#my show feels so long ago but at the same time like it was yesterday and it’s so surreal that the tour is fully over now

[fioletowa-krowa]

I hate when things come into my life in a way where if my life were a tv show it would be heavy-handed

[stateofgracetaylorsversion]

no but i actually cannot allow myself to think about the eras tour being over for more than two seconds or i WILL lose it

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 3

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make nothing into something for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). lando is abusive, full stop but like many survivors of abuse, it takes reader a bit to claw herself out of this. as a survivor of abuse myself, I am doing my best to give this story line the most respect and care that i can. please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering.i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4.9k

(Extra special shout out to @nitaekook for beta reading and holding my hand through this fic 😂❤️)

Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Master List

“Where do you want these plates to go, my dear?” Jade asks from across the kitchen. 

You glance up at her from your spot on the brand new couch that was just delivered to the new apartment that morning. You’re sitting cross legged unpacking a box of the few things that you had brought over from the old apartment. In the kitchen, your best friend Jade (who is also Arthur’s girlfriend of about a year thanks to your meddling) stands holding up one of the new plates that you bought with her yesterday. 

“Wherever there’s room.” You say with a shrug, not really caring where the plates go because everything feels weird.

The apartment is pristine with its gorgeous hardwood flooring that Charles had refinished before you moved in, floor to ceiling windows that face out towards the water, and that new house smell that is totally unfamiliar and a little unnerving. You should be happy, shouldn’t you? Finally being free of the stifling apartment that you had shared with Lando should fill you with so much optimism and a sense of relief, shouldn’t it? But that’s not the case. Not even close. You’re scared and nervous and just the thought of deciding where those plates should go seems like the heaviest question you've ever been asked.

 Simply picking out the plates yesterday with Jade had been an ordeal and you had needed to take several moments to yourself while shopping. You liked your old plates that you had bought with Lando the week you moved in with him but at the same time, the thought of taking those to your new apartment was more painful than leaving them behind.

Jade must notice your anxiety because as soon as she finishes putting the plates and bowls in whatever cabinet that suits her fancy, she comes over to sit next to you on the couch. When she wraps her arm around your shoulders you melt into her in a desperate attempt to stop a fresh flood of tears from falling. It seems as if all you’ve done since leaving the old apartment was cry and if you’re not crying, you’re barely fighting off an incoming panic attack and jumping with every ding of your phone. 

“What’s going on, my love?” Her voice is gentle, like she’s talking to an injured animal that she doesn’t want to spook. It makes you feel pathetic, helpless, and angry for how much Lando has damaged you when he should have been loving you. 

You’ve known Jade for years now and she’s always been one of your closest friends. It was Jade that had been the first of your friend group to pull you aside almost a year ago to ask you if you were truly happy with Lando. She had seen the light dim in your eyes as your relationship with him progressed and watching you lose your spark had scared her. When you had told her the morning after your art show last month that you had finally decided to leave Lando, it had been so hard for her to tamp down her excitement that you had finally worked up the courage to leave him. 

“I should be happy, right?” You ask, voice cracking a bit with the heavy weight of what closing the door on the apartment for the very last time had done to you that morning. “I mean, I know I’ve been miserable for…” You scoff, “a really long time so shouldn’t I feel something other than heartbreakingly sad?” 

Jade tips her head so it rests on your shoulder, a humming sound playing at the back of her throat. “You’ve been with him for a long time, of course you’re going to be heartbroken. Youu’re doing the right thing though, I promise you. He couldn’t even stop playing that stupid video game long enough to support you last month!” 

You nod, memory flickering back to the fight in the hallway in front of Max. You hadn’t heard much from him in the weeks since that night aside from a few texts here and there and you had expected that. He probably was mortified at how you had behaved, embarrassed for you that you had allowed yourself to be treated that way in front him.

You wouldn’t have blamed him if he thought you were a weak little girl who deserved the treatment Lando doled out to you. It was the only way you could rationalize his silence. Seeing how far you’d fallen, how much you’d changed, had obviously had an effect on Max and he had decided he’d seen enough. It didn’t surprise you and you didn’t blame him. Jade was one of your only remaining friends and losing yet another person you trusted and valued in your life was just another thing Lando had taken from you. 

“I’m just so glad you finally are taking your power back, love. I know it feels all wrong right now but when you go from the chaos that you’ve been living in for so long, I’m sure the calm of this apartment feels wrong. You’ll get used to it. It might take some time but you’ll get used to it.” 

Your head swivels around to look your best friend and you search her face for any sign of her lying to you. You desperately want to believe she’s right, that you’re making the right choice. You know you are, deep down in your soul, but you’ve been with Lando for so long and have spent so many nights listening to him rant and rave about how he’s the only one who could ever deal with your dramatics that you wonder if Jade is wrong and Lando is the one who’s been right all along. You don’t voice the doubts though, knowing that those kinds of things are something that you should probably keep to yourself. So instead of voicing all of the fears that are bouncing around in your chest, making it feel heavy and tight with the pressure of doing something that absolutely terrifies you, you just nod and lean further into Jade’s shoulder.

 “I know.” You whisper, staring out over the open living room that is littered with small boxes and suitcases. 

With the help of your brothers and Jade, you had started moving your things out slowly while Lando had been otherwise distracted. Just a small box of clothes and trinkets here and there, over the last month while Charles had the apartment renovated and cleaned. When it was finally ready last week, you had begun looking for furniture and making final plans. 

The timing had worked out perfectly, with the apartment finally being finished perfectly aligning with a weeklong trip Lando had planned to go to Woking to spend time in the sim at the MTC. He rarely bothered you during these working trips, hell he barely bothered you during any of this trips, but his work trips were different, so you knew you’d have a solid week to get everything that mattered to you out of the apartment before he would be any wiser. 

“He’s going to be so mad when he comes home and my things are gone.” You murmur, staring down at your phone which hadn’t received so much as a text message from him in almost 48 hours. 

You hadn’t bothered telling Lando you were leaving, that you were done with him. You shied away form confrontation on even the best of days so telling the man that you’d spent the last three years building a life together that you were leaving him was terrifying. When you had started moving small boxes out while Lando was still in town, you had half expected him to notice but that had never been a problem. He hadn’t even noticed you leaving on several occasions with boxes of your books or suitcases of clothes. 

A larger part of you had another reason for not telling him, though. You knew that if you told him before you were fully moved out he’d try to get you to stay. He’d try to convince you that things would get better, that this time would be different. All the things that he’s said before when you spent the night crying over his neglect. And you knew you’d fall for it. You knew you’d go running back to him if you didn’t get out before he found out. Lando was persistent and an expert manipulator, you knew that and you still fell for it over and over again so this time you were trying to give yourself the chance to put yourself first and not fall back into his trap. 

“He’s going to learn his lesson when he comes home and finds that you’re finally moving on.” Jade says, tone firm but still gentle. She knows what it’s like to be in a relationship like you have with Lando and when you had called her that morning last month to tell her you were finally leaving him, she had decided she was going to make sure she’d do everything in her power to keep you from going back to him. Getting you unpacked and settled in your new apartment was a huge step forward, one Jade hadn’t been sure you would end up following through with. 

You nod, hoping she’s right but you have a feeling deep in your gut that when Lando gets back into town tomorrow morning he’s not going to see it that way. He’s going to be angry and he’s going to try to get you to come back home to him. 

Looking around your new apartment though, you feel something settle in your bones that you haven’t felt in a very long time. It’s a feeling of attachment to this place. Like if you’re careful and thoughtful, this little apartment tucked away in one of the most exclusive buildings in Monaco could be the best opportunity you have for getting your life back on track. You could heal here, you can feel that in the way the sunlight spills through the windows in the living room, in the way your anxiety allows you to breathe when you stand in the kitchen surrounded by things that you bought yourself, and in in the way you feel when you settle yourself on your brand new bed that will have never shared an intimate moment between you and Lando. Those memories have all been left behind and this new apartment seems like the perfect place for a new beginning. 

As Jade comforts you on your couch, your brother is across town arriving at the Monaco Sports Club where he has a game of padel scheduled with Max that afternoon. He had offered to cancel on him this morning when you spoke to him on the phone, saying that your first full day in the apartment was more important than any padel game, but you had insisted that he keep his game. You had wanted a bit of space to breathe from your brothers, who you knew meant very well and you were very grateful for but sometimes, the three men got to be a little suffocating. So, against his better judgement, Charles had skipped coming over that afternoon in favor of hanging out with Max. 

Max hasn’t stopped thinking about that night last month when he witnessed Lando being needlessly cruel to you. He had every intention of calling Charles that night, had every intention of telling him how the British driver was actually treating you but something had stopped him. He had needed a little more time to process everything that he saw. Max knew that Lando could be an asshole but he never could have guessed that he would have treated you the way he did that night he brought you back to the apartment. It had shaken him and it had taken him a bit to figure out exactly how to approach it with Charles because he knew if Charles really knew how Lando had been treating you, Lando might not make it to the next race alive. Because while everyone knew the relationship was toxic and Lando wasn’t a good boyfriend, no one really realized just how bad it had gotten until Max saw behind the curtain that night of the art show. 

When Max had invited Charles to play padel today, he had finally decided to tell him what had gone down that night. It had taken so long because Max kept waffling between ‘this is none of my business’ and ‘she’s everything’ but when he spotted Charles walking through the padel courts towards him, Max was surprised at how happy Charles looked. 

“You look happy.” Max observes before giving his friend a hug. 

“Oh, it is a very good day, mon ami.” Charles is practically glowing as he smiles over at his long time friend. 

Max lifts a brow, it’s been a while since he’s seen Charles look this optimistic and he wonders if it has something to do with you. 

As if Charles reads his mind, he continues, “We finally got the apartment finished and as of this morning, she’s fully left that piece of garbage.” A smug smile plays at the corner of the Ferrari driver’s mouth. 

The relief that washes over Max is surprising. He hadn’t realized how truly worried he was for your well being until that moment. The guilt that sets in though has his chest aching. How could he have gone so long without saying something to someone about what he had seen that night? Max carefully weighs his decision that he had been so set on just moments before. If you’ve already left Lando and are settling into your apartment, does Charles really need to know what happened that night? It would only cause more drama and Max knew that more drama and anxiety was the last thing you needed. 

In a split second decision that he knows could come back to haunt him, Max decides to keep quiet for now. 

“That is the best thing I’ve heard all day.” With a genuine grin, Max bounces the padel ball against the floor. 

Charles beams back at him and Max can almost see the stress that his friend has been carrying around recently melting away from his features. He had known that your brother was worried about you, had known your entire circle, or what was left of it, was worried but now that this was really happening, Max could practically feel the relief rolling off of Charles in waves. 

“You’re telling me.” Charles mutters before walking to the other side of the court to get the game started. 

Max hadn’t meant to end up in your old neighborhood, truly he hadn’t. He had been on a run the morning after playing padel for a few hours with Charles when he passed the bakery that was a few blocks from your old apartment. He hadn’t meant to come this far but the pressures of the season were starting to get to him as they usually did around this time of year and he had needed extra time to clear his head. The fact that he couldn’t seem to get you off his mind either plagued him the entire run too. The way you had felt pressed against his side as he walked you home that night last month, the way your cheeks flamed with humiliation as Lando had laid into you in front of him when he walked you to your door, everything about you seemed to be invading his thoughts and it worried him. 

It worried him because he couldn’t let you get under his skin like this. He knew it was a dangerous game he was playing, knowing what you’ve been through and allowing himself to wander down that road. He was just happy you were safe now and hopefully you would start to get that spark back that he knew you still had in you. Everything else would have to wait. 

So when he passed the bakery you had pointed out as your favorite the night he had walked you home, he couldn’t help but follow his feet inside. The smells of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries washed over his senses as the bell above the wooden door jingled, announcing his arrival. He knew exactly what he was looking for before the woman behind the counter even asked and before he was able to second guess his decision, Max was walking out of the bakery moments later with half a dozen of what he knew were your favorite almond croissants. 

A housewarming gift, he told himself. Because what other way should Max welcome his newest neighbor to the building where he had lived for the last two years? He knew these were your favorites and if he had to guess, wandering back into your old neighborhood just for some carbs was probably at the bottom of your ‘to do’ list right now, even if they were heavenly pieces of baked bread and sweet almond filling. 

While Max made his way back across town, laden down with a large pink bakery box, you were just getting out of bed and starting your day. Anxiety, a feeling that seemed to be your constant companion lately, sits heavy on your shoulders as you move around the new apartment. The quiet hush that blankets the small space is different than the stifling silence you're used to in your apartment with Lando. It was unnerving to say the least but if you allowed yourself to pause for even just a moment, you could almost feel your soul breathing a sigh of relief. 

That wash of contentment is short lived though when a knock at your front door sends your heart rate spiking through the roof. You know that Lando was going to be home today but didn't know what time. It didn’t even cross your mind that there was no way it was him outside your door because he simply didn’t know where you had moved to but just the thought of someone who you weren’t expecting waiting for you and the possibility that it could be your now ex-boyfriend had you spiraling. 

Reaching for your phone, you pull up the security system app that Charles had insisted you get installed, despite the fact that this was a very well secured building with its own doorman downstairs 24/7. The person standing outside your door has confusion knitting your brow together. 

Pancake ingredients forgotten, you pad towards the door shuffling through various emotions: relief that it isn’t Lando waiting for you on the other side, apprehension about seeing the person that was patiently waiting in the hallway for you, and a bit of relief that you hadn’t lost this person like you thought you might have. 

“Max, what a pleasant surprise.” You murmur when you swing the door open. 

In front of you, the Dutch driver is dressed for a workout in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, his blond hair covered in a backwards baseball cap. You’re surprised at the shimmer of pleasure that works its way up your spine when he smiles at you but quickly squash the feeling, remembering the pity on his face as Lando had yelled at you that night he walked you home. 

“I was on a run this morning and remembered you saying this bakery was your favorite. I thought I’d bring you some almond croissants as a sort of ‘welcome to the building’ present.” 

Warmth spreads through your belly at the gesture and you hold the door open to welcome Max into the apartment. “Welcome to the building?” You ask, confused. 

Max grins back at you, rubbing at the back of his neck as he follows you to the kitchen. “I live up in the penthouse. I moved in about two years ago.”

Surprise flickers across your face. When you started dating Lando, your friendship with Max had grown distant so it shouldn’t shock you that you didn’t even know where your friend lived. “Oh, I didn’t realize.” You whisper, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach. 

Max watches you bustle around the kitchen, decidedly avoiding eye contact with him. For a few moments he just observes you, trying to decide if he should leave or push. Charles had mentioned yesterday that you were nervous about living alone and Max wanted to make sure that you were okay. He knew he should probably leave you alone to continue to settle it, with it being only your second day in the apartment alone, but there was something keeping him rooted to the spot where he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

 “Are the almond ones still your favorite?” He asks, shattering the silence that had settled over the room. He knows you’re easily spooked now and Max desperately wants you to be comfortable about him. Maybe if he distracts you from whatever storm is brewing in your head, you’ll open up a bit. 

His patience is rewarded with the first unguarded smile he’s seen from you in a long time. “I can’t believe you remembered.” You laugh, reaching for one of the croissants in the open box. 

“You used to put these things away like nobody’s business when we were younger.” 

The blush that creeps across your cheeks has Max gripping the edge of the counter. The two of you fall into a comfortable conversation of safe topics, mostly about your new apartment and how Max’s cats are doing. You like this, the way you feel around him but you can almost feel your body bracing for the other shoe to fall. You keep waiting to have something stupid slip out of your mouth, causing Max to berate or make fun of you. 

Much to your surprise it never happens though and you spend the next hour talking through memories of when Charles and Max were fighting it out on the karting tracks when you were younger. Max remembered you well from those days, how you would beg to tag along with him and Charles and the older boys. 

The sun sits high in the sky when your phone start buzzing loudly on the counter. At first you ignore it, too lost in the conversation you and Max are having, the way he is so attentive to everything you have to say and how he asks you questions like he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. You don’t want the attention he’s giving you to end but when your phone starts buzzing for the fifth time in a row, you get up off the couch to retrieve it. It was probably just Charles checking on you, you hand’t heard from him all day after all. 

Your heart sinks and your stomach churns when you see the caller ID though. “Fuck.” The whisper that tumbles off of your lips is broken and harsh, causing Max’s head to snap towards where you’re leaning over the counter, forearms braced on either side of your phone. 

“Everything okay?” Max gets up off the couch to join you in the kitchen, concerned over the way you’ve suddenly gone white as a sheet as you stare down at your phone like it’s about to reach up and strangle you right there in the middle of the room. 

In the couple of hours that you had spent catching up with Max, you had completely forgot that Lando was due to get home soon. “I guess Lando has discovered I’m gone.” The way your voice shakes has Max’s heart squeezing. 

“He doesn’t know you moved out?” 

“Well he does now.” You quip, nervous chuckle falling from your lips. The text messages came in first, it looked like. Nearly a dozen of them and as you scroll through the messages, your face heats. Of course this is going to happen with Max here. Why is he always a witness to your humiliation?

Where are you? Why is the closet half empty, where are all your clothes? Baby, why is your treadmill gone? And your Peloton?  Where the FUCK are you??? ANSWER ME NOW WHERE ARE YOU??? DID YOU LEAVE ME THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY YOU’RE DOING THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE NOW COWARD

Shortly after the messages stop, the calls start. You stare down at the phone as Max watches as call after call comes through. 

“You don’t have to answer him.” Max murmurs, coming to stand right next to you. You have to resist the urge to lean into his warmth, to collapse against the quiet strength that rolls off of him in waves.

“It’s only going to get worse if I don’t.” 

“Does he know where you are?” 

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill over. Why was this all happening right now? You knew you were safe, that he had no idea where you had moved to but just the thought of being in the same city as him when he was this angry is enough to have the panic threatening to strangle the breath straight out of your lungs. 

“Then you’re safe. He wouldn’t ever do anything to put his career in danger, Dovie.” 

You have to laugh at the statement because it’s so true. Lando would never do anything to put his career on the line. He’d do whatever it took to keep you in line under his thumb, no matter how mean he had to be to control you but when it came to his career? His first love? He’d never do anything to put his seat in question and you knew that. You had always come second to racing and what Max said was the total truth. 

Max watches you shrink into yourself as the calls continue to come in, one after another, and he knows he has to do something. He glances at the time and instantly gets an idea. “I was supposed to go to dinner with Danny in an hour. What if you leave the phone here for the night and come to dinner with me?” He pauses, seeing the panic flicker across your face. “With us. Come to dinner with us.” He corrects quickly. “I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free too? It’s been a while since we’ve all had dinner together.” 

Your eyes drop down to the phone, now quiet for the moment, and weigh your options. You know you’re not ready to talk to Lando but the fact that you’re ignoring him makes you feel like a coward. You’re going to have to speak to him sometime but maybe it was okay if you put if off for a few more days. Dinner out with Max, Daniel, and your brother sounds so appealing but you still hesitate. 

“Come on, Dovie. You can’t spend the whole night starting at the phone. He’s going to keep calling and it’s not good for you to be alone right now.” 

The pain that slices through your heart at the gentle coaxing Max’s tone takes on is almost unbearable. Why is he always the one to see you laid so bare, so vulnerable? 

“How did I let this happen, Max?” Your voice breaks, soft and uncertain as you turn into Max’s waiting frame. Without hesitation, Max’s arms circle around you and he pulls you deeper into his chest. Something settles in him then, almost like he’s relieved you’ve allowed him in. The way you shake while he holds you has his chest aching and he’d really like to give the McLaren driver a piece of his fucking mind right about then, but he knows that’s going to have to wait for now. You’re much more important. 

“You were in love, schatje and that’s okay. You trusted him and he broke that trust. It’s not a reflection of you, sweet girl, its a reflection of him. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

You sob quietly into his chest, soaking his t-shirt through with your tears as the dam finally breaks. Humiliation threatens to drag you under but you allow Max’s words to resonate through you. They soften the sharp edges of your heartache and regret, knowing that someone like Max, who you respect and have known for nearly your entire life, doesn’t think this entire thing is your fault. You sink into his warmth, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, allowing his steady breath to ground you. 

Max just stands there, a quiet pillar of strength that he can feel you desperately need right now. Hr murmurs quiet reassurances to you as you cry against him, slowly rocking you back and forth. “Come on,” Max coos, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Go take a shower and then lets go to dinner. I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free. You haven’t seen Danny in ages, right? It’ll be good to get out.” 

Dragging in a deep breath, you hold the air in your lungs until they pinch. “Okay.” 

With one last look at your phone, you turn away and walk down the hallway, leaving Max starting at your phone which has finally gone quiet. For several moments, Max just stands at the counter in the kitchen, unable to move. Relief floods his veins when he hears the shower start though and he knows that you’re finally making a small step towards getting out from under Lando’s control.

@shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164

[sweetshuga]

𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝟣𝟢 ✧ 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

𝒘𝒄. 𝟩𝟧𝟥

𝒑𝒔𝒂. English is not my first language! 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔⚠ best friends, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, degradation kink, hand/veins fetish, pet names, strong language.

You and Chris made it your mission to make each other Christmas presents before, well, before Christmas day. However, all you had been able to focus on is the way his long fingers worked with the various DIY supplies on the table, his veins showing clearly in the bright lighting of the kitchen. You couldn’t help but imagine his hand in between your thighs, working you towards another orgasm—

"You listenin’?" your eyes snapped up to his face, a warm feeling rushed up to your cheeks from embarrassment as he stared at you with cocked eyebrows. "Y-yeah, what did you say again?" you cursed internally at how badly your voice and words betrayed you. Chris’ confused expression turned into an amused grin, "oh, so you weren’t listenin’? and here I was talkin’ and talkin’ about how much I wanted to cuddle with ya and watch movies."

Your eyes widened and immediately lit up, "seriously? you’ll seriously do that again?" You asked knowing you two watched movies and cuddled just yesterday, and he nodded, chuckling at your expression. You and Chris are best friends, he had made it clear years ago that he didn’t want anything more with you so all you could do was imagine his veiny hands in between your thighs—

"C’mon, angel, you’re zoning out a lot today, not in the mood to make ’em?" he gestured to the DIY supplies scattered across the table and your project in your hand. You quickly shook your head, "n-no, I was just thinking about how good your fingers would feel inside me..." you spoke too quickly, too fast to process your own words and when you did, it died down to a mere whisper. Your eyes widened and jaw dropped, matching his expression.

"Y’wanted this huh? My fingers fucking your desperate pussy?" he groaned aloud as he increased his pace on his hand, his fingers pistoned in and out of your sopping cunt, the wet squelching sounds growing louder along with your moans. Your back arched when he curled his fingers, rubbing that spongy spot while keeping the same fast pace, your eyes nearly rolled back as you held onto his wrist, trying to slow him down.

"That’s right, show me how much you like my fingers, such a fuckin’ slut ain’t you? Imagining me fingering you, punishing you." His words only added to the pleasure and your nth orgasm crashed over you quite quickly, your body shook as high pitched mewls exited your parted lips. "Juuust like that, fucking desperate whore, cummin’ on my fingers so many times." He laughed, his pupils dilated with desire as he kept finger-fucking you through your high.

"Chris—too much, oh fu—ck," you cried out, your hips threatening to lift off the bed as he didn’t stop, but he held it flush down onto the mattress with his free hand and immediately started to crook his fingers upwards and fuck you faster. Your body burned with the sheer amount of orgasms, but you could feel something big approaching and at first, you mistook it as the need to piss.

Your eyes widened and you tried to warn him, "Chris– Chris, I’m gonna pe—" his hand left your pelvis and slapped onto your mouth, effectively silencing your words and pulled out his fingers—only to shove them back in and fuck you fast with it. Your body squirmed and moved, but his hand was always there, following your body. He slipped his fingers out and rubbed your clit furiously and your body tensed as shudders wracked it.

Your eyes rolled back completely as your hips jerked with each wave of arousal squirting out of you, your hands scrambled up to clutch onto his hand that was over your mouth. You let out a high pitched sound into his hand when he resumed his pounding with his fingers. You slapped his hand, over your mouth, repeatedly when you felt that feeling of gushing again as more liquid sprayed out of you, your body thrashed on the bed.

Chris’ hand finally relented, rubbing your clit in gentle circles, making your body twitch from sensitivity and eliciting whimpers from you. "No more," you whined, your hands coming down to hold onto his wrist in a futile attempt to stop him. "Oh? No more? But I wanna see that again, I wanna see you fuckin’ soaking my hand..." he trailed off, his fingers slowly slipping back into your weeping hole. "One more, gimme one more," he cooed, his fingers starting to move again.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @h3arts4nat @thebigbadwolfahoooo @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @courta13 @slag2 @bumbl3b34 @slut4chris888 @chrissluttyygf @billiesbabya @chrissbows @kaybug88 @sturniolo-fann @itsmaddielouis @urfavppls133 @certified-sturniolo @emkhlo @madisonsls @sammy1z @friendlyneighborhoodemo @layvvy @bellabooxx333 @wh0remikasas @ja75ahm @hearts4werka @miabumbia @slut4music @plrlvssnz @hannahhsturn1oloo @sturninsworld @idkwuttopit @madssturniolo @devilese @thatsitsthings @pr3ttyf4wn @stvrnioloslvt @d3adfa1ry @valsenoj @maddie-2024 @fallingforfalll2 @sagesturns @alicesturns @ccsturns @slxt4chriss @sturniolosfr3shl0v3 @slvtf0rchr1s @poopysturniolo @pinktalearcade @clumsycunt @rhaine720 @halfbloodwriter

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒂

[keyaho]

summary: nami joins a bdsm community in hopes of finding a dominator/partner. she manages to snag Terry Richmond the most sought after and picky dominant in the community of their city.

short warnings: throat fucking, praise kink, size kink, slight voyeurism, teensy objectification

Taglist: @zillasvilla @heauxvibez @harmshake @kuromiish

dividers/warning graphics by @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics images found on google, template on canva

“How do you feel about me dressing you?” He asked, his eyes were bright as they sat in a bar catered to those of the BDSM lifestyle. 

The Munch had long been over, but Terry’s interest in her had stayed. When he told Nami where to meet him for the first time she was hesitant. Taking the ‘relationship’ offline was frightening and made it real. 

