#next chapter will come sooner i promise

[mediocres-writing-blog]

Mortal Kombat: Enenra's Shadow

Chapter 6: The Not-So Shocking Truth

Viktor, Enenra and Nico ran off back into the woods, running away from the destruction. They walked through the forest carefully to not trip anything off, as they were still in Lin Kuei territory. Viktor then tried to strike up a conversation with Nico.

VIKTOR: So, the flower thing...

He said, turning to Nico.

VIKTOR: Is it all just a bunch of bullshit?

NICO: I really hope not, kid.

Viktor looked down, and then ahead of himself.

VIKTOR: Answer me something.

NICO: Hmm?

VIKTOR: You've been following me all along, and when the time was right, you rescued me. Why?

NICO: I've done this sort of thing before. It's like a calling for me. And I'd hate myself if I let you get killed.

VIKTOR (smiling): Well, that's pretty cool.

The two walked along, and Nico hummed a melody all too familiar to Viktor.

VIKTOR: I think I've heard this song before.

NICO: Seems we got a pretty similar taste in music. It's a small world.

VIKTOR (looking around): Smaller than you'd think.

He said, seeing a sign that said "Hong Kong, 3.3 km."

NICO: I guess it's time we say our farewells.

Viktor, a little sad, nodded.

ENENRA: You know...

Enenra appeared so Nico and Viktor could hear him clearly.

ENENRA: This doesn't have to mean goodbye. You can come back to Bosnia with us.

Nico, a bit surprised, looked away, nervously mumbling something under his breath.

VIKTOR: What did you say?

NICO: Sorry, it's just that... I can't come.

ENENRA: Why not?

VIKTOR: Enenra, don't force him--

NICO: No, it's okay. I can tell you.

Nico got on one knee, and looked up at the boy.

NICO: Listen, this might come as a shock to you, but I need you to know that... I--

VIKTOR: "Am your father?"

Nico looked confused and surprised at this, getting back up on both feet.

NICO: Well, that was quicker than I expected.

VIKTOR: Then WHY DID YOU LEAVE MY MOM ALONE!? Were you just too big of a coward to be a father so you just left?--

NICO: I didn’t WANT to leave!

Viktor looked confused. His voice was lowered down.

NICO: I got into some deep shit the second I left the military. Your mother and I parted ways because there were people out to get me, like that Sub Zero guy. They weren't just out to get me, they were out to get anyone I was related to, including her. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when I should've. And I understand if you hate me right no--

He would be interrupted by a tackling hug by Viktor. 

NICO: ...

Both Nico and Enenra were confused at this sudden change of heart. Nico awkwardly pats his back. He looked at Enenra from Viktor’s shoulder, both of them shrugging.

NICO: You good?

Viktor, letting go, wiped his face.

VIKTOR: Am now. Now then… I can get us a ride real quick.

Before long, Enenra retracted into Viktor’s body, showing that his arm did in fact grow back.

VIKTOR: Huh… how about that. Anyway…

He said, taking out his phone and dialing the number the taxi driver gave him.

NICO: You know what? I changed my mind.

Viktor turned to Nico, looking a little confused.

NICO: I will go home with you. Let me be the father I never got to be.

Viktor smiled, his eyes and his head turned sideways.

VIKTOR: If mom welcomes you back, I’d be glad to call you dad.

The two chuckled, as they stood around waiting for the driver to pick up, until he eventually did.

GUS (over phone): Yeeeee~s?

VIKTOR: Hey Gus, it’s me, Viktor, from the airport. I need you to pick me up. I’m 3.3 km’s west from Hong Kong, in the woods–

GUS (over phone): Say no more.

He said, hanging up the phone. Viktor put the phone in his pocket as he squatted beside the road. Nico squatted next to him, twiddling his thumbs.

NICO: Soooooo… that a cab driver? When should he be here?

VIKTOR: Literally any second. He’s an… “interesting” driver.

NICO: Right… also sorry, I never got to ask for your name.

VIKTOR: … Viktor.

The two sat there, and Nico tried cracking a joke about some of his past experiences.

NICO: That Sub Zero guy back there gave me a run for my money. But if I’m gonna be honest, this one girl I met once on a business trip? A thousand times more threatening than him.

Viktor turned around, seeming quite interested.

VIKTOR: Really? Who was she? Was she a friend? 

NICO: Ehhhh… kinda. Really, she was a colleague. Whenever we spoke for more than two seconds, she’d either threaten she’ll kill me or we straight up fought. She was a bit of a prick, but her heart was golden. She’d never break a promise and in the end, I could say we were almost friends.

VIKTOR: Huh. Cool. I’d like to meet her some day.

NICO: Trust me, you don’t. She’ll wreck your shit if you breathe too hard.

Viktor looked at his father with Enenra right behind him, raising an eye.

VIKTOR: You mean, she’ll wreck “your” shit?

NICO (sarcastically): Ha ha, very funny.

Nico responded, ruffling his hair. Nico giggled, pushing Robin’s hand away from him. Then Enenra jittered a little.

ENENRA: Gentlemen, stand back from the road. There’s a car incoming at very high speeds.

The two got up, and right before them 180’d and stopped Gus Axel. 

GUS: Good evening. Hop in.

Nico looked worried, and he turned to Viktor.

NICO: I’m not so sure about this, kiddo.

VIKTOR: Well, you either got this, or more Lin Kuei.

Nico stroked his chin, looking at the sky.

NICO: Yeah, fair enough.

GUS (Sadistically): Hop in, or you might end up as someone’s roadkill.

Gus chuckled, as the two got in and tied their seatbelts. The car took off, going way past the speed limit. Gus cut as many corners as possible, and then the police started going after them.

VIKTOR: <Oh, fuck me.>

NICO: Oh, fuck me.

GUS: Oh don’t fret, they’ll just chase us until we crash…

Viktor knew something was off. Gus was a bit silly when he first met him, but this was just insane. The boy tried removing his ivy cap to find some kind of branding on his forehead, pulling himself back. Nico saw it too, being more concerned now than he was in the past ten years. Gus started laughing maniacally, as he hit the gas.

VIKTOR: Fuck this! Dad, we’re jumping out!

He said as the two unbuckled their belts and jumped out of the car. Viktor grabbed Nico’s hand and Enenra suited them up before they hit the ground, softening the impact a bit. The taxi driver looked through his window to see them on the ground. The second he got back in, he crashed into a traffic light and flew through the windshield as the cops surrounded his vehicle. Nico, Viktor and Enenra saw this happen, and hesitated to make eye contact.

VIKTOR: Should we go?

NICO: A minute ago I thought the same, but now I think we should run.

He said as the two ran off in the opposite direction. The two exchanged dialogue as they ran.

NICO: Fast thinking you got there, Vik.

VIKTOR: I didn’t plan any of that, Enenra did all the heavy lifting.

ENENRA (in Viktor’s head): Next time give me a heads up before you jump out of a car, jackass!

The two saw the airport, only 100 meters away (yes I’m european, fuck you). Viktor slowed down a bit, as he couldn’t run as fast or as long as Nico, so the two slowed down but kept going.

NICO: You okay, kiddo?

VIKTOR (breathing deeply): I’ll manage. How can you run so fast?

NICO: Military training.

Viktor walked along looking at the ground, wondering who is this man and how is he his father.

NICO: Just gotta ask, did you get here by plane with anyone or…?

VIKTOR: Well uh… yeah. An old man.

NICO: That old man is probably on the same side as that crazy cab. 

Viktor ran along with Enenra glaring at him angrily. After a few minutes, the two finally made it to the airport where they met up with Svenson. 

ISAAC: Good evening, gents–

The old man tried to greet the two but was interrupted by Nico pulling a knife on the man.

NICO: Cut the BS, gramps, where’s the guy you work for hiding?

ISAAC: Woah now, calm down, no need to be hasty.

Viktor dashed in for the old man’s fedora, revealing no branding in sight. The father and son eyed one another, and Red Robin put his dagger away with immeasurable style. The two got on the plane, with Nico still being skeptical of the old man. The three settled down and took off the ground. While Viktor fell fast asleep, Nico stayed up all flight, just in case the old man did something suspicious. The minute the old man got up from his chair, to go to the cockpit (lol), the old robin knew something was up. He tries to wake up Viktor, quickly succeeding and making the sar boy a little grumpy.

VIKTOR (weakly): Whuh…. Did we already land??

NICO: Sorry, but no. I got a hunch that old shit was up to something. He just went into the cockpit.

There was a few seconds of silence before the two chuckled for twice as long.

VIKTOR: Alright, let's check out.

The two went to the front of the plane, opening the door only to find Isaac holding the captain hostage with the co-pilot quivering in fear.

NICO (to Viktor): What’d I tell ya?

Viktor rolled his eyes, as he stared at the situation.

ISAAC: You two seem to be in quite the predicament here.

VIKTOR: Just tell me what you want.

Isaac looked at the boy, pointing the knife at him.

ISAAC: The parasite. For my master, Quan Chi.

Viktor and Nico were both confused, but understood the second he used the knife to cut open his own shirt, revealing the branding on the spot where his heart resides.

NICO: So, not only does Quan Chi control minds, but also people’s very souls.

ISAAC: How very bright you are.

He said, slitting the pilot’s throat, throwing the co-pilot in a panic. The old man threw the knife in the head of the co-pilot to shut him up.

NICO: Welp, looks like we’ll have to kill this guy, Viktor.

VIKTOR: Damn.

And as he said that, the gray man boosted himself off the control panel to jump at Viktor with full force.

VIKTOR: ENENRA, SUIT ME!

Before any damage could be done, Enenra suited up star boy, keeping him out of harm's way. Nico stabbed the old man with his daggers in his back, getting him off Enenra and kicking him into the passenger seats. As Isaac gets back up, he rips out a seat and throws it at Nico. He fully knows he has nowhere to dodge that, so he tries to block, but is instead saved  by Enenra, who grabbed the seat right before it hit Red Robin.

NICO: I’m liking you more and more by the second, big guy.

ENENRA: Maybe you should have been my host~.

VIKTOR (through Enenra): Oh can we not?!

The symbiote threw the chair back at the old man, nearly killing him. Enenra walked over and grabbed the old man by the neck, and menacingly spoke to him.

ENENRA: I’ll ask you a question, and if I don’t like the answer, I’ll kill you. Now, where’s Quan Chi?

ISAAC: I don’t know, he never stays in one place, I’m only his humble servant. And besides, you have other matter–

Before he could finish, Enenra chomped off his head, killing him in an instant.

NICO: Good job, but we got other things to worry about. Like how we are about to CRASH LAND!

He exclaimed, as Enenra grabbed Nico from a distance, punched a hole through the ceiling, escaping and protecting him from any surfaces. The two safely landed in the airport settlement. Nico got on his legs and Enenra unsuited Viktor when they landed. 

NICO: Well, that was smoother than usual–

As he was saying, the plane crashed on the landing strip, causing a loud explosion.

NICO: …

VIKTOR: Nono, go on, finish your sentence.

NICO: … Nah. still calmer than most of my flights.

Viktor rolled his eyes, before seeing a trolleybus on his right heading their way. 

VIKTOR: Hey, let's catch this bus before we get accused of domestic terrorism.

He said, as the three idiots got on the bus and several sirens were heard from a distance. The two sat close to the door, waiting until they could finally get out to the hospital. The two sat there in silence, both a bit scared to start a conversation.

[davonati]

🚨 Alert alert this is not a drill 🚨

🚨 I have posted a new chapter of Mount Gilboa University 🚨

It’s like, kinda… no I shan’t spoil it, just read for yourselves (cough cough just remember that it’s tagged “happy ending” cough cough)

[thespacebetweenworlds]

Anyway sooooooo regarding my ongoing fic. I've decided it's gonna be smutty after all. Idk why I thought it might not be

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 23: Regrets

Summary: Depression: a common mental health condition characterized by a low mood or loss of pleasure or interest in activities for long periods of time. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,940

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, mental illness, depression, very heavy emotionally, angst, Johnny gets his feelings hurt (but only for a moment), angst, everyone is having big emotions, Bella Swan-esque sad montage, angst, kissing, slight suggestive content, angst

A/N: Did I completely rewrite part of this during the editing process? Yes. Are you going to thank me for that? Also yes. I'm trying something a bit different with this chapter, so let me know what you think. It probably won't be a regular thing, but I just thought I'd give it a test and this chapter was the perfect time to do that.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. 

They’re right. There’s a hole in your chest, an empty void. The squeaking of your shoes on the tiles sounds far away as you numbly walk back towards your room. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks cautiously as you pause in front of your door long enough to turn the handle.

You turn to look up at him, his brows pinched and his eyes shining with concern. “He's gone.” Your voice cracks and shakes, breaking over the words like you're speaking the finality of the situation. 

You are. 

“I know.” Johnny reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your arm. “I wish there had been more warning, but this is usually how his solo assignments go.” 

You swallow thickly. “He'll come back, right?”

Johnny grimaces. “Ye know I can't promise that. But, there's no one quite as capable in the field as him, except maybe Price.” Johnny squeezes your arm gently. “He’s been doing this for a long time, kitten. Have faith in that, and his skills.” 

Johnny’s words do nothing to help the turmoil inside you, the fear and anxiety. One split second mistake, one wrong decision and you know it could be over. Everything could be over before it even started. Why didn’t you confront him sooner? Why didn’t you pick up on his true feelings, his emotions as quickly as he seemed to decipher yours? It’s not fair that they can be taken from you so easily and so quickly. There’s no room for argument, no room for any begging or pleading for them to stay. They have a job, and they’ll always choose that job over you. 

“Ye gonna be alright?” Johnny asks, letting his hand fall from your arm as you push open your door, entering your room before closing it in immediately, clicking the lock into place. You lean against the door for a moment, biting your lip to try and stop the tears as you begin to shiver from the dampness of your clothes. 

You leave your shoes in a pile next to the door before you pad silently to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes once you hit the tile. You’re shivering, a cold chill starting to seep into your very bones as you start the tub, letting it fill with water. The tears blur your vision, dripping into the steaming water as you sink into the bath. You can’t stop the tears as you sit there, not caring how hot the water is, not caring how it makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. You’ll take the pain, the discomfort. Anything to ease the pain that’s ripping your chest wide open.

It hurts, he won’t lie, when you close the door in his face. Well, it wasn’t entirely in his face. He was a foot away from the door, but it still causes a little ache in his chest, a little upset in his mind that you just cut him off like that. The click of the lock is like a finality, the gavel falling on your decision to distance yourself for now. 

The rejection of his offer for comfort has his beta stirring uncomfortably in his mind. Tears fill his own eyes as he stares at the handle of your door, wishing he could reach out and grab it, fling it open and take you into his arms and hold you until you stop crying, until the pain of Simon’s sudden absence goes away. 

“Come on.” John says quietly, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Give her some time.” 

He lets John lead him away from your door and back towards the rec room. He shouldn’t be so hurt by your abrupt dismissal. You were quite obviously upset, upset enough to run out into the rain after Simon. He saw you race out the door, his stomach clenching in worry, but thankfully the rain had forced most inside. There was little threat to you, not with Simon there, but he had been worried you might not be able to catch him, that you might run blindly into the rain to try and find him. 

