation.”

The first scene goes smoothly enough, but as the day progresses, the tension between you and Jason becomes more palpable. He’s good at what he does—charming, charismatic, and undeniably attractive. The camera loves him, and you can see why audiences swoon over him.

But with every take, every lingering touch or gaze, you can’t help but feel a gnawing sense of unease. It’s not just about the scene or the acting—it’s the way Jason looks at you when the cameras stop rolling, like he’s testing the waters, seeing how far he can push.

By the time lunch rolls around, you’re more than ready for a break. You head to your trailer, hoping for a few minutes of quiet to collect yourself. But when you open the door, you find Logan sitting there, his arms crossed over his chest, a stormy look in his eyes.

“Logan,” you say, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d stop by. See how things were going.” His voice is calm, but the underlying tension is unmistakable.

You close the door behind you, walking over to him. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I wanted to,” he replies, his eyes scanning your face, searching for something. “So… how’s Jason?”

You sigh, sitting down beside him. “He’s fine. It’s just work.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, and he leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “He better remember that.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Logan, I can handle him. You don’t need to worry.”

“I know you can handle yourself,” he says, his voice softening slightly. “But I also know guys like him. And if he crosses a line, I won’t be sitting on the sidelines.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As the afternoon unfolds, you can feel the weight of Logan’s presence on set. It’s both a comfort and a reminder of the delicate balance you’re trying to maintain between your professional life and the man who’s quickly become so much more than just a protector.

When the final scene of the day comes—a pivotal moment where your character shares a passionate kiss with Jason’s—you feel Logan’s eyes on you, watching from just off-camera. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is just acting, just a scene.

But when Jason leans in, his lips brushing against yours, you can feel the intensity of Logan’s gaze burning into you. And as the scene ends, you catch a glimpse of him, jaw clenched, eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and something more primal.

As the director calls it a wrap, Jason pulls back, his grin easy and self-assured. “Not bad, huh?”

You force a smile, trying to shake off the awkwardness. “Yeah, good work.”

But as you turn to leave, Logan is already by your side, his hand finding yours, pulling you close. His touch is possessive, a silent reminder of everything unsaid.

Jason’s eyes flicker to Logan, and for a brief moment, there’s a challenge in the air, an unspoken tension that lingers between the two men.

“See you tomorrow,” Jason says, his grin never wavering.

Logan’s grip tightens around your hand. “Not if I see you first.”

You stifle a laugh, nudging Logan as you walk away, but the tension between them is impossible to ignore. As you leave the set, you realize that the lines between your world and Logan’s are blurring more and more, and you’re not sure where this story will go next.

The next morning arrives with a bright sun streaming through the windows of your trailer. After a quick breakfast, you’re buzzing with anticipation and a hint of anxiety about filming your scenes with Jason. But knowing Logan is by your side eases your nerves. You’re both navigating uncharted waters, but you’re determined to keep everything as professional as possible.

As the day progresses, the energy on set fluctuates between light-hearted banter and intense moments of focus. You do your best to keep things casual with Jason, but his flirtatious demeanor makes it increasingly difficult. Each take, every lingering look feels heavier, and you can see Logan’s tension growing with every interaction.

By lunchtime, you’re more than ready for a break. You sneak into your trailer, hoping for a moment to collect yourself. Just as you settle in, the door swings open, and there stands Logan, looking ruggedly handsome as always.

“Hey,” you say, smiling as you watch him step inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey yourself,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Thought I’d find you in here.”

“I need a break from all the flirting,” you joke, rolling your eyes. “It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he says, his expression shifting to something more serious. He steps closer, his hands finding your waist, pulling you in as he lowers his voice. “You don’t have to deal with that alone, you know.”

You lean into him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body. “I know. That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Exactly.” He tilts his head, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. The world outside fades away, and it feels like it’s just you and him in this moment. You melt into him, deepening the kiss as your hands tangle in his hair.

Time seems to slip away, and you’re lost in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. The kiss is soft and tender, a reminder of how far you’ve come together.

But just as you pull away, breathless and smiling, there’s a sharp knock on the door, causing both of you to jump apart.

“Y/N! Are you in there?” Jason calls from the other side, his tone light but a hint of impatience evident.

Logan’s expression darkens slightly, and you can see the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Just a minute!” you shout back, shooting Logan an apologetic look.

“Perfect timing,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Logan, it’s fine. We’re just—”

“I’m not letting him come in here,” Logan interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re my girl now.”

You feel your cheeks flush at his words, a mix of warmth and pride flooding through you. “I know,” you reply softly, stepping closer to him, drawn to his protective energy.

