#my writing: easy on the eyes easier to hate

[tartagliove]

EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧  fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash. 

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong. 

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours. 

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward. 

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life. 

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

[autism-corner]

they should make a stable mind.

[anyarose011]

Agape

Pairing: Lucius x Reader

Summary: After the Roman Empire had fallen, birthing the Republic, you and Lucius had finally found a moment to breathe in each other's presence. Over a few years' journey of healing, you find that is both exhausting, yet all the more fulfilling at the same time.

Part 2 of 2 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past SA, Depictions of Grief, Violence, Angst, Miscommunication, Historical Inaccuracies [I tried my best to make it kind of accurate], Nudity (sexual and non-sexual), Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex (f receiving), P in V Sex

Paul Mescal's facial hair in All of Us Strangers, if you can hear us, please save us. Nobody ask me how I went from "’Oh, I’m just gonna write some scenes about healing from trauma, and the rest is smut! Easy!" to then making it just a little longer than the first part. I'm a yapper, but holy shit XD. Anyway, this is just shameless pRopAgAnDa at what I personally view a husband to act like (even in modern times). So, without further ado, thousands of words of hurt/comfort and smut.

Word Count: 16.4k

You were a lucky child. When you were twelve and your friend was married off to a man who was forty-two, you asked your father when you would be married.

He tucked you in that night, saying that he wasn’t certain, and that you had nothing to fear; for he wouldn’t promise you to a man who was in a war the same year you were born. He would have to know him personally as well, saying.

“It’s easier to like a man than have to plan his assassination if he dared lay a hand on you.”

You like to think he would have approved of Lucius; he was the once heir to the Roman Empire.

You don’t think he would have approved of your…informal marriage.

“A year.” Lucius stated as the two of you sat together in one of the piazzas. “As long as we are not separated from each other for more than three days, Rome will view us as married if we live in the same household for a year.”

You hummed. “And why should we care what Rome views?”

“Men won’t stop their advances on you if they saw you as my sister.” he explained. “Even as a wife, that doesn’t stir them.”

“It’s a very Christian belief of you to have.”

“But it makes them think thoroughly on if they want to risk tainting you.” Lucius finally looked at you. “Knowing that I would break every finger they touched you with.”

Even with his proclamation, you merely shrugged. “Being the emperor’s favorite whore, I doubt they would care.”

He sighed. “Do you want to know what my mother wrote? Her final words that will forever be with me because they are in ink? ‘Take her as your wife.’”

It had only been one day since Lucilla’s death, since Rome had become a Republic, and no one knew exactly what to do.

Yet…even at the mention of her presence, you felt tears spring to your eyes.

How you hated crying; and crying and crying.

“It is wise.” You finally settled on. “The people here too must see me as a traitor.”

“You would be dead if they did.”

“It’s still early.” You smiled sadly. “I desired to be free of the emperors, but all they must have saw was lust for power.”

Lucius sighed. “If it is a concern, then I believe it is best to leave Rome.”

Suddenly, you were no longer afraid for your life. You scowled. “Leave the city you risked your life to liberate?”

“It is not just my own life I need to think of now, is it?”

“Then think of mine.” you began. “I don’t wish to leave. Where would we even go? I know nothing outside of Rome.”

This would have been solved if you somehow still had the house you grew up in. The moment Geta claimed you, it was gone. Even with the fall of the Empire, and the birth of the Republic, you could not take it back.

Among many other things, you could not take it back.

“We’ll live just outside the walls.” Lucius suggested. “A farm perhaps a few miles from here-.”

“-A farm?” You questioned. “You know how to farm? Because I sure don’t.”

“I’ve lived longer on a farm than I have in a palace.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. You also weren’t in the position to bargain. Even though it wasn’t going to be what most would deem an ‘official’ marriage, he still owned you. That was how it always was, whether living outside of the Roman walls or not. Still, you had to try.

“I will learn as much as I need to,” You shook your head. “but I will find a job in the city. You cannot believe I will be shut out-.”

“-Do you want to share a room, or would you like your own?”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

Lucius restated. “We don’t have any money to buy a farm, so I’ll build us one. Do you want your own room?”

You had only known him for a grand total of a day and a half (if you were to add up all the previous times you had spoken to him before Macrinus’ death), so needless to say, his offer shocked you; more so, it impressed you.

“Isn’t it odd for a man and wife to not share a bed?” You asked.

“So, you want to share a room?”

“No.” was your immediate response. “I just…”

Am not used to compromising with men without them threatening my life.

“Won’t it cost money to build a house?” You asked instead. “None the less, more for another room?”

“I only want you to be happy, if we’re to be married.”

There you were, asking every question and not being satisfied with his answers, yet he was remaining patient.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head in thanks for just a second before questioning. “I am still allowed to have a job in the city? It will help with the cost, of course.”

 “Where exactly do you intend to work?”

He said your name; not ‘Julia’, the name you had whispered to him in his cell. Lucius was the only one who had said it to you, for you did not even tell Lucilla or Marcus. It still felt strange hearing it on your lips, nonetheless, his.

Still, shaking your discomfort away, you hummed humorlessly. “I know two women who run their own businesses; hairdressing and tailoring. I’m better at hair than clothes, but not so much. And you?”

He sighed. “I’ll see if there’s any other farmers needing a hand.”

“You’re going to work for a farmer to build a farm?”

“It sounded more bizarre in your head than when you said it aloud, did it not?”

That was the first thing you found out about Lucius after all the bloodshed and heartbreak of the last week:

He spoke with such a straight tone, you did not know he was joking until he would smile just a hint; you couldn’t really call it a true smile.

You managed to grin. “I suppose it makes sense. You should find one that will let us sleep there.”

And he did. A farm just a few miles outside of Rome took both you and Lucius in. It was substantial, housing five chickens, two cows, three pigs, four horses, and seven human children. Albeit the children helped with the chores, but the eldest was only ten and could not manage any of the heavy lifting whatsoever, which was where Lucius came in.

From sun up to sun down, he’d work on the farm. The farmers, Atticus and Diana, let you sleep in the barn of all places. The hayloft was nice for the both of you; enough space to spread out but not be right next to each other. There was also somewhat of a wall between the two of you, giving the illusion of separate rooms.

It was certainly an adjustment for you; had been sleeping on the softest of beds for months, but even so, you just missed the bed from your old house.

Lucius fell asleep the second he laid on the hay.

Dreams and nightmares were always a peculiar thing. Some days, you would dream of your mother and father, some days, they would be of Lucilla and Marcus.

You had nightmares of what befell you before coming to the farm; Macrinus and his manipulation, Caracalla’s temper, Geta…

Yet, the worst that would happen would be you waking up more tired than the night prior. You knew Lucius was having nightmares too, but every time you approached him, he would lie and say he was fine, or simply not want to speak of it.

You stopped asking.

For the first few days on the farm, you were put to work by watching over the younger children when their mother was busy. Somehow, it was the older ones you didn’t mind, it was the youngest baby who was a handful.

It’s morbid to say, but you always wondered how any of them survived infancy.

Luckily, you managed to get back to Rome after perhaps a week of being stranded on the farm. It was almost an hour walk, and you had gotten up even before Lucius had, but it was worth it.

It wasn’t that you felt dead as you were on the farm per say, but walking through the streets brought a certain kind of life back into your steps.

You spent a good portion of the day trying to find the hairdressers you talk to Lucius about. Just as you were about to give up and try again tomorrow, something caught your ear.

Hebrew.

You turned over your shoulder and saw a man speaking in Latin to another man and a pregnant woman. The father had spoken in broken Latin before turning to his wife, speaking quickly in Hebrew as if to ask her what to say.

One of the men began to yell, and you rushed over, speaking to the patriarch of the family.

“What’s going on?” You asked quickly.

His eyes grew as if you were the first person in Rome to understand him (you probably were). “I paid for a bag of peaches fairly; two bronze, yet they’re saying it wasn’t enough.”

You turned to the men behind you. “He says he gave you two bronze for the peaches.”

“It was three.” The Roman man gritted his teeth.

Tilting your head, you tried. “Show me your stand so we may see.”

It was perhaps stupid of you to challenge him; yet, he controlled his tempter and led you to his fruit stand. The sign by the peaches indeed said ‘2’, but there was also a good amount of peaches blocking the bottom half of the sign.

When you moved a few, it read ‘3’.

You smiled, looking at the man who spoke Hebrew. “It is three, but it’s not your fault this brute didn’t notice either.”

He nodded, returning your grin before handing the men another copper. With an few mumbled exchanges, the man and his wife were on their way.

“You have Judeans in your family?” The man crudely asked.

Still, you decided to reciprocate his crassness with kindness. “I actually speak five languages.”

He rose his brows. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

He hummed, holding his hand out. “Isidorus.”

“Julia.” Was your immediate response as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles. It wasn’t even your own choice to say that name; it was what you lived by. Retracting your hand, you shake your head and said your own name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

“-All of Rome knows who you are.” He interrupted. “Do not be afraid of your own people. Most of them were there simply a week ago when you tried to slay Macrinus but was there to comfort lady Lucilla in her final moments.”

You only nodded, not wanting to be praised. “I thank you for your kindness.”

“With certain.” He nodded. “You are with child; only a monster would harm a woman carrying.”

The events of the past weeks had made you forgotten about the false babe. Luckily, the fear upon your face could be used to your advantage.

“Are you not well?” Isidorus questioned.

You dropped your gaze, stammering your tone. “The…I lost the child.”

He looked down as well. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head. “it’s…it feels odd. His father was terrible but…”

“Why are you perusing Rome unchaperoned?” He changed the subject.

 “My betrothed is being put to work,” you immediately answered. “and I am scouring the streets to find my own.”

“What has your luck been?”

“Nothing.”

Isidorus hummed. “I could change that.”

Even at the thought of what he was alluding to, you smiled. “Good sir, I am not in the position to sell my body-.”

“-None of that.” he waved his hand. “My brother works down at the entrance of the city gates. They’re always in need of translators.”

You nodded, considering. “When may I meet with him?”

“Tomorrow?” He asked. “Midday at the gates with many people watching so you do not feel threatened?”

The two of you laughed, and you agreed. “I shall be there. Thank you.”

“Anything to help a woman of the people.”

You walked all the way back to the farm with a skip in your step. Even at dinner, you were more talkative with the rest of the family. Lucius certainly took notice as the two of you were settling down for the night.

“You seemed better today.” He complimented, laying onto his bed of hay.

“So, I’ve been absolutely horrible the rest?” You teased, peeking around the wall of the hayloft.

 “No, just what I think you were like before everything; more yourself.” He explained. “Did the hairdressers go well?”

Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms. “I’m actually working as a translator down by the city entrance.”

He gave you a look. “How’d this come about?”

“Well,” you began. “I overheard two men arguing, one was speaking Hebrew, and I asked him what was wrong. There was a misunderstanding over peaches of all things, I helped them talk it out, and it was solved with no bloodshed. The vendor said his brother works at the gates and is always in need of translators and offered to meet with him tomorrow. It will be midday and so many people around; do not worry.”

Lucius nodded. “I’ll accompany you.”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I shall be fine.”

“I have no doubt you would.” You knew that was a lie. “One of the scythes broke today, I’ll need to buy another one in the city.”

You didn’t know if that was a lie or not, but it wouldn’t surprise you if Lucius would sneak out in the night and break equipment simply to go with you.

Sighing, you went behind the wall to your side of the hayloft. “Fine.”

To no one but Lucius’ surprise, Isidorus had not lied about his brother, nor the job offer. Of course, the brother had been off put at a woman being the translator (because everyone knows that they are the lesser sex). Still, after some convincing (you talked to a Greek family, a man from Anatolia, and two brothers from Persia), he said you could be put to work.

Lucius stood there the whole hour you had proved yourself.

“You couldn’t have gotten the scythe while I worked?” You questioned him while walking home.

He kept his gaze on the road before him, carrying the farm equipment. “It was engaging to watch.”

You hummed. “I could see how engaged you were while you stood like this.” You crossed your arms and scowled.

“I did not look like that.” He scoffed.

“You did so!” You refuted, lowering your voice. “My name is Lucius Verus Aurelius, the Last Gladiator, son of Lucilla and Maximus, grandson of Marcus Aurelius.”

He looked down, mouth upturning a little. “I do not sound like that.”

“Is that a smile?!” you gasped. “Gods above, I never thought you could unless you were attempting humor!

“Away with you, woman.”

You only laughed as the sun was starting to set.

There was something called a “Fullmoon” period in a marriage. Most now would say it’s “Honeymoon”, but the period in time where a man and woman were in a complete state of euphoria together was called “Fullmoon” because it only lasted for a month.

You and Lucius (even with your strange circumstance) were not immune to this.

A month later, when you had fully settled into a mundane life of working in different areas for hours upon hours, the only times you saw Lucius was when you ate dinner with the farmer’s family, and before going to bed.

It didn’t’ effect you that much for the first three months, as you both were still on good terms and were fine simply cohabitating without affection. This marriage was purely for protection and to honor Lucilla’s wishes.

Then…Lucius came to you one day, saying that together, you both had enough money to build a farm. He already had a patch of land picked out from the help of the famer who employed him. It was five miles away from the farm you stayed at. Five miles more of a journey to the city.

You would move in once the walls were built, which he said would only take a week or two.

It was too fast for you.

Still, you had to go along with it, because you were to be his wife; nothing more. Even so, nothing out of the ordinary besides your hidden, simmering annoyance happened between you two.

The first day construction was to be done was when light was shed upon it.

“Lucius!” You called his name as you approached him and a few other men hauling the wood and stone that would be used. It was mid-twilight when you ran to them.

He furrowed his brow, walking towards you. “Aren’t you meant to be in the city?”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shook your head. “I asked for the day off because of the house. He said I-.”

“-You need to go back and tell him you’ll work.”

Your smile fell from his usual, monotone demeanor. “He doesn’t expect me to come in today-.”

“-Then he’ll be happy to see you.”

“May I just talk for a moment?!” You yelled.

His said nothing.

Sighing, you began. “I will be useful in any capacity. If you need me to help dig for water, measure supports, lift anything-.”

“-Your shoulder cannot carry-.”

You retorted. “-It might be the shoulder you shot, but it’s the shoulder I have to live with, and I will tell you if something is too heavy to carry.”

It hadn’t been the first time you brought up your shoulder after Rome was free. Yet, in the past, it was always out of good fun; something to say to him when you didn’t want to carry as little as an egg from the chicken coop. You told the children the story too why you had to set one of them down after carrying her for so long.

You expected them to cower away from Lucius when he returned for supper, but instead, they all tackled him to the ground to defend your honor.

They didn’t hurt him of course, and you laughed until you couldn’t breathe.

Yet, at that moment, you said it with nothing but disdain; and he heard it in every word. You thought it would have been enough to guilt him into letting you help, you made sure of it.

Lucius titled his head back toward the main road. “Go on, now. The sun will be up soon, it’ll be better to walk without daylight beating down on you.”

The audacity he had. Usually, on the times you’d have disagreements of sorts, you’d try to leave with dignity; perhaps a word of sarcasm or two.

No, you simply turned on your heel and marched away in a huff.

You were harsher that day when translating, and you were still angry by the time the day ended. You ate dinner outside by yourself (until three of the seven children came outside to eat with you), and did not utter a ‘goodnight’ to Lucius before laying down to sleep.

Neither of you spoke to the other for days after that.

It was one morning, not even when the sun was out, as you tried to tiptoe around him, did he ask from his makeshift bed.

“Do you remember where the house is?”

You nearly fell off the ledge of the hayloft. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes!” you whispered, afraid to wake the whole farm. “Why?”

“We made the water pump, and the walls and floors are finished. We’ll be able to sleep there now.”

“I don’t see the appeal in sleeping in a house with no roof.”

“I’ll put half of it on today. Tell your foreman too that you won’t be able to work for the next week.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to tend to a farm.” He wrapped his blankets tighter around him and turned his back to you.

And you continued on your way; making the long trek to the city, which would only be longer when you moved to the house.

When your work was over, you walked and walked. You took a short break at the farmer’s house, making your final goodbyes to the children, and gathering what little belongings you owned.

As you tried to leave, Diana stopped you. She was leading one of the horses, a berber, behind her.

“Take her,” she handed you the reins. “you shouldn’t have to walk so far.”

You shook your head. “I simply cannot-.”

“-I insist.” She smiled. “She’s yours now. Think of it as payment for helping me with the little beasts that are my children.”

Smiling politely, it soon faded. She took notice. “What is it?”

“…I’ve only ever ridden once, and I was a child.”

She sighed yet was still kind. “Come on, my husband’s horse is at your farm. I’ll ride back with him.”

Despite your inexperience, it was actually nice riding a horse. It was perhaps the closest you could ever come to flying in your lifetime; maybe that’s why you enjoyed it. As you were nearing your soon-to-be home, you saw a familiar silhouette along with some others.

Atop the house, against the setting sun, you watched as Lucius continued to add tiles to the unfinished roof. His shirt was off, and even with night beginning to set in with the cold air, he was still breaking a sweat from the rigorous work. You would be a liar if you say that you didn’t catch yourself staring, and it was Diana who had to take the reins.

“What a fine home!” She broke you out of your trance, and when Lucius looked in your direction, you snapped your gaze away.

Lucius nodded. “All that needs to be done is the roof.” He jumped onto the ground just as you were sliding off the horse. He gave you his hand as you were, and you took it.

“Thank you.”

Atticus and the other workers went to a lone tree where their horses were tied. Atticus then approached both you and Lucius.

“Well,” he smiled. “it was lovely hosting the both of you. Please come back as often as you can; I’m sure the children will miss you.”

You all exchanged your final goodbyes, and it when everyone rode off away from you, did you realize something. This was the first time in a while you were alone with Lucius that wasn’t when going to sleep or waking up.

“Do you have a name for the horse?” Lucius asked.

Turning over your shoulder, you led the steed to the tree, petting her as you began to tie her up. “Not at the moment. She’s yours too, do you have any?”

“You’ll be with her more; you should name her.”

Humming you looked at him when you finished securing the horse. “You asked them to give her to me, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “They asked how they could repay you for taking care of their children, I mentioned how it would be a longer journey to the city once we moved here. That’s all I did.”

…He was better at asking for forgiveness than for permission; that was another thing you learned about him. Still, you nodded your appreciation, inspecting the area around you. It was quite beautiful even with its plainness. The fields stretched on for miles, and there were no tall buildings to cover the night sky. Even the unfinished house brought a sense of happiness to you.

Something that was, at least partially, your own.

“Where will the barn and chicken coop go?” You questioned.

A hint of a smile played on his mouth, but in Lucius fashion, did his best to hide it. “You were complaining about not having a roof, and now you wonder about things for the animals?”

“Perhaps I’m more interested in farming that you are.”

“I’ll teach you.” he led you into the house. “Come on.”

 The front living space was large, and in the corner of it had an oven, so that was where the kitchen would be. Lucius showed you the two rooms as well; each having a single pillow and a blanket.

“We’ll begin planting tomorrow.” he announced. “I don’t think I’ll have to wake you up.”

“You won’t.” You nodded. “Goodnight, Lucius.”

“Goodnight.” He said your name.

You didn’t think you’d ever get over the sound of your own name from his lips.

You named the horse after your mother. Well…not the exact same name, but a similar one. It was quite a scene too when confessing to Lucius you could exactly remember how to ride a horse by yourself.

He didn’t laugh at you, that was what greatly surprised you. He spent an hour teaching you, and you were able to ride her on your own.

Farming was more difficult than you thought it would be, but not so horrible either. Yes, where Lucius was patient with you for the first few days, he made a few snide comments as time passed. Nothing outright mean, but still enough to get under your skin.

Still, you managed to pick it up within the few weeks after that.

He had even let you help him finish the roof of the house; something you didn’t expect him to do. After living in the house for a month, both of you managed to buy actual beds for your rooms, among other luxuries like a few tables and chairs for the main living area, and utensils both for cooking and for eating.

The bathroom was completely bare. Having spent all the money on everything else, it would take time for the both of you to buy a bathtub. Bathing wasn’t a problem back on Atticus and Diana’s farm, but now being away from them, you would be forced to rely on the public baths in the city…

Even with some bathhouses having baths only for women, that did not stop men from forcing their way into them.

You didn’t mind being dirty for weeks on end.

The two of you fell into another pattern of life; you going into the city and spending hours translating foreign dialogue, and Lucius working on the farm for most days, sometimes accompanying you.

There was…something else strange as well.

It was always a coin toss on what weeks Lucius would speak to you or not.

Yes, he was always a man of few words, but this was different. There were some days when you asked him about his day, he would tell you what boring tasks he did. Than, on others, it was just one word: “Good.”

Never “Bad”, never “Just okay”; only “Good”. Even when you knew it wasn’t, that’s all he would say.

And you could endure it.

It had already been a little over half a year since the two of you started living together. In the eyes of Rome (as mere Plebians), you would be married once a year passed.

This was perhaps the best marriage you could as for as a Roman woman. Still…every day that Lucius would not speak to you only brought more dread upon your shoulders.

When he stopped even looking at you, that was when you went to Diana one day.

“It’s so lovely to see you.” She smiled, setting down two cups of wine and sitting. “It’s felt like ages!”

With her youngest baby on your lap, you chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “You honestly didn’t need to get the wine out.”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand. “It’s a celebration just to be in your presence. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

“How’s the farm? Lucius?”

“Well,” you took another sip, setting your cup down. “the farm has been alright. I know at least how to properly water crops and know when they’re ready to harvest or not. I help Lucius sometimes, but…he likes things his own way. He was a farmer too, I understand.”

She hummed. “And as a betrothed? I hope having your own home would help; to me, you two treated each other more like acquaintances than anything else.”

All you could do was avoid eye contact and bounce the giggling baby on your knee.

“Ah.” She sighed. “So not much has changed?”

“We both talk more than we had at your far, but somehow, less at the same time.” You explained.

Diana reached over and held your hand, asking softly. “When was the last time you were intimate?”

As if she were a man, you tore your hand from hers. “What?”

“I do not wish anything to be forced upon you,” she stated first. “especially with what has happened to you. But…it is still important, especially to your future marriage.”

“We…we haven’t done anything in…months.” You were not going to tell her you hadn’t even seen him naked. You were not going to tell her you hadn’t done you “duty” as a woman.

She nodded. “There must be something plaguing his mind terribly.”

“I know that!” You cried. “He just won’t tell me.”

“Men do not like talking,” Diana sighed. “I have been married to Atticus for fifteen years, and even after ten children, there are parts of his past I still do not know of. What Lucius frets over is important though. You must dig your heels into the ground and let him know you are not doing anything until he tells you what he has issue with.”

The baby on your lap cooed as you held her, reaching for parts of your clothing. Diana took her from you once the baby started fussing, and you offered her a grateful smile.

“I’ll try my best with him.”

She squeezed your shoulder. “He will come to his senses. If not, then he truly hit his head too hard in the Colosseum.”

Except, you couldn’t confront him when you got home. Even though the sun was only beginning to set, when you arrived, the house was silent. You peeked into his bedroom and saw that he was already fast asleep.

With a sigh, you finished your nightly activities, and when the sun went down, you were in your own bed.

The nightmare was unlike any you had before.

Hands from all around you reached out to you. Some grabbed clumps of your hair, stuck their fingers into your mouth, caressed the most intimate parts of your body, or even tear your skin off.

You blinked and then you were in the palace, surrounded by cloaked figures. Someone forced you onto your back, and you looked up and saw Geta, raising a knife high above his head before diving it into your stomach. He carved it out before digging his hands into the opening he made and pulled out your womb.

After sitting up in bed, you had thought you awoken. When you opened your bedroom door, you were welcomed to a field of reeds, seeing nothing for miles. All but a silhouette in the distance. You could not make out it to be a man or a woman; all you knew was that you needed to run to them.

Yet, even as you dashed through the fields, calling out a name you do not even remember, your feet sank into the ground with each step.

The earth swallowed you whole before you could even reach them.

You didn’t awake with a scream; you didn’t even awake with a cry. You did awake in a sweat. Sitting up, you slowly pulled the blanket away from your body. Your stomach was unwounded, and nothing had happened.

Without knowing why, you rose from your bed and slipped on your sandals. Not even putting on a robe, you walked out of the house into the cold, night air. Numbly, you treaded through the tall grass away from the house and stopped.

The stars above you watched as you fell to your knees, and the past finally had the last laugh.

You wept for your mother (whose touch you never felt).

You wept for your father (who you had to take care of the same way he took care of you).

You wept for Marcus (the first man outside of your father to ever see you as a person).

You wept for Lucilla (the woman who saved you in more ways than one).

You wept for the innocence you lost to the twin emperors (and how you mercilessly killed them).

You wept and wept, until you felt bile claw its way up your throat and out of your mouth.

The tears did not stop even after you were finished.

Two hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you tried to tear yourself away with a sharp cry. You were turned around, and even though your tears blinded you, you could see that it was Lucius.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes grown.

You couldn’t speak clearly, only shaking your head and saying ‘No’ over and over. Lucius led you to the water pump and sat you down by it. Cranking the handle until the water flowed freely, he cupped his hand to catch some of it before gently washing your face.

The cool water grounded you, and your sobs began to slow. Once you were only left with shallow breathing and a stuffed nose, Lucius finally sat beside you.

“What happened?” He asked again, although, returning to his normal, straight-toned self.

“Bad dream.” Was all you said.

He said nothing at first. Then, looking down at the grass beneath him, he said. “Would talking about it help you?”

It was meant to be a helpful question, but it only angered you. “You ask that now? After I run out into the night screaming?”

Lucius squinted his eyes. “Why does that bother you?”

“I know you have nightmares too.” You scoffed. “I have asked you dozens of times if you wish to talk to me about them, and you have always said no. You’ve never once asked me about mine, so how dare you expect me to tell you about it now when you cannot even share yours with me!”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head.

You stood up, walking back to the house. “You’re right, it isn’t fair.”

He jumped to his feet. “You can’t walk away without telling me why this is troubling you.”

“You first.”

“What?”

You turned to face him. “We are to be married in less than a year, at least ‘In the eyes of Rome’ as you say, yet you do not even look at me anymore!”

His shoulders fell, and he shook his head. “I am looking at you-.”

“-I ask you how you are these days, and you lie to me every time.” You interrupted. “The few instances you allow me to work beside you, you criticize every little thing I do. I understand that I am the farthest thing you wanted for as a wife-.”

 It was that word that struck a chord. Despite saying it every so often those past few months…it was only then it occurred to you that where Lucius was your first husband…you were not his first wife.

He tore his gaze away from yours, as if he knew you had figured it out. You sighed. “Gods above…I’m sorry for what has happened to her, and I will never know the loss of a love like that…but I cannot be viewed as her replacement-.”

“-Who told you that you were?” He sharpened his tone.

You swallowed, knowing that this would all end in tears no matter what you said. “You do not tell me anything. I will never ask you to care for me the way you cared for her, but she is gone-.”

“-I couldn’t do anything after she died but weep and watch her body float into the ocean.” He hissed. “I vowed to kill the man that slaughtered her, and I didn’t. It had been perhaps just a month since her death, did I promise myself to another woman. I have dishonored her memory three times.”

“I do not know how long you need me to apologize for something I could not control, but I will if that means you will stop hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You hate that I will be your wife!” Your voice was growing hoarse. “I don’t understand it at all. I will be whatever it is you wish me to be in few months’ time, because you will own me. Even if you wish me to be dead, it shall be done because what I want will not matter-.”

“-Must you make everything about yourself?!” He finally yelled. “Would it soothe you if I said I despised every part of you? That if Jupiter himself came down and offered me my old life in exchange for you, I would give you up to him?! Would it give you any peace of mind if I told you I would have rather died in the arena than live a thousand years with you?”

You had expected him to at least pause after he made his confession. To at least have the courage to look you in the eye and watch as the words sunk into your being. Yet, as soon as he finished, he stomped back to the house; and you were alone outside again.

The tears upon your face glimmered from the light in the sky above you, for all you could do was stare at the little farmhouse Lucius had built for you.

How strange that something you once saw as a sign of devotion, was now revealed to be one of complicity.

He had admitted his disdain for your future marriage. You knew that it would be loveless (you would never escape that), but you wished at least for respect. Seeing as how you were not even going to have that, you dragged your feet over to the tree where your horse was tied up.  Mounting her with nothing but the clothes on your back, you raced down the pathway.

For the first day, you had stayed at Diana and Atticus�� farm. You said nothing about Lucius, and tried to spend the most time with the children to avoid any questions.

On the second day, you finally went back to the city. Even though the man in charge of you yelled louder than Lucius had at you, it did not phase you. You merely nodded and returned to work. With what money they paid you for the day, you spent it on a room at the safest inn you could find. You had another nightmare that night. Not as horrible as the one two days prior, but awful enough for you to lay awake until the sun rose.

The third day seemed to be ordinary, until you finished your job, and you were promenading along the market. As you eyed the fruit at Isidorus’ stand, a man came to stand beside you.

“Good sir,” you heard Lucius’ voice. “do you have a wife?”

Isidorus nodded. “I do.”

“What from your stand would you give her if she was angry at you?”

He eyed you before smiling at Lucius. “My ears to listen.”

You turned, promptly walking away. Of course, Lucius followed.

“I didn’t know you confided into strangers about our qualms.”

“He’s not a stranger.” you kept trying to lose him. “And gifts will not suffice for an apology this time.”

He got in front of you, uttering your name. You stopped, sighing. “What else have you come to say to me?”

“That I am a fool.”

Although you weren’t necessarily expecting him to admit it, you only nodded. “You very much are.”

He began. “For my entire life, I was not allowed to be entirely truthful with others. Whether it was how I felt in the moment, or even my own name. I’m not used to the freedom of being candid with one another. And I have been mistreating you; I have provided a home, but I haven’t provided your wellbeing. Ari-.” Lucius paused, breathing through his nose. “Arishat and I lived on a farm, that was all I knew while being a husband. I will love her until the end of my days, but that does not give me the right to neglect you. I will…I will try with all my being to share my thoughts with you.”

You stared at him, feeling as if you would blink, and you would awaken from another dream. Yet once you did and saw that he was still in front of you, you said.

“I didn’t mean to insult your memory of her.”

He shook his head. “I believe she would hit me if she were here and saw how I treated you.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “Truly, for everything. I…it’s not only you, I don’t know if I will ever feel like myself after…everything.”

Lucius already knew. Still, looking around himself, he then said. “Where is your horse?”

“The inn I’ve been staying at has a stable. You walked the whole way here?”

“It’s what I deserved.”

“You smell horrible.” You mustered a shy grin.

He mirrored you, looking away. “I have for a while.”

“I do as well. I was…I was going to brave the baths; would you like to join me?”

Your offer took him by surprise. Usually, a question like that would be an invitation to more salacious activities to take place. Still, what took him aback more was how you were initially so afraid of the public baths, yet there you were.

“I shall.” He agreed.

Thus, the two of you walked beside one another. There were many baths in Rome, yet it would be challenging to find one that had a separate bath for women and one for men. By the time you reached the third bathhouse, you sighed.

“This will do.”

Lucius shook his head. “I’ll ask the workers at this one if they know-.”

“-No.” You stopped him. “It’s fine. I wish to speak more with you.”

He was still hesitant, but gave in. The two of you entered and drifted off to the separate changing rooms. It was strange that the bathhouse had rooms for the different sex to disrobe, but not baths itself.

After locking your clothes away, you ventured out into the main pool. You were welcomed to an array of naked bodies. You weren’t entirely innocent of course, even before everything. You were never to see any of these people again; it was Lucius you would live with.

Quickly, you disappeared half of your body under the surface of the water and clung to the wall of the large bath. Other people around you laughed and socialized, only putting you more in the eyes of men who only came to the baths for one thing.

Yet, before you could take a moment to worry, your eyes fell to Lucius who entered. You soon averted them and felt the water shift beside you as he entered. You turned to look at him, leveling yourself with the side of the pool, essentially shoulder to shoulder with him. The hear radiating off of his body onto yours reminded you too much of that night months ago; the one where you whispered your name into his ear.

“What were you like as a boy?” You questioned in an attempt to hide how flustered you were.

He hummed. “Why do you ask?”

“If you wish to be more honest with me, than I think it should be best to stary with something minor.”

“I understand. I was spoiled growing up in the palace. Still, I wished nothing more than for adventure. All my life, the mere thought of war and battles were taught as a way to bring glory to the empire; pride for one’s family. I had gotten my foolish wish when Maximus died, and my mother sent me away from Rome.” He paused momentarily, before continuing. “I ran all across the land until I was thirteen, where I finally settled in Numidia. I had changed my named too many times to count and settled upon Hanno.”

Your attention did not waver for a moment. When he was finished you asked. “How old were you when you left?”

“Eight…” There was a sad silence between the two of you. A silence held in almost reverence for all the troubles he had been through. “What about you?”

Even with your uneasiness to answer your starkly different childhood, you did so; also have been promising to be honest with him. You spoke of your father, your past friends, the house you grew up in. He never once looked upon you with envy or hatred.

“Your father sounded like a good man.” He said.

“He was.” You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. "I think he would have liked you.”

“I can only hope.”

The conversation halted after that, unknown if you should wait for him to ask a question, or for you to ask another. Both of your eyes drifted around the bath house as people filtered in and out. When your gaze fell back onto Lucius’ you watched his eyes flicker to something behind you. Before you could utter a word, he placed his hand upon your bare back, bringing his lips to the space between your ear and your jaw.

It all happened so fast you had no time to react, and your body shivered upon the feel of him being so close to you.

“There’s a man eyeing you from behind.” He whispered into your skin. “Don’t look at him, just keep looking at me. I’m sorry.”

You pulled away slightly, doing as he told. He traced circles on your back with his thumb, staring intently at you. Even as you shrunk under his eyes, they did not frighten you.

Deciding to play along, you trailed your hand up his bare arm until resting on his shoulder. You felt his skin erupt into goosebumps and he took a sharp intake of breath.

“Okay?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just…it’s been a while.”

Anyone with any sense knew that meant more than one thing. It had been a while since he felt anyone’s touch; nonetheless, a naked woman’s.

From behind him, you saw a small group of girls all looking at you. They all looked a little younger than you, and acted like so, giggling loudly and talking without a care in the world. It was only then that you noticed they were looking at Lucius.

“Is there someone eyeing me now?” He attempted to tease you when he noticed your gaze.

You nodded, no hint of humor behind your voice. “A good few of them.”

“Is that so?”

You removed your hand. “I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“Wouldn’t mind what?” He pinched his eyebrows together.

“…Getting your release from a woman that isn’t me.” You were puzzled by his seeming ignorance. “You’re a man, I understand-.”

He said your name with somewhat of gasp. You didn’t listen one bit.

“No, I mean it. I will not be more selfish than I already have been, expecting you to remain celibate because I don’t think I will-.”

Lucius said your name again and you stopped. Even when you did, he said it a third time as if to know he had your attention. He continued to run his fingers up and down your back.

“I will not dishonor you-.”

“-I have been dishonored several times before, it does not matter-.”

“-Listen to me.” He said softly yet firmly. “Even if I desired someone carnally, it is not selfish of you to want my loyalty. I’m not a boy who wishes to bed anything that breathes. I don’t think I can do so with someone I do not have any deep feelings for. You are my wife, and I will not treat you less.”

He didn’t call you his ‘betrothed’. As if, the moment you accepted his apology, you were already his other half. To hear him speak with so much certainty after neither of you knowing what any day would bring…it brought an astonishing comfort you never knew you needed.

“Thank you.” You felt like your heart could beat again.

“You don’t-.”

“-No but I do. I don’t…I don’t think I could give you anything of myself if you wanted it. It’s still…I remember a lot of what Geta did to me, and I forgot it at the same time. It doesn’t happen a lot in my nightmares, but it still does. That one night you found me he…he cut out my womb and held it in his hands. I thought I woke up, but I didn’t, and I think I was in Elysian Fields, but I only saw a shadow. I don’t know what any of that means.”

Lucius let you finish all of the anxiety you had thrown onto him. Still, releasing a shallow breath, he said.

“You die in most of my dreams.” He clarified. “The bad ones, I mean. A lot of people do, but you’ve been in them the most. There are times I see both you and Arishat, or my mother, or all three of you and…those are the worst. The night I found you outside, I couldn’t…I had a horrible dream that I couldn’t even see your face, but I knew it was you when I found you hanging in the Colosseum.”

If the both of you weren’t naked and, in the bathhouse, you would have embraced him. Yet, with the most understanding look in your eyes, you brought your hand to the base of his neck, his loose curls between your fingers. You swore you felt him relax into your touch for just a moment.

“I’ve known everyone to have their own beliefs of dreams.” You whispered. “They’re meant to predict the future, they reflect the past, they are punishments, they are blessings, and they mean nothing. I wonder if it’s possible they are all of them.”

He nodded. “I don’t know what I believe in anymore.”

“I do.” Lucius unknowingly leaned into you just ever so slightly. You grinned from ear to ear, pulling your hand away from him. “I believe you need to cut your hair.”

He chortled. “I’m not spending anything on cutting it. It’s fine.”

“I’ll cut it then.”

“I would rather be stabbed.”

“Oh, quit being dramatic.” you playfully swatted him. “There’s a reason I would’ve been a better hairdresser than tailor.”

The two of you teased one another for a minute longer after that. Than, even though the conversation died, it was not in vain. There was a quiet gentleness and protectiveness as you both shared a short distance between each other while bathing. Lucius kept his eye on you more than you did him, knowing that it was always possible a man could try to take advantage of you.

When all was said and done, you got your horse from the stable at the inn, and the two of you rode back to the farm with a newfound understanding of each other.

More than a year and a half have passed since the fall of the Roman Empire and its subsequent birth of the Republic. Your strange marriage with Lucius grew into a friendship of respect and understanding. You both talked more than you had when you were first betrothed, even if your busy schedules remained the same.

The farm had improved after its first harvest, even raising enough money to build a chicken coop and house a few chickens. The house itself was more furnished, and the two of you managed to purchase a bathtub, no longer needing to use the public ones in the city.

Both of you had changed as well. Even with what minimal farm work you did, it built both your strength and stamina. Lucius had begun to grow out his facial hair; not much for it to be an actual beard, but more so just under his nose. You’d joke about it looking like a caterpillar, to which he would lightly shove you away.

After the intimate discussion the two of you shared, it was only then you both realized you still didn’t know much about each other. Most importantly, the little things that made each of you a person.

So, you’d take time to get to know one another.

You were helping Lucius pull weeds around the crops when you found out he had ripped a monkey’s throat out with his teeth during his very first gladiator fight.

You were reading a collection of poetry one night when Lucius told you that you mouth the words of whatever you’re reading if you find it most interesting.

During supper one night, Lucius ate the entirety of the plate only to then eat whatever else you hadn’t. That was when your theory was proven right; he does forget to eat sometimes.

Both of you had tried to keep the housework to an equal amount; if he cooked one night, you’d clean the kitchen and vice versa. Yet, some remained stagnant; you always cut his hair, yet he always changed the horses’ shoes.

Cutting his hair was perhaps your favorite way to speak with him.

“Remember to clean your sandals before coming in next time.” He reminded you as he sat on a tree trunk outside. “You tracked in mud.”

Standing behind him while trimming small hairs, you shook your head. “My apologies, master of the house; it was downpouring and I was freezing.”

“Serves you right, I’d say.”

You placed the tip of the shears against his neck. “What else do you have to say?”

He snickered. “That you’re an astonishing woman who I am blessed to have.”

“Wrong answer, all lies.” You pretended to stab him, only to bring the shears back to his hair.

“I’m not lying!” Lucius laughed.

You only gave him a ‘tsk’ before continuing. “Are you sleeping any better?”

He said nothing at first. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and saw him pull on his tunic; another telltale sign of his nervousness.

“I keep seeing my mother’s face.” He admitted. “Only her face, nothing else.”

“It was the third night last night, right?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “Would you want to hear a dream I had a few days ago to make you feel better?”

“Better because it was happy, or because you think I’ll feel happy I wasn’t you?”

“The latter.”

“Tell me.”

You turned his head to the side gently, continuing your work. “I stood in front of the entire senate of Rome, and they were all laughing at me. I don’t even know what I said, they only laughed and laughed.”

“Is that not what happened to you in the waking day?”

“No, they listened…I think.” You shook our head. “It more so angers me that, in the waking life, I presented logic to them, and they still chose Macrinus who showed nothing of the sort.”

“Some men like to speak of only desiring logic yet run away with their emotions once it is presented.” Lucius stated. “What had you told them?”

“That all of Rome would continue to riot if they killed Lucilla.” You said grimly. “I still don’t understand; they had their proof of the rage Rome’s children could feel when their general was killed, the only reason the city did not fall was because Macrinus was slain. I’m done.”

You set your shears down and Lucius stood, shaking the fallen hair off his clothes. He turned to you.

“If it matters at all, I think the only reason this house hasn’t fallen is because of you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shoved him playfully. “Away with you, you’re just as much of the reason as I am.”

“I do all that I can.”

There were moments like this where you would not speak of childhood memories or events of your day. These moments were reserved for the days where it felt like time slowed down just to give you two the grace to speak about them in more detail.

With only a single candle between the two of you one quiet night, you told him how you have to walk a different path in the city sometimes simply to avoid brothels; hating the sounds you would hear from inside, the stench of cheap perfume and sweating bodies burning your nose, the men who would brag to their friends about the women they had.

At breakfast one day, before the sun had even rose, Lucius told you about a time when he was ten, still on the run. He had gone into a man’s house with the promise of food, only to then be hit the head with something so heavy, he was knocked out. He had awoken in a dark room, but managed to find a curtained window, and escaped. He never knew what would have happened to him if he had woken up just a minute later.

There was tenderness you shared with him that you had never shared with anyone in your life.You sht

That was only more apparent on one fateful day.

The first bad omen for the day that morning was when you had run out of sugar for breakfast that morning. The second was when your horse was extra stubborn as you rode her into the city; it was so out of the ordinary, you wondered if you did something to make her hate you.

Still, everything was fine once you went to work. At least it was for the first half of the day.

There were aggressive people from across the land coming into the city you certainly had to deal with, but the worst was when a man twice your size bluffed you with a slap. Even so, the other men you worked with had yelled and sent her away.

That day though…there was a woman with a look in her eyes.

You thought you had seen pure rage when you had been with Geta. Yet, that day was a lesson to you; wrath had many faces.

She mumbled in Greek, but you did not know what she said at first. Then, she attempted to speak Latin. You politely told her you could speak Greek, and so with exhaustion, she told you that she was going to visit her mother.

When asked for her mother’s name, she didn’t say it. After asking again, she became enraged, yelling at you that she should just be able to be let in. When you resisted, she grabbed your bad arm, yanking it to pull you closer to her.

The pain shot through your shoulder like a bolt of lightning, and you cried out. She tugged on your hair as the men beside you tried to pry her away from you. Luckily, she didn’t manage to yank any of it out once the men forced her away from you. Tears fell freely over your face as you cradled yourself, unable to stop the sobs from leaving your lips.