He had spotted the tears trailing down your cheeks as you walked back to the barracks, mixing with the rain that soaked straight through you. He’s used to his alpha having to leave suddenly, the distance and the worry are second nature now thanks to their jobs, their lifestyles. You’ve never been through this before with him, though, and so soon after the two of you were finally beginning to give in. It’s like a curse. They begin to get close to you, and then suddenly they’re ripped away. 

He almost feels guilty, like he’s responsible for your pain. If he hadn’t forced it, if he hadn’t put you both in that position, maybe you wouldn’t be so upset. He couldn’t have known, though, that Simon would be called away like that. It could happen at any time, they all know that. They always have to be ready, always have to be prepared to be called out. Even on leave they can’t guarantee there won’t be an emergency. It’s just the nature of their job. 

It wouldn’t have bothered any of them before you. 

“She didn't take it well, did she?” Kyle says as John guides Johnny to sit on the couch next to him. 

“Christ, she's so upset.” Johnny says, leaning his head in his hands. “If I hadnae pushed them, then this wouldn't have happened.” 

“You couldn't have known this was going to happen.” Kyle says, squishing Johnny between him and John to try and comfort the upset beta. 

“We didn't even know until a couple of hours ago.” John says, draping his arm across the back of the couch.

“If she's this upset at one of us leaving...how upset was she when we all left?” Johnny says, his stomach churning at the thought. No wonder you were so shaken when they came back. 

“The best thing we can do right now is leave her alone and let her do what she needs to do.” John says, pulling Johnny so he's resting against his chest. “She'll come out when she's ready.” 

The afternoon comes and goes, the rain slowing to a light drizzle. You still haven’t left your room, sealed inside, secluded from them. Johnny casts the closed door a wistful look every time he walks down the hallway, half tempted to try the knob and see if it’s been unlocked, but he stops himself. The last thing you need is to be scared by someone trying to get in. John is right. You’ll come out when you’re ready. 

John knocks on your door as they get ready to head to dinner, waiting a moment for some type of response. “We’re going to dinner, sweetheart.” He says through the door when there’s no answer to his knock. “Do you want us to bring you something?” 

There’s a quiet noise from your room, some muffled response to John’s question.

“We’ll be back soon.” John says, somehow able to make out what it is you said. Or maybe his plan was to bring you something regardless of whether you agreed or not. 

It feels strange, just the three of them walking to the mess. It’s not the first time they’ve gone just the three of them, but it feels different this time. It’s not Simon’s missing presence that weighs so heavily, it’s yours. 

There’s a tenseness that’s settled over them as they sit at the table, avoiding eye contact with each other.  Simon’s empty space at the table wouldn’t have felt so much like an empty chasm if you had been there to fill some of it. 

They’re not sure what to do, the feeling similar to what they felt upon their return. They knew it would be bad, but they hadn’t expected you to be in shambles like you were. Their pack mate is hurting, their omega is hurting, and there’s nothing they can do. They don’t know what to do. Johnny wants to kick in your door, rush into your room and envelop you in a hug so tight you’ll complain that you can't breathe. He just wants to help you, but that’s not what you want, what you need right now. 

He knows it’s his beta instincts, his need to comfort and soothe and support. If Kyle is feeling the same way, which Johnny knows he has to be, he’s hiding it well. Though, perhaps that’s just for his sake and John’s. He can’t even imagine what John is going through, knowing his omega is suffering in such a way. 

All because Simon is gone. 

How easily one missing piece could tear the pack apart. If something happened to one of them, or god forbid something happened to you, they might not be able to recover. They had always assumed their training would win out, that they could move past it in the way they would had there been nothing but the bonds of camaraderie between them. 

How silly that idea had been. 

It’s no secret death disrupts pack stability, shakes the bonds that tie a pack together. He remembers how his Grannie’s death had shaken his family for weeks and it had taken months to return to what could be considered normal after a partially expected death of a member of the pack. What kind of damage would an unexpected and sudden death do to a pack? 

Johnny shakes the thought from his head. There was always a risk. They all knew that, they all agreed to that when they signed up. He knows Simon is highly skilled, well accustomed to working alone, to completing solo assignments successfully. The risk of something happening was always high, but he trusts Simon and puts faith in his skills. 

John goes back through the line once they finish, making a tray for you and piling it high as usual. It always makes him happy to see how well cared for you really are. Despite the circumstances of you being added to their pack, he knows it could have been so much worse. There’s worse packs, worse alphas out there. At least with them, you’re an equal. You’re their precious omega, and they’d make anyone who threatened you regret that decision. 

John is surprised the handle turns when he tries it. You’ve gotten up at least, but he’s not surprised to find you back in the same place you’ve likely been all day. He closes the door behind him before moving to your bed, setting the tray of food down on your nightstand. You squint as he flicks the lamp on, reaching up to rub your eyes. The bed dips as he sits on the edge, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. 

“I know this is hard for you.” He says softly, brushing his fingers across your bare arm. Your skin is warm, likely from being burrowed under the blankets. “I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now.” 

“He's gone.” You say quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. 

“Just for a while.” He says. “He’ll be back.” 

“But you can’t promise that.” You argue, pushing yourself up to sit. Your cheeks are still damp with tears, eyes red and lips still trembling. 

“There’s always a risk,” He says softly. “But you have to trust Simon. He’s not going down without a fight.” He sighs quietly as your gaze drops to your hands, your fingers picking at the skin around your fingers. He slips his hand into yours, stopping you from continuing. “What’s eating you?” 

“I should have told him.” You sniffle, your eyes on his hand as your fingers close around it. . 

“Told him what?” He prods gently, curiously. 

“That I love him.” You say, lifting your gaze to look at him. “I should have said it but I didn’t and now what if he doesn’t come back? I love all of you, and I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” The words end in a sob, tears sliding down your cheeks again. 

Your words take him by surprise. It’s no secret how they feel about you, how their feelings have grown from curiosity to companionship to attraction and now to love. All of them have come to love you in their own ways, even Simon in his resistance wasn’t immune to his feelings, to their shared feelings towards you. 

“Look at me.” He cups your face gently, his thumbs wiping the falling tears. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way, I wish they hadn't picked us to be first for this. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to put you through this. I wouldn't change having you as my omega, but forcing you to live like this, to be left behind with the worry over something none of us can control.” He shakes his head. “It was a selfish decision by those who created the initiative.” 

“What...what happens if the initiative fails?” You ask softly. 

“We’re not giving you up.” He says, holding your gaze. “We wouldn’t want to, and we wouldn’t let it happen. You’ve been part of this pack since the day you stepped foot on this base. We wouldn’t have let you go then, and we sure as hell won’t now.” 

Your breathing is shaky as you stare at him, and he can see the wheels turning in your head, the hesitation as you debate whether you want to speak. He hates that you still feel this way, that you have to hide your thoughts from them out of fear or worry that they might be angered by them. He’s not sure there’s anything you could say that would anger him. 

“Would you ever leave for me?” You speak the words slowly, hesitantly, like they might bite you if you're not careful. 

He's not expecting it, though he has wondered if you'd ever ask it of them. If it might come to be too much and it leaves you no choice but to ask, to give them the ultimatum. He lets out a breath, all the answers he'd thought up in response gone as he sits face to face with you, as he faces this question out in the open for the first time. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you stare at him, taking his silence as second thoughts, as possible rejection. 

“Please be honest with me.” You whisper shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek. 

He watches its path as it slides down your cheek, pausing at the line of your jaw before it drips down onto your shirt. He lifts his gaze back to yours, the pain in them stabbing straight into his heart. He wants to say yes, that he'd leave in a heartbeat, give up what he'd worked his whole life to achieve, all for an omega. His omega. 

He wouldn't be able to sleep at night, knowing the kind of evils that exist in the world, the kinds of threats that linger in the dark. The evils that may pose a threat to you and his pack. You’ll never be truly safe, not so long as there’s others who know of your existence. Very few of them he’d truly trust with the knowledge that you pose a threat to their efficiency as a team, a weakness that could be exploited. 

What bloody fucking fools they were, leaving you alone like that. 

“Part of me wants to say no,” He admits honestly, ignoring the flash of pain in your eyes. “But it would depend on the situation. If your life was ever in danger because of us, then without question. If the initiative fails, if we can't adjust, then we may have no other choice.”

“The job comes first.” You say quietly, sounding defeated. 

“But there may come a time when it doesn't.” He says, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry about that too much right now.” He brushes a hand over your hair. “If a situation arises, then we'll talk about it further.” 

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You lean into him, letting out a quiet breath. He pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 

“I love you too.” He says, his lips brushing the top of your head. “And Simon knows how you feel.” 

You shift in his arms, pulling back just slightly to stare up at him. Your brows are pinched as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“Simon is very good at reading people. Their scents, their emotions, their body language. Years of training paired with his own natural abilities.” He smiles softly at you. “He knows how you feel.” 

“Oh,” You say, shrinking into yourself. 

“He'll likely convince himself it's not true, knowing him and how he thinks. You'll have to tell him to make him believe it.” He pats your leg under the blankets. “Don't worry too much about him. He'll be back before you know it.” He pushes himself up to stand. “Eat your dinner. We'll be around if you need anything.” 

“John?” You ask, stopping him before he can leave. 

He turns back around to face you. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” You say. “For everything.”

A small smile pulls at his lips. “Of course.”

You're just stepping out of the bathroom when the knock sounds on your door. You had gotten up to rinse your face with cold water, your skin starting to feel tight and itchy after nearly an entire day of uncontrollable tears. You freeze at the sound of knuckles tapping on the wood, your heart leaping into your chest. Is it one of the guys coming to tell you bad news? Has something happened to Simon? 

Or is he coming back already? 

You’re half scared, half hopeful as you make the short journey across your room to the door. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion as your fingers close around the handle, slowly pulling it open. 

Johnny is standing on the other side, his face a mix of worry and sadness. It doesn’t help the despair already starting to manifest in you. Something must have happened to Simon. Something’s gone wrong. He’s not coming back, or they’ll have to leave to help him. 

“Ye doin’ alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his brows furrowing as he stares at you. 

“Yeah.” You can’t help but wince at the way your voice cracks around the word. You sniffle, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. 

“I have somethin’ for ye.” He says, his hands fiddling with the fabric he’s holding. You hadn't noticed it before now. “I was gonnae do Simon’s laundry, but I thought ye might want this.” 

It’s one of Simon’s shirts he’s holding out to you, one of the black standard cotton t-shirts he often sports. Your fingers tremble as you take it, bringing the fabric to your nose. You don’t care that it’s dirty, having likely been soaked in sweat at one point. You inhale deeply, nose pressed into the fabric. It smells of soap and deodorant and him. Tears well in your eyes as you take in the scent, almost as if you’re getting it directly from the source. 

You’re moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around Johnny’s middle. He seems almost surprised by your action, his body tensing for a second before it relaxes, his arms wrapping around you. 

“Thank you.” You murmur against his chest, a couple tears slipping from your eyes. You’re so tired of crying, but you can’t stop. 

“Yer welcome, kitten.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Ye need anythin’...” 

He leaves the other half unsaid, but you know what he means. You’re hesitant to pull away from him, wanting to just stand there and cling to him until Simon returns, but you know he’s busy. Eventually he’ll have to leave you too. You’re not sure you could handle watching him leave your nest, close your door behind him as he’s forced away to do his job. 

Your door clicks as you shut it, holding Simon’s shirt to your chest. You’re tempted to wear it, to slip it over your head and bathe yourself in your scent, but you know if you do that, his scent will just fade faster and become overwhelmed by your own. The desire to bury yourself in it is strong, let his scent sink into your body and overwhelm your own. 

Your eyes pass over the giant bear sitting in your desk chair before snapping back to look at it. An idea begins to form in your head as you set the shirt on your bed. 

You grab the bear, hauling it to your bed and sitting it on the edge. You pull the shirt over its head, stretching the neckline slightly. The shirt is slightly baggy on the bear, but you don’t care as you maneuver it so it’s laying on the bed, trying to picture Simon in its place. It would be a tight squeeze, but then again it always is with any member of your pack. Their bodies don’t leave much space on the narrow mattresses by themselves, much less with you curled up with them. You can’t help the stirring in your chest, the yearning for more space, for a bed big enough to fit all of you at the same time. Big enough for Johnny to starfish himself comfortably, for you to escape the inescapable suffocating heat of their bodies that will build up inevitably. 

Tears burn behind your eyes as you crawl onto the mattress, draping yourself across the giant bear. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you press your face into the shirt, pretending it’s Simon you’re laying against. You can almost feel his arms wrap around you, holding onto you like you might disappear if he lets go. You squeeze your arms tighter around the bear, letting Simon’s scent seep into your mind and take away your fear and your worry and your pain for a little while. 

It’s two days later when you finally leave your room. You’ve managed to stop the onslaught of tears, calming down enough to exist without being a weepy mess. There’s still an ache in your chest, though, the gaping hole that won’t close. A piece of you is missing, a piece you hadn’t even noticed was there until it was ripped out of you suddenly and violently. Your hug with Johnny had been the first time it had felt less intense, the aching abating just slightly. 

They’ve just returned from their afternoon training, earlier than usual meaning they have some downtime before dinner. You can almost tell where he is before you leave your room, following the sounds of the TV. Your steps are slow and quiet, the cold tile biting into your bare feet as you approach the rec room. 

He’s seated on the couch, spread out as usual. His eyes flicker to you as you hesitate in the doorway, tugging at the hem of the baggy shirt you’re wearing. You’ve long forgotten whose it is, the name on the tag worn off and all hints of scent erased by the many times you’ve worn and washed it. The thought tugs at the hole in your chest. Eventually Simon’s shirt won’t smell like him anymore, faded and rubbed away by time and your own scent. 

“Hi kitten,” He says, breaking the silence between you. 

You let out a shaky breath before entering the rec room, approaching him. You can tell he’s expecting you to sit next to him, to curl up against his side by the way he moves his arm, but instead you straddle his lap, all but throwing yourself against his chest. He grunts quietly in surprise, his arm instinctively wrapping around your back. You lay your head on his shoulder, going limp in his hold. 

It doesn’t fix the hole, doesn’t remove the ache entirely, but you can feel it start to lessen as you sit there, getting as close to Simon as you possibly can through his beta. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt. He wraps his other arm around you, holding you tightly as his scent begins to project around you. Nothing is said, but nothing has to be. He knows what you need, and he doesn’t even have to use his instincts to figure it out. 

A week goes by without a word from Simon or even about him and how he’s doing. You return to your normal routine in a numb, almost dazed state. You follow the rest of your pack around like a lost puppy, going to meals and following them to training when John allows, withdrawing back to your room like a recluse when you can’t. You sit in the rec room with them in the evenings, but you feel far away, distant from them and reality. You stare at the TV, but all you can see are blurry moving shapes. You can’t even read, often finding yourself staring at the cover until the words mesh and blur into something else. 

You never thought the distance could feel like this. You almost miss the fear of them all being gone. At least that had made you feel something. 