The knocking grows more insistent. “Y/N! I need to talk to you about the next scene!”

Logan huffs, clearly agitated. “Yeah, well, he can wait a minute.”

“Logan,” you say gently, trying to ease the tension. “Let me just talk to him. It’ll be fine.”

He watches you for a moment, the intensity of his gaze penetrating. “Just remember, you’re with me now. You don’t owe him anything.”

You take a step back, feeling the weight of his words. “I know, but I want to keep things professional. We can’t let this interfere with work.”

He gives you a reluctant nod, still looking a bit possessive. “Fine, but I’m staying right here.”

You chuckle, knowing he won’t budge. You head toward the door, preparing yourself for the encounter. You take a deep breath before swinging it open.

Jason leans against the frame, a confident smile plastered on his face. “There you are! I was just wondering if we could go over the scene together.”

You nod, doing your best to keep the situation light. “Sure, let’s go over it.”

But as you start to step out of the trailer, Logan moves to stand beside you, his posture relaxed but his presence impossibly dominant. You can feel the tension radiating from him as he folds his arms and leans slightly closer to you, as if to make it clear to Jason that you’re not going anywhere without him.

“Hey, man,” Jason greets Logan casually, a hint of surprise flashing across his face. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just making sure Y/N is good,” Logan replies, his tone edged with an unmistakable possessiveness. “You know how demanding the job can be.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face. “I get it. Protecting your girl and all.”

You shoot Logan a warning glance, but he doesn’t seem to care. The way he’s standing, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, sends a clear message: you’re taken.

“Just remember, it’s still a work environment,” you interject, trying to ease the tension. “We’re here to focus on the film.”

Logan looks down at you, a soft smile breaking through his seriousness. “Right. But that doesn’t mean I can’t keep an eye on things.”

Jason chuckles, though there’s a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “No problem. Just let me know when you’re ready to rehearse.”

You take a step forward, hoping to diffuse the situation. “We’ll be right out, Jason. Just give us a second.”

As Jason turns to leave, Logan leans down, whispering in your ear, “You know he’s going to be trying to push my buttons all day, right?”

You can’t help but laugh softly. “I know, but we can handle it. Just remember, I’m with you. Always.”

Logan pulls back, his gaze softening. “Yeah, I just want to make sure he knows it.”

With that, you step out of the trailer, feeling Logan’s presence lingering beside you. As you walk back to the set, you catch Jason’s eye, and he flashes that charming smile again, but this time you’re not swayed. Not with Logan standing strong beside you.

Filming continues, and though Jason attempts to play up the flirtation during scenes, you feel a new sense of confidence in your relationship with Logan. Each time Jason leans a little too close or delivers a line with a little too much innuendo, you can feel Logan’s gaze on you, fierce and protective. You catch his eyes, a silent conversation passing between you: you’re in this together.

The final scene of the day arrives, and it’s the climax of the movie—a passionate confession followed by an even more passionate kiss. You and Jason stand across from each other, the tension in the air electric.

“Ready?” Jason asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you reply, feeling a twinge of nerves. You glance toward Logan, who is watching from the side of the set, arms crossed and an expression that says he’s not impressed.

As the director counts down, you take a deep breath, channeling all your emotions into the moment. Jason steps closer, his face hovering inches from yours, and as you start the scene, you can feel the weight of Logan’s gaze burning into your back.

The kiss comes, and you pour everything into it, knowing that the reality of your feelings lies just beneath the surface. As the kiss deepens, you feel a spark of rebellion against the situation, and you realize just how much you want to distance yourself from Jason’s advances.

The director yells “Cut!” and as soon as the command rings out, you pull away, your heart racing. But as you step back, you catch Logan’s gaze again, and this time it’s different. There’s an intensity in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that you’re his, and he’s yours.

As Jason makes a joke about the scene, trying to lighten the mood, you can see the way he’s trying to maintain his charm, but it doesn’t faze you. You turn to Logan, who’s stepped closer, his presence radiating a sense of ownership that sends warmth cascading through you.

“Good job out there,” he murmurs, his voice low as he tugs you closer.

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth at his proximity. “I was just thinking about how much I’d rather be kissing you right now.”

Logan grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Trust me, you’ll get plenty of that later.”

Just then, Jason approaches, his confidence unshaken. “So, Y/N, you think we can work on that scene a bit more later? Maybe grab dinner?”

You don’t hesitate. “Actually, I have plans,” you say, shooting a quick glance at Logan, who looks like he could take on a bear if he had to right now. “With Logan.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, his smirk faltering slightly. “Really? You’re going to let him keep you from doing some real work?”