They let you leave early yet paid you as if you were there the whole day.

The ride back to the farm wasn’t any better, but at least your steed took notice of your heartache and was more merciful to you. When you made it home, you slowed her down when you saw Lucius limping towards the house.

You both stopped where you were, staring at one another as if you weren’t supposed to be seeing the other.

“Why are you back so early?” He asked first.

“Why are you dragging your foot?” You asked second.

Lucius took a deep breath, and you saw tears in his eyes. “I fell.”

The only time you had seen him cry was when burying Lucilla; it wouldn’t be from simply falling. You slowly pulled yourself off your horse but did so quick enough before he could rush to help you. You wished nothing more than to pull him into the warmth of the house, to sit him down and tend to his wound to distract you from your own.

Yet, the moment you took his hand, he began to weep.

“Oh Lucius.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to cradle his face. He wrapped both of his arms around you, bringing you onto the ground with him. You yelped a little when he squeezed your bad shoulder too tight, and he pulled away.

“What happened?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You need-.”

“-What happened?!”

Knowing he wouldn’t stop asking, you told him. “Someone at the gate attacked me. Pulled on my bad arm, my hair…it wasn’t as bad as you’d think-.”

“-Where is he?” He lowered his tone and his demeanor.

Your jaw dropped into a surprised huff. “She is long gone by now, and even if she wasn’t then as my husband, you should stay with me instead of wandering the streets of Rome hoping to find someone to be your anger’s victim!”

Though he still wore that rage upon his face, it soon fell once he saw your own tears fall from your eyes like dewdrops on flowers. Lucius laid himself flat on the dirt, and you sat above him.

“I have been married to you longer than I had been to Arishat.” He confessed. “I knew her for longer, but-but not as deeply; no, I-I knew her more than…I don’t…It’s been long since her death, yet there are moments I think of her, and I cannot stop crying.”

You never knew this was in his heart. You knew to never speak of Arishat, only listen whenever he would bring her up (even so, it was once in a blue moon).

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled, trying to pull himself together. “I know she is gone, and I shouldn’t be-.”

“-You shouldn’t what?” You interrupted. “Remember her? You think I wish for you to forget the woman you so loved?”

He shook his head. “No, but it’s selfish of me to-.”

You were the one to make him lose his words this time. With both hesitation certainty, you placed his head into your lap. It was too late for you to stop once you did, and you felt your own body tense. Then, upon taking a look at his body battered from rigorous work, and another at his face, which relaxed with his eyes fully shut, you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Lucius,” you sighed. “never will I think you are a horrible man for mourning her. You missing her shows just how much you adored her, and how she was a treasure to you. In another life, above all, I wish I could have met her. You are not in the wrong for wanting to see her again. I know you do not love me-.”

“-I do love you.” He opened his eyes upon saying it.

Your heart felt as if it was going to beat itself out of your chest and run away when he said those four words. To preserve your sanity, you took it a different way and smiled sadly.

“Not in the way you loved her.” You said softly. “But what else more can I ask for in a husband than one who treats me with a gentleness I did not know was possible? One who has been there to protect me even before we were married?”

Lucius took a deep breath, rubbing his face to clear away his tears. “You’re too good to me.”

“Gods above,” you groaned tiredly. “we can go back and forth on who deserves each other. Let us just go back into the house, have supper, and sleep.”

“I would like that.” He hissed as he went to stand.

Helping him, once he was on his best foot, you said. “You never told me what you did to your leg.”

He looked behind him at the field. “There was a snake and a rock.”

You gave him a look. “And what happened with them?”

“I don’t wish to speak of it.” He said grimly.

In any other instance, you would have laughed. Yet, as his eyes were still heavy from crying, you just nodded. The both of you helped each other into the house, and you sat him down on one of the several cushions in the living area.

“Your arm,” he asked. “how bad is it?”

You shook your head. “Just really sore. I think she might have left a nasty bruise or two somewhere, but I won’t know yet.”

“Put one of the cloths in the pot with water and put it over the fire.” He told. “Take it out after a few minutes, let it rest for another, then put it on your shoulder. It should help.”

“Thank you.” You stood, doing so, saying. “I swore we had bandages somewhere. I’ll make something for you to drink too; I bought some herbs just last week.”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you as you worked. If it were any other man, you would have felt unsafe; yet, it was only Lucius.

Little by little that night, both of you helped heal one another.

Half a year passed since that night, and you and Lucius had only grown closer. Perhaps as close as you could be with a man who was not your husband by choice.

Not much on the farm had changed; you two were living comfortably, and happily, almost making all the turmoil from the first year worth it. The both of you decided to make more visits to Atticus and Diana’s home, realizing just how much you both missed having someone to talk to outside of each other; but that did not mean you had to keep things hidden of course.

If anything, you shared everything with each other.

So much so, that when Lucius asked you why you held onto him longer when he embraced you on your birthday, you told him the truth.

“I don’t want every time we touch to be when it is in turmoil.” You explained, growing meeker. “And I…I’ve missed the feeling of it when it has not been forced upon me.”

Lucius stared at you with a look you had never seen from him. He had been gentle with you many a times, but they way his eyes fell into yours…

He took a step closer to you, and when you showed no sign of discomfort, he took your face into his hands. Your eyes shut at the feeling of him, and he pressed his head against yours. Never in your life had someone’s breath upon your skin feel so immaculate.

From there on out, it always seemed like you had to have a hand on each other one way or another.

It started with holding hands whenever walking through the city together. He used to ‘lead’ you through the crowds in the past, but more so with a hand hovering over your back. No, him holding your hand meant he would have to go where you would go if anything were to happen.

Alongside this, he’d reach over and hold it at Atticus and Diana’s house; whether it was during dinner, or simply just talking. The eldest child had said what the rest of the household had been thinking.

“They’re finally acting like they’re married!”

Because even when there were no other eyes besides yours, he would still hold your hand. You wonder if it ever became a way for Lucius to ground himself; because it certainly did for you.

You hugged him more often as well. Those used to be for ‘substantial’ occasions; those being celebrations or heartbreaks. Now, they were incorporated into greetings and goodbyes. Of course, it only took a few weeks before they were than made into simple desires.

He would be cooking dinner, and you would come beside him to embrace him. You would be gathering eggs from the chickens, and he would wait for you to set the basket down before tossing his arms around you.

At night, it was normal for you both to trade spots as one of you would read a story, and the other would have their head in the other’s lap.

This happened on so many occasions, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise for what Lucius proposed next, but it did.

“If you don’t favor the question I’m about to ask you, then you are allowed to never speak to me again.” He said, his feet hanging off the arm of the lecti couch you both bought that year.

“Well,” you scoffed, sitting on the end of it. “I will have to speak to you again because we live together.”

“Would you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Never in your life had you thought that would have been his question. When you didn’t speak right away, he backtracked. “I don’t expect you to. I understand if-.”

“-The nights are growing colder.” You stated, no visible uneasiness. “I’ve noticed it, and I don’t think any number of blankets could warm me.”

He swallowed thickly, and this was perhaps one of the first times you’d ever seen him like this. “Yes…it’s cold.”

You nodded, and another beat of silence fell between you two. Standing up, you tugged at the seams of your dress. “I-I’ll go change.”

“Yes,” he sat up. “I shall as well.”

Disappearing into your room, you tossed your day clothes off then slipped on a nightdress. After pacing around the floor for a few moments, you gathered the courage to go out into the hall and knock on Lucius’ door.

It was opened as if he was standing right behind it.

He wore just a plain, tattered tunic, and said nothing; yet, you caught his eyes run down you before immediately bringing them back to your face. You were not even in his room yet, and already your body grew warmer.

“May I come in?” You asked.

“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside and you entered.

Somehow, you were no longer man and wife; you were two people who had just discovered a strange, yet burning, feeling that you both held for one another. A feeling that you were both afraid to say aloud…because then it would be real.

The only light in his room was from the moon just peeking through the curtain of his one window. Looking around, you saw that it was still just the bare minimum; a bed, a small table beside it with a lamp, and a dresser. The only others things of note were his sword leaning against the wall, and just a few dirty clothes on the floor.

“I-I tried to clean before you came.” He mentioned.

“Is the rest under the bed?” You asked.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

Before you could change your mind, you pulled the covers off one side of the bed and slid under them. Glancing behind at Lucius, you saw him wear a look where you knew he wanted to say something.

“What is it?” You asked.

“That’s usually the side I sleep on but-.”

You rolled over to the other side. “Are you content now?”

He wheezed, moving to his designated side, slipping under the covers. “Very.”

“Good.” You smiled up at him.

His own mouth lowered as you could see him thinking. He then said. “I don’t expect us to do anything.”

You watched as his eyes dropped from you, as if it was too invasive just to merely look. Thinking from only your heart, you scooted closer, resting your hand on his arm. You ran your fingers up and down his muscles, but then guided his arm to wrap around your waist.

“Okay?”

He hummed, pulling you just a little closer. “Yes.”

“And we’ll just lay together?” You whispered. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

And that’s what you did. The compete truth was that you would caress him only to remind yourself that it was Lucius and not Geta. His arms, his back, his face…he was nothing like him.

After a few more nights, you told him that as you both lay awake, unable to sleep. He had pulled you on top of him that night, saying that you could see his face better in the moonlight. You only giggled, hiding your face in his chest; even that was too much for you.

It was easier to tell each other things in the darkness. You always knew that, but with being in the same bed (you had not gone back to your room for a week), the words flowed out of both your mouths.

“After my father died,” you said one night as you laid on your side facing him. “I would stroke my own hair or even my arms and pretend they were someone else’s. Even when I was with Geta.”

Lucius stared at you, then immediately began to caress your cheek. You shut your eyes, sighing at the feeling.

“I never thought I’d be able to sleep next to another woman again.” He whispered.

“And now?” You looked into his eyes.

He stopped his movements, but did not remove his hand. You watched every part of him. How his chest heaved shallowly, his arms tensing ever so slightly, but his eyes…gods his eyes. They were heavy as they looked at you; a look that made your heart flutter and not shutter.

Swallowing your fear, you sat up and inched closer to him. Your face hovered above his, and your breath heated his skin. His hand continued to trace shapes about your cheek, and shutting your eyes, you placed your lips upon his.

It was the gentlest kiss you ever shared with a man.

You had pulled away, dreading to see how he felt. When your eyes befell his gentle smile, and his other hand came up to cup your face, you kissed him again.

And again, and again, and again.

You climbed upon his lap without pulling your lips away from him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sat up, his own arm encircling your waist and drawing you impossibly closer.

Lucius parted from you, and as you whined at the loss of his lips, they soon settled upon your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your chin. Your heavy pants turned to soft grunts as he kissed down your neck, his mustache scratching your skin in just the right way.

Your hands settled into his hair the lower he traveled, moving your night gown off your shoulder to kiss your collarbone. You felt yourself becoming intoxicated from him, and only then noticed you had been for a while.

Oh, how you wished you could bottle up his laugh, his strength, his stubbornness, and get drunk every night. His kisses only added fuel to the fire that was your desire for him.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, and your body, once enflamed, ran cold.

“No!” You tore yourself from his lap, nearly falling off the bed.

Lucius said your name, leaning forward on instinct but soon stopped once he saw you crawl away. “I’m sorry.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. All you knew was that you needed to go, so you did. Cradling yourself in your arms, you got up from his bed, rushing out of his room and into yours.

You half expected him to knock on the door, then, when you wouldn’t answer, him yell and curse you before breaking it down. Yet nothing of the sort happened. You heard his own door open, and you saw his shadow on the other side, but he did not touch your door. He left after a moment of waiting.

When his own door shut, did you finally cry.

You told yourself that night, you would wake up far earlier than Lucius would so you simply wouldn’t have to see him.

When you awoke, you did the exact opposite. You laid in your bed, trying to return to sleep, only to be forced to lie in the dark. The sun rose into your room, and you heard Lucius’ door open. Still, you did not get up.

It was quite comedic, actually. With your door still shut, he knew you were still home. How he tried his best to keep quiet for you, yet his footsteps had always been heavy, the front door had always creaked, and you could always hear him cursing under his breath every time.

When you knew he had left the house, that was when you stood from your bed, slipping on your sandals. You didn’t bother changing out of your nightdress, leaving your room, and then the house.

Lucius was amongst the chickens when he saw you. He didn’t bother hiding the surprise upon his face at the sight of you. You walked to him until there was little space between you.

“Last night-.”

You took his hand from his side, placing it upon your face. He rubbed your cheek with his thumb as if it was natural. Kissing the palm of his hand, you trailed it down to your clothed breast. He breathed your name with hesitance, but you shushed him. You held his hand there, not taking your eyes off him.

“I will show you, one day.” You told him. “I will show you the mark Geta had made. The one where I myself can scarcely see it, yet I know that it haunts me. But now…” You brought your other hand up to his face, tracing your thumb over his lip. “I just want you to understand.”

He kissed the pad of your thumb, nodding. You embraced him, and he held you with both gentleness and ferocity. The rest of the day carried on as normal, yet you aided him with the chores on the farm.

You went to bed with him that night, but it was the first time he did not entrap you in his arms. You knew he was still afraid of hurting you, but you would be a liar if you said you weren’t thankful for the space.

Still, he would feel your touch every day; whether it was something as small as brushing his hand, or as substantial as kissing his cheek.

As the both of you lay awake one night, you played with the sleeve of his tunic.

“Could I lie on top of you?” You asked.

Lucius looked over at you, nodding. “You never need to ask.”

“I want to.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. “I never want to force you to do anything.”

His eyes fell to your hips before returning them to your face. “I’ll tell you if I wish to not do something. I hope you know you can as well.”

“I do. Would you like to touch me?”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

You moved his hands to your hips, which he held firmly, yet not enough to hurt you. You leaned down so your lips touched his.

“No teeth.” You said.

“No teeth.” He repeated.

Lucius sighed into your mouth as you kissed. Despite how you were on top of him, the kiss was sweet, shy even. When you pulled away, you trailed your lips from his cheek to his ear.

“Do you dream about me?” You rasped.

He said nothing, and you continued to kiss every part of his face besides his lips.

“It’s okay.” You kissed his Adam’s Apple. “I want you too.”

“Yes.” His breath hitched.

“What was I doing in your favorite one?” You kissed his pulse point.

“You,” he breathed sharply through his nose. “you’re touching yourself.”

“Would that please you?” You sat up in somewhat surprise, resting your hands on his chest. “To watch me do so?”

He shook his head. “I want to do what pleases you.”

It felt foreign to hear someone say they want you to feel good. Instead of cowering from it, you faced it head on. You kneeled for a moment, hiking your gown up to your hips before sitting back on your ankles,  exposing yourself to him. Lucius’ jaw clenched at the sight of your naked center, and he drew his hands away from your hips, falling them into fists upon the mattress.

“I wish to watch you as you watch me.”

Without looking away from you, he drew his hand down to his cock, pulling it out from under his tunic. Your eyes grew just a hint. There was no doubt upon him being more well-endowed than others, but it was still different from how you imagined.

Shutting your eyes, you trailed your fingers over your cunt, your thumb playing with your clit. The sounds of Lucius’ smothered grunts, and the skin of his cock on his fingers only added to your pleasure. Digging deeper and moving faster, you felt a coil within your stomach tighten when you opened your eyes and saw as Lucius’ gaze bore into yours.

Light moans escaped your lips as your hips moved with a mind of their own, watching the man beneath you take pleasure from his own hand. It was him chanting your name like a prayer that sent you over the edge. With your eyes shut, the coil within you snapped, and pleasure filled your veins.

Not long after, you felt a warmth coat your nightdress. Opening your eyes, you looked down and saw the white-hot residue of Lucius’ release. Your gaze drew to his cock, still clutched in his hand, yet red with droplets of white running over his knuckles.

You don’t know what possessed you to, but you lowered your mouth down to clean him with your tongue.

“Gods be good!” He huffed, laughing your name.

“What?” You wiped your mouth.

 “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Grinning like the devil, you slid off the bed, walking towards the door. “I hope it’s a pleasant one then.”

He sat up. “Where are you going?”

“To change. You dirtied me as well.” You teased.

“Take one of my tunics from the dresser.”

It almost made you laugh that he didn’t want you to leave for even a second. You opened the top drawer, grabbing the longest tunic you could find before facing him. “Close your eyes.”

He laid on his side, putting a pillow over his head. Many would find it strange how the both of you would see the most intimate parts of yourself while doing one of the most intimate acts together, yet you didn’t want him to see you naked.

But Lucius never thought of it as strange. He knew what you had been through, and never once judged you.

When you were clothed, you slid into bed, wrapping your arms around his body and pressing a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re a good man, Lucius Verus Aurelius.” You whispered. “I will tell you that until the day you die, or when you finally believe me.”

He squeezed your hand, relaxing into your touch. You never slept so peacefully until that night.

You always had to see him whenever he would touch you so intimately. There would be nights where there was only a single candle in the room either while he caressed the swell of our breasts, or the inside of your thigh as you sat on his lap.

His fingers were too much for you at first, but he never ridiculed you. When you whimpered at the feeling, he retracted them, kissing your eyes. You asked him again to try, and he whispered praises into your hair as the pain from a dry spell soon turned into pleasure.

It was usually at night did these moments of exploration occurred. In the day, the most you would ever do was kiss. That is, until the first time you cut his hair since the discovery of feelings.

“I don’t want to get hair on your floor.” Lucius said as he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the foot of your bed. It was hotter than sin that day. He wore nothing but a loincloth, but that barely did anything to help him from the heat. You wore essentially a thin shift that would usually be under your dress; yet again, because of the heat, that was all you wore.

You sat on the bed, legs draped over his shoulders as you cut his hair. “It’s your floor too. You built the house.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I haven’t slept here for a while now. Besides, I will clean up.”

“I had no idea you favored doing domestic work now.” He turned and pressed a kiss to your knee.

You slapped the back of his head. “Don’t move! I’ll give you a bald spot if you do so again.”

“Yes, my mistress of the house.” He joked.

“You’re horrible.”

“You just told me I was a good man not so long ago.”

“And I can just as easily revoke that title.”

He stayed silent the rest of the time, but not from any underlining anger. Simply from his at ease posture, you knew he was smiling.

He smiled more those days.

When you were finished, you tossed your scissors aside, but Lucius’ hands settled upon your thighs, not allowing you to get up. You scoffed.

“What is it?”

He turned to face you, kneeling up to meet you. “I wish to try something, but only if you wish it as well.”

You rose your brow, but smiled, kissing his nose. “It will be difficult if I do not know what it is.”

Without drawing his eyes away from yours, he slid his hands up your thighs, bringing the bottom of your shift with it. It seemed normal at first, but once he lowered his mouth, your chest tightened.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I want to kiss you there.” His breath caressed your cunt and you mewled at the feeling. “I think you’ll enjoy it, but we don’t have to.”

Your heart changed from beating in fear, to then in anticipation. You loved how he kissed your lips, and every inch of your skin that was not covered, what would it feel like to have his lips there?

Kissing the top of his head, you laid on your elbows, nodding.

“Let me hear you say it.” He nosed the inside of your thigh.

“Yes.” You sighed. “Please.”

He lowered his mouth back down, pressing the lightest of kissed onto your center. You groaned through shut lips, only for them to part open as the hairs of his mustache tickled you whilst he began to lap at your wetness.

Tossing your head back, you sat up, running your hands through his hair, unconsciously rolling your hips to meet his mouth. His groan reverberated through your body, only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“Lucius, Lucius,” you babbled his name until it didn’t sound like a word.

His nose bumped against your aching clit the same time his tongue penetrated your cunt. You yelped as that familiar, tightening feeling swept over you. His half-lidded eyes would stare up at you every once in a while, as he would continue to drink from you as if he had been stranded in the desert. Just as you were on the brink of release, you drew him away from you.

“What-what is it?” He huffed. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to his before scooting further up the bed. With one last breath, you pulled your shift over your head, revealing your bare body to him. His gaze ran over your figure unashamedly.

“Come here.” You beckoned.

He crawled onto the bed and over your body, yet still looked at your face. You took his hand and laid it over your breast. His body ran cold at what was on the side of it. A bite mark.

“He branded me all those years ago.” You confessed. “And it has not left since.”

Geta…

You ran your hand up his chest. “I love you, and I trust you with every part of my body. I need you to know that.”

“I love you.” He echoed, pressing the tenderest of kisses to the mark and you gasped lightly. “I have for so long now; I…I need you.”

“Then have me.”

He sat back on his knees, unwrapping his loin cloth and tossing it to the floor. Precum leaked from his sweltering cock as it stood upright like a pillar. You crawled over, kissing every inch of his face and climbing into his lap. He drew his arms around your waist, his finger tracing circles into the small of your back.

“I don’t know how long I will last.” He puffed heavily. “It’s been so long.”

“I just want you inside of me.” You kissed his jaw, taking his cock into your hand and sinking down onto it. It had been a while for you too, and while you were soaked, it was not enough to completely subside the tightness. “Just…wait.”

“I could die happy if all you wanted was for me to remain still as you’re above me.” He said into your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin because that was the only way to remind you that he was still there. The further you sunk down on him, the easier and more pleasureful you felt.

“I’m going to move now.” You said into his shoulder, and you did.

Slowly, at first you relished in the quiet slapping of skin and the breath moans leaving both you and Lucius’ lips. He trailed a syrupy line of kisses down your throat until he bowed his head to place them upon your chest.

“Your name,” Lucius said into your skin. “tell me your name.”

You gave him a look as you rolled your hips into his, yet sighed your name.

“Again.” He breathed, latching his lips around the tip of your breast.

You did.

“Again.” He kissed the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into his touch, saying your name a third time.

He repeated your given name, than following it with ‘Aurelias’. Your movements stilled, yet he did not care.

“You are the most cunning woman I have met, and you are my wife.” He stated, never looking away from you. Tears sprang to your eyes when you saw the same for him, and you gave him a messy kiss before resuming faster this time.

After months of being called a name that did not belong to you, especially whenever in the bedroom, Lucius was doing everything to remind you that you were yourself again as you felt pleasure.

It felt as if, after two years, ‘Julia’ was finally gone.

You chanted his name as if it was your favorite prayer, burying your hands in his hair and kissing his lips.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius…”

Because, just like you, how long had it been since his true name was uttered whilst in the throes of pleasure?

He moaned into your mouth, holding onto you tighter. You squealed when he rose up onto his knees, latching your legs around his waist and only crying out sharply when your throbbing clit ran across his pubic hair.

“Come on, come on,” he urged into your ear. “I know you can give it to me.”

“Lu-Lu-!” You moaned, running your nails over the thick field of muscles that was his back.

He said your name over and over again, until it was one word that was the end of you.

“Please.”

You came with your vision blinded from the state of euphoria you had reached. Lucius still held you above him even as his legs began to quake, bouncing you on his cock. You felt as though you were suspended in air when his groans stammered, and you felt strings of his cum paint the walls of your cunt.

Slowly, he lowered the two of you onto the mattress, laying you on your back like you were the most precious treasure in the world. You kept your legs around his waist, breathing with him with your chests glued together from your sweat.

“Lucius-.” You began, trying to shift under him.

“-Just,” he grunted. “just another moment. Please.”

How could you deny him? Every kiss he gave was loving as he laid upon you. His cock had grown soft, and even you were aware that you could’ve fallen asleep if you weren’t careful.

When he pulled away from you, you let out an involuntary whine.

“I thought you wanted me to get off you?” He kissed your stomach when he stood up.

You shoved him playfully. “Just clean me up and come back.”

“So controlling.”

Still, he did what you asked, bringing a soaked washcloth from the bathroom and cleaning you. You groaned out of both the cold water hitting your hot skin, and the heat from the air itself.

“We should’ve waited until night.” You whined.

“Why?”

“I’m suffocating from the air outside!”

Lucius hummed, tossing the washcloth aside and looming over you. “Then that forces us to wear nothing today, so that we might cool down.”

You nodded. “Perhaps you aren’t as feeble minded as I thought.”

He settled behind you, tossing an arm over your waist and pulling your back to his chest. Even though his cock pressed against you, the two of you were completely exhausted from the heat of the day’s work, and the heat of what took place only moments before.

The only sound was that of the cicadas singing in the summertime. Sometimes, a breeze or two of wind would bounce the curtain off the window, but for the most part, just the even breathing you shared with Lucius was all you could hear.

Lucius’ mustache rubbed your skin when he placed a kiss to your neck. “What’s going on inside of your mind right now?”

You grinned. “A proper wife would say that I was thinking of you.”

“But that’s not what it is.”

“It’s something that has nothing to do with anything of note.”

He squeezed you. “Spit it out, woman.”

Sighing, you felt a sense of dread in your heart; both for your thoughts, and also how your husband would react. So, you tried your best to explain it.

“Do you even wonder how you will be remembered?” You began. “Spoken from mouths? Written in books? Painted on walls? They’ll remember Lucius, the Lost Son, the Last Gladiator…What will they remember of me, if anything? Rome’s Cleopatra? Her Delight? A whore to the twin emperors? I like to fantasize that they will name me the first woman who sat upon the emperor’s throne, even if it was as the last of its consul. Yet, even if they name me…I will be Julia. The name of a slave, the name I only accepted when he would press me into the bed so roughly. I only survived because I would need to tell myself that he was doing all of it to Julia, not to me.”

It felt quieter in that room, even though the sounds outside did not cease. Lucius gently turned your body towards him, and he stroked your face with the back of his hand.

“You’re crying,” he uttered your name, frowning.

You wiped your eyes, wanting to hide from him. Yet, he did not allow it, pulling your hands away from you and wrapping them around his shoulders.

“Would you wish I remain silent, or share with you what is in my head?” He asked.

“Talk to me.” You answered.

“I never cared of what history would see of me.” He stated. “Even as a boy. I know that we are different in most aspects of life, but I believe it serves no one to wonder away how we will be viewed long after we are dead. I do not care if or what a stranger thinks of me in a lifetime later. I care how Atticus and Diana see me. I care what their children think. Above all, I care of what you see me to be.”

You pressed your head against his. “You’re pigheaded and quite foolish sometimes.”

“And it matters you say that.” He pulled you closer. “Because that is what you will tell others when I pass on.”

“You know I don’t think that is all you are.” You remined him.

“I do.” He nodded. “I will know you for your wit, and your protective nature, and your kindness.”

“I never truly thought of myself as kind.” You gave a pained smile.

“That is how I see you.” He kissed your brow. “And what I will say with my last dying breath.”

You wondered how such a man as himself could exist at the same time you did. A man who hated you prior to everything yet laid with you in bed. A man who treated you with a tenderness you never thought possible.

A man who could be the last person on earth with you, and you would only feel at peace.

You did not need to say anything to him. Simply by the innocent smile that spread across your lips, did he know. You fell into the most comfortable of silences together as you laid naked in the summer heat.

The both of you were lost to time as we all shall be one day.

Perhaps you lived on that farm for the rest of your days, or perhaps you moved to a different land.

Perhaps you had ten children, perhaps you had only one, or perhaps you had none and were content with each other’s company.

Perhaps you died before him, perhaps he died before you, or perhaps you both passed onto the Elysian fields together.

All that truly matters, at the end of all things, is the life the two of you led together, and what you and loved ones remembered the most of it.

[porcalinecunt]

Hear me out: Jason todd with a pathetic fem criminal/thief he loves to play with involving gunplay

- heart anon ❤

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 you couldn’t be a decent criminal for shit, so much so, the red hood himself has rather ulterior motives . . .

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X FEM! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — rough sex, semi public, slight gunplay, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, breeding, jason being a bully :<

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ i kinda hate this lol, sorry if my writing falls off towards the end. i haven’t touched this draft in MONTHS [sobs]

“i-i won’t hesitate!”

“yeah..threatening the guy with the ak-47..”

he scoffs, barely clutching onto the military grade weapon as if he knows you’d miss every last one of your shots from the tiny pistol you held. your shakey hands were already such a dead giveaway.

petite, timid and easy to snap in two. that’s enough to have the red hood himself laughing at your pathetic attempts to intimidate him. he almost wondered how Black Mask’s goons allowed you through just to grab a nice stash of hard drugs, most likely to sell for a ridiculous price.

“look little girl, put the pistol down and i’ll make it easier for ya. don’t gotta act all tough on me..” the barrel of the rifle faced the floor, clearly he doesn’t wish to waste a bullet on your airheaded self.

there’s my chance! you thought to yourself, rushing past the vigilante and booking it to the stairwell. a grin stretched your lips, how easy was that? and he’s meant to be the best!

as if red hood heard your thoughts, the larger figure dropped down from the ceiling right in front of you with an ear shattering thud! stopping dead in your tracks, you threw a hasty punch that was easily blocked before red hood yanked you by the wrist and threw you onto the wall next to you. not even a second went by before you felt his build press against your smaller figure. trapped.

“h-hey! let me go you prick!” you whined and pouted, trying to push your way out with no success. he didn’t even feel like another man, more like a wall.

amidst the struggle, you heard a small chuckle before the red hood succumbed to laughter. he was fucking laughing, at you. angry, you weakly elbowed him in the rib which did next to nothing. it only earned you another wheeze and chuckles from the hooded bastard.

“awe, what’s the matter? can’t fight back? is this your first crime girl?”

you looked back with an angry pout, his white eyes that were basically holes in that bulky helmet of his narrowed in amusement. an expression that admittedly, gave you a case of butterflies. the way he taunted you, laughed at you, even looked at you. fuck, you wondered if he was seeing anyone outside of fighting crime.

your facial expression must’ve shifted, as the masked vigilante tilted his head. “got something to say to me, little girl?”

his eyes widened a little after saying that, probably because of the way you began to press against his own body. whether you knew it or not, you’re practically arching, pressing your ass against his crotch. it really didn’t help that you were wearing a tight one piece that showed off every curve and shape of your figure.

it didn’t take long before red hood picked up on your intentional eye fucking, backing up to allow enough space for him to grab your hips and roam around your body. the red hood was a greedy one, grabbing and squeezing every bit of flesh he felt on you until he finally found your breasts. his hand alone covered the whole thing, that’s how huge he was. a sudden and rather harsh squeeze made you jump.

"don't be rough!" you whined as the crime lord gently massaged the sore flesh, only to give it another squeeze and forcing a yelp out of your throat. "you're mean..!"

"awe, am i? thought you were a big girl with that prissy attitude and the gaul to act all tough with me.." jason cooed in a mocking tone. even through the material of your bodysuit, you could feel him growing harder and harder against your ass. your stomach was in knots from the sheer length of this man, yet you never fessed up as his fingers found the zipper hidden in the fabric. . . .

you couldn't make a noise, not with jason's huge palm over your slobbering mouth while his cock pistons in and out of your ruined cunt. two orgasms ripped out of you yet he refuses to stop for even a breath, or to take off that stupid helmet.

"c'mon..i know you got another in ya." he grunted, smacking your left thigh which was covered in hand prints from the earlier rounds. you weren't wrong when you called him mean earlier, the way he discarded your bodysuit to him throwing you against different surfaces like a ragdoll. now, he has you over the stair railing while he brutally fucks you from behind.

your knees buckled from the pressure as you clung onto the dirty railing for dear life, the skin on your ass a bright red from his hips slamming against it. you turned your head slightly to meet those white eyes that bore themselves into your brain, how you wish he just took it off to see who's actually fucking you mid failed heist. stupidly, you reached out behind to try and pry even a little, only for a gun cocking to startle you frozen.

"fuck you think you're doing? thought you were slick huh.."

a breathy chuckle followed, as you heard the subtle clicks of the gun inching closer and closer to your ear until the barrel was pressed right below your jaw. you didn’t know if it was fear or arousal, but nonetheless, the next thing you knew was your stuffed cunt clenching around jason’s girth like a vice.

“ohh..you like this, do you?” he started, caressing the gun against your bruised skin. the cold outer was a sharp yet welcoming contrast to the hot air that suffocated you beneath his weight. you mewled in response, practically strangling his cock the harder you clenched.

the vigilante picked up his pace, groaning in your ear as he pointed the firearm below your jaw as if you were a hostage. a strangled moan echoed throughout the stairs and your knees buckled, prompting jason to wrap an arm around your waist.

“m’gonna..m’gonna cum..please..” you sighed, screwing your eyes shut as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter.

“cum f’me girl…don’t fuck this up too..” jason chuckled from the mean jab as his dick twitched against your cervix. before you could respond to his passive aggressive remark, you’re vision went white as a sudden wave of heat filled your ruined pussy. your vision blurred as jason fucked his cum deep into your cunt, not allowing a drop to slip out.

“atta girl..maybe you aren’t as stupid as i thought..”

jason tapped the gun against your thigh as he continues to move his hips against yours, not caring about the fact you could barley hold on at this point.

another round wouldn’t hurt, especially with the antics you’ve pulled today.

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[daenysx]

lovely Hii

Can i get poly!marauders x fem reader where maybe she has been exhausted and busy lately and maybe they’re giving her some space cause they dont know if she wants affection now but she sees them all lovey dovey with eachother all the time and she feels sad cause she wants to join but feels too shy to ask so she tries to discreetly slip back and one of them notices?

Im sorry if that is a bunch of gibberish but i have been awake for over a day now and my brain is fried (i hate uni)

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy <333

(comments are always appreciated and i literally need to see what you think to keep writing, angels. of course i can't force you to send me anything but it would be amazing if you take two seconds to tell me what you think. it's not always easy to keep doing something without getting any feedback about it ♡)

poly!marauders x fem!reader

the relationship between james and remus has always been somewhat chaotic.

they have huge chemistry, maybe something like opposites attract situation. remus is calm when james is bubbling with excitement, remus loves with silent kisses when james loses his breath as he makes love, remus likes rationality when james swims deep in his emotions.

you watch them flirt as they sit on the couch. you're at the table across them in the living room, staring at your laptop screen with exhausted eyes. it probably would be easier to complete what you've been writing if you could have more energy, but sadly you sit all tense and cold at your place. your arms get the chills, you avoid looking at your lovers.

if you leave the table to join them, james and remus would welcome you with open arms. the mere thought of james's lips against your forehead and remus's fingers rubbing your neck makes you want to cry loudly. it's just torturing yourself, but you don't think you're strong enough to ask for love. you need to get this done. you need to think about the classes you gotta pass.

james kisses a line on his boyfriend's cheek, so warm, remus practically loses his mind. "where's sirius?" james asks, remembering sirius leave for the kitchen minutes ago. "is he burning up our kitchen, do you think?"

"we would've notice."

"no, we wouldn't." james whispers. "you're too damn distracting."

remus melts. autumn always brings starvation for touch and loving, two things james is the best at giving. he looks at your way briefly, your droopy eyes worry him.

"she seems so tired." remus says, his lips kiss james's knuckles mindlessly. "should we say something to make her give a break?"

"she said the essay has a deadline, moons." james answers. "i mean, she clearly needs a break, but i'm not sure if we should interrupt her."

it's hard to decide because you get nervous with breaks sometimes. you complain about not controlling the time good enough when you're spending your free minutes with them and being unable to finish stuff at time. you say most of this teasingly, but the boys know there's always some truth in it.

sirius walks into the room with a big mug in his hands. he carries it carefully to your table. james and remus watch the scene, their hands together and legs tangled.

"here it is." sirius puts the mug on the table. "a perfect cup of hot chocolate for my gorgeous girl."

you look at him with the widest eyes. you can't cry. fuck, he's so sweet. he smiles, he looks so handsome with his old t-shirt and messed up hair. you close your laptop, curve your lips to stop yourself from crying.

"this is so nice, siri." you say to him, unshed tears clog your throat. "thank you."

"um- can i get a kiss? i spend fifteen minutes for this."

you nod with a smile, he leans down for you. you only mean to kiss his cheek, but he smells so good and he's so kind- your hand shakes as it touches his shoulder. it doesn't take sirius long to understand what's going on. he manages to hug you before you start crying.

"oh, baby, no-" he says with a sad voice. he attempts to make a joke. "you can't cry for hot chocolate- i'm sure it doesn't even taste that good."

james and remus sit straight with worry. "dove?" remus leaves the couch. "what's wrong?"

"are you okay?"

you nod, they probably won't believe it. you hold onto sirius, he lifts you up from the chair. it's a proper hug now, your skin tingles with the sensation. it feels so good to be touched.

"it's okay." sirius kisses your head. "you're just overwhelmed. you're okay."

you keep your head on sirius's chest. he's warm and his arms are strong, he supports your body to help you stay on your feet. remus brings his hand on your waist, his thumb gently draws a circle.

"can we go to bed?" you ask. separating yourself from sirius is hard, but it's harder to stay vertical. james extends a hand to you, you hold it greedily. they are all thinking the same thing, you'll calm down but you need to feel safe enough with your surroundings to do that. even though they'd like to keep you stuck in their arms, this might not be the best idea.

the bed is cold. it will pass in a few minutes. remus takes you under the blanket, james adjusts the pillows. sirius has a wrinkle between his eyebrows, he gets behind you on bed and wraps his arm around your shoulder. you sniffle softly, suddenly embarrassed by all the attention.

"sorry." you offer, your voice sounds sincerely sorry. "i don't know what came over me."

"i think we should be sorry." remus says. "jamie and i were talking about whether we should tell you to take a break but- we didn't wanna distract you. we should've distract you."

"it's not your fault that i can't manage my time doing stuff i've been doing for years." you say, weakly. "i'm just sick of being tired. i guess i- missed you."

sirius gives you a generous kiss on the side of your head. "you can jump on us any time you want, you know that, gorgeous."

"i think my head doesn't work like that when i'm exhausted."

"it doesn't have to." james says. his voice is like honey. "you don't have to ask for anything. we should be giving you everything before you even have to ask."

"he's right." remus agrees. "it should be like this for all of us, i think."

you nod. your eyes have a grateful look in them, they are undeniably tired, but still pretty to your boys. the bed is warmer. you force yourself to stop counting down the minutes for deadlines. james puts his head on your chest, hugs you as your back touches the bed, his arms are tight around you like you'll run away.

it's good to be touched. it's amazing to have contact with their hands, safe and secure, you can do anything you want if you always feel like this. remus kisses your fingers. his eyes are gentle. they are all so gentle, kind with you, you feel like you'll never break as long as you have them.

sirius's kisses help you fall asleep at the end. he's always bold with his affections, this time he manages to be softer with his lips and more tender with his hands. long fingers in your hair, chapped lips on your skin. he whispers how much he adores you, the tone of his voice hits your mind so well. you are okay. you think you'll be okay, and that's a nice beginning to get things done.

[m-oddinsdottir]

SMALL SPACE, BIG WINGS

the lord of Bloodshed and the étoile .ˊˎ ⚔️

Cassian x Fem! Reader

Words: 2,974

Warnings: smut, fingering, dirty talking, use of pet names, Cassian is a consent king, tension, reader ‘despising’ Cassian, Cassian being secretly smitten over her, unprotected p in v, size kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, slightly nipple play, no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: After being sent on a small and easy job, you end up locked up with Cassian while trying to hide. You two barely fit inside together and the tension is definitely not making things any easier.

A/N: so this is the first time I write smut, definitely had to made my research in how to translate some things from my first language. friendly reminder that english isn’t my first language so please feel free to correct me if<3

Masterlist

•••

You were going to murder Rhysand. Surely, that was the next thing on your to-do list.

You were no spy, and neither was Cassian. Stealthy was not one of the words by which you would describe the Illyrian warrior, to the contrary he was a brute, certainly not a diplomat or forbearing in said matters.

So when Rhysand sent you both on a small and easy job (as the High Lord had called it), you immediately knew things would fail miserably.

After centuries together, everyone would have thought you adored Cassian as much as you adored everyone else in the Inner Circle. They couldn't be more wrong. You hated being teased, he was always teasing you. You loved your moments of solitude and peace, he would always scream around and ruin them. You were free as the stars, he was always trying to tie you down to the House of Wind with them.

You despised him.

However, you couldn't get rid of his obnoxious presence. Even during those terrible fifty years of Amarantha's reign where you had found your own silent and sacred temple in Velaris, he would always knock on your door at least once a month. He was insatiable.

Now, you both were trapped together under a hatch door. His broad hand over your waist to balance you while you were almost laying completely down over his body. His large wings half-wrapped around your figure, occupying most of the limited space in the tiny area you two had decided to hide in.

The amused smirk on his lips didn't help after you noticed the trapdoor only opened from the outside. If you had the space, you would have punched it out of his face just in the way he had trained you after decades of dwelling on how you couldn't always retort on your magic.

"You and me together, doll." He had said, and in response, you had just huffed before trying to kick the door open... Somehow. There must be a way to get out of there, right? You have attempted to contact Rhysand countless times to be able to keep track of it. Yet, you received no response in return.

And now, after almost twenty minutes ignoring Cassian's smart mouth and trying to find the manner to open the door. Your body was already cramping, and the resignment was taking its toll on you.

The male underneath you noticed the sigh that escaped your lips. He also realized how your body pressed more against his seeking some rest after supporting yourself over your forearms to avoid touching him for that much time. A small grin drew itself over his lips.

"As I said about half an hour again... You can't open it."

A small stubborn frown appeared over your lips. He wasn't saying 'I said so' right now, was he? Gods, you were so going to punch him.

"Have you at least tried to contact Rhysand to get us out of here?" Your question made his grin disappear as he looked into your eyes.

Cassian hadn't tried to do anything during all that time. He had just laid there, noticing the way your chest heavily moved up and down with each of your pants after trying to push the door open with your body, taking in how you closed your eyes in frustration granting him the possibility for his eyes to roam over your body without you realizing it.

Gods, he had tried to memorize each detail in your skin with this new forced proximity which, at least, was welcomed by him. Cassian had retained the way your brows furrowed together and the soft sounds of exasperation coming out of your throat that made him shiver.

"Of course, I've tried. I want to stay in this position as much as you do, doll."

Lie after lie.

He hadn't tried to contact Rhysand, and the gods knew he was praying to stay like that with you for as long as possible.

You looked deep into his eyes, nose scrunched up slightly before scoffing and then trying to shift to reduce the cramping sensation. "Ain't this the best outcome possible?"

Hearing your annoyed grumbling made Cassian grin with amusement again, his hand squeezing your waist before talking. "You know, you could always..."

"If you seriously propose that I lay down, I'll kill you Cassian." You muttered and the male raised his hands as much as he could feigning innocence.

"I didn't say anything," Cassian replied to you. His hand returned to rest on your waist before you shoved it away. "You were the one who suggested that… Is that how badly you want me to invite you to sit on my lap, doll?"

Unconsciously, your breath hitched before a small growl escaped your lips and you flexed your arms to be able to stand as far away from him as possible. "Have some respect, will you?"

"When has there ever been some respect between us?"

A truth, for a change.

Gods may correct if otherwise. But a compliment has never been shared between you and the warrior. Not a genuine one, at least.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Isn't it ours, doll? I don't think I can count how many times you've slammed your door on my face." "I don't think you can count at all." Your retort made the warrior grin from underneath you. And, this time, Cassian didn't have any decency before he looked— No, not looked, ogled at you.