You see Dr. Keller twice as usual, both appointments unproductive as you fight to force some kind of life into yourself to drown out the numbness that’s settled. You’re far away, distracted from everything. Even food tastes different, more mushy and flavorless than usual. 

They’re worried about you. Even in your numb state you can tell that. John hovers closer, allowing you to follow them more than he probably should. It’s not like you’re paying much attention to what they’re doing, seated far away from anything that might put you at risk as you stare up at the sky, or off at the trees in the distance. Even when you’re inside, your gaze is far away, never quite focusing on anything. 

Johnny and Kyle keep you close as much as they can, squishing you between them on the couch or when you walk to meals. They’re always touching you, holding your hands, brushing your skin, wrapping their arms around you. They’re trying to comfort you, and it works for a little bit, not even your numbness impervious to a beta’s soothing presence. They hold onto you like they’re trying to keep you grounded to the earth, like you might float off and disappear into space if they don’t. 

You don’t sleep well, electing to sleep in your room every night. It’s a vast difference to what you had been doing, avoiding your room as much as possible. You’re seeking out the safety of your nest, a comfort only it can provide despite everything that’s happened. You feel bad for pushing them away, keeping them at a distance, but at the same time, you don’t care. 

You just want Simon back. 

“I’m worried.” 

“I know. I’m surprised you didn’t come here sooner.” 

He feels strange, sitting in Dr. Keller’s office alone. It’s not the first time he’s been here, spoken to her about you. After their return from their first assignment, he had sat with Dr. Keller and gone over everything that had happened during their absence, or at least as much as she could tell him. Anything you talked about was considered confidential, but at least she could tell him if there were any issues or incidents. 

“She’s depressed.” Dr. Keller answers before he can even ask. “It’s not uncommon for omegas to become depressed after separation. Even when there’s necessary splitting of a pack into a satellite, there’s a risk for all omegas to develop depression because of it.”

He should have known. He’s seen it happen to soldiers, when the blood staining their hands grows to be too much and they begin to recluse in their own bodies, becoming empty shells of who they were before. You’ve become a shell, a body simply existing out of necessity. 

“What can we do?” He asks, unable to keep the mask up, to hide his concern and fear. 

“Not much more than you have been.” She says. “Keep supporting her, reminding her that you’re there. There’s an adjustment when a bond begins to weaken. Omegas are especially susceptible to it, and with how strongly connected and aware of her instincts and emotions she is, it’s going to affect her more.” Dr. Keller sighs, leaning her arms on her desk. “I don’t think anyone has ever taught her how to balance or even use those purebred instincts. Institutes are supposed to, but from what we know, they teach subservience over anything.” 

John shifts in his seat. Of course no one would have cultivated those abilities. It would have made you too aware, made the risk of you being able to manipulate them too high. Your job was to serve them above all else, so why would those teaching you want to give you that ability? Those instincts would have made you a perfect omega, able to pick up on the slightest changes, the needs of your pack. Yet, if you became too aware of your own abilities, it would give you too much power over them. That’s the one thing institutes don’t want...an omega that knows how powerful they are. 

“How do we teach her?” He asks. 

“I can help her with balancing those instincts and emotions, but only someone who knows can really teach her how to be successful at using them.” 

“Simon.” He says, the pieces beginning to come together. 

“If he didn’t know how before, his military training would have cultivated those instincts. That’s why purebreds are so sought after by militaries. Of course, it’s a bit different for alphas and omegas, but you are two sides of the same coin.” Dr. Keller smiles. “She’s smart. She’ll begin to figure it out on her own once she’s aware she can do it. In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. If there’s some way she can talk to him or get in contact with him, that may help alleviate some of the depression.” 

He knows it won’t be likely, but if it will help you, he’s willing to take that risk. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

He stands outside your door, staring at the knob. It’s late, his eyes burning from exhaustion. He’s stressed, not just from the day to day stressors of his job, but your obvious pain and discomfort has been affecting him. It’s affecting all of them. Kyle and Johnny’s times on the course have slowed, their aim is off, and he knows they’re not sleeping well either. 

Even with you beginning to return to your normal routine, your distance from them has proven to affect them more than your presence. Even with you around them, your numbed, absent state has disrupted their abilities to function, to exist as a normal pack. He’s relayed the sudden change to Kate in an attempt to prove his decision not to leave you alone is the right one, and it will help his case should they decide to try and separate you from the pack. 

He can’t think of a reason why they would now. The bonds are too strong. The separation of just one of them has proven to disrupt the bonds between all five of you. He can only imagine how Simon is feeling, being apart from everyone. It’s never bothered him before, but that had been before your presence. If Simon was incapable of fulfilling his duties and performing the task he had been assigned, they would have forced him out of the field and sent him back by now. 

Perhaps your fears were right and Simon isn’t as in love as John thought he was. 

He shakes the thought from his head. He’s seen the way Simon looks at you, the obvious change in his demeanor since your trip to town, the changes that have happened in your demeanor around him. Simon cares for you deeply, more than just as an alpha in your pack. 

He tries the handle of your door, surprised again when it opens. He might have thought you’d start locking it at night again with how much you’ve regressed. Maybe this was your silent plea for help, for comfort, for something other than the emptiness inside you. He slips into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light of your nightlight in the corner. He can’t see you except for your arm tossed around the giant bear. It’s wearing a black shirt, likely the one Johnny had given you. It was a good decision, offering you at least an extension of the missing alpha. 

He approaches the bed quietly, not wanting to startle you. He doesn’t want to climb over you either, but he knows moving the bear will wake you. Perhaps you’re exhausted and sleeping hard enough he won’t disturb you. 

He picks the lesser of two evils, lifting the bear. He curses silently when your body shoots up as soon as the bear slips from your grasp. 

“No!” You shout, almost like an angry child having their toy taken away. It’s a desperate sound, a shocking one, ringing loud in the silence. You’re reaching for the bear, trying to tug it from his hands. 

“Easy, easy.” He says, putting his hand on your arm, your movements slowing to a stop as his touch brings back to reality. “I’m just moving him.” He shifts the bear to your other side, your body rolling to follow it. 

He climbs into the bed, barely managing to fit on the mattress. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you and the bear, but he’ll manage it. He’s slept in tighter places. He slips an arm under you, the other reaching across you to settle on the bear. 

“Tight squeeze with the three of us.” He says quietly, trying to ease some of the tension. 

“Need bigger beds.” You murmur, voice slightly muffled from where your face is pressed against the bear. 

He chuckles quietly. “I won’t argue with that. Perhaps someday.” 

You shift slightly at his words, obviously not expecting him to continue your conversation from earlier this week. He normally tried to avoid thinking too far into the future. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something he might never get to have. Or, at least he used to feel that way. 

Things have changed. 

“I used to think this job would be all I did.” He continues, speaking almost to himself. “I’d never grow old enough to retire. Someday I’d die in the field and that was good enough for me. Then, of course, things changed. Had those three other muppets to worry about.” He slips his arm from the bear to wrap around your stomach. “Then another little muppet got added. Now I’m thinking about a nice little cottage by the sea, big enough for five, with a nice flower garden in the front. Just a short walk to the beach, where we can sit and watch the sun set.” 

“White picket fence dreams.” You say quietly. 

“Or at least the British equivalent of that.” He says, a smile tugging at his lips. 

You shift slightly in his arms, pressing back against his chest as you turn as far as you can. “You mean it?” 

“Of course.” He says, his thumb gently rubbing your stomach through your shirt. “Things have changed. Priorities have shifted, and not just for me.” 

He presses his forehead against the side of your head, breathing in the soft scent of your strawberry body wash and the new vanilla scented shampoo Johnny had gotten you. There’s a faint hint of leather beneath your scent, the smell rubbing off from Simon’s shirt you dressed the bear in. He can almost imagine Simon in place of the bear, both of their arms tangling around you as they surround you and keep you safe from the outside world. Just a moment of peace in the hectic violence and chaos of their lives. 

“John?” You say quietly, pulling him from the edge of sleep that had settled in his mind. 

He hums quietly in response, forcing himself back to consciousness again. 

There’s a moment’s pause, a second of silence, and for a moment he wonders if you’re going to speak at all. “Don’t let go.” You finally say, your voice quiet and broken in the silence. 

“Never.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

John's phone ringing drags you from the light sleep you had managed to slip into. It hasn't been long since you drifted off you think, but then again, it's hard to tell. It's still dark out, and you're still in the same position. John lets go of you to reach for his phone on your nightstand barely managing to grab it at the awkward angle he’s at. 

His voice is rough with sleep as he answers. “Hello?” 

It's quiet for a moment. You can't hear much aside from a male voice on the other side. You can't tell who it is or what they're saying. 

“Good to hear.” He says, slipping into the Captain again. 

Something stirs in your stomach as you try to listen, try to catch who it is. Just one word, just one hint. 

“I'm sure.” There’s another pause, this one feeling like a lifetime. “I have someone here next to me that would like to talk to you too.”

You nearly elbow John in the stomach in your frantic attempt to turn over. You yank the offered phone from his hand as you lean the top half of your body on his stomach. “Hello?” Your voice wavers as you say it, the emotions beginning to stir within you again. 

There's a second delay before you hear it. “Hello, love.” 

You nearly cry at finally hearing his voice again, the pet name causing a fluttering in your stomach. You've never heard him call you that before. “I missed you.” You finally say, managing to get the words out. 

“That's what I'm hearing.” He says, and you can imagine the lifting of his cheeks under the mask, the slight crinkle of his eyes as he smiles. 

“When will you be back?” You ask. 

“Soon. Won't be much longer.” He says. 

“Be careful.” You say, your breathing shaky. “You better not come back hurt.” You're not sure you could handle it if he came back on a stretcher, or even with a single bandaid. 

“Yes ma'am.” He says seriously, but you can hear the humor in his tone. “I'll try my best.” 

“Good.” You say, wanting to lay there, to listen to him breathing for a while, just so that you know he’s really there, he’s really alright. You know you can’t though, your fingers shaking as you pass the phone back to John. 

He speaks to Simon for a couple more minutes while you lay across his stomach, listening to the rumble of his voice in your ear. Relief is flooding through you after hearing Simon's voice. He's really alright, he's fine, he's coming home. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” John asks after hanging up, his hand coming to rest on your back. 

A thousand words want to come out of your mouth, but you can't get them up past the lump in your throat. “He called me love.” You finally say, replaying the pet name over and over in your head. 

“Did he?” John asks, and you can picture the way his lips turn up in a smile. 

“He's never called me that before.” You say. 

“Well then I'm sure he meant it.” John says. 

You sure hope so. 

It's a week later when you get to stand on the tarmac again, waiting for a plane to land. It's early, the sky clear and the sun just starting to rise over the trees, casting everything in a golden light. It’s so vastly different from how the world had looked when he left, the weather seeming to convey your inner feelings. The rain and darkness a perfect symbol of the dread and pain of him leaving. Now that he’s returning the sun is out and the sky is clear, conveying your relief. You’re beginning to feel again, the ache in your chest beginning to lessen. It’s the most alive you’ve felt since he left. 

You're in a dress today, the yellow sundress that Johnny had bought you. You wonder if he’d done it on purpose, perhaps knowing something you don’t. Despite the sun rising, there’s still a chill in the air, and you had quickly stolen his sweatshirt to cover your bare shoulders. 

You squeeze John's hand as the plane comes in to land, watching it approach in eager anticipation. You're going to hug him tightly, throw your arms around him and refuse to let go until you have no choice. You're going to give him the greeting he deserved weeks ago when they all came back. 

He's like a magnet, halfway down the ramp when you start approaching, moving without even thinking. He's in his full mask, the one with the half skull sewed to it. He looks dangerous and deadly, the true visage of a Ghost, but you approach without fear, without hesitation. Underneath all of it you know there’s Simon, the man you’ve quickly fallen in love with. 

You're ready to hug him, to feel him again, to wrap yourself around him like you could sink right into his body. 

You're not prepared for what he does next. 

One of his hands reaches up, the fabric of his gloves rough on your skin as he grips your chin, his thumb on one side, digging into your jaw, the other four fingers on the other side holding your head still. His other hand pulls his mask up over his mouth, giving you a glimpse of his stubble and chapped lips. 

You don't get to look long as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. 

It's like time freezes as he kisses you, your skin erupting in goosebumps, and it's not from the cold air. You weren't expecting this, your brain trying to catch up, to process that this is really happening, that this is real. 

He tilts your head to the side, deepening the kiss as he leans closer into you. Your hands reach up, closing around the sleeves of his jacket. He's real, he's really here, and he's kissing you. 

The moment likely doesn't last more than 30 seconds, but it feels like forever as his lips move against yours. It might be cliche to say fireworks are going off, but that may have just been the engines of the plane shutting down.  

He finally pulls away from you, his hand still gripping your jaw. You could melt into a puddle right there, his eyes speaking volumes of what's going on in his head. He's done a lot of thinking in his time away. You wonder how many thoughts you've shared over the last two weeks. 

“Should have done that before I left.” He says, his voice rough, but just as you remember. 

Tears prick behind your eyes as you stare up at him. His fingers are digging into your jaw, but you don’t care. He’s here, he’s back, he’s safe, and he just kissed you like you’d wanted to before he left. 

“I wish you had.” You say, as he slowly releases your jaw, his hand brushing your throat before it drops to his side. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your arms around him, holding onto him tightly. 

“What are you doing?” He says, taking you back all those weeks ago to when you hugged him the first time. There’s no confusion in his tone now though, instead there’s an amused lilt to it. 

“Giving you the hug you deserve so you don't get mad at me.” You say, your voice slightly muffled from your face being squished against his chest.

“You think I'd get mad about not getting a hug after kissing you?” He asks, patting your back. 

“Just making sure.” You say, his chuckle reverberating in your ear. 

You don’t release him as he begins to walk to where the others are, keeping your arms wrapped around him tightly. He greets the others, Johnny squishing you between them as he hugs his alpha. You don't care as Ghost's armor digs into your body, it's just a reminder that this is real. He's really here. This isn’t a dream. 

He's really back. 

You sit between Simon and Johnny in the back seat of the car. It's a tight squeeze between the two, but you don't care one bit. Johnny's hand rests on your thigh as John drives back to the barracks. Perhaps you’re still reeling a bit from the kiss, or perhaps it’s Simon’s scent, but you want to push Johnny’s hand higher, hike up your dress and hope Simon gets a peek at what's waiting underneath. You won’t though. You want him to be comfortable. You want your first moments of intimacy to be just the two of you, something special. 

Dread begins to fill you again as the car rolls to a stop outside the barracks. You know what to expect now, having gone through it once before. He’s not truly back, he still has to leave you again. At least this time, you have the others. 

“I'll see you soon.” Simon says, squeezing your arm. 

“Hurry back?” You stare up at him. 

“As fast as I can.” He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

You're tempted to kiss him again, but you don't want to push his boundaries. Sure, he had kissed you, but it could have been a fluke, a one time thing born out of desire and time spent apart. 

You won't care if he never kisses you again. At least you know what it feels like. 

Thankfully he makes the decision for you as he turns his body slightly towards you, as much as he can in the tight space. He lifts the bottom of his mask, leaning down to kiss you again. You purr against his lips, your scent exploding in the car like a smoke bomb. 