You don’t flinch. “Logan isn’t keeping me from anything. I’m choosing to be with him.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Jason’s face, but he quickly recovers, his charm returning. “Well, I guess you’ve made your choice then.”

You smile sweetly, a sense of triumph surging through you as you turn to Logan, who’s watching the exchange with an amused expression.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, the possessive glint in his eyes returning.

As you walk away from the set, hand in hand with Logan, you feel

a rush of exhilaration. You’ve stood your ground, and for the first time in a long while, you feel empowered.

The world beyond the set may be full of distractions and complications, but in this moment, with Logan beside you, everything feels right.

The night of the premiere is electric. Flashbulbs flicker in rapid succession as fans line the barricades, shouting out for autographs and pictures. The energy is infectious as you step onto the red carpet, the roar of the crowd sending a rush of adrenaline through you. The premiere of your romantic comedy has been highly anticipated, and tonight feels like the culmination of all the hard work you and Jason put into the film.

You take a deep breath, standing tall in your stunning gown, feeling the press of eyes from every direction. Beside you, Jason looks every bit the charming leading man, his arm casually draped across your back as the two of you wave to the crowd. It's all part of the act—selling the chemistry you had on-screen—but tonight, there’s a difference. Logan is here.

Your eyes dart to where Logan stands just behind you, dressed impeccably in a dark suit, but not in the way that draws attention. He blends into the crowd of security personnel and handlers, his gaze steady as he watches over the event. He’s doing his job, but you know him well enough to sense the tension beneath his cool exterior.

As you step onto the main stretch of the carpet, reporters rush forward, jostling for your attention. Jason leans in, giving them his signature grin as he holds you a little closer, making the moment look picture-perfect. But you feel Logan’s gaze on you, like a tether grounding you in the midst of the chaos.

A reporter thrusts a microphone toward you and Jason, her eyes wide with excitement. “Y/N! Jason! You two had such amazing chemistry in the film. What was it like working together on this romantic comedy?”

Jason is the first to answer, his voice smooth and confident. “It was fantastic. Y/N is an incredible actress, and working with her just made everything feel natural. The chemistry was easy—when you’re working with someone as talented as her, it just clicks.”

You smile graciously, playing along, though your thoughts are half-focused on Logan’s presence just behind you. “Jason made it really easy to get into character. We had a lot of fun on set, and I think that translated on screen.”

The reporter’s eyes light up, sensing an opportunity for more. “You two seem to get along so well. Was there ever a moment where the lines between acting and real life blurred?”

Jason chuckles, leaning in closer to you, his voice dropping just enough to seem intimate. “You know, there were definitely moments where it felt very real,” he says, giving you a wink that sends the crowd into a frenzy of excited murmurs.

You feel a flicker of discomfort, though you keep your smile firmly in place. It’s all part of the show. But as you glance toward Logan, you catch the flash of something protective in his expression, though he remains stone-faced and professional, arms crossed as he keeps his distance.

You clear your throat, quickly steering the conversation back to the movie. “Well, we were definitely dedicated to making sure the audience felt the connection between the characters. We wanted it to be as authentic as possible.”

The reporter nods eagerly, then shifts her attention, sensing the drama just beneath the surface. “Speaking of real life, Y/N, the press has been buzzing about your relationship with Logan Howlett. It must be a bit strange to have your boyfriend here tonight—especially since he’s working as security. How does that dynamic play out, especially with all the chemistry between you and Jason?”

The question hangs in the air for a beat, and you can feel the intensity of the moment building. The flashes from the cameras seem to grow brighter, and for a second, you wonder how Logan is feeling, hearing his name brought into the public eye like this. He’s always been fiercely private about your relationship, careful to keep things professional in public.

You force a confident smile, even though you know the question is loaded. “Logan is amazing, both personally and professionally. He’s been so supportive, and I’m really lucky to have him by my side.”

Jason jumps in, clearly enjoying the extra attention. “Logan’s a good guy. We all know this is just part of the job. Y/N and I have great chemistry on screen, but off-screen? She’s got her guy.” He says it with a playful tone, but you can sense the way he’s subtly stirring the pot.

You glance toward Logan again, your heart tightening slightly when you see the set of his jaw. He’s doing his best to remain neutral, but you know him too well. He hates being reduced to just “the bodyguard” in moments like this, especially when Jason’s tone carries a subtle undercurrent of smugness.

The reporter doesn’t miss a beat. “It sounds like there’s a lot of respect between everyone involved, but there’s no denying the fan theories out there—people are rooting for a real-life romance between you and Jason. How do you handle that?”