"Trying to make me cry?"

You held back the need to roll your eyes at him before supporting your weight with one arm and forcing him to look into your eyes. The roughness of his stubble scratched the soft pads of your fingers as you held his chin upwards.

"Eyes up here," you warned him. "I didn't realize you had the emotional capacity to cry. Did I at least bruise your ego, Cassian?"

He chuckled before tilting his head down slightly and brushing his sultry lips against your fingers. "Consider it damaged." The strain of his voice sent a shiver down your spine to your core.

Gods, that roughness in his tone. You doubt you have ever heard that hoarseness in him before, even though you have witnessed some of his flirting attempts with other females.

A few seconds too late, you dropped his chin. Your hand moved to rest underneath his arm so that you could support yourself above him. Your mouth felt dry and the familiar sensation of your slick between your folds almost cracked a curse out of you.

Fuck.

Not in this situation, not with Cassian underneath you, not in such a tiny space where he could scent it.

And did he scent it, his nose scrunched up slightly and your eyes followed the movement of his Addam's apple when he swallowed hard. The warmth got worse. And you weren't even sure how or why it started.

Gods.

Gods.

"Gods." Cassian muttered, putting your thoughts right into words. You scoffed before shoving him away from you, placing your hands on his chest, and pushing your back against the small wooden trap door.

"Don't you dare say a fucking word. I'm going to try and contact Rhysand again." At your words, Cassian's chest reverberated against your hands when a deep growl escaped his lips

"Don't." His firm voice made you freeze above him.

"Don't?" You repeated and his growl was enough of a response for you. "The hell y—?

Before you could even register it, his lips were over yours. He was a male starved, lips coaxing yours open as he roughly introduced his tongue inside your mouth. His long and warm tongue licking the roof of your mouth before he intertwined his tongue with yours in a dance that only belonged to the synchrony in which the General usually fought his battles.

A small whimper escaped your lips and it traveled into his mouth when one of his hands lowered to your ass, taking a handful of the flesh covered by the leather. Almost immediately, your body arched into his, molding your body in the small space. Your skin buzzed with arousal when he broke the kiss and began pressing open-mouthed wet kisses against the bare skin of your neck.

You whined his name, almost gasping as his hand slipped underneath your trousers, you had no idea when the male unbuttoned them as your hand moved upwards to get tangled in his dark long locks.

"So fucking beautiful and so fucking wet," Cassian groaned as one of his fingers lowered feeling your covered and aching cunt, his warm and soft fingers pressing against your entrance. He clenched his jaw when he could feel the wetness spread through the thin layer of fabric. "Can you imagine how many times I have pictured you like this? At my damn mercy."

He pressed harder and you moaned against his ear. A pink tone colored your cheeks, however, it was provoked by your shame, not your arousal. You doubted you have ever been more soaked for any male before him... That, somehow, ashamed you.

Cassian traced slow and cruel circles against your entrance almost fingering you through the small lacey fabric Mor usually forced you to buy.

"Cassian—." You even struggled with your own speech. Your voice was suffocated by the delicious sounds that reached Cassian's hearing making the bulge in his trousers painfully hard. You could feel it poke your thigh through his Illyrian leathers and a strained gasp left your lips.

"Fuck, keep making those sounds." Cassian growled against your ear before he lowered your trousers revealing your backside to him as he hovered over your shoulder to take a glimpse.

A moan escaped his lips, this time. With his free hand, he parted your cheeks open squeezing the flesh underneath one of his hands before he kept teasing your entrance. His thumb moved upwards finding that small bundle of nerves right where he knew it would be. You choked your moan by kissing him once again and he gratefully devoured each one of your moans.

With a swift movement, he notched the skimpy and delicate fabric to the side. And then he was sinking two long and thick fingers inside you. Immediately, breaking the kiss, your lips parted open in a silent moan, jaw going slack.

The stretch stung as he buried his fingers deep until your achy cunt swallowed them entirely reaching his knuckles. A small laugh escaped his lips when you began to grind against his fingers, chasing your own pleasure.

His hand on your backside immediately moved up to shield your head when you almost hit it against the trap door. "Easy there, doll." Cassian mumbled softly, the gentle gesture making you clench around his fingers.

Cassian curled his fingers inside you finding the spongy patch of flesh that forced a cry out of your lips: "There you go, my beautiful," He whispered softly as he worked his fingers in and out. "Tell me what you want."

You almost laughed at his words. It was as if he was searching for your consent despite the way you were desperately grinding against his fingers while you moaned inches away from his mouth. The brute was in fact a gentleman, Cassian was indeed a gentle lover.

"I want you, Cassian," You mumbled against his lips connecting them with yours for a few seconds before nibbling on his lower lip. "Just you."

He growled. "Gods, doll... Come for me." His voice sounded almost like a plead as his thumb found your clit again. It only took a couple of lazy circles of his finger before you were making a mess of them, soaking his entire palm as a cry escaped your lips, your body stiffening before you buried your face in his neck breathing in his scent so that you could anchor yourself to something while being sent over the edge.

Cassian shushed you, still working his fingers inside you, trying to ride you out of your pleasure. "Good girl," He muttered, making your sensible walls clench around his fingers again. "Gods, I've jerked off so many times thinking about this before." His blunt admission caused a blush to color your cheeks as you looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. Cassian withdrew his fingers from you making you feel empty. You whimpered before he brought his glistening and sticky fingers to his lips sucking them dry while you observed.

The Illyrian savored the feeling of your juices on his fingers as if they were a damn meal. So much so that his eyes rolled back to his skull.

"So you've jerked off to me, huh?" You asked teasingly and he growled softly.

"Shut up." His lips were right over yours again forcing you to taste the salty but sweet taste of your orgasm on his tongue. You heard him roughly fiddling with the ties and buttons of his trousers and a small giggle escaped your lips before you moved down pressing gentle kisses against his jaw and neck.

Your skin sunk on the tanned skin there, leaving gentle marks that you soon soothed with a flicker of your tongue that only caused goosebumps to blossom around his skin.

Cassian growled against your ear when his large and hard manhood was revealed from its restraints. He gripped himself around the base and you looked down. The view made your breath hitch. Gods, was he big. You even doubted it would fit inside as you watched him pump himself a few times.

"Cassian, I don't think I..." You began but he quickly interrupted you. "I'll make it damn fit."

Cassian slid his length against your messy folds, smearing himself in the wetness of your arousal so that he could stretch you open more easily and less painfully. One hand moved up to cup your breasts while the other remained on your hips. He circled your nipples through the fabric of your shirt between his rough calloused fingers, toying with them.

His pupils had become pools in his eyes almost making the golden shrink into a small halo around the darkness of his lured eyes that stared right into your eyes. "So fucking beautiful. The damn picture of perfection." He repeated.

A gentle smile appeared on your lips and you relaxed against his arms. You were relaxed until you felt it. His thick grith slowly pushing inside you. A moan broke your voice as he slowly stretched you open.

"Doing so good for me, baby." Cassian muttered before moving to press a gentle kiss against your forehead, he pulled out before sinking in a few more inches and your needy cunt clenched around him swallowing his cock.

"More," You begged softly, tilting your head to find his lips. "I need you. All of you." He groaned and suddenly, Cassian sunk himself as deeply as he could inside you. His hips flesh against yours as his hands had lowered you completely into his cock.

"Gods—" You moaned and he held still for you to be able to adjust to his girth. One hand remained on your hips while the other moved to cup your cheek so that he could look into your eyes the entire time.

When you nodded telling him that you were alright, Cassian whimpered and he shifted you both in the tiny space before retreating and then thrusting in even deeper than before, the head of his cock caressing your cervix.

Cassian pumps in and out of you, small groans escaping his lips as he gets lost in the feeling of your sensitive walls tightening around him. He could feel your wetness slicking his cock each time he pulled out before he would thrust again. His golden eyes were locked with yours as he took in the way your face contorted with pleasure. Committing the moment to his memory.

He smirks feeling your body shake with each one of his hard thrusts. His hand gently caresses your cheek despite the roughness and eagerness of his movements. "Gods, you were made for me, doll." "I feel like I was made for you." You gasped in response and soon his fingers moved down to caress the swollen bundle of nerves making you cry out with pleasure.

Cassian leaned in closer to press his forehead against yours. "You are," He mumbles noticing the way you arched your back to meet each one of his strokes. "You are... Made for me— Mine."

His growls made you whimper and you felt your body stiffen above him. "Cass.. I'm close to—." He didn't allow you to finish your sentence, thrusting in even deeper and circling your clit desperately before you were coming undone on his cock.

A loud cry escaped your lips before he kissed you gently while your walls tightened around him, your legs trembling due to the electric current coursing through your body and struggling to support yourself over him. The sensation makes him groan and when you screamed his name, he's already tightening his grip over your hips.

He spills rope after rope of his thick and warm spend, flooding your insides as he closes his eyes. Cassian's forehead was still pressed against yours as he panted heavily against your face. He remained buried deep inside you pulling in and out slightly so that your tight walls would milk him completely before he pulled out.

And then you both opened your eyes. Glossy gazes locking with each other and tired smiles over your lips before it happened.

Your breath hitched as his speed dripped out of you and the golden bridge between both your souls constructed itself brick by brick. It left your already hazy mind feeling even more bewildered. You caught sight of Cassian's excited and tender smile before fully realizing it.

He was your mate.

Oh, damn it.

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[marvelouslizzie]

I'm Not Sure If I Can Do This

Summary: You want to try something new and Bucky isn't sure if he can do it.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, edging, no protection, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: I wrote this little filthy story because of my friend Andreea's prompt. I'm glad it turned out to be something decent.

You can also send me requests if you want. I can't guarantee I'll write it but I'll certainly try.

Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing ❤️

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

You thought explaining why you wanted this or even convincing him to do it would be harder, but it was quite the opposite. Bucky Barnes is a guy who loves to give, especially when it comes to pleasure. It’s like he’s thriving on your pleasure while he’s delaying his own. He never made you wait or made you beg for release. Not once. And you really want to be desperate for some reason. And you have no intention to find out why. You just want to experience it. You want him to tease you relentlessly, deny your orgasm, and finally when he allows it, you want it to be explosive.

It’s easy to imagine him doing all those things to you, but the idea of explaining it is just dreadful. That’s why you were so reluctant. You weren’t sure if he would like the idea or maybe he would misunderstand your intention. None of that happened, though. You just said you wanted to try it and as you started to explain why, you noticed how his eyes were shining mischievously. That’s when you realized it was more than okay for him.

And that’s how you ended up all naked and frustrated on your bed. Bucky is a man of his word, so when he said he was going to enjoy this, he was not lying. He has been teasing you for a while now, and all you feel is frustration and of course, that undeniable anticipation. 

“Bucky…” You whine as he’s moving so damn slowly inside you. The touches, the kisses, his damn tongue… It all feels good but not enough to make you come.

“Yes?” 

The way he looks into your eyes makes you melt. You are so close to forgetting that he has been torturing you. He has been denying your orgasm every time you are getting close, yet the look in his eyes… It shows his true feelings.

“What do you want, baby?”

He sounds like he has no idea what you want. You wish you could hate him for this, but you can’t. You’ve been imagining how this would feel like for so long, and he’s just turning your fantasy into reality while enjoying the ride.

“I wanna come.” 

You don’t care if you sound desperate because you are. You are desperate to come. You want that relief you took for granted for so long. All those times he never denied you, all those times he never even paused for a second before giving you all the pleasure in the world.

“Beg for it.”

His response surprises you. You can see the desire in his eyes and how much he’s actually enjoying this, but you never expected that he would be so into it. Maybe he didn’t know it either, but he definitely loves the state you are in. He even seems to enjoy edging himself because while torturing you, he’s torturing himself as well.

“Beg?”

“Yes, baby. Beg. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I-” You can’t deny that, can you? You always imagined it this way, but you never actually begged before. It’s easier when you are just imagining things, but looking at his face and saying those words… It feels incredibly hard.

“If you are not ready to beg yet, you are not ready to come, sweetheart.”

Oh, that’s awfully cruel of him yet so freaking hot. He knows you want to do this so badly, but your pride is standing in the way, and he’s willing to take you to the point where you wouldn’t care about it anymore. Yet your mouth says something else.

“But I am so close…” 

“I know.” He moves in and out of you. His pace is torturously slow, yet it still feels amazing.

Then his fingers move onto your clit, gently rubbing it, and you feel a jolt of electricity all through your body. It’s like a promise. The promise of blinding pleasure, but he stops after a couple of rubs and makes you whine.

“You know what you have to say, don’t you?” You nod in response, tears are beginning to well up. “You can get what you want, any time you want.” You know that, but it’s like your mouth is having a hard time saying those words. “And you know we can stop this any time you want, right?”

He’s trying to remind you of your safe word, but you don’t want to stop. You have no intention of using it.

“Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetically, but it makes him smile. Why is it so hard to say? 

“Please what?” He combines his words with actions. He moves a little bit harder inside you, and it reminds you of what you need. All you need is to ask him, and you know he will give it to you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, bracing yourself to beg.

“Please move harder.” When you open your eyes back up, you see Bucky smirking. It just spurs something inside you. “Please, please…”

“Oh, baby…” He sounds so condescending yet loving at the same time. You have no idea how that’s even possible. “You really need it, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Your answer comes out instantly. Fuck your pride, you need this.

“Then you will get what you want.” You feel relieved but it doesn’t last long. “But I have one condition.” He completely stops while talking. “You won’t come before I say you can, got it?”

“But…”

“I will move faster and harder, like you asked me to, but you gotta hold it.” He sounds like he’s explaining edging to someone who has no idea what it is. “Show me what a good girl you can be, and I will give you what you want.”

Fuck… He’s making it so hard and hot at the same time. You really didn’t think he would take it this seriously. You thought just a please would be enough for him but it’s not. Yet you can’t seem to find it in your heart to regret asking him to do this.

“Can you do that for me?”

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.”

“I know you can take it, sweetheart. Just show me how good you are.”

He’s a menace. He knows praising you will help and he’s using it damn well. So you find yourself nodding, and that’s when he finally starts to move again. 

His hands are grabbing your waist, while he’s fucking you the way you imagined it. It’s rough, it’s fast, but god damn, it feels amazing. You feel your orgasm is quickly approaching, especially after all that teasing, and you try not to focus on the pleasure. It’s so hard to move against your nature. Your body just wants to give into it and enjoy it to the fullest, but no, that’s not what your mind wants. So you close your eyes to fight it. Maybe that will help.

“No, no, no.” You hear Bucky saying. “You gotta look me in the eyes, baby. No cheating.”

“But that’s not…” He doesn’t let you finish. 

“But it is.” 

“Fine.” You know you sound like a child when you open your eyes back to see his pretty ones. They are so full of love and desire. You could come just looking into his eyes but you won’t. Not until he says so. You want to experience that crashingly intense orgasm.

“Good girl.” 

As if calling you a good girl with that deep voice of his isn’t enough, he starts to gently rub your clit and you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your pussy is begging for release. So are you.

“You are doing so good for me, baby.” His voice is full of adoration. “You look so beautiful. All spread for me. Just waiting for my command to come around my cock.” He slams so hard inside you that it makes you moan even though you were trying to hold back all this time. “Let me hear you. You make such pretty noises.”

“Please, Bucky.” It’s so hard to hold back. You can feel tears running down your cheeks. You never wanted to come this badly in your life before. “Please let me come.”

Finally, those words come out of your mouth. It has been a tough journey, but finally, you can ignore your pride and just ask for what you really want.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He suddenly pushes your legs onto your chest, practically folding you into two. That allows him to move deeper inside you. “You can come now,” he says right before he starts to move again.

And just like that, you start coming on his command. It’s unbelievable how your body was just waiting for four words to come out of his mouth. All that teasing, all the build-up and anticipation pays off. Your whole body starts to shake while he’s railing you like there’s no tomorrow. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted with the most delicious moans coming out of them. 

“That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He sounds like he’s close himself, but you are too lost in the bubble of pleasure to do or say something about it. 

It’s nothing like you have ever felt before. It’s so intense that there’s no thought in your mind, other than Bucky and how good he makes you feel. It’s so long that you forget to breathe for a while. Your ears are buzzing, and your muscles are contracting. You never knew this was possible. You never knew it would be better than you imagined.

When you finally come down from your high, you open your eyes to see Bucky with the most pleased expression. He hasn’t come yet. You can feel how hard he’s inside you, but you can see how accomplished he feels.

“God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He keeps moving with the same pace, chasing his high.

“Come for me, Bucky,” you say while you reach out to touch his face. He has been working so hard to make your fantasy real. “Come inside me. Please.”

“Fuck.” You can see he’s about to come. The veins around his eyes get so visible when he’s close. “You want it, baby?” His voice comes out like a groan.

“Yes. I want it. Please, give it to me.”

That does it. You just watch how he starts to come and damn, it’s such a pretty sight. You have seen this many times before, but it never ceases to surprise you. Him losing himself in pleasure like that… Especially when you know you are the reason for it. You are the reason why he’s so turned on. You are the reason why he comes so hard. You are the one doing this to him. 

When he’s done, he gently moves out and rolls next to you. You whine a little because of how empty you suddenly feel. You feel his hot and deep breaths on your neck. As soon as you think you are feeling a little cold, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid someone else will hear you.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I enjoyed that.”

“Oh, I saw how much you enjoyed it, Mr. I’m Not Sure If I Can Do This.”

He scoffs at you bringing up his first reaction. Oh, how wrong he was. It was a completely unexpected experience.

“Maybe we should try choking next time.” You test the waters reluctantly, but the look he’s giving you is nothing but promising.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Devotion & Desire

Chapter One

Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?

Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.2k

A/N : this is my first time writing Bucky and writing omegaverse, sorry if anything doesn't meet the usual standards of the genre.

MASTER LIST

Chapter One

You were shivering and he hated what that did to him.

Soaked clothes clung to your figure, leaving nothing to the imagination and betraying every little shiver.

He watched you fumble with your soaked purse for your phone, and heard your frustration a moment later as your call quickly cut out. You shook it, wiped the wet screen on your damp blouse, but he knew that wasn’t going to help matters. Judging from the state of you, the phone was waterlogged and you’d be lucky to get it working again.

You leaned back against your apartment door, kicking it with your heel, letting out the weakest string of cuss words he’d ever heard. It was almost adorable.

All the while, he was pressed against his apartment door, eye to the peephole, watching it all unfold. It wasn’t so much that he was spying on you. No, Bucky liked to think that he was making your life easier. You were such a timid little thing and, ever since you’d moved in across the hall, he’d done everything he could to be a good alpha and not make you uncomfortable.

He’d seen how skittish you were the first time your paths had crossed; him leaving his apartment, just as you were getting home from the grocery store, shock causing you to fumble and drop your bags. You’d barely been able to maintain eye contact as he handed you your Cookie Crunch cereal. 

Of course, he didn’t hold it against you - how could he? You were an omega with no reason to trust him, and he knew it couldn’t be easy for you; being the only omega in the building, living across from the only alpha.

So, he’d taken to keeping an eye on you, making sure there were no more accidental meetings in the hallway and that you had no reason to fear him.

But now you were shivering and soaked from the storm raging outside, no coat over the blouse-skirt uniform you wore to work at Gracie’s diner. Had you walked three blocks in the rain without an umbrella? Hadn’t anyone tried to stop you? He found himself overwhelmed by the urge to help you, protect you and, before he realised he was doing it, he was slowly opening the door.

He couldn’t leave you out there, cold and shivering.

Your eyes widened and you shrank back a little. Bucky tried his best to give a friendly smile, making sure not to make any sudden moves or get any closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, “are you okay?”

“I -” your voice came out barely more than a shy whisper, “- I got locked out.”

“Did you call Glenn?” He asked, even though he knew you couldn’t, even though he knew your phone had died before you’d managed to get through to the building manager.

“My phone died,” you told him, holding it up as if you thought he might not believe you.

“Do you want me to call him for you?” He asked and you gave a timid nod. For a second he looked ready to turn and head back into his apartment for his phone, but then he saw you pull your arms around yourself, trembling even more violently. “Do you want to come in and get warm while you wait?”

He watched your eyes drop and let you take a few seconds to consider your options. It was late, far too late to go disturbing any of your beta neighbours and, he knew just how easy it was for omegas like you to get sick.

After a few seconds, you nodded.

“Okay,” he said softly, stepping back, giving you space to move into his apartment.

Your arms wrapped tighter around your body as you stepped over the threshold. He watched your nose twitch, obviously feeling a little overwhelmed by his scent.

“It’s okay,” he tried to reassure you as he slowly shut the door, “you’re safe, I promise. Wait here, I’ll grab you something warm.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer before quickly moving further into his apartment, heading into his bedroom. He was already starting to understand why the other residents of the building had taken to calling you little mouse. It turned his stomach upside down to think about how apprehensive you were and what might have happened to you to cause it.

You were still in the exact spot where he’d left you, still trembling and hugging yourself tight, clothes dripping on the carpet. (Though he quickly regretted looking down and seeing the way the drips from your clothes were running down your bare legs to your little white socks.)

“Here, you can borrow these,” he told you, handing you a dark hoodie and pair of sweatpants. “They might be a little big, but they’re warm.”

After taking them, you were ushered into the bathroom to dry yourself off and change, while he went to call the building manager. And, when you reemerged five minutes later, it took every ounce of restraint he had not to laugh at the sight of you, drowning in his clothes. He gave you space, waving a hand towards the sofa, indicating that you could sit if you wanted to.

You took a seat, peached on the very edge of the sofa.

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” he told you, realising that you hadn’t been officially introduced, even though he was sure you already knew his name like he knew yours. 

You responded with your own name, then; “thank you for helping me.”

“That’s okay,” he replied before taking a very obvious pause, giving you an uncertain look. “I have some bad news though; it’s Glenn’s night off. He won’t be back until the morning.”

“Oh.”

He watched as you glanced around nervously.

“I told him you could stay here,” Bucky told you. You both knew that you didn’t have any other choice, so you didn’t bother to try and argue. All you offered was a little nod. “Are you hungry? I was gonna order a pizza.”

“I - I like pizza,” you told him, managing to force a smile to your lips.

It took some coaxing from him, but he found out what pizza you liked and ordered it. Then he put the TV on for you, there was some weird baking program on but you seemed happy enough with it, so he left it on. If anything, the background noise seemed to settle you a little and, after a while, you finally sat back on the sofa, almost disappearing in his hoodie.

“Are you warm enough?” He asked when he noticed you pulling the hood up and snuggling into it.

“I am now.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh, the sort of sound he didn’t make very often and you caught him looking at you with a gentle sort of smile. He couldn’t help it, there was just something so cute about you in that moment, though he almost felt bad the moment he noticed you shyly start to chew on your lip.

“So,” he started, not sure what he wanted to ask, just wanting to make conversation and hopefully set you a little more at ease with him, “what made you move here?”

“After the blip I was staying in an omega-only building, but when everyone came back, the building’s original owner put up the rent,” you shrugged.

He gave a knowing nod. It wasn’t easy for omegas, while there were laws to protect them against discrimination, because of their monthly heat cycles and how prone they were to getting sick, it was hard for them to hold down well-paid jobs. He assumed that was why you worked at the diner, where shifts could be planned and swapped easily.

“I guess it must be weird for you living here with mostly betas... and me...” 

While he knew what it was like for him to have to live across the hall from you, he could only imagine how it felt for you. Alphas tended to learn at a young age to control themselves and to ignore day to day stimulus, but he knew omega’s had it worse, that their senses were heightened beyond even alphas. He’d catch your scent in the hallway from time to time, and he was certain you’d catch his. 

“It’s okay. Everyone’s been really nice, and -” you hesitated shyly, “- and you’re being nice now.”

He didn’t ask what you meant by now. Bucky knew better than anyone what he could be like, how his gruff, withdrawn and sarcastic attitude could make people uncomfortable.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been around an omega, and I -”

A sudden knock that the door startled you enough to make Bucky wince, completely losing his train of thought. He gave you an uncomfortable look before standing and heading to the door, muttering about how it must be the pizza.

Five minutes later, you were both sitting on his sofa, eating pizza. He made awkward small talk, asking if the food was okay, telling you a little about the pizzeria and how he’d found it a couple of months back and, little by little, your responses got slightly less reluctant. Eventually, you seemed to realise that you were safe and that he wasn’t going to hurt you. He wasn’t sure when or why that became important to him, but the last thing he wanted was for you to feel unsafe around him.

Life had to be hard enough for a lone omega without your alpha neighbour making it worse. And, besides, surely it would be easier for the both of you if you weren’t constantly jumping at each other’s shadows.

Before he could say anything, he noticed you looking at his vibranium hand. Or rather, trying really hard not to look at his hand. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that he wasn’t wearing his gloves - why would he when he was sitting on his own sofa?

“It’s okay,” he said, shrugging, “you can ask.”

Shame flashed on your face and he could tell you were uncomfortable. “Did you have an accident?”

“Yeah, a very long time ago.”

“Oh, well... I’m glad you’re okay...”

For a moment he felt his lips almost pull into a smile, any discomfort he’d felt instantly washing away with your words.

“I, uh, heard you like to draw?” It came out more like a question and had you looking at him seeming a little confused.

“Yeah, a little,” you answered. “I’m not very good though. Who told you?”

“Nikki from downstairs,” he explained and you gave a little nod. “Her and Jade really seem to like you, they’re always talking about you.”

It made you smile, and that smile settled him a little. It was going better than he’d dared to hope and you no longer seemed afraid of him. In fact, you started volunteering information without being prompted. 

“They’ve both been really nice,” you told him, “they asked me to go out with them on Friday when I get off work.”

He smiled. “Girls night out?”

“Yeah, though... well, it’s been a really long time since I went on a night out...”

Bucky gave a knowing nod, knowing it probably wasn’t easy for you as an unclaimed omega.

“I’m sure Niikki and Jade will look out for you,” he reassured you.

Conversation from there got a little easier; he told you that he grew up in Brooklyn and that he’d been in the army, and you told him about work and how you’d seen him in Gracie’s Diner a couple of times. You’d never served him, Gracie had rules about that. She was an elderly, take-no-shit sort of woman, and was one of the few employers you’d come across who genuinely went out of her way to look out for the omega’s working for her.

After the conversation reached a natural conclusion, Bucky got up, gathering the dirty plates and the pizza box, and headed for the kitchen. He didn’t even realise that you’d followed after until he turned to find you standing there, and almost jumped out of his skin.

“Sorry,” you almost recoiled at his shock, “I just - can I have a glass of water?”

He looked at you for a moment, completely taken aback - it wasn’t often that anyone managed to sneak up on him - then he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“Yeah sure,” he handed you a glass, biting back a laugh, “now I get when they call you mouse, you’re so quiet.”

You let out a little laugh, shyly dropping your gaze as you moved around him to the sink. Bucky bit his lip, catching your scent as you stepped past him, and he instantly hated himself for how much he enjoyed your sweet smell.

His eyes followed you as you returned to the sofa, took a drink, and then let out the cutest little yawn he’d ever seen.

“Tired?” He asked, moving back towards you, but not sitting down.

“A little,” you shrug. “The dinner rush at Gracie’s was really hectic.”

He gave an understanding nod before starting to think about the sleeping arrangements. Under normal circumstances, he might have offered you his bed but, even if he changed the sheets that he rarely slept on, he was certain being in his bedroom would overwhelm your omega senses.

“I can get you some bedding and you can sleep on the sofa?” He offered, looking at you and then looking at the sofa, certain it was big enough for you to get a comfortable night’s sleep.

You glanced at your watch, seeming almost embarrassed when you realised it was only 10pm.

“You don’t have to yet -” you started to protest.

“It’s fine, really,” Bucky told you with a gentle smile.

You gave a couple more weak protests as he went to grab you some pillows and a blanket, but you still got to your feet and helped him set up a little makeshift bed on the sofa for you. He then paused, taking in the sight of you, drowning in his clothes.

“Are you gonna be warm enough?”

At just the mention you seemed to snuggle further into his oversized hoodie.

“I’ll be fine,” you said with a sweet smile before fighting back another yawn. “Thank you, Bucky.”

After some awkward shuffling about, making sure you had everything you needed, telling you to help yourself if you needed another drink, and giving you the TV remote, Bucky finally left you to get some sleep.

He felt awful for making you sleep on the sofa, but there was really no way you would have been comfortable in his room. It was still early, at least by his standards, but he grabbed his sheet and pillow and settled himself on the floor by the window, content to read for a few hours before trying to get some sleep.

He didn’t stir until around 2am a hazy nightmare ripping him from sleep. For a few minutes he sat, trying to calm his racing heart before realising that he needed to use the bathroom, and that was going to mean sneaking past you.

It took ten minutes for him to build up the nerve to try to sneak to the bathroom without disturbing you. Moving slowly, he crept from his bedroom and slowly made his way through the den towards the bathroom, but he couldn’t help but stop and look at your sleeping form. Somehow you seemed even smaller when you were sleeping, tightly curled up on your side, your face hidden somewhere in the hood of his hoodie.

For a few seconds, he lingered, listening to the soft sound of your breathing before starting to feel a little bit creepy, but it was nothing compared to how he felt when he finally reached the bathroom.

Once the door was closed and locked behind him, he was immediately overwhelmed by your sweet scent left on the towel you’d used to dry yourself and the damp clothes you’d left neatly folded on the radiator. He hated himself for the way his cock twitched and the way he lifted the towel to his nose.

Your scent stirred something in him that he hadn’t felt in years, a sort of longing that left him feeling uncertain, fighting against the urge to go to you and -

Fuck.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do. His cock twitched again at the thought of burying his face against your neck and pressing his nose to your gland. A wildly inappropriate thought that had his alpha urges starting to stir, wanting to claim you as his.

That thought made him feel worse; there you were, finally letting your guard down and starting to trust him and all he could think about was how good your tight little body would feel wrapped around his cock...

He felt like he was losing his mind.

It was your scent, the fact he hadn’t been this close to an omega in years and, now, it felt like you were everywhere.

He grimaced as he took a piss, then he started to pace, not wanting to have to sneak back past you when he was at half-mast. But the longer he stayed in the bathroom, the more your sweet omega scent got to him, driving him crazy.

Gritting his teeth, and hating himself more than ever, he reached into his sweatpants and started to stroke his aching cock. His free hand reached for your damp blouse and held it to his face, and he lost himself in thoughts of you. It wasn’t long before he was coming all over his hand, barely biting back his desperate grunts of pleasure, muffling them with your blouse.

Then, finally, he was able to sneak back to his room and spend the night thinking about how much of an asshole he was.

The next morning he got up early, sneaking past the little curled up bundle on the sofa and letting himself out of the apartment. He managed to get your key from the building manager and make it back upstairs before you woke, and you seemed more than happy to get out of there as quickly as possible once you were awake.

You did stop to give him a thank you hug, and Bucky damn near asked you to stay but, thankfully, you didn’t seem to want to linger.

Once you were gone, he went through his apartment, opening all the windows, trying to get rid of your intoxicating smell before heading out for the day.

The next day he came home to find a box in front of his apartment door. On top of it, there was an envelope with his name in large, looping letters, and beneath it was a bundle of clothing. The clothes you had borrowed. Cautiously, he reached for the envelope, opening it to find a thank you card from you. You had signed your name followed by three little x’s.

Opening the box, he realised it was an apple pie from Gracie’s, the sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon filling his nose, but it was the scent coming from the clothes you borrowed that really got to him. His cock twitched just at the thought and had him quickly unlocking the door to his apartment, wanting to get inside and try to get himself under control again.

Over the next few days, he did his best to avoid you, knowing it was best for both of you if he kept his distance, but fate seemed to have other plans.

First it was in the hallway, you leaving for an evening shift at the diner just as he was getting home; you smiled and made small talk, asking how he was and if he’d enjoyed the apple pie. Somehow it ended with him offering to walk you to work and then offering to meet you to walk you home. He insisted despite you telling him that he didn’t have to. The streets of New York late at night just weren’t safe for an unclaimed omega on her own. And, despite his discomfort, he knew he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to you.

He saw the looks he got as he waited outside Gracie’s for you, the smirks and the smiles, and the look of embarrassment that fell over your face when Gracie whispered something to you. But that didn’t stop it becoming a regular thing over the next two weeks.

Then there was laundry night, a night that had been a tactical affair for Bucky for as long as he’d lived in the building; every Wednesday after nine when no one else was around. But there you were, chatting with Nikki from downstairs who’d decided to follow you to catch up with the gossip.

He was about to turn back and slip away unnoticed, until -

“Hey Bucky,” Nikki called out.

He forced a smile to his lips and raised his hand in an awkward wave as he approached, and you gave him that shy little smile that always made his heart beat a little faster. He watched as Nikki’s eyes moved from him to you and back again, a barely suppressed grin tugging at her lips.

“We were just talking about my birthday on Friday,” she told him, giving you a sly little glance, “you should come out with us.”

“I don’t think so,” he shrugged, quickly focusing his attention on getting his laundry in the washer so he could get out of there as quickly as possible. 

“Come on Bucky, we need a big scary alpha to make sure the other alpha’s leave mouse alone,” Nikki continued.

If he hadn’t looked at you, he wouldn’t have noticed your sudden discomfort or the way you were chewing the inside of your cheek. Clearly there was more to Nikki’s comment than she was letting on.

“What other alphas?” He asked.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, “it doesn’t matter.”

If Nikki noticed your discomfort, she certainly didn’t let it stop her from explaining; “last week some douchebag alpha spent half the night bothering her.”

“What?” He barely managed to rein in his annoyance, the instinct that told him you were to be protected, that you were some weak and helpless thing.

“Asshole kept asking when her heat was and if she needed company,” Nikki continued.

“He was just drunk, it wasn’t that bad,” you sighed.

“You’re too nice for your own good, mouse,” Nikki told you, shaking her head. “If me and Jade hadn’t been there...”

She didn’t need to say it. It wasn’t a secret how some alphas could be, how some didn’t want to take no for an answer, especially since the blip; so many of them returned to find their omega had moved on with their lives or, some, moved on without their omegas. But, just because the world was a mess, Bucky didn’t think you deserved to have to deal with some prick of an alpha who didn’t respect your boundaries. 

You let out a sigh and gave a weak shrug. “Maybe I shouldn’t go if you think it’s gonna cause problems...”

“What? No, that’s now why I’m saying, you have to -” 

“I can probably come for a couple of hours,” Bucky offered. He hated how dejected you looked, hated that you felt like you had to miss out on having fun with your friends because you didn’t feel safe.

“Really?” You asked, trying to hold back the smile that was desperate to spread across your face.

“Yeah,” he conceded, “but just for a couple of hours.”

Nikki reached over, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “You’re the best, Bucky.”

Fortunately for him, ten minutes later, the pair of you were done with your laundry and he was left to sit in relative silence with his book, wondering just how much he was going to regret agreeing to go out with you.

(A lot. The answer was a lot.)

He opted to meet you all at the bar about half an hour after everyone got there, managing to slip in unnoticed and take up at the bar, out of the way, but able to keep an eye on things, watching you on the dancefloor. That was why he was there; he was just making sure no one harassed you or tried to ruin your night. But he didn’t stay undiscovered for long.

You smiled as your eyes met his, leaning against the bar, waiting for your drink. He watched, not sure whether to be impressed or concerned as you knocked back a tequila shot and washed it down with a mouthful of beer. Your nose wrinkled at the taste, but he didn’t say anything until you purposefully looked his way again.

“What?” You asked him, noticing how he was watching you.

“What?” He repeated.

You moved closer to his side, your smile widening.

“You were watching me.”

“It’s just - you’re really not what I thought,” he told you, awkwardly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His stomach knotted the moment you started to frown, it was almost enough to make him wince.

“You’re just... you’re not like other omegas,” The moment he said it, Bucky seemed to realise how it sounded. Grimacing, he fumbled over an explanation. “I mean, you’re different from other omegas and tonight you just seem - I don’t know, I just feel like I’m seeing a new side of you.”

Your eyebrow rose and you just stared at him, lost for words.

“I’m sorry,” he tried again, “It’s just been a long time since I -”

“Talked to another human being?” You offered before cracking a smile.

“Yeah, something like that,” he said, giving a little smile of his own and falling silent.

He hoped that the conversation was over and that you’d return to the dancefloor, but you didn’t. Instead you stood right there, carrying on the awkward silence until the song changed and you had a terrible idea.

“D’you maybe wanna come dance?” You offered and he quickly flashed you a look that could only be described as pure fear. He shook his head, watching in horror as you reached for his arm and started to tug. You knew you couldn’t move him, but that didn’t stop you from trying. “C’mon, stop being a party-pooper.”

He let you struggle for a moment, hoping beyond hope that you’d get bored but, when you didn’t, he let out a sigh and knocked back his beer before getting to his feet. 

Your grin spread from ear to ear as you tugged him onto the dancefloor, ignoring the fact that his expression was stuck somewhere between amused and terrified. He didn’t dance. In fact, he pretty much just stood there awkwardly  until you grabbed his arms and forced some movement into his body, all while biting your lip and trying to stifle your laughter.

After a couple of songs he let you pull him back towards the bar with everyone else for another round of shots, chasing your tequila with beer again. He tried to take the opportunity to slink back to his seat, but the moment he started edging away, your arm wrapped around his, forcing him into the conversation.

When everyone returned to the dancefloor, you pulled him along with you, your hand dropping to hold his and squeezing tighter.

The music got more lively as the night went on and, as the bar started to fill, you found yourself moving closer and closer, until your body was pressed against his.

You barely seemed to notice your proximity to him, but Bucky noticed. His arm moved around your waist, keeping you safe from being jostled by other dancers and making sure the other alphas around knew that you were off-limits. He watched you as you lost yourself in the music and enjoyed the night.

At some point your hand ended you on his chest, and you were close enough that every sway of your hips had you brushing against him. Despite how crowded the room was, all he could smell was your sweet scent.

Every slow, deep breath he took, trying to keep himself in check, made it worse. And, when you leaned against him completely, looking up at him, he almost lost his mind.

“D’you want to get out of here?” You asked him.

The rational part of his mind told him that you meant you wanted to go home; the club was noisy and full, and it was probably wreaking havoc on your sensitive omega senses but, for a moment, he dared to hope that it meant more.

“Sure,” he told you with a smile.

As you made your way outside, he kept his arm around you, helping you navigate the crowd until you were finally outside in the cool night air. You decided to walk home and Bucky was honestly glad of the relative quiet of the New York streets versus the noise of the bar, and he was happy to walk side by side with you, only sparing you the occasional glance and smile.

“What?” You asked when you caught one of those smiles.

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

You nudged him with your elbow. “Tell me.”

“I was just thinking about the first time we met,” he explained, shaking his head, “you were so timid.”

“That was before I got to know you,” you shrugged. “I thought you were just the grumpy alpha who lived across the hall.”

“Grumpy?” He looked at you, offended.

“Very grumpy,” you smiled.

“And now?”

You looked at him, shyly biting your lip and fighting back a smile.

“Still deciding,” you answered playfully.

Bucky held the door open for you as you made your way into your building, grinning and giggling as you both boarded the elevator to the fourth floor.

It wasn’t long before you came to a stop outside of your apartment, and he watched you, waiting for you to open the door and slip inside, wanting to know that you were home safe and sound. 

Instead you looked at him for a moment before surging forward and pressing your lips to his. You lingered for a few seconds while he was completely paralysed by shock. When you pulled back, you bit your lip nervously, obviously forcing yourself to maintain eye contact while Bucky came to terms with what you’d just done.

“You’ve been drinking,” he said softly, and it was hard to tell if he was trying to let you down gently, or trying to talk himself out of doing something he might regret.

“Not a lot,” you answered, rising up to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth while your hands gripped his jacket.

“I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret...”

“I won’t regret it. I’ve wanted this for weeks,” you told him, pressing against him and feeling his arm slip around your waist. “Ever since I first caught your scent in the hallway... I thought it was gonna trigger my heat...”

A low rumble sounded in the back of his throat and the arm around your waist pulled tighter.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, this time not bothering to hide the way he was breathing in your sweet scent, the smell that had been haunting him for weeks.

You looked up, your pupils already dilated with arousal, staring at him in a way that had his last shred of control fraying completely. You bit your lip as you nodded, and that was all he needed from you.

Bucky fumbled for his keys, barely loosening his hold on you as he led you into his apartment, turning to kiss you the second the door was shut. He groaned as you whimpered against his lips, eagerly pressing against him, clinging to his jacket as he picked you up and carried you towards his bedroom. The kiss broke and your face pressed against his neck, letting out another little moan as you inhaled his scent.

His arms tightened around you, his alpha instincts desperate to take over, as he sat on the edge of his bed, you on his lap. He kissed you again, groaning against your lips as he felt your hips starting to rock against his. After shrugging out of his jacket and pulling off his gloves, he started to pull open your blouse, his hands trailing over every newly exposed inch of skin.

Your hands tugged at his shirt, urging it up over his head, and his heart almost stopped when he saw the way you were looking at him, drinking in the sight of him. You ran a hand down his chest and over the defined ridges of his abs before reaching the buckle of his belt. Looking up, you held his gaze as you slowly unbuckled him and started to work on the fastening.

Another noise sounded in the back of his throat, something barely restrained, something that wanted, needed. And you didn’t disappoint. Your hand slipped into his jeans and wrapped around his cock, pulling it out so you could start to stroke it. His breath caught when your eyes met his, glassy with need, your omega instincts starting to take control. You kissed him again, desperate and eager, as your hand worked up and down the length of his cock.

You surprised him when you pulled away, when you dropped to your knees in front of him and started to tug his pants and boxers down. Bucky lifted himself, helping you drag them down to his ankles.

He wanted to say something, wanted to tell you how perfect you looked as you looked up at him, as your hand gripped his cock again, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead he reached for you, cupping your cheek tenderly before letting his fingers slip down to your neck to ghost over your mating gland. A soft moan escaped you and there was a palpable spike in your arousal, the whole room seeming to fill with your sweet scent. 

Bucky breathed deeply, taking it all in, letting out a groan of his own when he realised there was another scent in the air; the tart scent of your slick.

Before he could even think, you started to nuzzle against his thigh gland, rubbing yourself against him scenting him while also coating yourself in his musk. You were giving yourself to him so completely, and there was nothing more arousing to him.

Your hand started to move again, slipping up and down his cock, causing a pearly glob of precum to form on his tip, and he about damn-near lost his mind when you leaned forward to lick it up. His tip continued to leak as you looked up at him through your lashes and started to take him into your mouth.

The tart smell of slick only seemed to get thicker as you started to suck him, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth, until he felt himself nudge the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but remained fixed on his, lips pulling back before sinking down again.

It wasn’t until his head dropped back that Bucky realised his mistake.

You moved so suddenly, your lips pulling away from him, your hand reaching for your boot.

He saw the knife just in time to stop it from piercing his chest, his vibranium arm catching your wrist and twisting it. 