She sat across from him in a yellow milkmaid dress, bare of jewelry, and flats; an ode to the 2000s, because what the fuck? Her hair was up, the brown curls pulled back to show her face and neck. He requested a manicure and she opted for ballerina pink polish on her natural nails. Same with her feet. He couldn’t see them, but she was fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Everything she had on was of his choosing, delivered to her yesterday afternoon with a note. 

No panties. - T

“It’s not exactly my style, but I like the color yellow.” She admitted. 

Terry’s eyes crinkled around the corners as he laughed, full lips stretching over white teeth. 

“The point is to keep wandering eyes away from you.” He admired the way yellow made her brown skin glow. “Yellow is your color.” He stated. “Remember that.” His voice deepened suddenly, ‘come here.” 

She stood up, their little corner table sat to the right of the bar, her back to the bustling crowds coming in and out. She approached him slowly, his eyes eyeing her form and the way the dress stopped in the middle of her thighs. He leaned back in his chair, and pushed her hands to her sides. His hand slipped between her legs, rubbed up the back of her knee and thigh. His eyes stayed on hers, forcing eye contact as his palm cupped her ass, her bare cunt brushing against his wrist. 

“Have you gone without them before?” He asked. 

”No, first time,’ she admitted. 

Terry brought his hand down, discovered she was wet, and began rubbing her slowly leaking hole. “How does it feel?” 

Her face went flush, cheeks hot as she tried to find the words to speak. He had a smirk on his face and knew what he was doing was causing her to lose concentration. 

“G-go-good.” 

Terry dropped his hand and motioned for her to sit back down. 

“Through the nose,’ he instructed. “Inhale.” 

His large hand rested against her bare chest, the other guided his heavy and long dick past her tongue. He felt her chest rising and falling in rapid anticipation and still his movements. She couldn’t see them, his eyes, from her position. Back against the couch's arm rest he made her lean back over it, legs spread, and hands bound behind her back. Law & Order SVU played silently on the tv and if Olivia knew what this man was doing to her she’d call Stabler in for back up. 

For a moment he just watched how she tried to calm herself down so she could take him into her mouth this way. Deep throating was his favorite.

Nami had met him on a site called Fetlife. Her curiosity about BDSM had led her to creating an account she visited on the weekends in the privacy of her home. She explored her novice sexuality and a month ago met him there. A faceless profile she had ignored because no face to the profile was a red flag. 

He pulled from the warmth of her mouth, saliva coating her nose and eyes from an early attempt. 

“Maybe you need an incentive.” Terry hummed. “Something else to work for until my pleasure is yours.” He stepped back from the couch, disappearing from her blurry sight. 

There was some shuffling in another room. What sounded like zippers and slapping made her ears perk up. 

“Nami,’ he called. 

Her head turned at the sound of his voice. “Yes, Sir?” She croaked, her throat felt full though nothing was in it. 

She could only reply with that phrase or her safe word. Stone. Either he had permission or he didn’t. He didn’t care for that inbetween shit. Until she called for it her body was his to do what he willed. 

Naked, Terry walked over and ran a finger from her navel up between her breast, beneath her chin, and tapped at her lips. Her mouth opened and he shoved his middle and ring finger against her tongue. She tasted latex as his thick fingers stroked backwards. Her chest heaved. Terry pressed his other hand to her chest, subduing her movements. 

“You better breathe through that fucking nose!” He growled. “If you throw up on my hand I will wear that ass out and send you home.” 

Their appetizers had arrived first. He ordered for the table and Nami was pleasantly surprised it was just stuffed mushrooms and not oysters. He plated hers first, sliding it across the table with a fork on a napkin to her. Her water sat, half drunk, with the lemon slowly floating to the bottom. She was starting to feel like that lemon, drowning in Terry’s scent and demanding demeanor. He wasn’t ‘on’, but it felt like it. How could someone be so naturally dominant? 

“You eat, I will talk. I want you to take in what I’m saying before you respond, okay?” He prompted. “It would be best if you answer according to the way I requested. I don’t like wasting my breath and time and I want to know you are listening. Active recall, understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good.” He looked down at her plate then back to her face. “Eat.” 

A few bites into the mushrooms and her stomach was starting to feel better. The nerves she had were currently battling the mushroom and Parmesan breaded coating. 

“I’m not an easy Dominant.” He breathed in deeply before letting it out. “I do this for pleasure of course, but when it becomes a chore then I have to reassess. I don’t expect perfection, but I require competence.” 

She reached for her water, needing to cool down the flames burning between her legs. She knew this much from his profile. 

“I have rules and expectations. There are also levels and lessons to be learned. With your naivety there are many things I can teach you and do to you. I will push your boundaries.” He saw she stopped eating and was actively listening to him, but there was a question in her eyes. “Ask me,’ he prompts. 

She furrowed her brows and with a voice barely above a whisper looked down at her food. “I thought it was just really intense sex?” 

“Getting fucked is a privilege. Me indulging in your kinks is a reward for doing what I say and want. You are here for me and not the other way around, understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Terry had explained that if any time she was not enjoying herself she could leave and he would end their arrangement. That she did not want. However, his posturing was intimidating. He was a man of control that wanted control. 

He pushed his fingers as far as they would go and held them there. Nami’s legs snapped shut and the sensation wetting her cunt and staining the white material with moisture caused her to moan. 

“Open those legs and be still.” 

An ungloved hand came down on her outer right thigh. Stinging she cried out almost gagging up the dinner she had before coming over. 

“Sit up.” 

Nami struggled against the fingers in her mouth. Terry cupped the back of her head and guided her, still fucking her mouth in a steady pace. Tears were spilling from her brown eyes, the sight tightening a knot in Terry’s abdomen. He pulled his hand out and rubbed the spit against her chest. His grip on the back of her head tightened and he adjusted her to sit on the couch, legs spread. 

“We’re going to try this again.” He pulled off the glove and tossed it aside. “When I push you swallow.” 

“Yes Sir.”

“When I pull out you breathe.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good girl,” he smiled and the sudden change in demeanor caught Nami off guard. 

“I came on a little too strong, hm?” 

He gripped the base of his dick, stroking it against her lips as he stared down at her. 

“Open.” His fat tip bounced against her mouth. She followed his instruction and he pushed the head just past her lips. “Suck me off.” 

Her mouth was wet and nearly numb as she slurped his dick into her mouth. Heavy on her tongue she took as much of him in as she could. His hand stayed in her curls, grabbing her head tightly. Terry was thick and long. She wasn’t sure how he carried it around. Dick was all she could see when she came over. The thick behemoth between his legs had called to her all night and when he finally pulled it out for her to see he denied her permission to touch. 

“The only thing you can use tonight is your mouth.” He watched her undress, the cuffs hung off his fingers. “That’s to suck my dick, safe word, or what?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

Nami had to admit all of him was overwhelming. His attractiveness, his gait, his gaze, but it was his boundaries that scratched at an itch in her brain.  She knew her rules for the night.

His scotch permeated the air and wet his lips as he sipped it. Seconds later he tossed it back, the glass landing on the coffee table with a soft thud. 

When she had arrived the first thing he did was instruct her to bend over. He stood behind her and lifted her dress, her bare ass flashed him before his hand came down in a teasing slap. Couldn’t help myself. He had said. 

Terry interrupted her recalling with a hard shove of his dick past the back of her tongue. Her nose pushed against the dusting of pubic hair around his base and she struggled against the binds on her hands and the grip on the back of her head. 

“Breathe.” He demanded. “Calm down and breathe for me.”  

Through teary eyes she looked up at him. His face was expressionless as he looked down at her. It took her a few seconds but she began to swallow. It was hard at first. He was so hard already. She had to find the willpower to hold off her vomit. He began to move slowly, pumping his hips forward and back inch by inch until she had a rhythm to match his. 

“Look up at me," he said slowly, "let me see you suck my dick like a good girl.” 

She wanted so badly to touch him. But he left her wrists cuffed behind her back. Her shoulders were beginning to burn from the position and even bending them was a strain to hold. Her eyes were blurry and visionless at this point, but she turned them up to him. All she could hear was his heavy controlled breathing. Precum began leaking from his tip and on a slow drag out she tasted it on her tongue. He paused. She swallowed. 

“Look at that,’ he cooed, ‘opened that shit right up. You want to please me don’t you, baby, hm?” 

He pulled out just to hear her speak, though the large gasp of air and outpour of spit from her lips was a much prettier sight. It all landed on her chest, coating her chocolate colored nipples in a mixture of him and her. Filthy. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He guided her head back and she opened her mouth for another onslaught, but he took his time. Sliding across her tongue in a a mocking way. His hips would jerk back as she tried to close her mouth around him. He could see the slight agitation on her spit covered face as he played in her mouth. 

He thrust forward and though there was a little retch in her throat, she took him fully. Terry held her head still, enjoying the clenching of her throat around his dick. He could feel the air from her nose being sucked in and released against his lower abdomen.. Between her legs, the same was happening as her pussy clenched around nothing, but dripped down to the floor, dripping like a slow leaking faucet. 

Terry pumped his hips, chasing his pending orgasm. Her knees dug into the floor, trying to balance herself as he clutched her head in his hands. Her curls were tangled around his long fingers as he pistoned his hips, fucking her mouth to his pleasure. 

“Imagine the ways I could fuck that pussy,’ he said, while stroking her throat. “Such a good girl,’ he added, ‘I just might reward you tonight.” He murmured, while licking his thick lips. The praise made her gulp around his dick and it jumped in her mouth. 

Terry yanked back, balls clenched as he grit his teeth together. The sudden squeeze against his already sensitive tip made his toes curl into his carpet. A low curse on his lips. She was a visual mess and Nami used the time his dick was hanging in front of her face to breathe. 

“You trying to make me nut already?” 

Nami coughed but smiled slightly. She was sure she looked crazy. 

“Get back on the couch.”

Terry lifted her by her hair and turned her to face the couch. She moved to the couch before Terry stopped her and sat her in front of it. 

His hand smacked her cheek lightly breaking her from her delirium. 

“Talk to me, baby. How are you feeling?” 

Nami was hoarse and breathing heavy. She blinked through the blur and looked up at him, standing before her like he was some God seeking devotion. 

Her only reply? “Yes, Sir.” 

Terry smiled. “You just might earn more words.” He stroked his dick as he watched her, her saliva coating his hands as he swapped them.

Not liking the way she was positioned he moved her back to the couch, her head dangling over the side. Her blunt nails dug into the couch behind her back. Terry spread her legs, dragging two fingers through her swollen and dripping cunt. He brought them to his mouth and she watched him suck them clean with a satisfied hum. 

“The day I taste that pussy is the day I’ll know God is real.”  He came to stand behind her, dick flat on her face and his balls pressed to her forehead. “Spread your legs and open your mouth.”  

Terry pulled her back further, the arch making her hiss, and slid back into her mouth. He stilled and reached down, smacking her pussy a few times, enjoying the way her fat lips shook. Nami started to squirm and pulled against her binds. Observant, Terry began to move fucking into her throat at a slow pace. 

Ten minutes after the mushrooms, two bowls were placed in the table. Cacio e pepe. They both ate in silence for a few minutes, sharing looks across the table. He was trying to read her face and she was trying to avoid looking him in the eyes too much. In the photos he shared with her they were hazel, in the afternoon sunlight they were currently tipping the scales of blue. 

She nervously tapped her fork against the bowl, the ceramic creating a ringing sound. 

“What’s on your mind,’ he cut through the silence abruptly. 

“Do you have other submissives?” 

His lips turned downward for a millisecond and if she hadn’t been watching his lips she would have missed it. Terry placed his fork down and took a sip from his own glass, a long island. She could smell the alcoholic beverage from her side of the table. He was a drinker. An image of her sucking his dick as he drank flashed in her head and she snapped her legs closed. 

“I have done a few scenes.” 

In the local community he was a sought after dominate and tended to avoided play parties because he knew the outcome. They would clamor over their own feet for his attention, circling him like vultures on a dead carcass. 

The woman in front of him wanted more than that and he knew her question was leading. Not everyone could disconnect from their dominate after a scene. Some wanted the sporadic attention then go about their lives. What she wanted was a bit more domestic and monogamous. He knew that. Her little profile had that in bold letters at the top and bottom of her bio. Fetlife wasn’t the best place to find a dating partner and a dominate, but Terry could oblige. It had been a while since he had a partner. In more ways than one. The ex-Marine watched her finish her meal, his palms itching to touch her again. 

“You want a permanent situation.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Do you think it was smart using Fetlife?” He asked. 

“I’m hoping you aren’t going to make me look stupid for using it.” 

Terry’s lip curved upwards at her quick response. “We’ll see how your first lesson goes with me, compatibility in this area is important. It’s not a part of me that I can turn off.” 

His dick twitched in her mouth. 

Terry had one foot on the couch and the other between her legs, his hands gripped her head as his dick plunged in and out of her mouth. He was trying to edge himself, but she had learned quickly on how to breathe and it was difficult fighting against the squeeze of her throat. When she whined around him his control slipped. Terry rode her face, using one hand on the back of the couch to balance his weight. He brought her head towards his pelvis to met his thrusts, her gagging a melody as he hummed and chased his orgasm. When it was on the cusp his toes dug into the fabric of the carpet and floor. Elation spread through his long limbs, including the one choking his submissive. 

His submissive. 

His……

Terry let his body claim his submissives. There had been very few that could elicit a primal and feral response from him. He always sought his completion, wanting to cum on or in them but the woman in his clutches had to earn it and he was more than willing to teach her. However long it took. Until she was pliant and could read his body and knew what he needed so he could give her what she craved. 

She felt his balls tightening as they slapped against her chin. She wanted to badly to touch him, rub her hands up his thick thighs, grip the muscles of his ass to draw him deeper into her mouth. She wanted to swallow him whole in his entirety. Her body tingled at the thought of him chasing his heights. Used in a way she felt like a toy utilized for his pleasure. A good girl. 

“You’ve done so good,’ he grunted, yanking out of her mouth. 

She coughed, throat sore from the onslaught, but he held her head back, rapidly stroking his dick in front of her face. Thinking he was going to cum in her mouth, she opened it back up and stuck out her tongue. Terry laughed through his moans. 

“Nahhh,’ he grunted. “You have to earn that.” 

Thick, hot, ropes of his cum landed on her neck and chest. The sudden warmth made her jump but she relaxed as he covered her neck in his load. Heavy breathing between the two of them lasted long enough for his cum to cool on her skin creating that sticky feeling as it ran down her chest. Lips swollen, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, still tasting some of him. She would well until tomorrow night. 

He looked down between her legs, the floor was wet from her pussy leaking so much. Her inner thighs drenched and her clit swollen just waiting to be sucked on. He wanted to lie on his stomach in front of her as she was and lick her clean, but his restraint took him backwards to the guest bedroom. When he returned, she was still waiting for him, legs open and her body relaxed from being able to catch her breath. 

His aftercare was simple; a warm rag wiped the remnants of his cum on her body. Helping her up, he pressed their chests together while he un-cuffed her, her shoulders slumped forward and she whimpered in pain from being able to move them freely again. 

“Go get in the tub.” 

He had cleaned himself up she noticed. Black sweats and a matching shirt covered him from her would be wandering eyes. Following behind her, she noticed clothes on the bed, water, and a bottle of Tylenol. Once inside the steaming bathroom, she made her way to the tub, using the edge to get herself in. Terry helped her sit, and the hot water soothe the aches in her body. He checked in with her, asking if she was okay and what she did and didn’t like about their session. 

“Was I too rough?” He asked, thinking back to how he had spoken to her. He had gotten so lost in his element that he hadn’t been sure if she was okay with being spoken to that way. 

She shook her head, moving the water up so it splashed against her throat. Terry reached behind him for a bottle water he had brought into the bathroom. Uncapping it, he held it to her lips, needing no instruction she opened her mouth, swallowing the room temperature water with ease. 

“You did well,’ he hummed, hands dipping into the water and descending between her legs. “How close were you to cumming for me?” 

His middle finger slipped into her cunt, stroking a fire that hadn’t fizzled out yet. 

“So close,’ she sighed. 

He added his thumb, stroking her engorged clit in tandem with his strokes. “Hm.” 

Terry pulled his hand away and grabbed her throat. He pulled her in, lips dangerously close to hers. “But you knew not to?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He finally graced her with a kiss, his lips full against hers. Languidly, Terry kissed her and used his tongue to stroke his way into her mouth. Nami whimpered into his mouth, wanting so badly to grab him, but she had no permission to touch him. Not even out of scene. Everything about this arrangement was controlled. 

He pulled away with instruction. “Bathe and get to bed.”

Terry stood, leaving her in the bathroom and without the option to get herself off.

want more terry? check out : Operation Valor

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Although Bradley wasn't usually one for big gestures, he supposed he was when it came to you. Now he wanted the wife and the wedding and the honeymoon and all of it. Preferably sooner than later.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, 18+

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley had never been a big gesture kind of guy. He never really saw the point in it. He always figured it was easier to tell how much someone cared about you through their day-to-day interactions instead of the occasional over the top displays. 

He knew Natasha had his back by the way she simply helped him prepare for tonight by taking you out for drinks without asking too many questions. And he hoped she knew that the steady friendship he built with her was strong even though their birthday steak dinners and weekend morning runs weren't flashy. He felt similarly about Maverick, thankful that he knew where he stood with him once again without having to prove it.

But Bradley wanted you to know that he was going to love you forever by the way he treated you when you were alone together, and by the way he couldn't help but occasionally show off his romantic side. He knew you didn't need words written in the sky when he would prefer to pour his heart out to you in letters and emails, but he didn't want to simply propose by handing you his mother's ring either.

That's why he got your students to fold up the paper planes. Because he just couldn't help but both ask you to marry him and show you how much those letters changed his life at the same time.

"Bradley?" Your voice was breathy as he watched your eyes flick to the wall and then back to his face. "Paper planes?"

He smiled. "It's all the letters you and your class sent to me. You know... when you were looking for a Naval aviator to write back and answer a few questions? I guess a few questions turned into a lot more than that. And a simple correspondence with a gorgeous fourth grade teacher soon made me realize that you're the woman of my dreams. My pen pals changed my whole life." He gestured toward the wall. "Your students helped me fold them up yesterday."

"They did?" you whispered as he closed the distance to you before getting down on one knee.

"They did," he confirmed, looking up at your beautiful face as tears filled your eyes. "I love you. And I have something for you, Gorgeous." He swallowed hard. "It was my mom's." He held up the engagement ring that he remembered from his childhood but thought had been long ago buried with Carole. "I want you to have it. Unless you don't like it. It's from 1984, and it's definitely vintage, so I won't be upset if you tell me you'd rather have something more modern. Maverick was holding onto her engagement ring for safekeeping." He knew he was rambling, but now that it was time to say the most important words, his nerves were taking over. "I had no idea until he heard me talking about how desperately I want to marry you."

"Bradley," you gasped, chest rising and falling rapidly with emotion as a tear streaked down your cheek. "Are you serious?"

He was serious. He was in love. He wanted this forever. "Will you marry me?"

You didn't make him wait long to see your beautiful smile and hear your calming voice. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Bradley."

You started to drop down to your knees, and he caught you along the way as your lips met his. He could feel you everywhere. Your arms around his neck were familiar, and so was your soft laughter and your kisses. But your words promising forever were new.

"I love you, Gorgeous," he swore between kisses. "I fucking love you, Baby."

"I love you, too," you whispered, cupping his face in both of your hands and kissing him. 

Bradley realized he was holding the ring tight in his hand and loosened his grip so you could really take a look. "Let me put it on your finger? Make it official?"

You nodded in excitement, and then Bradley had to blindly slide it into place as you kissed him relentlessly.

---------------------------------

Each of the paper planes taped to the wall was familiar to you. After so many months, you could tell which of your students had written the notes based on the handwriting. As you ran your fingers along the letters, you recognized your own handwriting there as well. The flickering candle light shone on the paper planes as well as the ring on your finger.

This was all so romantic. You never dreamed you'd be so thoroughly loved, but here you were with Bradley's lips on the side of your neck as he stood behind you, letting you inspect the message he hung up on the wall.

MARRY ME?

"In an abundance of detail, please explain to me how you managed to get my students to fold all of these up during Career Day without me noticing."

His deep rumble of laughter sent goosebumps along your skin. "You have to know by now who my regular accomplice is."

You spun around in his arms and kissed him as his big hands settled low on your hips. "Natasha can't be trusted," you whispered, gently running your fingers through his hair. "She's too loyal to you. But I know your strategy now."

"That's okay. I don't need her to be sneaky on my behalf anymore. Proposing to you was my main objective."

"Bradley," you whispered, smiling so much your face hurt. You examined the ring as you dragged your fingers through his hair. Part of you was still surprised by how the evening turned out, but he had been promising you from the very start that he was serious about you. "Bradley, you just gave me your mom's ring."

"Yeah," he grunted, running his nose along your cheek and ear. His breath was warm against your skin as he said, "We can pick out something else if you don't like it. The diamond is pretty small, because my parents got married when they were twenty-four. I think that's all my dad could afford, and-"

You silenced him with your lips on his. "It's perfect. Like you. I don't want anything else. Or anyone else."

Those big hands were on your butt now, and his body was snug up against yours as he kissed you so hard, you moaned. The living room smelled like all of the different candles at one time, and the lighting was kind of magical. And you realized you were engaged to the man you started to fall in love with before you even kissed him for the first time.

As soon as you took one small step toward the bedroom, Bradley followed your lead. You could tell he was excited as he scooped you up into his arms, and you kept yourself snug against him as he grew harder for you. Just as you ran your lips along his scars while he carried you through the bedroom doorway, his stomach growled so loudly, you started to laugh.

"You didn't eat dinner," you whispered, kissing him softly, trying to hold back the desire you felt.

"Baby, I have a whole plan," he replied, all smiles as you nipped at his lips until you landed on your back on the bed. "Dinner at Salvatore's is happening, but not until I fuck my fiancée."

You whined softly as he dragged your leggings slowly down, and you arched your back so he could remove your shirt. Then you watched him struggle to get undressed with his erection as you touched yourself. "You're taking me out for an engagement dinner?" you asked, running your fingers between your breasts and down your belly. He stumbled out of his jeans, eyes fixed on your body as you circled your clit with your middle finger.

"Well... maybe not," he grunted. "I should have thought this through a little better. Now I just want to keep you in bed."

The words were taken from your mouth and turned into a moan as he spread your legs apart and kissed you where you were touching yourself. "Bradley." Your fingers went to his hair as he teased and kissed his way up your body, letting you taste yourself on his lips and mustache.

"I love you, Gorgeous," he crooned, guiding the tip of his cock through your wetness until you were clenching with need. When you were ready for him, all you had to do was roll your hips up. When you were ready for more, he filled you up and didn't stop until you came.

--------------------------

"I should probably just try to get us a standing reservation," Bradley murmured, making you laugh as you were led to your table at Salvatore's. The two of you just finished a bottle of the overpriced wine you liked so much at the bar, and now you were looking up at him like you'd rather just go back home for round two of engagement sex instead of dinner. But he knew he wouldn't make it to that point until he ate something.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, grinning as you sat down when the waiter pulled out your chair.

As soon as you and he were both seated, you asked, "How exactly would you like me to look at my future husband?"

Your words left him a little breathless as he reached for your left hand which now displayed the ring that told everyone else you were going to be his wife. He couldn't stop touching you, and you were just as bad as your legs tangled with his beneath the table. "Maybe we should have made sandwiches at home."

Even mentioning food out loud made his stomach growl louder as he inhaled the delicious scent of pasta. "We'll be back home soon," you told him. "In the meantime, while we take a break from our engagement sex marathon, why don't we talk about our summer wedding?"

Bradley nodded as he laced his fingers with yours. "You know, I always wanted to try running a marathon, but I think I like this type even better."

"You can use the sex marathon as part of your training regimen."

The smile on his lips wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Maybe it was the same smile that had been there since the first time he looked at your photo. "Are you really going to agree to a summer wedding?"

"You told my students that's what you wanted," you replied immediately. 

"I owe your kiddos so much. If they didn't think I was cool as hell, I'd have gotten nowhere with their teacher. We should invite them to our wedding."

You laughed as Bradley waved down the waiter and ordered three entrees. He was still holding your hand as he told the guy, "And you may as well just bring some to-go containers out along with the food. We've been engaged for about two hours, so I'm getting a little antsy to get back home again. I'm sure you can understand."

"Congratulations," he murmured as you cradled your forehead in your right hand.

"Bradley," you half groaned and half laughed.

"What?" he replied, downing half of his glass of water. "He took one look at you and knows exactly why I can't wait to go home. Now can we talk more about wedding plans?"

You looked beyond amused and very pleased with yourself as you asked, "Do you really want a summer wedding?"

"Absolutely, Gorgeous Girl," he confirmed. "This year. Please don't make me wait."

You bit your lip for a few seconds before you said, "It's already February. That doesn't give us a lot of time. Unless..." Then the waiter returned with some bread, and you asked him, "Do you have a catering menu?"

He nodded. "I'll bring one out with your food and the containers."

Now you were the one tugging on Bradley's hand. "I have a great idea! What if we don't really have a wedding at all?"

His face fell as his lips parted silently. None of this really mattered before he met you, but now that he was here, he could clearly picture the day in his mind. "Baby, I want us to have a wedding day. A white dress and my uniform and flowers and wedding photos and all that shit."

"Bradley," you whispered, wrenching your hand free so you could drag your chair closer to his at the small table. Your palm was on his cheek, tilting his face so you could kiss him while you stroked his scars. "I didn't mean it like that." You kissed him again. "You give me these butterflies, and I swear I can't handle it," you whispered, running your nose along the side of his. "What if we have a simple wedding where we can invite my students? We can still do the dress and the uniform and as many photos as we want. But I think I know the best spot where we can have it all. And then we could go big on our honeymoon."

The wedding, the fourth graders, the honeymoon, the wife. Now he was smiling again. "Tell me more, Gorgeous. In an abundance of detail."

--------------------------------

If anyone saw the two of you, it would have been comical. It was dark out, and you were holding the bag of food containers and trying to unlock the door while Bradley held onto you.