You laugh lightly, the sound carrying over the crowd. “I think people always want to believe in the stories they see on-screen. But the reality is, we’re actors doing our jobs. Jason and I had a lot of fun working together, but off-screen, we’re just friends.”

Jason leans in again, this time more for the cameras than the conversation. “Well, friends with great chemistry, right?”

The fans nearby scream in excitement, but you feel Logan’s tension like a heavy cloud hanging in the air. You can practically sense the way his muscles have gone rigid, his eyes locked onto the scene unfolding before him. It’s clear Jason is playing it up for the cameras, leaning into the narrative of a possible romance to feed the buzz around the movie. But it’s a fine line he’s walking, and you know it’s testing Logan’s patience.

Before the conversation can go any further, another reporter jumps in, changing the subject to the film’s themes and comedic elements. You breathe a silent sigh of relief, grateful for the brief reprieve.

As the interviews wind down and you begin to make your way down the carpet, you feel a hand gently press against the small of your back—Logan’s hand. He’s finally close enough to offer a small, reassuring touch, hidden from the view of the cameras but grounding you nonetheless.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You nod, giving him a quick, grateful smile. “Yeah. Just the usual.”

His eyes flicker with something protective, but he keeps his expression calm. “He’s pushing it,” Logan says quietly, nodding toward Jason, who is now posing for photos with a group of fans, all smiles and charm.

“He’s just playing the game,” you reply softly, squeezing Logan’s hand in reassurance. “But don’t worry. Everyone knows who I’m really here with.”

Logan’s gaze softens, and though he says nothing more, you can feel the weight of his unspoken words. He’s here, standing by you—always.

The night on the red carpet had been buzzing with excitement, and for the most part, you had managed to navigate it smoothly. Between the interviews and the endless flashes of cameras, you had kept your cool, smiling for the press, exchanging quips with Jason, and doing what you were there to do—promote your movie. But Jason was testing Logan's patience, and deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time before things came to a head.

It happened just as you were wrapping up your final photo op. Jason, standing far too close for comfort, leaned into your ear and said in a voice just loud enough for the reporters to catch, “You know, Y/N, if we ever wanted to try out that chemistry off-screen, I wouldn’t mind.”

His tone was playful, clearly intended to stir the pot for the cameras, but the implication was unmistakable. You shot him a sideways glance, your smile faltering for a split second. The crowd ate it up, eager for any hint of drama or flirtation, but you could feel Logan’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

You knew that was it. The moment Logan would break his iron-clad professionalism.

As soon as the cameras were out of view, Logan was by your side, his hand resting firmly on your lower back, guiding you through the narrow hallway leading to the back of the theater. His grip was tight, possessive, and you could sense the tension rolling off him in waves. You barely had time to register what was happening before he steered you towards a nearby restroom.

With a swift motion, Logan pushed open the door, pulling you inside with him. The click of the lock echoed in the small, dimly lit space, and suddenly, you were alone with him, the noise of the premiere muted behind the thick walls.

“Logan—” you started, but your words were cut off as he turned you to face him, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

His gaze was intense, darkened with something primal and possessive. “He doesn’t get to say that to you. Not in front of me, not in front of anyone,” Logan growled, his voice low, rough, and vibrating with frustration.

Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his words, but there was something thrilling about it, too. The raw need in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

“He was just playing it up for the cameras, Logan. It’s part of the game,” you said, your voice a little breathless as his grip tightened.

Logan’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in it—just a simmering, barely controlled jealousy. “I don’t give a damn about his game. You’re mine, Y/N. And I’m going to make sure you remember that.”

Before you could respond, Logan’s mouth was on yours, crushing against your lips with an urgency that took your breath away. His kiss was fierce, claiming, his hands sliding down to your hips as he backed you up against the cool tile wall of the bathroom. You gasped, your hands instinctively grabbing the lapels of his jacket, holding on as the heat between you two surged.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, kissing a path of fire along your skin. “No one else gets to make you blush like that,” he murmured against your throat, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin and sending a wave of desire coursing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, trying to keep your head clear, but it was hard to focus with the way his hands were roaming your body, fingers sliding over the fabric of your dress, exploring every curve. His touch was possessive, almost territorial, but it ignited something deep within you—a craving that only he could satisfy.

His hand slipped up the slit of your dress, fingers brushing against the bare skin of your thigh, and you could feel the restraint in him, the way he was trying to hold back even though every fiber of his being wanted to take things further.

“Do you know what it does to me, hearing him talk to you like that?” Logan’s voice was a low rumble, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Knowing that you’re mine, but he’s standing there, acting like he has a chance?”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan…you know you’re the only one I want.”