You struggled against him, jaw clenched, any sign of arousal now completely gone from your face despite the way the smell of it still hung in the air.

“What the fuck?” He demanded, gripping you tight.

You didn’t answer save for letting out a sound of indignation and anger, pure rage on your face as you struggled against him. He wasn’t going to let you go until he got some answers, until he figured out just what the fuck was going on.

But you threw a punch, then another, first catching him on the cheek before getting him square in the nose. It was enough of a distraction to cause him to loosen his grip, and that was all you needed.

Pulling away, you sprinted from his room. He tried to follow after and almost tripped, running and pulling his pants up as he went. 

You left his apartment and darted into your own, locking the door behind you. 

By the time he’d kicked the door down, you were already halfway down the fire escape. He climbed out of the window, ready to follow, watching as you had to jump down to the street below, falling awkwardly. He started after you but then he stopped, knowing that there was nothing he could do; despite the hour, there were too many people around, and if a sweet little omega like you started screaming about the big scary alpha, no one was going to believe his side of things.

Swearing under his breath, he turned and headed back to his apartment, pulling out his phone. One way or another, he was going to find you and he was going to find out what the fuck was going on. 

End Note : anyone new to my fics... sorry for the twist, it's just what I do 😅 So, yeah, this is my first time writing omegaverse and my first time writing Bucky. It's set post Falcon and the Winter Solider and post blip. Will I follow canon strictly? Probably not. Anyway, if you've read this far, thanks so much for checking this out! I don't have a set upload schedule for this fic, but I'm going to try to update it at least once a month.

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

[sansaorgana]

— DAMAGED GOODS

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC

SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍

WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding

WORD COUNT — 6,610

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAMAGED GOODS

Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.

They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.

“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.

The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.

“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.

“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”

“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”

“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.

The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.

“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.

Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.

“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.

“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.

About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.

(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.

They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.

The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.

(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.

She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable. 

(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.

The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.

“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.

The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.

“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.

“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”

“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”

“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.

“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.

“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”

“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.

“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”

Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.

The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.

“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.

“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.

“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.

He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.

“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.

“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.

“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.

“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.

He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.

She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.

In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.

“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.

“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.

“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”

“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.

“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.

“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.

“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.

Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.

“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.

“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.

“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.

“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.

As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.

That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.

Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.

And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.

Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.

At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.

“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.

“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”

“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.

“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.

“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.

“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.

But only one of them loved her… so much.

She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.

“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.

“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.

Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.

“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”

She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.

“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.

“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.

She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.

“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.

Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.

“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”

Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.

He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.

“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.

“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.

“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.

“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.

“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.

“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.

“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.

“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.

“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.

His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.

“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.

She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.

When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.

“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.

But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.

Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls. 

He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.

Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.

No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.

He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.

After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.

She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.

“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.

He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.

“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.

“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”

“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.

“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”

“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.

She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.

Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.

“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.

In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too. 

He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.

On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”

He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.

“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.

She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.

She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.

“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.

He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.

“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.

She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.

He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.

What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.

None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.

She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.

His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.

“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.

When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.

“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.

He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.

The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.

Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.

Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.

“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”

“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.

“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”

“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.

“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.

“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.

“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”

Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.

“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”

Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.

At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.

“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.

“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”

Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.

“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”

“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.

“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”

“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”

“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”

(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.

“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.

“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.

Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.

“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.

Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.

He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.

“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.

“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.

She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.

“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.

She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:

“I am.”

MASTERLIST

[tartagliove]

fae ajax…….. i need more of him 🤭🤭🤭

hiiii nonnie!! hehe me too, fae!ajax has me all •///• thank you so much for reading my fic!

[bloodibambiidoll]

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.�� Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

[carlottawllms]

Fake It Till You Make It

Mason Mount x Reader Fluff Autor’s note: So many of you wanted the fake dating trope, so here you go. I know this probably feels a little rushed and I apologise cause I know it’s not my best work, but I’m struggling a lot atm, so I'm just really proud of even finishing it. I have so many ideas but so little motivation to actually sit down and write…so, I’m sorry!

As always, feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! 🩷

As you looked at Ava, your best friend since nursery and her soon-to-be husband Benny, you still couldn’t believe they were actually going to get married.

She’d met him a couple of years ago during a night out. It had been planned as a girls night, but Benny had entered the picture with one of the most awful pick-up-lines you’d ever heard, but Ava had just laughed and ended up giving him a chance to speak to her for a little while.

You hadn’t understood back then and you were till certain, you would’ve kicked his arse for that lame chat-up, but maybe that was why you were still single, whilst your best friend would say yes in a white dress soon…

It hadn’t been a huge surprise Ava had picked you as her maid of honour, but you’d been in tears anyway and when she’d told you that Mason, one of Benny’s best friends would be your partner in crime as the best man, you’d been more than relieved.

You’d met Mason around a year into Ava’s and Benny’s relationship on the latter’s birthday party. After third wheeling them for a while, you and Benny had become close friends too so naturally, he’d invited you to his birthday as well.

Mason and you had hit it off well pretty quickly. He was an easy-going and open-minded person and although he could be a bit shy sometimes, he was a joy to spend time with. Which was also what made the whole planning for the wedding a lot easier than if he was someone you didn’t get along with at all.

The four of you had been sitting together for a few hours now already, discussing all the things that still needed to be tackled and whilst it obviously was some sort of a serious situation, you and Mason couldn’t hold back from making inside jokes and giggling at each other’s comments.

When Ava pulled you into the kitchen, claiming she had some snacks to grab for you all, you were pretty sure she’d give you a talking to for not taking everything serious enough.

To your biggest surprise though, she grinned when she turned around. “Soooo…you and Mason, huh?”

“We’re friends Ava, you know that.” You rolled your eyes at her. This wasn’t the first time she’d made a comment like this, but after you’d slightly lost your shit last time, you’d thought that she would just let it go…Clearly she wasn’t planning on doing so though. “I’ve told you before and nothing’s changed ever since. Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Because you’d be great together.”, she stated. “He’s a good one, you know that. And you can’t deny that he’s your type, can you?”

“Ava, I don’t need a man. I’m pretty focused on everything that’s going on in my life anyway and now your wedding too, obviously. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

“Oh y/n honey, a relationship doesn’t require time. You’re spending an awful amount of time with him anyway, there’s not much that would change, you know that. So why are you so dead set on refusing to be happy with him?”

You sighed deeply and ran a hand down your face. This wasn’t a conversation you ever wanted to happen and especially not when Mason was sitting just one room away. You hated showing a vulnerable side like this…even in front of your best friend. Opening up wasn’t like you…keeping your cards to yourself and sorting everything with yourself was what you preferred.

But you knew Ava wouldn’t let this one go anytime soon.

“Look…I’m not saying he’s not my type and yes, we obviously get along well, but there’s women falling to his feet left and right and most of them are gorgeous models in expensive clothes, with skinny legs and a flat tummy. You’ve seen the articles and everything too, so stop pushing me.”

“Hun, they’re just rumours nothing more. He’s a famous footballer, of course the press is all over him and using his name for some clicks.”, Ava smiled sympathetically. “Don’t you think he would’ve made a move already if he was interested in one of them? Look, he’s young, he’s handsome and obviously he’s having some fun, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t settle for the right woman. Maybe it’s you, you know? But you won’t find out until you give it a shot.”

Having some fun…the thought alone of him shagging any of those women made you feel like you wanted to throw up. They were probably super sexy in their lingerie, stretching on the bed like those underwear models did, whilst you wouldn’t look half as good even if you tried…

You shook yourself out of your thoughts. “Can we not discuss this anymore please, Ava?”   

Your best friend sighed in defeat, but still nodded; understanding you felt a bit uncomfortable and with the snacks she’d wanted to grab in hand, she ushered you back into the living room.

You knew the topic was far from over and that she wouldn’t just let it go like you asked. You just hoped she’d tone it down a touch.

However, your hopes should be crushed not less than a couple of days later when you and Mason were sitting together to sort some wedding stuff.

He’d freshly cut his hair into this quiff and you had a hard time taking your eyes off him. He looked handsome…more so than he normally did anyway and on top of that he was chewing on a gum you’d stupidly offered him a while ago. He looked hot as hell, and he wasn’t even trying.

In an attempt to gather your senses, you vanished into the kitchen to place the order for yours and Mason’s dinner. You already regretted having invited him to stay, but then again you hadn’t expected him to show up without this mohawk that had made him look slightly less attractive to you.

Even from the kitchen you noticed your phone alerting you of several new messages and when it didn’t stop, you called for Mason to check it.

“y/n?”, you heard him ask before a few seconds late he showed up in the kitchen, looking utterly confused. “Why’s Ava sending you photos of me, asking if you think I look hot?”

Your heart dropped to your tummy in embarrassment. You could feel how your cheeks turned into flaming red patches of skin within seconds as you snatched your phone out of his hands, but damage was obviously done.

“I’ll kill her.”

Mason saw just how serious you were, but he couldn’t help and find the situation slightly hilarious. If this was what he thought it was, you seemed to be in a slightly similar situation as he found himself in.

“You can admit that you think I’m hot, you know?”, he laughed. Stepping closer, he poked your sides and made you squirm, but when you tried to shuffle away from him, he was quick in pulling you into a hug. “So, do you think so?”

“She’s trying to play matchmaker.”, you sighed, still incredibly embarrassed he’d seen the messages. “She’s been sending me photos for days now. I think she’s tired of my single ass and it seems like you’re her latest victim in this game.”

“I think she’s doing a good job.” His chest rumbled right beneath your skin as he chuckled. “She’s pointing out all my best features from what I’ve seen. My eyes, my bum, my no-”

“Mase.”, you groaned. You knew he was trying to get you to laugh at it too, but you were too humiliated to do so. “Can we not talk about this please?”

“Okay, okay.”, he agreed. Pulling away from him, you could still detect that cheeky grin on his lips though, telling you everything about how he wasn’t done with the topic yet and you were already dreading his next comment. “But you know what they say about noses and the refere-”

“Mason!”

Laughing to himself he made sure to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible, trying to avoid you hitting him in jest, but he couldn’t help himself. You were too adorable when you were embarrassed.  

Giving you a bit of a break, Mason made sure to direct both of your attention back to what you were supposed to be doing: Finding a wedding gift for Ava and Benny. Of all the things the pair of you had to do, this one seemed to be the hardest and even after a while, you’d still not decided on what you wanted.

At some point, you simply gave up and sunk back into the cushions, chatting away whilst waiting for the food to arrive and thankfully it didn’t take too long.

“Fancy watching a bit of baby reindeer?”

“I’m not sure why you’re asking, when you’ve already put it on.”, you laughed when he’d selected the series before you’d even had the chance to say yes or no.  

“Oh, c’mon, you.”, he laughed. “As if you’d ever say no to watching it with me, you muppet.”

Laughing along, you moved over a little and pulled your blanket over your tucked knees. Usually, neither of you were shy of a little cuddle, but for some reason the whole thing with Ava’s messages was still playing in the back of your mind. You had no idea what he actually thought of them, if they’d made him uncomfortable cause he’d simply laughed it off, but it bothered you more than you were willing to admit.

“Why’re you so far away?”, he pouted not soon after though. Obviously unhappy with your choice of staying on your side of the sofa. “Move that cute little bum over here, you meanie.”

You wanted to refuse, you really wanted to, but the way he held his arm out for you with that adorable pout on his lips had you scrambling over in mere seconds, and you relaxed into his side.

For a while, both of you were engrossed in the episode, slightly creeped out by it all, but neither of you could deny how catching it actually was. You didn’t think you’d watch it by yourself, but with Mason holding you like this provided you with enough safety, to still feel comfortable.

“Why don’t we just pretend then?”, he suddenly asked, causing you to look at him confused. “Dating I mean.”, he explained, sitting up a little. “We could pretend we’re seeing each other.”

“What? Mase, why the hell would we do that?”

“To have out peace and quiet, obviously you wally.”, he laughed, but you still looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”, you eventually managed to get out. It was a bad idea, you knew that already. Well, the overall idea wasn’t too bad, but the fact that you knew already, that it would be you ending with a broken heart made it the absolute worst idea anyone had ever had.

When Ava had asked if he was your type, you hadn’t given her an answer, but truth be told, he absolutely was and you liked him more than you should. Mason had everything a man needed to have for you to be falling for him.

And that combined with fake dating made a terrible, terrible combination.

“Why not?”, he pouted, his big brown eyes gazing into yours as if you didn't already have problems keeping your cool when he was around.  “Just think about it for a second. It would get Ava out of your hair and benny would stop trying to set me up with girls I don’t like. It’s a win win.”  

“Doesn’t look like you don’t like them.” You’d not meant to say it out loud, but when you caught his questioning look you realised you accidentally had. “The photos…I’ve seen them and…it didn’t look like you didn’t like her.”

“What pho-…oh.” It took Mason a second to understand where you were coming from, but when he did, the slight embarrassment of being caught overcame him. “You mean Tara.”

You watched him scratching the back of his head as he blushed and the way he got so flustered was all you needed to see to have your doubts confirmed. Fake dating was a really shit idea – especially when he was emotionally involved with someone else.

“I’ve seen her a couple of times, yes, but it’s not thanks to Benny.”

“That would make fake dating even weirder, don’t you think?”

“Well, first of all, Tara and I aren’t exclusive of anything official. She knows it wasn’t more than a casual thing for a couple of times to see if anything could potentially come out of it.”, he explained awkwardly and from the way you kept fiddling with your fingers in your lap and avoided his gaze he could tell that you felt the same. “And secondly, nothing would change for us. Like…we hang out all the time anyway, just like you come to my games already. It basically won’t look different to anyone other than Ava and Benny. We’ll just tell them that we’re dating to see where it could go, you know? I won’t post on Instagram or whatever, you’ll still be my best friend.”

You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t sound tempting. Would you have to go through the whole I-told-you-so-conversation with Ava? Yes. But would she stop pestering you afterwards? Also yes.

“I don’t know, Mase.”, you whispered, feeling his gaze on you as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a reason to tell him no without revealing your feelings. “Wouldn’t it feel weird?”

Mason held your gaze when he grabbed your hand and pushed his fingers in between yours. “Does it feel weird?” You didn’t answer his question, but he felt you tightening your grip on his hand a little. “It won’t be for long, y/n. Just until after their big day so they can enjoy the time up to their wedding and the day itself too. Imagine Ava spending half her wedding day wondering if you have someone to dance with.”

A breathy laugh flew past your lips cause you knew he was right. Ava would most definitely check in on you more often that she should instead of enjoying her time with all the guests and whilst you still weren’t convinced at all of his crazy idea, you couldn’t help but feel something at the thought of having him by your side for the whole wedding.

“You know I’m right, y/n.”, Mason said gently, trying not to push you too far. “I won’t force you, it’s up to you. Just think about it, okay?”

“Promise it won’t change anything between us?”

His heart squeezed at the way you looked and sounded so worried. He knew you appreciated him and valued his friendship more than you’d ever said, just like he did the other way around and he hated to see you like this.

“I promise, y/n.”, he smiled. “We’ll go back to being friends and it’s going to be like nothing ever happened. Not that anything will happen, but you know what I mean.”

You sighed deeply, before nodding slowly. It was a stupid idea. A very stupid one.

“Pinky promise?”

Mason laughed softly, but held his pinky out nonetheless. “Pinky promise.”

-

But Mason was only partially right.

At first glance, the only thing that really changed was when you were with Benny and Ava. You held hands, cuddled when it felt like it was the right thing to do and Mason kissed your temple or cheek ever so often. He was touchy with you; always had his hands on you in one way or another and made sure to call you all sorts of cute pet names.

For you, however, everything changed.

In the beginning, it was mostly only the two of you meeting to discuss things, but the closer you got to the wedding, the more often the four of you came together. The moments when Mason pretended to be your boyfriend increased - as did the palpitations he triggered in you. You’d liked him before, but the longer the two of you carried on, the more certain you were that you didn’t just like him.

It scared the shit out of you. Just like the inevitable heartbreak that was closing in on you. And the more time you spent together, the worse it got and at a certain point you felt like it was suffocating you.

Luckily for you, you were usually able to hide your feelings well. Or so you thought.

“Earth to y/n?” When Mason gently placed his hand on your thigh, you were startled out of your thoughts. “This is like the third time you zoned out, is everything okay?”

“Oh erm…yes, I’m good, sorry. It’s just a lot.” Your cheeks were burning, embarrassment creeping up your veins.

You and him were sat up on your sofa, trying to finalise your speeches for the wedding reception, but your thoughts kept wandering. The last three meetings had been with Ava and Benny and not having Mason holding your hand or pulling you into his side now felt weird and as if something big was missing.

He could only assume how much pressure the added stress of the upcoming wedding had put on your shoulders. Ava was your best friend and you, as a perfectionist, had a hard time organising everything in a way that would ensure their day would be as perfect as possible. Mason had realised this early on and had tried to take some of the pressure off you by praising you for your good ideas, but he could only do so much.

“y/n.”, he sighed, pulling the blanket away a little so he could hold his arm out. “C’mere.”

You dropped your sheets of paper and pen on the small coffee table, before shuffling over and cuddling into his side. The warmth and comfort surrounding you the moment Mason wrapped his arms around your frame relieved the tension in your shoulders almost immediately and you couldn’t help but bury your face in the crook of his neck to suppress the urge to cry.

You were aware that it was a combination of several factors and not just your growing feelings for the handsome man who would never be yours, but the latter was what hurt you the most.

“It’s going to be okay, you know?”, Mason hummed softly. He cupped the back of your head with one hand, fingers applying gentle pressure on your scull and down your neck, whilst his other arm stayed wrapped tightly around your waist; effectively caging you against his body. “You’re doing a great job, the wedding is going to be amazing, and Ava and Benny will have the best day, thanks to all you’ve done.”

Mason pressed his lips to the top of your head, softly inhaling your familiar scent. He was beyond nervous too, but the way you clung to him like a koala just told him everything he needed to know about your state.

He kept you in his hold for a little longer, gently humming and trying to calm you down as he could feel your hot tears on his neck, but after a while, you peeled away from him and wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your hoodie.

“Better?” Mason carefully reached out and caught a final last tear rolling down your cheek, before cupping your jaw and kissing your forehead. “Would you like to hear my speech now? I’m sure it will make you laugh again.”

You had no doubt that it would. He was one of the funniest people you’d ever met; a quick wit who always had a funny comment up his sleeve. If you needed someone to cheer you up, it would always be Mason you’d choose.

“Go on then, Mr. Mount.”, you nodded, the smile back on your lips, and you sat back and relaxed into the cushions, watching him take a deep breath.

“So, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Mason, one of Benny’s best friends and the lucky guy he asked to be his best man. I’ve known Benny for basically my whole life now and can honestly say that he’s not only handsome, funny and brilliant, but also very caring and cha-…Benny, I can’t read your writing, what’s this word supposed to say?”

You shot him an incredulous look before laughing out loud; not believing he’d actually decided to stick with the idea he’d shown you on TikTok a couple of weeks ago.

Mason and you had been trying to write your respective speeches for weeks now, but especially he had struggled a lot with it. He just hadn’t felt quite confident about the whole thing, so he’d had a little snoop on TikTok and Instagram and in one of those videos the best man had attempted the same joke Mason had put into his speech now too.

“Think it’s too much?”

“No, it’s hilarious, Mase.”, you laughed. “They will love it, no doubt. Please go on.”

And go on he did. He delivered one of the best speeches you’d ever witnessed and whilst the beginning was more on the funny side, the rest was filled with honest and raw emotions that had you on the brink of tears again as you sat there in awe, watching him meaning every single word of it.

“Benny, I’m still confused how you managed to win Ava over with that god-awful pick-up line in that club back then, but I’m really glad you did. In Ava you found the love you deserve and Ava, I can assure you that in Benny you have someone who will always have your back. I know that you will both make each other very happy. What the two of you have is so rare and perfect, it’s something I can only wish for myself to find at some point in my life. You are endgame and I couldn’t be happier for you. So, everyone, please raise your glasses to the bride and groom, congratulations!”

Nervously, Mason lowered the sheet of paper into his lap. He’d been so focused on not messing up that he hadn't had the chance to observe your reactions at all and although he was rather proud of what he’d managed to put together, your opinion was very important to him and would probably have a big impact on the outcome too. But when he looked at you staring at him with your lips slightly parted and tears rolling down your cheeks, his heart skipped a beat.

“The woman who’ll get to marry you one day will be so lucky.”, you whispered, unable to form proper sentences as you were too overcome with emotions. His speech was so touching and loving and the way he’d included your best friend and what he’d said about her…he was just the perfect man, and you hated the position you’d got yourself into.

Mason just chuckled at your words and dropped his head as he could feel his cheeks heating up, but eventually he shuffled over and pulled you into a hug; his face finding a home in the crook of your neck.

“Seriously Mase, that’s such a beautiful speech.” You gently wrapped your arms around his broad frame, one hand coming up to the back of his head to scratch his skull and when it caused him to hum in content, you squeezed him a little tighter. “There’s nothing you should change about it.”

“Thank you, love.”

-

The time leading up to the wedding day flew by like nothing ever had. Mason and you had spent another countless of hours finalising everything and making sure everything was up to perfection and whilst you were truly proud of everything the two of you had managed to contribute to this special day, you couldn’t hold back the slight relief that overcame you the moment you and Mason sat down at your designated places in the venue.

“Stop being so nervous.”, he laughed quietly. “You’re a snotty mess already. Do I even want to know what kind of a nervous wreck you’ll be on your own wedding day?”

You had no idea how he could be so composed and calm on a day like today, but you were glad he was as he managed to calm your nerves a little too.

Mason leaned forward and cupped your chin as he carefully dabbed at the tears spilling over. “C’mon, stop those tears now, love. There’s no need for them.”

The way he was suddenly so close had your heart in your throat. His big brown eyes stared into your own and you were sure the whole world had stopped for a moment, making it just you two an no one else, but the start of the music quickly brough you back into the here and now.

The two of you joined all the other guests in getting up from your seats for the bride’s entrance and just when you thought you’d collected yourself, you felt Mason’s hand wrapping around yours and giving it a tight squeeze.

“No more tears, love.”, he whispered before he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

You were absolutely fucked.

A few hours later, you and Mason could finally relax properly. Just like you’d expected, he’d killed his speech and made everyone laugh and cry and even though you didn’t think of yourself as the greatest speaker, you were still happy of how you’d delivered yours.

You’d just watched Ava and Benny perfectly showing off their skills with their wedding dance, when Mason turned to face you.

“Would you do me the honour and dance with me, Ms y/l/n?” Just like the gentleman he was, he held his hand out for you to accept with a soft smile dancing on his lips.

“It would be my pleasure, Mr Mount.”

You placed your hand in his warm one and let him lead you onto the dance floor. He pulled you closer to his body, before placing his hands on your waist and naturally, yours moved around his neck.

He was closer than he’d ever been to you today, his perfume clouding your senses a little and when his eyes met yours, your knees went weak.

Mason had always been handsome – maybe the most handsome man you’d ever laid your eyes on – but today was something entirely else. The suit was perfectly fitted and made him look ten times more attractive than he already was and the quiff he’d touched up just before the wedding made his face seem even softer.

His big brown eyes and the freckles scattering all over his skin stood out the most to you, but the way he curled his lips into that sweet smile was what had you blushing like mad.

Your heart was thundering in your chest from the proximity, but also because all of sudden it hit you, that this was probably the last time you’d be this close. You’d agreed on ending the fake dating right after the wedding as Ava and Benny would leave for their three weeks honeymoon anyway and the realisation suddenly weighed heavy on your chest.

The moment you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, you dropped your head to his chest and as if he knew, Mason pulled you even closer. You could feel him running his hand up and down your spine; your open-back-dress making you feel his hot touch right on your skin and just like that, a first tear fell.

This was it. This was the moment you’d been dreading. The moment the inevitable heartbreak grabbed you with its cold claws, pulling you away from the best man anyone could ever ask for.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”, Mason whispered.

It was as if the world had suddenly stopped turning. Maybe not the whole world, but yours certainly had. You pulled away slowly, wanting to take a step back as there was no way he’d meant it, but Mason’s hands kept their firm grip on your waist.

“What?”

“I do.”, Mason breathed, making it sound as if he’d realised it just now. “I’m falling in love with you.”

He brought one hand up and cupped your jaw, gently wiping at the few tears spilling over your waterline. His big brown eyes were focused on yours, practically staring into your soul and pouring ever ounce of honesty right into you, making sure there wasn’t a single cell in your body thinking he was lying.

“I…I don’t…why?”

The small chuckle falling from his lips was adorable and had your heart skipping a beat, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening.

Here you were, still slowly swaying to the music that had faded into some sort of background noise. Mason’s fingers pushing into the small of your back, whilst the other hand was still holding your jaw, keeping your face tilted upright and your gaze on his.

“Because…”, he smiled. “Because you’re you. I just…I feel safe with you, like nothing bad can happen. You’re this ray of sunshine, that I’ve always needed in my life. You make me smile when all I want to do is break down and even when I don’t want anyone around, you’re the exception. You are this ridiculously beautiful person with a heart of gold, and you let me be myself around you without ever judging me for it. You make me feel as if being with me is easy when it is everything but.”

Mason carefully pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers just about touching your skin making you shiver.

“I know we started this as some sort of ploy to get Ava and Benny out of our hair, but to be honest…I’ve always known it was you. Right from the moment I met you. I can’t get you out of my head, y/n and I know it sounds whipped and pathetic, but-”

“It doesn’t.”, you whispered as you brought your hand up to his neck, fingers gently brushing through the soft strands of his hair. “I- I don’t even know what to say. It’s…you-”

Your voice cracked when Mason nudged his nose against yours, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I’m falling in love with you, too.”

And with that, you leaned in and closed the final distance to meet his lips in a hesitant, careful first kiss.

[eand47]

Chapter VII | A Little Death

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid, Koala, Robin, Dave (OC)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes/nicotine, mentions of sex, mentions of tattoos

Word Count: 21,2K

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NOTE: This chapter drained me mentally and physically ngl… I literally edited it for five hours and still I’m not 100% satisfied with it but my brain is fried as this is idk which day in a roll where I’ve been awake until 5/6am to write… anyway I hope that you will enjoy it as I really tried to make it as good as possible guys. Also most of you are going to hate me for what you are about to read…. anyway enjoy ^^

The songs for the chapter are - ‘A Little Death’ by The Neighbourhood, ‘Attention’ by Tokio Hotel, ‘True Disaster’ by Tove Lo and ‘A Big Jet Plain’ by Angus & Julia Stone.

Yelling filled up the hospital room. I winced when Shanks continued to scream at me. I had woken up like an hour ago. Opening my eyes and seeing that I was in a hospital bed confused and scared me. I didn’t remember anything from last night, since the moment I was with the creepy guy by the bar. But what happened after that I had no idea. The first person who I saw waking up was Shanks. He seemed so stressed and pissed at the same time. When he saw me waking up, the only thing he said was that he was going to call the nurse without giving me any explanations of how I ended here. The nurse came fast and told me she would run some test. When I asked her what happened to me, she just looked at Shanks as she was hesitating if she should tell me or not. In response Shanks told her that he would explain to me. Once she left the room, he told me what had happened and since then he hasn’t stopped screaming.

 “How stupid you are? Explain? How could you take a drink from some stranger then on top of it leave with him?” Shanks yelled. The room filled up with silence. “Answer!” I twitched when he screamed at the top of his lungs. I was in a state of shock as it was still hard for me to process what had happened. My bottom lip trembled, and my eyes were filled up with tears. I have never seen Shanks this mad, neither he has ever raised his voice at me like this. The only thing I had my eyes focused on were my trembling fingers with which I was nervously playing with in my lap.

“Answer.” He said once again, but at least this time he wasn’t screaming, but his voice was still sharp. I couldn’t withhold the tears anymore and they started falling from my eyes. I lowered my head even more as I tried to hide my face with my hair, ashamed of what had happened. Ashamed and afraid.

“I-I... S-Shanks... I-I’m so-sorry...” I couldn’t find my voice. Everything came out as a whispered. “I d-don’t want to t-talk about i-it now... please...” I begged him as a sob left my lips.

“Oh no, we are going to talk about this now.” He said, walking back and forth around the room. “You had no idea, how lucky you got that you ended up in the hospital, rather than God’s know where.”

“I-I’m realising t-this Shanks. I g-guess the security a-acted fast.” I quietly said in between sobs.

“Oh, did I forgot to mention. No, no Foxy.” He stared to laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laughter. His laughter was mocking and full of rage. “The fucking security didn’t do shit, and this is something that I will personally take with the club owners.” I raised my head a bit, still hiding my face with my hair I glanced at Shanks. If it wasn’t the security, then who safe me?

“W-who was it t-then?”

“Your Romeo, who else.” Shanks chuckled mockingly. “I own Ace a big time now.” He murmured but I heard him. My heart skipped a beat. Ace saved me? But how? Panic took over my body again from the fact that I couldn’t remember anything that happened. Shanks started to fuss again but I didn’t pay him much attention this time, last thing I needed right now was this. “I told your father as well.” I snapped out of my thoughts the moment I heard Shanks saying this.

“Why did you do this Shanks?” I cried. The thought of my dad waking up to such news broke my heart. I didn’t want him to worry about me and to know that such thing had happened to me.

“Because he is your father, and he must know how stupid his daughter is.” Shanks spat, pulling his red hair frustrated. “God, I hope my kid is not as stup-“ He got interrupted by the door opening. It was Ace standing at the door. He looked at Shanks first then he moved his eyes to me. I lowered my head again not wanting him to see me in such state.

“Shanks why don’t you go out for a bit? I think you need some fresh air.” Ace held the door open and nodded to Shanks to get out of the room.

“Ace be careful with the tone.” Shanks pointed his finger at Ace warning him.

“Or what Shanks?” Ace crossed his arms in front of his chest, his posture straightened. He wasn’t afraid of Shanks, but he also knew that Shanks wasn’t going to do anything.

“I’m not done with her. She has a lot of questions to answer.” Shanks turned his piercing glance towards me. I didn’t dare to look towards neither of them.

“Sure, but I doubt this is what she needs right now.” Ace’s voice was stern yet protective. Shanks breathed out loudly.

“I will be back in ten minutes and you better start talking when I get back.” He pointed his finger at me this time before storming out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. I winced at the sound of it. Neither Ace nor I said anything at first. My head was still lowered, not daring to lift it up and look at him. He grabbed a chair and placed it next to the hospital bed and took seat on it. His fingers grabbed my chin gently and lift my head making me look at him. My chest rose and fell quickly as I looked into his eyes. I bit on my trembling lip hard as I tried to not let out any sobs, but the tears escaped my eyes. Without saying anything Ace just pulled me closer to him and wrapped me in his arms. The sob that I was holding escaped my mouth the moment I buried my head in the crook of his neck. I wrapped my arms around him holding on tight for dear life.

“It’s okay, doll.” He cooed in my ear. “You’re safe. I’m here.” Ace whispered the last part. He was gently rubbing circles on my back with one of his hands while with the other he was running his fingers through my hair. I was not sure how long we stayed like this, but he held me until I pulled away from him first. I sniffed and swallowed hard before I could find my voice to speak up.

“Aren’t you mad at me like Shanks is?” My voice was barely audible. I thought I had no more tears left to cry, but one escaped the corner of my eye.

“Oh, I am.” Ace said. He reached with his hand and whipped the tear away with his thumb. I lowered my head again, not wanting to look at his eyes and see the same disappointment Shanks had. He lifted my chin up and made me look at him again. “But I’m more pissed at your friends for not looking after you.” His voice was soft, but his face was stern.

“I’m not a child. They are not responsible for my safety nor my mistakes.” I said and Ace just sighed and let go of my face. He shook his head and closed his eyes rubbing his temples. “Don’t be mad at them I beg you.” I carefully reached out and placed my hand on top of his squeezing it, making him look at me again. His nostrils flared as he inhaled and exhaled before he gave me a stern look.

“Promise you will never ever, no matter the circumstances, accept anything, not just drinks, I mean anything from strangers, especially men.” I have never heard or seen Ace being so serious about something as he was now. I swallowed hard and nodded, lowering my gaze. “Look at me and say it.” His voice became low and warning.

“I-I promise.” I breathed out. He nodded with a huffed, looking away from me. I eyed him and just now noticed how tired and tensed his body posture was. Dark circles were placed under his eyes, which meant he hasn’t slept at all. I looked around the hospital room for a clock. My eyes landed on one placed by the door. It was almost one pm. How long have I been out exactly? Salience took over the room once again, but this time I was the one to break it. “Thank you.” I whispered. Ace tilted his head at me and slightly nodded. “How... how did you find me... like... last thing I remember is being by the bar with...with...” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Chills ran down my back when I remembered the guy’s face from last night. I should have trusted my guts and tell him to fuck off. My breath quickened as I started trembling and Ace noticed it.

“Calm down. Don’t think about it.” He was quick to reassure me. “I went looking for you, as no one had seen you for a while. Just before you went out of the club, I saw your skirt and ran after you.” His jaw clenched and his eyes darkened. Something was running through his mind, and I wasn’t sure what it was.

“W-what h-happened to the g-guy?” My voice trembled with fear. A puff of air escaped Ace’s nose in a makeshift laugh.

“You don’t need to worry about it, doll. He has been taken care off.” He moved a strand of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. I gave him a doubtful look.

“What do you mean he has been taken care off? Did the police lock him?”

“Yeah. As I said, don’t worry, you are safe.” Ace gave me a smile, but something in this smile wasn’t sincere. But I wasn’t stupid, and I knew it was pointless to try to get any information from him or Shanks, because if they have sat their minds on not telling me then no matter how much questions I asked I would receive no answer.

“I’m sorry if I destroyed your big night...” I nibbled on my bottom lip. The guilt was written all over my face. “I hope you won’t get in trouble because of me.”

“Didn’t destroy anything and you don’t need to worry about me.” He said as he got up from the chair and ruffled my hair. “I think they will let you go home later today, so if you need something call or text me, okay?” I frowned when I realised he was going to leave now. I didn’t want him to leave. Not yet at least. Having Ace around felt safer than Shanks, mostly because I knew he wouldn’t let Shanks scream at me and right now all I needed was some peace and quiet.

“A-are you l-leaving?” I looked at him from under my lashes as I played nervously with my fingers. Ace was clearly taken aback from my question, which surprised me. He placed a hand on the nape of his neck and gave me an awkward chuckle.

“I, um yeah. Do you want me to stay longer?”

“No.” I shook my head fast. “I-I... No. You have done more than I could ever ask for. Thank you, Ace. I-I... I own you a big time.” I didn’t want him to stay longer, I needed him to do so, but I could see that he was tired and the tension between him and Shanks was visible. He had really done more for me than I could ask for – he did safe my life, as no one knew what that guy could have done to me.

“You don’t own me anything.” Ace half smiled at me and before he left, he stopped for a second and looked over his shoulder at me. “Take care, doll.” He told me before he closed the door behind himself.

********

It has been a week and some days since the ‘accident’ happened. My phone was blowing after I got out of the hospital. Nami even called me crying and I had to reassure her that I was fine, and it wasn’t her fault. The only thing I requested from everyone were two things: first – no one at our university must find out about what happened as I didn’t want people coming at me and asking me questions and whatsoever, and second for some piece and quiet. Then I had to face my dad, which was the hardest conversation I had with him in a while. He had come here the day after I came back from the hospital. The conversation was long and very emotional, but at least he wasn’t as harsh as Shanks was, and it was nice to have him so close to me again. Speaking of Shanks, he had calmed down, but at the same time I understood where his frustration came from, and I knew that he reacted this way out of love and care for me. My father and Shanks were checking on me everyday to a point where they were becoming a little annoying, but again probably if I were on their place I would have done the same. I was spending most of my days with my father, catching up with him for the time we had spent apart. He was staying over at Shanks place, so it was only at night when I was alone. That was when I would get triggered, but I wasn’t entirely alone. There was always this one person who was checking on me daily, especially at night before I went to sleep. Ace was texting me everyday to check how I was doing or if I was in need anything. Every time my phone would vibrate, I was hoping it was a message from him and when it was my heart would skip a beat, and the smile was immediately on my face. Which was so hard to control especially when my father was around, but I couldn’t stop it no matter how hard I tired.

It was already ten something pm and I was getting ready to go to bed, as tomorrow I planned to go to my last lectures for this year. Even though part of me still wanted to be home alone, I knew that I had to go out and continue with my life. The worst didn’t happen, so I had to be grateful and continue. I was brushing my teeth when my phone vibrated. The smile on my face couldn’t be stopped as I saw from who the message was from. I cleaned my teeth and face fast and grabbed my phone as I unlocked it when I jumped on my bed.

‘Wanna grab coffee after your classes tomorrow?’ I bit on my bottom lip as I started to write a response to his message. I wrote ‘it’s a date ;)’ but just before I sent it, I realised that Ace didn’t mean it at all to be a date, so I quickly deleted the message.

“‘Our spot?’ Yes, this one sounded better.” I said to myself as I pressed sent and waited for his response.

‘Yea, you can call it that I guess.’ before I could respond he sent me another message. ‘What time you be finishing?’

We texted back and forth for good forty something minutes before we said goodnight. Putting my phone away to charge, I exhaled deeply. I couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow. I covered my face with the palms of my hands as I felt blood rushing all over my cheeks. This man was making it very hard to be just his friend.

“Fucking Ace.” I said to myself giggling.

********

The lectures finished just on time, and I packed my stuffs as fast as possible. Classmates and professors were exchanging wishes and so on for Christmas, but I didn’t pay them much attention.

“Why are you in such big hurry?” Nami looked at me curiously. I gave her an awkward smile as I tired to come up with excuse because I couldn’t tell her that I was meeting with Ace in less than thirty minutes.

“I... you know... kinda wanna go home as fast as possible, because... you know...” Making an excuse with what happened was the worst thing I could have come up with, but right now I couldn’t think of anything else. Nami sadly frowned. She was still feeling guilty for what happened. I quickly went to her and pulled her in a hug.

“Please, stop. It wasn’t your fault at all. If anyone is to blame, it’s me for being so reckless.” I tried my best to reassure her, because it was my fault for accepting the drink instead of telling the guy to leave me alone.

“No don’t blame yourself. The only person to blame is that asshole who did this to you. Thanks God that the security acted on time.” I looked at Nami confused. What did she mean by this? It wasn’t the security that stopped the guy, it was Ace. “Are you really sure that you are, okay?” Nami pulled away and observed my face carefully.

“Yes, I am okay I promise... just...” I paused for a moment. “Nami it wasn’t the security who stopped him, it was Ace.” I chuckled, still looking at her with confusion.  

“What? But Luffy and Zoro told me different story. Are you sure?” Confusion crossed her face as well.

“Pretty, sure. Maybe they just didn’t want to worry you more you know.” I shrugged. This was the only logical explanation behind it.

“Yes, you are right, but still strange.” She shook her head and looked at me with care and worry. “But if there is something or someone you need, please let me know.” She said as I squeezed her shoulders and nodded reassuring her that if I needed something I would let her know. “I know you are not coming to the party tonight, but we will see each other during the break, right?”

“Of course we will. My dad is leaving on the twenty-eight so after it I’m all free.” I gave her a big smile. We bit each other goodbye, and I quickly left the lectures room.

I was walking fast towards the exit. My heart was beating faster knowing that I was meeting Ace in just a few minutes. Just when I was pushing the door to exit our programs building, I heard my name being called. I turned around and I was met with no one else but Dave.

“Hey Dave.” I smiled at him. He took me by surprise when he wrapped his arms around me in a strong hug. I was not only surprised but confused as well. I slowly raised my hands and patted his back. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m the one who should ask you this. Nami told me what happened to you, and I wanted to reach you out and see you, but she told me you wanted to be left alone, so I didn’t dare to bother you.” He blurted out super fast I almost didn’t catch what he said. I mentally cursed Nami, I asked her specifically to not tell a single soul and of course of all people she told Dave. “Also please don’t get mad at her. She only told me because I was worried about you, and you weren’t here and you also didn’t respond to any of my messages and I thought at first that you are mad at me or something.” He finally pulled away from me and I was able to breath. His eyes and whole face were full of worry and concern. 

“I-I... oh Dave...” I felt so bad. He had texted me so many times during this week and I kept ignoring his messages and it wasn’t even on purpose. “Look Dave, I’m fine. I promise you I’m all good as long as I don’t think or speak about it. So, please don’t worry about me.” I patted him on the shoulder and gave him another smile as I was hoping that this would calm him for now. “And I’m so sorry for ignoring your messages I just wanted to be left alone... I-I hope you understand.”

“Please, if you need something let me know.” He pulled me once again for a hug and this time I wrapped my arms around him too.

“I’m sorry again for not responding.” I said as we pulled apart. “I didn’t do it purposely hope you know this. But I must go now, we will catch some other time.”

“Do you want me to walk with you? I have time.” He opened the door for me and the cold air hit my face when we stepped outside.

“No, it’s okay, thank you again.” I said with a smile. Dave was a very nice guy, and I really appreciated his efforts and wants to be of help for me. “We should catch up sometime.”

“Actually... I wanted to ask you something.” His smile grew and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I know how much you love ‘Interstellar’ and there is this special screening at the cinema next to my place the end of the month and... you know...” He awkwardly chuckled. “I was wondering if you would like to go with me and... yeah watch the movie.” His brows raised, expecting my answer.

“Sure, yeah this would be fantastic.” I nodded eagerly. “When is it?”

“It’s on twenty-ninth.”

“Perfect, then text me more details and we will go.” I waved him goodbye and left before he had the chance to say something more.

********

The coffee shop was fifteen minutes away, so I fasten my pace as much as I could while trying to keep my balance due to the frozen patches on the sideways. The smile on my face was growing bigger with every passing second. I just couldn’t wait to finally see him. The bubble of excitement was growing in my stomach. A part of me was also nervous as last time we properly saw each other was when I stayed over at his place. I didn’t count the club or the hospital. I was crossing the street when I saw his tall figure. He was in front of the coffee shop, smoking a cigarette. His orange beany that I loved was placed on top of his messy raven black hair. He was dressed pretty casually, a dark grey jacket which seemed pretty light for the temperatures outside and some dark blue jeans. Ace had his phone in his other hand, so it seemed like he didn’t notice me. I mischievously smiled when I carefully sneaked behind him, trying my best go unnoticed. He took one last drag from his cigarette and threw it in the bin beside him. I took this as my opportunity. Now it was the best time to surprise attack him but as I ran, I didn’t notice that there was an icy patch, and I slipped. I fall on my butt and a loud squawked escaped my lips. Ace quickly turned around and when he saw me on the ground, he bust out laughing.

“It’s not funny.” I pouted and tried to stand but it was too slippery under me.

“Yea, it’s hilarious. Did you hurt yourself?” He continued to laugh as he reached his hand offering me his help. I grabbed it with a groan and he pulled me up like I weighted nothing. I was starting to wonder how strong Ace was actually. I patted my butt as some snow got on my coat. I looked up and I was met with his charming smile. “Hey, doll.” He pinched my cheek. A shy smile formed on my face as I bit on my bottom lip.