"I think it's a little bit early to be carrying me into the house like this. Pretty sure that's for after the wedding."

"You can't blame me for being excited."

You pushed the door open, and even in the nearly dark house, you could still see the paper airplanes on the wall spelling out his proposal. "Are we keeping that romantic display where it is?" you asked as Bradley took you to the kitchen.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "For now. But I don't want them to get faded or anything like that. I'll flatten the letters out again eventually and find somewhere to store them."

You gasped as you unpacked the food containers and found something at the bottom of the bag. "They gave us an entire cheesecake!" It said Congratulations written in chocolate, and you bounced around in place as Bradley's arm wrapped around you. "That was so sweet of them."

He chuckled and whispered, "They know what they're doing. They have a loyal customer in my wife who always orders the expensive wine."

His fingertips brushed your neck before you felt his mustache there. "You already know I ordered it by accident the first time," you gasped as he sucked gently on the sensitive spot below your ear. "And I'm not your wife yet."

"Based on our tentative plans, you will be in a few short months," he murmured. "Now why don't we put the food away and go back to bed until Monday morning?"

"Monday morning?" you moaned. "You feeling ambitious?"

Bradley practically threw the food into the refrigerator. "My belly is full, you look hot, we're getting married, and we can take a break for cheesecake in a few hours. So yes, I'm feeling very ambitious, Gorgeous."

Your smile was coy, and your voice was low. "A few hours without a break?"

Bradley kissed your parted lips before tasting your tongue. "I want to get some practice in before our honeymoon. Isn't Paris the city of sex?" he asked with a smirk.

"The city of love!" you said, bursting into laughter as he hauled you toward the bedroom again.

"We'll make it both. I want to practice both."

It was always both when you were with him. He was sexy and sweet, his voice close to your ear as you had each other for the third time today. You already knew that all it took was the diamond on your finger to make you go a little wilder for each other. A deployment that ended with an engagement ring? You never wanted this feeling to stop.

The diamond sparkled on your finger as you tugged at his hair. He was so methodical with you. There was a sweet precision to everything he did which felt like the embodiment of his written letters. His voice was familiar and raw with emotion next to your ear as he filled you in every way. His lips were everywhere, praising you and drawing out your orgasm. Calling you the love of his life. 

"I need this forever, Gorgeous," he panted, fucking you harder. "I need you."

You were clinging to him, kissing his scars as you came. Then the two of you snuggled in bed and discussed your plans for the perfect wedding. 

Although there were more breaks for food and the cheesecake, he did in fact keep you very busy until Monday morning. You went to work exhausted, but you made a quick stop to ask your school administrator if your wedding idea was even feasible. The answer surprised you. Then you got yourself settled in your classroom where eighteen kids soon arrived, and Violet set off a ripple effect as soon as she gasped and asked, "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw give you a wedding ring?"

Jayden and Nia both came running over to your desk to see it. Henry shouted, "She got married! Knew it!" Jackie screamed into her hands about how the magical paper planes worked, and you had to stand and try to calm everyone down.

"I didn't get married! Yet. But Lieutenant Bradshaw asked me to marry him this summer, and I said yes, so I guess the magical paper airplanes did work."

Your classroom erupted into cheers and shouting as you smiled. Thank goodness you went out on a limb and decided to write to a US Naval Aviator. Thank goodness it was Bradley who answered. 

-------------------------------

Wedding and honeymoon up next? Then the epilogue? We're almost there! Anyone think they know where they'll have their wedding? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

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[strawbeelemonade]

ROMANTIC IMAGINE: Miguel O'hara visits you when you call in sick

i know how to write things other then headcannons i swear. theyre just so EASY. you can request actual fics lmao. promise! This was intended as romantic btw, but you can interperate this however you want!

WARNING: descripion of wounds/blood, description of burns, overprotectiveness,

Miguel lands on your balcony with a heavy thump, his landing was a little awkward from trying to swing with only one hand, but he managed well enough. The Tupperware in his hand looked a little worse for wear, though.

Almost every fibre of him wanted to turn around and forget about this, but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to, he needed to know you were ok.

You had called off sick from work yesterday, and you didn't show up today either. In all the time you were working at Alchemex you’ve never done that before. The secretary had told him you sounded like you were in a lot of pain over the phone, so it was obvious you were unwell in some way or another. He’s been worried ever since.

This felt stupid. Over dramatic, even. But he’d gone to his brother for advice, and this is what he had given him: Their moms classic Pozole recipe, The same recipe him and his brother ate while growing up. Obviously Miguel protested, adamantly. he hadn’t cooked for anyone in a very long time. He wasn’t even sure if he’d still be able to… His brothers response?

“Do you want my help or not?”

So Miguel scrounged around the kitchen for what he needed. He squinted to read his mothers old chicken scratch from all those years ago. He put in the work, as uncomfortable as he felt, And He packaged it and come all the way here.

And now he didn’t know how to go forward.

He had never felt more out of his element in his life. As he Stood outside your window with the soup in his freakish claws he realised he didn’t know where to go from there. He hadn’t thought further than this point. What would he say when he gave it to you? What would he even do after that?

He had to awkwardly shimmy through the window with the Tupperware in one hand, almost stepping on a cable stretching across the floor. “Fuck—“

the hinges creaking offensively as he pushed down your open window and he cursed, shutting it as delicately as possible. When he heard your voice ring out from behind him he tensed.

“Uh, Hey Miguel!” You call from the bathroom. He breathed out the puff of air he was holding in. No turning back now.

“…Hey,” he called, not knowing where to begin. “…I brought you a little something.”

He makes his way to where he heard your voice coming from, and pauses briefly by your kitchen counter. He looks down at the soup in his hands.

…He could just leave it here, that would be less humiliating for everyone, wouldn’t it? He knew you were ok, now. He heard your voice, so you were alive. He did what he came here to do. He could turn around right now and escape while you were still in the bathroom.

But something stops him. A little smell wafted by his nose briefly. It was brief. It was faint. But it was there and it made him pause.

So he sits the soup on the counter quietly, but he doesn’t turn around. He walks further down the hall and takes a deep breathe. The smell is clearer now. Miguel gets a bad feeling.

He picks up the pace and pulls off his mask to get a better whiff, and suddenly he’s hit with the all too familiar stifling stench of blood.

No.

NO!

“Y/n!” He runs up to your bathroom door and starts rattling the handle, but the door is locked. He pauses when he hears your voice on the other side, clearer and more effective at preventing him from tearing the door off its hinges—.

“D-Don’t come in!” You yell. “I’m... ngh- I’m a bit busy in here!”

“Y/n, what do I smell?!” He doesn’t need you to tell him, He already knows the answer. It’s pungency rings clear from his side of the door. The tanginess was so prominent that even someone with normal senses could pick up on it.

“N-nothing!” You stutter. You always stutter when you’re nervous. And when you're lying.

“Are you bleeding? Where’s it coming from? Open up!” He starts banging on the door again, his fist unintentionally rattling the frame.

“You don’t smell anything- stop that!” You snapped, annoyance ringing clear. But there was a certain strain to your voice, a painful whine that made his heart drop. “I-I’m just, uh- changing! will you give me a minute? Please, Miguel.”

“Don’t lie to me! What’s wrong, can you not get to the door?” He starts backing up to gauge the frame of the door and… Yeah, he could kick that in, easily.

sensing what he was getting ready to do, you spring up from your spot hunched over on the side of the bath tub and amble to the bathroom door. “No no no!” You lean against the door, heaving. “Don’t do anything drastic, I’m right here!”

He paused and waited for you to open it, but your hesitation makes him start losing his patience. “Y/n-“

“I’m ok, Miguel. S-seriously. I just took a little tumble on the way home.” You swallow back a painful grunt as you lean on the door frame for more support. “Look…” you started. “Now’s really not a good time—“

“Y/n.”

You shut your mouth. ‘Oh, shit.’

the tone of his voice hid a warning. Miguel knew what you were going to suggest even before you said it, and he refused to let you finish. The fact that you were bleeding as much as you were for him to smell you across the house, And you were trying to hide it from him? It must be bad, there was no doubt about that. His brain began racing for answers, for explanations, for names. He didn’t know where you were hurt, god what if it was somewhere vital? Who did this to you and where? Why were you trying to hide it? Did they threaten you? Something must of happened. there was no way he would leave you here, No. There was no getting rid of him now.

“Open this door.” He says one final time. And you can tell it’s the final time from the tone of his words. His voice quaked with fury at even the mere insinuation that he’d ever leave you when you were wounded. That you were even wounded In the first place.

“Now.”

...

There’s a beat of silence where neither of you say anything. And for a second he thinks he’s going to have to break the door open inwards just to avoid plowing over you to get it open. But then he hears you apprehensively turn the lock and he almost breaks the handle from how fast he rips it open.

You stumble a bit, reeling at his strength. and then youre taking a tumble from being thrown off balance, but before you can even yelp out a cry he swoops in to catch you in his arms before your body can even comes close to hitting the floor. “Lo si—! Sorry! Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

from being so close he could tell immedietely that you were running warm, did you really have a fever too? He perches you on to the toilet seat and you wince at the ache washing through your body. God, your back was killing you... and Miguel's hands were all over you. you tried pulling your arms out of his grip, but he wasn't budging. he scoured your front for bruises, cuts, anything.

"what happened, where does it hurt, Y/N, please." he lifted your arms, checking your sides. nothing there... You couldn't bring yourself to answer, all the jostling around was making you go really dizzy... so much so that his words seemed to bounce off your ears. you squint at him. were there two of him before?

"Oi, mami/papi. focus for me. tell me where your hurt." he pats your cheek, snapping you a little out of your stupor. you blinked. his faced was pulled taught with worry, lines creased his skin in places that looked almost painful. and his eyes...

"Miguel... hhhave... your eyessschanged?" you weren't sure if it was the delirium from the pain finally setting in, or if your bathroom light just highlighted the underlying hues, but his tired brown eyes had shifted to a shade of... dare you say red.

they flicked back to your face, they had this wild look in them, like he was angry. but his voice wobbled like he was scared. "tell me where the pain is."

"... M' back.." you mumbled. he tugs on your shoulder to twist you around, making you whine. he apologizes quietly, before turning back to the red stains that were crawling up the back of your shirt.

you both descended into a tense silence. Miguel looked cramped, hovering over you in your tiny bathroom. he had to draw in his arms to not knock into your shower. not the most ideal place to play nurse... but he would manage. Miguel unshealthes his talons and cuts open the fabric like its warm butter. all you feel is a cold draft hit your back, and you shudder.

when he gets a good look at the state of your back his heart drops, what he finds isn't what he was expecting. your lower back is marred with an explosion like mass of burned skin. the center of the wound is deeper and more bloody then the rest, like something fast, blunt and burning hot struck you there.

God.

"Y/N, what the hell happened?" he glances at your bathroom bin and spots your old, scorched shirt lying inside. so you really were changing... that explained why the shirt you were wearing didn't have a massive gaping hole in it.

"Lyla. whats the aetiology for this." she flickers into view next to him, screening your back, and she winces.

"the lascerations have been caused by 1st and 2nd degree burns, the wound has become infected and needs to be treated immediately. the depth of the wound is telling me that the collision was hard and fast, likely a projectile."

"they were shot?."

"most likely. not by any normal weapon though, obviously." she confirmed, "it... doesn't look like the infection has interfered with the spinal collum." she optimistically added.

"will it scar?" he tilted his head towards her, but didn't take his eyes off the wound.

the Ai assistant didn't respond, calculating the most nerve settling response to his question. her silence told him everything he needed to know. "yeah, don't answer that." a snarl was building in his throat, fighting its way to the top.

he spots the first aid bag and its contents sprawled across your counter. most of it was over the counter painkillers, light ointments and bandaids. nothing in there that would help you.

"ok." he drags his hand down his face looking around the room. "Hijo de puta-!" his fist banged against the wall in a burst of anger, the pathetic thin walls rattled underneath the force. "Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?!"

you were stuck in this apartment by yourself, barely able to move or, jesus, even think. the fact that he could have never come… No, that he had come but couldve left here without knowing you were going through this on your own... the thought made him sick. why did you let it get this bad? what had happened?

you don't answer his question, your breathing has started to grow heavier, fevered. the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck had grown thicker as well. miguel reaches out to hold you steady. his mind racing. you can't stay here.

he knows he has to make a call. literally. he lifts his watch to his face.

"Jess, get someone on the medical team to prepare for my arrival." he picks you up carefully and fights to keep his voice from rising, he wasn't thinking clearly. all he could think about was getting you somewhere safe.

it wasn't common for miguel to ask for medical assistance, even at times when he probably should. he didn't like calling for help, he prefered to do things on his own, even to his own detriment. the idea that something could shake miguel up like this, making him ask for assistance, was new. Jessica could hear the tension in his throat as clear as day.

"whats your condition." she responded, concern shining through in her voice.

"no, no. i'm fine." he answered. "i've got an injured with me, they've been shot and need first aid immedietely. its a second degree burn that been left for over 24 hours, its infected."

"...done." she answers. "are they a new recruit?"

"they're a friend."

Pozole: a traditional soup or stew that is made from hominy with meat, you can put in things like shredded lettuce/cabbage, chilli peppers, onions, garlic, radishes, avocado, salsa or limes. (this sounds scrummy ngl i'm so hungry bro)

"Lo siento": i'm sorry (this is when he goes "Lo si-" but cuts himself off)

"Oi, mami": hey, Mama (i learned that mami or mamita can be used in a lot of different ways. native spanish speakers can use it to adress parentel figures, friends that give motherly energy, or it can even be used as a funny nickname for kids. i've seen a lot of people use it sexually in fics, but apparently thats not always the case!)

aetiology: kind of like a diagnosis, but different. its the cause of a desease or condition. idk if it's applicable to wounds, though.

"Hijo de puta-!": son of a bitch-!

I put these here so if anyone has any corrections i could make to the terms I’ve used to be more accurate then I can change them accordingly. I used online translators and articles… if anyone has any good websites for translating languages let me know! i'd be really interested.

[pullupinarari]

The Secret of Us [LH]

I. Mistaken for Strangers

summary: a 5 chapter miniseries in which Lewis chooses you to coordinate one of his new projects, but the instant spark flicking between the two of you makes the professional lines grow a little blurry. do the both of you feel the same?

author's note: first chapter of this plot that has literally been living in my mind rent free for MONTHS. I am so excited to finally work on it and I had so much fun writing it! hope you girls enjoy it 🩷

• masterlist

wc: 9228 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

Wednesday, 9:42 am. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the space as you walk through the large corridors of the building, rushing to enter the meeting that was supposed to have started 12 minutes ago. 

Losing yourself in time, you got carried away in pressing ‘snooze’ on your phone, and the crazy traffic that seemed to swallow you in between the never-ending lines of cars didn’t help your case either. 

Your brain questions what this encounter is about - you just got a call from your boss yesterday, telling about how “a very important client” has demanded a meeting with you - refusing to give you any more details about it. Great, the only thing you know is that it’s a very important client, and you are starting off amazingly by showing up late. 

Slowly swallowing the coffee that you’re holding in your hands, you take a deep breath as if to calm down your thoughts, before your fingers push the door open. 

Your eyes scan the room briefly, already apologizing for being late as you start shaking hands with everyone at the office. There’s a familiar face in the middle of the group, one that stays behind everyone else, as if he is trying to adapt to the environment surrounding him. 

You know who he is, it would be hard not to. Even if you don’t pay much attention to sports, he is so much more than just a sportsman - Lewis Hamilton, the seven time formula 1 champion, is right in front of you.

Your gazes meet for a moment, while your hands connect in a professional hand shake. As soon as you get closer to him, feeling his touch in yours, it’s almost impossible for you to not grow a bit nervous - still trying to process the person that’s right in front of you.

Lewis knew what to expect when the door swung open. With a new project in hand, his team searched for the best of the best in the field, trying to find the most suitable person to be in charge to coordinate this investment. 

And that’s how you came along: in a stack of four resumes sitting on his desk, Lewis opened your file, carefully analyzing your entire career path, the types of projects you are used to working on, and the topics that excite you the most. 

Looking for someone who has similar values as him, he quickly realized that you were the one: you are determined, have a successful professional path, and you seem to share the same vision as him. That, and the fact that the picture on your resume has enticed him from the first second, not even reading the rest of the files on his desk - after all, he had found the person he was looking forward to working with the most. 

It feels like time has stopped when you stand in front of each other. Suddenly, the room went silent, like no one else was around you, leaving it to be just the two of you. But maybe, you stared at each other a second too long, maybe your hands felt the other’s warmth for longer than it was supposed to, until someone is clearing their throat, making you distance yourself from the man, occupying your seat at the table. 

Keeping your posture while you take a deep breath to regain your senses, you focus on your boss, who's now rushing so the meeting can finally start, not wanting to keep the client and his team waiting any further. 

Lewis’ team is quick to explain more about the reason why they wanted to meet you. This is a special project for the man: a new clothing line, whose profits will be donated to charities that Lewis cares for - a project that reflects most of Lewis’ personality, with his taste and passion for fashion, and his will to help others. 

It’s easy for you to identify all the common points that you have with the main idea for this job, so you slowly start growing excited to get your hands on this project. But, at the same time, you can’t stop feeling that something is startling you, making you lose your focus from time to time.

Maybe it’s the way Lewis’ gaze lands on you from across the table, how his eyes seem to burn the insides of your soul, making you shift your attention between him and the presentation of the project. 

When it’s finally time for him to speak, he gets up from his seat, ready to explain his motivation behind this idea and his expectations for it. But while he does so, his eyes never leave you, his words being directed only at you, forgetting about your boss or anyone else that’s also in the room with the two of you. 

You feel your cheeks growing warmer by the minute, your hands slightly sweaty, your heartbeat accelerated, almost hypnotized by his intensity, his gaze being strong enough to set you ablaze. 

He’s wearing a long, bright, orange blazer, his braids tied in a bun, enhancing his chocolate eyes that are totally focused on you, trying to record every single detail of your face in his mind, so he won’t forget about it. 

You’re pretty sure that everyone else can notice the way you keep looking at each other, even if they act oblivious to it, and that’s enough to almost make you die out of embarrassment, even if you’re giving your best to pretend like you are not bothered by his presence right in front of you.

Finally, the meeting comes to an end, having sorted out the main ideas you are going to start working on already, and you can’t help but notice the heavy weight that seems to lift from your shoulders once you shake his hand for the final time today.

It’s almost as if you can breathe correctly again, without feeling so self-conscious from being shamelessly stared at by someone like Lewis Hamilton. Still, the way he said ‘goodbye’ to you, with a slight wink and a smirk plastered on his face, left your insides rumbling, this weird feeling growing inside of you. 

You knew you were done from the first second you walked inside that meeting. The seven time Formula 1 world champion is obviously a very important client for your company, and your boss is making sure that he has everything he wants and needs. That’s why he was quick to inform you: Sir Hamilton will have a weekly meeting with you. Every Wednesday, at 9:30 am. Don’t be late.

Great, a weekly reason to make you wish you would be buried seven feet under. Your boss even made sure to tell you to clear your schedule every Wednesday morning, so the meetings for Lewis’ project wouldn’t have to be rushed. 

This is a very important opportunity for you inside your company, but you’re not that pleased about this, due to the way you had felt this morning, feeling as if the driver was analyzing every inch of your face, reading every bit of your facial expressions. 

The only thing you can do now is focus on your job, and not think about seeing him again until next week - and maybe even pray that these intense reactions from him could be just a 'first impression' type of thing, hoping he will show you a more calm side of his personality in the following meetings. 

“Lewis Hamilton is a problem for next week, Y/N” - at least, that was what you thought. The next day, you were peacefully enjoying your dinner at home, when your phone started ringing a crazy amount of times, the ringing sounding muffled in between the sofa pillows, but still annoying you, praying it would stop. 

A loud sigh escapes your lips when you look at the screen, your eyebrows furrowing when you check the countless messages from the man himself - Lewis, texting you a bunch of different pictures of ideas and inspirations he has for the project, wanting your opinion on them. 

You immediately groan, hating the fact that your boss asked you to give him your personal number instead of just the professional one, so he could ‘reach out directly to you whenever he needs’ since he’s ‘such an important client’. 

Opening the conversation, you notice his messages don’t stop coming, asking you questions and sending you different pictures of what he’s envisioning for this assignment. Tired of hearing your texts’ ring, you decide to dial his number, calling him in hopes he would just tell you everything that’s going through his mind while you are having dinner, interrupting the little time you have away from the office. 

After the second ring, the man picks up your call. 

- What can I do for you on this fine evening, Y/N? Can I get you sparkling water as cold as this typical rainy London night? Maybe a medium rare steak? - his voice sounds deep, yet light and you just can’t not notice the cheeky tone of his words, like he’s having so much fun while terrorizing your time away from work. 

Silently rolling your eyes at his attitude, you’re ready to answer him back with the same wit. 

- Well, office hours are over, and I hope you will keep that in mind the next time you think about clogging my phone with endless messages, Sir Hamilton. - using your most sultry tone, you smirk to yourself as you hear him humming on the other side of the line. If he wants to mess with you, he better beware that two can play this game.  - Noted, Miss Y/N. I’m sorry for taking your time outside of your office to bother you with work related topics. But maybe our interactions after your office hours can be rearranged, no? Maybe we can change the subject of our conversations? - pushing your buttons, he’s clearly smiling at his phone, enjoying the way you joined his banter, just as much as he enjoyed hearing the words Sir Hamilton leaving your lips, leaving him to dream about it all night. 

Fucker. His provocative words leave you speechless, struggling to have a reaction, your brain running to say something, so he will stop feeding his ego off the embarrassed silence that he got you in, now. 

Clearing your throat, you decide to change the topic of the conversation. 

- So, enlighten me a bit more about the ideas you sent me for the design? That’s why you contacted me in the first place, right? - you try to keep your composure. He’s a client like every other, Y/N. Breathe, in and out, and forget about what he said. Be. Professional. 

On the other side of the line, a chuckle leaves the man’s throat. 

- Office hours are over, Y/N. We will have plenty of time to discuss our ideas and different… positions on this project. Have a nice night. - The cheeky attitude makes your face feel hot again. He’s clearly smiling on the other side of the phone call, oblivious to the way your insides are trembling with his innuendo, in the same way that you have no idea how he can’t stop thinking about you, the way your baby blue suit would hug your figure perfectly, how your soft voice seems to enter his ears and travel through his veins, making him feel something that he has never felt before - but something that he definitely wants to chase. 

Tonight feels particularly hard for you to fall asleep. Your brain is trying to process everything that happened for the past two days, and every time you replay his words, your insides grow nervous. 

It’s like you’re already fighting an internal battle with yourself, conflicted between the way you feel and how wrong it is for you to feel this way, how you should remain professional. 

Either way, no man is worth losing your job over. So, with a final deep breath, you try to forget about him and his antics, reminding yourself that you have other projects, other things to focus and to work on. 

And, surprisingly, during the following days, the man grows silent. Doesn’t call, doesn't text, almost as if he was giving you a break from all the things he could say or do, letting you focus on your work and your inner peace. 

Still, his damn words would continuously hover in the back of your mind, even making you suppress a smile sometimes, thinking that you will end up going insane just by the amount of times that your head brings this back.

Soon enough, a new week arrives, and before you can notice, it’s Wednesday again. It’s 9:20 am when you walk inside your company's building, reaching for the door handle of your office, when your eyes scan Lewis’ figure sitting on the couch at the waiting area. 

Sharing a soft smile with you, he gets up once you open the door, noticing how the man just allows himself to walk inside your workplace without your permission, getting comfortable in one of the chairs in front of your desk, while you’re left dumbfounded at the door, analyzing his attitude. 

After a second, you sit on your chair, only to be met with Hamilton’s sharp tongue again. 

- It's amazing to see that you can actually show up on time for once - he ironizes, suppressing his own laugh when he notices your eyebrows lifting, looking straight at him. 

You can’t believe his smart mouth, how he feels so comfortable to push your buttons even before knowing anything about you. Still, you push your hair out of your face and straighten your posture before replying:

- Is acting like a prick your favourite hobby or something? - your snap back with an ironic smile on your face, hearing Lewis laughing loud at your question, lightening the mood between the two of you.

Almost as a peace offer, he finally puts a cup of coffee that he was holding in his hand, on your desk, moving it closer to you. You raise an eyebrow at him, looking at the cup in front of you that has your name written on the lid. 

- A hot blonde vanilla latte with oat milk. Did I get it right? - the man asks with a nervous smile on his face, showing you his fingers crossed in hopes that he didn’t ruin the order that he made sure to get you. 

A surprised chuckle leaves your lips, sincerely smiling at him, now. 

- Yup. That’s correct. How the hell did you find out what my usual coffee order is? - your furrowed eyebrows dominate your facial expression, trying to figure out how he discovered something so small yet so specific about you.  - I noticed the coffee cup you were holding on our first meeting. If you don’t want people to know what you’re drinking, maybe you shouldn’t walk around with the sticker of your entire order glued to the cup - Lewis giggles at you, seeing the way your lips suppress a laugh that soon you let free as well.  - Damn you, Starbucks! A girl can’t have her mysterious latte without some prick finding out about it - his eyes look small on his face when he hears your words, smiling widely at the light banter that revolves around you two now. 

Still, you take the cup in your hands, sipping on the latte, realizing that it really tastes just like every other you usually order - he didn’t miss a detail about it. 

- Thank you, Sir Hamilton. This is a very nice gesture from you - you say, giving him an honest smile while your eyes dance with his in an intense, yet brief, stare, before turning your attention to your computer.

There’s a moment of silence, the typing on your keyboard being the only sound filling the room, while Lewis’ mind is loud inside his skull. As if he keeps fighting himself to continue the banter, to tease you about the whole ‘Sir Hamilton’ thing, or to make another snarky remark just to push your buttons again. But instead, he just takes a breath, trying to ease some of the tension on his shoulders, due to all the pressure that he keeps putting himself under whenever he sees you. 

- Please, you can call me Lewis. - is all he says. With a soft tone, with shiny eyes, looking up at you as you turn your face in the same direction as his voice, your gazes meeting again. 