His eyes darkened at your words, and he captured your lips again, this time slower but no less intense. His hands slid up your sides, teasing the edge of your dress as his tongue danced with yours, a slow, intoxicating rhythm that made your knees weak.

You could feel the heat between you growing, the way his body pressed against yours, hard and unyielding. The tension that had been simmering all night finally boiled over as Logan gripped your hips, pulling you even closer, as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

His mouth moved back to your neck, biting gently at your skin before soothing it with his tongue, leaving a trail of heat that made you gasp. “I need you to say it,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “I need to hear you say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. “I’ve always been yours.”

That was all it took. With a low growl of satisfaction, Logan’s lips crashed against yours again, his hand slipping further up your thigh, fingers teasing the bare skin there. The feel of his touch, the intensity of his kiss, made everything else fade away—Jason, the red carpet, the cameras. None of it mattered.

Logan pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his breathing ragged, his hand still resting possessively on your thigh. “Good,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “Because I don’t plan on letting you forget it.”

The tension hung thick in the air between you as he pressed his forehead against yours, his body still flush against yours, the heat between you practically crackling. There was a promise in his gaze, one that sent your pulse racing.

“Now let’s get back out there,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear one last time. “Before I forget myself completely.”

With a final, searing kiss, Logan reluctantly pulled away, his hands slowly releasing you, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You straightened yourself, smoothing your dress as best you could, trying to regain your composure, even though your pulse was still racing and your mind was spinning from the intensity of it all.

Logan unlocked the door, stepping aside to let you exit first, his hand brushing the small of your back as you reentered the chaos of the premiere. But the look in his eyes as he glanced at you, that dark, possessive glint, reminded you that tonight, no matter what anyone else said or did, you were his girl. Always.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You lay nestled against Logan’s chest, his arm draped around you, holding you close. The events of last night still played in your mind, each moment more vivid than the last. Logan’s possessiveness, the intensity of his touch, the way he had claimed you without hesitation—it left you breathless. Now, in the quiet aftermath, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, everything felt right. Safe. Like you belonged here, with him.

Logan stirred beside you, his grip tightening around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. His chest rumbled with a soft, contented sigh, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the heat of his body pressed against yours. The night had been intense, filled with passion that neither of you had been able to hold back. But now, in the calm of the morning, it was peaceful, comforting.

Your phone, which had been resting on the nightstand, buzzed. At first, you ignored it, not wanting anything to break the serene bubble you and Logan had created. But then it buzzed again—and again.

With a groan, you reached over, grabbing it. Logan, still half-asleep, tightened his hold on you and mumbled, “Ignore it.”

You chuckled softly. “I wish I could.”

Unlocking your phone, you were immediately greeted by a flood of notifications. Texts, social media mentions, even missed calls. Your brow furrowed as you scanned through them, trying to make sense of the sudden flurry of activity.

Then, one message caught your attention. It was from your publicist: "We have a situation. Reporters are already running with a story about you and Logan being… intimate at the premiere last night. They saw you leave the bathroom together."

Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit you. The bathroom. The heated moment with Logan. You hadn’t even considered that anyone might’ve seen you. The adrenaline, the need to be close to him—it had clouded everything else.

Logan sensed your tension and lazily opened one eye. “What is it?”

You hesitated, biting your lip, then handed him the phone. He glanced at the screen, scanning the message, before tossing the phone back on the nightstand with a nonchalant shrug. “So?”

“So… some reporters saw us leave the bathroom,” you said, half-embarrassed, half-amused. “It’s already making headlines. I guess they didn’t expect us to be so… open.”

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rough, sending a shiver through you. “They can write whatever the hell they want. Doesn’t change anything.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, his expression completely relaxed, almost amused. “You really don’t care, do you?”

“Why would I?” His fingers traced lazy circles on your bare skin, a slow, deliberate motion that made it hard to focus on anything else. “Everyone already knows we’re together. So now they know we can’t keep our hands off each other. Big deal.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest at his carefree attitude, and you rested your head back against his chest. “I guess I’m not used to being so… public about things like this.”

“Trust me, sweetheart,” Logan murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might actually do us a favor. If Jason or anyone else was thinking about getting too close, this’ll make ‘em back off. They’ll know exactly who you belong to.”

His possessiveness, that underlying hint of jealousy, was so distinctly Logan. Protective, fiercely loyal, and unapologetic about claiming what was his. It was one of the things you loved most about him. There was no pretense, no games—just raw honesty.

You shifted, propping yourself up on one elbow so you could look at him fully. “And what about you?” you teased, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “What if the press decides to make a bigger deal out of this?”