“Hey, Ace.” I quietly said. He laughed once again and nodded towards the cafe, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led us in. My breath got caught up in my lungs, not only because I was so close to him, but because I didn’t expect such closure from him. Once again Ace was full of surprises when it came to his behaviour. Sometimes he was cold and distant, not in the mood at all, and sometimes like now he was, well he was in a good mood. Once inside we went straight to the coffee counter. I haven’t been here for almost a month. The whole place was decorated with Christmas lights and decorations, making it even cozier. It was busy but not so much so there were plenty of seats. Still with his hand around my shoulders Ace leaned closer to me.

“What would you like, doll?” His voice was low and deep as his breath hit the skin around my ear. I tilted my head to have a better look at him without realising how close our faces were. Shivers ran down my spine. In the past few days, the idea of having someone so close to me was terrifying, even today when Dave hugged me it felt somehow alarming. But having Ace so close, didn’t feel this way, it felt nice and safe. Yes, it did make me nervous, but not for the same reasons if it was somebody else. “Cat got your tongue?” He clicked with his tongue as his smirk started growing. I pulled my head slightly away from him and playfully rolled my eyes.

“I will get a tea.” I returned the smirk. He lightly nodded and pulled away from me, removing his hand from my shoulders as it was our turn to order.

“What flavour you want?” He handed me their special seasonal tea menu. I took a quick look at it and pointed at the one I wanted. “Have you eaten? Do you want something to eat?”

“No, I haven’t, but I’m not hungry.” I said with a half smile. My appetite was very low these days, and I have skipped a lot of meals.

“Sorry, could you please give us a second.” Ace politely said to the barista girl, and she nodded. “When did you last eat?” He turned to me and looked at me seriously.

“Geez, Ace don’t act like me dad now. I ate when I ate, please let’s just order the drinks.” I protested. Ace huffed and turned again to the barista.

“Yea, so the tea, one black coffee and could you please add one BLT sandwich. Thanks.” Before I could say anything, he had already paid. The girl behind the counter said that she would come with the order, which was odd due to the fact that they didn’t serve on the tables here, but I guessed it had to do with Ace’s charming smile. We went to sit at the back of the cafe on one of the small tables there. Walking behind him, I was frowning. Did he ever listen to me? Before we sat down, we both took off our jackets. While I had a thick sweater under my coat, Ace was with a short sleeve t-shirt.

“Aren’t you freezing?” I asked him, my brows frowned as I was a little pissed at him.

“No, I feel pretty hot actually.” He said and sat down. “Till this day Dadan tells me that my blood is probably made of fire, because I always feel hot.” I couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped my lips as I sat opposite of him. Still, I crossed my arms in front of my chest and gave him an annoyed look. “What?” Ace snorted.

“What?” I spat raising my brows. “Could you please stop manhandling me? I told you I wasn’t hungry. And what if I don’t like it?”

“Oh doll, I promise you if you think this is manhandling, I will manhandle you for real and then you will be begging me for more.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a small smirk as he saw the way I froze from his response. I opened and closed my mouth, but nothing came out. Thankfully the barista came with our order. Ace thanked her without moving his gaze from me. He breathed out and gave me a pleading look. “Eat, please. You told me yourself you are barley eating these days.” I have forgotten that I’ve shared this with him, but still, he should have listened to me. “I didn’t manhandle you, okay? I just want to make sure you are taking care of yourself.” He reached and placed his hand on top of mine. His aunt wasn’t wrong when she told him that he was made of fire. His hand was so much warmer on top of mine. He took it and ran his thumb across my knuckles. “I’ve promised you to not push you to talk about it, but please at least take care of yourself.” I inhaled and exhaled deeply before I nodded and pulled my hand away from his.

“Can you at least help me with it, as it’s quite big.” I said as I grabbed the sandwich, which did look very tasty, and was cut in two halves and handed him one half of it. He pushed my hand back and chuckled.

“How about you eat as much as you can first and then if you can’t finish it, I will help you?” I decided to not argue with him and just nodded taking a bite of the sandwich. It was as tasty as it looked. Ace laughed at me as he saw my eyes widen from the taste of it. “You see, doll? I know what you like.” He propped his chin on his hand giving me a cheeky half smile.

“So what else are you up to this week except rehearsing with the guys?” I asked taking another bite of the food.

“Why you wanna take me out or something?” He said sarcastically, before he held his coffee mug to his lips, taking a sip of it. I knew he was messing with me, but still his response got me blushing.

“Hell no.” I rolled my eyes. “Just curious about your schedule.” I said lifting my shoulder in a half shrug. Ace leaned on the back of the chair and crossed his ankles as he took another sip of his coffee.

“Hm, I have something in mind, but I’m not entirely sure if I will do it, yet. Anyway, wanna come over this Sunday, you have a movie to show me.”

“Why on Sunday?” I raised my eyebrow teasingly. “Why not Friday or Saturday?”

“I’m busy.” His mouth twitched. He was up to something.

“Busy with what?” I squinted my eyes playfully leaning closer to the table.

“It’s a secret.” He leaned in closer, too.

“You have secrets from me now?” I mockingly pouted. He mocked my pout, and I couldn’t withhold the giggle that escaped my lips. I finished with one half of sandwich and pushed the plate with the rest towards him. “I’m full. Thank you for the meal.” I grabbed the still warm tea mug and placed it to my lips, blowing it before I took a sip. The tea was spicy and sweet – a mixture of cinnamon, gingerbread cookie and orange. “Mmm, you have to try this.” I stretched my hands across the small table and nodded my head to Ace to try it. He took the teacup from me and took a sip of the tea. Placing the mug back in front of me, his face scrunched at the taste of it. “You didn’t like it?” My head tilted a bit in surprised as I thought he would most certainly like it. He shook his head.

“I like that it’s spicy, but it’s too sweet.” His mouth twisted as he shrugged. “I’m not really into sweet treats, doll.” Ace gave me a wink.

“Oh, so you are not into me, I see...” I raised the tea with both of my hands covering almost my entire face but my eyes as I wiggled my eyebrows playfully. The confidence that took over me came out of nowhere, which cause my whole face to flush, even Ace raised his brows in surprise. My gaze wasn’t leaving his as he let out a boyish laugher at my comment.

“Nah, doll. Too sweet for my taste.” He said placing his elbows on top of the table and leaning closer to me. I took a sip of the tea and placed the mug back on the table, leaning forward mimicking his position. Our faces were close but not close enough for it to seemed too intimate. We were just looking at each other with teasing looks in our eyes. I tilted my head bit before giving him a sweet smile.

“Don’t worry Ace, it’s mutual.” I winked at him. A short exhale of breath escaped his lips reminiscent of laugh.

“Good.” He said nodding with a smirk as he pulled away without breaking eye contact.

“Why don’t you come over and we watch it at my place instead?” This wasn’t the first time I have invited him over. While I stayed at home for this week and a half, I invited him at least three times and he always brushed me off.

“Okay.”

“Okay? Really?” I didn’t expect this response. I thought he would cut me off again.

“Yea, sure. But I will come late probably, keep this in mind.” He fixed his beany a bit, but his messy curls were still poking from all directions. I would lie if I said that I didn’t want to bury my fingers in his dark locks. His hair was so soft in a way I was yearning to get the chance to play with it again. My fingers still remembering the feeling of when he had let me run them through it while we were high. I was very aware of my physical attraction towards him, there were some feelings that were present, but I had to supress them for the sake of our so called ‘friendship’. Ace pulled me out of my trance state as he called my name. “High up in the clouts?” He chuckled.

“Yes. Quite high.” I breathed out.

********

“So how are things now with Robin?” Ace asked Law without looking at him. He was too focused on the paper in front of him. It was Friday night, almost past eleven pm. Deuce and Sabo had already gone home after a long day of rehearsing and writing, it was only him and Law left in the studio. Law was taking a little break as his mind was going to explode. They had locked themself in the studio since the morning. Taking a sip of his water Law observed Ace. His postured was hunched and he looked extremely tired. Since they have announced that they will be realising an album Ace was the one who had pushed them to work even harder now.

“Things are going pretty well. We are even celebrating Christmas together.” Law responded. Ace whistled when he heard his friend response.

“You are seriously cuffed m-” Ace got interrupted as his phone lighted up indicating he had received a message. His mouth twitched upwards as he saw who had texted him, which didn’t go unnoticed by Law.

“Mhm, I’m definitely the cuffed one.” A make shifted laughter escaped Law’s nose. “How’s (Y/N)?”

“Better now.” Ace replied as he was typing something on his phone. “Here look at these lyrics! You think they will match the verse you wrote?” Without moving his eyes from his phone Ace handed Law the piece of paper he was focused on before his phone distracted him. Law grabbed the paper and observed the lyrics.

Touch me, yeah I want you to touch me there Make me feel like I am breathing Feel like I am human

Law hummed once he read the lyrics. They were going to do good as a chorus. His eyes moved back to his dear friend. He had never seen Ace like this, and the worst part was that Ace was denying it. Ace was still keening on the idea that he was only sexually attracted to (Y/N), and what he was feeling was just nothing more than sexual desire. Yet, if Ace could get a glimpse of himself when he was texting her or just when he was around her, he would probably not recognise himself. Law wasn’t stupid he was very aware of who was Ace texting right now. He also knew what had happened and saw for himself how tensed Ace was the first few days after the accident. And now on top of it these lyrics, which were clearly written for (Y/N). Ace finally put his phone away and looked at Law. Even thought he was obviously exhausted his mood has increased drastically.

“What do you think?” Ace asked, his foot tapping nervously on the floor.

“I think they will do very good as catchy chorus.” Law handed him back the paper. “Also, I already have an idea for the second verse.” He grabbed a new piece of paper and started writing down.

“Don’t you think they are a little cringe?” Ace scrunched his face as he repeated the lyrics in his mind.

“You do sound like a horny virgin.” Saying this Law received a flying paper ball towards his head, but he ducked, and it missed him. Both shared a laugher as Law reached with his hand towards Ace and handed him the piece of paper where he wrote down the second verse.

Dancing through the night A vodka and a Sprite A glimpse of her silhouette A night that they'd never forget

“Do you have any melody in mind for this?” Ace asked, grabbing his guitar and propping it on his right knee. Law grabbed his as well and started to play around with some chords. Ace hummed and tapped with his fingers on his guitar before he followed Law.

“Do you wanna record it and mess around with it more tomorrow?” Law looked up at Ace. Both were quite exhausted, but they could handle one more hour of work.

“Yea, we can do this just so we can work more on it this weekend.” Ace got up and grabbed one of the microphones in the studio adjusting it closer to him as he sat back down. It didn’t take them more than an hour to record an acoustic version of the song. It wasn’t the best but it was far away from the final result of the song.

“Are you going to Robin’s place?” Ace asked as he took a puff of his cigarette. Law and he decided to take a quick smoke before they say goodbye.

“Nah, she is already asleep, plus we start early tomorrow.” He replied before a smirked formed on his face. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Ace raised his brow.

“Come on, bro. What’s going on with (Y/N)?” Law whined, he knew Ace was fully aware what he was asking him.

 “Well...” Ace took another drag of his cigarette. This was a good question – what was going between him and (Y/N). The lust for her was still there, but the more he was getting to know her the more it was growing. But it wasn’t only the sexual desire growing. There were guilt, shame and confusion on the back of his mind. Guilt because he didn’t want to destroy whatever they had going on but also, he couldn’t put aside the thoughts he had for her. Ot top of it he wasn’t blind or stupid. He could clearly see how she would blush or the way her breath would hitch the moment he complimented her or when he made more bold comment, or how she was always nervous around him. Ace also found it super adorable how sleek she thought she was being every time she would shyly check him out. There was also shame – the shame for his thoughts, his actions at times and mostly of Ace being Ace. The shame of who he was and knowing that he might bring this shame upon her was eating him alive from the inside. But more than everything Ace was confused. Confused because the more he was trying to distance himself from her the more he was yearning for her presence. The way he was craving their small meaningless talks along with the deeper ones. The desire to wrap his arms around her and kiss her slowly but passionate until they both run out of breath, but not in a hungry lustful way just a burning sensual kiss. At this point it was taking all his willpower every time their faces were inches apart to pull her closer and say, ‘fuck this’ and get lost in the feeling. And this weird obsession of being able to protect her from any harm. But no – he couldn’t do this to her, not to (Y/N). Yet, he had never felt this way, this desire towards any girl. The only logical explanation was the fact that he had told himself that he couldn’t have her. Yes, this was it. The answer to all his guilt, shame and confusion was because for a first time ever he couldn’t have a girl he wanted. It was all because he put a limit to himself. Law snapped his finger in front of Ace’s face, and he snapped back to reality. “Shit sorry man... um yeah (Y/N)... nothing, just friends.”

“Again the ‘friends’ bullshit?” Law snorted and rolled his eyes at Ace. He threw his cigarette on the ground and tapped Ace on the shoulder two times. “At least be honest with yourself if you want to keep lying to others.” Law didn’t wait for his response and just left. His words stuck something deep within Ace.

“Fuck off, Law.” Ace screamed after his friend to which Law responded with raising his hand up in the air and showing Ace the middle finger. Rolling his eyes Ace threw away his cigarette and grabbed his helmet. He got on his motorcycle and headed home. On the way there he couldn���t stop thinking about what Law had said to him. Ace was honest with himself, after all he wasn’t a kid. He was a grown up and he knew where his feelings stood, and they were nowhere near (Y/N). All he felt towards her was pure lust only because he had limited himself. If he had had his way with her already, she would have been long time forgotten. But now he was stuck in a friendship with her. Not like he didn’t enjoy it, quite the opposite. He really liked spending time with her, it was the fact that he was acting like a horny teenager when it came to her, but he was sure that it was going to go away soon. Maybe the whole protective and caring behaviour towards her was because he was Luffy’s age. Yes, this was it – lust because he couldn’t sleep with her and the overly protective obsession was from the fact that she was the same age as his little brother was.

*******

Sunday came faster than expected. Ace and the rest of the guys were stuck in the studio the entire day. They even called Usopp to help them with producing and final touches for the song. After two long days the song was done. Everyone high-fived and cheered once they finished the record.

“Song number one is done.” Deuce cheered loudly standing behind Ace and grabbing his shoulders shaking him.

“Easy there, Deuce.” Ace laughed at his friend enthusiasm. “Just because we recorded a song it doesn’t mean it will end up on the album.”

“What? This song is getting on the album. The chorus are extremely catchy, so this song is on.” Deuce nudged his sides and Ace whined.

“It can make it to the album, but it won’t be a single, that is for sure.” Law called after Deuce.

“Oh, my big bro killed it with the vocals again.” Sabo jumped on Ace’s back almost knocking them both on the ground. Ace was quick to grunt him. They all sat down – some on the spinning chairs others on the couch, exhaustion written all over their faces.

“How’s uni going Usopp?” Ace was the first one to break the silence as he had propped himself on the couch with one hand on the back of it.

“Good, but I’m so happy we finally got some break.” Usopp answer and turned to face Ace as he was saving some files until now. “How is lif-” He got interrupted as his phone vibrated. “Hell, yeah.” Usopp raised his hands in the air as he screamed like his favourite football team scored a goal in the last second. Everyone gave him a questioning look.

“Care to share the news?” Sabo snorted.

“You guys remember Dave?” Everyone nodded except Ace, he didn’t like where this was going just by the guy’s name being mentioned. “So, my boy is head over heels (Y/N), and I told him to make a move finally and apparently he asked her this Wednesday and she agreed to go out with him and now he texted me that he set his mind on confessing to her.” Sabo and Deuce cheered among with Usopp, while Law glanced at Ace and his face was unreadable like a stone. Meanwhile Ace mind was running wild. (Y/N) didn’t say anything about a ‘date’ with anyone last Wednesday when they saw each other. Was she even into this dude? Speaking of (Y/N) he was supposed to go to her place tonight and watch her short movie, which he had totally forgot about and just now it crossed his mind. Ace got up fast and pulled his phone looking at the time. It was still nine pm, so he had some time to catch up with her.

“What is the hurry?” Sab looked at his brother suspiciously.

“I remembered I have some shit at home I must take care of.” Ace said putting on his leather jacket on.

“You won’t be joining us for a beer?” Deuce frowned his brows as he pushed his thick black glass frames.

“Not tonight guys. Usopp thanks for the help, man.” Ace half waved at them and left the studio as fast as possible. Before he got on his motorbike, he texted her a quick message that he was on his way to her place.  

Ace felt his whole body tensing up, on top of it every red light was catching him. His mind went back to what Usopp said. (Y/N) didn’t mention anything like this at all not even when they were texting. But maybe it was a good. If she gets herself a boyfriend, then there would be even better reason for Ace to stay away from her. After twenty minutes which felt like eternity he parked in front of her building. He pulled up his phone to text her to give him the door code, but his eyes widen at the message he had received from her a little after he had texted that he was on his way.

‘The door code is 7744... also my dad is here, and he said ‘I’m not leaving until I meet him’... hope you don’t mind >.<’ Ace cursed under his breath. Why did her father want to meet him? If he had seen the message earlier, he would have at least more time to prepare for it. He took a deep breath and for a moment hesitated if he should smoke a quick cigarette before heading upstairs but instead cursed once more and made his way to (Y/N)’s apartment.

********

“Dad please, leave.” I was begging him even before Ace texted me that he was on his way. “I can tell him that you are grateful for what he did that night.”

“Baby girl, no.” My father brushed me off again. “As a father and as a man I must thanked the man who saved my daughter.” Like the diva my father was he brushed his long ponytail on the side.

“You are such a diva.” I whined and checked my phone to see if Ace had responded but I had nothing. He hasn’t even seen the message. I just hope that he would show up. We stayed in silence until I heard the doorbell ring. Before I could react, my dad was already at the door. “No, dad wait.” I called after him, but it was too late. The giggle that escaped my lips couldn’t be stopped especially when I saw Ace’s reaction once the door opened. He got taken aback and blush spread across his cheeks as my father greeted him.

“Come on in young man.” Dad moved to the side and waved his hand to Ace to get in. Ace slightly nodded and got inside.

“Hey.” I softly said as I reached with my hand to take his jacket. He mouthed a quick hello back as he was taking his boots off. Once he straitened his posture my dad patted him on the back and led him inside. I bit on my lip, holding on the chuckled that wanted to escape my lips at the sight of them. Ace was so much taller than my father so the sight on my dad short form pushing him around was just hilarious to look at. They sat on the couch and my dad grabbed Ace’s right hand and shook it firmly.

“Where are my manners? Buggy, nice to meet you Ace, I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” My father patted Ace’s shoulder as he let go of his hand. I sat on the ground and scrunched my faced from embarrassment as I heard what my father said.

“N-nice to meet you as well, sir.” Ace chuckled and glanced at me. The confusion in his eyes was so easy to read. I just shrugged as I couldn’t do anything to help him right now.

“I want to personally thank you for saving my daughter.” Dad’s voice got serious and stern. “Shanks and I own you a big time, because I don’t want to think what would have happened to my precious baby girl if you haven’t interfered on time.”

“Sir plea-” My dad was quick to correct Ace to call him by his name. “Buggy, okay.” Ace chuckled. “You own me nothing, I did what I had to do.”

“Ah, so modest.” Dad dramatically gripped his t-shirt in a fist where his heart was, and I rolled my eyes.

“Now this is his usual behaviour.” I said to Ace, and he laughed.

“She always has a comment to make towards my behaviour.” Dad nudged Ace with his elbow.

“Actually, me and my brothers are big fans of your comedy.” Ace turned to my dad with a charming smile.

“Oh dear, my heart is going to explode. But I’m a fan of your band, too.”

“No way, you are kidding me.” Ace’s brows raised in surprised, and his eyes lit with happiness. He looked at me in a way to confirm if my father was messing up with him or not.

“He is a fan, Ace.” I nodded with a smile.

“Damn... honestly if my brothers know that I’ve met you they would be so jealous.” Ace laughed in disbelief.

“Not to flex but I am a singer myself.” My dad stuck his nose in the air. Before I could say something, my dad started to sing and all I wanted in this moment was for the ground to open and swallow me whole. He might have been a very good comedian, but the same couldn’t be said for his singing.

“Dad, dad.” I called interrupting him. “I think Ace got it that you are vocally gifted, no need for more.”

“If you need a back singer, you could always call me.” He winked at Ace and who started to laugh. One thing about Ace that I adored was the fact that when he was truly feeling a certain way his whole body was showing it. Like right now, his boyish laugher filled up the room while his shoulders and stomach muscles were flexing. His smile was reaching his eyes, and I took a mental picture of this moment in my mind.

“I would definitely make this phone call Buggy.” Ace said once his laugher calmed.

“Talking about singing, have you heard my daughter singing?” Dad turned to me; his eyes filled with mischievous.

“Never.” Ace turned his attention to me as well.

“And you won’t.” I was quick to say.

“Ace, buddy – imagine this.” Dad wrapped his arm around Ace broad shoulders and started to paint a picture with his other hand. “Imagine a deaf person who gets their hearing back and then they hear my daughter sing. Tears start to fall from their eyes, but not from the beauty of her voice but because they are wishing to turn back time and never hear a sound again.” Ace looked at me and his face scrunched as he shook his head.

“Poor deaf person.” He said as he winked at me.

“Hey, I sing bad but not this bad.” I was quick to defend myself.

“You know when she was around four years old, she found an ukulele.” I covered my face with the palms of my hands as I could easily die from embarrassment knowing which story my father was about to tell him. “She then proceeded lock me in her bedroom and until she was done with the three hour performance which mind you ended with the words ‘daddy I think I’m going to shit myself’ I had to endure- ” I was quick to interrupt him as Ace heard enough. Ace on the other hand, had his head back as he was laughing hard while holding on his stomach.

“Dad... I think it’s time for you to leave.”  

“Oh, come on. You were adorable. Should I tell him your beans story from when you were nineteen.” My dad wanted to die tonight.

“Okay, that was enough.” I got up on my feet and went to grab my father to leave. Him and Ace tried to protest but dad got the hint.

“Well, Ace it was a pleasure to meet you and again thank you.” He grabbed his hand again and shook it before he got up. My mouth set in a hard line as I shoot my eyes to the door making my dad leave faster. “Okay, okay I’m leaving, relax.” Dad quickly put his jacket and boots. Ace got up and got closer to me and my dad.

“It was nice to meet you as well Buggy, hopefully we get to meet some time again.” Ace said to my dad who was at the door. I was wrapped in a crushing hug by him, and he wasn’t letting me go.

“Oh, we are meeting again this is for sure.” Dad realised me from his grip and grabbed the door handle to open the door. Just before he closed it, he stopped and looked at me and Ace. “And don’t forget condoms, I’m too young to become a grandpa.” Before I could curse my father, he the shut the door closed and his loud laugher could be heard in the hallway of the building.

“I-I’m so, so s-sorry.” I turned back to Ace who had the same was holding his laughter. “He was kidding, and he is too much sometimes, like he is such a diva.” I raised my hands in the air as I passed by Ace to go and sit on the couch. He shook his head, and laugher left his lips.

“I think his advice was pretty good.” Ace smirked as he sat next to me, propping one hand on the back of the sofa. I leaned on his shoulder and tilted my head to have a better look at him.

“Ha-ha, you two should do a stand up together.” I said with a mocking tone.  

“Oh, someone is sassy tonight.” Ace lowered his head a bit which led to his face coming closer to mine.

“You just met the diva who raised me, is a little sass too much now?” I raised my brow and fluttered my eyelashes.

“You are never too much, doll.” He cupped my cheek with his free hand and caressed it. Even though my pulse has increased because of how intimate it felt to be this close to him, but at the same time it felt so right and natural. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way. My eyes drafted to his lips, his full and alluring lips. They curved in a little smile and moved. I moved my eyes back to his eyes and questionably hummed as I didn’t hear what he said. He smirked and whispered him my ear.

“As I recall we have a movie to watch.”

“Yes, right.” I breathed out and quickly got up from the couch. Clearing my throat, I looked around and saw my laptop laying on my bed. I sat on my bed and opened it. “Okay, found it. Come.” I patted my bed without realising how me inviting him to come and sit on my bed might come off as. I looked at him and tilted my head to the bed. “Ace, come.” He finally got up and crossed the room in just six steps and stood in front of my bed. I moved and positioned myself next to the wall as I leaned my body on the headboard. Ace did the same as me, but he kept some distance, and then it hit me.

“U-um if you feel m-more comfortable on the couch we can move there.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” He said and pointed with his chin towards the laptop to play the movie.

“Oh my, I forgot to ask you if you want something to drink?” I slapped my face and put the laptop on the side as I got up quickly.

“Water is fine.” He called after me. I filled up two glasses with water and while walking toward the bed I drank half of mine. Standing next to the bed I handed Ace his glass and he thanked me while taking a sip of it. We put the glasses on top of the nightstand next to the bed. I went to the edge of the bed and crawed on it, leaning on the headboard again. “Can I finally see the movie?” His eyelids slightly drooped as the corners of his mouth turned up. I hummed and grabbed the laptop pressing play. The movie was five minutes long, so it didn’t take much time to watched it. The moment it ended I turned my head to Ace all on pins and needles for his opinion on the movie. He slightly leaned closer to me and looked in my eyes. “That was cute. Not gonna lie, I was rooting for the guy to get the girl.”

“Really?” I smiled biting my lower lip. He nodded. “But did you like it?”

“Yea, as I said it was a cute movie.” He crossed his arms across his chest making his biceps flex a bit.

“But...? I can sense the ‘but’.” I poked his bicep with my finger. He chuckled and took a deep breath.

“Okay you got me. It was a cute short movie okay, but you could do way better than this.” He tilted his head a bit, taking a better look at my face. “But this doesn’t mean that the movie was bad, it means I know you can go way beyond this and kill it.” His voice was low but also soft. I put the laptop on the side and lowered my head.

“Ace... can... can I hug you?” I quietly asked not daring to look at him as my face was flaming hot. He opened his arms and pulled me in a hug. I buried my head in his muscular chest and took a deep breath inhaling the scent of his perfume. “Thank you.” I whispered and tightened my arms around him. He softly hummed in response. I looked up and I saw how he was fighting the fatigue which was mixture of his long day and narcolepsy. “Are you tired? You can stay here, and I can sleep on the couch.”

“No... yes actually I’m tired but I haven’t taken my pills in like four days as I ran out of them and it’s really hard to fight the sleep right now.” His right hand ran circles on my back while with his left he was rubbing his eyes with the back of it. As much as I didn’t want to, I pulled away from his arms but still stayed closer to his body.

“Did you finish the song?” My voice was soft as I tired to keep it low, he was obviously going to fall asleep any second now.

“Mhh, wanna heard it?” He shook his head as he tried to wake himself up. I nodded eagerly as he pulled his phone from this back pocket.

“What is it called?”

“A little death.” Ace handed me his phone and I pressed play. Focused on the song, I still saw how his head flopped on the side as sleep took over him and I couldn’t help but cooed to myself. To be honest I wasn’t sure if he was asleep or he had an episode but I let him be as I listened to the song.

Touch me, yeah I want you to touch me there Make me feel like I am breathing Feel like I am human

I wondered who wrote the song. Knowing Ace I doubt it was him, he had told me he wasn’t into writing ‘romantic’ songs, so it was either Sabo or Law. The song finished and I heard Ace sleepy and raspy voice.

“Did you lik- fuck.” His eyes rolled back as sleep took over him again. I giggled, he was adorable and now I knew for sure that it wasn’t just fatigue from the long hours in the studio in the past few days, but he was in fact having little episodes. Ace jerked awake in a few seconds. “Yeah, so you liked it?” He tried to stand but I extended my had and stopped him.

“I can’t wait for you guys to realise it officially.” My lips curved into a smile. “Also sleep, you can’t drive like this.”

“No, I’ll go home just... just...” And another episode. I sighed no matter how stubborn he was his narcolepsy was taking over his body. His whole body jerked as he woke up again. “Just give me a minute or so okay.”

“Ace let me woman handle you.” I said teasingly with a light tone, and he rolled his eyes at me with a snort. “Now get up and get under the covers.”

“I can sleep on the couch.” He protested as he sat up on my bed, but I didn’t let him get up as I extended my hand and placed it on his chest.

“Ace, just get under the covers.” I said, shooting a pointed glance towards the bed.

“I’m with outside clothes.” He got up and crossed his arms, giving me a smart look.

“I need to wash my sheets anyway. Or just take your clothes off I won’t look.” I huffed, he was so stubborn.

“Yea, bet.” He raised his brow and took a step closer to me. With a smug smirk on his face, he took off his t-shirt tossing it on the bed. I was face to face with his hard muscular chest. My mouth ran dry as I draw in sharp breath and moved my eyes away from his body. The sudden urge to clench my thighs as I felt heat rushing to my core was painful. But I couldn’t move as I didn’t want to give myself away. “Hm, yeah... woman handling me.” He teased licking his lower lip. I cleared my dry throat and slowly looked at his face giving all my willpower not to trace my gaze down on his body.

“Stop flashing your titts around.” I hissed but my voice trembled. “You can’t be serious that you are leaving and driving at this state.”

“The episodes will go away soon, no need to worry.” He shrugged as he reached and ruffled the top of my head. I pushed his hand away and sighed annoyed. “Let’s just sit and talk until they go away.” Ace leaned closer to me which made me froze on my spot as the heat in my body haven’t left yet. But he did lean closer only to grab his t-shirt and put it back on. “Weren’t you the one insisting to get in bed? Go on.” He sat down on the bed and patted the side next to the wall for me to get on the bed and sit. I hopped on the bed quickly trying to ignore the wet patched that could feel formed on my underwear and leaned on the headboard. Pulling my legs closer to my body I couldn’t help but clenched my thighs. My eyes shut closed at the feeling it was too much, it was like a torture. My whole body was on fire and all he did was taking his shirt off. This wasn’t the first time I have seen him without one but this time it affected me differently. The lyrics of his new song stuck to my mind. ‘Touch me... just touch me...’ I was screaming inside my mind. As he could read my mind Ace placed his hand on my knee which made my body jerk away slightly as my eyes shot open. He had leaned on the headboard as well but this time he was closer to me. “You alright, doll?” His voice became deeper and raspier. I half nodded with a hummed. “You sure? You seem a little... breathless.” His mouth twitched and his dark brown eyes has gotten even darker. The hand that was placed on my knee slowly traced its way to the middle of my thigh, giving it a slight squeeze. If it wasn’t for the leggings I was wearing, probably my skin was going to be on fire. He knew. The look in his half-lidded eyes couldn’t fool me. I might be lightheaded right now because of my increased pulse and the ache between my thighs but Ace knew what he was doing. He was aware of the state he got me in, and he was enjoying it. “Say something, baby.” Baby? This was new, but the way he said it made it sound so sultry. I opened my mouth to say something, but he squeezed on my thigh once again which draw out a desperate whispered out of me. “What was that?” Tilted his head slightly acting as he didn’t hear what escaped my lips just seconds ago. I swallowed hard and licked my lips trying to think of something to say. Something to distract me from the fire within me.

“Why... why ‘A little death’?” I blurted out. My question was unexpected and while Ace pulled away from me a bit, his hand stayed on my thigh.

“It’s a translation from a French phrase.” His eyes shifted from mine as he turned his head slightly away. Now observing his side profile, it was even harder to read him.

“What is the phrase? What does it mean?” My voice came out as a whispered. A puff of air escaped his nose in a makeshift laugh.

“‘La petite mort’. It means post-orgasm sensation as likened to death.” His index finger was running small circles on my thigh, in a way I was experiencing my own little death.

“I didn’t know you speak French.”

“I don’t. But I know a thing or two.” He side glanced me with a smirk. With one last squeeze on my thigh, he suddenly got up from the bed straitened his back. “Okay, I’m going now.”

“No, stay.” I got on my knees on the bed and held on his hand. “I will sleep on the couch as I said, and you can ta-”

“(Y/N), no.” His tone was gentle but the look on his face was stern. Not only this but this time he turned to me with my name, something he barely ever did. “I’m going home and you are sleeping in your own bed.” I felt like a child who is being scolded by their parents. Lowering my head I let go of his hand and stood up from the bed. We walked to the entrance and didn’t say anything until Ace was at the door ready to leave as he put his boots and jacket on.

“Can you at least text me when you get home?” Leaning on the wall I didn’t dare to look at him. In a way I was exhausted of his sudden mood changes.

“Sure.” He replied as he opened the door. “Take care, doll.” Was the last thing he said to be before closing the door behind him.

*********

Christmas came and went. Early in the morning today Shanks and I sent off my dad to the airport. The three weeks he had been here went by so fast, but it was so nice to be able to spend time with him again. We also got to meet Natasha over the holidays. She was so fun and nice. Having barely six years age difference between us we quickly found things we both like and we talked about going out together someday. Even after all the fun I had, Ace didn’t leave my mind for even a second. Since he was at my place last Sunday the only thing, we have texted each other was ‘Merry Christmas’ and it was me who reached out first. The burning sensation from Sunday night was still so fresh in my mind. Why did he tease me like that? Why didn’t he do anything when he was fully aware of the fact that I desired him, probably more than he did me. Was it because of our so called ‘friendship’? It’s not even a proper one so I doubt anything was going to change if we had lost ourselves in the moment. Or I was entirely wrong, and a lot was going to change if we had done something that night. Deep down I knew myself, he had already swept me off my feet, the fact that just seeing him shirtless got me all heated was enough to prove me that if something more was to happen in the past Sunday, maybe there was going to be a lot of regret after. Maybe Ace was right to stopped it before we both regrated it. Still nothing was changing the fact that I was into him, and this whole ‘friendship’ bullshit was killing me. At least if I knew if it was mutual ‘crush’ it would have been easier. If I knew that he only wanted to sleep with me maybe then I was going to take a step back and rethink if it was worthed, but no. I was out in the dark trying my best to read him and break his walls while every time I managed to break a single brick another thick wall was appearing.

It was around four pm when my phone rang. I put my book aside and grabbed the phone from the nightstand.

“Ace?” I said answering.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” He blurted out.

“Mm, no. I’m just chilling at home. Why?”

“Cool, I will pick up at eight.” He said and didn’t give me any time to ask anything or protest before he hang up. I moved the phone from my ear and just blankly stared at it. Of course, he had ignored me for days only to storm back like a hurricane. The worst part was that I somehow enjoyed this. As mush as he was confusing, irritating and so suffocating to be around sometimes, he was also my favourite company. Whit Ace, I could be myself and not feel judged or unsafe. He might have been an asshole many times, but he was also caring, protective, fun and quite gentle when he wanted to be. Ace was a bit of everything, and he always found a way to make me melt for him even when I was all mad and irritated with him. Shaking my head trying to come on my sense as I realised, I sounded as if I was in love with him or something. I had four hours until he picks me up, so I continued reading until almost six. Then I got up from bed and got ready. I had no idea where or what we were going to do so I put a safe outfit. Just a pair of jeans and a white off shoulder blouse. It didn’t take me much to do my makeup or hair, so I was done getting ready quite fast. Until I received a message from him that he was downstairs I was scrolling on my socials. Putting my boots and coat on I grabbed a small handbag before I left. Going down the stairs I realise that I had to suffer another ride on his motorbike, which as much as I would have enjoy holding him while he drove us to whatever we were going, the weather was adding to my fear. Taking a step outside instead of seeing Ace leaned on his bike as always, he was leaning on a car. Not like I had a big knowledge about cars, but it was a sport car for sure. He smiled at me when he saw me and opened the door for me once I stood in front of him. I thanked him and got inside the car. Once he got inside and started the engine I took a better look at him. He wore some dark jeans with some grey sweater on and his red beams necklace around his neck. For a first time ever his hair was kind of styled but still messy. This man didn’t know how to take proper care of his curls.

“I didn’t know you have a car.” I finally broke the silence as we stopped on a red light.

“I don’t. It’s Sabo’s.” He glanced at me and winked.

“Oh, this explains the colour then.” I said looking out of the window.

“What do you mean?” Ace chuckled, his eyes back on the road as the traffic light changed to green.

“I can’t imagine you driving a white car. It just doesn’t say... you, it doesn’t say Ace... you get what I mean?” A chuckle escaped my lips.

“And what colour you think will suit me, doll?” He side-eyed me for a second.

“Something black, and big maybe like a jeep or a truck.” I had no idea what I was talking about all I wanted was to avoid traveling in uncomfortable silence, since what had happened on Sunday.

“I like sport cars like this one. I even thought about getting the same one.” Ace said as he lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.

“Where are you taking me by the way?” I shifted a bit on the passenger seat readjusting the seatbelt.

“A friend of mine and their band are performing in a small bar tonight. I saw it earlier today on Instagram and I thought to myself why not, then I called you and you said yes.”

“I never said yes.” My head tilted in his direction, and I saw the way he tried to hold his smile but failed.

“Nah, you did.” Ace said confidently like he didn’t know better than me that he literally gave me no choice. I opened my mouth to say something, but he turned to look at me and we both shared a laugher.

“You are bad at pretending, you know?” I teased him.

“When I want to be.” He replied.

Maybe after thirty minutes we arrived at a part of the city where I haven’t been in so far. It was quite far away from where I lived but it was quite nice. All the streets, even the smallest alleyways were decorated if not with Christmas lights, then with some kind of fairy lights. Ace parked the car on a rather busy street. Before I got the chance to open the door, he had already opened it for. He even gave me his hand as I got out of the car.

“You know you can be quite the gentleman when you want to.” I nudged him on the side as we started to walk. An exhale of breath in a makeshift laughter escaped his lips.

“You said it, doll. When I want to.” He pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket and took out a cigarette lighting it.

“Isn’t smoking bad for your voice?” I didn’t get a verbal answer just a shake of his head. “Really?” I raised my brow as I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“It is, but I not planning to quit them anytime soon.” He took another puff of his cigarette.

“You have a lot of bad habits.” I murmured with a smile.

“That’s my charm.” He came closer to me and wrapped his hand around my shoulder. Chills ran all over my body. He wasn’t even touching my skin, yet my body was ready to respond to him. What was going on with me? “We are here.” Ace threw his cigarette away and led me inside a... candy shop. “Trust me.” He let out chuckled as he held on to my hand and looked at me over his shoulder. We reached the end of the candy shop and there was a big door covered with different candy wrappers. Ace pulled the door open and there were stairs leading to a hidden bar. Music and chatter could be heard. “Come on, I’m here. You are safe.” He saw my hesitation and was quick to reassure me that I was going to be alright.

“Promise me you won’t leave me even for a second.” I gripped on his arm as anxiety started to build in me.

“I promise, doll.” His voice was gentle and sincere. I nodded with my head slightly without easing my grip around his hand, but he didn’t protest. The place wasn’t big and not very full. But it was only nine pm so maybe later there would be more people. For an underground bar the interior was very nice. The walls weren’t covered with any paint and were completely naked and it was all bricks. There were led lights on the ground colouring the walls with a golden glow making the place somehow cozy. Ace led me to the bar. Behind the bar counter the wall was divided with two arches which were covered with two big mirrors and all the alcohol they offered displayed on the shelves. “What do you want to drink?” Ace turned to me and moved a stand of my hair away from my face with his free hand.

“Just a coke zero, with a lot of ice, please.” I told him as my eyes were carefully observing the place. It wasn’t a shady place but so was the ‘Ska Stage’ yet my night there ended up in a hospital.

“Doll, I need to use both of my hands.” Ace said and I immediately let go of his hand. I apologised to him, but he brushed me off. He handed me the cola with a glass filled up with ice, while he held a bottle of non-alcoholic beer in his hand. Ace stood behind my back and pointed to a tall table where we could sit. We placed our drinks on the table and took off our jackets placing them on one of the chairs. Ace pulled his chair closer to mine and I was thankful of him and how mindful he was so far. I have relaxed for a bit but still I was a little nervous for later.

“What time is your friend performing?” I asked him while filling the glass with cola.

“Ten thirty if I remember correctly.” Ace took a sip of his beer.

“Have you been here before?” I took another look at the place. We sat between two column brick walls making the space around us a little private.

“Yes, I have. Me and the guys wanted to perform here at the beginning when we started but let’s say someone slept with the wrong person’s daughter.” He lowered his head as he tried to suppress his laugher.

“Oh my, Ace you are such a whore.” I said as my whole face cringed.

“Woah, woah, easy there. Who said it was me?” His brows raised in disbelief of my comment. “Believe it or not, but Deuce is not as innocent as he might look.” My mouth almost fell to the floor when he said this.

“No way it was Deuce.”

“I’m telling the truth.” He raised his hands in defence.

“I will ask Deuce about this.” I pointed my finger at Ace giving him a last chance to be honest.

“Damn, always the worst assumption about me, doll huh?” Ace shook his head, but the smile wasn’t leaving his face. “Okay, ask him, but I promise you, you will be apologising to me after.” He flicked me on the forehead. I pouted as he did so, and he just smirked.

“Do they play the same genre as you?” I was curious as I had never heard of the band performing tonight, but I supposed they were quite new.

“Nah, they are a pop band. I am a close friend with the vocalist, they are very good.”

“Better than you?” I teased him as I nudged his elbow with mine. Ace smirked as hummed left his lips.

“You could say this.”

“No, I don’t believe this.” I scrunched my nose and shook my head.

“Yea, stoke my ego, I love this.” Ace sarcastically said leaning closer to me. I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. My eyes caught something behind him, and I squinted to see better. Ace noticed and turned around to see what I was looking at.

“Are those there card games?” I asked and Ace hummed in response. “Do you wanna play?” I placed my hands on the table excitedly.

“Go grab whichever one you want.” He didn’t need to tell me twice as I jumped from the chair and went to look at the games. The one that caught my attention the most was called ‘answer or dare’ so I grabbed it and went back to Ace. I placed it on the table and with a little jumped I sat back on my chair. “What did you choose?” He took the game in his hand and observed it.

“So, you take a card from the black deck and there are four questions, and you choose which one to ask me and if I don’t want to answer I must do one of the dares from the red deck of cards.” I explained quickly as he started to pull the decks from the box. “Do you want to be first?”

“No, you can start.” He winked at me and took a sip of his beer. I nodded and reached to take a card from the black deck. The questions were either dirty or super boring, but I decided to start with something simple.

“Okay, this one: which is your celebrity crush?” I read the card and looked at him.

“I don’t have one.” His brows knitted as thought for a second but shook his head. “No, I really don’t have one.” Ace grabbed a card and smiled. He looked at me with a stone faced as he held the card hidden with his index and middle finger. “What’s the colour of your nipples?” He asked me with a overly sultry tone and I burst out laughing as I knew that there was no such question, but he was referring to a meme I had sent him a few weeks ago. He started laughing with me as I slapped him on the shoulder.

“You are awful.” I said in between laughter.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, doll. I will try to be serious.” He looked at the card between his fingers and read the question he set his mind on. “Did you have any nicknames growing up?” I was a little surprised that he set his mind on something boring and didn’t go straight to the spicy questions.