You gulp. Okay, Lewis. Not Sir, not Mr. Hamilton. Just Lewis. Nodding your head, you find the courage to speak through the intensity surrounding your bodies right now, as if your figures are speaking for yourselves, leaving little room for actual words to leave your mouth. 

While the air grows thicker around you, Lewis’ deadly stare is still on you, almost defying you to reciprocate it, noticing the way he props his elbows on the table, moving his body closer to you, even if there’s an entire desk distancing you two - something that you aren’t sure if you should be thankful for or not, your mind wondering as your eyes travel through the man’s shape. 

Taking his jacket off, his body gives you a show of what’s underneath the fabric covering his skin. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt today, one that hugs his toned body perfectly, showing his biceps on full display for you right now, making you feel flustered, making it impossible for you to deny how good he looks.

He notices it. He feels it. Your eyes travelling through his frame, admiring his toned arms, the tattoos strategically positioned to adorn his skin, your cheeks turning a slight shade of pink that makes a sly smile play on his lips, loving the way your gaze seems to not be able to leave him, addicted to having your attention. 

Once you realize that you have been staring for too long, you pull yourself back from the trance he got you in, clearing your throat as you sip on your coffee again - doubting that filling your system with caffeine is a wise decision, right now. 

- Well, thank you for the coffee, Lewis - you enhance the way his name sounds on your lips, getting a simple, yet knowing, smile from the man. 

Shifting in your seat, you try to regain your focus, hoping the drink might at least help you with that. 

- So, about the project… - you change the topic, looking back at your computer, as you try to start discussing some ideas with the driver, who is ready to listen to them, and to everything that you want to tell him, really. 

Time passes by faster while you’re in each other’s presence, even if, deep in your bones, it feels like every second burns on your skin, passing by excruciatingly slowly, feeling every breath in your body, every stare, every word sinking in your soul.  

And while both of you are trying your absolute best to remain focused, it’s hard. Lewis can’t stop noticing every detail of your presence, the way your hair gets in front of your face when you’re writing down the topics you need to work on next, forcing you to always keep the strands behind your ear, how you bounce your leg almost absently whenever he talks, biting down the skin of your lips as a way to distract you from the anxiety travelling through your blood - silently letting him know that he’s not indifferent to you, that he causes your body to react on its own.  

Showing him your ideas, you turn your computer screen to the side, so the man can see everything you had planned already, how you picture the final result. But instead of staying in his place, he gets up, walking over to you, his frame leaning over yours as you two look at the screen in front of you. 

- It’s just easier this way, no? So we can both look at things from the same perspective - his hoarse voice tells you, suddenly speaking lower, his lips closer to your ear as he directs his eyes to the projects in front of him. 

As soon as his figure got closer, you could immediately notice the scent of his perfume, the delicate yet strong aroma hitting your nostrils, feeling so pleasant yet so present, just like him. 

Looking up at him, you just give him a smile - one that’s not completely innocent, one that could make Lewis lose everything right here and now, only if he had a bit more confidence with you to take you in his arms, so he could lay your body on this desk, showing you how crazy the hours by your side are making him. 

And looking down at you, he smirks. Moving to touch the mouse, his hand lands on yours softly, dominating your movements. 

- What if we change this part of the event? Would it make sense to launch it this way? I want something different - you can barely make any sense of his words, sounding sultry as his hand continues to hold yours, and you can only thank yourself for not taking off your jacket this morning, covering the visible goosebumps that have found their home in your skin, now. 

There it is. The sparks showing up again, the heat radiating from both of your bodies, making it hard for each other to breathe. Lewis’ face gets dangerously close to yours, taking in your features, his lips so close for you to take in yours, his arm almost embracing your side as he continues leaning on your chair. 

You never felt so close to giving in to something capable of igniting your insides in a matter of seconds. And God, how badly you wish you could. But you can’t shush the little voice in the back of your head, telling you how he is a work client, after all. How you are just here to coordinate his project, and especially how your boss won’t be happy if he finds out about the slightest thing happening between you and one of the most important clients of this company. 

Unfortunately, you let that voice win. Clearing your throat once again, you take your hand from under Lewis’, getting up from your seat to go grab a glass of water, desperately needing to put out the fire that continuously threatens to consume your mind and body. 

- So, you were saying you want something different for the launch? What’s on your mind? Maybe if you explain it to me, I can make it come true - you ask from the middle of the room now, leaving the man to hold himself up on an empty chair, trying to regain his breath and mentality as well, now. 

He doesn’t have a single doubt that you could make all his dreams come true, even the most breathtaking ones that he keeps having every night, dreaming of the way his name leaves your lips, how your touch feels soft against his own, ever since the first time he got to shake your hand. 

But maybe this is pointless. Maybe you two just really need to calm down, and Lewis needs to rethink his next steps at your meetings. So, looking down at his watch, he sighs. 

- I have to go, I’m sorry Y/N. I’ll just email you my ideas, okay? Not out of your office hours, of course. - he shows you a small smile, trying to pretend like he isn’t just chickening out because you keep driving him wild, eating away all his sanity. 

- It’s always a pleasure, Miss. I’ll see you next week - shaking your hand, he shoots a wink in your direction, making you smile gently, watching him leave your office, and almost leaving behind this emptiness that now surrounds the space around you. 

Sitting down on your chair again, you sigh. Feeling helpless, and almost a bit sad to see him go, you look at the clock on your computer, realizing that you have only spent an hour together, thinking of the way you cleared your entire morning, planning on having a longer meeting with him. But maybe this is for the better, so neither of you ends up doing something crazy that you might regret later. 

Dumb ass, Lewis mutters under his breath, entering his car, only to stay still in his seat, sighing frustratedly as he stares at the horizon. I have to go? Where the fuck do you have to go, dumb ass? You two had the entire morning only to yourselves and you just left? Lewis, get your fucking shit together - the man says out loud, calling himself out at the ridiculous decision he just made, leaving you alone at your office, only because he decided that he wasn’t capable of dealing with the powerful feelings emanating between your bodies. 

To tell the truth, he just doesn’t want to ruin it. He doesn't want to make you feel like he is rushing something, even if he can feel that you share the exact same feelings and sensations as him.

Disappointed and angry at himself, he decides to drive home. Going back to knock on your office door would just make him look even more stupid. What would you even say to her? Oh, turns out I don’t have to leave? That would just make you look even more ridiculous - he continues to argue with himself, sighing exasperatedly as he distances himself from your company building, from the place he could find you in, spending the entire morning alone with you, just as he has been dreaming for the past days. 

  And yet again, Lewis goes home thinking about you. About your eyes, that seem capable of sending bullets straight to his heart, your slender legs that looked so perfectly hugged by the skirt you were wearing today. His mind wanders through every new detail that he keeps learning about you, wishing he could become the pen that slowly touches your plump lips while you put your brain to work, organizing your train of thought before writing down your ideas. 

Behind the door to your office, you still have your entire morning free, and you could use it to go have a nice breakfast at your favorite bakery, you could work on all projects you have on your hands right now. But no. Instead, you continuously refresh your email, waiting for the ideas that Lewis said he would send you. 

You lock and unlock your phone a bunch of times, hoping he would say something, even if he would just clog your entire phone with pictures of what he wants to do for this investment. You just want to hear from him, to get something more from him, craving his presence since you almost got a taste of him this morning. 

This isn’t right. You shouldn’t feel like this, you shouldn’t act like this at your workplace. You shouldn’t feel like a void has taken care of you just because he left. He’s just a client, you are just going to coordinate this project for him, and that’s it. Once all of this is done, you probably won’t even see him again. And now, you need to wait an entire week for him to show up once more.

Or maybe not. Tossing and turning in his bed that night, Lewis is feeling the desperation hitting his body, wishing you were lying by his side, so he could touch your smooth skin, smell your perfume, recording the scent on his pillow so he could feel you close to him whenever he would miss you. 

He doesn’t want to explore your perspective on this project only, he wants to explore your perspective in life, maybe while you’re wrapped in between the sheets with him. The fact that he has never felt this way before, makes his knees buckle every time he thinks about you, about the way you make him burn with desire, with curiosity to discover you, so your bodies can finally meet.

But he can’t deny how powerless you make him feel, even if he tries to play it cool and use his strong mask, acting all tough around you, you could make him crumble in seconds just with your eyes, let alone with your touch on his body.

He needs to see you again, he wants to see you again. It’s like his brain can’t even process other information that’s not related to you, not even thinking twice before sending you a quick text at 4:39 am. 'Can we please have an emergency meeting tomorrow morning? We are having some issues with the plans for the line.' And with a heavy breath leaving his body, he presses send, hoping you will reply back with a ‘yes’. 

Startled by your phone ringing in the middle of your slumber, you try to read the message you received, even if your eyes are almost fully closed. Seeing Lewis’ name on the screen is enough to make you rub your face, trying to wake up faster so you can find out the reason as to why he is texting you in the middle of the night. 

Furrowing your eyebrows, a groan escapes your lips. Great, more work problems, as if your week isn’t chaotic enough already. Looking at it from the bright side, you will see Lewis again, even if it’s in the middle of solving problems, of getting some work done, maybe without that much time to banter as you usually do, but just seeing him again will be enough for you. 

I can make some time after my first meeting of the day. 10:45 am in my office? - you reply back, lying on your pillow again, trying to go back to sleep when your phone rings one last time with a simple 'Perfect. Thank you, Y/N.'

You would be lying if you said that the thought of having him inside your office again tomorrow morning isn’t making some butterflies appear in your stomach, making it hard for you to fall asleep. But above all, you need to keep your focus, even if he is a very pleasant sight to look at, that’s all he is. Nothing more. 

There’s a smile plastered on Lewis’ face once he reads your answer to his prayer. You said yes. You will make time to see him, to allow him to look at your gorgeous features again, to hear your voice shushing away all his intrusive thoughts. 

He knows there’s not a problem with anything yet for you to fix, but he will make sure to figure something out, just looking for an excuse to see you again as soon as possible, without having to wait an entire week - wanting to redeem himself for his stupid attitude that he gave you this morning, when he walked away from your meeting. 

Thursday, 10:35 am. Lewis is already waiting for you to be freed from your current meeting so he can see you. Wearing a navy blue jacket, his hands hold two coffees, and a small bag that has some scones inside of it, in the hopes of making your stressful morning a little more sweet with his presence, and the small cakes. 

Your meeting runs a little late, and it’s already 10:57 am when you’re able to call his name, asking him to please follow you to your office. Opening the door, you encourage him to walk inside, noticing how he doesn’t seem as confident to erupt through your space again as he did yesterday. 

Still, he sits down, putting the coffees and the small bag of pastries on your desk as he waits for you to join him. He has a soft smile on his features, almost as if he is feeling nervous, and he is. This morning, you have some music playing at a low volume in your office, and the man is quick to search for it while you are still at the door, talking to your secretary. 

Thanking God for the power of technology, he finds out that you are listening to Daniel Caesar's ‘best part’ before you notice that he is actually shazamming the song. 

He sips on his own coffee slowly, listening to the melody and the lyrics of the track, realizing how fitting it feels for this moment. Seeing you this morning is definitely the best part of his entire day. 

You sit down in front of him, smiling at the cup of coffee waiting for you. 

- I already had coffee this morning, Lewis. But thank you - you politely say, putting the cup to the side, saving some sips for later. - Oh no. A bit more caffeine won’t hurt, will it? - he jokes, making you shake your head at his antics. - I also brought some scones, maybe they’ll make your morning a bit more sweet.  - Do you want me to go crazy with the amount of caffeine you want me to put in my body, Mr. Prick?! - you joke, laughing in unison with him. - I’ll take the scones though, I am really in need of something that will lighten up my day. - you explain, taking a bite out of one pastry. 

Something to lighten up your day? That’s me, Y/N. - Lewis thinks to himself, feeling his heart racing in his chest at the sight of you, looking so beautiful, so bright and bubbly as ever. 

Even if the carnal desires erupting from your bodies are evident, the man is starting to realize that it’s so, so much more than just that. Yes, he wants to hold your body close to his, bringing you to the edge of pleasure, seeing you roll your eyes to the back of your brain as you moan his name, but he also wants to hug you, to kiss your cheeks softly, to taste your lips that he’s positive that are sweeter than a scone, he wants you to caress his scalp, he wants to share a coffee and pastries with you more and more, hearing your ideas, your life perspectives, studying the way your amazing brain works. 

He’s been thinking about it for some days now. Realizing that, whenever he thinks of you, he just doesn’t think of sex only, he thinks of nice encounters at your favourite bakery, he thinks of getting you flowers in the morning, just to see your adorable smile in your sleepy face, to the sight of your favourite flowers in his hand. And maybe that’s why he’s feeling softer, today. The tough guy façade will soon fade away, the more you grow on him, the more he dreams about you, wishing he could spend more days and moments by your side. 

- Daniel Caesar is already a nice vibe for a stressful day - he tells you, his head slowly moving to the tune playing in the background, making you realize that you still have music playing on your computer, feeling way too overwhelmed to remember it.  - Oh! Sorry. I like to listen to music when I’m alone, especially if I’m stressed. But I forgot it was playing - you quickly reply, turning it down immediately.  - Why did you turn it down? I thought it was fitting for our meeting. Seeing you might be the best part of my stressful day as well - there. You said it, Lewis. You shouldn’t have said it, but you did, and now she’s not replying. She’s blushing, but she’s not replying. She’s definitely smiling at your words, but she’s not saying anything back. But God, she looks so cute when she gets shy. 

It’s an internal battle with himself, hating the fact that he couldn’t hold his words inside, but loving the effect they had on you, making your cheeks turn into his favourite shade of pink, the cutest smile on your lips as you share a scone with him, silently agreeing with him. And that’s enough to make his heart flutter. 

- So, what’s wrong? - you break the mood once again, focusing on the reason why he woke you up at 4 am.  - Huh? - the man says while biting down his scone, lost in his thoughts. - What’s wrong? What happened for you to text me at 4 am and schedule an emergency meeting today? - you ask again, noticing the man’s lost face expression.

Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to see you. No, you can’t say that, you idiot. She’s at work, she’ll think you don’t take her job seriously enough to schedule pointless meetings while she has her hands full of projects she should be focusing on, instead of wasting her time having scones with you. 

- Oh, yeah. About that… There’s a problem with the fabric suppliers, apparently they won’t be able to deliver all the materials necessary in time for the date we want to launch the clothing line. - his brain is fast to make up an excuse, finding something that can count as an issue that sounds bad enough for him to come to your office outside your weekly meetings. 

However, now you’re the one feeling lost in the subject. Your eyebrows are furrowed, trying to decipher what’s going on.

- That sucks Lewis, but I am not the one that can solve that problem. I am coordinating the project, meaning I only get to intervene once the clothes are done, so we can prepare the launching, the charity side of the line and all that. You’re the one who can do something about it, you need to speak to the suppliers directly, or send someone else to do it for you - you are quick to explain, seeing the way his face falls, as if that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. 

Shit. Does this mean that this meeting is over? We have nothing more to talk about? Not a problem in sight to solve? I have to go? Now that the coffee and the scones were tasting so delicious at the sight of the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on? She’s looking at her watch, she must be in a hurry, she must have more important things to do. You shouldn’t be selfish to the point of wanting her all to yourself while she’s buried in work, but unfortunately you are. Think, Lewis. Use your brain for once and fucking come up with something. 

- Oh, can’t you be the one talking to them instead? - that’s all you can come up with? No wonder she thinks you’re a prick. You’re asking this woman to talk to a supplier who hasn’t done anything wrong, are you fucking stupid? Don’t answer that, brain - I’m good. 

The way your eyebrows are quick to fly up your face, tells him how weird that idea was.

- Me? I don’t think that’s a good idea - you chuckle, sipping on the coffee the man brought you.  - Well, why not? Maybe if you call them pricks like you do to me, they’ll get the job done. You’re the boss of this project, after all. I’m just dropping my ideas from time to time - he shows you a cheeky smile, one that makes you shake your head at his words, with a laugh escaping your lips. You’re the boss of my mind, at least. 

You get up from your seat, a silent way of telling him that it’s time for him to go - even if you don’t want him to go, even if you would rather hear his jokes all day, making you forget all the problems at work. 

- Maybe you can try and solve it yourself, and then give me some feedback, alright? - you tell him with a smile. - I guess Mr. Prick will see what he can do - Lewis replied, taking his coffee cup with him as he leaves your office. - See you on Wednesday, Y/N. 

23 minutes. That’s all you got from an emergency meeting that you didn’t even plan correctly so you could have some more time with her. In between the scones and the music, you got 23 minutes of what your insides hoped to be the rest of the day, the entire night, tomorrow, all your hours dedicated to her. 

At least, you got to look into her eyes once again, Lewis. You made her laugh, helped release some tension from her shoulders with the scones. Gotta give you that, it could be worse.

But it also could be a lot better. That’s why Lewis goes back home with this feeling itching in his chest. He just wants to spend more and more time by your side, so why can’t he? 

He already has the weekly meeting with you, every Wednesday morning. And as the weeks pass by, the driver stops chickening out, spending all morning in between the four walls of your office, sharing his ideas, mixing them with your own for the project, sometimes focusing on work, other times paying more attention to the way your hands softly touch when you’re passing on papers to the other, how your figures meet when you’re side by side, organizing design visuals at your desk, how you lose yourselves in the other’s eyes. 

But a weekly meeting doesn’t seem enough, doesn’t feel enough. So the man starts ruining small things here and there, causing inoffensive problems that are good enough to justify another emergency meeting with you - to which he would always show up with your favourite coffee and scones, almost creating this chaotic yet pleasant tradition, finding peace when he’s with you, even while dealing with the chaos of the little problems he created.

You can’t deny that you find it weird that every week, emergency meetings with Lewis seem to have become something mandatory on your schedule - sometimes over the smallest things that definitely didn’t require a meeting to be solved. 

But as the banter, the laughs, the soft conversations and touches kept growing, the air around you two got more comfortable as well - or maybe, you’re the one who got used to breathing in between the flames he causes to erupt on your body.  

Every night feels lonely while you dream of him, your head lying on the pillow where you’ve whispered his name already - without even having touched him yet, addicted to his perfume that seems to get attached to your clothes once you started hugging each other, instead of just shaking hands. Every time you get to feel just a small ounce of his touch, you swear you could get lost in it, in him, and never wanting to come back to reality. 

However, as much as you might feel this way towards him, you’re not sure if Lewis feels the same way, or if this is just a fun game to him. And even if he might, in a parallel reality, share the same emotions as you, you’re pretty sure that he will never make a move, and you definitely can’t even equationate doing it, because your job is on the line. And that’s why the desire for him is the only thing lulling you to sleep every night. 

Lewis has been getting lost in his own thoughts and fantasies as well, picturing every single thing he would do to you, imagining how different his days would be if you were by his side, completely hooked on you - dying a little more every week, as the will to hold you, to touch you, grows at an insane pace, only for him to have to fight it, using all the power in himself to restrain his movements around you, so he won’t lose it. 

He has never been so sure of his feelings, and that’s why it kills him to see your dynamic when you’re together, the girl of his dreams right in front of him, falling in love with you the more he gets to know you, the more time he spends with you. 

When he got to hug you for the first time, sensing your hand on his shoulder softly as you got ready to say goodbye after another meeting, your bodies got closer than usual, and he invited you for a first hug, to which you happily complied. 

God, he could lose it right then and there. Chanting victory in his head just because he got to hug you once, celebrating the small wins you give him from time to time, the man was ready to confess his love for you in that second, when your noses almost touched once you broke the hug.

He wants to see you outside of work - that’s the thing he wants the most right now, and he would give up on anything for it to become true. But, as he continuously messes up with your work schedule, requiring more and more meetings outside of his weekly hour, the more you roll your eyes at his antics, the more you call him a ‘prick’. 

It was fun seeing your reaction at first, laughing every time you would call him that, while the banter was light and meaningless. But now, Lewis can’t sleep, wondering if you are growing tired of him, feeling annoyed every time the man shows up at your office with another problem, making you work extra hours on those days, due to the amount of times you have to change your schedule to fit his ‘emergencies’. 

Would you possibly say no, if he would gain the courage to ask you out? That thought haunts him every night, every week, at every meeting, every time he looks you in the eyes, every time you smile at him - so sweet, so innocent, but with the power of breaking his entire heart in half. 

Besides that, he knows how you’re focused on your job, and he doesn’t want you to lose your position at the company because of him. He knows how this is important for you and your career, how you always remain professional, even when he might say something a bit more cheeky, trying to get you to loosen up a bit more. So maybe that’s another valid reason that would make you say no. 

But once again, he needs to be selfish. He can’t wait so many months until the project is finally done, waiting for the time when you two are no longer business partners, when all the professional meetings will come to an end, to finally ask you out.

After all, he doesn’t want to lose contact with you. He doesn’t want you to stop working with him either. But he can’t continue to feel like this, every meeting feeling like absolute torture that he needs to endure on his body, restraining from touching the goddess in front of him, never allowing his dreams to become reality.

It’s been five weeks since the first time you saw each other, and it’s been around ten times that he has been inside your office, ten times you two had to keep from giving in to temptation, resisting to what your bodies so desperately beg the two of you. 

And to tell the truth, you’re both growing tired of it. Lewis reads between the lines every time you give in just a little, always focusing on how professional you must remain at all times. So he knows that this one must be on him.

After weeks of debating with himself whether he should do it or not, he weighs the pros and cons of gaining the courage to finally asking you out: you can say yes, and that would be the most perfect scenario he can picture in his head, finally allowing him to see you outside of work, exploring you further away from the suits and the office you’re safely kept in; or you could say no, leaving him to deal with a broken heart, crushing all his expectations and dreams that you’re in. 

With a deep breath, he makes a decision: he will ask you out, and if you say yes: perfect. If you say no, he feels like he has no choice rather than to choose someone else to work on this project with, not feeling like he would be able to deal with seeing you every week after being rejected by the only person that he has ever desired this much.

Wednesday, 9:24 am. As always, Lewis is already waiting for you at the small sofa near your office door, admiring your figure as you arrive to open the door for the man.

You stopped buying your own coffees every Wednesday, knowing that Lewis will already be waiting for you with two cups of coffee and scones in his hand, like the little tradition you started in your office. 

Walking inside, both of you quickly make yourselves comfortable, getting used to your meetings, to each other’s presence. This morning, you feel all the stress of this week on your shoulders - having to deal with extremely tight deadlines, getting little to no sleep for the last couple of nights. 

Lewis can feel your heavy energy, trying to lighten up the mood with a joke here and there, only to notice how you crack very little this time. You’re not joking back, your smile is smaller than it has been in the other weeks. He’s not a quitter, but for now, he just decides to tone down his snarky replies, listening attentively to your professional speech, stepping up to talk about the project with you. 

When you ask him to check some visuals with you on the computer screen, he does what he has been doing since the first meeting - gets up, meeting you on your side of the desk, to lean his body over yours, feeding the both of you with some soft yet intense touch of the moment your bodies meet for some minutes. 

You are too overwhelmed with work and information to even pay that much attention to his body reaching so close to you today, so you continue to complain about how neither of the designs seem to fit the ideas that you two came up with, how you need to ask the designers to work on something new and different, how this will delay the launching of the clothing line even more, how this is all a tragedy.

He’s looking down at you with a soft smile on his features, finding you adorable while stressing over something so trivial like colors and lines of a design, as if it’s the end of the world. You’re speaking fast, barely catching any air in your lungs as you are now venting about how stressed you feel today - your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you, not even daring to look at the man’s face right now. 

If he could, he would cup your face in his hands, reaching slowly so your lips could meet in a loving kiss, shushing away all your worries, grounding you again so you could breathe through his lungs, bringing all the oxygen back to your body, to your mind. But, in the situation you’re currently in, he can’t. And that kills him so much that he decides to leave all his fears behind as well, gaining the courage to interrupt your train of complaints. 

- Wouldn’t you rather rant over a nice dinner? I think you once mentioned you like Italian food? - he says cheeky, even if his insides are trembling with anxiety, afraid of your reaction. Please say yes, please say yes. Please. 

You stop talking, finally turning your head to him, your features meeting his soft ones - the smile that you love seeing on his face so much, so close to you once again, almost making it impossible for you to keep your impulses to yourself. 

- What? - a nervous chuckle leaves your throat, as if you’re not quite understanding what he’s telling you. You heard me. - For dinner, Y/N. Italian? Indian? Mexican? I don’t know, what do you prefer? - he insists, his arms still resting on your chair and your desk as before, but somehow making you feel as if you are trapped now. 

Soon enough, realization washes over you - he’s really making a move, one that you never thought he would be capable of making. In a matter of seconds, a knowing smile paints your lips as well.

- You want to take me out for dinner? What if I say no? - it’s your turn to defy him now, expectant to hear his reply. I don’t think you want to say no. - That’s not an option - the man is quick to say, his confidence growing inside of him as he reads your facial expressions, learning how to decipher you throughout the time.  - Oh? - you say surprised, with an eyebrow raised. - That’s not an option? Then I guess I have no options - you inform him, shrugging before you leave your seat on the chair, walking over to the opposite side of the desk, trying to physically escape the hold he has on you. Don’t run away from me when you feel the same way as I do. - Your only option is to say yes and to let me take you on a date. It’s been time, now - he confesses, sincerity splattered all over his eyes, even when the typical smirk threatens to steal all the attention.  - You’re ambitious - that’s all you say, feeling all the weight coming back to lay on your shoulders, your heart racing in a way that it hasn’t in a long time, now.  - You should’ve known that by now. I never stop fighting until I get what I want. - he states confidently. And I want you. So insanely bad. You’re everything I can think about on a daily basis. You’re driving me mad.

A moment of silence fills the space between you two - and it’s not the comfortable type. It’s the heavy, dark, uncomfortable type of silence, the one that nobody enjoys. 

Please, say something. Don’t grow silent on me, not after everything I just said, after the touches we shared, the glances, the coffees, the jokes, the silly conversations. Please. 

Lewis grows nervous to the point of being scared that you might leave the room, not knowing what to expect from you right now. But even if you do, he’s positive that he will beg you on his knees for you to stay, to not turn your back to him. 

Your mind starts spiralling, questioning if this should really happen or not, feeling divided between your heart and your mind, each one having a different opinion, almost like the angel and the devil that are fighting a battle on your shoulders. 