Logan’s eyes met yours, a glint of mischief in his gaze. “Let them. I don’t care what they say. What matters is right here,” he said, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “You. Me. That’s all that matters.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. Logan wasn’t like anyone else you had ever been with. He didn’t care about the opinions of others, about the noise that came with being in the spotlight. All he cared about was you—and making sure that the world knew you were his.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his in a slow, languid kiss, letting the warmth of his touch sink into you. “I love you, you know that?” you whispered against his lips, feeling the truth of the words settle deep inside you.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of Logan’s mouth as he pulled you closer. “I know,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “And I love you.”

The phone buzzed again, but this time, you ignored it. Whatever the press had to say, whatever headlines were spinning—none of it mattered. All that mattered was this moment, wrapped in Logan’s arms, where everything else faded away.

You had never felt so sure, so secure. With Logan by your side, you could handle whatever came next—reporters, Jason, the whirlwind of public attention. It was all noise compared to the quiet, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

And as the morning sun streamed through the window, casting a golden glow over the two of you, you knew that no matter what the world said or did, Logan was right. This — right here — was all that truly mattered.

I'm a sucker for soft Logan I'm sorry. If you like the story don't forget to like, reblog and maybe even leave a comment or a follow to read more of my stories! <3

[wolvesroampastelgalaxies]

Edit: All chapters up on Tumblr & ao3 :p

Okay, so I saaaaid 3 chapters. But like every good ending to a movie franchise, we going halfsies. ;P I will be dead honest, I have only seen the fist episode of FoP: ANW and have no desire to continue, because, as a 24 yo woman I should not feel this distraught about a cartoon. Also, I'm recalling things from the OG series by memory. So if things don't quite line up with canon or lore, just let me have the liberation that comes with fan fiction. Also, I know the show takes place ~20 years ahead, I like to think Timmy kept his fairies till he was 18 and so it has been 12 years since they have last been together.

Second Star To The Right And Straight On Home ⭐️ (Part 1)

Timmy had been working on this sales report for the first 3 hours of shift. His hands were cramping as his eyes strained at the screen. Maybe he needed glasses? Definitely needed to start taking magnesium supplements. Was he really getting that old? It wasn’t like he had done much in his life to feel old at 30. That was another thought, he hadn’t done much of anything. He’d been at this job for nearly three years, maybe a handful of failed dates, and spent his free time napping on the couch after eating room temperature pizza. 

  What am I doing?

  Introspection always vined its way like poison ivy through the ridges of his brain when left with his own thoughts.  

  I need fresh air, maybe take a walk, go grab a drink this weekend, anything to break up the monotony.

  Monotony: he never used that word. The world was starting to bleed into the black and white screen he worked with, smearing into something gray. This was torture, working under florescents when there was real sunlight. His cubicle was near the back of the office and closest to the windows. It magnified his gloominess by teasing the bright colors of the outside. He frequently cast glances to see streams of sun peeking through tree leaves. Most times, there was a finch sized bird sitting on the closer branches. Timmy noticed it the first time when, strangely, he was feeling watched. Or maybe he was desperate for attention. 

  Lately, when he’d go to check on the little bird, it was missing, leaving him discontent. It was a strange color, akin to lavender or periwinkle. No amount of Google searches revealed the species. It wasn’t uncommon for Cosmo and Wanda to take animal forms. Green and pink dogs were definitely harder to explain. There were no strange looks when they were pins on his backpack or- 

  Wait. 

  Timmy’s brows furrow and he moves his hands to grip the arms of his chair, sitting up straighter. Though he was looking outside, all focus was on whatever was unfurling in his head. 

  Cosmo and Wanda .... did I ever have dogs? No. Definitely not a green one. I had fish, it's a wonder they stayed alive for so long. 

  Why did he think of those names? Why could he picture personified versions of everyday objects? Always the same color. Green and pink. Pink and green. Because he knew them. He knew they weren't pins on a backpack or an .... umbrella? 

  They were my fish. Right? But they were also people. No, that’s not quite right either. 

  They were his fairies. And he remembers skydiving. He’s never been skydiving. But how does he know the sting of wind on his face?  And why was his parachute talking? Timmy nearly knocks over his chair as he gets to his feet, heart rate increasing like the one and only time he went to the gym. A co-worker catches the sudden movement, sensing a source of panic. 

    “Yo, Turner, you good man?”

  Timmy barely registers the words and makes a noise in the back of his throat as a reply.

    “I’vegottogo.” He tumbles out, snatching his car keys and phone from beneath the desk. 

  He has to find that fishbowl. 