“Yes, I did, and it was given to me by Shanks and till this day he calls me by it.”

“And the nickname is...” Ace waved his hand to me to spit it out.

“Foxy...” I murmured as I looked away when I felt my cheeks heating.

“Wait, isn’t this also you Instagram name.” He poked me with his finger on the sides and I jumped on my spot with a yelp.

“Yes, this is where my name comes from.”

“Cute. Your turn.” Ace put his card aside and I took another. My eyes lit up as the card had the perfect question for him, something that always slipped my mind and I have wanted to ask him for a long time now.

“Tell the story behind the most embarrassing tattoo you have.” I giggled while reading the card. Ace groaned as he propped this head on the back of his hand. “I’ve actually been curious about this one for a long time now.” I said as he took a deep breath in before throwing his head up and biting on his lip.

“My one and only tattoo happened because I lost a bet against Sabo, and I don’t even remember what the bet was about anymore as it has been ten years now.” I propped my chin on my crossed fingers as I was all ears listening to his story. “Anyway, the loser was supposed to get a homemade tattoo whi-” I interrupted him immediately.

“What do you mean by homemade tattoo, is this even a thing?” My eyes widen, I was hundred percent sure there was no such thing as ‘homemade’ tattoo, this wasn’t some cake recipe.

“There is no such thing as a ‘homemade’ tattoo, but we called it that. Guess who the tattoo artist was?” He looked seriously at me waiting for my answer.

“S-Sabo?”

“I wish. It was Luffy.” He squeezed his eyes shut as I burst out laughing again.

“No, no, Ace, no.” I shook my head as I couldn’t stop laughing. Ace was just nodding his head as he bit on his lips.

“He was twelve, and apparently for twelve years he didn’t learn how to spell my name, which by the way I forgot to mention, I didn’t choose the tattoo, Sabo did.” Every time I thought this story couldn’t get worse Ace proved me wrong. “The misspelling isn’t the worst part, it got infected, and it was not only itchy but also painful. But yeah, after the infection went away, I went to a professional tattoo artist, and they covered Luffy’s messy handwriting so it can look better.” He lifted his shoulders once he was done with the story, and I cooed. I felt a little bad for him, it was a funny story, but he did suffer.

“Why didn’t you remove it?”

“It added more character to me.” He playfully raised his eyebrows and smirked. “My turn.” He said as he took a card from the deck. We continued with the game laughing and messing around. It was his turn again and he laughed mischievously as he read the card. “Oh doll, I think your first dare is coming.” He licked his lower lip as he looked at me. “What do you fantasize about when you... you know... show your body some love?” My face went blank when he read the question with a smug smile placed on his face.

“There is no way this is written on the card.” I snatched the card from his fingers because I was sure he was messing with me, but no. The questing was the real and way more uncensored than the way he asked me. I gave him the card back. “I’m not answering this.”

“I know.” He said and reached for a red card. His brows frowned as he read the dares on the card. “Okay, you choose between these two: sing your favourite song chorus or let me text whoever I choose from your contact list something.” I whined when I heard the dares, but there was no way I was singing in front of Ace, so I told him to take my phone from the pocket of my coat and text whoever he wants whatever as I also told him my password. His brows frowned for a second as he grabbed my phone but then he quickly typed something and put my phone back.

“Should I be worried what you texted?” I wasn’t worried at all to who he might have texted as much as what he might have texted.

“Nah, don’t worry, the person will know it’s from me.” He winked at me. We continued with the game before we got interrupted by someone tapping on Ace’s shoulder. Ace looked over his shoulder and his eyes lit up. “Izo! What’s up, bro?” He got up and bumped shoulders with the guy.

“Hey, Ace. Haven’t seen you in a while.” The tall dark-haired guy said. He turned to me and greeted me as well and I smiled at him.

“Oh, this is (Y/N).” Ace was quick to introduce me. Izo reached with his hand to shake mine as he introduced himself. “What’s brings you here?”

“My boyfriend is friend with one of the band members and we came to listen to them tonight.” He pointed with his thumb behind him where his boyfriend was. “Oh, Ace.” Izo excitedly exclaimed. “He was at your show in the ‘Ska Stage’ and he said you guys were phenomenal. Sadly, I had an emergency from work, and I couldn’t come, but he showed me some videos he took that night and you guys killed it.”

“Yea, even I was satisfied with this performance, so thank you man.” Ace boyishly laughed as he ran his hand through his hair. Someone called for Izo and he turned to see that his friends were calling for him.

“If you guys want to join us, please do.” His eyes shifted between Ace and me. Ace looked at me over his shoulder before he turned back to Izo.

“Some other time man.” Ace told him and Izo quickly got what was going on.

“No worries, guys. Still, you can join us at any time.” He waved us a quick goodbye before he went back to his boyfriend and friends. Ace sat back and smiled.

“You wanna continue with the game?” He asked me but I shook my head. I took a better look around us and noticed how the place was almost full. Until now I didn’t even realise it as I was too focused on the game and Ace. “I will go and get us some more drinks, do you want the same?”

“Yes, and a lot of ice. But... um..” My eyes shifted around, and Ace got the hint immediately.

“You will be able to see me the whole time and I will be looking towards your direction as well.” He reassured me as he placed his hand on my bare shoulder.

“No, this is okay, don’t worry... it’s just...” I felt really awkward as I didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a baby. “I need to go to the restroom.” I mumbled under my breath. Until I noticed how many people have come, I was alright but now my anxiety and Izo mentioning the ‘Ska Stage’ triggered something in me.

“Okay, let’s go first there and I will wait for you outside or do you want me to speak with some girl to come with you inside as well?” Not only his voice but even his eyes were soft and full of concern.

“Just you waiting outside is enough.” I replied. Ace nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulder as I hopped off the chair and we walked to the toilets. He let go of me once we reached the women’s restroom and I got inside. Thankfully there was no queue, so I got inside fast. After I washed my hands, I checked myself in the mirror, everything was on its place even my hair. Ace was waiting for me outside the lady’s restroom as he promised. “Thank you.” I whispered once I stood in front of him. He gave me half a smile and we walked back to the table. Then he went to get us another round of non-alcoholic drinks, which I appreciated because it was nice to be outside and have fun time without alcohol. And so far, tonight I was enjoying myself, and by the looks of it so did Ace. While I was waiting for him to come back, I checked my phone. I had two messages – one from Luffy and one from Dave. The one from Luffy was just ‘Ace xDD’ so I guessed, Ace texted him when he had my phone, and the one from Dave was ‘What time should I pick you up tomorrow?’

“Tomorrow?” I said out loud to myself. It took me a moment to remember that we were going to see a movie. Quickly I responded to him that he can pick me up an hour or so before the screening.

“Hmm, texting the boyfriend?” I jumped on my seat as I didn’t notice that Ace was back. He put the drinks on the table, and I thanked him before I asked what he meant by this.

“What boyfriend?” I snored.

“David or whatever his name was.” Ace smirked before taking a sip of his beer, but the small eyeroll didn’t escape my sight.

“Dave.” I corrected him, as a little sound like laugher puff escaped my nose. “And he is my friend.”

“I’ve heard something else.” He side-eyed me. The smirk was still on his face but the smugness which usually came with it wasn’t present.

“Find a better source then.” I grumbled as I turned my head away from him and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Easy there, doll. Did I step on your tail or something?” His voice was teasing and mocking at the same time. Placing his hand on top of my crossed ones I only glanced at him.

“What have you heard and from who?” The irritation in my voice was more than clear.

“Usopp mentioned you are going on a date with him, so I thought something is going on between you two.” Ace removed his hand from mine and took another sip of his beer. “By the way you react something is obviously going on.” He murmured under his nose. My eyes widen from what I just heard.

“Wait, what? What date? How did Usopp knew about this?” The realisation slapped me like a wet mop in the face. “No, no, no. Fuck, no.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know it was a date.” Ace said seriously and I just shook my head. He bit the insides of his cheeks as he tried to contain his laugher.

“It’s tomorrow and no I had no idea, he just said wanna go see the screening of ‘Interstellar’ and I said yes, because it’s one of my favourite movie.” Slapping myself wasn’t enough and Ace laughing wasn’t helping. “Ace it’s not funny. He is a very good guy, and I don’t want to lead him on.” I whined.

“Doll, how did you not get the hint?” He gave me a sincere look as he placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Damn, even I feel bad for the guy now.”

“If I knew it was a date I would have never said yes.” I leaned my head on his hand and pouted. “I will text him to cancel.” Unlocking my phone determined to cancel the ‘date’, Ace snatched it from me. “Hey, give it back.” I protested instead he just put it in the back pocket of his pants. “Ace what are you doing? It’s not funny, give it back.”

“Don’t cancel. Go on the date.” Hearing this felt like someone was driving a nail into my heart with a hammer. The small smile placed on Ace’s face wasn’t helping. I did in fact not get hints, because tonight got my hopes up for a moment, but he couldn’t make it more clear than now – we were never going to be anything more than friends. “You never know you might have quite lot of fun. Give the guy a chance.” He winked at me and another nail was hammered into my foolish heard. Swallowing hard I placed a big fake smile on my face.

“He is my friend, Ace, I don’t want to hurt him by leading him on.” I moved my gaze away as I didn’t want to look into his eyes. “After all, playing with someone’s feeling is one of the worst things you can do to a person.” There was a lot of hidden meaning behind my words which I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to catch on it or not.

“Doll –“ He couldn’t finish his sentence as everyone started applauding. We looked at each other and Ace smiled. “I think they are starting. Come.” He held his hand for me to take and I did as I hopped of the chair. Making our way to the small stage Ace stood next to me with his hand around my shoulder, a very friendly gesture. There were quite lot of people around us and it was calming to have Ace keeping me close to him as it made me feel secure. I tried to shake away the pang of pain in my heart and enjoy the night. On the small podium were three people – three boys and a girl.

“Which one is your friend?” I slightly tilted my head towards Ace. He looked down at me and then at the stage pointing with his chin at the girl.

“Yamato – they are great.” I moved my eyes to the stage looking at them. They were tall and very fit. A big grin was placed on their face as they were greeting everyone. They were dressed in a super baggy light blue jeans and a Nirvana sleeveless top with their white hair with blue highlight up in a ponytail. The guys behind them were matching their outfit but in different shades of colour. The guy on the drums raised his hands in the air and counted with his drumsticks three times before they started playing. The melody filled up the space and everyone cheered.  

I'm trying to tell you I'm trying to know you I'm dying to show you Fighting to get you

Their voice was a lot softer than Ace’s but still they were as good as Ace clamed they were.

Soon as you got me You go and drop me It's cool when you burn me I love how you hurt me

Listening carefully to the lyrics I found it ironic. I was strongly relating to the feelings Yamato was singing about.

It's not what you said It's the way you say it It's not what you did It's the way you do it

I couldn’t help but look at Ace. He was enjoying himself, singing along, even tapping with his right foot to the rhythm of the music. Sick and tired of needing your affection I chose to be lonely than live without your attention

The more I was listening to the lyrics the more my heartbeat was increasing.

I scratch your sweet name Right into my skin You left me bleeding But I couldn't give in

The skin on my shoulders was burning with every squeeze, every little movement of his fingers and every time he would run his hand a little up and down along my arm. I wasn’t sure who to curse - myself for choosing an open shoulders blouse or Ace for having this effect on my body.

I swallowed the poison to get infected Give back my heart that your body rejected

I have lost count how many times Ace has started something only to rejected me, and I haven’t realised it or at least I didn’t want to admit to myself as I continued to believe that maybe... just maybe... something might happen between us. But he made it clear – friends. Nothing more, nothing less. After all he did tell me to go on a date with another guy just minutes ago.

I'm standing in the pain That's smothering me It's more becoming my own blood Why can't you see?

While he was lost in the song, I was lost in him. I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. I wasn’t the best in faking what I was feeling. Why he couldn’t realise that this ‘friendship’ was not working. This friendship was doomed from the start.

That I'm starving for your love And I need attention Or I'm going to die

Nothing could have prepared me for what crossed my mind. ‘Why couldn’t have I fallen for Dave, instead I fell for you Ace?’ It was like someone splashed me with a bucket with ice cold water. Chills run all over my body when the thought crossed my mind. I had fallen for Ace. I took a step back from Ace, and he turned to look at me. He pulled me closer to him and leaned closer to me, almost pulling my entire body close to his.

“Is everything alright, baby?” He whispered in my ear but from standing so close to me and the music I couldn’t hear him. His breath tickling my skin making it having goosebumps all over. Breath caught in my lungs I tried collecting myself as fast as possible I placed both of my hands on his chest and locked my eyes with his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Are you okay?” He pulled me even closer and now my entire body was pressed to his as his hand fell from my shoulder to the middle of waist. I nodded my head and awkwardly chuckled.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” He raised his eyebrow doubtfully. Raising on my tiptoes I whispered to him. “Your friend is great.” Pulling back from him still bodies locked he smiled at me.

“I told you.” Ace said removing his hand from my waist and taking a step back. “Wait to hear the rest of their songs.” And he was right. The band was great. The realisation, the feelings they were here, and they weren’t going to fade away anytime soon, so instead of worrying about it now, I decided to just savour the moment with Ace. Everyone was dancing and singing, even me and Ace. Finishing the song everyone applauded, and Yamato spoke on the microphone.

“A special shout out to one of my most dear friends – Ace, who I spot in the crowd. The next song is a special one, as he helped me writing it. So, for you Ace and the pretty girl next to you.” They happily exclaimed on the mic and winked at us with a big smile on their face. Ace’s boyish laughter left his lips as Yamato dedicated the song to us. I bounced on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me so he could hear me better as the song started.

“Did you help writing the whole song?” My eyes filled up with excitement as I was always looking forward for the songs he had written as I knew that when he writes he means and feels it.

“Nah, only the chorus. They are giving me too much credit.” He replied as he turned me around and stood behind me with his hands on my waist. Even though we were dancing until now we didn’t cross any lines, but with his hands on my waist all the thoughts I put aside, run back to my mind and my whole body went numb.

I'm gonna get hurt I'm gonna get hurt

The song was quite heartbreaking if you ignore the quick pop-electro tempo, and you were listening to the lyrics.

Keep playin' my heartstrings faster and faster You can be just what I want, my true disaster

Ace was singing along the chorus with them while his hands didn’t leave my waist for even a second. I leaned my body on his while we were swaying to the rhythm, placing my hands on top of his as he wrapped them around me. ‘Just savour the moment’ was a constant thought in my mind tonight. Sometimes in life what we want and what we get were not always the same thing. I couldn’t blame Ace for the way I felt towards him as he had warned me from the beginning – just friends. Lost in thought I didn’t realise the song had finished and so did the performance until I heard loud applauses around me. Ace pulled away and nodded me to follow him. He led me towards where his friend was as he held me by the hand. His big, yet soft hand felt so good wrapped around my fingers.

“Yamato.” He called out loud. They turned around and their eyes lit up at the sight of Ace.

“Ace.” They screamed and run towards him wrapping their arms around him. Ace returned the hug with one hand only as he wasn’t letting go of mine. “I haven’t seen you in almost two months man, where the hell have you been?” Yamato pulled away and grabbed Ace by the shoulders shaking him. Ace laughed in response as he let go of my hand and then placed it again around my shoulders.

“I’ve been busy with the band, you know how it is.” He chuckled raising his shoulders in a half shrug. “This is (Y/N), by the way.” He introduced me and Yamato’s eyes quickly shifted to me as a big smile spread across their face.

“Nice to finally put a face to the name. I’m Yamato.” They reached for a handshake. Up this close they were slightly taller than Ace and they didn’t even wear heels. I took their hand with a smile and shook it. Also, did they just said, ‘put a face to the name’? Has Ace mentioned me? No, no way he had. They probably meant to say, ‘a name to the face’.

“Nice to meet you, Yamato. Your band is great. And I’m in love the first song you sang, I’m adding it to my playlist.” I returned the big smile.

“Thank you, Ace hates it.” They crossed their arms in front of their chest and stuck their nose in the air, winking at me.

“Don’t listen to them, I love the song.” He said as he rolled his eyes. “You killed it tonight.” Ace fist bumped them on the shoulder and Yamato returned it but instead on the shoulder they hit him on the stomach. I felt and saw how Ace’s muscles tense as Yamato wasn’t being light with their punches.

“We used to go kickboxing together, he is fine don’t worry.” Yamato turned to me as they noticed my reaction to their strange encounter. Their bandmates called out for them and Yamato groan. “Are you leaving immediately? We can grab a drink or two.” Their smile widened and eyes filled with a sparkle. Yamato was full of energy like they had just woken up. Ace looked at me asking me with his eyes if I wanted to stay longer or not.

“It’s up to you.” I gave him a small smile.

“We aren’t in a hurry.” He said as he winked at me.

**********

Walking back to the car, Ace and I were laughing loudly. I almost tripped which caused him to get a hold of me and balance me back, which lead to more giggles. We had stayed until the bar closed, talking and laughing with Yamato and their bandmates. Them and Ace had been friends for almost five years now and both had found themselves in quite questionable situations.

“Shh, quiet we might wake people up.” I said in between giggles trying to catch my breath from all the laughter. Ace glanced at me and mischievous grin appeared on his face.

“Help, someone, help sh-” He screamed on top of his lungs, but I was quick to cover his mouth with my hands.

“Ace.” I hissed with laugher and looked up to see if we had woken up someone. It was almost three am and even though we haven’t drunk any alcohol it felt like we were drunk. The whole laughing uncontrollably situation started as we went out of the bar and some guy fell in the candy shop knocking two shelves of candies with him. Thinking about it now didn’t seem so funny but five minutes ago seemed like the funniest thing on earth. Ace murmured something in my hand bringing my attention back to him. “What?” Instead of an answer I received a little bite but sharp bite on my palm. “Ouch, are you a vampire or something?” I pulled my hand back and a little bite mark was left on the inside of it.

“I barely bit you.” He took my hand and observed the mark. “You will live, doll.” Winking at me he pulled out the keys for the car from his jacket and opened the car. Ace opened the door for me and I thanked him as I got inside the car. Closing the door and going to the driver’s side once he sat down and shut the door, we looked at each other and laughter burst out again. Ace took a deep breath and started the car. He turned to me and stared at my eyes for a moment.

“What is there something on my face?” I joked as I noticed the way he observed me. Eyes half lidded with a little half smirk on his eyes.

“Nah, your face is flawless as always, doll.” My heart skipped a beat, from all the laughter his voice sounded a little raspier, but adding to the sound of his voice what he said to me add to the blush on my face. Rasing my eyebrow at him questionably he looked at the road and then back to me. “Are you in hurry to go home, after all tomorrow you are going to be busy.” His tone was cocky and mocking but his eyes weren’t. There was something in them that I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but it wasn’t mockery or teasing. Rolling my eyes knowing what he implied by me being ‘busy’ tomorrow I shook my head. “Would you let me take you somewhere with quite nice view at this hour?” And the smugness in his voice and eyes was back.

“Why aren’t you already driving us there is the question.” I teased him. Ace snorted a laugher and started the car. He offered me his phone to play whatever music I wanted but I choose to go through the radio channels instead. Twenty minutes into the drive, I was still changing the radio every thirty seconds. Ace glanced at me for a second before returning his eyes to the road.

“Doesn’t anything suit your music taste?” He asked with a chuckled.

“No, I just don’t know what I want to listen to.” I whined changing yet again the stations. Ace sighed and just shook his head. “What?” Glancing at him he just smiled and slightly shrugged.

“It’s not like I didn’t offer you my phone to play something...” He murmured under his breath. I lightly slapped his shoulder with the back of my hand, receiving a huffed laughter from him. Looking out of the window for a moment, I noticed that we were in the outside skirt of the city.

“Where are we going?” I turned to Ace who was focused on the road, which had a lot of curves and trees surrounding it.

“You will see.” He replied. I took a good look of his face – he had a little playful smile on it, which meant that he had something in mind. Pressing the screen again to change to another radio channel I heard familiar melody. I smiled as I recognised the song and leaned on my seat.

She said, "Hello, mister, pleased to meet ya" I wanna hold her, I wanna kiss her

I heard Ace chuckled as he also recognised the song. He increased the volume and started tapping on the steering wheel with his fingers.

She'd drive me crazy, she'd drive me crazy

We both stared humming the song.

Gonna take her for a ride on a big jet plane

I glanced at Ace. His eyes were on the road, but his mind was somewhere else. I couldn’t help but smile as he started to sing quietly as he was lost in his own thoughts.

Be my lover, my lady river Can I take ya, take ya higher?

His voice was so different when he sang – the usual raspiness couldn’t be heard at all, instead it was so smooth and alluring. Closing my eyes and relaxing on the seat, all enchanted by his voice. I was quietly murmuring to myself the lyrics. My favourite part of the song was about to come by my breath hitched. My eyes shoot open when I felt Ace’s hand on my thigh close to my knee. He squeezed it gently as he sang along with the song.

Gonna hold ya, gonna kiss ya in my arms Gonna take ya away from harm

His eyes didn’t move even for a second from the road, but the way his muscles trembled and the way the expression on his face hardened didn’t escaped my sight. ‘What’s going on in your mind Ace?’ It felt like the most natural thing in the world to just reached out and run my fingers on the nape of his neck. I felt him tensed and relax at the same time. He side glanced me and gave me a half smile, which didn’t reach the corner of his eyes. There was no trace of his charming or smugness in it, there was only bitterness in it. Taking his hand away from my thigh he placed it on top of mine and gently squeezed it as he removed it from his nape and placed it on my knee. The pang I felt in my chest was agonizing. With two hands back on the wheel the car felt in silence even with the music on the background. And he switched again... Lowering my head I stared at my fingers as I nervously played with them in my lap. I wanted to slap myself. Why did I do this? Why couldn’t I stop myself instead of ruining everything. ‘Good job (Y/N), good job.’ Cursing myself wasn’t enough. At this point I should have learned that him displaying any physical intimacy with me meant nothing, as Nami had said – Ace was a big flirt. Maybe he didn’t even realise it or if he did, he meant it in a different way, whatever this way might have been.

My thoughts were interrupted as I felt the car stopped moving. Ace cleared his throat making me glanced at him from under my lashes. He had taken his seatbelt off and turned his body slightly towards me with one arm resting on the steering wheel. Pointing to me with his eyes to the windshield. I followed his gaze and gasped. We were on a very high hill on the side of the road. From here half of the Grand Line city could be seen. Not only the city lights, but the sky was so clear tonight making the moon and the starts shined bright. While we were surrounded by the tall trees from the forest. I was in an awe. It was beautiful.

“How did you find this place?” My voice came out as a whispered.

“By chance.” Ace replied, voice deep but not loud. “I know you don’t smoke but wanna come outside with me for one quick cig?” Tearing my eyes away from the view I half nodded. We went out of the car and propped on the front of it, keeping a distance between each other. It has gotten colder than it was before but the fact that we were this high was adding to the coldness. Wrapping my arms around myself and tightening the coat around me, I didn’t do it only to protect myself from the cold air but the cutting silence, too. Ace lighted up his cigarette and took a long puff from it.

“Shit, I forgot to give you this back.” He said as he pulled my phone from his back pocket. I took it from him and saw that I had a message from Dave but choose to ignore it and answer it later. The silence was killing me so taking a deep breath and chuckled awkwardly. Ace blowed the cigarette smoke away and glanced at me with a raised eyebrow.

“You know what this reminds me of?” I asked gesturing with my hands to the view in front of us. He shook his head and waited for my response. “Have you seen ‘La La Land’?” I didn’t dare to look at him so I kept my eyes on the view but still could see a little bit of him with my peripheral vision. Ace hummed.

“Yea, and?” He took another drag.

“Well, you know the hill where they were going all the time, this place here gives me the same vibes.” I chattered. Taking a better look at the view in front of us Ace let out a chuckle.

“You know, I can actually see it. You are right.” He took one last puff of the cigarette and threw it on the ground and stomped it. Silence took over once again. The city lights were flickering, and we were surrounded by tall trees and small bushes. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed in silence until something moved in the bush in front of us. Scream left my lip as I instinctively jumped to Ace for protection. He was quick to straiten his position and caught me in his arms as I squeezed my eyes shut burying my face is his chest. Soft boyish laughter escaped his lips.

“Don’t laugh what if it’s a snake.” I squealed jumping on one foot to the other.

“Calm down and turn around, doll.” He chuckled and turned my body around. Hearing a quiet ‘meow’ I opened my eyes and cooed. It was a little stray orange kitten. Slowly but steady it made its way to us, or I should say its way to Ace. The moment it reached Ace, it started rubbing itself on his leg. Ace giggled and squatted down immediately to pet the kitty. “Hey, there. Aren’t you beautiful?” It was like the kitty knew what Ace was telling it and stared meowing. “Yes, yes you are pretty.” I crouched next to him to take a better look at the kitty but also pet it.

“It’s a she.” I said as the kitty had its tail up in the air. “She is quite found of you.” I chuckled as the kitty was purring from his touch.

“What can I say I have this effect on the kittens.” Ace turned to me with a wink. I rolled my eyes at his lame line.

“Cringe” I said yet couldn’t deny him this, he was right.

“You are probably hungry, aren’t you princess? What are you doing here all alone?” The kitty turned on its belly and Ace started tickling her. This was so cute my heart couldn’t take it. “I’m sorry I don’t have any food with me. No, no she doesn’t have as well.” A giggle escaped my lips as it was just so adorable watching him speaking to the kitty with his softest voice like it could understand him. I stood and pulled my phone and took a quick video of their interaction. “Hey, no paparazzi.” Ace turned to the camera with a big grin on his face as he continued playing with the kitten. “No, princess I can’t take you home.” He said to the kitten as it was back on its paws. It meowed at him pleadingly. “I know, I know. But I can come tomorrow and bring you some food, you will be here, right?” The kitty meowed once more, and Ace petted it one last time before it went away. He got back on his feet and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“This was adorable.” I cooed as I leaned closer to him. He looked at me and smirked.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said that cats love me. Literally if there is a cat around it always comes to me and ignores everyone else.” The big smile on his face was like of a kid who just win the biggest toy from the scammer carnival games. “I’m like a magnate for them.” He nudged me with his elbow, and I clicked with my tongue nudging him back. I wasn’t sure how or when somewhere between Ace starting to tickle me and me trying to fight him, I got pinned on top of the front of the car. Hovering over me Ace smirked.

“You know you can’t beat me on playing fight, right?” He let go of my arms and I slowly rose propping on the car while Ace stood in front of me.

“This doesn’t mean that I can’t try.” I teased as I tried to sneak attack him by poking his belly, but he was fast to catch my wrist before I could do it.

“Nice try, doll.” He leaned closer to me. I smirked back and stood up lifting my head to have a better look at him. I was so lost in our little banter that I didn’t realise straight away how close we were to each other. Thanks to the reflection of the lights coming from the city below us I was able to observe his face as much as the light allowed me. I was so used to his freckles that sometimes I forgot how adorable they made him look. The way they were covering mostly the top of his cheeks and a little bit of his nose. And those dark brown eyes, which were staring back at me, I could get lost in them for hours. As much as I tried to fight the building desire in me my eyes trailed down to his lips – his full, perfectly shaped lips. Licking my lips I swallowed hard. This close I could feel his hot breath that was causing goosebumps all over my body. With all my willpower I tore apart my eyes from his lips back to his eyes. But his eyes weren’t on me, they were on my lips. My breath got caught in my lungs as his eyes shoot back to mine. ‘Kiss me.’ I was screaming inside my head. ‘Kiss me. Touch me.’ I was burning, I wanted to scream at him on the top of my lungs. ‘Take me right here and right now.’ He wasn’t stupid, I knew Ace could feel it too, the desire, the burning, the increased pulse – the pleading in my eyes.

“Don’t look at me like this.” He said, his face was hard like a stone and unreadable. His tone was cold and pleading at the same time. Even his eyes – there was something I have never seen in them before, but I couldn’t read what it was.

“Look at you how?” I couldn’t find my voice as my mind was running wild.

“Don’t play dumb, doll. It doesn’t suit you.” His head turned to the side as he looked at the sky.

“I’m not playing dumb, Ace. Look at you how exactly?” I could feel the pulse and the blood rushing through all over my body. Instead of responding he took a step back and went to open the passenger door of the car.

“Let’s call it a night, plus it’s cold.” He held the door open and didn’t even bother to look at me, while his tone was stern and cold. I licked my lips and nodded slowly. Of course, the same old repeating cycle. I slowly walked to the opened door of the car and stood in front of him.

“How did I look at you, Ace?” I didn’t want to fight with him, so I kept my voice smooth and calm. Turning his head away from me again, I grabbed his jaw gently and made him face me. He snatched his face from my hand immediately. “Answer me.” I knew how I looked at him, I knew what I wanted, and I still did, but I wanted him to say it and to give me an answer to why it was a problem. After all... this friendship was doomed from the beginning and after tonight maybe there wasn’t going to be anything left from it.

“(Y/N) get in the car, before you make me do something I would regret later..." He exhaled deeply. "Please...” I got in the car, and he closed the door.

The drive to my place was long... too long. The entire time we didn’t said anything to each other. If I knew that this night would have ended like this, I would have never gone out. The whole car ride I was fighting with the tears in my eyes. I couldn’t sort a single thought of mine and I didn’t want to deal with it right now. All I wanted was to get home.

My street came to the view, and I unbuttoned the seatbelt before he even stopped the car in front of my place. The moment he stopped the car I jumped out of it without saying a word to Ace, and ran as fast as I could to my building entrance slamming the door shut after me the same way he slammed my heart to the ground tonight.

END NOTE: Damn… what a roller coaster, right? I hope you got enjoyed it and had fun with their little conversations and moments as much as I did while writing it. This chapter was supposed to be even longer but I decided to leave the bitter feeling for the next one hihihi <3

As always feel free to comment, like, reblog as your opinion matters for me! Big shout out to my biggest and loud supporters @3rtxaa @orange-milky @lilink @worstgenerationloser @yourfavarii @chimjii (I’m so sorry if I’m forgetting to tag someone please I appreciate and see every one of you and I send you all the love and hugs in the world 🥹🫶) THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING AND SUPPORTING THIS STORY. I’m not sure it it was going to get far without you.

writing, format & dividers © eand47 fanart @a_phu14 on IG ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[estellan0vella]

All I'll Ever Ask: L. Mh Lee Minho x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 20K

CW: Anxiety, Soft Minho, Protective Minho, Protective SKZ, Abuse of Power, Attempted Blackmail, Fighting, Violence

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part I

The faint hum of Minho’s desk lamp fills his room in the Alpha Phi frat house, casting a soft, golden glow over the cosy chaos. The walls are adorned with a mix of framed photos, band posters, and a whiteboard covered in scribbles about everything from anatomy diagrams to doodles of what you suspect are the other frat members with Changbin being drawn criminally short. His scent lingers in the air, clean, warm and something uniquely Minho.

You’re curled up in his desk chair, legs tucked beneath you, wearing a pair of black yoga shorts and one of his oversized grey hoodies. It hangs loose on your frame, enveloping you in its softness. The cuffs drape over your hands, one of which fidgets idly with a silicone pop-it on the desk. The other spins the anxiety ring on your left hand, the repetitive motion grounding as your thoughts churn.

The blue light glasses perched on your nose catch the light from your laptop, reflecting faintly in the otherwise dim room. Your eyes skim over the open document in front of you, but frustration clouds your focus. You mutter under your breath, venting half-formed curses at the assignment that’s been tormenting you for days.

Behind you, Minho lounges on the bed, the epitome of relaxed confidence. He’s shirtless, the sharp cut of his collarbones and lean torso illuminated in the lamp’s glow. His grey sweatpants sit low on his hips and a hefty veterinary science textbook rests on his lap, though his dark eyes stray from it every few seconds to watch you. Amusement dances in his gaze as he takes in your fidgeting fingers and the tiny crease between your brows.

“You’ve been sighing like a goddamn storm cloud for the past ten minutes,” he drawls, closing his book with a soft thud and leaning back against the headboard. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby?”

You groan loudly, your head dropping to the desk with a dramatic thump. The pop-it lets out a weak little pop under your cheek. “This assignment fucking sucks,” you mumble, your voice muffled against the desk. “I didn’t even get to pick the topic. It’s like Jae—the professor’s assistant—has it out for me. He fails me on everything he marks. Everything.”

Minho frowns, sitting up straighter, his full attention now on you. “You’re kidding me. Everything? Even the ones I’ve looked over?”

You lift your head, tugging off your glasses and shoving them into your hair. “Yes! Every single one. I swear, it’s personal at this point. Maybe he hates my writing style or something, but I’m at my wit’s end.”

His brows knit together, a spark of protective frustration flashing across his features. “That’s total bullshit. I’ve read your work. It’s good, really good. Better than half the crap I’ve had to peer review for my classes.”

“I don’t know, Minho.” You exhale heavily, leaning back in the chair and rubbing the bridge of your nose. “It’s just I don’t know how to deal with it. Every time I see another failed mark, it feels like I’m suffocating.”

Minho swings his legs off the bed and strides across the room in a few easy steps, his bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floor. He plants himself behind you, his hands landing gently on your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles at the base of your neck, working out the knots with practised ease.

“You should talk to your professor,” he says, his voice low and steady, the kind of tone that makes you feel safe no matter how stormy your thoughts get.

“Easier said than done,” you grumble, though you can’t help but lean into his touch. The warmth of his hands is soothing, and your eyes flutter shut as he kneads the tightness away. “What am I even supposed to say? ‘Hey, Professor, your assistant has a personal vendetta against me, and it’s driving me insane.’ That won’t sound whiny at all.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, his fingers still working their magic on your shoulders. “You don’t have to put it like that, silly girl. Just explain how you feel about your work. Writing’s subjective, right? Maybe Jae’s seeing it differently than you intend.”

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze. His expression is soft, serious, and utterly focused on you. It’s the kind of look that makes your chest ache in the best way. “You really think that’ll help?”

“I think it’s worth a shot.” He leans down, brushing his lips against the top of your head. The kiss lingers, warm and reassuring. “And if it doesn’t, at least you’ll know you did everything you could. But for the record? Jae’s a dick.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, a shaky but genuine sound. You rest your head back against his stomach, his skin warm through the hoodie. “I didn’t tell you I failed because I didn’t know how to handle it. Just the thought of admitting it made me feel like I was going to lose it.”

His arms wrap around you loosely, his chin coming to rest on top of your head. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs, frustration lacing his voice, though it’s not aimed at you. “Don’t carry that shit on your own. You’ve got me, remember?”

You let out a self-deprecating laugh, craning your neck to look up at him again. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty good at internalizing everything. Panic spiral, rinse, repeat.”

“Fucking stop that,” he says firmly, though a teasing smile tugs at his lips. He flicks your forehead lightly, making you scrunch your nose in mock annoyance. “That’s what I’m here for. You don’t have to do this alone, sweetheart.”

You poke his stomach in retaliation, a smirk breaking through your frustration. “Fine, Mr. Fix-It-All. I’ll talk to the professor. But if I have a meltdown, it’s on you to clean up the mess.”

Minho grins, ruffling your already messy hair. “Deal. Just don’t let some asshole make you think you’re not amazing at what you do. You’re a badass, baby. Don’t forget that.”

You smile, the tension in your chest easing just a little. “Thanks, Minho.”

“Always, sweetheart,” he replies, pressing another kiss to your head.

The fidget cube spins endlessly in your fingers, its clicks and rotations keeping time with the chaotic rhythm of your thoughts. The assignment taunts you from the glowing laptop screen, each word blurred by the mental block you can’t seem to break through. The harder you try to focus, the more it feels like your brain is wading through quicksand. Anxiety bubbles under the surface, rising like steam in a pressure cooker, and every fidget is a small attempt to keep yourself from boiling over.

Behind you, Minho hasn’t moved. His hands rest lightly on your shoulders, his thumbs occasionally brushing soothing circles over the fabric of his hoodie that you’ve claimed as your own. His quiet presence is grounding, though he says nothing for a while, letting the silence stretch between you. Finally, he sighs with a dramatic exhale, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck.

“Okay, that’s enough of this,” he declares, voice laced with playful exasperation. His hands grip your shoulders firmly but gently. “Let’s figure this shit out, baby. Up you get.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, your eyebrow arching in disbelief. “What do you mean, ‘up you get?’ I’m trying to—”

Before you can finish, he swivels the desk chair around and slides it back a few inches, his movements deliberate and fluid. He pulls you gently but insistently to your feet, his fingers wrapping securely around your wrists. “I mean,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument, “you’re sitting in my lap. Maybe if I hold onto you, that overthinking brain of yours will actually chill the fuck out for two seconds.”

He plops into the chair, tugging you down with him as if this is the most natural solution in the world. He settles you sideways across his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. You try to frown at him, but the warmth of his chest against your back and the way his thumbs rub slow, reassuring circles against your sides make it impossible. “You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, though your body instinctively relaxes against his.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder and peering at the laptop screen. His dark eyes scan the glaringly blank document with mock seriousness. “Alright, first step, let’s go through your old assignments. I want to see exactly what kind of bullshit this Jae guy’s been pulling. Maybe there’s a pattern.”

“Fine,” you mumble, reaching for the laptop and navigating to the folder where you’ve stashed every paper you’ve written for this class. The tension in your shoulders begins to creep back, but before you can start spiralling again, Minho reaches over to grab the mug of tea he made for you earlier. He presses it into your hands with a quiet but firm, “Drink.”

You roll your eyes but obey, the mug warming your palms as you take a sip. The faint sweetness of the tea soothes your throat, and something in Minho’s unwavering presence keeps you tethered as he leans forward to scroll through the latest assignment. His brows furrow almost immediately, his jaw tightening as his eyes skim over Jae’s comments.

“What the fuck?” he mutters, his voice low and incredulous. “This isn’t even constructive criticism. ‘Lacks depth?’ ‘Needs better support for arguments?’ That’s it? No examples, no explanation of what he wants? How the hell are you supposed to improve if he’s not giving you anything to work with?”

Your fingers abandon the fidget cube, moving to spin the anxiety ring on your left hand instead. Minho doesn’t miss the subtle shift. His gaze flicks to your restless fingers, and he lets out a soft sigh, pulling back slightly. “Okay, fuck this.”

Before you can protest, he closes your laptop and sets it on the desk, his movements decisive but careful. Grabbing the silicone pop-it toy from the mess of trinkets on the desk, he guides you up and leads you to the bed with an ease that leaves no room for argument.

He drops onto the mattress, leaning back against the headboard, and pulls you into his lap again. His arms wrap securely around you as he presses the pop-it into your hands.

“Here,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “Pop this thing until you feel like you can breathe again. No overthinking, no staring at that laptop. Just you and me, baby.”

You rest your head against his shoulder and the first pop of the toy echoes faintly in the quiet room, followed by another, and another. The rhythmic motion gives your restless hands something to focus on, and slowly, the tightness in your chest starts to loosen.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Minho speaks again, his lips brushing against your hair as he does. “Next lecture, you’re gonna talk to him, okay? We’ll figure out exactly what you want to say together. No stressing over it by yourself.”

You let out a short laugh, tilting your head to glance up at him. “So, now we’re scripting confrontations? Is that what we’re doing?”

“Well, yeah,” he says with a grin, clearly enjoying himself. “We both know you’re not gonna do it without a script. Let’s not pretend. We’ve walked around Target five times before you let me ask a worker for help finding something. Oh, and how about all the times I’ve had to complain about your coffee order? Honestly, I deserve a medal.”

“Minho—”

“No, no, I’m not done,” he says, his grin widening. “I see one tomato on your plate? Boom, gone. Not on my watch. And let’s not forget the time I literally did your return for you because you couldn’t even walk into the store because you were so anxious about being inconvenient. That’s right, baby. Boyfriend of the year, right here.”

Despite yourself, a laugh bubbles out of you, light and free. You shake your head, poking him in the chest. “You’re so fucking annoying, you know that?”

“And yet,” he says, dipping his head to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “you love me for it.”

You don’t reply, but the way you lean into him speaks louder than words. He grins, grabbing the remote off the nightstand and flicking on the TV. The screen lights up with a true crime documentary, and he drapes a blanket over both of you.

“Now,” he says, pulling you closer against him, “watch some freaky shit while you pop that thing. We’ll deal with Jae later. Right now, it’s just you and me.”

You press a kiss to his jaw, settling into his embrace as the documentary begins. The sound of the pop-it fills the quiet gaps between the narrator’s voice, and for the first time in days, the storm inside you feels like it’s clearing. With Minho’s arms around you, you can almost believe that everything will be okay.

The lecture hall is quieter now, the echoes of chatter and rustling papers fading as the last of the students filter out in pairs or small groups. The hum of their voices lingers faintly in the hallway before dissolving into silence, leaving you alone in the cavernous space with Jae, the professor’s assistant. He’s at the front of the room, gathering his things, his laptop, a few loose papers, and a sleek leather satchel slung carelessly over one shoulder.

You sit frozen at your desk in the middle of the room, the cool metal of your anxiety ring spinning beneath your fingers as you fidget. Minho’s words from the night before replay in your mind, his voice steady and reassuring: Just talk to him. You take a slow, steadying breath, tugging the edges of his hoodie closer around you. The weight of it feels protective, grounding.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you steel your nerves and make your way down the aisle. Your black flares swish softly with each step, and the cropped white turtleneck you’re wearing feels almost too revealing under the fluorescent lights, despite the oversized hoodie hanging loose around your shoulders. As you approach the desk, your stomach churns with a mixture of nervousness and determination.

Jae glances up as you stop in front of him, his expression neutral at first, then shifting into something harder to read, his gaze flickers over you briefly before settling on your face. “Oh, hey. Y/N, right?” His tone is casual, almost too casual. “You need something?”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and clearing your voice. “Yeah, um, I wanted to talk about my grades. I’ve been failing a lot of assignments, and I just… I want to understand where I’m going wrong.”

His head tilts slightly, his lips curling into what might have been a polite smile if not for the strange glint in his eyes. “Grades, huh?” He sets his bag on the desk and leans back against it, crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright. What specifically do you want to know?”

You hesitate, feeling small under his scrutinizing gaze, but you push through. “Well, I’ve been reading the feedback you’ve given, but it’s not very specific. It’s hard to know what to fix when all I see is stuff like ‘lacks depth’ or ‘needs better support.’ I was hoping you could explain what you’re looking for, so I can improve.”

Jae’s lips twitch into something that isn’t quite a smirk, but it makes your stomach twist uneasily. “Hmm,” he hums, considering you for a moment. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’ve been struggling. But, you know, sometimes it’s not just about the writing. It’s about making the right… connections.”

Your brow furrows, confusion overtaking your nerves for a moment. “Connections?” you repeat, the word foreign in this context.

He shrugs, his smirk growing more pronounced. “Let’s cut to the chase,” he says, his voice lowering as he straightens up, stepping a little closer. “You’re a smart girl. If you really want to turn those grades around, there’s an easy way to make it happen.”