You never thought Lewis would have the courage to really make this move, startling your senses a bit at his audacity. If you’re being honest with yourself, there’s nothing you want more than to finally go out with him, to discover all the other sides of the driver besides what you get to see inside your office. 

But unfortunately, when weighing the pros and cons, there are more important things on the line here, things that you can’t allow yourself to lose. So, maybe, you truly are left without an option, having only one possible answer to give him - preparing yourself to deal with the consequences that this might bring you. 

[thesharktanksdriver]

The strongest star (platonic)

This is determination from Whitebeard’s point of view when y/n met him and his crew. I decided to make this to flesh out my first post and also thought it would be fun since y/n is kinda an unreliable narrator in their own way due to forgetting a lot of details and events.

Master-list for the series here

Tag list: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck

for as long as Edward Newgate could remember, he wanted a family

As unconventional as it had seemed he had always dreamed of a family of his own

That was his dream that led him to the sea all those years ago

The freedom to pursue and accomplish this with the oceans cruel and caring waves

He’s old now, a man accomplished and still having his family grow

So when Marco brings a small child aboard Newgate can’t help but be a bit giddy

It’s been years since the Moby dick had such a young one aboard its old planks

He remembers like yesterday it once did

Children he found bruised and starved, cold and alone with eyes begging for warmth and comfort despite how scared they were

He was once like that, and he swore he’d not abandon those kids like others did for him

Those children grew up now to be some of his many kids

Years heavy on them as they are for him

He watched them grow from scared to proud and strong

And most of all he watched them grow to be happy with the family harboured on a couple planks of wood on the high sea

Each night rocked by the waves with full bellies and a smile on their faces

So it’s safe to say he is hopeful when Marco marches up, carrying a small child of about 10?

The youngest on the ship as of now was Ace and a few from the spade pirates that assimilated to his crew

But he hadn’t raised them, Moreso taken them in and not having the opportunity to truly nurture them in the way he had wanted

They were teens, a fraction of their lives already lived which meant he missed out on significant moments of it

He hadn’t been able to meet Ace’s brothers or be sure to in-still in him that he’s loved

Hadn’t been able to convince spade that he was more than what everyone in his home thought of him

As an old nostalgic man Newgate missed the feeling of being there for something important like that again

And he thought for a moment he could have that again until he noticed your eyes

He’s seen the terrified, angry and hopeless that looked up at him once before

Most of his sons whom he took under his wing had a variation of that when meeting him

But yours are….something else

He’s reminded of the night sky

A sight that he’s been more than familiar with his entire life as he looked to the stars and wished for people to call home

Despite just being eyes he sees more

Bleak empty darkness, swirling with the unknown with the distant twinkling flecks of stars

They are all encompassing and unassuming at the same time

Pits of dullness that shows the withered age that only a seasoned sailor could have amongst the cruel waves

A loss of innocence and all that a child should have

Yet at the same time somehow retains some of it despite it all

It’s conflicting and hypocritical all at the same time yet it’s there all the same

Those eyes stare up at him, no fear but instead apprehension fills its place

If nothing before could have convinced him that he wanted you apart of his family than this did

But he’s known from the moment you stepped foot on this ship he wanted you to have a home here either way

On the Moby dick you start off as a quiet presence that later grows into something bigger

Perhaps even bigger than yourself as the his sons and daughters seek out your company like moths to a flame

He can’t exactly blame them, not when he himself wants so desperately to grasp and hold that light

But he sees your apprehension when around him

The way in which you try to skirt around his presence as best as possible

Something you do exceedingly well

So Edward for your sake decides to take a seat back and watch what happens

Waits to see you ease up on your own time

God knows the amount of patience he has from dealing with Roger all those years ago and his rowdy kids

So he knows when to back down and let the stage set itself

Watch the act before his role is to come

And Edward does exactly that

He watches and waits

Eddie watches as you draw the crew in like a gravitational pull

It’s slow at first

Your cautious but you let your guard down

At first it’s with Marco

Being the one to take you onboard he decides that your his responsibility and take to it like the mother hen that he is

Seeing you inured stumbling out an alleyway really hit him hard

Perhaps harder than you had even noticed

It gets worse especially after you seem to brush off your injuries

He hovers around you a lot under the excuse of checking your wounds but you seem to know better

You always seem to know better

But either way you don’t say anything and simply grumble a bit about him

Moreso out of annoyance than actual disdain

But either or, Whitebeard watches as his first commander stays by your side

Eventually getting you to drop some of your barriers ever so slightly

Like the chipping in a wall that would lead to a crack

You talk and Marco listens

As do others who eventually join in on listening to some of your stories as you sit between the rails of the railing

Feet dangling through the gaps and swaying back and fourth as you tell stories

Everyone listens

Some even stop in their trail just trying to hear what you tell Marco as he similar sits beside you

Clawed feet of his half Phoenix form and firey blue wings tinged in gold crackling gently

The real breakdown comes when he offers to fly you around

Everyone can see something in you ignite at that

Genuine excitement only caused by child-like wonder

It’s one of the only times on your stay he had seen it

The child buried beneath whatever had happened to you peaking out from the brush

This was a good sign

One that Edward is glad to see himself as you soar with Marco

Blue flames giving you warmth even with the cold harsh winds

When you eventually land once more Edward can’t help but smile at the surpassingly content expression painting your face

That crack in your defence grows

The next to chip away at that metaphorical wall is Thatch

The cook quickly making his ways into your good graces when he has you help about in his kitchen

You seemingly can’t really stay still, mind always racing and wanting to do something

Never taking the time to relax

Thatch says you take to tasks quickly, finishing as quick as you started much to his surprise and exasperation

Whitebeard laughed at that at the time

So you were quick to pick up things

Knowing tasks like the back of your hand no matter how big or small

He’s also seen it, when you gave some of his sons tips in raising the sails or properly cleaning the deck quicker

Thatch won’t admit it to anyone but himself but Whitebeard knows he cooks more food for you than he’d usually would for someone on the ship

Even when Ace or Teach hound him for more food he angrily shoves them off

Then filling your plate once more

Thatch is the one who tells him of the time you cried eating his meals

Mumbling that it reminded you of her

Your mom

Apparently you don’t remember her anymore

Just the vaguest scent of her meals and a glimmer of a smile she would give when cooking

It….sticks with Eddy more than he’d like to admit

Forgetting was an unfortunate thing that came with time

Whitebeard considered himself lucky in not forgetting much over his years

He still remembers the loneliness of his childhood

The bloodshed and alienation on Rocks’s crew

Going off to make his family after the god valley incident

Recruiting his many sons

Finding some cold and alone while others sought him out as a father

Remembers when he first met the idiot he’d call a rival

How Oden would eventually become his little brother and hearing years later of his death by Kaido

The guilt still weighing on his shoulders even now

So in every sense of the word Eddy considers himself lucky in being able to remember

But you don’t have that same privilege

Your memory fraught with missing pieces

Leaving you trailing off for a moment as you regal a story that leaves everyone on deck listening intently

They all notice that you stare off quite often while doing something

Your mind wandering to whatever is it that your thinking of

Sometimes you even mumble to yourself

Though Eddy is never close enough to hear the mumbles others sometimes mention them to him

Names and places

Dates and times

Events and descriptions

But one thing brought up is something that raises his eyebrow

Things only the Roger pirates could’ve know or seen

He already suspected something when seeing the coat draped across your shoulders

You may think your slick in thinking he didn’t recognize that old thing but Eddie knows better

He’d known Roger far too long and arduously to not recognize his gaudy red coat (hypocrite a voice in the void cry’s out)

When his frien….rival was executed he had noticed the coat he wore was different

A darker red and cheaper material

But at the time he gave no thought to it

To wrapped up in a certain kind of grief to really think twice

But now that coat is on your shoulders

Pristine rose red contrasted with the cyan blue of your bandana and cloth sash

You couldn’t have known Roger, your too young to do so

Plus that idiot had two apprentices not three

So that option was x’d out the list

As him and his commanders talked

But you being a kid of one of his members was certainly a possibility

And the only one Edward could ever imagine Roger giving his coat to was Rayleigh and he had essentially dropped off the map years ago

So the conclusion that your maybe Rayleigh’s kid and that he was potentially dead was the conclusion drawn

It’s safe to say that it is something that weighs on not only his commanders mind but also Edwards

Because of the similar situation to Ace

The only other person you had tried to avoid on this crew for some reason

But maybe you somehow knew of his origin and that’s why? But even that seemed unlikely

Roger could keep his lips shut when the situation called for it

Something that he now praised his dead friend for

But on the topic of Ace…it was odd

You avoided Ace like the plague

Whitebeard understood why you avoided him, the giant who was named the strongest man in the world and feared in all blues

But Ace? He was practically a puppy vying for your attention after seeing you interact with literally everyone but him

He’d never thought he’d see his son who’d used to be like a snippy stray dog now practically begging for attention

But here he was

Well, more like they were since literally everyone else on ship it’s finding this all too hilarious

But also kinda sad

It’s not like they’d force you to get along with him if there had been a solid reason

But seemingly there was none

You just avoided him for whatever reason

Jittering in discomfort and leaving when you saw his signature orange hat

And they’d thought it would remain like this

But like all else Whitebeard sees things change

(Just as he saw the sea change when Roger died and ushered a new era)

The final piece to break down that barrier of yours is Ace

The one besides Whitebeard himself you had been the most barred against

It starts with a small conversation

And then on deck he sees both you and ace talk more

And more

And eventually Ace is placing you on his shoulders with his hat on your head

Or taking you out on striker as the smaller boat races around the Moby Dick

It’s a sight for sore eyes

Ace once again lighting up like a bright flame

The same happiness restrained for when talking of his brothers

Or of that person who had given him the small charm he covets as if it were the greatest treasure

Something he had been initially teased for until revealing its story

The small worn down little sun dangling from his wrist representing someone who he wanted to find once more

To thank for caring for him despite his bloodline

Because Ace saw himself as a blotch on the world rather than a blessing

It was something that Ace had hid well but as his father Edward could see the conflict in his eyes

He Tried his best to resolve it but it had yet to go away

But when Ace talks of the Brothers made over a sip of sake, a small sun charm and now seemingly you

It seems for a moment to melt away

Like the strongest of metal being smelted before hardening once more

So Edward watches in amusement as Ace lets you hang from his arm

Or how his son tries his best to seemingly impress your young eyes with tricks of blazing flames

Ace doesn’t seem to notice though that anything he seems to do leaves a proud look in your eyes

But Eddie does

Whitebeard can’t place as to why but he decides to leave it

Simply enjoying his new child and Ace bonding as if they had knew each other for years

The flame brazen boy igniting excitedly like a match as your smaller hands find his and dance to the drunken shanty music

Singing songs you seem to know and regard with an almost melancholy smile as Binks Booze begins to play

Only giving more evidence to your possible heritage

And then you eventually approach Eddie himself

The fearless Whitebeard, strongest man in the world

Golden yellow eyes staring back down towards yours that reflected a starry night

He asks you about your family in which you answer vaguely

Though he expect no less of an answer he notices that the way you explain it is practiced

And despite how practiced it is it leaves him dealing down worry

You’d been on your own for a decent amount of time now

Just seemingly drifting from how you described it

No one but yourself and the sea to keep you company

Only the clothes on your back and small mementos from travels to carry on with you

Whitebeard ponders who the “friends” you’d made along the way but you don’t say names often

Just nicknames

Sneaky but he’s raised enough rebellious boys to see past all the tricks

You change conversation but Edward allows it

Instead you ask him questions, something no one would usually dare to do when being questioned from him

He’d have to admit you have some guts for a kid

Typically he’d call people who did something like that a brat but he lets it slip this one time

And he answers your questions

If only to try and ease you into seeing that he is more than just the epithet of strongest man

That first and foremost he’s a father and perhaps he could be one to you

But instead you inquired about Roger

Another itch to prove your perhaps Rayleigh’s child

So Whitebeard answers truthfully talking about the man he once considered friend

To be honest Edward never really knew how to quite characterize his and Roger’s relationship

On one hand Roger was a man that Edward had respected deeply. Someone who was not only equal in power but also in kindness

God Roger was so stupidly nice to just about everyone as long as you didn’t somehow anger him

But On the other hand Roger was one of the stupidest men alive

Running head first into a battle with nothing prepared

Roger and him were both Friends and Rivals all at the same time

Along with being two sides of a coin

Men who loved more passionately than anyone else

Men who’d do anything to protect all that they loved even if it killed them

In some sense Whitebeard knows he should be happy in being the “victor” in their rivalry yet he’s not

Because they never did settle a score because there was no score to settle

And Eddie no matter how hard he’d try to deny it missed that goof

For as annoying as he was he was equally charming

Something that was infuriating

Because of course Eddie had to become friends with that man

Of course Roger had to go and get himself killed

And it’s Eddie who’s left to mourn

Eddie who’s left to watch the world change and grow old

Eddie is always the one left standing

And it’s there with that you ask him about mourning and how he deals with it

And Edward can’t help but give a pitied stare

A child should not know grief

A child should not know how to mourn

And yet you do

You always seemed to know something your not supposed to

A thing both equally dangerous to you as it is others

……geez you really must be Rayleigh’s kid

Whitebeard smiles, looking down to the coat hung heavy on your shoulders

For a moment he sees Roger there, smiling at him as usual

He tells you that even when someone is gone they leave bits of themselves in the world

Eyes subtly glancing towards a distracted Ace and Izou who listens nearby

Their presence still lingering in all those that they touched by literal and metaphorical

Because when someone leaves you they never really do

They change you

Mold you into the person you are and could become wether that be good or bad

Because Whitebeard despite knowing Oden and Roger are gone can still feel their presence on this ship

The splinters from when battling Roger as he was flung onto the Moby dick

The room in which Oden carved his name in the wood along with Toki’s within the shape of a heart

Sees glimmers of Roger shining through Ace and his firey temper along with his compassion

Watches Izou mumble under his breath about how Oden would have loved to have been on this adventure

Those 3 sake cups still sit in Edwards office

Below a collection of objects and photos of all his lost children

He still mourns them

As any father would

Still wonders if they would forgive him for falling them

But when he does so he remembers their still there

Their fingerprints engraved on a old grizzled heart

At hearing this you nod, pulling that old coat on your shoulders closer

As if someone was hugging you through its luxurious red cloth

His words have seemed to have comforted you and he’s glad

Perhaps even lifting some of the grief off your chest

If so Edward is happy

Because a child should know no grief

And he’d like to change that

Would like to remold your melancholy little heart back to what it should be

That of a happy child

He and his children itch to ask you to stay

But even when Marco offers you a room here

Or when Ace just straight up asks you to stay

You always reply the same way

That like the sea herself you are untethered

Maybe one day you’d find a place but for now you must keep drifting

You have people to meet

Friends you call family to see once more

Everyone here wishes for you to stay

Some ask their father to perhaps to pull the same thing they had pulled with Ace

But Whitebeard doesn’t relent on wanting you to join by your choice

Even when he feels his will want to crack when one night after talking with you under the starry night you fell asleep in his palm

Curled up and small as he feels small tears drip down and pool beside you

Or when it wants to crack even more when he catches you one night in the crows nest singing

The almost haunting sound echoing and reverberating across the ship

The Moby herself sitting at your side, her Klabautermann joining you in song

Or the almost final blow when he realizes that you breath new life in the ship without even knowing it

It’s unseen by your eyes but Whitebeard knows his sons and his ship enough to know when it’s more lively than usual

How your words capture them

He’s watched as you sat atop a barrel telling tales and seeing everyone huddle around you like ducks

Pausing in their duties or even sitting down to ask questions or for you to elaborate more

Grown men and women enraptured by stories of the sea and all its beauty

Even he himself couldn’t help but find himself entranced by your words

The way in which you tell them all are too detailed as to not be true

But Whitebeard does not relent

Does not stop in his judgement no matter how hard it will be to let you go back on that dinky little ship you called your own

It’s sail made of spare sheets with sewn in patches giving it splatters of colour

But when that happens Whitebeard promises to throw you a grand goodbye

Promises that when you do come back they’d have a room ready

That Thatch would make food that reminded you of a once lost home again

That Marco would tend to your wounds and let you scrape the sky

And that Ace would light up with a flame of a stars intensity

But they never were able to throw that goodbye party

That party would be the next one after the one that was meant to just enjoy being with you once more without having to say goodbye

But then you decided you’d help Thatch after seeing he could barely walk in a straight line, so you paused the celebrations for yourself and went to that kitchen celler

Going to place that damned devil fruit to be locked away

But then minutes ticked by

And so Ace decides he’d go find you, saying he’d have to convince you to tell Eddie of your story about the island in the clouds

The joyful atmosphere continues

And then comes Ace’s horrified scream for Marco

Cutting through the atmosphere as the usually chipper boy runs out the kitchen with you in his arms

Bloodied little you

You sit there in Ace’s arms

Bleeding heavily from a large slashing stab that has your blood practically gushing out and into the ground along with Ace’s arms

Despite that though

Despite the pain you should be in Edward spots an oddly content look on your face

Eyes looking up towards Ace but instead of tears filling them it’s a bittersweet look

The look of I’m sorry

Ace and you sit in Edward’s palm

Your small form cradled by his sobbing son who pleads for you

Blood still fresh on his hands and now smeared across Edward’s as well

A child should never die

Let alone in someone’s arms

For they shall carry that weight of them in their arms forever

So he tells ace to lay you down in his Palm

And Ace can only do so reluctantly

Ace turns to run to Marco who’s dashing across the ship but you stop him grabbing his hand

Making his son pause

You smile despite it all, a bright and beautiful smile that rivals the sun and all stars in the sky

Then looking to his charm as you pull out a similar one nestled in that coat pocket of yours

“You found me” it comes out as a pained rasp that makes Whitebeard’s heart ache

It aches more seeing Ace’s expression

Pure grief

Just utter pure grief

Ace clutches you

Begs you not to leave

To please not leave him after finding you

To tell him who did this to you

Your eyes squint as if trying to remember, but then light up with recognition

You give a small laugh, one that makes Whitebeard go still as does Ace

“Zehahaha”

Teach….thats why he wasn’t on deck

As that happens pieces of you shatter

A bright shining gold flashing in the night sky

Sparks of starlight and stardust congregating in the air

Scattering somewhere into the sky

In a fevered state you utter a last word to Ace

Sunshine

When your gone everyone is in a stunned silence

Because what just happened

But then Whitebeard thinks

He thinks all the way back to Roger

The last time he saw Roger the bastard had gotten suddenly silent asking Eddie if he knew of a song, a myth

A star that once dead formed back once more in a new part of the sky

A song was made about it once, something from the Rumbar pirates that had long died among the waves

But then he thinks back further

Back to those 3 days and nights they had fought on that abandoned island

And then he remembers

As Roger sent him flying with a punch Eddie skidded by the Oro Jackson

And for the briefest of moments he thought he spotted something shining in the darkness of a cracked open door

More rather the peering shining eyes of someone

At the time he tried to question Roger but he was as unmoving as a stubborn horse so Eddie had left the topic

He had forgotten of that experience years later

But now it comes rushing back

As does that myth of a undying star

It seems Roger was hinting at something all along

Sly bastard

Seems you weren’t Rayleigh’s kid after all

Maybe you were more Roger’s kid than anything

But….Eddie had taken in one of Roger’s brats before

His sobbing son is evidence of that

And perhaps he will do so again

“Hmf….sly bastard. Their out there, we’ll find them again” his words are spoken with conviction as a sobbing ace looks up to him, his golden eyes soften at his sons expression “their still alive Ace, just displaced when they die. Roger rambled to me a myth about it the last time we met. A star that never died and reappeared in the sky, I thought it was nonsense but maybe he was right”

“But how-“

“Think my boy. How could they be the one who had cared for you all those years ago when they’re that young? My best guess is a devil fruit” he sees the emotions swirl in Ace’s eyes as his sons nods shakily. Hands clutching the sun charm of his bracelet and scared to let go. Edward’s eyes travel from his son to his other children, the gold that was once softened now hardening once more as anger replaced it. Teach….a son now a traitor had to be delt with.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Family Matters

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Thor Odinson

Summary: your new husband's brother surprises you with a visit.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The doorbell rings again and you barrel so quickly down the stairs, you nearly topple off the bottom step. You catch your breath and grab the post at the bottom of the banister to steady yourself. It’s a splendid house but you told Loki it’s too big for just the two of you. He didn’t like that so you didn’t mention it again, even though it feels empty with how much he’s not around. 

You let those worries slake off of you and hurry to the door. It could be another surprise! Loki hates leaving you for so long so he tries to fill the void with gifts. Sometimes, they make you feel better, other times, you’re just sad. You’d rather have him there. 

It’s not a courier but a familiar face. Your brother-in-law. It’s official as of one month ago. You’re family. 

“Oh, hi,” you deflate, trying not to show your disappointment. You’re not upset it’s him, you just hate being the one to say, “Loki’s not in.” 

Thor smiles. He’s rarely unhappy. “Ah, that’s unfortunate. Where is off to, then?” 

“Work,” you grumble the repetitive explanation. “Important project or something.” 

“Important enough to leave you alone?” He wonders. 

“I... guess,” you try not to mope. Loki says it make you look childish. 

“Well, I am much in the same boat. Alone,” he laughs hollowly. 

“Oh, yes, I... how are you doing?” You ask. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for coming to the wedding. Really, I know it must’ve been difficult.” 

“I couldn’t miss my brother’s special day,” he shakes his head. “It was a day for love. Wasn’t your fault mine decided to leave...” 

Your heart breaks for him. The day you were married, Frigga told you what happened. A hug fight right after your rehearsal dinner. Jane left before the morning. Despite all that, Thor didn’t show a hint of grief at the wedding. 

“It’s too bad. I liked Jane.” 

“Needless to say, I did too,” he smiles thinly. “Well, I hope I didn’t disturb you very much. I suppose I could come calling tomorrow and hope my brother isn’t too busy for the likes of me.” 

Your heart rents for him. Here you are, a new marriage, a husband to long for, and he lost his girlfriend of five years. You don’t have much else going on, it would be nice to have someone there. 

“Did you wanna hang around for a bit?” You ask. “Not much going on but... this place is eerie when you’re all alone.” 

“Hm, did Loki say when he would return? Wouldn’t mind waiting around a bit,” he suggests. 

“I hope soon but he didn’t say,” you shrug. “Yesterday he wasn’t home until midnight.” 

“Midnight? He would make you wait so long? A lovely young wife like you?” He scoffs. “Well, that is just terrible. I will not commit the same crime as my brother. I’d love to come in.” 

“Alright,” you smile. “I... we could put something on? I was going to watch the new season of the true crime show.” 

“Ha,” he enters as you step back to let you through. “That wouldn’t help being alone, would it?” 

“I guess not,” you giggle. “We could watch something else. A comedy. I’ve been rewatching Friends. For the hundredth time.” 

“Whatever you like,” he slips his shoes off and puts them on the mat. “The only words a woman like you needs to hear, eh?” 

You laugh again, “do you want snacks? I got some caramel corn and gummy bears.” 

“My brother let you bring those in his house?” He wonders. 

“It’s our house,” you face him with a pout as you stand in the broad archway to the front room. 

“Yes, you are correct. My apologies,” he follows. “You know, he only hates those sugary treats because he is weak to them. Be sure to hide them well or you might find some missing.” 

“No, he never wants any,” you continue into the front room. 

“So he wants you to believe,” Thor counters. 

“How about drinks? We got a bunch of wine from the wedding. Some scotch?” 

“I only really indulge in lager and I'm not of the mood for it,” he assures. “I could help with the snacks.” 

“No, no, sit,” you grab the remote and hold it out to him. “Find something to watch. I’m so indecisive I just flick through the menu for an hour.” 

“I will do my best,” he accepts it. His hand dwarfs you own as his fingers brush across yours. Loki’s hands are long, but not as thick. 

You push your shoulders up and spin around to flit off to the kitchen. You scurry away and slide into the kitchen. You go to the cupboard and take down the bag of caramel corn. You pour some in a bowl then grab the package of gummy bears and a box of cream cookies. 

As you come back to the living room, Thor leans forward to set the down the remote. You put the treats on the glass table and sit on the other end of the couch. You only realise then how awkward it is. You’ve never really been alone with him. 

“Thank you. So sweet of you to have me,” he says as he twines his fingers together. “I feel as if everyone has been avoiding me since Jane. I fear I might be a bit... melancholy.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you glance at the TV as it plays an intro to a show you don’t know, “well, how can anyone blame you? You’re going through so much.” 

“I’m an adult, these things happen,” he says. 

“Sure, they do, but I mean, it still hurts. It’s not easy,” you insist. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” 

“Ugh,” he puts his elbows on his legs and cradles his head. “I don’t mean to bring my dark cloud in here.” He rubs his temple. “Truly, I think I’ve been trying to outrun it but... what else can I think of with only an empty home to go to?” 

“Oh, Thor,” you sidle closer on the cushions. You gently touch his arm. His bicep is a lot bigger against your hand. “It’s okay. You can’t hold it in forever. It's good to feel these things. Once you get through that, you can move on and I’m sure you’ll find the right one.” 

He sniffles and you flinch. He quakes against your touch and your chest knots. You never imagined him crying. Especially not a man his size. You don’t know what else to do but comfort him. You rub his shoulder and he huddles over further and wipes his face. 

His long blond locks conceal his tears as he mops his sadness away with his knuckles. You hum and get even closer, your hand trailing up his back. 

“Thor, I'm sorry. It feels so cruel, I know. Especially the timing of it--” 

He startles you as he leans against you. You let out an ‘oop’ as he turns to embrace you, curling his shoulders and hunching to put his head on your shoulder. You have no choice but to let him. 

“Oh, it’s been awful,” he snivels. “I’ve been so lonely.” 

“Shhh, let it out, that’s okay,” you rub his back and stare at the wall. You certainly didn’t expect the night to go like this. 

He holds you tight as he cries against you, his body heaving. You know Loki isn’t the best for these sorts of things so you’re happy at least he trusts you enough to listen. That’s about as much as you can do. 

“You won’t believe how cruel she was,” Thor rasps. “She just yelled and yelled. She shoved me and—she just kept accusing me.” 

“Accusing you? Of what?” 