💫💫💫

    The house had been shut up since his parents left on their yearlong Winnebago journey. Outside of Facebook posts and a few messages he rarely spoke to them. They were never really the attentive type. At least not to their son. Timmy has a hard time getting the door open. Images and dialogue clog up his concentration. It’s like their occurring in the moment and yet he’s recalling them from the past at the same time 

  Wishing for Christmas every day? Really immature Timmy.

  ‘We’re two halves of a whole idiot!’

  Wanting to be a girl for the day was a bad idea from the start. What was I thinking? Even if Trixie Tang was hot. Wanda did warn me though.

  'This bike stinks. I need one that’s cool as I am!’ 'This bike is as cool as you are!’

  'Did I really wish to be in the internet? Oh dear God I’m so happy it wasn’t the modern-day web.

  'And here's Wanda with the news: Vicky 's going to kill you when she finds out what you're up to!’

  His head pounds from the jumbled jargon he once knew as it takes meaning again. No wonder he felt so bored with his life now. He had fairies and dumb wishes with dumb, sometimes disastrous outcomes as a kid. Cosmo and Wanda were his fairies! There was a whole world of fairies, anti-fairies, and pixies and magic!  And there was a whole book of rules, all of them he sees himself breaking. As well as being the source of new ones.

  When the keys finally make it into the doorknob and he throws it open, not bothering to retrieve them or close the door. After he had moved out, his parents didn't do anything with his stuff. Just shoved boxes and the miscellaneous in as they needed. Everything was mostly in the same spot. Including the fishbowl.  

  It was right where it should be on his nightstand. Timmy went to reach for it but pulled back, staring intently. Dust had covered the glass surface, and he was afraid that disturbing any of it might cease the onslaught of memories. He wanted these memories, he wanted to know his life hadn’t been useless. That there were people who wanted the best for him and didn’t abandon him when there was a stupid decision to be made. Knowing that two tiny fairies said they cared for him. 

  His heart was pulsing hot bolts of pain at the thought of having lost them in the first place. At wondering why his god-parents left him and where they were now. 

  After a long moment, he tentatively reached out, bringing it closer, letting clips of childhood reflect off the glass. It was barely big enough for one guppy, much less three goldfish. Three. There had been three.   

  There was no cringe or embarrassment attached to this wish. In fact he remembered being the happiest he’d ever been in his life. It has been him and his god-parents for a long time, and he never thought it could get better. It was an overwhelming feeling of love that encompassed past and present. Cosmo and Wanda for once hadn’t warned him of the repercussions, despite them being epoch-making; they all knew it was so worth it. 

  Sadness has such a way of tainting things. It crept unnoticed as another memory took place. It was in this room. He felt a tight squeeze around his arm and saw Cosmo’s face pressed into his shoulder, muffling sobs, his dramatics matching the situation for once. A light kiss pressed itself into his temple as Wanda patted down his hair. Tiny hands pulled at his shirt and tears stained more than his clothes. Then there was nothing. Like it was all a dream that faded with the night and the sun was rising a now dull dawn.

  Timmy rubbed at the dust with his thumb, smearing a tear across it. He remembered the third one. His voice choked on something bitter as he saw through the eyes of his younger self, hugging the baby fairy when it all went away. 

    “Oh Poof, I - I’m so sorry.”

    “Don’t be. And it’s Peri now.”  

          💫 💫 💫

  Was that really the first thing to say after 12 years? The strain in his own voice prevented what Peri thought might be condescending. Call it intuition or an inference, but he knew Timmy would come back here. After Dev granted his wish, he sat there dumb struck until the kid asked him what happened next. Peri had pictured the reunion with so many different outcomes that, for a moment, he was scared of ‘next.’ Timmy was all the way back in Dimmesdale, across the country, though that was no problem with a little magic. Magic however, could be independent if left without clear boundaries. Peri had no idea how this wish would work out. Would it be instant? Would it come back in pieces? Would it work at all? He was sure he found a loop-hole. He could recall several times his magic went against Da Rules without the intention, and as dangerous as it was, this was his fail safe. 

  This was Peri’s first time shapeshifting into his human form that was not directly from his normal one. His little finch self has flown through the cracked window, its symbolism lost on him.  A human body felt clumsy, but it seemed like the right choice. What if he hadn’t remembered they were fairies yet? Granted, he was still trying to figure out the wings and crown, it was difficult to hide the markers of his true self.

  It would not have mattered if Poof appeared as a fairy or disguised as human, Timmy could see Cosmo and Wanda in him. He had just been a year or two out of his beach-ball stage when Timmy had turned 18, and the then young kid was already resembling his parents. Now, Timmy was struck with the resemblance to his god-parents. His little Poof had Cosmo’s smile and Wanda’s hair, but his eyes were uniquely his own and easily the most identifiable. Timmy had seen those lavender eyes glitter as they first took in the world. He hated anyone or anything that turned those eyes into blank spaces all this time.