Your stomach twists harder now, unease blossoming into something closer to alarm. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice cautious, even as the pit in your stomach deepens.

He leans in, his tone conspiratorial, as if he’s letting you in on some great secret. “You fuck me, just once, and I’ll make sure you never fail another assignment. Ever.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, the air in your lungs vanishing as the room seems to tilt slightly. Your brain stalls, struggling to process the sheer audacity of what he just said. “I—” you start, your voice catching in your throat. “I’m sorry, what?”

Jae chuckles softly, as if this is all a joke and you’re the one who doesn’t get it. “You heard me. Look, it’s not a big deal. Just one time. You do that, and I’ll make sure your grades are golden for the rest of the semester.”

Your heart pounds so loudly in your ears that his next words almost drown beneath it. The bile rises in your throat, and your voice, when it comes, is small, shaky, barely your own. “That’s… that’s not appropriate.”

He shrugs, unfazed, his smirk never faltering. “Think about it,” he says smoothly, his tone bordering on smug now. “I’m giving you an out here. No more stress, no more late nights trying to figure out what I want. Just one night, and it’s all good.”

The room feels suffocating, the fluorescent lights too bright, the walls too close. Your fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, your body trembling as adrenaline courses through you. “I—I need to go,” you stammer, taking a shaky step back.

Jae’s smirk deepens as he watches you retreat, his posture still casual, as if he hasn’t just turned your world upside down. “Suit yourself,” he calls after you, his tone infuriatingly light. “But don’t say I didn’t offer.”

You don’t stay to hear more. Grabbing your bag, you bolt for the door, your steps echoing loudly in the empty lecture hall. The hallway feels colder, the bile rising higher in your throat as your vision blurs with tears of humiliation and anger. His words play on a loop in your head, the weight of them crushing.

You don’t stop walking until you reach the Alpha Phi frat house, your breathing shallow and uneven. Your chest is tight, every inhale feeling like it catches somewhere in your ribs. Your hands tremble as you fumble with the front door, struggling to get it open. The chill of the evening air still clings to your skin, but the panic burning in your chest is what drives you forward.

Minho’s at his lectures, you know that much. But Jisung should be home, and if anyone can help you calm down, it’s him. Just the thought of someone familiar, someone safe, is enough to keep you moving.

The door swings open, and the warm hum of voices greets you. Laughter spills out from the living room, a sound that feels almost surreal against the chaos in your mind. Chan is the first to notice you as you step inside, his easy laugh fading the moment he spots you. He’s sitting on the couch with Seungmin, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Changbin, all of them mid-conversation, but his eyes lock on yours instantly.

“Y/N?” Chan’s voice shifts, concern threading through it as he stands quickly. His brows knit together as he takes in the wide, glassy look in your eyes and the way your hands clutch tightly at the edges of Minho’s hoodie. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

The question cuts through the fog in your mind, but only barely. The words you need are trapped in your throat, jagged and sharp, refusing to come out. You feel frozen, the weight of the panic pressing down harder, your chest heaving with shallow breaths.

Chan is already moving, crossing the room in a few strides. He places a firm but gentle hand on your arm, his touch grounding. “Hey, come here,” he says softly, his voice steady and sure. “Let’s sit down.”

He guides you to the couch, motioning for the others to clear the space. “Guys, out. Now.”

There’s no hesitation, no argument. The others exchange quick glances but don’t question him. Seungmin and Jeongin head upstairs, Hyunjin and Changbin following close behind. Their laughter and chatter are gone now, replaced by the quiet weight of concern that lingers in the room.

Felix stays, though, settling on the couch beside you as Chan crouches in front of you. His warm, freckled face is creased with worry, his hands resting lightly on his knees as he leans closer.

“You’re on the verge of a panic attack, aren’t you?” Chan asks gently, his tone calm but firm and you nod. “That’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything right now, alright? Just focus on me and Felix.”

Felix nods, his expression soft and understanding as he shifts closer. “We’ve got you, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Just breathe, love. We’re right here.”

You nod faintly, but the tears that have been threatening to fall spill over now, streaking hot down your cheeks. Your trembling hands clutch at the oversized hoodie, the fabric twisting under your grip. The room feels too bright, too still, but then Chan wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a firm, steadying hug.

“You’re safe,” Chan whispers, his voice right by your ear. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. You’re not alone.”

Felix shifts closer, his warmth pressing against your other side. His arm drapes gently around your shoulders as he leans his head against yours. “Just let us be here with you,” he murmurs, his accent soft and lilting. “Don’t worry about saying anything.”

The weight of their presence is overwhelming in the best way, their warmth wrapping around you like a cocoon. You let yourself lean into them, the tears coming harder now as the tidal wave of panic begins to crest. For a moment, you feel like you might drown in it, but their voices pull you back.

The sound of footsteps draws your attention briefly, and you glance up to see Changbin approaching, something small and colourful in his hand. It takes a second for your blurry vision to clear enough to realize what it is: your fidget cube. He holds it out to you silently, his dark eyes warm with understanding.

“I thought you might need this,” Changbin says softly, his voice steady but gentle.

You take it with trembling hands, managing a faint nod of thanks as he gives you a small, reassuring smile before retreating back upstairs. The familiar feel of the cube in your hands helps anchor you, its smooth surfaces and clicking mechanisms giving your fingers something to focus on.

Chan’s hand rubs slow, soothing circles on your back as he keeps his voice low and steady. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Just keep breathing. Deep breath in and out. That’s it.”

Felix hums softly, a sound almost like a lullaby as he presses a kiss to the side of your head. “You’re not alone. We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

Minho sits in the middle of his animal behaviour lecture, slouched low in his seat, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Normally, this class keeps his attention, discussions about operant conditioning, animal instincts, and behavioural patterns are usually right up his alley. But today, the professor’s droning voice feels like background noise. His mind is restless, caught somewhere between the monotony of the lecture and the clock on the wall, which seems to tick slower every time he looks at it.

He pulls out his phone, thinking maybe a quick scroll will distract him when it vibrates in his hand. A call from Changbin. Minho frowns. Changbin doesn’t call unless something’s wrong. His stomach twists as he answers, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder.

“Yo, what’s up?” he says, keeping his voice low. He glances around to make sure the professor hasn’t noticed him.

“Minho,” Changbin’s voice is quiet but laced with urgency. “You need to get back to the house. Now.”

Minho straightens in his seat, his body tensing. “What? Why? What’s going on?”

“It’s Y/N,” Changbin explains, his words coming fast. “She showed up looking for Jisung, but he wasn’t here. She’s in the living room with Chan and Felix now. Man, she looked like she was about to have a full-blown panic attack when she came in.”

Minho’s grip tightens on his phone. “Is she okay? Did she say anything?”

“No,” Changbin says, his tone grim. “She’s in that, you know, that nonverbal state she gets into sometimes when it’s bad. I gave her her fidget cube, but it’s not really helping. She’s completely shaken.”

“Shit,” Minho mutters under his breath, his mind already racing. He shoves his notebook and pens into his bag without caring about the mess. “Stay with her. I’m leaving now.”

“Chan and Felix are with her,” Changbin reassures him. “But yeah, hurry, man. She needs you.”

“I’m on my way.” Minho’s voice is clipped as he ends the call, already standing and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He doesn’t glance back at the professor, doesn’t care about the glares he gets from classmates as he manoeuvres his way out of the row. He takes the stairs two at a time and bursts into the hallway, his boots thudding against the tiled floor as he cuts through campus at a near jog.

His thoughts race alongside him. The image of you, wide-eyed, trembling, on the verge of breaking, plays over and over in his mind. He twists the rings on his fingers absentmindedly, picturing the way you’ve done the same when anxiety takes hold. He knows those rings are as much for you as they are for him. The thought makes him walk even faster.

By the time he reaches the Alpha Phi house, his chest is tight, and his breathing is shallow, not from exertion, but from the urgency pressing down on him. He doesn’t bother with his usual calm entrance, throwing the door open with enough force to make it bang against the wall. His eyes immediately scan the space, locking on the living room.

You’re curled up on the couch, the oversized hoodie you borrowed from him drowning your frame. Your knees are drawn up to your chest, your fingers twitching against the fidget cube Changbin handed you. But the small, rhythmic clicks aren’t soothing you the way they should. Your shoulders are stiff, your breathing shallow.

Chan is sitting beside you, his body turned toward you, his hand resting lightly on the back of the couch as if ready to intervene at any moment. Felix is on your other side, his soft, freckled face a mask of quiet concern as he leans close. Neither of them says anything when Minho steps into the room.

Chan stands, nodding toward Minho in silent understanding. “She hasn’t said anything,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low. “But she’s not in a good place.”

Felix glances up briefly, offering a small, reassuring smile before turning his focus back to you.

Minho doesn’t waste a second. He drops his bag to the floor, stepping around Chan to sit beside you. His dark eyes sweep over your face, taking in the tear tracks on your cheeks, the way your lips tremble even though you’re not speaking. His heart clenches, but he keeps his voice steady and soft.

“Hey,” he murmurs as he settles beside you, leaning forward slightly. “It’s me. I’m right here.”

You don’t respond, your gaze fixed on the fidget cube in your hands. Your fingers fumble with it, twisting and clicking aimlessly, but it’s clear it’s not enough. Minho doesn’t push. He knows you won’t meet his eyes or speak until you’re ready.

Instead, he extends a hand, holding it steady in your line of sight. “C’mere, baby,” he says gently. “Take my hand. You don’t have to do anything else.”

For a moment, you hesitate. Then, slowly, your trembling fingers let go of the cube and slide over his palm. You don’t look at him, but you begin twisting the rings on his fingers, your movements careful, deliberate. Minho releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“That’s it,” he says softly, his other hand resting lightly on your knee. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Felix leans closer, his hand brushing over your arm in a soothing motion. “We’re all here for you. Take your time.”

The room feels quiet, but it’s not heavy. It’s the kind of silence filled with understanding, the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak of the couch the only sounds. Minho stays still, watching as you twist his rings, your breathing begins to slow. The tension in your shoulders eases a fraction, but it’s clear you’re still struggling to ground yourself.

Minho leans in slightly, his thumb tracing small circles over your knee. “Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart,” he says softly. “No rush. Just let me know you’re here, okay?”

Your grip on his hand tightens briefly. An unspoken answer. Minho feels a wave of relief crash over him, though he doesn’t let it show. He just adjusts his position slightly, keeping himself as close to you as possible without crowding you.

As the minutes tick by, the room remains still except for the faint sound of your fingers twisting Minho’s rings. The cool metal shifts smoothly under your touch, catching the light with every turn.

Minho’s presence is unwavering. His dark eyes are steady, warm, and full of quiet reassurance, never leaving you. He waits, giving you the space you need to exist in this moment, no expectations, no pressure.

He’s the one to break the silence, his voice low and soft, with that familiar teasing edge that always makes you feel lighter. “So, this is where my hoodie went.”

The words are simple, but they land like a soft anchor, pulling you gently back toward the present. Your lips twitch just barely, a hint of a smile ghosting across your face. It’s fleeting, but Minho catches it, and the weight pressing on his chest loosens just a fraction.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he continues, leaning his head back against the couch with a casual air. His tone carries a playful warmth as if he’s inviting you to share a little moment of normalcy with him. “You look cute today. Those flares and that crop top? Already killing it. But you add my hoodie?” He smirks, lowering his voice to a murmur like he’s letting you in on a secret. “Sweetheart, I could just fucking eat you.”

This time, the smile on your face lingers a little longer, though your focus stays on his hands, your fingers still moving over the rings. Minho doesn’t push for more. He’s patient, letting you take these small, steady steps toward feeling like yourself again.

After a moment, he shifts slightly, brushing his knee against yours as he speaks again, his tone casual but inviting. “I’m making sweet potato noodles tonight. You wanna stay over?”

You nod, the motion small but deliberate, and something in his chest softens. His hand squeezes your knee lightly in acknowledgement.

“Good,” he says with quiet certainty. “Can’t have you missing out on my culinary genius. You’d be devastated.”

Before the warmth of the moment can settle completely, the front door bangs open, and the sound of loud, stomping footsteps fills the house. Minho doesn’t even flinch, but you tense slightly until a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

“Seungmin called me!” Jisung declares, practically bounding into the living room with the kind of chaotic energy only he could bring. His pale green hair bounces as he moves, and his expression is a mix of exaggerated determination and genuine concern. “I’m here to save the day and my best friend from the suffocating void that is anxiety!”

Felix, who has stayed quiet until now, chuckles softly as he stands from the couch. “Alright, Ji, she’s all yours. I’ll make some tea.”

Jisung steps aside to let Felix pass, then all but dives into the now-empty spot on your other side. He lands with a bounce, his knee knocking gently against yours as he turns to face you fully.

Chan gives your shoulder a brief squeeze before heading toward the kitchen with Felix, the two of them disappearing behind the swinging door. The sound of the kettle clicking on echoes faintly, a comforting background noise.

Now alone with Minho and Jisung, you glance up briefly, your eyes meeting Jisung’s for the first time. His usual playful grin is softened, though his energy is as unmistakably Jisung as ever. “Hey,” he says, his voice a little quieter now. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head, the movement small but definitive.

“Okay,” Jisung replies immediately, not missing a beat. His tone is light, free of any judgment. “What about throwing things? Crying? Hitting something? Hitting someone?”

Your fingers falter on Minho’s rings at the word someone. It’s a tiny pause, so subtle most people wouldn’t notice, but Minho and Jisung aren’t most people. Their eyes meet briefly over your head, an unspoken exchange passing between them.

“Alright,” Jisung says gently, shifting his tone. “No pressure. We’ll just sit here and vibe.”

You don’t respond, but your hands resume their rhythm, twisting Minho’s rings in a familiar pattern. Minho leans closer, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch is light and brief, but it lingers just enough to remind you he’s here.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Minho murmurs, his voice steady and grounding. His thumb resumes its slow, soothing circles on your knee. “Whenever you’re ready, we’re here.”

Jisung, never one to let a moment of silence sit too long, starts humming under his breath. The tune is random, a little chaotic, but it’s so unmistakably him that it feels like a soft tether pulling you further out of the fog. He adds exaggerated beatboxing noises, throwing a dramatic drumroll into the mix for good measure.

“Better than Spotify, huh?” he quips, nudging your arm lightly with his elbow. “I can do requests, too, if you’re into, like, anxiety-friendly bangers.”

A tiny laugh escapes before you can stop it, barely audible but real. Minho’s gaze flicks to you, his lips twitching into the faintest smile as he catches the sound.

“There she is,” Jisung says triumphantly, leaning closer with a grin. “You laughed. That means you’re stuck with me now.”

Minho smirks, resting his head lightly against the back of the couch. “You heard him, sweetheart. You’re officially stuck with us. Might as well give up and let us take care of you.”

You don’t respond, but you lean ever so slightly into Minho’s side, your weight shifting closer to him. His arm moves instinctively, wrapping around your shoulders and holding you securely against him.

The sound of the kettle clicks off in the kitchen, and a few moments later, Felix reappears, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea. He sets it down on the coffee table, his gentle smile returning as he hands one to you.

“Chamomile,” he says quietly.

You take the mug with both hands, the heat radiating through your palms grounding you further. The room is quiet again, filled only with the faint hum of Jisung’s off-key humming and the steady presence of the three people around you. 

“Come on,” Minho murmurs, leaning in slightly. “Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”

You blink up at him, your hands hesitating over his fingers for just a moment before you let them fall away. He stands smoothly, his movements deliberate but unhurried, and extends a hand toward you. You take it wordlessly, your fingers slipping into his, and he gives a gentle tug, guiding you to your feet.

“Good girl,” he says softly, his lips curving into the faintest smile as he squeezes your hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”

You follow him out of the living room, the familiar feel of his hand grounding you as he leads the way. Jisung throws an exaggerated thumbs-up from his spot on the couch, grinning as if he’s just overseen a major life event. You catch the faint sound of him humming something ridiculous under his breath as you leave.

The walk up the stairs is quiet, the hum of the house filling the silence between you. The faint creak of wood beneath your steps feels oddly comforting. By the time you reach Minho’s room, you’re already exhaling a little easier. The sight of the rumpled bedspread, the carefully cluttered desk, and the small pile of your fidget toys stacked in a corner feels like stepping into safety.

Minho closes the door softly behind you and steps closer, his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you sorted and comfy.”

He moves to his dresser, pulling open a drawer and rifling through it before he pulls out one of his oversized jumpers and a pair of black basketball shorts. He sets the clothes on the bed and turns back to you, his expression softer now, his eyes scanning your face.

Stepping closer, he rests his hands lightly on the hem of your hoodie. “Can I?” he asks quietly, his voice gentle.

You nod, your fingers still clutching his rings. His movements are careful as he peels the hoodie off your frame, lifting it over your head and pushing it off your shoulders. He folds it automatically, setting it on the chair nearby before his hands find the hem of your cropped turtleneck.

He pauses, his eyes meeting yours briefly, silently checking in. When you nod again, he pulls it over your head just as gently, leaving you in your lace bra. His eyes flicker to yours again, scanning for any hint of discomfort, but he doesn’t linger.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, crouching slightly to help you step out of your flares. The fabric pools at your feet, and he scoops it up, tossing it onto the same chair.

He holds the shorts open for you, guiding the waistband up with steady hands before he reaches for the jumper. The oversized fabric swallows you as he pulls it over your head, the scent of him wrapping around you instantly. It’s soft, warm, and comforting in a way that makes your shoulders relax just a little more.

“Better?” he asks, his fingers brushing lightly over your arms, the touch tentative but grounding.

You nod, a small but sure movement, and he smiles faintly before stepping closer again. His hands move to your hair, unclipping the bun that’s come loose. The strands tumble down messily, and he works through them with careful fingers, smoothing out tangles with an ease that speaks to how often he’s done this for you.

Once he’s finished, he tilts his head slightly, studying you with that quiet, unwavering gaze. “You wanna talk about it?” he asks softly.

You shake your head and he doesn’t press.

“Okay, you hungry?”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, your voice barely audible when you speak. “A little. That sweet potato noodles offer still on the table?”

“For you, baby? Obviously. We’ll go cook now, or you can sit and look pretty while I cook. Hmm?”

You nod again, a small, fleeting smile tugging at your lips.

“Good.” He presses a light kiss to the top of your head, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “Grab one of your fidget things, yeah?”

You reach for the silicone pop-it on the desk, the familiar texture calming as you clutch it in your hand. Minho takes your free hand again, leading you back downstairs to the kitchen.

The space feels lively when you step inside. Jisung is perched on a step stool, his head half-buried in a cupboard as he mutters something unintelligible. Boxes and bags clatter faintly as he rummages, and he lets out a dramatic groan.

“There’s no fucking Oreos left!” Jisung whines, turning to face the room with his hands thrown up. “Who eats all the Oreos and doesn’t replace them? That’s a crime against the Geneva Convention! An actual war crime!”

Minho rolls his eyes, steering you toward one of the stools at the kitchen island. You sit down quietly, the pop-it resting in your lap as your fingers press it rhythmically, the soft popping sound blending into the warm chaos around you.

Jisung bounds over, clutching a bag of popcorn triumphantly. He wraps his arms around your shoulders in a dramatic hug, leaning his head against yours. “Bestie! You’re alive. I missed you. I mean, you were gone for like five minutes, but still.”

You huff softly, the sound almost like a laugh, and Jisung grins before plopping onto the stool beside you. “Alright, let’s vibe.”

Minho is already at work, his movements practised and fluid. Sweet potatoes, spinach, sesame oil, and a variety of spices pile onto the counter as he pulls ingredients from the fridge. His hands move with precision as he peels a sweet potato, the rhythm of the peeler scraping against the skin oddly soothing.

“Can I get in on the noodles?” Jisung asks, watching Minho work with wide eyes. “I mean, you’re dating my best friend, so like you feed her, you have to feed me. It’s the law”

Minho doesn’t even look up. “Not how it works, you scavenger.”

Jisung clutches his chest dramatically. “So cruel. So heartless. I’m starving, Minho!”

“You just raided the cupboard!” Minho shoots back, but he sighs, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll make extra. But you’re doing the dishes.”

“Deal,” Jisung says instantly, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

The warm, savoury scent of sesame oil fills the room as Minho starts cooking, the soft sizzle of vegetables hitting the pan adding to the comforting atmosphere. You sit quietly, watching him, the pop-it still in your hands. He glances at you occasionally, his gaze softening each time he sees the tension in your fingers easing.

Jisung nudges you lightly, his grin infectious. “You know he’s showing off, right? I bet he doesn’t go all out like this when it’s just him.”

“Shut up,” Minho mutters, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You let out a quiet laugh, the sound small but genuine, and Minho’s shoulders relax slightly at the sound. He tosses the sweet potato noodles lightly in the pan, the smell of garlic and spices filling the kitchen as he turns to you with a smile that feels like home. In this moment, with the warmth of the kitchen and the familiar banter around you, the lingering weight in your chest feels just a little lighter.

The room is bathed in the soft, golden glow of Minho’s desk lamp, its warm light casting a cosy hue over the space. The faint blue glow of the TV on the wall flickers, illuminating the dim room as Corpse Bride plays, its melodic score filling the air. You’re seated cross-legged on Minho’s bed, a steaming bowl of vegetarian ramen cradled in your lap, the comforting aroma of miso broth mingling with the warmth of the room.

Minho sits beside you, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, his own bowl resting in his hands. He’s shirtless, as usual, the smooth planes of his chest catching the soft light, and his black sweatpants hang low on his hips. His hair is slightly mussed, strands sticking up in different directions like he’s been running his fingers through it all day. He looks comfortable, utterly at ease, but his eyes flick toward you more than the TV, observing you with quiet attentiveness.

You’re wearing one of his oversized black t-shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on your frame, paired with a set of lacy green boyshorts and your favourite Alice in Wonderland ankle socks. Your hair is clipped up haphazardly, stray strands framing your face, and Minho can’t help but notice how you tug at the loose fabric of the shirt every now and then as if grounding yourself in its softness.

“Dunno why we don’t eat ramen like this every day,” Minho says, breaking the quiet. His voice is casual, a playful warmth weaving through his words as he slurps up another bite of noodles. “This shit’s perfect.”

You hum in agreement, twirling noodles around your chopsticks, though the motions are absentminded. Your bowl is loaded with colourful vegetables, tofu cubes, and the rich, flavorful broth he tailored just for you, separating the ingredients in the pan like second nature to keep it vegetarian. It’s something he always does, unprompted, and it warms you, even when you don’t have the energy to say so.

As the movie continues, Minho keeps stealing glances at you, his sharp eyes catching the subtle ways you’re quieter than usual—the way your chopsticks hover over the bowl, the way you push a piece of tofu around without eating it. His brow furrows slightly. He knows you too well to miss the signs.

“So,” he says finally, his tone light but laced with curiosity, “wanna tell me why you’re not going to your lectures?”

Your hand freezes mid-twirl, the noodles slipping back into the bowl. Your shoulders stiffen slightly, but you don’t look at him. Instead, your gaze fixes on the TV, the animated characters moving through the dim glow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Minho quirks an eyebrow, setting his bowl down on the nightstand with deliberate movements. He shifts to face you more fully, one leg bending as he props himself up on his elbow. “Two weeks,” he says, his voice dropping to something firmer. “You haven’t been to a single fucking class”

You shrug, your eyes still glued to the screen. “I just haven’t felt like it.”

“Uh-huh,” he replies, not buying it for a second. “Let’s try that again. Did you talk to the assistant? What’s his name- Jae?”

At the mention of the name, your reaction is immediate. Your shoulders tense, and your grip on the chopsticks tightens slightly. Minho notices, of course, his sharp eyes narrowing as he sits up straighter.

“Okay, so you did talk to him. What happened? Did he insult your work? Call you stupid? What?”

You keep stirring the broth, your chopsticks moving aimlessly as if they might somehow distract him. The weight in the room seems to press down harder, the background noise of the movie fading into nothing.

Minho leans forward, the mattress shifting under his weight as he watches you closely. “Did he touch you?”

“No!” you say quickly, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. “No, Minho, nothing like that.”

He studies you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what’s going on. The tension in his shoulders relaxes just slightly, but the concern etched across his face doesn’t fade.

“Alright,” he says slowly, his voice steady and careful. “But he did something. Something that’s got you avoiding your fucking lectures. So, what did he say? Verbatim.”

You shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “Min, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

His jaw tightens, and his hand flexes briefly against the bedspread. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, leaning back against the headboard as his eyes flicker over you. He doesn’t push. Not yet. But the silence feels heavier now like he’s waiting for you to crack.

“You spoke to the guy,” he says after a beat, his tone quieter but no less insistent. “And now you won’t even go to class. That feels to me like something happened.”

“Min, please,” you whisper, your voice carrying a hint of exhaustion like the weight of this has been pressing on you for days.

He leans forward again, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His lips linger there, soft and warm, before he pulls back. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper now.

You nod faintly, but your lips press into a thin line, and Minho knows you’re not ready. He watches you for a moment longer, his hand brushing lightly against your knee in a silent show of support. Then he leans back into the pillows, his body shifting as he rests his arm behind his head.

“Alright,” he says quietly. “But just so we’re clear, you’re not going through this alone. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

You nod again, still not meeting his eyes. Your fingers tighten slightly around the bowl, but you don’t speak, and Minho lets the conversation drop. For now.

The room feels quieter, the muted colours of the TV casting soft shadows across the walls. Minho reaches for his bowl again, taking another bite of noodles as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t push, doesn’t press, but his presence is steady, a quiet reminder that he’s here.

The weight in the room doesn’t lift entirely, but the warmth of Minho beside you, the gentle hum of the movie, and the familiarity of the space are enough to make it manageable. And for now, that’s enough.

You’re curled up against Minho, your face nestled against his chest, one hand loosely resting on his side. His oversized shirt engulfs you, the hem riding up slightly to reveal the curve of your hip as you shift in your sleep. The blanket drapes lazily over you both, but Minho’s mind is far from the peace that your quiet form exudes.

He lies still for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. The way your brow smooths out in sleep, the soft flutter of your eyelashes against your cheek. It all tugs at his heart. But beneath the warmth he feels for you is a simmering frustration, not directed at you but at the situation. Something happened.

He can feel it in the way your laughter doesn’t come as easily, in the way you poke at your food more than you eat it, and in the way you’ve avoided your lectures for two weeks. And whoever caused that? They’re going to regret it.

Carefully, he begins untangling himself from you, moving with the kind of precision only Minho can manage. He lifts your arm gently, resting it against the pillow, and pulls the blanket higher over your shoulders.

Brushing a strand of hair from your face, he lets his fingers linger briefly against your temple before standing. The glow from his phone illuminates his path as he grabs it from the nightstand, padding silently out of the room. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, leaving you to rest.

The hallway is dim, lit faintly by the golden glow of a lamp someone left on. Minho moves with purpose, his steps quick but quiet as he makes his way to Felix’s room. A sliver of light spills out from under the door, and the faint sound of typing reaches his ears. Felix is still awake.

Minho knocks once, sharp but not loud, before twisting the handle and stepping inside. Felix is sprawled across his bed, his laptop propped on a pillow in front of him as he scrolls through what looks like a recipe website. His face lights up slightly when he sees Minho, but the curious tilt of his head suggests he knows this isn’t a social call.

“What’s up?” Felix asks, closing the laptop and sitting up, his brows furrowing as he takes in Minho’s tense expression.

Minho closes the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest. “Y/N trusts you.”

Felix blinks, slightly taken aback. “I’d say so, yeah. Why?”

Minho runs a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose as he chooses his words. “Good. I need you to find out what her dickhead professor’s assistant said to her two weeks ago.”

Felix frowns. "I'm gonna need more context"

Minho steps forward, his voice dropping as he explains. “The day she came here. On the verge of a panic attack. You and Chan were with her, yeah? Something happened before she showed up.”

Felix nods slowly, his posture straightening. “Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

Minho’s expression hardens. “Before she came here, she spoke to her professor’s assistant. That guy’s been failing her on assignments she absolutely should’ve passed. Since then? She hasn’t gone to a single journalism lecture. Not one. She won’t tell me what he said or did, and I need to know. She trusts you. So, you talk to her, get her to open up, and then you tell me.”

Felix leans back, crossing his arms as he studies Minho. “You’re asking me to break her trust?”

“Yep,” Minho says bluntly, not missing a beat.

Felix snorts, though there’s no humour in it. “Why not go to Jisung? She tells him everything.”

Minho shakes his head, his tone flat. “Because Jisung’s gonna lose his shit. He’d storm into her lecture hall, make a scene, and scare the crap out of her. She doesn’t need that.”

“And you’re not gonna overreact?” Felix asks, his brows arching sceptically. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re already planning murder.”

Minho’s lips curve into a cold smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. “Oh, I’ll react. But not in front of her. Jisung would go full ‘big dramatic protector’ and freak her out. Me?” He taps his temple with a finger. “I fix problems at the root. Like a plucking a weed.”

Felix tilts his head, considering this. “So you’d break his nose?”

“Maybe a rib,” Minho muses, his tone conversational. “Depends on what he did.”

Felix exhales sharply, shaking his head, though the corner of his mouth twitches. “Fair enough. But is she okay? Like, actually okay?”

“Some days are better than others,” Minho admits, his voice softening slightly. “But her anxiety’s been worse lately.”

Felix leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “If this assistant guy’s the reason break something for me, too. Preferably twice.”

Minho chuckles lowly, though the humour doesn’t reach his eyes. “Consider it done.”

Felix nods, his voice steady. “Alright. I’ll talk to her. It might take time, though. You know how she is about opening up.”

“I know,” Minho says, running his hand through his hair again. “But you’ve got that gentle-ass aura or whatever. She trusts you. Just ease into it. When she tells you, you tell me. Then I’ll take care of the rest.”

Felix nods again, his gaze firm. “You’ve got my word. I’ll handle it.”

Minho pushes off the door, clapping Felix lightly on the shoulder before heading for the door. He pauses with his hand on the handle, glancing back. “You’ve got her, right?”

Felix’s expression softens, his voice resolute. “Always. And you?”

Minho nods, his tone firm. “Always.” With that, he slips out of the room, his footsteps quiet as he heads back to yours, his mind already turning over what needs to be done.

For now, he’ll focus on making sure you feel safe. But the second he knows who’s responsible for the weight you’ve been carrying, he’ll make damn sure they regret it.

A few nights later, Minho's room is enveloped in a hushed stillness, the only sound the rhythmic rise and fall of Minho’s breathing as he sleeps beside you. His arm is tucked under the pillow, his body curled slightly toward you. For a moment, you watch him, his peaceful expression a stark contrast to the restless storm in your own mind.

You let out a quiet sigh, your fingers brushing against the fidget cube resting on the nightstand. Careful not to disturb Minho, you slip out from under the covers. His oversized t-shirt falls to your mid-thigh, paired with his basketball shorts, your feet protected from the cool floor by your Ravenclaw socks.

Your movements are deliberate, your breath steadying as you take the fidget cube in one hand and tiptoe toward the door. You glance back at Minho one last time, his chest rising and falling with even breaths, before quietly pulling the door shut behind you.

The hallway is dark, save for the faint glow of a nightlight someone left plugged in near the stairs. You pad quietly toward the kitchen, the familiar creaks of the floorboards grounding you as you move. When you reach the kitchen, the faint hum of the refrigerator greets you, a soothing backdrop to the clicking of the fidget cube in your hands.

You set a mug on the counter, pulling the kettle from its base and filling it with water. You flick it on, the soft whoosh of heat filling the space as you reach for the box of chamomile tea. Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap the tea bag and drop it into the mug, but the repetitive motion of brewing steadies you. By the time the kettle clicks off, your breathing has evened, the warmth of the mug in your hands a comforting anchor.

As you turn toward the stairs, the faint glow from the living room catches your attention. Curious, you step closer and peek in. Felix is sprawled on the couch, one leg hanging over the edge as he leans forward, a controller in his hands. The faint sounds of gunfire and the hum of voices filter through his headset, blending into the quiet of the house.

He glances up as you approach, his face lighting up in recognition. He pulls off his headset, pausing the game. “Hey,” he greets, his voice soft but warm. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

Felix pats the cushion beside him. “Come sit. I’ve got tea if you want more.”

You smile faintly, lifting your own mug in response. “Already covered.”

“Smart girl,” he says with a grin. “Come on, sit down anyway. Let me ruin your night with my terrible gaming.”

His easy humour coaxes a small smile out of you as you settle onto the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. Felix leans back, draping one arm over the back of the couch, his posture casual but his gaze attentive. He studies you for a moment as you sip your tea, the faint steam rising in soft curls around your face.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?”

You shake your head, your gaze falling to the fidget cube in your lap. “No, just too much on my mind.”

Felix nods, his tone light but knowing. “You’ve been like this a lot lately. Wanna talk about it?”

You hesitate, your fingers fidgeting more rapidly with the cube. “It’s nothing. Just... stuff.”

“Uh-huh.” Felix raises a brow, his voice softening further. “Does this ‘stuff’ happen to involve a certain professor’s assistant?”

Your hands freeze, the cube stilling in your lap for just a second before your fingers start moving again. You don’t look at him, focusing instead on the swirling tea in your mug.

Felix leans forward slightly, his expression calm but serious. “Hey, no pressure. I just want to help. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

The words fall out before you can stop them, quiet and trembling. “He… he said something.”

Felix doesn’t move, doesn’t react, his gaze holding yours. “Okay,” he says softly, his voice encouraging. “What did he say?”

You bite your lip, your grip tightening on the cube. The words catch in your throat before you force them out. “He said if I- if I fucked him, he’d make sure I passed all my assignments.”

The confession hangs heavy in the air, the silence that follows almost deafening. You feel your chest tighten, your breathing uneven as you clutch the cube harder. “I didn’t know what to do,” you continue, your voice breaking. “I just- I left. I haven’t gone back to class since.”

Felix exhales slowly, his hand reaching out to rest lightly on your knee. His voice is calm, steady, but there’s an undercurrent of quiet anger. “That’s a lot. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that. That’s so fucked up.”

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, your grip trembling. “I felt so stupid. Like, I should’ve said something, but I just froze.”

“Hey,” Felix says firmly, leaning closer. “Stop that right now. None of this is your fault. That guy’s a fucking creep, and you did the smartest thing you could’ve done. You got out of there. That’s not stupid.”

His words make your chest ache, the tears spilling over despite your best efforts to hold them back. “I keep thinking, what if I see him? What if he’s in the hallway? I can’t even think about going back. I just-”

Felix cuts you off gently, his hand squeezing your knee. “You’re safe, okay? He can’t touch you here. And you’ve got Minho, Jisung, me, the whole fucking house. No one’s letting him near you.”

You sniffle, your breathing uneven as you lean into his words. Felix moves closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. His other hand rubs slow, comforting circles on your back.

“We’ll figure this out, alright?” he murmurs. “No one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t want to. And that guy? He’s gonna regret ever saying that to you. Trust me.”

A weak laugh escapes you, shaky but real, and Felix grins faintly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “There she is,” he says warmly. “Now, let’s finish that tea and get you back to bed. You deserve some rest.”

The late morning sun streams softly through the blinds in Minho’s room, painting the bed in streaks of pale light. The golden glow highlights the tousled strands of your hair spilling across the pillow, the curve of your shoulder peeking out from under the blanket.

You’re curled up, your body angled slightly toward the spot where Minho had been lying just a little while ago. Your breathing is steady but shallow. Not quite the deep rhythm of restful sleep.

Minho stands by the door, his hand resting lightly on the frame as he watches you for a moment. His sharp eyes take in the faint crease in your brow, the way your body shifts under the blankets as if even unconscious, you’re searching for some comfort.

He doesn’t need to ask if you slept badly. It’s written all over you, in the faint shadows under your eyes and the restless energy still clinging to you.

With a quiet sigh, he steps into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him with deliberate care. The faint click echoes softly in the stillness as he heads toward the kitchen, his mind already turning over what he can do to make your morning better.

In the kitchen, Minho moves with his usual precision. He grabs your favourite mug that he bought for you, the Corpse Bride one with the chipped handle you refuse to replace, and sets it on the counter beside his black cat mug.

As he measures out the coffee grounds, the rhythmic clink of the scoop against the machine’s edge fills the room. The aroma of fresh coffee begins to waft through the air as the machine hums to life, steam curling upward.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulls his attention. He glances over his shoulder to see Felix padding into the kitchen, barefoot and dressed in a loose hoodie and sweatpants. His hair is a little tousled, and there’s a slight pink tint to his cheeks, the telltale sign of someone who’s been awake for a while but not quite ready to face the day.

“Morning,” Felix says, his voice soft as he heads for the fridge. “You’re up early. Y/N still out?”

“Trying to sleep,” Minho replies, grabbing the creamer from the counter. “Didn’t have a great night, though.”

Felix pauses mid-reach, the fridge door cracked open, and turns to look at him. “Yeah, about that.” He closes the fridge door, leaning against it with crossed arms. “I know what happened.”

Minho freezes, his hand hovering over your mug, the creamer unopened. His head turns slightly, his expression carefully neutral. “When did she tell you?”

Felix’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Last night. She couldn’t sleep, came downstairs to make tea. We talked.”

Minho places the creamer down slowly, turning to fully face Felix. “What did she say?”

Felix exhales softly, his fingers drumming against his forearm. “She told me what that assistant said. Jae.” He pauses, watching Minho’s reaction. “He propositioned her. Said if she slept with him, he’d make sure she passed all her assignments.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Minho’s shoulders tense, his fingers curling into a loose fist before he forces them to relax. He doesn’t speak immediately, instead turning back to the counter. He picks up the creamer, pouring it into your mug with a steady hand as if the ritual of making coffee can anchor him.

“She told you that?” he asks finally, his voice low.

Felix nods, stepping closer to the counter. “Yeah. She was shaking when she said it. Sniffling, trying to hold it together. I didn’t push her. It just came out.”

Minho sets the creamer down again, reaching for the pumpkin spice syrup you love. He adds a careful amount to your mug, stirring it slowly with a spoon. The metallic clink against the ceramic is the only sound in the room for a few beats. When he finally speaks, his voice is tight but calm. “Are you going to tell her you told me?”

Felix studies him for a moment, noting the way Minho’s knuckles tighten slightly around the spoon before he sets it down. “Are you going to tell her that you know?”

“Not yet,” Minho says, his voice softening. “Once I've dealt with it, then I will. If I tell her before she might spiral”

Felix leans against the counter, his expression contemplative. “You’re scarily good at this boyfriend thing.”

“Practice,” Minho mutters, grabbing a napkin to wipe the rim of the mug. He looks up then, meeting Felix’s gaze. “Let me guess. You’re wondering if I’m planning to fight him.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, smirking faintly. “No, I’m assuming you’re planning to fight him.”

A humourless smile tugs at Minho’s lips. “I’m not going to fight him. Not yet. I’m going to have a quiet, friendly conversation with him. He’s going to quit, and when he does, I’ll tell her.”

“And his nose?” Felix asks, his voice light but his eyes sharp.

Minho’s smile turns cold, his tone conversational. “Oh, his nose is absolutely getting broken. A little incentive to stay away.”

Felix’s grin widens slightly, though his eyes remain dark. “Good. She’s been holding it in, Min. She’s worried, maybe her anxiety’s making her think you’ll blame her or something, but it’s really weighing on her.”

Minho exhales through his nose, his fingers tightening slightly around the handle of your mug. “I see it,” he admits quietly. “The way she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. The way she keeps saying she’s fine, even when she’s not.” He pauses, his voice softening further. “She carries too much. Always trying to be invisible, not to bother anyone.”

Felix tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. “She’s just like Jisung, you know? Same anxious brain. Same need to please everyone. You’re basically dating the female version of him.”

Minho lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he picks up the mug. “Thanks for that image. Really needed it.”

Felix smirks, crossing his arms again. “You’ve got this, though. Just be careful. Don’t make her feel like she’s not in control.”

“I know,” Minho says, his tone firm. “Thanks for telling me. I’ve got her.”

Felix watches him leave, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “I know you do,” he murmurs, the kitchen falling quiet again.

The journalism lecture hall empties slowly, students filing out with the shuffle of papers and muted conversations that fade into the hallway. The sound of the last student’s footsteps echoes faintly, the large room gradually falling into silence. Outside, Minho leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his face impassive but his eyes sharp and dangerous. 

A few students glance at him curiously as they leave, their expressions ranging from confused to wary, but he doesn’t acknowledge them. His focus is fixed entirely on the room and the man still inside it. As the door swings shut behind the last student, the faint click marks the beginning of what Minho has come to do.

Straightening, he steps inside with deliberate, measured strides, the sound of his boots on the polished floor echoing faintly in the quiet. The atmosphere in the lecture hall shifts immediately, the air thickening as if sensing the weight of his presence.

At the front of the room, Jae is bent over his desk, sorting through a stack of papers with a distracted expression. The sound of Minho’s approach draws his attention, and he looks up, his face neutral at first. But when he sees Minho, his brows furrow slightly, confusion flickering across his features.

“Can I help you?” 

Minho doesn’t answer immediately. He stops a few feet from Jae’s desk, his stance casual but his eyes locked on Jae’s with a piercing intensity. He tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Jae, right? The professor’s assistant?”

Jae straightens slightly, frowning. “Yeah, that’s me. I don’t think I’ve seen you in the class. Are you-”

“Oh, I’m not in the class,” Minho interrupts smoothly, his voice cold and edged with quiet steel. “My girlfriend is, though. Y/N. The one you tried to blackmail into fucking you for a passing grade.”

Jae’s face drains of colour instantly, the papers in his hands falling to the desk with a soft rustle. His mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish gasping for air. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammers, his voice faltering.

“Don’t,” Minho cuts in sharply, his tone dropping into something lethal. “Lie to me.”

Jae swallows hard, his hands twitching as they grip the edge of the desk. The flicker of panic in his eyes is unmistakable, but Minho’s unrelenting gaze holds him in place. After a tense beat, Minho jerks his chin toward the chair behind the desk.

“Me and you are gonna have a little talk,” he says, his voice steady but cold enough to freeze the air between them. “So sit down. Now.”

Jae hesitates, his eyes darting toward the door as though calculating his chances of escape. Minho doesn’t miss the movement. He takes a single step closer and slams his hand down on the desk with enough force to send the papers scattering to the floor.

“I said. Sit. The. Fuck. Down.”

The command sends a visible jolt through Jae, who stumbles backwards before nearly tripping into the chair. He sinks into it hastily, his movements frantic and uncoordinated, and looks up at Minho with wide, trembling eyes.

Minho’s hand lashes out suddenly, gripping the back of Jae’s head before slamming his face down against the desk with a sickening thud. The impact sends a burst of blood streaming from Jae’s nose, and he lets out a muffled cry of pain, his hands scrambling to push himself upright.

Before he can make another sound, Minho clamps a hand over his mouth, silencing him. “That,” Minho says evenly, his voice steady but laced with venom, “is for terrifying my girlfriend.”