He’s quiet for a moment. He lifts his head to look at you, his arm across your back. “Of wanting another.” 

“Oh?” You blink in surprise. 

“I told her no, no, I did not, but she kept saying “I see it! I see it in your face!” And I swore to her, no, no,” He wipes his face with his other hand, “but now I’m afraid she might have been right.” 

“She... who?” You frown. 

His arm wraps around you, his fingers dipping into your side and in a moment, the couch shifts beneath you. You cannot resist as surprise paralyses you. Thor lifts you easily onto his lap, turning you and sliding you to sit on his thighs. 

“Woah, uh, whaat--” You press your hand to his chest. “Please, Thor, you’re emotional--” 

“She was right, kitten, you are so soft, so gentle, and I could not look away. She caught me--” 

“No, no, you can’t-- Loki--” 

“Loki leaves you alone. He would rather work than stay and adore his precious wife,” He cups your chin and forces you to look at him. “He would abandon you...” he leans in as his eyes fall to your lips, “and leave you unkissed.” 

You try to pull back but you’re trapped in his embrace. He squeezes you close and crushes his lips to yours. You squeal and struggle against him, finally turning your head so his mouth smears across your cheek. 

“Untouched,” his hand trails down your neck and you clasp onto two of his fingers, straining to keep him from going lower. “Unloved--” 

“Thor, stop, let me go--” 

He leans over so your back is on the cushion, his arm beneath you as your legs are folded up over his. He is on his side next to you. His large hand comes back to frame your face and he squeezes to keep you from squirming. You tug as his shirt and whine. 

“Thor, please, stop. We can forget--” 

“I can’t forget,” he growls and nuzzles your nose. You whimper and push against his chest again. He is stone, he is unmoving, and you know you cannot stop him. “I will never forget how you feel against me, kitten.” 

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 25/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

⊹👩🏼‍💻 From the author: A new part with a very very tense situation 😄 Please rate this part I enjoyed writing it so much 🤩

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You know that I appreciate you very much and love you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 13. Between despair and desire.

It was so cold. You only started to warm up when Jungkook turned on the seat heating for you. The heat spread nicely over your buttocks and warmed your lower back. But your hands and nose were still cold.

A few minutes ago, you and Jungkook drove out of the parking lot of your hotel. There was silence between you, you didn't speak. Why? You didn't want to. The reason? The reason is that he have a whole bag full of weapons, and it's decorated with an almost perfect lie on top.

You glanced at the dashboard, which showed -8 degrees Celsius and the time was 13.39. Jungkook was driving the black minivan he'd rented from the airport yesterday to get around town.

He drives with a completely indifferent expression. You took a quick glance at him, and it didn’t took you long enough to memorize every detail of his face.

The big black eyes, watching the road intently. His eyebrows were slightly drawn together, most likely because of the flow of thoughts in his head. For a moment, you wanted to know what he was thinking about. About your quarrel? Or about work? Or about that damn weapon bag and where exactly it was going to be used? His lips were constantly under the torture of his teeth, which were peeling off the skin and biting his lower lip where the piercing was. You also noticed a mole under his lip, which was clearly visible when Jungkook pursed his lips. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

You turn your head to the right and look at the landscape outside the window. It changes instantly because of the speed of the car. You don't notice how Jungkook looks away from the road and looks at you.

He wants to find something to talk about, but he knows for sure that you don't want to talk to him. He just wants you to stop being angry and worried about that fucking weapon he so carelessly hid. He's such an idiot, Jimin said to leave it in the car. Jungkook returns his gaze to the road and the memory of last night is still fresh in his mind.

It's probably a coincidence, or you're on the same vibe again. You're thinking about last night's fight, too, and a wave of anger and irritation washes over you.

You are holding a gun. It is cold and heavy. Of course, you don't know much about pistols or assault rifles, but you can tell that this weapon is new and it is firearms. Because traumatic weapons use smaller ammunition, not these pointy-tipped ones that seem to be half a bag. You put the gun in place just as a voice comes from behind you.

"Y/N." - You hear Jungkook. He's calling you in a moderately calm tone, but you're still scared. You instantly turn around and see your friend. He's wearing the white robe the hotel provides, his hair is damp and his posture is tense. He quickly assesses the picture before him and realizes that the situation sucks.

You get up from your knees and walk two steps away, thinking that this distance is safe. You stop when you come across the bed.

"Why are you here?" - Jungkook asks. He's still standing in the doorway. You look at him with frightened eyes and feel either panic or fear, it seems all at once.

You see a guy you've known all your life. You spent your childhood and your school years with him, moved in with him when he offered to live with you during your university studies, started having sex with him because it turns out you had feelings for him all along. This is who you see before your eyes.

But his gaze does not seem familiar to you. You feel as if you are being pierced by the same knives that are in the bag near your feet. His gaze is direct, demanding, dangerous.

"I heard something fall." - You start to say. "I went to look and found this." - You point to the black bag with the weapons.

"Why did you open it?" - Jungkook asks calmly, but you can hear the desperation in his voice.

"What is it?" - You continue to hold your hand toward the bag. "Why do you have so many weapons?" - You keep your voice steady, but you don't know when it will break.

"I'm explaining everything to you now. You misunderstood..." - Jungkook trying to explain, and starts moving in your direction.

"Don't come near me." - You say. Maybe you're afraid of Jungkook right now, to some extent, but it's more about not wanting him to be close. He stopped a few steps away and kept his eyes on you. "First, try to explain this." - You say and you both understand what the conversation is about. You see Jungkook tense up even more.

"I told you I work for a security company. It's private, so we buy all our weapons personally. We have always bought them in Japan, but through a distributor. When I left yesterday with Jimin, I decided to get some new ones myself, so I went to the store and bought some weapons." - Jungkook said. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest. Blood was pounding in your ears. Why is he only now telling you that he sometimes buys guns himself? Why the hell doesn't he share anything with you?

"Do you use this weapon at work?" - You asked, incredulous.

"Yes. My company protects powerful people." - Jungkook said, half-truthfully.

"Why did you never tell me that your company uses firearms?" - You continued to question your friend.

"Why would I do that?" - Jungkook asks. You giggle sarcastically.

"Because you and I are friends, sort of. Aren't we?" - You say irritably. Fear has almost been replaced by anger. Jungkook wants to answer, but you speak for him. "I asked you a billion times who, where, and with whom you work. And you were silent. I don't understand why you can't share such simple information with me. I consider myself your best friend, and the prefix 'best' means sharing everything." - You say sharply. Jungkook clenches his jaw, his chewing muscles pulsate.

"Don't forget the fact that you're a girl. Some things should be kept from you so you don't get worried." - Jungkook tries to keep his voice calm, but he's almost holding back too.

"You're going on about this 'worrying' shit again? What am I, your mommy? Of course I'm worried about you, but it's not like I cry over every bruise you get. I'm your fucking friend who supported you and was there for you when you needed it. And for some reason you're being a total asshole and hiding everything from me." - You almost shouted.

Jungkook doesn't understand why he's treating you like this. He really should be more open with you, but every time he wants to tell you something, this damn 'protect her at all costs' thing kicks in. It's all because of where he works.

To protect you from the world Jungkook lives in, you have to know nothing. He's been hiding the truth for a long time, and not just from you, but from his parents and brother. He's used to lying about his job and his lifestyle. You know, complaining about being hit in the head with a gun during a racketeering operation is not something you can usually talk about.

He knew he was taking a risk when he asked you to live with him. But he didn't think you'd be that curious. Have you always been like this? For a while, everything was fine, and Jungkook was skillful at dodging questions. He thought he could do it, and maybe he would have succeeded if it weren't for the fact that you started fucking and Doohoon showed up. It was his actions that got you to Japan and to that damn bag.

"My work is a serious matter. It's not something you can tell just anyone. It's not sitting at the checkout in a store and then coming and telling how you were scolded for not giving a discount. It's not just security, it's high-level security, and I have to be careful in every detail. Weapons are a part of it, and I can't just open up these things." - Jungkook explained, giving an example of how you once called and complained to him after meeting with an unpleasant customer. Your face was distorted by anger.

"So I'm 'anyone' to you, which explains why you didn't say anything for so long." - You feel disappointed and hurt. You shared everything with Jungkook, everything without exception, and he just couldn't tell you where he worked and what he did. You would have understood everything, you wouldn't have been the person who pestered him with phrases like "I'm so worried", "maybe you should quit" and so on. You have always been his support and backbone. Why did he forget that at some point and start hiding everything?

"You're clinging to the words Y/N. I didn't tell you because, first of all, I didn't want you to worry that I was dealing with weapons, and secondly, I'm not allowed to say anything at all about work because it's completely about anonymity. And you know very well that you are very important to me, not just anyone." - Jungkook argues. You laugh sadly. You're so sick of this shit. Just a week ago, he promised to tell you the truth, but you caught him hiding something from you again. And to be honest, his ‘I bought a new guns because we always buy in Japan’ sounds so lame.

"Listen, Jungkook, do I look like some kind of stupid girl to you? Do you think when you told me you work for a security company that I don't guess that you deal with guns? Do you think, thatI think you protect people with sticks and arrows? Or what? Fuck..." - You swear to get rid of the anger inside you. "I perceive any information adequately. And for some reason I thought you knew me and could trust me with anything."

"You don't understand me." - Jungkook said rudely. He irritably took off his robe and threw it on the bed. How can you not understand that he is protecting you? You were dumbfounded at the sight of his naked body.

His beautifully muscled body distracted you greatly. You remembered how you had sex with him in the bathhouse just half an hour ago. Jungkook irritably took his clothes and began to change in silence.

"For me to understand you, a genius, you needs tell something to me. Or at least explain your actions." - You replied sarcastically. Jungkook, who had already put on his sweatpants, looked up at you. He came up to you without a shirt and with his torso completely bare, which was a distraction. You tried to look only into his eyes. He came close and you were not afraid of him. You realized that he would never hurt you, even if he had ten bags full of weapons.

"You are as daring as ever, baby, in your words." - Jungkook said calmly. "If I don't tell you something, it means I have personal reasons. You have no right to tell me what to tell you and what not to tell you. All you need to know is that I care about you." - Jungkook fell silent and you felt his tone send a shock through your body.

"How do you care about me? Ha Jeon?" - You asked with a poisonous smile. "You hide your life, from me, your friends, your girlfriends, and now you're telling me that's what 'caring' means? You're acting like a fucking gangster, hiding who you are and 'protecting' me." - Your voice turns slyly sweet. But your expression is pure anger. Jungkook looks down at you from the height of his height, right into your eyes. It seems as if he is covering the entire space with himself. His face is literally 20 centimeters away, but you are not afraid.

"I told you about the work, just not in detail. I introduced you to all my friends. As for girlfriends, I thought you weren't interested. They always pissed you off. Why do you think I'm a gangster? " - Jungkook says, and a cocky smile appears on his face. You boil with anger.

"’I care about you. But I'm not telling you what I'm dealing with because I'm shooting a gun. I introduced you to my friends, but you don't fucking need to know who they are. I'm not home for days at a time, and you don't need to know where I am or what I'm doing’." - You imitated Jungkook in a very mocking tone. "You're trying to keep me away from your real life. That's what gangsters or assholes do." - You said without emotion. Although you are very angry. Jungkook is silent for longer than necessary. You can almost physically see the flashes of lightning that radiate from you and him eyes.

"Don't get involved in something you shouldn't." - Jungkook suddenly says. His tone is warning, but you take it as a threat. You notice that he doesn't deny his involvement in the gangsterism. But why would Jungkook be a gangster? It’s for sure he's done with illegal fighting?

"I don't interfere. It was you who brought the bag of weapons to our room and didn't hide it from me carefully. All I want is an explanation." - You say with irritation. "Tell me the truth for once. Just without this 'I'm protecting you' bullshit. Why do you need this weapon?" - You ask and Jungkook is silent again for a long time.

He's hesitant about what to say. He looks into your unyielding eyes and doesn't know what to said. Jungkook recalls Jimin's words, and he claims that you will understand him. But he is afraid that if he tells you, you will turn away or even worse, get into danger. And all because of what he's become. He's already put you in danger, for fuck's sake. The fact that you live with him makes Doohoon even more annoying. If he knew he liked you, he would never have asked you to live with him.

"I need all this guns for my job." - Jungkook says, and it's really true. "That's all you need to know." - He decided he wouldn't tell you. Because you are the only light in his dark life and you have to stay that way. Even if you're didn’t want to still with him, he needs to know that you're alive and that no one will ever touch you. He will take care of it.

You close your eyes against the fierce irritation. Why are you here? Why are you asking all these questions? Why are you living with him? Why are you friends with a man who doesn't trust you with anything? You open your eyes and see Jungkook's serious gaze.

"Okay." - You say and clear your throat. "Then I guess I'll go." - You're about to walk away, but Jungkook stops you. You want to scream for him to let you go, but you feel his lips on yours. You try to fight him off, but he presses you closer and deepens the kiss. His kiss is demanding and even controlling. You are intoxicated by this sensation and forget for a moment that you were just fighting. His hands are clutching yours to keep you from pulling away because he desperately needs you. You can feel how it sets you on fire. But you recover as soon as he stops kissing you. You want to hit him for the ease with which he can influence you.

But he saw it coming, because you're absolutely chained in his arms. He looks into your eyes for a moment and then pulls you to his chest. You can smell his perfume and hear his heart beating next to your ear.

"Don't go!" - He asks. "Please understand me, I can't tell you everything. It's not safe for you." - He argues. But you feel nothing but intense resentment.

"Let me go." - You say colorlessly.

"No." - Jungkook refuses.

"I swear Jeon, if you don't let me go..." - You would have finished this sentence by threatening to kick him in the balls, but at that moment Jimin, who had knocked before, enters the room.

"Jungkook, you didn't lock the door... I was looking for you with Y/N..." - He sees you two hugging and freezes in the doorway. "Oh sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt..." - He turns away and Jungkook loosens his grip. You drop Jungkook's hands and walk away.

Later that night, your group is sitting in a restaurant. You sit down away from Jungkook and only came because Taehyung persuaded you to. He was the only one you knew well out of everyone. So your seat was next to him. No one noticed that you weren't talking to Jungkook at all because the conversation at the table was lively.

You remember when waitress brought another round of beer and Jimin said that he had met his old Japanese friend. They talked about business, and the friend mentioned a Christmas party he will throwing at a restaurant in the Hirafu district. It was some kind of an elite establishment because Hoseok had rated it. The whole story ended with your whole company being invited to the party.

That's why you're a today going downtown with Jungkook. He offered to buy you a suitable dress because you didn't bring anything with you. You couldn't say no, even though you really wanted to. But you couldn't go to the party in a ski suit or jeans. You could have gone with Taehyung, but that would have been weird, and everyone would have suspected that you weren't talking to each other because Jungkook had suggested that you buy something suitable in front of everyone. As usual, he left you no choice.

You were so angry at everything that was happening. You would have been better off going to Suwon, sitting at home by the fireplace, and enjoying your parents looking at the gifts you bought.

When the two of you finally arrived at one of the upscale boutiques in the city center. Jungkook turned off the engine and you immediately got out of the car and headed into the store. It was as if you knew where to go and what to do. But really, you didn't care what you wore to this party tonight, you just wanted to get it over with.

The boutique had a festive atmosphere: garlands were shining everywhere, and the air was filled with the light scent of Christmas trees and cinnamon.

You were silently looking at the dresses, touching the fabrics, and one caught your eye. It was a delicate champagne-colored dress with a long train, off-the-shoulder, and plunging neckline. It was both elegant and charming, and made you look very attractive, emphasizing your best parts.

"Try this one on." - Jungkook said quietly as he came closer, but you didn't answer, just took the dress and went to the fitting room.

When you came out, he froze. Your silhouette looked incredibly delicate and graceful, but at the same time so hot that he couldn't take his eyes off you. Jungkook was looking at your figure without hesitation, and you were annoyed. You could see the delight in his eyes. The last time he saw you in a dress was at your graduation. He was stunned by how beautiful you looked then. But now you look even more beautiful and alluring. And in an instant, Jungkook realized that everyone will be able to look at your beauty at that party, and he will be angry that he is not the only one who can enjoy it.

He even forgot that you were still angry with him. His lips stretched slightly into a smile, but he said nothing, just couldn't take his eyes off you.

"You look..." - He finally muttered, but you cut him off.

"Don't do that, Jungkook. Just choose if it suits you and let's go." - Your voice was cold. You took the dress off and handed it to him as you left the fitting room.

"Maybe you want to try on another one?" - He asked carefully, trying to make his voice sound casual.

"No." - You said without even looking in his direction. Jungkook felt irritated. Your cold demeanor pissed him the hell off.

As soon as the dress was purchased, you headed out without waiting a second. You wanted to get in the car as soon as possible, arrive at the hotel and lock yourself in a room. Jungkook was annoying you terribly, because you saw how he wanted to make up. But he has a serious offense, and it's not just about guns or hiding the truth.

Last night you couldn't sleep for a long time after you came home from the restaurant. You left before everyone else, citing fatigue. You locked the door to your bedroom so that Jungkook wouldn't come and analyzed your friendship with him. It turns out that you two stopped being normal when he went to university. And remembering the fact that it was then that he started to engage in illegal fighting, you thought: what if he really is somehow connected to crime?

Remembering the car in which you had sex with him and his clothes that day. You said he looked like the Mafia. God, no. That's not possible. Because it's Jungkook. He's just Jungkook. A kind, funny, cocky guy who only thinks about sports and girls. That's how you knew him.

For almost three years, you haven't had a normal conversation with him. You saw each other a few times a year, but you talked on the phone. You didn't notice any changes because he was probably hiding everything.

It was only after you started living together that you noticed that he became withdrawn, it was about his life. You were constantly asking him everything, and his answer was either some kind of joke or he skillfully avoided answering. That's it. Your "best friendship" ended when Jungkook graduated from high school.

You decided that you didn't want to sit in the front seat and feel the terrible tension between you. When Jungkook unlocked the car, you went to the back seat and climbed into the seat behind him. It took him a while to realize where you were, but as soon as he noticed that you were in the back seat, and in added you were behind him, he knew that things were going to be tough. This needs to be resolved somehow.

"Why did you sit there?" - Jungkook asked, out of the annoying you'd aroused in him back at the boutique. You didn't say anything. He waited a few long seconds. "Y/N! I'm talking to you!" - He barked, turning to you from the driver's seat. You gave him a completely indifferent look with a little disapproval and continued to scroll through your phone. Jungkook cursed loudly. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

You didn't look where you were going because you were looking at your phone the whole time. But when the car stopped, you realized that you couldn't have gotten hotel that fast.

When you looked up from your phone, you saw Jungkook get out of the car and slam the door loudly. You followed him through the windshield and when he was at the back door, you tried to figure out what was going on.

Jungkook abruptly opened the door and you met his angry gaze. In a moment, he was on the seat next to you. He unceremoniously snatched your phone and threw it somewhere on the other seat.

"What are you doing?" - You protested.

"Fuck Y/N, you're driving me crazy. Say something already! Because I'm tired of talking to silence!" - Jungkook didn't yell at you that hard, but he was talking too loud.

"What's wrong, dear? Don't you like being ignored? I'm sorry I'm not so good at hiding my true face." - You said mockingly. Jungkook seemed to go crazy. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, not to hurt you, but to make you look at him.

"You like to run your mouth, I know. But why can't we talk about things normally?" - Jungkook asks, and you hear your breath coming faster.

"What's the point of talking to you? You're never going to tell the truth anyway." - You say, sharply.

"Why are you so fucking stubborn? I've told you more than you need to know. I'm keeping quiet for your own goddamn safety." - Jungkook explains once again.

"I'm stubborn?" - You laugh hysterically. "You mean I'm supposed to act like nothing happened, ignoring the way you're always hiding things?"

"I explained everything." - Jungkook says briefly, more calmly.

"You explained it." - You repeat. "Your 'serious work' that requires weapons? That's a great explanation. Do you want me to applaud you for that? What about everything else?".

Jungkook was draining you harder and harder. When will this situation end?

"I'm protecting you, when will you realize that?" - Jungkook tried to get through to you.

"What the fuck are you protecting me from?" - You screamed. Jungkook didn't know where the anger came from. He pulled you a few centimeters closer to him in one sharp movement. Your eyes were frightened because you did not expect him to grab you. But the fright was immediately replaced by rage.

"From yourself." - He said with a threatening tone. You clearly did not expect to hear this. You held your breath.

"What is this nonsense?" - You ask. He silently studies your face. You are losing all patience. "Hey, Jeon!" - You shout. "What the hell did you just say?"

"You better not say anything else to me. You're making me really angry." - Jungkook warned you. You smiled defiantly at him.

"Are you crazy? You started all this..." - You said, but he interrupted you.

"Yeah, and you're the one who drove me crazy." - He says in a low, hoarse voice that echoes in your head. You feel mixed feelings of anger and desire when he says that you drove him crazy. It's not right to feel this way.

You want to get out of his space. But this is Jungkook, he never lets you go. He pulls you so that his lips touch your ear. His lips are hot, and you can't help but feel frost on your skin.

"You completely and utterly make my roof go. And even now, all I can think about is how to fuck you so hard here that you'll shut your pesky little mouth." - You hear his low and threatening voice. You shouldn't be doing this, but his tone makes you instantly wet. You want to hit yourself for reacting this way.

He leans back and looks at you as if you are the only thing that matters to him right now. His eyes burn with an incomprehensible fire-a mixture of anger, passion, and something you can't quite put your finger on. He lets go of your hand, placing it somewhere on the headrest of the seat.

"You so sure I want you to fuck me?" - You say cheekily. He smiles slyly. He knows you're lying. His eyes fall to your crotch. Jungkook touches the waistband of your sweatpants with his free hand. He looked up at the same time as you did, because you were watching his movements too. You looked at each other with fierce desire.

"We're going to find out." - Jungkook says hoarsely. He puts his hand in your pants and easily passes the underwear. As his fingers part your folds, he feels your wetness. And fuck, you're just flowing. Now he smiles cockily when he sees you trying to hold back a moan, closing your eyes.

"Look at me." - He orders, moving his fingers ruthlessly over your clit. You obey him immediately and open your eyes. Jungkook's gaze is dark, completely saturated with lust. You seem to get even wetter when you hear that commanding, husky voice.

"Go ahead and say you want me to fuck you." - Jungkook says with authority. You spread your legs wider to give him access to your very wet pussy. As he plunges his fingers into your passage, you grab the seat and can no longer hold back your pleasure.

You moan, which makes Jungkook get harder and harder. Your moans are the best melody for his ears. He plunges his fingers into you so deeply that you start to want more. Your moans become like whimpers because you want Jungkook to fuck you. Hard, gently, whatever, let him do it. You're such a liar.

"Go ahead and beg me, I want to hear you ask me to shove my cock deep inside you." - Jungkook says in your ear as he continues his torture. He bites your ear and you just feel a crazy rush of unbridled desire. God, you can beg him as much as you want, to make it's already happened.

"Fuck Jungkook, fuck me!" - You beg, just as he asked. Your voice sounds desperate. Jungkook smiles, you didn't resist for long. He kisses your neck, freeing it from clothes and hair, and kisses it so that there will definitely be hickeys. He doesn't care how you going hide them.

"Ask for it better." - He murmurs against your skin. You feel dizzy from his fingers inside you. You wonder if you can come just from Jungkook's fingers.

"Please... Kook... fuck me hard." - You beg. He pulls away from your neck, leaving a few strong hickeys, and pounces on your lips. His tongue takes over your mouth like a master. He kisses you so hard that you are going to come from everything he does to you. But just as you think you're about to come, he pulls his fingers out of you and away from your lips. You breathe heavily and try to understand why he didn't finish what he started.

"You didn't think I was going to let you come on my fingers, did you?" - He asks, plunging them into his mouth. He sucks on your wetness and then smiles cheekily. "Only on my cock."

"You could have let me come." - You rebel, your eyebrows raised.

"It's a punishment for your annoying tiny mouth." - Jungkook says. You push him away angrily, but he hardly doesn’t move. How dare he not let you come? You begged him.

"Asshole." - You are offended. Jungkook grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

"You didn't ask well. You should try harder." - Your friend says with authority. You lose your mind at this tone.

"Go to hell." - You cut him off. Jungkook is amused by your anger. He chuckles softly.

"Right after I fuck you here, my love." - He takes off his jacket and you watch him with an angry look. He throws it somewhere on the seat and then moves closer to you to undress you, so that you have as little clothing as possible. He takes off your puffy short jacket, which you have not buttoned, and you see a sly glint in his eyes.

"I haven't even asked well you yet, and you're already undressing me?" - You say with a gloating smile. You're provoking Jungkook. He grabs you and you whimper from the unexpected movement. In an instant, you're on Jungkook's lap. He turns you onto your stomach and locks you in. "What the hell are you...?" - You scream, but then you feel him pulling your pants with underwear down to your ankles and your voice catches in your throat. He touches your wet cunt and smears the moisture all over your labia minora. You bite your lip to hold back a moan. You feel your face burning, and you don't know whether it's because of shame or the intimacy of the situation. You grip the seat until your fingers turn white.

What you don't expect is that Jungkook will hit you on the ass. It's not a hard blow, but it's noticeable.

"What a cheeky girl you are. Do you think you won't be punished for your long mouth?" - Jungkook says tensely in your direction. He says the words slowly with visible control. Your pussy gets wetter and you feel a pleasant ache in your lower abdomen.

He hits you again and you hear that sinful sound. You fucking love it. You whimper when his hand touches your cunt and then his fingers sink inside you. You can feel his hard cock resting on your stomach.

"Do you get so excited about being slapped on the ass, my little whore? A few minutes ago you were so brave and confident. Why do you seem so small now? You're not answering? Wait until I'm there to shut you up myself." - You hear his excited voice. He is tormenting you with his finger, and you just want him to fuck you. Your desire is strong. You just want to feel him fill you as deeply as possible.

"Jungkook..." - His name comes out of your mouth. You feel him touching your clit and making circular, almost gentle movements that make you go crazy with pleasure.

When you feel your orgasm approaching, you can't hold back your moans. They fill the entire space around you. Jungkook will feel his hard cock twitching at these sounds and the sight of your wet naked pussy and buttocks. Fuck, he just dreams of shoving his cock inside you and fucking you so hard you can't sit up.