Johnny lets out an extensive curse as he fumbles for the door handle, forcing it open in an attempt to escape the sudden onslaught. Kyle is quick to follow, allowing more air in to disperse the intensity of your scent in the confined space. John rolls his window down, lighting a cigar, trying to do anything to keep your scent from going straight to his head. 

You feel giddy and almost proud as Simon places one last soft peck against your lips. You don’t want to let him go, but you know you have to. He’s not quite yours yet. He still has more of his job to do before then. 

Always the job first. 

Your lips are still tingling as you walk into the barracks, your heart still fluttering in your chest. Johnny is staring at you, almost walking sideways. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your face warming. 

“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. He’s wearing that stupid, smug grin on his face again.

“Been a long time since I've seen him like that” He says, squeezing your arm gently. “Not since his first romp with Kyle.” 

You turn to look at the other beta behind you who simply shrugs. “What can I say? No one's immune to my charm.” He gives you a dazzling smile. He’s not wrong, his smile causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. 

“Cannae wait to see him glowin’ after his first taste of our sweet omega.” Johnny says, backing you against the wall. 

“Yeah, well, you might be waiting forever for that.” You say, stopping his approach with a hand on his chest. 

He tilts his head at you, his brows furrowing. “What do ye mean, kitten?” 

“I'm not even sure he's going to want that, much less if he'll do it.” You shrug. The thought has been going through your mind despite the kiss in the car. Though he’s kissed you twice, that’s a big leap to make, a leap you might never make. 

Johnny snorts at your response. “Kitten, he's been holdin’ himself back for weeks. He's just worried he may...be too much for ye.”

You give Johnny a look. “I can handle you, can't I?”

Johnny grins. “Aye, but this is...different. He's not gonnae make the first move. If ye want it,” He leans in closer. “Yer gonnae have to do it yourself.”

“Well,” You slip under his arm, nearly making him faceplant on the wall. “Then I best save my stamina for him, then.” 

Kyle laughs, patting Johnny's back. “Set yourself up for that one, mate.”

You peel off Johnny's sweatshirt, adjusting the top of your dress before tossing his sweatshirt to him. “I'll see you both later.” You give them a smirk before turning on your toes, heading back to your room. 

Johnny curses quietly behind you, and you just know his eyes are glued to your ass. 

Johnny’s words replay over and over in your head as you go through your day as usual. Simon had returned to the barracks, going straight to his room to shower. You had been tempted to step into the hallway, to wait for him, but you know he’s not free yet. He still has paperwork to do, which you know from experience that could take a long time. 

Thankfully, that gives you plenty of time to think about what you’re going to do. You're going to have to make the first move, but what if you move too fast? How do you even broach the subject? 

“Hey Simon, welcome back. Would you like to rearrange my guts?” 

“I cried the whole time you were gone, would you like to make me cry for a different reason?”

“Bend me over and fuck me like a real alpha.”

You facepalm at your own thoughts. You could just slowly initiate it. Start with touches, getting closer, more kisses. Leave yourself open to him in hopes he gets the message, that he pushes past that boundary and finally fucks you like he wants to. 

Heat blooms in your stomach, sinking between your legs. You're all worked up and he’s only kissed you twice. Johnny’s words don’t help the fantasies in your mind. He’s scared you won’t be able to handle him. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. He’s a big man. You know, you’ve felt it before. It’s hard not to, with some of the positions he’s put you in during your training, nothing but those grey sweatpants and his underwear as a barrier. 

You wonder how he'll do it. Bend you over so you won't see his face? Keep the mask on and put you on your back so you can hold eye contact with him? Or will he finally take the mask off, finally let you see his face? 

You assume the others have seen it, so when will it be your turn? 

It’s not until after dinner when you hear footsteps down the hall. Johnny had gotten food for Simon who was still deep in his paperwork when you left for the mess. Despite his absence at the table still, it had felt less gaping, less like a black hole threatening to suck you all in. He’s back, he’s here. Soon he’ll fill that empty space again. 

You try to stop yourself from running out of your room when the steps get closer. You’re not even sure it’s him. You don’t want to disappoint the others if you leave your room so excitedly in the hopes that they’re Simon. So instead, you stay seated on the edge of your bed, staring at your unlocked door. You want him to open it, to step into your room, but you know he won’t. He’s never been in your room. The furthest he’s entered is your doorway. 

You’ll have to make the first move. 

Your stomach nearly leaps out of your body as the boots stop in front of your door. You hold your breath in anticipation, too scared to move, too scared to throw open the door and risk your excitement being too much. You might push him away in your eagerness, but you’re not sure you can hide it much longer. You’d let him bend you over with the door open, hell, you’d let him take you in the hallway. 

One step at a time. One step at a time. 

You repeat it over and over in your head as you push yourself off your bed, moving to the door. He’s not going to knock, he’s going to wait for you to open it, for you to remove that barrier between you. He’s giving you the chance to change your mind, to go back, to call the two kisses enough and draw the line where you want it. 

The doorknob is cold in your sweaty hand as you grasp it, turning it slowly. The gavel is falling, the slow opening of the door marks the finality, the crumbling of the final barrier. There’s no going back. The bond is too strong, the line has been removed completely. 

You stare up at Simon as the door swings as far as it will open. His eye black is gone, washed off in the shower revealing the pale skin underneath. He smells good, cleaner than he had on the tarmac. You can smell it despite the space between you. Under the smell of his generic soap you can pick up his natural scent. Leather and eucalyptus and the musk of alpha. You want to drown yourself in it, rub it all over your skin until your own scent is gone. 

“Hi.” You say, goosebumps forming across your skin from the intensity of his gaze. You’d forgotten how sharp it is, how easily he can peel away your layers as he stares at you. 

“Hi.” He says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. You’d forgotten how deep it really is, the roughness around the edges harsher than usual, but you expected that. They had all been a bit hoarse after returning from their group deployment. 

You continue to stare at him, lost in his earthy gaze. The hole in your chest has lessened to almost nothing, slowly the bond repairing itself just from the knowledge he's here, he’s standing in front of you. He’s real. 

You clear your throat, smoothing your hands over your dress. His eyes drop, following the movement. “I thought you'd want to rest.” It's the first thing you can think of to say, speechless in his presence. He must be tired. 

“I slept on the plane.” He shrugs. 

“Yeah, but surely a real bed is a relief.” You say. You’d half expected him to retreat to his room, seeking out a comfortable bed. They’re not all that comfortable, but compared to what he probably was sleeping on these last couple weeks, it must feel like heaven. 

“Probably is.” He says, his gaze shifting back to your face. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at him. You’re testing the waters, pushing into new territory as the last walls of the barrier crumble around you. “You could go rest.” You say, shifting on your feet, giving him the option to turn away, to change his mind. “I’m sure you missed your bed.” 

He’s still as a statue as he looms in your doorway, his frame filling it easily, making you feel small. “I'd rather relax in yours.”

Your face warms at his words, not expecting him to say that. The warmth pooling in your stomach intensifies, your heart fluttering in your chest. You’re not sure what happened during his assignment, what caused such a drastic change. You want to know what went through his head, what he was thinking about. Did he picture you at night when he got a moment to rest? Was he imagining you there with him, curled up against him? Or was he picturing you in other positions? 

You might never know, just another secret hidden between you. 

A shudder runs through him. You can see it, the slight twitch in his body, his hands closing into fists. He’s responding to you, to your scent. Such power you could hold over him if you were brave enough to try. 

Such power he could hold over you, if he wanted to. 

“You could come in.” You say, taking half a step back in invitation. 

He doesn’t move, still frozen there like a statue. You wonder how he stays so still, but that was probably part of his training. Be as steady as possible while shooting, how to be invisible even in broad daylight. “You're sure?” He finally rumbles out, his foot shifting just a centimeter, but you catch it. 

You shrug. “Why not? You are part of this pack. You could have entered sooner, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t have minded.” 

He hesitates for just a second before moving his foot from the tile and into your room. He pauses there for a moment, watching you, waiting for a reaction. It’s your turn to stay still, staring up at him as he makes the slow transition into your room, venturing into your sacred space, a place he’s never been in before. 

He moves the other foot, taking the first step over that line, pushing himself past that barrier, leaving it crumbling behind him. 

There’s no going back. 

Something shifts inside you as he enters your room, a weight you hadn’t even realized was there lifting off your shoulders. The hole in your chest is gone, the missing piece back in place. All the tumultuous emotions, all the stress and the fear and the anguish is gone. Your room is safe again, complete again with him in it. Tears prick at your eyes as relief floods through you. No one is getting in, no one can get in now, not with him here. You want to hug him, to kiss him again, drag him onto the bed and make him hold you for a while. 

You don’t. You stay still as he takes in your space, his eyes scanning your belongings and your decorations. He’s never truly seen it in the light. The only time he’d stared into it was that morning when you thought maybe someone had broken in, when your fear had fucked with your emotions enough to think they’d truly let someone enter without their knowledge. 

How silly that thought had been. 

His eyes move to your bed, landing on the giant bear wearing his black shirt. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at it as well, suddenly thinking you should have removed the shirt, shoving it into your laundry and moving the bear back to your desk. Yet, you want him to see it, want him to see that you tried to comfort yourself in his absence, tried to make a placeholder for him. You won’t need it now, though. Not with the real thing standing in your space. 

He shakes his head as he stares at it, rolling his eyes as he lets out a sigh. “Fucking hell.”

NEXT ->

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[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

New Assistant 

Smut (Defloration, first-time sex, deep penetration, creampie, whinging, rough sex, ass spanking, little aftercare, slave contract)

Chapter 17

3975 Words 

(It’s time for a new assistant with Irene getting busy with her new girl group. Luckily she has a junior assistant in training that is due for a promotion. As her new boss it is required for you to welcome her and break her in.)

The office has been busy since returning from San Francisco. Multiple meetings with project managers, clients, partner companies, and personal meetings. You previously met with JYP and suggested a survival show with the trainees from his company. He mentioned it would give it a twist when it comes to the creation of a girl group. 

At first, you were hesitant, but after much discussion about what it would look like, you decided to get on board. You even considered adding Mina as a contestant since you were confident in her skills. 

The only thing remaining would be to inform the trainees about their participation in a survival show, so you and JYP decided to hold a meeting with all the trainees.

The meeting went as you suspected; the trainees were nervous about their participation. The younger trainees saw this as a way to prove themselves and increase their chances of debut, while the older ones voiced their disapproval. 

Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and especially Jihyo were angry at JYP for even suggesting the idea after their failed attempts at debut. 

Jihyo cries from disappointment, with the other two comforting her, knowing how much they have worked for these past few years. 

The meeting ends, leaving a sour taste in your mouth, not knowing how to react. You should have gone with your gut, but it's too late to change your mind, and only for the best outcome. 

When you get back to your office, you discuss things with Jieun (IU) and understand the situation. Being closer to them, she has learned a few things and has learned how disappointed 3Mix would be with their recent failed attempt. They assumed that switching companies would have an easier path to debut, especially Jihyo, who has been in training for the longest time among the trainees in the company. 

“I can’t back out.”

”I understand, sir, but try to be a bit understanding.”

”I’ll try.

The room is silent; you can feel the tension in the air and ask, “What’s next on the agenda?”

”You have a meeting with Irene to discuss about Miyeon.” 

“When is that?

”Later today, it's your last meeting.”

”Thank you.”

———

You hear a knock, “Sir, it’s Irene.”

”Come in.”

”Thank you.” She stands in front of you with folders in her hands, waiting for you to look up at her. 

“Take a seat.”

”Yes.”

”Let’s get to the point. How is she doing?”

”At the beginning, she had a bit of an adjustment to her new schedule. She asked a lot of questions but began to pick things up at a reasonable pace. I also made sure she continued her education and decided to pursue higher education.”

”That’s great. Seems like these few months have been good for her.”

”Yes, I tried not to give her so much at the beginning and slowly increased her workload. Now that I’m in my group, she makes my duties easier.”

”Do you think she can take over your duties once you get busier?”

”With the basic stuff, yes. I haven’t even her any sensitive information yet.”

”Let me ask you one thing. Do you think she can be trusted?”

”She hasn’t let me down. So yes, I think she can, but I can't promise she won’t make a mistake.”

”Jieun suggested a contract like the two of you have as assurance.”

Irene looks perplexed about Jieun's suggestion, “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

”No, that’s a great idea. I should have mentioned it sooner.” 

In reality, Miyeon has grown on Irene throughout their time together. Hearing about binding her into a contract like the one she is in saddens her as she knows that Miyeon’s freedom will be stripped. 

“Here are her files, sir.”

You read over her report, the things she’s helped Irene with, and her newly gained skills as an assistant. You opened her health file and noticed that her birthday was recent, “Oh, she just turned eighteen. How nice.”

Irene clenches her fist, seeing your grin. She understands what you’re thinking and is disgusted by it.

”Yes, I bought her a birthday and a small dinner together.”

”That’s sweet.”

”Thank you, sir.”

You close her file and say, “Thank you for the report. I’ll have IU put together her new contract and set up a health check for Miyeon as soon as possible.”

”Is that really necessary?”

”I would have thought you would be happy. She’ll take over some of your duties unless you want her to?”

”No, I’m grateful,” but she just felt sorry for Miyeon.

”Okay, you can go now.”

Irene exits your office, defeated, and heads to meet her members in the training room.

——-

It’s been a few days since your meeting with Irene, and now Jieun and Irene are meeting with Miyeon. 

She’s nervous about the meeting, hoping it's about her effort as a junior assistant. 

She is greeted by Jieun and escorted to the conference room you use for private meetings. 

“Irene unnie, good morning.”

”Good morning, Miyeon.” 

They sit and discuss Miyeon’s position as a junior assistant. It’s most of what you and Irene talked about a few days ago, but now it comes to the main part. Irene mentions that she believes Miyeon can take on a larger role within the company. This makes Miyeon smile and happy about her efforts being looked at after her mistake a few months ago. 

“Irene and I would like to consider you for the position of one of the CEO’s personal assistants.” 

Miyeon looks surprised and at Irene sitting across from her, “Does that mean that I’ll be working in the same position as you, unnie?”

Irene replies, “Actually, I’ll be taking a small role since I am trying to focus on my group, but you’ll be working closely with Jieun.”

Jieun interrupts and asks, “What do you think? Would you be interested in the position?”

Miyeon immediately replies, “Yes, I’d love that. I want to prove myself to everyone here after my incident a few months back, so I would love to do my share.”

”Great, that’s the sprint,” says Jieun. “We figured you would accept, so I brought up a contract for the meeting. You know, just to make this official.”

”Yes, of course.”

She goes over the contract and covers the position as the CEO’s assistant, as well as some benefits.

”I talked to CEO-nim, and he said that you’ll be getting a biweekly salary and spending money.” 

Miyeon looks at the contract and is surprised by the amount, “Oh my god, isn’t that too much?”

”He wants to make sure you’re comfortable.”

”Thank you so much.”

”Of course. Also, this section talks about you moving in with the CEO and assisting in his daily needs, like taking notes, setting up meetings, getting his dry cleaning, making sure he has his meals and other miscellaneous things.”

”Oh, I’ll be living with him?”