  Peri might not have been going by his government name, but he made a noise akin to it when Timmy pounced on him. Petite as he was, something he got from his father (well, before retirement), he felt enveloped by the embrace. Even as a human, Peri was slight and though Timmy was no body-builder, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. The differences didn’t register as he felt the warmth of Timmy’s near crushing hold. His body recalled the last time they were like this, when it was goodbye. As his mind caught up to the haptic memory, the contrast between then and now made him break.

  My brother remembers!

 Relief was meant to be calming, coming out from a storm unharmed, but for them it was a tsunami. For all the bravado and charisma he showcased, over a decade of longing revealed itself. Timmy wasn’t much taller but it was enough so he could hide his face in his brother’s neck, for once not holding back the tears. He felt the human’s cheek press against the side of his head and it was the most contact either had in a time they had stopped counting. Timmy couldn’t believe this, he never wanted to let go, never wanted to forget a single second of this. How could any magic replace this?

  The moment could not bridge the years apart had they stayed this way for twice as long. Timmy had to force himself to push Peri back by his shoulders, one hand staying there and the other pressed against the back of his head to get a better look. If he still had them, he’d wish for the tears to stop so he could see properly.

    “Oh my God. Poof, look at you! You grew up! How-how could I have missed this?” He hiccuped.

   Peri didn’t bother to correct him, the name was childish but they had both been children when Timmy named him and if anyone had a pass to say it, it was his big brother.  The fairy took a shaky breath, attempting to blink away the kaleidoscopic effect of tears. 

    “Like -,” he has to step back, letting both of Timmy’s hands rest on his shoulders, or he might never stop crying, “Like I said, don’t be sorry.” He smiled pitifully. They could fix it now

    “We used to watch - oh what was that show? Sleazy and Cheezy! And you about got me killed!” He laughed, wanting to recall as much as possible

    “And - and remember the time mom was so mad because you were teaching me to shape shift!”

    “Tree and bee do sound the same!”

    “Okay but, you definitely stretched it with the bird and rocket mix up!”

    “Hey, I wasn’t gonna let you take the fall. You were already falling in on our roof.” 

  Reluctantly, Timmy let go of Peri’s narrow shoulders, the euphoria bottoming out. Peri saw the dimming of blue eyes, and an intense anxiety struck him. This time he was the one reaching out.

    “What’s wrong? 

  Timmy pulls away and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. A musty smell arose as the sheets crinkled under the weight. Peri watched as a perturbed look took form.

    “Why?” He finally says.

    “What do you mean ‘why’?”

    “I grew up, they wiped my brain. You could have lived eternity and forgotten about me.”

     Peri had a lightning-like shot of anger, “I could never forget about you. None of us could.”

     Timmy scoffed, “You’re telling me that immortal fairies, who have had countless god-kids throughout the centuries, would find me so important?”

     The fairy clenches his fist, stomping over to force the human to look at him. "You have no idea how hard they fought for you. Or how much of a hole you left for us. They haven't had a god-kid since you.” 

    “Really?” He concedes. It dissipates into something bitter and selfish when he sees Peri’s resolve falter.

    “Well -

    “I figured as much.”

    “No, you don’t understand.” He says the harshness leaving, replaced with empathy. He sits down next to Timmy. “It was very recent. And I was mad and couldn’t understand either, after all we went through.”

   “Thanks.” He says flatley. 

   “Will you just listen to me? When they met Hazel, they said it felt different from their time with you. Because they realized you meant more than being their god-kid. That it was the same feeling they have with me.”  

 They think of me like their son? 

  Timmy wills himself not to let go of another tear, but it has been an emotional day and having half your life re-written can be a little overwhelming.

    “Do they know, that, well, that I know ? ”

    Peri grins, a bit of debonair sneaking in, “Would you like to tell them?”

  He thinks of the first time he met his god-parents, at 10 it never crossed his mind to be skeptical because, hey, unlimited wishes. Now that he’s older, he realizes all the lessons he learned from them. And how he could get away with so much more with Cosmo and how Wanda would nag him like a mother. They were more his parents than his biological ones. 

    Timmy bumps his shoulder with Peri’s, “You realize we probably are going to be crying again?”

    “No doubt. Family reunions can be emotional.” He says with a curt nod, now wearing a full smile. 

  Family. His family. 

    “I gatta ask though, did you say your name was Peri?”