Your loud, long moan means you came. Jungkook feels your clit twitching with his fingers. You lay your head down on the seat exhausted and don't care that you're naked right in front of Jungkook's eyes. Your body, relaxed and trembling. Your breathing was becoming steadier, but still lost somewhere between deep sighs and a barely audible moan that remained echoing on your lips.

You tried to get up. But you felt a hand on your ass. You stopped, waiting for what would happen next.

Jungkook was already eager to take you completely.

"Did you like it?" - Jungkook asks you. You are embarrassed, but you have to tell the truth.

"Yes." - You say quietly. Jungkook sits you on his lap. His horny cock rests in your ass.

"Say it again, baby, I didn't hear you." - He asks greedily, his eyes ravaging your face, especially your lips. You're embarrassed by the desire in his eyes, but at the same time you feel confident.

"I liked the way you punished me." - You say in a firmer voice. Jungkook smiles, his lip tenses and you see the hole from the piercing stretch.

Jungkook takes your face in his palm and kisses you. You feel those plump lips and can't get enough of that touch. Your tongues intertwine and you can feel once again how much you like to feel Jungkook on your lips. He as a usual, becomes necessary to you.

He plays with your mouth while holding your cheeks with one hand. He is in complete control of you and you just can't resist this power. You want to stay in this position and you don't know what Jungkook has done to you. If he could read your mind, he would be shocked at how much you want to be controlled by him.

Your lungs are burning and you have to pull away from each other. When your lips part, you slowly open your eyes and see Jungkook's smile.

"Baby, take off your clothes, I have to fuck your little cunt." - You silently do as he asks, undressing on his lap. You take off your shoes, sweaters, and a bra. You are left completely naked. He looks at you impatiently, and the moment your breasts are exposed, he immediately grabs them in his hands. His tongue is already on your nipple and biting it. You hiss in pain and pleasure.

"Stand up. I'll take off my pants." - He orders you and you sit down where you were before Jungkook "punished" you. You see a wet spot on his fly. He laughs gloatingly and undoes his button. "Do you see how you wet me?" - Jungkook asks, taking off his pants and shoes at the same time. You don't answer, just watch in fascination and wait for the moment when you can ride him.

Jungkook does it quickly. He's already taken off his boxers, freeing up his erect cock. It's thick, pre-cum dripping from the end, and the head of his cock is purple and begging for attention.

Jungkook stands up and turns around to face you. You can see his cock bumping against his thighs. He throws some of your things behind your back and says.

"Get down on all fours." - You do as he says. You get down on the seat on all fours, showing him the perfect picture of your swollen, needy pussy. You can feel your cum dripping out of it, running down your inner thighs. Jungkook puts his cock on your ass and pounds you with it several times. He uses his fingers to spread your wetness.

Your head falls down when you finally feel the touch there. "You'll swallow me perfectly, baby." - He comments on your wetness. God, he should hurry. Jungkook puts the head of his cock against your hole and you can't get enough of the sensations. The way his big thick cock stretches your walls.

Jungkook waits no more than a second and starts fucking you. You moan. Why does it feel so fucking good? It's so amazing.

"Yes... so good." - You moan. Jungkook has one hand on your hip, and the other hand is on your back, possessively. When Jungkook wants to get deeper into your passage, he grabs your hips tightly and fucks you with sharp, deep thrusts. You can hear your bodies grinding against each other, making the most sinful sounds you've ever heard. His balls are slamming into your asshole. There is no end to your blissful feeling. Jungkook plunges deep into you, stopping when you feel him twitching inside.

Jungkook leans his torso against your back. He caresses your clit and fucks your cunt at the same time. His hot breath burns he presses his lips to yours ear.

"Does my little whore like it when I fuck her?" - Instead of answering, you let out a languid exhale at his low, sexy voice. Jungkook is not satisfied that you don't answer. He slams into you sharply and hard, pushing his cock into you mercilessly. "Answer me when I ask you." - He says roughly. How does he know you like it when he's so bossy? Do you make loud, long moans.

"Yes... fuck yes Jungkook, I like the way you fuck!" you say, and you're choking on the sensations.

"Do you want me to be gentle?" - He asks biting your ear. Would you like that? Probably not. Maybe not this time.

"No." - You exhale. "I like..."

"You like me fucking you like a whore?" - He says, still in your ear. Yes. You fucking love it. His cock, which is so hard and deep inside you, reaching your uterus. He makes you feel high. And his roughness and possessiveness make you a lustful bitch.

"Yes, Jungkook, I'm going to come…" - You say as his movements make you dizzy. As soon as he hears that, he comes out of you. You freeze. Did he came out? You turn to make sure Jungkook is still there when he grabs you and puts you on the seat.

"Make yourself comfortable." - He says.

"Why the hell are you teasing me today?" - You say, catching your breath. He's already stopped you from coming twice when you wanted to. Jungkook laughs gloatingly out of the corner of his mouth. He helps you lie down.

You end up on your back, your head on things, and you can smell Jungkook's perfume. It looks like his jacket. He lifts your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. One of his legs, bent at the knee, is positioned near your hip, the other is on the floor, he will use this leg as a fulcrum.

He takes his cock in his hand, which is completely covered in yours and his semen, and plunges into you again. He exhales slowly, almost moaning. When he fills you with his cock again, you calm down, and you are no longer angry. He makes a few turns with his hips to get better positioned between your legs. But Jungkook remembers how you complained just now. Does he have to teach you a lesson again?

"If you open your mouth again without my permission, I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to sit up!" - He says into your lips. You smile provocatively. These words sound promising and arouse a burning desire.

"Let’s! Make me shut up…or scream." - You say with the same smile. Jungkook raises his eyebrows and is almost happy that you didn't listen to him. Now he's turning you into a mess. He warned you.

He fills your lips. Kissing you passionately with his tongue. His lips move insistently against yours. He bites your lower lip, releasing it with a tug. Jungkook starts to push you. Setting a normal pace at first.

It doesn't last long, at some point he straightens up and half gets out of you.

Then he lowers your legs and bends them at the knees and approaches you again. All this time, you do not take your eyes off each other.

He puts one hand on your chest and bends the other at the elbow and places it near your head. So you are pressed tightly together. He starts fucking you so deeply and hard that you roll your eyes in pleasure. Each of his thrusts is accompanied by the worst sound of your wet cunt. He sometimes kisses your lips.

Your neck tempts him. Jungkook runs his tongue around your neck to taste it. He sucks the skin on your chest and bites your erect nipples. You scream and moan at the same time. The pain of these kisses is too pleasant. You can't even imagine how you wear a dress with all this stuff on my neck and chest.

His fast movements change to slow ones. He slowly pushes his cock into you to the very end, and then picks up the pace again. Jungkook is like that insatiable man who wants to take maximum pleasure from you. Your tight cunt gives him the most pleasure of anyone he has ever fucked. Your nails dig into his skin. You're trying to cut through his biceps with one and the skin on his back with the other. You scream in his ear, and it's probably a good thing he stopped at the side of the woods on the way to the hotel, otherwise half the city would have heard you.

"Kook... I can't." - You said whimpering.

"Can't do what, baby?" - Jungkook asks breathlessly. You both are drenched in sweat and smell like sex.

"I...I...I can't take it." - You say breathlessly.

"Yes you can, my little slut. I have to fuck you hard!" - Jungkook assures you. You feel the knot in the bottom of your stomach about to burst and release the most blissful pleasure.

Jungkook can't help but moan as he feels your walls tighten around him. He realizes that he won't have time to get out of you because his orgasm comes so suddenly and quickly. You cum at the same time as Jungkook. You whimper his name and feel his hot sperm filling your vagina. When you're orgasming, you don't realize what just happened. Jungkook's cock twitches, filling you to the brim.

Your friend puts his head down on your shoulder and you both breathe frantically trying to catch your breath. When Jungkook softens inside you, you open your eyes and look up at the ceiling of the car.

"Did you just cum inside me?" - You ask in a slightly hoarse voice. You realize that now Jungkook is lying on top of you and his cock is inside you without a condom. He lifts his head from your shoulder and you notice a few strands of his bangs are strayed by sweat. He's been working hard. He has a worried and guilty look on his face.

"Fuck, baby, I didn't have time..." - He says, breathing deeply. You panic. Jungkook looks at you and realizes that you are terrified. But he knows that if you take emergency contraception in the first 72 hours, you won't get pregnant. He has had such cases and he knows it well. Unless, of course, you ovulated. "Everything is fine. You haven't ovulated, have you?" - Jungkook asks to make sure everything is okay.

"I did a few days ago." - You answer. Jungkook sighs in relief and you notice. He gently withdraws from you and the semen flows out of your entrance. Jungkook finds some napkins and helps you wipe yourself. You sit up and feel how sore everything is. Your pussy is swollen and your entrance is on fire. You can still phantom feel Jungkook's cock. He was right when he said you wouldn't be able to sit up.

"We'll go to the pharmacy now and I'll buy you some birth control pills. Everything will be fine, you won't get pregnant." - You put on your underwear and freeze when he talks about pregnancy. God, this can't be happening.

"Okay. But you're an asshole, I really can't sit down now." - You complain. Jungkook pulls you to him, cupping your face in his hands.

"You're so good, you accepted me so well." - Jungkook says and kisses you. Slowly and gently, savoring his favorite lips.

"I would say too well." - You joke as you pull away from his lips. Jungkook pecks your lips one last time and quickly gets dressed.

It seems like you've made up, but it's obvious that you haven't solved any problems. You need to take care of the immediate problem of the unwanted pregnancy first, and then you'll deal with everything else.

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[snwpcktz]

A PIN STRAIGHT TO MY HEART

PAIRING: jungwon x fem!reader

GENRE: high school au, classmates to lovers, acquaintances to lovers, fluff

SYNOPSIS: the famous decelis academy confession board is where students pin their written feelings on an anonymous sticky note in hopes of their crush reading it. for y/n, this is the perfect opportunity to finally come to terms with the feelings she has for her classmate--yang jungwon. she has everything planned out, from the color of the sticky note she would be using (blue, it's jungwon's favorite color) to the location she would pin it on the board (smackdown in the middle of the decorative heart the student council put up for valentine's day ages ago). but what happens when y/n sees jungwon pinning his own confession note mere seconds before she planned to?

WARNINGS: mutual pining, little jealousy, swearing, reader is a little oblivious, reader uses she/her pronouns, mentions of other idols (sunoo, niki, wonyoung, minji, rei, intak, minjae)

WC: 5.3k

NOTE: hello everyone! here's my first fic, sorry that it took so long! i hope that the wait from the teaser wasn't bad! and ofc i'm open to any and all feedback :) pls enjoy the read!

"should i do it?"

wonyoung sighed for the nth time. "y/n, you ask me this every ten minutes and i give you the exact same answer. do it! there's nothing to lose since it's anonymous."

"yeah, but i want him to know it's from me," y/n mumbled, picking at the food on her lunch tray.

"then put your name on it."

"but what if he rejects me after that?"

"then don't put your name on it."

"but i need him to know that i like him!"

"goddamn it, y/n!" wonyoung groaned, massaging her head with her hands. "at this point just confess in person. you're really stressing me out here."

y/n rolled her eyes. "but i have like a 99.999999999% chance of rejection if i do that."

"and that's why we decided to do the confession board!" wonyoung retorted. "look, we're getting nowhere with this, so i suggest that you take my advice and- you're not even listening to me."

wonyoung was right--y/n was indeed not at all listening to her. not when the yang jungwon just entered the canteen in all his glory.

crisp uniform, broad shoulders, fluffy hair, and those gorgeous eyes. yang jungwon was just as attractive as he was yesterday. and the day before. and the day before that. scratch that, since freshman year.

the first time y/n met jungwon was in freshman biology, where they were partnered up to dissect a frog. it had been a few months since they had been in the same class, but y/n never interacted with him until they were paired together for the lab. in spite of her ridiculous comments and irritatingly loud reactions, jungwon has completed the lab calmly and with ease, even caring to explain everything she had missed while revolting at the sight of their frog.

once freshman jungwon handed in their neatly written lab report and shot a reassuring (and adorable) smile to his lab partner, y/n knew that the heat rising in her face and the rapid beating in her chest meant that she had taken a liking towards this boy.

and since then, y/n had reserved her heart for the one and only boy who managed to make her tummy flutter with giddiness.

of course, that was from way back in freshman year. has she made any progress since then? absolutely not.

even though the famous decelis academy confession board had been a temptation every single year, y/n simply could not bring herself to pin her feelings on it. but after reading hundreds of anonymous confessions, y/n had decided to finally get over her hopelessness and muster up the courage to post a note of her own. she had an intricate plan set in stone:

step one - purchase blue sticky notes (because blue is jungwon's favorite color) and dog stickers (because y/n found out that he has an adorable dog after stalking his instagram)

step two - write out a heartfelt confession that does not give away y/n's identity but still shows some hints to who she is (this would take several trials)

step three - arrive at school at exactly 8:25 AM on thursday, which is when everyone is trying to get to homeroom and will not be around the confession board located next to the art studio

step four - pin the note right in the middle of the heart from valentine's day so that it's extremely hard to miss

step five - pray that yang jungwon reads it and feels the same and asks y/n out and starts dating her and proposes to her and marries her and they live in a nice house with two kids and a dog until they grow old together

well, step five was pretty unreasonable but the rest of the plan would work! as long as y/n stopped staring at jungwon and actually started to listen to her friend, who was trying to get her to even begin step one.

"if you don't do this, some other girl might snatch him away," wonyoung commented, picking up her chopsticks and pointing them at y/n accusingly. "so you better get to work."

"okay okay, i'll do it!" y/n replied with a soft sigh following her words. "i just hope he reads it."

"he will. as long as you actually make the note," wonyoung added. "you do this every single wednesday. make this one the last time this happens."

"okay, jesus. i will. oh my fucking god."

wonyoung's lips curved into a smile. "good."

8:25 AM on a thursday. y/n was already at school, looking around the arts building for the confession board with her note in her hand. she had spent three hours crafting the perfect confession note for jungwon (the pile of crumpled sticky notes in her trashcan is enough proof of that), neatly writing out each word and carefully decorating it with little dog stickers.

she mentally crossed out step three of her plan as the wood border of the bulletin board came into her sight. it was perfect. an empty hallway with the lights dimmed down and no sounds of other students. this was her one chance to finally pin her confession to the board.

she smiled while looking at the board that was mere steps away. the spot smackdown in the middle of the large pink heart was empty, just as planned. the universe was most definitely on her side.

suddenly, y/n could hear footsteps coming from the opposite end of the hallway. panic rushed to her head as she quickly hid behind a wall near the board, stuffing the note in the pocket of her school blazer.

she peeked her head out to observe whoever was passing by. maybe it was just a teacher. or the janitor. or the theater director. either way, she needed the coast clear for her to pin her note.

the person turned around the corner, closing in on the confession board. y/n squinted her eyes, trying to catch any noticeable features. school uniform, broad shoulders, styled black hair- wait, was that yang jungwon?

y/n's eyes widened as she swallowed down the anxiety in her throat. why was yang jungwon at the confession board at (now) 8:26 AM on a thursday?

jungwon approached the confession board, his back facing y/n from her hiding spot. she could see him pull out something from his pocket and reach over to the container of thumbtack pins to the left of the board. was yang jungwon really posting a confession note?

y/n's suspicions were confirmed when he pushed a red pin through a pink sticky note, right in the empty space in the middle of the pink heart. she could feel her heart beating rapidly as she watched him walk away leisurely, fear creeping into her head once again.

she paused for a minute, unable to calm the pounding in her chest as she slumped against the cold wall. taking one last glance at the board, y/n pushed herself off of the wall and turned around, deciding to head to class.

a million questions were running through her head, but only one overshadowed any other thought she had: did yang jungwon just post a confession to another girl?

y/n felt her frown tugging even further down her face throughout the day. of course, the confession board was a hot topic every single day--especially when someone adds a new sticky note to the board. but y/n didn’t expect that the identity of the author who wrote the latest pink sticky note would be revealed so soon.

“jungwon apparently told a classmate that he wrote it, but he won’t say who it’s to,” a student said while passing y/n’s desk.

and there was that. the mystery recipient. the person who ruined all of y/n’s plans. all she wanted to do was finally confess her feelings with the hope that they could be returned. but what was the point of doing that now when her crush had already confirmed that he has feelings for another girl?

“i think it’s to minji, she’s been talking to jungwon a lot recently.”

y/n let out a frustrated huff after hearing that. she wasn’t in the mood to listen to people talk about possible candidates for jungwon’s mystery crush, especially when she barely had any chance of filling that spot.

wonyoung could only frown sympathetically, watching her friend's gloomy state. she knew how much this confession meant to y/n, but neither of them could have predicted that things would turn out this way.

“do you wanna get food, babe?” wonyoung asked, gently rubbing y/n’s head that was face-planted on her desk. “maybe a snack will help.”

“nothing can cure what i’m feeling right now,” y/n grumbled.

“you need to get up. you’ve been stuck at your desk for almost all of our break.”

“i don’t feel like getting up.”

wonyoung sighed before standing up and stretching her arms. “come on, let’s go get you something to eat. i’ll treat you.”

y/n groaned while sliding out of her seat. “i’m only doing this for free food,” she muttered as wonyoung linked arms with her.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

wonyoung practically dragged y/n by the arm to get to the snack shop, trying to avoid lingering in the hallway when everyone was talking about jungwon’s note.

"did you hear that jungwon confessed to someone? he confirmed it himself!"

"i think he likes rei, she's close with his friend niki."

"it has to be to minji, she's literally the only woman he'll look at."

y/n huffed at the comments flying around her with an uneasy feeling at the pit of her stomach. it upset her to imagine jungwon with another girl, staring into her eyes with love glassed across his own. she squeezed tighter onto wonyoung's arm as they swerved through the crowd, reaching their destination as quickly as possible.

unfortunately, luck was not on their side. the person y/n least wanted to see at the moment was standing at the drinks shelf, surrounded by some of his friends--and minji.

"yang jungwon!" y/n sharply hissed at wonyoung, pulling on the sleeve of the taller girl's blazer. "yang fucking jungwon is here! with minji!"

her friend turned to glance at the said boy and girl and rolled her eyes. "ignore him, let's go get our food."

y/n allowed wonyoung to drag her to the shelf stocked with savory snacks, shooting a small glare at minji before turning her head around.

what she didn't notice was that yang jungwon had recognized her presence the moment she turned around. he held the cold watermelon soda closer to his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart.

"i don't know why people think it's me, i'm already in a relationship," minji sighed, fiddling with the strawberry milk in her hands.

"well, you do spend a lot of time with jungwon," niki reasoned, leaning against a nearby wall. "at least in terms of girl-space-friends. he doesn't have a lot of game."

"but some people think it's rei and she doesn't spend a lot of time with jungwon," minji countered. "actually, i don't think i've seen them interact since they've been introduced to each other."

"so if it's not minji or rei, who is it?" sunoo questioned.

all three students turned to look at jungwon, who slowly snapped out of his daze. "huh?"

"who'd you write the note to, won?" minji asked.

"i don't think i can answer that," jungwon mumbled, clenching the soda can tighter. "i'd prefer to keep that private."

"come on, we're your closest friends!" niki groaned, frowning at jungwon's response. "you can tell us--in exchange, we'll help you get the girl."

jungwon paused, pondering over niki's offer for a moment with his friend's eager stares fixated on him. he let out a brief sigh before answering, "fine. i'll give you a small hint."

his friends gasped, anticipation evident on their faces. jungwon took another quick glance at y/n, who was searching for seaweed-flavored chips, and felt the fluttering feeling in his stomach once again.

"she's in this room with us. right now."

his friends looked at each other with confused expressions. "it's just us four and the cashier...and intak..and minjae...and wonyoung...and y/n," sunoo listed, scanning the entire snack shop.

"the cashier? be so fucking for real right now bro," niki scoffed with a disgusted look on his face. "she's like, 70."

"no, what the fuck?" jungwon grimaced. "i mean someone our age. who do you take me for?"

"oh, i think i know who it is!" minji exclaimed with a smile. "it's y/n, isn't it?"

jungwon widened his eyes. he could feel a sharp rush of heat to his cheeks as he gulped at the mention of her name. minji let out a small chuckle at the boy's obvious reaction.

"really? you haven't talked to her since, like, freshman year," sunoo said, judging the reaction he just witnessed.

"yeah, but she's just so- ugh, you wouldn't understand. did you know that she braids her hair when she's stressed?"

"you're such a creep," niki sighed disappointedly. "no wonder you were always staring at her in class."

"look, she was doing it in first year history during our mock exam and i asked her about it," jungwon explained before glaring at niki. "i am not a creep."

"does she know your note's for her?" minji asked.

"no, i don't think so," jungwon replied with a small frown forming on his face. "i don't even think she likes me back. i mean, i don't really talk to her so i probably just seem weird."

"a creep," niki corrected, poking jungwon's shoulder harshly. "you seem like a creep."

"shut up."

"well, we can help you talk to her again so that you can show your interest," sunoo offered while tucking his phone into the back pocket of his uniform pants. "like right now."

the pink-haired boy whipped his head around to where y/n and wonyoung were standing, who had moved onto the bakery section.

"wonyoung! y/n!"

jungwon smacked sunoo immediately after the two girls' names left his mouth. "what the fuck are you doing," he muttered, trying to clench his lips together to seem like he wasn't talking.

"uh, helping you? duh," sunoo replied with a roll of his eyes.

meanwhile, the two girls stood across the snack shop, frozen with multiple bags of snacks in their arms.

"why did jungwon's friend say our name?" y/n questioned, also clenching her lips in fear that her crush would notice her talking about his friends. "and how does he know we exist?"

"the question is actually how does he know you exist," wonyoung responded before pulling y/n's arm. "come on, let's go see what he wants."

"no!" y/n whisper-yelled. "i can't...he's there...and minji's there..."

"you'll survive," wonyoung sighed. "we're going and that's final."

ignoring her friend's protests, wonyoung dragged y/n over to the group of four. "hi sunoo, what's up?"

"nothing, jungwon just wanted to tell y/n something," sunoo replied with a grin, causing jungwon's eyes to widen in concern.

"he did?" y/n mumbled.

"i did?" jungwon whispered, shooting a glare at sunoo's smiling face.

jungwon glanced at y/n but quickly looked away, swallowing down the nervous bundle in his throat. he didn't know if he could contain himself if he looked one second longer into her curious eyes.

he cleared his throat for an unnaturally long time, causing his friends to send questioning looks towards him. "um, yeah, uh...i, well, i was wondering..."

y/n found herself slightly leaning towards the anxious boy, which only caused jungwon's heart to beat faster.

"uh...do...do you have history next?"

niki rolled his eyes while minji felt the need to facepalm herself.

y/n shot a glance at wonyoung before responding, "um, yeah. why?"

"well, uh..." jungwon felt himself breaking out in a sweat, panicking to make up an excuse. "i was...uh-"

"he wanted to offer his notes to you since he just had history," sunoo quickly covered. jungwon blinked before nodding, swallowing down his anxiety once again.

y/n's eyes widened. it was common for jungwon, an intelligent and diligent student, to offer help to people in academics. but what shocked her was the fact that he offered her his history notes--as if he knew that it was her weakest subject.

she didn't hesitate to accept the offer, sending a wave of relief over jungwon. "uh, i'll drop them off once i get back to my classroom."

"yeah, no problem. thanks for the notes!" y/n replied, shooting a small smile at the boy before allowing wonyoung to drag her to the register.

once the duo was far enough, jungwon turned around to face his friends with an excited smile curled on his face. "did you see that? she smiled at me!"

"yeah, no thanks to yourself," sunoo grumbled. "i did all the work. for free!"

"you're too awkward, jungwon," minji sighed, a pained expression on her face.

"i think you should stick to being a nerd," niki commented. "it...suits you better."

niki spent the rest of the break running away from said nerd.

y/n slumped in her seat, resting her cheek in her left hand and tapping her foot on the ground. she checked the clock above the blackboard. 10:27 AM. three minutes left for jungwon to fulfill his promise.

she let out another sigh. she didn't expect herself to anticipate much from the exchange--after all, he was just offering her his history notes. but she found herself rushing back to her classroom, waiting (and struggling to wait) for his presence at the doorframe while each minute dragged on.

10:28. a frown etched onto y/n's face. the day seemed to just get worse and worse. first, her confession was ruined by her crush himself. next, her crush proceeded to post a confession to another girl. now, her crush failed to complete a promise two minutes before her least favorite class.

another moody sigh. y/n lazily reached into her bag, pulling out her history textbook and her pencil case. she should've known to never trust men, like her mother said. all men are liars.

she slowly flipped through her textbook, feeling her frown drag down even further. the classroom was bustling with chatter, savoring the last couple of minutes before another hour long class. but here she was, slouching in her seat with a gray thundercloud above her head. she could practically visualize wonyoung looking at her pathetically from across the room.

the room came to a sudden silence. y/n sluggishly raised her head. was their history teacher here early?

there he was. yang jungwon, frozen at her classroom's doorframe with a notebook in his hand. his cheeks were flushed with a light pink as he weaved through the students, approaching y/n's desk.

y/n felt herself stop breathing. he did come to fulfill his promise, after all. huh. maybe not all men are liars.

jungwon bashfully smiled at her, gently placing his notebook on her desk. he wasn't hard of hearing, he could tell that everyone was whispering about him--more specifically, about his confession note. all he could hope for was that his crush wasn't super obvious, but he was sure that what he was doing at the moment actually made it 10x more obvious.

"um, here's my notes," jungwon said in a hushed voice, conscious of the sudden volume change. "hopefully they're useful."

"thanks..." y/n mumbled, making eye contact with the boy for a mere second before glancing away. it was too hard for her to contain the pounding feelings in her heart, especially when the yang jungwon had his eyes on her (and only her).

she could only imagine a world where he would stare at her, eyes filled with love and adoration.

"no problem," jungwon replied, noting to himself about how cute she looked today. if only he could sit next to her, one arm around her shoulder and another guiding her through the history material. he would never forgive the administrator who put them in separate classes.