She looks at Irene, worried, and Irene responds, “We’ve all done it at one point, mainly at the beginning. Once you get out of your probationary period, you will have the ability to move out to your own apartment like we did.”

“Oh, I get my own apartment?”

“Irene says, “Yes, like the one we live in. The CEO provides it for us.”

”Okay, I’m excited.”

”Down below are some of the perks that come with the job.” 

Miyeon looks at the list and is surprised by the amount of perks, each better than the previous one.”

”Where do I sign?”

Irene interrupts, “Wait, we also want to let you know that this job comes with sensitive information, so confidentiality is required.”

”Yes, I understand.”

”Are you sure? Would you like us to give you some time as you read over the contract to make sure that everything is okay?”

Jieun gives Irene a side eye, signaling to not step out of bounds.

She turns the numerous pages and skims over the large letters that talk about job expectations, payment, sickness, insurance, dental, memberships, education opportunities, a termination clause, and other issues that are in fine print. 

“Where do I sign?”

Jieun points at the numerous blank spaces that require Miyeon’s signature. After signing about ten pages, she gets to the eleventh page and asks, “I have fully read and understood the content of this agreement. I sign this document entirely of my own accord without any enforcement and accept any consequences if the agreement is violated or broken. 

Irene tries to get Miyeon’s attention, but Jieun stops her, allowing Miyeon to give her final signature and stamps her Dojang (family seal) as a signed agreement. 

A tear falls from Irene, knowing that Miyeon has sealed her fate as your newest toy. “Unnie, are you crying?”

”Sorry, it's just that…”

”Irene is just happy for you, that's all.”

“Aww, thanks, unnie. I’ll make sure to make you proud.”

Irene feels like she’s about to cry and says, “Oh wow, look at the time. I have another commitment to get to. I’ll take my leave, but Jieun will continue with your onboarding.”

”Thanks again, unnie.”

Irene walks away and exits the room, leaving Jieun and Miyeon alone. Jieun asks Miyeon if she has any questions, and they continue to talk for a while. Most questions are about the role and about the chance to debut in the near future. Jieun replies that anything about her debut is up to the CEO, but she and Irene can answer questions about the job.

Jieun then takes out a folder with Miyeon’s name on the front, “I have your health file right here. It shows that all shots are up to date and have no signs of illness; they are practically healthy.”

”Yes, I take care of myself.”

”It shows.”

Miyeon giggles at the compliment when she hears Jieun ask, “Miyeon, are you still a virgin?”

”Ehh?”

Surprised by the question, she tries to calm herself before answering in a shaky voice, “Ye… yes, I am.”

”Just wondering. Since of your previous mistake.”

There’s a moment of silence, causing Miyeon to feel nervous, but Jieun changes the conversation, “I’ll submit the paperwork today, and your new badge should be ready for tomorrow. Also, begin packing, and I’ll send someone to pick up your items in the morning. 

——

Miyeon has spent most of the night packing her belongings. She tried to talk to Irene but never got home. Waking up, she sees a message on her phone from Irene saying that she ended up crashing at her member’s dorm after practice and will see her later today. 

Miyeon hears a ring and sees it’s the workers from the moving company. They help take her belongings to the CEO’s condo, where Jieun greets them. She escorts you to your room, which is much bigger than the one she was in previously. 

After unpacking the necessities, Miyeon accompanies Jieun to her office, where she gets her new badge and a copy of her job requirements and daily and weekly assignments. 

“It’s going to be most of the things you do now, but over time, you’ll be responsible for what’s on the bottom of the list.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Also, this is what a typical schedule for the CEO looks like. Meetings throughout the day, but his mornings and evenings are mostly free, and there are gaps throughout the day.”

Miyeon looks at the schedule and sees an asterisk for the morning and late evenings. “What are the asterisks for?”

“The CEO might need your help in the morning. For the evenings, it’s just helping him after a long day at work.” 

“Oh, like a massage?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Oh, okay. I’ve done that before with my appa and eomma.”

“Nice. I’ll show you how it’s done since it’s your first time.”

“Thank you, Jieun unnie.”

“You can go home and unpack. Just meet me in my apartment around dinner. I want to go over some things with you.”

——

Miyeon meets Jieun at her apartment a few hours later. They both enjoy a simple dinner and talk about their personal life when she receives a notification that you arrived back at your condo.

“He’s back from his dinner. Let’s get ready and greet him.” She looks at Miyeon and says, “Come with me. I’ll give you some things to make sure you look presentable for today.” 

They exit the elevator and head towards the large doors. Using their pin, they enter the room and hear the shower. 

“Seems like he’s showering. Come with me.” 

Miyeon follows Jieun to the service room and starts to get undressed. Surprised, Miyeon asks, “What are you doing, unnie?”

“Get undressed, rinse yourself, and put this on,” as Jieun hands her a two-piece bikini.

Jieun looks at Miyeon as she shows a lost expression, “Quickly before he gets out.” 

“What are we doing?”

“Service.” 

“Ehh?” 

She helps Miyeon undress and pulls her to the shower. Miyeon tries to cover herself with her arm but is shocked by the cold water coming from the shower head. Miyeon’s mind goes wild, thinking of what type of service Jieun meant. 

After rinsing, they quickly dry themselves and put on their bikini before coming out of the service room.  

They see you swimming in your pool, going from one end to the other. Before reaching the sliding door, Jieun pulls Miyeon to the slide and whispers, “Make sure to do whatever he asks. He can be nice, but if you rub him the wrong way, he’ll make your life rough and even ruin your career.”

Miyeon nods nervously and follows Jieun, who slides the door open and walks towards the side of the pool. She waits until your head pops out of the water and waves at you. 

“Good evening, sir. I see that you’re enjoying your swim.”

”After a busy day at work, I couldn’t help myself. It’s such a stress reliever.”

”That’s great to hear. I brought Miyeon with me today,” and waves at you to step forward.

”Good evening, sir,” and bows her head.

”I see that Jieun is teaching you properly.”

”Of course. May we join you?”

”Yes”, giving a satisfied smile.

Jieun walks towards the edge of the pool, grabs the rail, and walks into the pool. 

You look at Miyeon, who is standing frozen, “Join us.” She nods and follows, walking slowly into the pool. She makes her way to where you two are and is surprised to see your hand on Jieun’s ass. 

Jieun giggles and gets closer to you, letting you grip her cheeks, “Nice and firm like always.” Jieun blushes, “I try to work out since you like it so much.”

You look at Miyeon and extend your hand, “Come, don’t be afraid.” Miyeon hesitates but remembers what Jieun said earlier and extends her hand. “Wow, Miyeon, you look great in that bikini.”

”Thank you…” trying to hide her face by tilting down. 

Suddenly she feels the touch of your hand on her ass and freezes. “Miyeon, you have such a soft butt.” There is no response, and Jieun speaks up, “I bet she’s happy about your compliment but is too shy to say anything. How about we spice things up a little?" and undoes her bra, letting it float to the top. 

You let your hand off of Mieyon’s asscheek and grab Jieun’s waist, pulling her towards you. She wraps her legs around your waist, and you go in for a kiss on her neck. Jieun moans, feeling your lips kiss her neck to her collarbone. 

Miyeon remains frozen, seeing you massage Jieun’s breast as you kiss her. She understands now what Jieun meant when she said “service” and realizes what her role as the CEO’s personal assistant meant. 

Out of nowhere, Jieun says, “Did you know that Miyeon is a virgin?” Miyeon sees your attention and immediately goes towards her. “Oh, really?” 

“Yes, her body was silky smooth as well.” 

You put Jieun down, walk towards Mieyon, and say, “Come with me.”

”Where are we going?”

”To the bedroom, of course.”

She looks back at Jieun, who follows behind them. Miyeon asks in a trembling voice, “I don’t want my first time like this.”

Jieun replies, “Remember what I told you earlier. You belong to him now.”

You take Miyeon into the bedroom, drop your shorts, and toss them into the hamper. “Undress, I want to see what I’m going to be working with.” 

Miyeon's body trembles at the idea that she’s going to lose her virginity in this manner. She assumed it would be with her boyfriend and a romantic setting, but instead, as your assistant. 

You say sternly, “Strip, while I’m being nice.” Miyeon flinches and undoes her bra, dropping it on the floor before moving on to her bottom. 

With her completely nude, you circle around and admire her body, small breasts, flat stomach, and pretty face. You get behind her, part her hair to the side, and kiss the side of her neck. 

Miyeon closes her eyes, foreign to a male’s touch. She tells herself that she can do it; her dreams of becoming an idol are much bigger, and she is willing to sacrifice her body for a moment that will change her life. 

You can see her shiver in fear, like a gazelle that’s about to be eaten by a lion. It turns you on, the feeling of having control of a female. You get closer to her, and she gets startled when you press your body against hers. She feels a thick, hot sensation touching her back and remains frozen. 

You whisper in her ear, “I’m going to give you two choices; you can  be in control of what happens to you, or I make the choices for you.” 

She is at least thankful that she can decide on how she’ll lose her virginity. “I can do it myself.”

“Alright, tell me what you want me to do.” 

Miyeon tries to come up with an idea quickly. She looks around and says, “Get on the bed and lay down.” 

You agree, head to the large white bed, and lie in the middle of it. She walks and climbs on the bed, sitting next to you.

With no idea what to do, she climbs on your thighs and stares at your cock. It's the first time she's seen a cock, and she is lost on what to do. She turns around and looks at Jieun, who is standing in the corner. “Miyeon, grab it with your hand and stroke it like this. Here, you use this.” With the bottle of lube in her hand she opens it, pours some on your cock, coating it. She uses her right hand, stroking it awkwardly at first. As she continues, it starts to get bigger, which makes her use both hands. 

“I don’t think it's going to fit inside of me.” 

You respond, “You don’t know until you try,” giving her a smirk. She turns around once more and looks at Jieun, hoping for her to save her. Instead, Jieun replies, “Miyeon, you got this. Hwaiting!”

There’s no way around it; she has a future to think about, and giving her virginity is a small price to pay. That’s what she is trying to make herself believe. It’s the only way she’ll be able to accept what she is about to do. 

Miyeon then grabs your cock and lifts herself off. She tries to align your cock to her entrance and is scared by how big it really is compared to her small entrance.

She lowers her body, pressing her lower lips against the mushroom tip of your cock, and stops. Miyeon looks at you with the look of someone who’s accepted her fate and control of her life to you and slowly drops her body. 

You feel your tip spread her lower lips, pushing into her virgin hole. She groans, experiencing being stretched this much for the first time. She stops when she reaches her thin barrier and looks at you once more before giving her a hungry smile. 

With her hands on your abs, she gives a hard drop; she gasps but immediately bites her lip. “Fuck, you’re so tight!” 

There’s no response, only her body trembling as she’s trying to quickly adjust to the pressure. You place your hand on her arm, but she waves you off. She immediately apologizes, “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just that I’m trying to get adjusted to your size.”

“Don’t worry, it’s expected.” You touch her arm once more, this time allowing you to embrace her. 

“Want me to take over?”

She nods, “Yes.”

You place your hands around her small waist and lift her, pulling her out from her cunt. “Bend over and get on all fours.” 

She does as she’s told and places her body on top of the large pillow. She presses her face against it and closes her eyes and she feels you press your cock into her cunt.

“Hmph… hmm…” 

She clenches the pillow, feeling your cock stretch her walls. She yelps when you hit the back of her womb, “Wait, wait, you’re breaking me!” You don’t respond and increase thrust inside her. She clenches her hands on the pillow as you use her body for relief. You want to make sure that her body gets used to your cock, especially her womb, since you’re its new owner. 

“Does it feel better when I take over?” 

There’s no response from Miyeon, so you raise your arm and give her a slight slap on her ass. She yelps and lifts her head, “Ow!”

You increase the pace of your thrust, your balls hitting her flesh, “Fuck, you’re going to be as great as my new toy.” Miyeon just continues to bite onto the pillow, listening to you talk about her position as your new toy.

Before long you’re about to cum and warn Mieyon on your orgasm nearing. “I’m going to cum.” Miyeon lifts her head, her mouth drooling, and pleads, “Please… outside… do it outside…” You scoff and say, “You’re in no position to throw out demands, I’ll cum wherever I want, and I always cum inside.” 

Miyeon feels your cock throb and releases a large wave of cum, flooding her walls and womb. “No! So much inside!” Your cum floods her womb to the brim; she can feel her womb getting addicted to your cum and cock, knowing that there is no coming back after this.

Jieun leaves after the second round and is satisfied, knowing she did a good job for her master. You continue to fuck Miyeon, round after round, until she passes out, and even then fuck her until you get your fill. 

Miyeon wakes late in the morning completely nude, and her lower body is completely sore. She tries to get up, but any pressure on her legs causes her to tremble and fall back onto the bed. 

“Miyeon, it’s me, Irene.”

”Unnie, come in.”

Irene comes inside, sees the mess, and feels sorry for what Miyeon just went through. “How are you feeling?”

”Horrible, I lost my virginity, and my body is completely sore.”

”I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

”Jieun said it was necessary if I wanted the slightest chance to make it in the industry.”

There’s a silence, and Irene breaks the ice and says, “Here, take this.”

”What is it?

”A morning-after pill.”

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 21

Batsis needs a vacation but someone else will start working on making her consider it behind the scenes😇

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 21 >>next

“It’s crooked.” Mark looked at the pillar he placed down before looking back at you. “Nuh-uh.” You give him a look. “The fuck you mean nuh-uh? Look at it- it’s leaning to the right.” Mark just nudged it to sit straight with his foot. “Nuh-uh, it doesn’t.” The blank stare you gave him made his neutral expression break for a second, amusement making his lip twitch. “Markus. Do not play with me right now.” At your empty threat, he simply laughs.

Your attention was brought over to Andressa and Nolan who were calling you two over. “We’ve completed a ship to take you home.” Andressa said while handing the baby over to you as Nolan placed a hand on your shoulder. ”I’ll miss you two greatly, make sure to visit.” Your eyebrow raised at his words. “You’re coming with us.”

The statement was met with a confused what from both men. “And our son will go with you.” Andressa continued. She also was met with the same shock and confusion. “It’s time you all returned to Earth. Don’t argue with me, Nolan. Each week I’m aging more and more. By the time our son will speak his first words, I’ll be long gone.” Her hands move to caress both Nolan and her son. “You two are so special to me, but my life will run its course far faster than either of yours. I’d feel terrible keeping you here for another month just to have you leave when I’m gone.”

“But the government- Debbie-“ Nolan’s stuttered confusion was met with a smile from the two women present. “We conspired behind your back.” You shrug. “Lawyers have already been contacted, Cecil’s on our side, for now at least, and will push everyone finding out about you for a while, and mom knows. About everything.” You nod towards Andressa, who simply smiles brighter at the silence of the two men. “I had to know what type of woman would raise my baby. You chose well.”

Nolan and Mark looked at each other, both trying to process what just happened. “You’ll be stuck on feeding and diaper change duties, by the way. Think of it as your start towards paying for your crimes.” You nudge your father before boarding the ship. “I told you I’ll make sure you repent for what you did.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I can’t believe you put us through a week of spaceship travel just to see dad change diapers and feed the baby.” Your dearest brother nudges into your mind. “Was it not fun to see him panic, fail, and look so betrayed when we wouldn’t help?” Mark huffs as he opens the front door. “Fair.”