Jae’s muffled whimpers grow louder, his tears mingling with the blood dripping onto the desk. Minho leans closer, his grip on Jae’s head tightening as his voice drops into a cold whisper.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You will quit as the professor’s assistant, and you will tell the professor exactly what you did. Every girl you’ve tried this shit with. Every word you said to Y/N. Because if you don’t, I swear to fucking God, you’ll never walk again. Are we clear?”

Jae nods frantically, his head jerking up and down against Minho’s hand as tears stream down his face. Minho’s eyes narrow as he grabs Jae’s nose, twisting it sharply enough to draw another strangled cry of pain. 

“Words, asshole,” Minho sneers, his voice cutting through Jae’s sobs like a blade.

“Yes!” Jae blurts, his voice trembling with desperation. “I’ll quit! I’ll tell him! I swear!”

Minho releases his grip abruptly, stepping back slightly as he watches Jae clutch his nose with trembling hands. Blood streams between Jae’s fingers, staining his shirt and dripping onto the papers scattered across the desk. Minho tilts his head, his expression unreadable as he studies the pitiful sight in front of him.

“Why her?” Minho asks suddenly, his voice quiet but cutting. “Because she’s quiet? Because she’s anxious? Is that why you thought you could pull this shit with her? Thought she'd be too scared to tell anyone?”

Jae doesn’t respond, but the panicked look in his eyes gives Minho all the confirmation he needs. Without warning, Minho slams Jae’s face against the desk again, the impact louder this time. Jae cries out, his voice muffled as blood pools on the desk beneath him.

“You made a mistake,” Minho says evenly, his tone almost conversational. “Because you upset her. And you know what happens when people upset my girlfriend?”

Jae whimpers, his body trembling as he clutches the edge of the desk. 

Minho leans closer, his voice dropping into a cold whisper. “When people upset her? Make her scared to go to class? Take advantage of their authority over her? I get pissed off. And when I get pissed off-” He trails off, gesturing to Jae’s bloodied face with a small, humourless smirk. “Well, let's just say this is me holding back.”

Jae sobs openly now, his hands shaking as he tries to stem the flow of blood. Minho tilts his head slightly, his gaze dark and unrelenting.

“You will never talk to her again,” he says, his voice quiet but resolute. “You won’t look at her, you won’t breathe near her. Because if you do, I won’t stop here. I’ll find Chan, Changbin, and Jisung. And trust me, they’ll be far less forgiving than I’ve been. The whole fucking frat house will come for you"

Jae lets out a strangled squeak, shaking his head frantically as Minho straightens. “And just so you know,” Minho adds, his tone turning icy, “the only reason you’re walking out of here today is because my girlfriend is too soft-hearted to want you hurt. But me? I don’t have that problem.”

Without waiting for a response, Minho wipes his hands on his jeans as if brushing off dirt, his movements calm and deliberate. He doesn’t spare Jae another glance as he turns on his heel and walks out of the lecture hall, the door swinging shut behind him with a decisive click.

The room falls silent again, save for Jae’s ragged breathing and muffled sobs, his blood pooling on the desk beneath him as he clutches his broken nose.

Minho steps into his room at the frat house, closing the door behind him with deliberate quiet. The air inside is warm and familiar, filled with the soft scent of lavender from the diffuser you insisted he get. You’re completely buried beneath his blankets, only a few strands of your hair spilling out over the pillow giving away your position.

He pauses in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you. The anger that had been burning hot in his chest earlier is still there, but now it simmers, dulled by the sight of you curled up and peaceful, your breathing steady and rhythmic. He exhales softly, letting the tension in his shoulders ease just slightly.

Walking over, he crouches by the bed, his movements careful and precise. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. His fingers linger there for a moment, his touch soft.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm. “I need to talk to you. Then you can go back to sleep.”

You stir slightly, your body shifting under the blankets. Your eyes flutter open, hazy with sleep, and you blink at him, your face scrunching up in that familiar way he finds so endearing. “Min?” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s me,” he says gently. “Sit up for me, okay? Just for a little bit.”

You groan softly, a sleepy protest, but you push yourself up, the blankets pooling around your waist as you sit. Your hair is a mess, a halo of stray strands framing your face, and your cheeks are puffy from sleep. Despite everything, Minho thinks you look impossibly adorable.

“What’s going on?” you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Minho moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his expression serious but calm. He’s careful as he speaks, watching your reaction. “I spoke to Jae today,” he begins. “He told me what he did.”

The sleepiness in your eyes vanishes instantly, replaced by something sharp and anxious. You stiffen, your body going still. “Did you hurt him?” 

Minho tilts his head, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk. “I only broke his nose a little bit.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, you seem caught between shock and something else. Maybe relief, maybe disbelief. 

“He’s going to tell the professor what he did to you,” Minho continues, “and to any other girls he tried to pull this shit with. Your assignments will probably get regraded, and you’ll finally get the marks you deserve.”

You nod again, but you still won’t meet his eyes. Instead, your fingers find a loose thread on the blanket, picking at it restlessly. Minho watches you for a moment, his heart tightening in his chest. He stands briefly to grab your silicone pop-it from the desk, then sits back down and places it gently in your hands.

“Here,” he says softly. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You hesitate, your fingers moving over the pop-it’s silicone bubbles in a steady rhythm. The soft popping sound fills the quiet, and your breathing begins to steady as you focus on the motion. Finally, you speak, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I just- I felt gross,” you say, the words trembling. “I tried so hard on those assignments, Min. I put everything I had into them, and he didn’t even see that. He didn’t see my work. All he saw was my body.”

Your hands tighten around the pop-it, your fingers pressing harder against the bubbles. The sound feels louder now, punctuating the silence. “I didn’t even feel like a person,” you continue, your voice breaking slightly. “I felt like an object. Like that’s all I was to him. My intelligence didn’t matter. My hard work didn’t matter. All that mattered was if I’d fuck him to pass.”

Minho’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. His gaze stays fixed on you, his hands clenched into loose fists in his lap as he fights the urge to let his anger show. This isn’t about him, it’s about you, and he needs to let you say everything you need to.

Your voice drops even lower, trembling with emotion. “And I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d think less of me. Which is stupid, I know, but-”

“It’s not stupid,” Minho interrupts gently, his tone firm but kind. “Baby, you have anxiety. I know you know I’d never think less of you, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for your brain to believe it. That’s not your fault.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you seem frozen. Then Minho shifts closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles on your back as you continue fidgeting with the pop-it, the steady rhythm grounding you.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice soft. “It must’ve been so hard, keeping all that in. But you’re here, baby. You got through it.”

You hesitate for a beat, then admit quietly, “I told Felix.”

Minho keeps his expression neutral, pretending he doesn’t already know. “You did?”

You nod against his chest. “Yeah. He was so nice about it. He didn’t get mad, just comforted me.”

Minho smiles faintly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “That was really brave of you, sweetheart. My brave girl. How did I get so lucky?”

You pull back slightly, your lips quirking into the tiniest of smiles. “You calmed me down at that awards night,” you say, your voice soft. “Told me I was beautiful. Jisung set me up on a date with Felix because he thought you’d just fuck me around, and then you showed up at my apartment after the date, and, well, now here we are.”

Minho chuckles, shaking his head. “Ah, yes. That’s how I got so lucky. I was so fucking pissed at Jisung for that, you know.”

You laugh softly, the sound quiet but genuine. “I remember. Jisung caught us kissing that night in my apartment, and he was so mad.”

Minho smirks, leaning closer. “And then you locked him in the living room so we could have sex in your room.”

Your giggle grows louder, and Minho grins, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “There she is,” he murmurs, his voice full of affection.

Minho shifts slightly, his weight sinking into the bed as he tilts your chin up with gentle fingers, guiding your gaze to meet his. His thumb brushes lightly over your jawline, the motion soothing, almost absentminded, as if his hand belongs there and nowhere else.

“Baby,” he starts, his voice low but steady, every word deliberate. “I need you to know something.”

You swallow hard, your hands pausing their rhythmic popping on the silicone toy in your lap. His tone is so certain, so resolute, that it demands your full attention. His thumb moves again, a tender stroke against your skin that feels grounding.

“I will never think less of you for anything,” he continues, his gaze boring into yours. “Not for your anxiety, not for being scared of something, none of it. Okay?”

Your throat tightens, and you try to blink back the sting in your eyes, but it’s no use. A tear slips out, trailing silently down your cheek. Minho’s hand moves immediately, his thumb brushing the tear away as if he’s wiping away more than just a drop of salt water, like he’s trying to erase the weight of your fears entirely.

“That shit doesn’t make you weak,” he says, his voice soft but fierce. “And it sure as hell doesn’t make me love you any less.”

You nod silently, your throat too tight to speak, but your eyes stay locked on his. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t rush you to respond. He just stays there, his hand cradling your cheek like you’re the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

Minho shifts closer, his voice dropping even lower, softer but no less firm. “I’m not gonna hold it against you for having fears or for assuming what I might feel. I get it, baby. Your brain runs a million miles a minute sometimes, and that’s okay. But all I ask-” He pauses, his thumb tracing slow circles on your cheek. “is that you ask me how I feel, okay? Could you do that for me, my silly girl?”

You nod again, finally finding your voice, though it’s small and trembling. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I need,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a faint, reassuring smile. His hand lingers on your cheek for a moment longer before he lets it drop, resting it lightly on your knee. “That’s all I’ll ever ask.”

You look down at the pop-it in your lap, your fingers resuming their soft, steady movements over the silicone bubbles. The gentle popping sound fills the quiet space between you, grounding you as you process his words. You take a deep, shaky breath, letting it out slowly, and when you glance back up at him, there’s a faint hint of playfulness in your tone.

“Did he cry?” you ask tentatively, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Minho’s smirk is instant and smug, his brows lifting slightly. “I think he might have pissed himself a little.”

The laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it, light and genuine. It catches you off guard, and the sound feels foreign after so much tension, but it’s freeing. Minho’s grin widens, clearly pleased with himself.

“I’m serious,” he says, his tone teasing but proud. “I’m scary.”

You giggle again, shaking your head. “I know. My scary guard dog.”

“Damn fucking straight,” Minho replies, puffing his chest out slightly in mock bravado. “Returning your food when the order’s wrong, fighting off creeps who think they have a chance with you, taking back tops when they’re the wrong size. I’ve got this shit down to a fine art. Honestly, Hyunjin should be jealous. I could pass his art history major for him, I’m that good. And let’s not forget, I’ve got better hair.”

You snort. “I don’t know about that,” you say, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Hyunjin’s hair is pretty majestic.”

Minho gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like you’ve just delivered a mortal wound. “Okay, fine,” he concedes with exaggerated flair. “Hyunjin’s hair is like a fucking Renaissance painting. But I’m prettier, right?”

You tilt your head, pretending to consider it, and Minho narrows his eyes at you in mock suspicion. “Well,” you draw out, your lips twitching. “You’re sexier. And scarier.”

Minho’s smirk returns in full force, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Damn right, I am.”

You laugh again, this time louder, freer, the sound filling the room with a warmth that hadn’t been there before. Minho leans forward, his hand coming up to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger there, brushing lightly against your cheek as he presses a kiss to your forehead. His lips are warm and firm, lingering just long enough to feel like a promise.

When he pulls back, his expression softens, the smugness melting into something gentler. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of affection. “I knew you had good taste.”

“I guess I do,” you reply quietly, your tone playful but sincere.

Minho leans back slightly, his hand sliding down to rest over yours. His fingers lace through yours easily, the pop-it still cradled in your other hand. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence between you filled only with the rhythmic popping of the toy and the soft hum of the world outside the window.

Then, Minho breaks the silence, his tone turning light again. “You know,” he says, his eyes narrowing playfully, “Jisung owes me a massive apology. For that date setup with Felix. Biggest cockblock of my life.”

You shake your head, your smile lingering as you glance down at your intertwined hands. The warmth of his touch, the steadiness of his presence, it feels like a lifeline, pulling you back to a place of safety.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice almost a whisper. “For everything. For being here. For listening.”

Minho squeezes your hand gently, his expression softening again. “Always, baby. You don’t have to thank me for that. It’s just what I do.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache, but this time it’s not from sadness. It’s from the overwhelming relief of knowing you’re not alone, of having someone who sees all of you, the messy, complicated parts, and chooses to stay anyway.

Minho shifts closer again, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes gazing into yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, the words a quiet vow. “And I protect what’s mine. Always.”

The evening air carries a crisp coolness, just enough to brush against your skin but not bite. The streets are alive with the hum of student life, clusters of laughter and chatter spill out of bars and restaurants, mixing with the occasional sound of a passing car. You walk arm-in-arm with Jisung, his boundless energy an anchor in the buzz of activity.

Your black leather flares swish with each step, the soft click of your black heeled boots echoing against the concrete. The strapless white tube top you’re wearing fits snugly, accentuating your silhouette, and the small white purse hanging from your shoulder ties the outfit together.

Jisung looks as effortlessly cool as ever. His black cargo trousers and white sneakers give him a laid-back edge, and the Eminem t-shirt beneath his black zip-up hoodie looks perfectly lived-in. His beanie is pulled low over his messy hair, the soft fabric framing his expressive face, while the silver chain around his neck catches the glow of the streetlights as he gestures animatedly. His free hand flails as he sidesteps a group of loud, tipsy students, pulling you closer to him.

“We’re two pretty best friends,” he announces suddenly, his voice brimming with exaggerated pride.

You laugh, leaning into his arm as your smile stretches wide. “We even have matching mental illnesses.”

“Exactly!” Jisung cheers, throwing his free hand up like he’s proclaiming your shared anxiety as a badge of honour. “Anxiety crew, represent!”

His exuberance draws a few amused glances from passersby, but you don’t care. His humour, his ease, it’s exactly what you need to shake off the heaviness of the week.

You tilt your head, glancing down at his outfit as you ask, “How come we’re all in black and white? Did you guys plan this?”

Jisung groans dramatically, his entire body exaggerating the motion as he throws his head back. “Hyunjin insisted,” he says, his tone dripping with faux exasperation. “Something about ‘aesthetic cohesion’ and ‘timeless elegance.’”

Your laugh bubbles up before you can stop it, the sound mixing with the steady rhythm of your boots clicking against the sidewalk. “That man loves a theme.”

“Loves it way too much,” Jisung mutters, though there’s no real bite in his tone. “You should’ve seen him lecturing Changbin about matching his belt to his shoes. Nearly gave the man an existential crisis.”

The two of you laugh together, the sound easy and light as you approach the bar. The familiar neon sign above the entrance glows a vibrant blue, its light spilling out onto the sidewalk. The steady thump of bass pulses from inside, vibrating faintly through the pavement, and the warm buzz of voices filters through the open doorway. Jisung holds the door open with an exaggerated flourish, bowing slightly as he gestures for you to enter.

The bar wraps around you in a wave of sound and warmth. The chatter of patrons, the clink of glasses, and the faint, rhythmic beat of music from the speakers create a lively symphony. The air smells faintly of citrus and beer, mingling with the aroma of wood from the polished tables and bar counter.

Your eyes scan the room, searching through the sea of faces until they land on a familiar booth near the back. It’s packed with your group. Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin are crammed together, their laughter carrying even over the din of the bar.

Drinks sit scattered across the table, condensation pooling around the bases of the glasses as everyone gestures animatedly, their hands cutting through the air in exaggerated motions as they talk.

Minho spots you first. His dark eyes light up immediately, and a slow, easy grin spreads across his face. His gaze locks on yours, his expression softening with something unspoken but undeniable.

Felix notices the shift in Minho’s face and nudges Changbin, who slides over to make room in the booth. Felix stands, waving enthusiastically, his signature bright smile beaming at you across the room.

“There’s our power duo!” Felix calls out, his voice carrying above the din.

You and Jisung weave through the crowd, dodging chairs and bodies with ease. When you finally reach the booth, Felix steps aside, his grin widening as he gestures toward the newly cleared space. “Ladies and gentlemen, the anxiety icons have arrived.”

You laugh as you slide into the booth beside Minho, with Jisung quickly claiming the space on your other side. The moment you’re settled, Minho’s arm drapes over your shoulders in a fluid motion, pulling you into his side. The warmth of his body against yours is immediate, his woodsy cologne wrapping around you like a cocoon.

“Hi,” you murmur, resting your head lightly against his shoulder. The noise of the bar fades slightly, muffled by the closeness of him.

“Hi, baby,” he replies, his voice low and smooth, the words sending a ripple of comfort through you. He slides a drink across the table toward you, a strawberry daiquiri with a tiny paper umbrella perched delicately on the rim.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you pick up the glass, the condensation cool against your fingers. You take a sip, the sweet tang of strawberries washing over your tongue, and you hum in satisfaction. “You know me too well.”

Minho smirks, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. “Only the best for my girl.”

The conversation around the table continues, bursts of laughter and teasing filling the booth as the rest of the group dives into their drinks. Chan and Hyunjin are deep in a debate about the best way to pour a draft beer, their hands miming the action with exaggerated gestures. Jeongin and Seungmin watch with amused expressions, occasionally throwing in dry commentary that makes Changbin nearly choke on his drink.

But Minho’s attention never wavers from you. His fingers absentmindedly play with a strand of your hair, twirling it gently before letting it fall back into place.

His other hand rests on the table and you reach over, your fingers brushing against his as you begin to fidget with the cool metal bands. The motion is familiar, calming, and Minho’s lips twitch into a small smile at the gesture.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the noise of the bar. 

Your cheeks warm at the compliment, but you smile, your fingers still toying with his rings. “You’re biased.”

“Damn right, I am,” he replies without hesitation, his grin widening. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

You glance up at him, your smile softening as your eyes meet his. His arm tightens around your shoulders slightly, pulling you closer to his side.

Jisung’s voice cuts through the quiet bubble around you, pulling your attention back to the group. “Hey, are we playing darts or what? I’m ready to kick Changbin’s ass.”

“You couldn’t hit the board last time,” Changbin fires back, his grin mischievous.

“Details,” Jisung retorts, waving a dismissive hand. “This time, I’m fueled by friendship and alcohol.”

The group bursts into laughter, and Minho chuckles softly, his hand brushing over your shoulder. “You wanna play, baby?”

You shake your head, still nestled against him. “I think I’ll sit this one out. I’m pretty comfortable right here.”

Minho’s smirk returns, his voice dropping just slightly as he murmurs, “Can’t blame you. I’m an excellent pillow.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you tease, though the fondness in your tone gives you away.

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Too late.”

The sound of the group heading toward the dartboards fills the booth, leaving you and Minho alone for a rare moment. His fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your face toward his, and his dark eyes search yours with a quiet intensity.

“I mean it,” he says softly, his tone earnest. “You’re stunning.”

Your heart flutters, and for a moment, you forget the noise of the bar entirely. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice almost lost in the hum of the room.

Minho smiles, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips which you happily reciprocate. When he pulls back, his smirk returns, lighter now but no less confident.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with affection. “Always the prettiest one in the room.”

The booth is alive with laughter, the warm glow of the bar's hanging lights casting everyone in soft hues of gold and amber. Drinks clink together as stories flow freely, the kind of energy that only exists when you’re surrounded by the people you trust most.

Felix is mid-story, his hands gesturing animatedly as he recounts one of Hyunjin’s failed attempts at “artistic photography.” Even Hyunjin can’t hold back his laughter as Felix mimics his exaggerated poses, their voices blending into the hum of the crowded bar.

You’re nestled against Minho’s side, his arm draped protectively over your shoulders, anchoring you in the lively chaos. His thumb rubs slow, absentminded circles against your upper arm, grounding you as your fingers toy with the cool metal of his rings. The weight of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing, is a constant comfort.

But then, cutting through the warmth of the moment like a shard of ice, comes the sound of loud, grating laughter. It’s obnoxious and overblown, the kind of noise that demands attention whether you want to give it or not. The entire booth turns instinctively toward the sound, and the moment your eyes land on the source, your stomach plummets.

Jae.

He’s standing near the bar with a group of equally rowdy friends, all of them leaning against each other and laughing too loudly, their voices slurred with the unmistakable edge of too much alcohol. His presence feels like a punch to the gut, and you freeze, your fingers stilling against Minho’s rings.

Felix notices immediately. His laughter cuts off mid-sentence, and his usual bright smile dims into something tight and unreadable. Minho, however, doesn’t even try to mask his reaction. His arm tightens around you, and his dark eyes narrow as they lock onto Jae with a sharpness that could cut through steel.

“Min,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the din of the bar. “Just enjoy the night, okay? Please?”

Minho’s jaw tenses, the muscle ticking as he takes a slow, deliberate breath. He doesn’t respond immediately, and you can feel the controlled anger radiating off him in waves. Before he can say anything, Jae’s voice cuts through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

“There she is!” he shouts, pointing at you, his words slurred but still sharp enough to carry across the bar. “The little slut that ruined my life!”

The world tilts slightly, your vision narrowing as the words hit you like a slap. The booth goes completely silent. The laughter and easy chatter are gone, replaced by a thick, oppressive stillness.

Jae stumbles forward slightly, his friends egging him on with jeers and smirks. “The one who has to send her big, bad football player boyfriend to save the day!” he sneers, his tone dripping with mockery.

Minho stiffens beside you, his grip on your shoulder tightening. His voice, when he speaks, is eerily calm, a quiet storm brewing just beneath the surface. “He’s dead,” he says simply, his tone flat.

Felix doesn’t hesitate. He pushes his drink aside, his movements deliberate as he rises to his feet. “Yup.”

Jae isn’t done, his voice rising above the ambient noise of the bar as he continues his tirade. “She just couldn’t keep her mouth shut or spread her legs! Too pious to fuck me for a better grade, and now look where it’s gotten me.”

The laughter from Jae’s group is harsh and grating, echoing across the room like a bad joke no one asked to hear. The implications of his words click into place for everyone at the booth.

Chan’s usually calm, composed demeanour cracks, his expression hardening into something cold and unyielding. Hyunjin’s jaw drops, disbelief and anger flashing across his face. Changbin’s hand clenches into a fist against the table, his knuckles whitening.

Jeongin and Seungmin's faces go as cold as ice and Jisung, seated beside you, vibrates with barely contained fury, his sharp gaze darting between you and Jae.

“Motherfucker,” Jisung mutters, his voice low but brimming with rage.

Minho doesn’t wait for Jae to speak again. He hops over the table in one fluid motion, his movements calm but with a predatory edge that makes the air feel heavier. Felix follows immediately, his expression grim, and Jisung is right on their heels, his hands already clenched into fists.

Chan curses under his breath, pushing his chair back as he stands. “This is about to turn into a fucking bar brawl,” he mutters, glancing at Seungmin. “Stay with Y/N.”

Seungmin nods, his expression unreadable as he shifts closer to you, sliding into the space Minho just vacated. The others follow the trio, their expressions a mix of anger and determination.

You sit frozen, your fingers trembling as they grip the edges of your purse. The familiar weight of your fidget cube presses against your palm, and you pull it out with shaky hands. The soft clicks and rotations offer a small measure of comfort, but your chest still feels tight, your breaths shallow and uneven.

You drain the rest of your strawberry daiquiri in one go, the sweetness doing little to settle your nerves. Without thinking, you reach for Felix’s abandoned pina colada and take a long sip, the chilled drink momentarily grounding you.

Seungmin’s arm wraps around your shoulders, his touch steady and reassuring. His presence, calm and unflinching, feels like a lifeline as you struggle to keep the panic at bay. He follows your gaze toward Jae, whose bandaged nose is a stark reminder of Minho’s earlier confrontation.

Seungmin’s lips quirk into a faint smirk. “Did Minho do that to his nose?”

You nod, your voice small as you murmur, “Yeah.”

Seungmin huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “He held back.”

The comment draws a weak chuckle from you, the sound shaky but real. Seungmin’s smirk widens slightly as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice dropping into a reassuring murmur. “They’ve got this. Jae doesn’t stand a fucking chance against Minho and Felix. And if the others gets involved?” He grins faintly. “Game over. I mean have you seen Chan's shoulders?"

The words settle over you like a blanket, offering a small measure of comfort. Jae leans against the bar like he owns the place, his arms crossed in mock confidence as he spots Minho approaching with the group behind him. His friends egg him on, their laughter obnoxiously loud as they slap him on the back, goading him with jeers and grins.

“Well, if it isn’t the boyfriend,” Jae sneers, his voice carrying over the bar’s thumping bass. His words are slurred, his bravado clearly fueled by the alcohol in his system. “Here to defend your little slut again?”

The temperature in the bar seems to drop. Minho stops just short of Jae, his hands hanging loose at his sides. His knuckles flex once, the tendons in his hands tightening as though preparing for action. His dark eyes bore into Jae with a calmness that’s far more dangerous than any shouting match could be.

Minho takes a slow, deliberate breath and his neck rolls lazily to one side, a quiet crack breaking through the tension. “You’ve got about three seconds,” he says, his voice low and measured, “to shut the fuck up.”

Before Jae can respond, a blur of motion cuts between them. Jisung surges forward, his fist swinging with everything he has. The impact lands square on Jae’s cheek, a sickening thud that reverberates through the room as Jae’s head snaps to the side. He stumbles against the bar, gripping the edge for balance.

“You fucking asshole!” Jisung snaps, shaking his hand out with a wince. “You don’t get to talk about her like that!”

Jae barely has time to recover before chaos erupts. His friends lurch forward, fists flying wildly, but Chan, Changbin, Felix, Hyunjin, Minho, and Jeongin are faster. The music fades into the background, drowned out by shouts, curses, and the sound of bodies colliding.

Felix moves with a precision that’s almost clinical, his taekwondo training evident in the sharpness of his kicks and punches. One of Jae’s friends lunges at him, but Felix sidesteps effortlessly, delivering a swift kick to the guy’s ribs that sends him sprawling.

“I always forget Felix did taekwondo for like ten years,” Seungmin mutters, his arm steady around your shoulders.

“Twelve,” you correct automatically, your voice shaky but steady as your fingers work furiously at the fidget cube in your lap. The rhythmic clicks and rotations offer a small anchor against the chaos.

Seungmin smirks faintly, sliding a forgotten glass of Sex on the Beach toward you. “Here. Looks like you need this more than Jeongin does.”

You nod, grateful, and take a long sip. The sweetness of the drink calms your nerves slightly, but your gaze remains fixed on the fight unfolding before you. Minho is a force of nature, calm, controlled, and devastatingly efficient. He moves through the fray with a predator’s grace, every punch deliberate and unrelenting.

When one of Jae’s friends tries to grab him from behind, Minho twists effortlessly, slamming an elbow into the guy’s stomach before throwing him into a nearby table.

Hyunjin and Jeongin work in tandem, their usual playful energy transformed into something almost terrifying. Hyunjin distracts one of Jae’s friends with feints and jabs, giving Jeongin the opening to sweep the guy’s legs out from under him. The two share a brief smirk before turning to face the next opponent.

Chan and Changbin are unrelenting, their punches landing with a precision that speaks to years of dealing with troublemakers. One of Jae’s friends charges at Chan, but Chan steps aside at the last moment, letting the guy crash into a table. Changbin follows up with a solid punch to the guy’s jaw, sending him crumpling to the floor.

Jae tries to regain his footing, his face twisted in rage as he lunges at Minho. But Minho is faster. He grabs Jae by the hair, yanking his head back before slamming his face against the edge of the bar. The impact is brutal, the sound of bone meeting wood audible even over the music.

“Enough!” the bartender shouts, slamming his hand on the counter. His voice cuts through the noise like a whip. “Take this shit outside, or I’m calling the cops!”

Minho straightens slowly, releasing Jae, who collapses to the floor in a heap. Blood drips from his already broken nose, staining the floor beneath him as he groans in pain.

Minho doesn’t spare him another glance, his focus shifting as he turns and walks back toward you with a calmness that’s almost eerie. His chest heaves slightly, his adrenaline still running high, but the moment his eyes meet yours, his expression softens.

He holds out his hand, his voice steady but still tinged with adrenaline. “Come on, baby.”

You set the empty glass down, your fingers trembling slightly as you slip your hand into his. His grip is warm, solid, and grounding, and the tension in your chest begins to ease. Minho helps you out of the booth, keeping you close as he leads you toward the exit. The others begin to follow, Chan calling out as they regroup.

“Let’s head back to the frat,” Chan says, his voice firm as he wipes at a smudge of blood on his knuckles.

The group murmurs their agreement, Felix throwing one last disdainful glance at Jae, who is still groaning on the floor. “Yeah, let’s go,” Felix mutters, shaking out his wrists.

As the group moves toward the door, Minho slows his pace deliberately. Just before stepping outside, he pauses, his eyes cutting down to Jae’s hand, which is splayed weakly on the floor.

Without missing a beat, Minho steps on it with all his weight. The sickening crunch of bone is faint over the music, but Jae’s howl of pain cuts through the room like a blade.

Minho doesn’t look down as he continues walking. His hand tightens slightly around yours, his focus already back on you. The cool night air greets you as you step outside, washing over your heated skin and easing some of the tension from your body. The faint hum of distant traffic mixes with the muffled bass from the bar, the world outside feeling calmer, quieter.

You glance up at Minho as the group starts making their way back toward the frat house. His arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer to his side as you walk. His presence is steady and reassuring, and for the first time since the night began, you feel like you can finally breathe.

“Feel better?” you ask quietly, your voice hesitant.

Minho smirks faintly, his dark eyes glinting in the streetlights. “Not yet,” he admits, his tone low. His arm tightens around you slightly as he adds, “But I will. Once we’re home.”

The frat house is alive with energy as the group spills inside, their voices bouncing off the walls, fueled by adrenaline and a few drinks too many. Everyone heads straight for the kitchen, where Chan takes command like a seasoned general, throwing open cabinets and yanking out bottles.

You lean against the counter, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You bend down, tugging at the zippers on your heeled boots, muttering under your breath when one gets stuck.

Minho, mid-pour with a bottle of vodka in hand, glances at you. His eyes catch on the sight of your Bambi socks, the design peeking out as your boots come off. He snorts, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, the words laced with affection.

You look up, holding one boot in your hand as you stick your tongue out at him. “And you love it.”

“I do,” he says, shaking his head with mock exasperation as he pours pineapple juice into your glass. “Heavy on the vodka, right?”

“Always,” you reply, your lips twitching into a small smile.

Before you can settle, Jisung is suddenly in front of you, his expression unusually serious as he wraps his arms around you in a warm, slightly desperate hug. The smell of his cologne mingles with the faint scent of booze clinging to his hoodie. You melt into him, your hands clutching at the soft fabric of his hoodie as he presses his cheek against yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrug, your face still buried in his shoulder. “I didn’t want to make it a big deal,” you mumble, the words muffled against him.

Jisung sighs, the sound heavy with frustration and concern. “It is a big deal. You’re my best friend. I’m supposed to know this shit.”

You don’t respond, your fingers tightening slightly against his shirt. The weight of the night threatens to creep back in, but the comfort of Jisung’s hug and the chatter around you keeps it at bay.

Minho slides a glass across the counter toward you, the condensation forming small droplets that glisten under the overhead lights. “Here,” Minho says, his voice soft but firm. “Drink.”

You smile faintly, your free hand reaching for the glass. The first sip is cold and sweet, the tang of pineapple cutting through the vodka, and you hum in satisfaction. Minho’s lips twitch into a satisfied smirk as he leans against the counter, watching you.

Chan, standing nearby with his arms crossed, tilts his head as he studies your face. “You alright?”

You glance at him, nodding. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Chan uncrosses his arms, pulling you into a brief but firm side hug. His grip is strong and reassuring, and when he lets go, he places a hand on your shoulder. “Good,” he says simply. “You know this whole house has your back, right? Every one of us.”

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, your voice soft but genuine.

“Damn right we do,” Felix chimes in from the island, raising his glass of rum and coke in a toast. His grin is bright, the kind that could lighten even the darkest mood. “We need our two anxious mascots in tip-top shape.”

Jisung looks at Felix with furrowed brows. “Who’s the second one?”

Minho raises an eyebrow at him, his voice dry. “You, dumbass.”

Jisung blinks once, then twice, before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, makes sense.”

Felix’s laughter is the first to break, and the rest of the room follows, the sound rippling through the kitchen like waves. Minho pours himself a glass of whiskey and coke, the ratios leaning heavily in favour of the whiskey.

He moves behind you, his arm snaking across your chest to pull you gently back against him. The comforting weight of his presence settles over you, and you let yourself lean into him, your head resting against his chest.

“The cube helping you, baby?” he murmurs, his lips close to your ear, the low timbre of his voice sending a wave of calm through you.

You nod, your fingers clicking the toy’s buttons rhythmically. “Yeah. It’s helping.”

Jisung bounds toward the speaker in the corner, pulling out his phone with the dramatic flair of someone announcing their magnum opus. “We need music!” he declares, his fingers flying over the screen.

The opening beats of Hey Daddy by Usher fill the kitchen, the smooth rhythm instantly lightens the atmosphere.

You giggle, sipping your drink as the guys start bopping along to the music. Hyunjin pulls Felix into an impromptu dance, their movements overly dramatic as they spin and pose like they’re auditioning for a music video. Jeongin laughs so hard he nearly spills his drink, and Chan claps along, his grin wide.

Minho keeps his arm snug around you, his free hand resting lightly on your waist. His thumb traces small, lazy circles against your side, his touch grounding. He leans in closer, his voice a quiet murmur against your ear. “You always smell like mango and passion fruit.”

“It’s my shampoo, conditioner, body spray. Everything, really,” you reply with a small laugh, glancing up at him.

“I love it,” Minho says simply, his tone sincere. “And I love you.”

His lips press a kiss to the crown of your head, lingering for a moment. You smile, your fingers tightening around the glass in your hand as you tilt your head back to look at him.

“I love you too,”

Across the kitchen, Chan raises his glass, his voice cutting through the music. “Alright, let’s get super fucked up!”

“And talk about how ugly Jae and his friends are, right?” Felix adds, his grin mischievous as he looks to you for confirmation.

You nod, a sly smile tugging at your lips. “Right.”

Felix leans forward, clinking his glass against yours with a wink. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Seungmin, perched on a stool nearby, takes a sip of his drink before adding dryly, “Jae gives off major bitchless energy.”

Hyunjin nods enthusiastically, his voice light and playful. “Very demure. Very ‘I don’t get any pussy.’”

The night winds down into a comfortable haze, the once-lively frat kitchen now littered with half-empty bottles, abandoned cups, and the remnants of snacks scattered across the counters.

The music is still playing, though quieter now, and the energy in the house has shifted. Laughter is softer, conversations slower, the kind of relaxed vibe that follows a night of good drinks and better company.

Minho’s arm stays firmly around your waist, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your side. His touch is steady, grounding, a quiet promise of safety even as the chaos of the evening fizzles into a low hum. He leans down, his breath brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “Come on, baby. Let’s head upstairs.”

You nod, leaning into him for a moment before he gently guides you toward the hallway. His hand rests lightly on your back, steering you past the remnants of the night.

Jisung is sprawled across the couch in the living room, one arm draped dramatically over his face, muttering something about how Seungmin stole his drink.

Felix, meanwhile, is perched on the coffee table, dramatically belting out the chorus of whatever song is playing, much to the delight of Changbin and Hyunjin, who are egging him on.

Minho chuckles softly as he watches them, shaking his head in amusement before nudging you forward. “Come on, before they rope us into Felix’s karaoke session.”

The climb up the stairs is slower than usual, your legs a little unsteady from the drinks and the lingering adrenaline of the night. Minho keeps a firm hold on you, his hand brushing lightly against your back every few steps as though to remind you he’s there.

You step inside his room, the door clicking shut softly behind you. The room is dimly lit, the warm glow of Minho’s desk lamp casting soft, golden shadows across the walls.

Minho leans back against the door, his eyes fixed on you as you reach for the zipper of your leather flares. The tight material peels away slowly, revealing the long expanse of your legs and your white panties. You pull your top over your head revealing your strapless white bra as you toss the top onto the chair in the corner of the room.

Minho stays where he is, watching you with a look that’s equal parts admiration and hunger. His gaze roams over you, taking in every curve, every line, with a reverence that makes your cheeks warm. His voice is low and rough when he finally speaks. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You glance at him, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you coming to bed?”

He smirks, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that way that always makes your stomach flutter. “Demanding, aren’t we?”

“Always,” you reply, sliding under the cool blankets and settling into the soft mattress.

You watch as Minho pulls his hoodie over his head, revealing the lean lines of his torso. He tosses it aside, then shucks off his cargos with the same ease, leaving him in just his boxers.

When he joins you under the blankets, the warmth of his body seeps into yours immediately. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close until your back is pressed against his chest. His chin rests lightly on the top of your head, and you sigh softly, the tension in your body melting away.

For a while, the room is quiet, the distant hum of voices and music downstairs fading into the background. Minho breaks the silence first, his voice low and steady. “I don’t think he’ll bother you again.”

You hum in agreement, your head turning slightly so you can glance up at him. “I think bouncing his head off a bar and crushing his hand might have been enough of a deterrent.”

“You think so, huh?”

“Yeah,” you reply, your lips curving into a faint smile. “I think he got the message loud and clear.”

Minho shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you properly. His dark hair falls across his forehead, and his expression softens as his fingers brush lightly against your cheek. “I’d kill for you, baby. You need to know that.”

The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze is unwavering, his thumb tracing small circles on your cheek as he continues. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. Absolutely nothing.”

Your breath catches, your chest tightening at the weight of his words. There’s no hesitation, no doubt in his tone, and the intensity of his conviction makes your eyes sting.

You reach for his hand, your fingers brushing over the cool metal of the rings still on his fingers. The familiar motion of twisting them grounds you.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I know, Min.”

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s soft but full of emotion. It’s not rushed, not hungry, it’s steady and sure, a quiet vow in the way he holds you. When he pulls back, his eyes search yours, and a faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “I mean it, you know. You’re everything to me.”

You nod, your fingers still toying with his rings. “And you’re everything to me.”

The words hang in the air between you, unspoken truths finally laid bare. Minho presses a kiss to your forehead before settling back down, his arms wrapping securely around you. You rest your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt all night.

Downstairs, the faint sound of Felix’s laughter drifts up the stairs, followed by Jisung’s voice dramatically proclaiming something about being the world’s best singer. You smile against Minho’s chest, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Home,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sleep.

Minho’s arms tighten around you slightly, his lips brushing against your hair. “Home,” he echoes, his voice full of quiet certainty. “Right here.”

Got carried away with the word count but protective men do something to me. A week of writing and rewriting and forcing my boyfriend to proof read and it's here!

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Could I request a GN Tav with Astarion/Gale/Rolan/ or karlach and their Christmas festivities like decorating cookies, Christmas tree decorating, wrapping presents ect

Ooo this’ll be fun. I haven’t interacted with Rolan much, but I do want to write him so I’ll try my best. It’ll be set to the six months after the Netherbrain with the ‘good’ endings.

Astarion

He doesn’t have any traditions (obvi)

Baking? Too messy. Wrapping gifts? Not his favorite, but he’ll make them look nice. Decorating a tree? Too many pine needles.

Truthfully, he’ll do anything as long as you do it with him

From putting flour on your apron to licking icing off your fingers

To wrapping gifts for your family and friends and putting a bow on your head

But above all, I think he’d enjoy decorating a tree

He’d be walking along BG and he’d see a poorly decorated one in storefronts and scoff

(He could do so much better)

And he does

This man has an eye for style. He’d make the most breathtakingly gorgeous tree in a day, despite never doing it before

He does hate tinsel

Despite being extremely dexterous, he’d somehow get it caught on everything

His foot, his fingers, even his hair

(He hates it)

He loves getting you gifts, though

He struggles with words, but gifts?

He can do that

His gifts will be so special since he remembered everything you say

Looked at a necklace too long? Guess what that pretty little gift under the tree is.

He doesn’t remember if his family had any traditions for the holidays. No opening a gift the day before. No matching pajamas. No family dinners. If anything, he used to be rather spiteful towards the holidays. Skulking about Baldur’s Gate, he’d see lovers and families laughing together. All while he was struggling to get through his day to day life.

But then it all changed. He was free. Free from Cazador, free from his past, free from everything that ever haunted him. The nightmares would linger, maybe forever, but it was easier with you.

Especially when you looked so cute in the matching plaid pajamas you made him wear. The garments were loose in you since you insisted on getting the size up.

You were a vision. The moonlight hitting your face made you look ethereal. He knew the necklace he got you, neatly wrapped and waiting to be put under the soon to be decorated tree, would look beautiful on your bare neck.

-

“The tinsel goes around the tree, Astarion,” you snickered, making him huff.

“I’m-” he tried to pull the sparkly string off, “I’m aware, but the damn thing…”

“For a rouge, you’re-”

He shot you a look, “Don’t you finish that sentence.”

With the tree nearly finished, the tinsel was supposed to be quick and easy. For Astarion, he wore it rather well. Wrapped around his ankle and arm, little bits in his hair and his shirt, paired with his signature pout.

You helped take it off of him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “You’re adorable.”

“You’re awful.”

“I love you.”

He huffed, but begrudgingly smiled, “Yes, yes. I love you, too.”

Gale

Morena is beyond excited to meet you, fussing over you like you’re her own child

She enlists your help in getting Gale his gift since she hasn’t seen him in over a year

Tara tags along, of course, not so subtly trying to convince you to get Gale to shave his beard

As for Gale, he’s rushing to finish grading his student’s finals before the school break starts

After a year in isolation and longer still with Mystra, he’s ecstatic to finally rejoin his mother and Tara

Any free time he has is spent on perfecting your gift, a spell that he had been working on since you mentioned missing the stars

Once everything is set and finished, he’d definitely teach you Waterdavian dishes

But baking?

Please help him

He can make potions, write new spells, create flavorful dishes, but baking trips him up

A few well placed hands over his as you stir and eating hot cookies before they’re ready and he’ll love it

But he’ll need you to keep teaching him again. And again. Especially how to stir.

You laughed, your hand over his as you ‘helped’ him fold the batter, “Are you sure you need help?”

“Absolutely,” he chuckled as he kissed the top of your head, “It’s very difficult.”

Rolling your eyes, you scooped up a bit of batter and plopped it on his cheek, making him scoff, “Excuse me, what did I do to deserve this?” He put a dollop on your nose in retribution.

There was more flour and batter on you both than on the baking pan.

—

“Go ahead,” his voice was soft, “open it.”

It felt light. You slowly unwrapped the box. It looked simple enough: a wooden box with a hole at the top with… something inside. You felt along the bottom and pressed on what you assumed to be a button from the ‘click’.

You understood why he wanted the lights down low for the gifts now.

The roof lit up with a light show. A 3D model of the constellations.

“You, ah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “You always look so breathtaking when you’re stargazing. You said something about missing them, so… I just wanted to give that little bit of joy back to you.”

I’m a little stuck on Rolan and Karlach, so I’m going to reblog this with them on a later date. Until then, take this offering.