"um, aren't you going to be late?"

y/n's comment snapped him out of his trance, suddenly realizing that he was still standing in front of her desk with students around him still whispering about his confession note. awkward.

jungwon shut his eyes close for a second. she probably thinks i'm a creep. niki, i guess you're right.

"uh, yeah. i'll just...i'll go now."

he mustered up a little courage to send a small wave before rushing out of the room, eyes glued to the floor in front of him.

y/n let out a quiet snicker, finding the boy's awkwardness humorous (and extremely cute). unfortunately, she realized too late that everyone's eyes were still on her and coughed unnaturally loud to cover up her previous reaction.

the sound of heels clicking caused all the students' eyes to rip away from her and immediately slide into their seats. their history teacher was finally here, ready to lead another sleep-inducing lecture.

"good morning class," the history teacher, ms. choi, announced. "please turn to page 127 of your textbooks. we're picking up where we left off from last class with the silla dynasty."

y/n reached for jungwon's notebook as the students around her searched for the page in their textbooks. she easily found the respective page of notes due to the sticky note jungwon had marked the page with.

such a cute pink, y/n thought, brushing her thumb over the familiar-colored sticky note. too bad he used it for a different girl.

it was twenty minutes into the class and y/n found herself extremely bored. although jungwon's notes were perfectly organized and super helpful, y/n couldn't help but feel her attention span slowly decreasing. the textbook was boring, the content was boring, and ms. choi's voice was boring.

she decided to flip through jungwon's notebook. as expected, all of his notes were neatly written with key ideas highlighted and citations to textbook pages. what else could she expect from him?

y/n closed the notebook, running her thumb along the edge of the pages like a flipbook. the glimpses of blue highlighter partially satisfied her boredom, along with the flash of pink at the very end of the notebook. wait, pink?

y/n's curiosity got the best of her as she turned to the end of the notebook, revealing multiple pink sticky notes with lengthy paragraphs and words scratched out in black ink. being the nosy person she is, she decided to read the notes, tuning out ms. choi's monotonous voice.

i've liked you for a long time, but i haven't had the courage to confess.

oh. they were drafts of his confession note.

y/n pursed her lips, taking in a sharp breath. she swallowed down the discomfort she felt and continued to read the notes.

ever since freshman year, i've been attracted to you in so many more ways than i can describe. that sweet smile you show off to your friends. the laugh you let out at small jokes. the tenderness in your eyes as you talk with the cashier in the snack shop. i see why she said that you remind her of her granddaughter.

y/n bitterly smiled. he really likes her, huh?

i like am in love am pathetically in love with you. i feel like a lost puppy, hoping for the smallest interaction with you every single day. i wonder if you can feel my stares from across the lunch room, desperately hoping that you would happen to notice me and look back. i know we haven't talked much since freshman year, but i can't help but imagine us together.

y/n quickly diverted her eyes to a different sticky note, chewing on her lip harshly. she didn't know why, but she couldn't stop reading them, even if his words only caused her more pain.

i hope you can accept this confession, but if you don't like me back i hope we can become friends again. from, your freshman bio partner (p.s. i'm glad that we were paired up for that frog lab)

wait, frog lab? y/n's eyebrows furrowed. the only partner jungwon had for the frog dissection lab in freshman biology was...her.

y/n's heart pounded against her chest. she needed to read whatever note jungwon posted on the confession board, right fucking now.

the moment the bell rang, y/n shoved all of her history materials in her bag. she didn't want to spare a minute from reaching that damned confession board that she had been avoiding since morning.

grabbing jungwon's notebook, y/n joined the crowd of students rushing towards the canteen, forgetting about wonyoung who appeared behind her.

"let's eat with rei today, hm?" wonyoung suggested.

"can't talk right now, won. i need to be somewhere," y/n responded before pushing her way through the crowd.

"y/n, wait!"

y/n ignored her friend's concerned voice, mentally making a note to apologize to her later. she ran through the halls, opposite of all the students heading towards the canteen. hugging the notebook close to her chest, she made a beeline towards the arts building, feeling the beating in her chest increase every single second.

once she arrived, she slowed down her pace, allowing herself to catch her breath and wipe off the light sweat on her forehead. there she stood in the same position she was in at 8:25 AM, right in front of the confession board littered with colorful sticky notes.

a couple of students lingered around the board, checking for any new confessions before heading to lunch. as y/n's breathing slowed down, she approached the center of the board, eyes locked on the pink sticky note posted mere hours ago.

she took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to read the note she had been avoiding all day.

to my freshman year crush, i've liked you for a long time, but i haven't had the courage to confess. that is, until now. ever since freshman year, i've been attracted to you. your smile, your laugh, your kind personality. it's no wonder the cashier at the snack shop says that you remind her of her granddaughter. grandparents only say that to people they know have the purest, sweetest souls on earth, and you are one of them. i am utterly, pathetically, and desperately in love with you. i feel like a lost puppy, hoping for the smallest interaction with you every single day. i wonder if you can feel my longing stares from across the lunch room, hoping that you would happen to notice me and meet my eyes. i know we haven't talked much since freshman year, but i can't help but imagine us together. i wish that i had the courage to confess in person, but i'm afraid of rejection. i hope that this confession comes off well to you, and i 100% understand if you don't like me back. i just hope that we can be friends again, at the very least. from, your freshman bio partner (p.s. i'm glad we were paired up for the frog lab. as taylor swift said, i guess i was enchanted to meet you)

y/n felt her breathing stop as she finished reading the note. it was too good to be true. she needed to talk to him, to confirm with him, and to confess to him.

she wasted no time running to the canteen, earning questioning stares from the students she passed by. the canteen was busy per usual, bustling with student chatter and silverware sounds. y/n skimmed the room, eyes landing on the one person she wanted to talk to.

she rushed towards his table, avoiding the mass of lunch trays around her. "jungwon!" she called.

the said boy looked up from his table, curious round eyes meeting hers. "could i talk to you for a minute?"

jungwon nodded, standing up to follow y/n. what she didn't notice was sunoo winking at jungwon, niki mouthing a "go get her, tiger!", and minji softly smiling with pride.

jungwon followed y/n to the hallway outside of the canteen, trickling with the last students getting their lunches. y/n faced jungwon, feeling her cheeks heat up at the sight of his curious gaze.

"um, i wanted to return this to you," y/n began, handing over his notebook.

"oh, thanks," jungwon replied, taking it into his hands. he felt himself grow a little disappointed--was that all she wanted to tell me?

y/n softly cleared her throat before deciding to continue. "so, uh, this might be in invasion of privacy but i got really bored in history and looked through your notebook and i might have found your sticky notes and i might have read them...without your permission?"

"notes? what notes?" jungwon mumbled, flipping through his notebook. it only took a second of him skimming the sticky notes in the back for him to shut the notebook closed, a furious blush spreading across his face.

"and, uh, i read one that ended with 'from your freshman bio partner' or something like that and it mentioned the frog lab. and then i remembered that i was your partner during that lab but i wasn't sure if you wrote that for sure so i went to check the confession board and it said the same thing so...yeah."

jungwon was frozen, cheeks bright red with panic-stricken eyes. "so...uh, i just wanted to confirm if-"

"yes," jungwon whispered, not daring to meet her eyes. "it- it is about you..."

he squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of silence, preparing himself for rejection. he could already feel the weight in his heart getting heavier, thumping against his chest.

"i, uh, i- i like you too, jungwon."

the boy opened his eyes, shock evident on his face. he whipped his head up, now seeing a y/n with an equally flushed face not meeting his eyes.

"y- you do?"

"yeah," y/n mumbled, a shy smile spreading on her face. "i really, really like you."

jungwon couldn't help but smile back, trying his best to contain the butterflies practically swarming in his stomach.

"so, um, i was actually planning to confess to you today," y/n admitted, earning a surprised reaction from jungwon. "but i saw you post your note on the confession board first and i got scared because...well, i thought that you confessed to someone else."

y/n reached into her blazer's pocket, pulling out the crumpled blue sticky note that she had been hiding the whole day. "i guess i'll just give it to you now since...well, yeah..."

she quickly flattened out the sticky note before handing it to jungwon, who gently took it with a small smile.

to jungwon, i've liked you for so long but i've finally decided to confess. since freshman year, you've been nothing but kind to me. i felt myself melt into a puddle every single time you shot a smile at me or offered your help with something. i can’t help but admire your charming appearance, your charismatic leadership qualities, and the smile that you give to every person alike. you’re loved by so many people and i happened to fall into that same crowd. i know you most likely do not feel the same but i hope that we can talk more, the way we did back in freshman year. from, anonymous

jungwon couldn't help the shy grin growing on his face. every word written completely erased all the anxious emotions he had in his head. this is what it feels like, he thought. this is what it feels like to be loved back.

jungwon didn't need to say anything. he simply took y/n's clammy hand into his, intertwining their shaking fingers together. no words were needed after they had spent hours of their lives writing out their feelings for each other. they shared a smile, feeling secure together and lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes.

for the first time for the day, y/n was glad that jungwon had interrupted her confession, pining his heart on the board so that she could give him hers.

© snwpcktz

taglist: @jngwnlvs

[thesongoficeandfir3]

The burning mill, the family affair, and the forbidden love

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x Fem!Bracken!reader

A/n: Based on the show version of the battle of the burning mill p.s currently working on part 2 of my first story 😋

Warnings: heavy angst, gore, descriptions of wounds, blood, smut is alluded but not described. Lmk if I missed anything

The sound of swords being clashed and men crying out in pain filled the air of the area that joint Bracken and Blackwood’s land. Blood dripped down from the tip of Benjicot's long sword as he looked at the carnage around him, his breathing rapid and ragged. What had started as a small dispute between the Brackens and Blackwoods turned into a full out bloodbath.

He had lost count of the number of Bracken men he had killed. His sword arm ached and trembled while his entire body felt like it was on fire. His body was begging for a moments rest, but Benjicot refused to give into his bodies wishes. He only had one thing and one thing alone on his mind and that was to find you.

As Benjicot struggled and pushed his way across the field he passed many dead or dying men, many of them being his own. They were the same men he knew since he was a boy. He grew up with them, drank with them , laughed with them… his heart ached at the sight, but still he wouldn’t stop moving. He couldn’t stop because not being able to get to you first ached his heart even more.

Benjicot grunted as a sharp, excruciating pain shot through his leg, taking him down. He looked down and saw the leg wound he had sustained earlier had gotten severely worse. The first few moments he got it, Benjicot believed it to be nothing more than a small cut, but now it was bleeding profusely from a deep gash. This along with many other fatal injuries Benjicot could already label himself a deadman. Despite that however….despite the pain he still pushed himself up, stabbing his sword into the wet soil for support and kept going forward. No matter what he was going to get to you even if it killed him.

He knew you were here and fighting. Being the only daughter in your family and growing up with five older brothers you had learned to use a sword and fight.

Benjicot never liked it, not because he didn’t believe a woman should hold a sword but because he was terrified of a day like this one.

He still remembers that night as if it was yesterday. It had been a week since you two finally confessed your feelings for one another despite being from rival houses. It was late at night and you two were deep in the forest far away from both of your families lands. Your naked bodies intertwined laying on a blanket on the forest floor, coming down from your high.

You broke the comfortable silence by saying whenever the day came you’d be fighting with your family, you’d be fighting as a Bracken. Though you loved Benjicot you couldn’t come to terms with the thought of slaying your own family. You knew the moment was not the best time to say something like that, but you had been wanting to say that the moment you realized you loved Benjicot. You wanted to tell him sooner rather than later so it wouldn’t feel like a betrayal. Benjicot didn’t get upset when you said it, for he felt the same he couldn’t fathom slaying his own blood.

You both knew deep down a war between your houses was inevitable. It was not a matter of if, but when.

Despite knowing that however, ever since that day you two never spoke about your family feud when together, as if not speaking on the matter would have prevented the inevitable.

When he finally spots you in the distance, he sees you fighting off a Blackwood man. You would’ve been dead a long time ago since the man was a bull compared to you, but his injuries were far worse than yours. This caused some of his movements to be sloppy and predictable. At this point the Blackwood man had looked like a walking corpse, but he was content on taking you down. It seems he wished for the satisfaction for taking down one more Bracken before the Stranger came for him.

Though he was in worse shape than you, he still managed to stab you in your stomach twice, missing your vital organs by a hair, but still driving the sword deep enough. He raised his sword again ready to go for the final blow. In the moment It seemed like he would have gotten his death wish when suddenly a Bracken man charged towards the Blackwood man, tackling him and causing them both to fall into the river with a large and loud splash. The murky river water slowly turned into a deep shade of crimson as the two men sank to the bottom from their heavy armor.

Once your attacker was gone, your knees buckled and you fell to the ground clutching your wounded stomach. The feeling was warm and sticky and the strong scent of iron filled your nose. Your body trembled and your breathing became heavy. You can feel your heart race quickens as your body desperately attempts to produce more blood than what was being lost rapidly.

You looked down to see how bad your wounds were and was met with the blood staining the gold color of your clothes a darker hue. Your house sigil, the horse, unrecognizable as the blood quickly continues to spread. Knowing there was no hope for you, you allow yourself to lay flat on the ground, staring up at the sky as you wait for death to overcome you.

Benjicot watched as your opponent was struck down before you slumped to the ground. His body had by far reached its limits, but seeing you in that state gave him a wave of adrenaline. He quickly limped as best he could towards you, pushing through the pain of his injury, desperate to reach you.

When he finally reached you, he could see like him you had sustained some injuries all over your body, but it was nothing compared to your stomach wounds. He dropped down to his knees, gently putting his trembling hand on your stomach wound. He presses down on the wound to slow the bleeding, but it attempts were futile as it seemed the blood was coming out even faster.

Benjicot was slowly starting to weaken, all the adrenaline starting to wear off. His wounds were bleeding heavily as well, the blood from it mixing with yours. Still he refused to take his hand off your wound despite his weakening state.

“Ben.” you choked out, your eyelids becoming heavy as you looked up at him, trying to get his attention.

He didn’t look at you, too focused on your wound. It was obvious that neither of you were going to survive, but he still stubbornly tried to stop the bleeding. He desperately wanted if any of you, it be you who lived to see another day.

“Please Ben,” your hand reached his on your stomach weakly trying to pry them off. “I’m so cold,” you say looking up at him through teary eyes, your once beautiful s/c slowly turning pale. “Please just hold me I’m so cold you.” You whimpered out trying your best convince him to stop saving you. You didn’t want either of your final moments wasting time on a lost cause. He finally looked at you, his green eyes filled with sadness as he slowly removed his hand from your wound.

He pulled his cloak off his shoulders and wrapped it around you tightly, trying to give you the warmth your body was no longer able to provide for you. Despite his own pain, he carefully lifted you into his lap and cradled you against his chest, holding you as tightly as he could, his arms wrapping around you as though he could protect you from death itself.

He held you closely, doing his best to transfer his body heat to you to keep you warm. He buried his face in your hair, his breathing ragged and labored. He could feel his strength slowly slipping away, but he didn’t let go of you. Using what little strength he had left, he used it to hold you in a tight warm embrace to ensure you he was there.

As Benjicot holds you familiarity surges through you. You suddenly remember all those cold nights where you found comfort, warmth and safety in his arms and now you realize you’ll never experience that again.

“Ben…..I don’t want to leave you- please I don’t want to go.” Tears streamed down your face, your body so weak you couldn’t even lift your head to look at him as you spoke.

He could hear the fear and despair in your voice, mirroring the same feelings within himself. He wanted to comfort you, to tell you everything would be okay, but he knew it would be a lie. Instead, he just tightened his grip on you, pressing you closer against his chest.

"I’m here," he managed to gasp out, his voice strained. "I’m not leaving you, I promise. He says gently trying to calm you. He could not save you from death, but he could at least promise you won’t be going into it alone.

“I love you Ben… I love you so much.”

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice filled with love and pain. "More than anything."

There were still a few standing survivors from both sides of your family struggling against one another, despite more than half of the field being filled with Blackwood and Bracken corpse. The sound was muffled but you still heard it and you remember why you’re in this situation in the first place.

“I wish our families-”

"I don’t care about our families,” he cut you off. “All that matters is that we’re together. You’re the only thing that matters."

As Benjicot says that you allow yourself to completely relax. He was right, being with him in this moment was the only thing that mattered. The generational feud in your families did not.

He then felt your body grow limp in his arms, your final breath leaving your lips. He pressed a long and gentle kiss on your forehead as tears began streaming down his cheeks. He felt himself grow weaker, his own strength slowly slipping away. With one final, laboured breath, he whispered your name, his voice hoarse and trembling, before his grip on you loosened and he too was gone. The last thing he saw was your beautiful face, peaceful in death.

The two of you remained in each others arms, your bodies lifeless in the aftermath of the battle. Despite the chaos and carnage around you, there was a sense of peace in your final moments together.

It was an odd sight the lord and lady of the rivaling houses, the houses that used the Targaryen conflict just to slay one another, finding peace in each other’s arms. Your deaths, although tragic, would be a testament to the indomitable power of love that can transcend even from the most deep seated of hatred.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

agatha once again protecting billy with her whole body.

"I didn't think it was real! I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit! That I couldn't save her!"

The poison drips through (yes I love Succession). Generational curse, generational trauma. The pain of who knows how many centuries of parents and grandparents and great-grandparents times a thousand. It's like a boulder that you're carrying around on your shoulders, and you can't see it and you can't put a name to it, how could you? How can you possibly know why your mother drank herself stupid, why your grandmother abused her children? You were born yesterday and drank all that poison without knowing what it was, you let it take it over and you walk around spreading it to the world.

And amidst all the pain, alice only ever chose to blame and hurt herself and she was always gentle to others. her biggest regret is not having been able to save her mom! you know why alice never turned into a villain like agatha? because her mom loved her. as simple and as that. lorna was so ill-equipped to save alice, she didn't know what she was up against, she was in a world of pain herself. and she went above and beyond to show her child how infinitely precious and loved she was.

oh wow, I usually say I'm crying as a figure of speech, but I am crying for real thinking about this.

lilia who has lived so long and experienced her big share of suffering, knowing all too well what alice is going through. there's so much compassion in her voice

jen stubbornly refusing to care about anything but her own pain, which is actually a very human way to respond to trauma? it's like she's at a crossroads and it's up to her to choose whether she goes back to being the force of good she used to be, or whether she goes down agatha's same path. I say it's up to her because it ultimately is, but she was so lucky finding this coven and community at such a crucial moment. agatha didn't have any of it.

no! don't apologize, you beautiful, generous soul! the sense of guilt and inferiority complex is real

agatha's face when billy is attacked

she starts running toward him even before alice

but when she gets there she freezes and lets alice go check on him

when she sees he's fine, she sighs and collapses against the door, clutching her chest.

lilia is really starting to get attached to everyone, and throughout her life love and loss have always been inherently linked. she already knows she's going to lose them.

okay jen refusing to leave the circle is still funny, I'll give her that

through all this rio has been watching and studying agatha, she always does. she knows that her diabolically smart wife loves to be in charge and come up with plans. she's being encouraging!

look at how small alice is! she's been helping and consoling billy just a moment ago, despite being miserable herself.

first of all, that's hilarious, so jot that down. second of all, you know agatha is so relieved she has to put on a show instead of doing something icky like, idk, sitting in a circle and talking about their feelings. and look at rio at the drums, she's already put all the clues together as well

oooh, she's doing the thing! she's detectiving! agatha harkness ladies and gentlemen, her hobbies are women, murder and puzzles.

and who gives her the solution? who has had millennia to study and commiserate human love and grief? she says it and she looks at agatha so pointedly.

The song that's so irrevocably linked to Nicky's memory, the song that she's been desecrating and using as a means to kill. A mother took it and poured all her love into it and made it pure again. Agatha has to live with that now, and you know that's going to take root inside her and affect her no matter what

this whole performance is patti going I might be singing backup again but watch me be a total diva about it

I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

you'd think that alice should sing lead vocals here, seeing as it's her trial and her mom's song and all. WELL THINK AGAIN

the massive ego agatha has, honestly. you gotta respect that.

the feeling when you are the only normal person in a group of total hooligans. did I already say how gorgeous sasheer looks in that outfit? no I didn't. you are an apparition, sasheer.

but I want the song to have its own separate entry so hold on tight, brb

go to episode 4 part 5

[bengiyo]

Your Sky: It Seems I Wanted a 2gether Retread

I watched this on a whim yesterday evening and enjoyed it immensely. Not to be the Boss Baby tweet, but I enjoyed how this show set up some of the same parameters as 2gether without making key characters unlikable, or relying on mean humor.

Right off the bat they calibrated the Teerak character well. He's essentially an adorable younger brother all the time. He's clearly coddled, and requires a lot of supervision. However, they made sure to confirm that he's actually an extremely kind character, and that most of his adventures result from him maybe going too far to complete an act of kindness. This character has real potential to be annoying, and they're doing a great job with the line.

Additionally, they've given Teerak a great supporting cast around him. I liked the teamwork dynamics between Lee, Joy, and Type. I liked seeing them fulfill different roles in the group, and I'm excited to get to know them more. Teerak's relationship with Babe is also compelling; I'm excited to see what we get from a caring big sister. I especially loved their meeting the laundromat owner. I hope we see more of her, and that they continue the trend of introducing every new character with a beauty zoom.

Thomas Teetut is also doing a great job with Muenfah. He's playing this character so differently from Gun in The Middleman's Love that I didn't even recognize him right away.

Unlike with Sarawat (2gether), they didn't withhold this character's affection for Teerak for multiple episodes. Like Sarawat, they've gone for cool, aloof, and disinterested in women. I'm curious to learn how long he's had this crush, why he hasn't said anything about it, and why his brother (Lee) is keeping the confidence about it.

I also want to know whose ass he kicked years ago that created this reputation about him being leader of a gang. It's intriguing because we watched multiple people running interference on Oh's pursuit of Teerak. I was wondering at first if Teerak needed to properly reject this man, but based on Oh stealing the outdoor reservation at this restaurant, drugging Teerak's friends, and trying to fight Muenfah, I really don't like this man. They did a great job building to the reveal that Oh ain't shit. They made me feel bad for a Mike character at first, and then validated why I instinctively do not like that man's characters.

I really like the impetus for the fake dating in this one. I like that Muenfah pulled Teerak out of a dangerous situation, and also that a drunk Teerak created a major misunderstanding online from people stalking (please stop filming people in public). It's so much better than we know Muenfah has feelings for Teerak already, and has been protective of him. I'm excited to see how Teerak grows into a shared affection, and how the veneer of fake dating complicates the development of their feelings.

Also, this show is beautiful. Sarawut Chuparkpanich shows always look great. However, every single person linked on the crew has been part of projects that I think showed real potential before flopping badly before even the midpoint. I don't want to get my hopes up too much because of the track record, but damn did I really like this first episode. This is the most engaged with initial characterization I've been with a Thai BL in months, so I hope this one works out. I am still fond of 2gether, despite the missteps of that show, so I'd like to have a better version of it.

I'll pick this up as a regular watch and check in after a few weeks to let you know how I'm feeling about it. Thank you to the gifmakers!

[apricotgojo]

Boyfriend Choso headcannons !

ㅤ♡ Content: Gender neutral!Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, mention of nicotine, just down bad cute boyfie choso ~ SFW ★ A/N - ilovehimsomuchthisisjustpurebrainrot

He's definitely the type to make those lock screens of cute photos of you where the picture changes with every tap of the screen - and all of them are photos which you thought you looked absolutely horrid.

Choso NEEDS to be touching you in one way or another when you're next to him - be it holding hands, locking pinkies together while you walk, letting his hand rest on your thigh, putting his head on your lap or even just grabbing your legs and putting them across his lap just so you can sit comfortably on the couch with him.

Choso has never and will never let you light your own cigarette. It's basically just a silent understanding between you two at this point that you light up both cigs at the same time while he holds the lighter in the middle.

He will send you random photos throughout his day of things he does; random bowls of cereal, him looking annoyed with a cig between his lips with the caption 'bored', pictures of flowers bcs they remind him of you, pictures of cute cats and dogs he encounters outside and oh we cannot forget about the delicious gym mirror pics he sends you where he's shirtless, hair down and has his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth with just 'done ;)' as a caption.

his Instagram is basically just you. no profile photo, no bio just photos with you, of you, you and your cat and every story is about a moment with you.

EVERYONE knows he's in a relationship. He will bring it up in every single conversation he has undoubtedly. "Nice weather we're having." "Yeah, my partner loooves the sun" or "I think i feel sick" "My partner felt sick 5 days ago, actually."

You guys have the cutest but cringiest nicknames for each other and have made up your own nonsensical language.

his favorite nicknames for you are "bunny", "baby", "love of my life," "love -bug", "pretty"

Choso 1000000% uses a baby voice with you and he acts like a little baby when you guys are alone.

he insists on getting matching everything - keychains, rings, shirts, underwear.

If you mention that you remotely like something just prepare yourself to get something related to it the next day. "Choso, why is there a big ass block of brie in our fridge?" "You said you liked it at the restaurant yesterday so i got it." "I said i liked many things at that restaurant Cho~" A small smile, "I know." That's basically how you ended up with a new set of plates, an unholy amount of homemade bread and 3 bottles of vanilla handsoap which smelled exactly like the one at the restaurants bathroom.

although he's quite reserved and quiet in public, with you he can actually be all goofy.

car rides with him are great -he's grabbing your hand between gear changes and loudly singing and dancing with you to your favorite songs.

your tiktok drafts are basically just you and him doing cute couple trends,

he WILL rap along to sexyyred with you every time she comes on AND he will put his entire Chosussy in the dance with you - even if he refused to at first.

he's quite overprotective - he would never hold you back from going out or anything but he needs to know every detail about your plan.

He has a resting bitch face - you're aware of that but what's really funny is that when you're out together with others it only takes a "Cho~?" from you to make his bored face instantly light up with a soft smile. "Yes, my baby?~"

sometimes he asks dumb questions randomly.

"Do you still love me? Because you didn't show me your liked tiktoks yet.."

He is constantly mentioning the future with you - what your house is gonna look like, your future travels, the pets you're gonna have and sometimes he lets it slip up that he wants kids. (but reassures you that he'd be happy without any too, as long as he has you.) <3