You, Mark, and your baby brother walked in just fine, no problems, but as soon as Nolan stepped in he was met with a pan to his face, the body of it slightly molding to his face. “Huh. You were right.” Debbie’s voice was heard, making Nolan’s half-asleep mind go out of fight instinct. “I do feel better after hitting him.”

You just smiled while kissing your mom’s cheek, leaning into her hug as Mark joined. “My babies.”  She almost sings while squeezing you both, being mindful not to squeeze the baby too tight. While Mark pulled away sooner, you still lingered, only moving when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a message. “Oh, sorry mom. I have to go. I promised to see Talia as soon as I got back.”

She doesn’t take your littlest brother when you try to move him from your wrap carrier. “No. You should take Oliver with you, too.” Marks raised an eyebrow. “Oliver? You already named him? And after grandpa, too?” Debbie just shrugs. “We can’t call him baby. And I’m not letting your father name him like he named you, Markus. You should go too. I’m sure Amber misses you.” Locking eyes, you two immediately got the memo, so while Mark flew upstairs to change and go out the window, you quickly put an illusion spell on Oliver, his purple skin changing to a more human tone, and flew out of the house too.

“Debbie-“ Nolan started but his wife wasn’t having any of it. “I don’t care, Nolan. I really don’t. I’ve realized my life can go on without you. I don’t need you to help me raise my kids, I don’t need you to make me feel good about myself. I don’t need you. Period.” The woman crosses her arms. “But I can’t protect our kids in the same way you can. That’s the only reason I let you back into my house.”

“Cecil may be willing to help now, but I don’t trust him. There have been whispers of the Guardians having an inner war, whispers of the Justice Leagues doing something behind the government's back, which isn’t new, but Lois has been awkward with me lately, especially when the two B’s are brought up. She gets this guilty look. She’s keeping something from me.” The viltrumite’s muscles tensed at the mere mention of the bat. “He’s planning something, they all are, and I can’t do what you do.”

“You won’t have to.” Nolan reassures, hands itching to wrap around her, to soothe her worries. “I’ll deal with that. With everything… But we really should talk about us.” Debbie just sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. “We… should.”

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“Mother. I beg of you to stop.” Damian complained as Talia ran her hand through his hair, the tips of her fingers caressing his temple. “No. I’m your mother, and I have missed you.” The youngest bat sighs at his mother’s antics. “And stop fidgeting, she won’t bite your head off.” Her teasing is only met with a glare.

“I don’t know. Mom says she likes to bite people.” Jon shrugs, not noticing his friend tensing up. Talia’s chuckle is soft as she finally pulls her hand away from her son’s hair. “I said she won’t bite his head off. I never said she won’t bite.” The teasing only made Damian more nervous, his nostrils flaring, eye twitching.

“Stop scaring the kids, Talia. I don’t bite… Hard.” Your toothy smile didn’t ease Damian, who had stood up as soon as he heard your voice. Putting the fact that he hasn’t noticed you, burying it at the back of his head as a matter of fact, it was strange to see you without your costume. “I see we both brought our kids with us.” You smile at the two boys while introducing yourself and sitting down across the other woman.

“Is that yours?” Damian didn’t even introduce himself, his eyes were fixated on the dark-haired baby, already making plans on how to eliminate the alleged father. Jon cringed at the chosen words, kicking Damian’s shin gently. “Oh, no. I should have worded that better.”

You smile brightly as you ruffle the baby’s hair, messing it up even more. “This is my baby brother, Oliver. He got adopted recently, and mom needed a break, so he’s stuck with me.” This is so much worse. Damian would have preferred a nephew over a rival to the title of little brother. Talia took over as her boy was processing everything. “Well, they are having a school trip. This is Jon Kent, my son’s friend. And this is-“

“Damian al Ghul, my mother speaks highly of you. Nice to meet you.” His hand extended for a shake as he spoke. Talia’s face remained unmoving, but he could feel hers and Jon’s disapproving look. He chose to ignore it. “Nice to meet you, too.” Your constant smile eased his nerves, sitting back down while Jon greeted you as well. You took the other boy’s shaky smile as him being shy. Lois mentioned that once. “Oh, thank you for keeping my mom active and not letting her drown in all this mess, Talia- ”

The voice of Cecil ringing through your earpiece made you stop talking, giving the boys and the woman an apologetic smile as you started speaking to the old man. “Can’t this wait-… Look, I know you’re worried or whatever-…” You sigh, rubbing at your forehead. “What about Mark?... Alright. Fine, I’ll see you there.”

“You barely got back and are off to save the world again, huh?” Talia’s joking is met with a sad smile. “Sorry- I really have to help with this one-“ Damian quickly jumped at the opportunity. “We can help.” His words were met with a confused look from both women, but Jon saved him. “With the baby! We can help with the baby! I- I’ve babysat before, and we have an adult- I mean, you can’t just leave Ollie with your mom since she needed a break-“

While Jon kept on talking, your eyes met Talia’s, who smiled reassuringly at you. “We can take care of him. Don’t worry. We can go straight to my apartment. I’ll send you the address, and you can come and pick him up when you’re done.” You relent, letting Talia grab Oliver while you untie the wrap and hand it over, too. “Oh, here’s a jar of some food for him- he’s picky. And this is a gift for you.” You set on the table, next to the jar, a Thraxan flower encased in a clear quarts. “The quarts is magically made. It’s supposed to keep it from rotting and withering.” You shrug. “I remember you mentioning you miss your garden, and I sure miss mine. So, while this isn’t a garden, it’s something that you can carry around wherever you go. And I’m sorry to you both, if I knew, I would have gotten you two something as well-“

“Love. Thank you for the gift, but you’re rambling. Go before I decide to keep you too.” You pouted at her teasing. With one final goodbye and a kiss to Oliver’s hair, you left. Damian huffed at the baby, who looked at him before his mug scrunched up, burying his crying face in Talia’s shoulder. The scowl on Damian’s face only got bigger as Jon scolded him for glaring at a baby.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Getting stuck in such a small space with the Immortal was making you crazy, especially as he kept staring at you like a guilty pup. To say you were pissed was- sigh. Your nerves were still up, the League doing jack shit, the legal shit that the whole family was preparing for, and now this. “What?!” You snapped once he opened his mouth and closed it for the hundredth time, interrupting Eve’s and Mark’s shitty dad talk. The Immortal froze, his eyes looking around as everyone in the spaceship looked at them.

Black Samson took pity on him, mouthing “I’m sorry” to the man, pointing to Mark as well. “I- I’m… sorry. For what I said about both of you. It was uncalled for and out of misplaced anger.” Mark smirked at the man, unable to stop the words from coming out. “That sounds like you’ve been to therapy.”

“I have been. What your father did had nothing to do with any of you. You were just the closest thing to getting what I wanted. It was wrong of me to say that you both were ticking bombs. It took a while, but it made me realize that I haven’t been okay since… I’m sorry.” You finally turned from the screens of the spaceship to face the man. “Then you better act like it. Your apology is appreciated, but it’ll mean nothing if you act like we’re the enemy. There are bigger things to worry about.”

While The Immortal walked closer to you and started interrogating Shapesmith, Amanda leaned closer to Mark. “Are you sure they didn’t date?” Her whisper brought the attention of Samson, Bulletproof, and Eve, too, their eyes following how Mark leaned in closer, his smile dropping. “If he did… I’ll kill him.” Invincible brought his easy-going smile back up, moving away into his original position, ignoring the shocked looks. Zandale, despite the look he threw to Mark, brushed his words off as him being an overprotective brother.

“So what are we supposed to do now?” Your voice brought everyone’s attention back to the actual conversation. “Shapesmith...?” The worried tone in Rudy’s voice immediately made you look back at the screens. “Yes, those. Look. Th-Those are the missiles I was talking about.” Mark’s head snaps to the Martian. “Missiles?! Don't we have shields or something”

“This isn't Star Trek. We're unarmed.” Robot furrowed his brows at Mark’s question. “Everyone, close to me. Now!” Eve was quick to act once everyone was in range by creating a bubble around them. You sigh as everyone started talking over each other. “Can’t you teleport us inside?” Monster Girl groaned, making everyone that didn’t know question that. “No. I don’t know how the inside of the ship looks like. I could open a portal in the middle of an army of Martians, in the middle of a- a vat of acid or a garbage disposal-“

“Alright, everyone who can fly push towards the ship. I have a plan.” Eve cuts through, and everyone listens. Changing the atoms on such a delicate scale was quite hard, but walking right in the middle of rebel Martians was a better option than the middle of an acid vat or being immediately crushed and minced to hell.

“I bet the others are having a better day.” Amanda mumbled to you as soon as Zandale crushed the parasite, and the rumbling of the army of mid-controlling jellyfish coming for them could be heard. “Don’t jinx it. Everyone’s luck has been shit lately.” You sigh, preparing for the fight that’s about to come.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Master Bruce?” Alfred turned towards the tired man. “It’s for you- You should hear this.” The butler insisted, handing over the landline phone. Bruce sighed but took it from the old man. “This is Bruce Wayne.” The voice of Damian’s art teacher immediately made Bruce tense, thinking of the worst. The more the woman spoke, the more his worry turned to anger. “Thank you, Miss Jackson. It’s great to hear how much Damian has been missed.” His eye twitched. “And no worries- he’ll be back by next week. Oh- How is the school trip to Chicago going? He’s been muttering about it for a while bit.”

“School trip to- On, no. The poor thing is sicker than I thought. There are no school trips this semester, Mr. Wayne.” Bruce didn’t quite hear what she said after, his grip on the phone almost crushing it. This year was getting worse and worse. “Thank you again, Ms. Jackson. I may just have to take the boy to Chicago myself. He’s been such a good student and kid- he deserves it.”

He kept the act up, dropping his smile only when the call ended. Chicago. His son lied to him, lied to Alfred, lied to the school, to go on his own to Chicago. Why would he? The only thing happening there is-… The only things he could have gone there for are his sister and- … His sister and the Sorceress… The- his… no. There’s no way- Bruce stormed out of his office straight for the Batcave, ignoring Alfred completely. No. There was no way. Is that why she left? No- she couldn’t be-

Bruce almost squished Tim, the young man barely escaping the storming man. Bruce didn’t answer Tim’s questions, his fingers moving across the keyboard faster than they ever did. Age progression photos are subject to error. They are informed predictions, not set in stone stuff- but the more the man worked on it, creating three variations, one more leaning to his features, one leaning towards her mom’s, and the other a mix of them both- the more his heart dropped into his gut.

Once the photos were done, Tim brought up the maskless face of the Sorceress, straight from her social media. “I fucking knew it…” Red Robin growled. “That little demonic brat- He deleted the footage! I knew it!” The young man opened a slightly corrupted file he barely managed to recover, but the image of the Sorceress was as clear as it gets. “Can’t believe the fuckers went through my stuff.”

Bruce dropped into the chair. His child, his daughter, was the Sorceress. The Killer of the Joker. The kid Omni-Man had taken in and probably raised as a soldier. “Damian knew! He knew! That’s why-“ Bruce just sighs. “I know…” He had a lot of phone calls to make. Starting with Jason and the Kents.

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“Can’t hold it-“ Eve’s grunt made you act as quick as you could. “Pots eht setisarap ni emit dna ecaps!” The surge of magic that stopped the parasites, leaving them unmoving, left you slightly drained. You groaned as your feet touched the ground. “Hurry up- that won’t stop them for long.” Bulletproof looked at you, voice shaking as he asked how you did that. “Magic. Keep killing.”

The break gave Eve some time to regain some strength and gave Robot enough time to finish while the others did their best to level the field. “Could you make a shield if the spell you did wears off?” You cringed at the question. “I- maybe? I don’t know any specific spell for them, so I’d have to be quite careful with the wording if I go the on-the-spot route.” You shrug. “Done! Get this close to Russ and then press the button!” Robot held the device above his head, letting go when Mark grabbed it. And just in time for the spell to come undone.

The parasites squealed as the transmission was heard from the main host. “Alright, let’s grab the guy and leave-“ Your groaning was cut short as the Martian leader burst through the doors with his army.  “ Halt! You saved us from the sequids, and for that we are grateful.” The alien stated. “Yeah, you're welcome. Uh, look, we got to go-” Mark was interrupted by the leader.“But we cannot permit you to leave with the great betrayer. This is all his doing.” Shapesmith’s eyes met the leader’s. “You must remain here for punishment.” Marks sighs as you groan. “ What kind of punishment?” The answer was simple. Death. Your eyes meet Mark’s. “We understand.” You both said, nodding solemnly... And then you grabbed Amanda and Rudy while Mark grabbed the astronaut and Shapesmith. “Fly!”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The noise of everyone arguing only worsened your headache, your eyes fixating on the screen of the ship… Should be good enough. “ Srekcatta og kcab emoh.” With the spell finalized, the other Martian ships stopped and returned back. “That… works.” The Immortal hummed. “You’re speaking backward. I didn’t catch that before.” Robot turned to look at you. “Yep. It’s a form of magic Zatanna taught me. It’s harder than other forms of magic for me due to actively having to think about it… Zee makes it look so easy.”

“You met the Zatanna Zatara?!” Both Eve and Amanda seemed to geek out at the newfound information. “Yeah, she trains me sometimes. Mainly when John’s too lazy.” You shrug. “Dude, what is your life?” Amanda laughs. “A mess-“ you whined, leaning your head against the closest person.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You slowly entered Talia’s apartment through the open window, immediately being met with the image of an unimpressed Talia, a terrified Jon, a Damian who seemed ready to crash out, and a purple Oliver giggling. “We are so sorry!” Jon jumped in as soon as he saw you. “We swear this just happened- one second he was ok and then he just turned purple-“

“Take a breath, hon’.” You put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “He’s an alien, we’re trying to keep it low profile. The purple is his original color, what you saw before is an illusion. You did nothing wrong.” The teen immediately relaxed. “Oh thank god-“ He slumped down next to Damian. “You look tired.”  Talia spoke, moving Oliver higher on her hip. “I am.” You whine making grabby hands at Oliver. “Stay the night. I do not trust you to fly with a baby.” You pouted. “Talia, that’s real kind of you, but-“

“Are you really willing to risk the safety of your little brother?" Damian’s words were met with a half-hearted glare. “He truly is your son. Just as manipulative.” Talia laughed at your words, knowing they’d won this one as soon as you pulled out your phone to let your mom know.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams @djpuppy-kittens @wizzerreblogs @galaxypurplerose @burningkittenprince @swanluver

Chapter 22 sneak peek:

“Jason..?” Roy drawled out softly. “Are you okay? Have you taken too much of Scarecrow's gas, again?” Jason turned his head towards the man, grinning widely. “This may top Joker’s death.” Roy just sat up after processing it for a bit. “Okay… I’ll go get Selina… and maybe Harley too. You just- stay put, okay, buddy?”

[rizzanon]

update.

hello everyone. it’s been a while. but a lot has happened in these last few days and it’s a lot to take in. i will not share in detail, but i lost someone important to me recently. it was sudden and out of nowhere so it really caught me off guard. honestly, even now, i don’t know what to think about all of it. the last few days, i took the time to process this and grief because yeah, i can’t believe they’re actually gone. so i apologise for not being active here and for delaying chapter 6 of undoing fate.

to those who were worried about me and have been asking me if i’m ok in my inbox, i appreciate every one of you and thank you for caring. it truly means a lot to me. and for most of you who are waiting for me to drop chapter 6 of undoing fate, i apologise, as i will have to postpone chapter 6 for a bit. chapter 6 is unfinished when i last touched it, and it would be unfair to you all if i just posted something that i didn’t put my whole heart into, or if i just posted it unfinished and half-done. i probably should have posted a notice update sooner, but yeah like i said, i was grieving and still trying to process this recent loss.

i definitely won’t be dropping undoing fate, but i do hope you guys will be patient with me. i will definitely come back before the end of jan with the next (two) chapter(s) at least, and i promise it’ll be longer than the past chapters to make up for the time i was inactive. until then, i probably won’t be active on tumblr again for the next few days. i love you guys and wish you all well, and happy (belated) new year!

[latin5mamii]

Angel - Jude Bellingham

warnings: long chapter (1829 words)

genre: childhood best friends to lovers

summary:How could you know that a stupid nickname could change everything?

author's note: I know you've been waiting for this, and I'm so excited to finally share the latest chapter with you! I truly hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And yes, I might have left you hanging a bit, but trust me it’ll be worth it😌. I’m already planning to write the next chapter tonight. Plus I’d love to hear your thoughts—if you have any ideas or twists you think could make the story even more exciting, feel free to share them! last chapter

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“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

There he was, leaning against the door frame, looking effortlessly handsome as always. His presence seemed even more magnetic after the words he’d left you with the night before, words that had kept you awake, replaying over and over in your mind.

"We’ll have plenty of nights together, don’t worry."

You hadn’t slept much, but who could blame you? Thoughts of Madrid, of Jude, and of how drastically everything was about to change had swirled in your head all night. But now, with him standing there, his familiar grin melting away your worries, it all seemed to make sense.

“Good morning,” you mumbled back, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips as you sat up. Jude crossed the room in a few quick strides and wrapped you in a hug, his embrace warm and reassuring, as if promising that everything would be okay.

“This feels weird,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper against his chest.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes. “Weird? Why’s that?”

You shrugged, still struggling to put your feelings into words. “I don’t know… it’s just… surreal. Like this is all a dream or something.”

He smiled, that boyish, disarming smile you’d known since forever—the one that always made you feel safe, like nothing could ever go wrong as long as he was around. “I get it. But hey, you’ve got me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You chuckled, the tension that had been knotted in your shoulders slowly melting away. You held onto him a moment longer, savoring the comfort of being close to him, before finally letting go.

Jude, always the playful one, grabbed your suitcase with a grin and started heading towards the door. “Come on, let’s get moving before you change your mind,�� he teased.

As you watched him, it hit you just how surreal this all was. You’d never imagined that you’d be moving to Madrid with your childhood best friend, the same boy you used to chase around the playground, the same boy whose grandma used to joke you’d end up marrying one day. You’d laughed it off back then, never believing it could really happen.

But now, here you were. You thought back to when he first started getting famous, when he left for Dortmund, then Real Madrid, and how much you’d missed him. The messages, the late-night FaceTime calls, the way you both tried so hard to stay in touch despite the distance.

But now, one question lingers in your mind.

You're literally going to Madrid with your childhood best friend for who knows how long, the same one you made out with once after sharing a bed, and who constantly flirts with you.

You didn’t want to ask him that question because, well, he’s famous and has other things to think about. But the thought wouldn’t leave your mind.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, by the way,” his voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He knew how much you loved surprises.

“What is it?” you ask, a playful smile on your face.

“Wait and see.”

As soon as you arrive at the airport, the car takes a different turn from the usual route, stopping in front of a smaller yet equally impressive plane. Now you understand what the surprise was. And you felt a little silly for not realizing it sooner: Why would someone so famous take a commercial flight when they could afford a private jet?

As you stepped out of the car, your eyes still wide with surprise at the sight of the private jet in front of you, Jude chuckled and took your hand in his, leading you toward the sleek aircraft. His touch was warm and familiar, like it had always been since you were kids. But now, with everything that had changed, the fame, the move to Madrid, the endless possibilities ahead,his hand in yours felt different..

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised by this,” he teased, his grin contagious as you reached the steps of the plane.

“I mean, I should’ve seen it coming, but come on, Jude,” you said, giving him a playful shove. “A private jet? Really?”

He shrugged, still holding your hand as you both boarded. “Gotta travel in style now, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. 

The interior of the jet was even more luxurious than you’d imagined. Soft leather seats, a spacious layout, and every inch of it screaming luxury. Jude plopped down onto one of the oversized seats, pulling you down beside him before you could even take it all in.

“Get comfy, we’ve got a few hours ahead of us,” he said, stretching out as if the whole plane was just his personal living room.

You never thought you'd experience this. You remember when in the past Jude and Jobe used to fight a lot, and you just brought peace to them, that’s one of the main reasons their mom loved you.And that feels like yesterday and now everything changed.

As you sank into the soft leather seat beside Jude, you couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, the weight of it all finally starting to sink in. Jude turned to look at you, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“What’s funny?” he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

You shook your head, still caught up in the whirlwind of memories. “Just thinking about how different everything is now. I mean, you used to fight with Jobe all the time, and I’d always have to step in and keep the peace. Now you're taking me to Madrid on a private jet.”

Jude chuckled, leaning back in his seat with a lazy grin. “Yeah, well, you were good at keeping us in line. Still are, actually.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Come on, Jude, don’t start.”

“Still,” he said, nudging you playfully, “you’re younger, and I’m always going to be the one looking out for you. That’s just how it is.”

You huffed, pretending to be exasperated. “Four months, Jude. Four.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied with a smirk. “Still the older one, and I’m still going to protect you.”Jude gave you a smug smile, leaning back in his seat.

You rolled your eyes, smirking as you fired back, “From who? Jobe?”

Jude chuckled, nodding as if he were genuinely considering it. “Yeah, he can be pretty evil sometimes.”

You shook your head, laughing at the thought. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, shaking your head with a smile. His playful banter, the way he could always make you feel at ease, was exactly what you needed.

But there was something else you’d been thinking about—something you weren’t sure you should say. The words slipped out before you could stop them.

“When you were in Madrid,” you started, your voice a bit more hesitant than you intended, “I used to check the news about you. You know, just to see what was going on.”

Jude turned his head toward you, intrigued. “Oh, yeah? Keeping tabs on me?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile faded as you continued. “Well, yeah… but not just for fun. There were times when I’d come across people calling you arrogant, or childish, and it kind of freaked me out.”

Jude blinked in surprise, his playful expression faltering for a second. “Freaked you out? Why?”

You hesitated again, not wanting to sound dramatic. “Because… I didn’t know if you’d changed. I mean, all those articles and posts made you sound like someone I didn’t recognize. And I guess I was scared to see you again, scared you wouldn’t be… you.”

There was a pause as Jude processed what you said, and you felt your heart thudding in your chest, waiting for his response. But instead of going serious, like you expected, he grinned—full-on, mischievous Jude.

“Oh, so you thought I’d turn into some big-headed superstar, huh?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “What, did you think I was going to show up wearing sunglasses indoors and demand people call me ‘Mr. Bellingham’?”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, your worries easing as his joke broke the tension. “No! But—”

Jude leaned in, his grin widening. “Or maybe you were scared I’d start talking about myself in the third person. ‘Jude Bellingham doesn’t wait in line.’ ‘Jude Bellingham only flies private.’”

You shook your head, laughing even harder now. “Stop! That’s not what I meant!”

He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with mock arrogance. “You know what? Maybe I should start doing that. Sounds kind of fun.”

“Oh, please,” you said, playfully swatting his arm. “You’d be unbearable.”

Jude laughed, the warmth in his voice settling your nerves. “Nah, I get it. People love to talk. But you should’ve known better.I’m still me. Just with a bit more style and better hair.”

“Better hair, huh?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “That’s debatable.”

He reached up, running a hand through his hair with exaggerated pride. “Debatable? This is prime hair right here. You’re just jealous.”

You rolled your eyes again, but the lightness in your chest was undeniable now. The Jude sitting next to you wasn’t the arrogant football star the tabloids sometimes made him out to be. He was still the same guy who used to annoy you with dumb jokes and competitive childish games, and still, the same guy who made you feel safe and at home.

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Jude's house was incredible, a dream come true. He had told you about it before, but you never imagined it would be like this. You felt an overwhelming excitement, knowing you were experiencing something that millions of people could only dream of.

"Like it?" he asked, as he unloaded the suitcases from the car.

 You were surprised because you thought someone else would do it for him, but it seemed he was doing it himself just to spend as much time with you as possible. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered, just as they always did whenever he was near.

You nodded, a little breathless. “Yeah, I mean… it’s unreal, Jude.”

He flashed that familiar boyish smile, the one that made your stomach do flips. “Wait ‘til you see inside.”

And he was right. The inside was even more stunning than you imagined—high ceilings, sleek furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased a breathtaking view of the city below. You followed Jude through the living room, your eyes wide as you took it all in.

“I feel like I’m in a magazine or something,” you said, spinning in a slow circle to take everything in.

Jude chuckled as he dropped your bags at the base of the stairs. “Well, I did say I had more style now, didn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll give you that one.”

He came up behind you, resting a hand lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel the warmth of his touch. “Hey,” he said softly, his tone a bit more serious now. “Do you want to go grab dinner? I know it’s been a long day, and there’s a place nearby I think you’d love.”

You glanced up at him, surprised but touched by the gesture. “Dinner? Right now?”

He nodded, his eyes soft and inviting. “Yeah. Just you and me. What do you say?”

You didn’t have to think twice. “Sure, sounds perfect.”

A smile broke across his face. “Great. Give me ten minutes, and we’ll head out.”

True to his word, Jude was ready quickly, and soon, you were heading out together.. The restaurant he’d chosen was chic but not overly formal, nestled in a quiet part of the city.

 As you both sat down at a cozy table near the window, the ambiance was perfect: low lighting, soft music, and just enough privacy for you to feel like it was your own little world.

Jude ordered a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for each of you.

“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a teasing smile, “on a scale of one to ten, how jealous do you think Jobe is knowing that you’re with me now?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, he’ll surely give it back to me in a while”

Jude’s grin widened. “Yeah, well, too bad for him. You’re all mine now.”

The way he said it sent a flutter through your chest, and you couldn’t help but blush. He noticed, of course, and leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering just enough to make your heart race.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me now,” he teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I’m not shy” you protested, trying to hide your smile as you took a sip of your wine.

“Right,” Jude said, leaning even closer across the table. “You’ve never been shy a day in your life.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. “You’re annoying”

You weren’t sure who made the first move. Maybe it was him, maybe it was you, or maybe it was both of you leaning into the inevitable. But suddenly, his hand was brushing lightly against your arm, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down to your wrist. It wasn’t much, just a simple touch, but it felt like everything.

His gaze dipped to your lips, and your heart raced in your chest as he took another sip from that glass. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and rough, barely above a whisper.

“Do you ever think about it?” he asked, his breath ghosting over your skin.

You blinked, your heart pounding as you met his gaze. “Think about what?”

He swallowed, as if debating whether to say it out loud, and then, in a voice barely audible, he said, “When we kissed.”

Your breath caught in your throat, memories of that kiss rushing back to you—the way it had felt so easy and so right, yet so confusing at the same time. You haven’t talked about that since it happened, maybe it was time

“Jude…” you started, but your voice faltered.

He didn’t let you finish. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

You shyly smiled, breaking eye contact and looking down, feeling the warmth of his words flush through you. Without knowing how to respond, you took another sip of your wine.

Jude noticed your reaction, letting out a soft chuckle. Leaning in close, his breath tickling your ear as he had to reveal a secret, he murmured,

“We should talk about this at home, shouldn’t we, Angel?”

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊　

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 9, Guess who's back

Masterlist Word count: 2 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Now that you've all had a nice portion of smut, here's some more angst <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

It's early in the morning but you feel like heaven is being bestowed upon you by God's favorite angel. You try to squeeze your thighs together as you stretch your body in your sleepy state, but they are held down.  

When you look down, you see your angel. A perfect picture of worship, pleasure, and sex. Just as he had promised when he offered you a free trial. His eyes are almost screwed shut, completely lost in the sweet nectar between your thighs. 

A rumbling feeling of pleasure builds up in you stomach as he splays his hand over top and pressed you down a little. You hadn't even noticed you started grinding against his face. His eyes are open now, wide awake, taking in every little detail of your body, your face, your movements. 

You untangle underneath him, thighs squeezing together but it does not matter. Sylus is far too strong to let himself be crushed by your thighs. Though he has tried to get you to do so in the past few weeks. 

The waves of pleasure subside, and he lays down next to you, pulling your body against him to cuddle. His thick cock is half hard, but you can feel his release against your skin. For some reason, that never wore off. He's always excited to eat you out. So much so that he comes himself nearly every time. 

When he does not wake you like this, you wake him the same way. Only difference is that he doesn't let himself finish until he's inside you. Or at least, he tries to. 

'Morning sweetie,' he grumbles against your neck, leaving adoring kisses littered over you skin. A smile spreads across your face as you press a kiss to his forehead. 

'Morning love.' 

'Do we have any plans today?' 

'I have to get packing for my trip with Zayne.' He groans in disagreement. 'Don't be like that. I told you you could join.' 

'Too many memories,' he says, his voice barely audible. You grab his chin and lift his face so that he's looking at you. 

'I know you don't want to talk about it and I know that you are healing, but we are going to have to talk about it one of these days,' you tell him in the gentlest voice you can manage. He nods and presses a kiss on you lips. 

'Then let me take this weekend to collect my thoughts. I'll be ready to talk to you after your trip.' 

'No,' you reply sternly, 'if this thing is as bad as I feel it is, you are not going to ponder over it all on your own for a whole weekend. Just tell me when you're ready.' 

'Okay.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Your annual trip with Zayne once started just a few months after he moved in on complete accident. The trip was supposed to be with Tara, but she got terrible food poisoning the day before you two were supposed to leave. At that point, everything you two booked was nonrefundable. In a moment of despair, you went to Zayne and asked him if he'd like to go with you. This was just a few days after he started dropping off leftovers at your door. You figured it wouldn't be a terrible idea. 

If only you had known back then that it would lead to the most valuable friendship you have, you would've done it even sooner. 

The annual trip is always a weekend. A few things you two decided at the start is that it should be doable by car so that you two could leave Friday morning and return Sunday evening, only having to take one day of annual leave.  

Friday evening is always Zayne's turn to pick the restaurant because he likes to plan ahead. You pick on Saturday after strolling through the city all day. Surprisingly, both choices have never turned out all that terrible. 

When getting to the hotel on Friday, there is a mandatory one-hour nap. After that, it's time to explore the city. Then it's dinner, drinks at the hotel bar, reading together in the same room, going to sleep in separate rooms. 

On Saturday, Zayne has usually chosen a short nature hike in some nice scenery nearby. Then it's showering, going out to have lunch at some mom-and-pop shop, a little shopping, museum visits, and then dinner. After the whole Saturday you two usually retire to your own rooms right away, but sometimes there's some cuddling while one reads to the other. 

Then Sunday morning is "free time." Each does whatever and you meet up for lunch. After that is the drive home. 

It's truly not all that thrilling but you enjoy it majorly. You just love being around Zayne. 

Despite all that, you do have a strange iffy feeling about leaving Sylus behind. Maybe one day, when Zayne also has a partner, you could all go together. But right now, something just doesn't feel right. You have no clue what it is. Sylus was fine when you left, the house was fine, you checked your luggage three times. Still, it keeps nagging at the back of your head. 

'Are you alright?' Zayne's voice snaps you out of it. 

'Oh, yeah,' you hum in response, 'just a little worried about Sylus. I have this weird underbelly feeling I can't shake.' 

'Why don't you call him when we get to the hotel?' 

'I will,' you say with a smile, 'thank you for understanding.' You notice that strangely empathetic look in Zayne's face again. He knows something you don't and you know it's not his place to tell you, but you feel like you're out of the loop and it stings. 

'Did you two talk already?' You shake your head and cross your arms, leaning back in the passenger seat of his car. 

'He isn't ready to tell me yet. I get it, but it stings sometimes.' Zayne nods. 

'He'll tell you soon. I'm sure.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Being alone in his apartment shouldn't be strange to Sylus, but without your laughter it suddenly feels empty. He put on some music, but without you dancing around his living room it's not quite what he's used to.  

It's so strange. It has only been a few weeks, two months maybe, but he can't shake this feeling that he cannot go without you. You had given him your house key a few days back. Back than you explained that he would come over anyway, so what would it matter if he let himself in? Would that offer still stand now, when you're not there? 

He turns off his music and goes out into the hallway. It's just a few steps to your apartment but he gets interrupted. 

'Would you look at that. Long time no see, Sylus.' That voice. It scrapes it his head like nails on a chalkboard. His whole body tenses up as he looks down the hallway. It's her. She looks smug, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed as she looks Sylus up and down. Every inch of hair he has is standing straight up. 

'What are you doing here?' She pushes off the wall and saunters a few steps closer. Sylus doesn't want to take a step back, he doesn't want to be under her thumb again. It seems she's considering what to tell him, as if she hasn't quite thought of what she's doing here yet. 

'Visiting a friend,' she decides, 'you?' 

'Same,' he chooses to answer. After all, she was the first to leak his address. Better to be safe than sorry. She looks him up and down again and he realizes he's still wearing his house slippers and clearly coming from the last apartment with a key in his hand. She's always been very observant, so he doesn't doubt she knows exactly what he's doing here. 

'Hm,' she huffs, running her tongue across her lower teeth, 'doesn't look like it.' She takes another step closer, clearly liking how nervous he looks. 

'I don't have to explain myself to you.' 

'No, of course not,' her lips pull into an evil grin, 'but I can tell you want to.' The hallway feels ice cold, Sylus can feel himself shiver. With a slight quirk of her lips, she relaxes her body. 'Okay, don't tell me. I know you're probably hooking up with some girl for your little porn videos.' Her tone is so demeaning, it feels like a punch to the gut. Sylus has to keep himself from physically doubling over. 'I guess I'll see you around.' 

'I'd rather not,' he manages to say, his voice luckily keeping a steady tone. She pushes out her bottom lip, trying so hard to look hurt but her eyes are dead. There's no soul behind them, just a shell of a human with evil intent. 

'Ouch, I'm hurt darling. We had some fun.' She tries to reach out for him, but he flinches back. Her grin reappears. She got exactly what she wanted. 'See you soon, Sylus.' 

He watches her turn on her heel and walk down the hallway to the other end. Near the end of the hallway, she pulls out a key and sticks it in the lock. She turns her head to Sylus and sends him a wink. 

When she disappears into the apartment, Sylus feels physically sick. He runs into your apartment and bents over the toilet but nothing comes out. There he sits, a weak, pathetic man still under the thumb of his ex. A million questions run through his mind. 

"Why is she here?" 

"Did she know I live here?" 

"Is she really living here or is she visiting?" 

"Why does this have to happen now? Things were so good." 

"What do I do now?" 

The sound of his phone ringing pulls him out of it. He leans against the cold tile wall of your bathroom as he takes his phone out of his pocket, still feeling queasy. It's you. For a second he considers not picking up, but he knows he can't. He takes a second to breathe before picking up. 

'Hey sweetie, how was the ride?' It stays silent for a little bit. The nerves from just now have not yet subsided and a whole new wave washes over him when you don't talk. 'Sweetie?' 

"Are you okay?" Shit, his voice has betrayed him. 

'Of course. Why do you ask?' 

"You sound weird, and I've been having this weird feeling that something happened." Thank fuck for your superstition. He can get out of this without making you want to return from your trip early. 

'I just worked out and-' 

"You didn't," you say, cutting him off, "you never work out on Fridays. I know you better than that." It's his turn to fall silent. He wipes his cheek with the back of his hand to wipe off something itchy. When he pulls his hand back, he sees a wet spot. He's crying. 

'I'm fine.' 

"You're not. Please don't lie to me." He hates how you know him so well already, hates that you can tell he's not alright, hate that you care so much for him. At this moment he just wants you to take his words for truth. "Alright, I'm going back." 

'No, please don't,' his voice trembles. 'I want you to enjoy your time. Please.' 

"Fine, but then you're driving up here. Something clearly happened and I don't want you to be alone." 

'No, this is your time with Doctor Zayne. I wouldn't want to-' 

"Zayne! Can Sylus join us tomorrow?" "Of course." Doctor Zayne speaks without hesitation. Sylus can't quite wrap his head around why he would be so kind to him. It doesn't matter though. You've made up your mind, so: "You're coming." 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

After dinner, you and Zayne sit down with your books but neither of you is in a mood to read. He places his book on his lap and turns to you. 'So what happened with Sylus?' 

'I don't know. He wouldn't tell me, but he sounded terrified.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

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[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Eight: Nevermind The Trailers, Here's The Main Event

warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, sending nudes through text, love confessions, semi-public fingering pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: the two of you are navigating the waters after your last encounter. Nanami surprises you during a date and it ends with the two of you officially cementing what this relationship means for the two of you. a/n: HERE IT IS! The next chapter! We have love confessions and then some! More to come sooner than later, I promise!

taglist: @cherryblossombankai @kenpachisbrat @benkeibear @harlekin6

@brokennerdalert @marikuchanxo @gennaray

@sugurusprettygirl @hazzelle-kento @pixelcafe-network

Masterlist

The following weeks sees you and Kento spending almost every waking moment together. It’s known on campus that you two are the cutest couple ever. Most girls watch you in awe as you have the most romantic man charming you every time he’s around you. Even the girls who caused you problems during the party seem to be jealous.

On Kento’s side of things, not only does he feel more confident with your relationship being more stable, he also feels like things are looking up for him for the first time in so long. The thoughts of returning to the sorcerer world are pushed aside for the daydreams of a future with you. He fantasizes about maybe having a family with you once you’re both done with school.

Things couldn’t get any better, really. And now that you two were both comfortable in your positions at school and with each other, it was only going to get better from there.

Kento spends a lot of time with you in your dorm. He’s happy to shower you in affection. He’s so much more layered and complex than you previously could have imagined. He shows you parts of himself that even he keeps tucked away from himself. He’s honest and kind, always wanting to talk to you about all kinds of things. 

The only thing that sort of lingers between the two of you is his virginity. You know you’d love to go that far with him, but you still want to tread comfortably. You two have just gotten together for real recently and to push the subject could make him uncomfortable. So you decided to just continue the way it’s been going and see where things go.

For the first time, Kento is now debating on whether or not to send you a nude. He’s got picture messaging on his phone and you two have been official for a few weeks now with nothing else going on. He wants to show you that he is, in fact, still interested in pursuing something sexual with you as well as romantic.

He’s pacing around in his room. Over the summer, he regained a bit of muscle mass. He had been going to the gym regularly to occupy his time. So he knows he doesn’t look bad. It’s just…how do you even take a good picture to send as a nude?

He groans as he tries different angles, but he thinks he looks stupid in every single one of them. After about twenty deleted pictures, he throws himself on his bed and whines. It’s frustrating to try and be sexy. He knows he doesn’t have to try too hard, but he wants to. He wants to look good for you.

Then he decides to take a shower. Once he’s got his clothes off and the bathroom is nice and steamy, Kento realizes just how perfect this set up is. Finally, he grabs his phone and snaps a picture of him with his shirt off and his cock in his hand. Looking at it, he finds himself actually impressed.

Your phone vibrates as you sit in your dorm studying. You smile when you realize it’s a text from your boyfriend. When you open it, your eyes widen. You don’t know that you’ve ever seen Kento so confident as he looks in this picture. 

The thought of him taking this photo for you has you really riled up. You settle on your bed, your studies forgotten for the moment. You push your pants down and tease yourself through your panties. With your free hand, you snap a picture of your panties pushed to the side and your slick dribbling down your thighs.

Miss you.

He sees the message before going into the shower, and he gets even more confident. He strokes his cock a few times, squeezing the head gently to make some precum pearl at the tip. Then he sends you a picture of that.

See you soon, beautiful.

The next time you two see each other, you’re both blushing. It’s a shared secret. Something that only the two of you understand. And it makes you feel even closer together. Soon, he’s talking about taking you out on a date over the weekend.

He meets you in the parking lot outside the dorms. You look so adorable, dressed in a plaid skirt and a band t-shirt. His eyes widen and he smiles when he notices it’s the shirt he forgot in your dorm one time. You grab his hand and the two of you start walking towards the movie theatre.

“I’m really excited for this,” you say softly.

“Me too. It’s been a while.”

Ever the gentleman, Nanami pays for the tickets, the snacks and he carries everything to your seats. It’s in the very back of the theatre. It’s nice to have these dates. It reminds you of why you really fell for the guy in the first place. He shows you his charming side, when everyone sees just this brooding, moody emo kid.

The trailers begin and the sound is booming as the screen shows you previews for a romcom first. You both laugh at how cheesy it is, but it still seems funny enough for the two of you to wonder if you’d like to come see it. The next trailer is a gory slasher flick, which piques both of your interests. Following that are some ads for some bank, the snacks at the concession stand and then there’s one last trailer for a historical piece before your movie starts.

At first, the movie was very captivating. You and Kento can’t look away, even as you munch on some hot, buttery popcorn and sweet chocolate. Then halfway through, the movie shows its true colors and you realize that it’s going to be very disappointing. You whine and rest your head on his shoulder, and Kento chuckles at just how cute you’re being right now.

One thing leads to another, and you kiss him. He kisses you back, letting you take the lead on this for the time being. He’s not wanting to press things, considering you’re in a movie theatre and getting caught would really suck if you wanted to return for another date.

But the thought of you teasing yourself in those panties when you sent that nude has his blood boiling. It’s been a few weeks since the two of you had any kind of intimacy. He’s growing hard with every little kiss you give him. It’s almost like you’re trying to tease him on purpose.

He looks at you slyly as he pushes your skirt up just a bit. Then you bite your lip to hold in your moan as he begins to rub your clit through your panties. You were wearing silky ones this time, just to spice things up for your date.

The gasp you let out when he pushes them aside and parts your folds has him chuckling. You glare at him, but you’re spreading your thighs even more. He’s so much more confident now than he’s ever been. You remember the first time you two kissed, and how he was such a needy guy back then. Now Kento was calling the shots and you were loving it.

“Try to be quiet, baby.” He whispers in your ear before kissing your neck.

Two of his fingers slip into you, making you let out such a cute little moan. Thankfully the theatre is nearly empty and you’re sitting far away from everyone else. Kento begins to thrust his fingers into you, curling them against your sweet spot. His cock is throbbing but that’s not what’s important here. What’s important is that you see stars.

His thumb rubs your clit in time with his slow and meticulous movements. Every second is agonizingly pleasurable. Your eyes roll back in your head and you begin to hump his hand. It feels like so long since you were able to get off on his long fingers. Kento smirks when he sees just how needy you are right now. You’re just a mess, dripping all over his fingers.

“Cum for me,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sensual kiss.

He keeps your moans muffled as your walls begin to pulse around his digits. Kento keeps kissing you, drawing out every little bit of pleasure from you. Then slowly, he pulls out of you and brings his fingers to his lips to lick them clean. You pant as you try to catch your breath. You’ve got a few minutes to clean yourself up and straighten up before the credits begin rolling.

He grabs your hand and guides you out of the theatre. The night air feels so good on your sweaty skin. You feel so giddy. Your heart is racing and your tummy is still full of butterflies. You kiss him over and over, and he smiles sweetly.

“Be mine,” you say. “Be my boyfriend.”

He blushes. “I…I would love to.”

You grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him so deeply. Kento wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. You’re both tucked away on the side of the entrance, away from the rest of the world. The rest of the world could disappear and none of that would even matter to you and him.

“I love you,” he finally says once more. 

You smile. “I love you too. I have for a long while now.”

It feels so good to finally say those words out loud with the person you love. It’s so natural, but it feels like this explosion of emotions has gone off inside of you. You feel like you’re shaking, and Kento feels similarly. He can’t quite wipe the stupid grin off his face.

“I want you,” he whispers in your ear. “Want you to be the one who takes my virginity.”

This makes your heart skip a beat. The words sound so sensual, even though he hasn’t really said anything dirty. You look up into his eyes and you notice just how dark they are. He looks very serious too, like he didn’t just ask you to be the first person to fuck him.

“...I want you too. Whatever you want, you can have that with me.”

He kisses you again, this time it’s a lingering kiss. His thumbs caress your cheekbones. He holds you close to him, like you are the only thing in this world that has any kind of meaning to him.

“I will always love you.”

The words feel warm inside of you. They make a warmth blossom so deep inside and it’s visible on your face. Kento smiles now too, loving the way you look at him like he is the only man who could ever make you smile.

“I will always love you too.”

With your fingers intertwined, Kento walks you home under the twinkling stars.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.4

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Chapter Notes: Brief mention of the red room nothing crazy

Summary: Natasha is nervous about finally having some personal time with Wanda’s family. You help her fight through those nerves. Meanwhile Wanda struggles to come to terms with how much of your growth she missed.

An: Posting consistently again got me feeling in my prime. No promises, but might post chapter 5 later this week instead of next monday.

Series Masterlist| Masterlist

Once you were done with work, and had your flowers for Flora, you were ready to go to the Maximoff’s house. You’d sent a quick text to Dragos telling him that you’d bring Natasha with you, to save them an extra unnecessary trip.

You pack your things quickly and head to the car, Natasha follows behind you. When you get in the car, you finally notice the subtle nervousness of Natasha.

“Are you scared to meet Wanda’s mom?”

Natasha nods a little, “It’s more than that. You guys are the most important people in her life. She told me so herself. Dragos doesn’t like me yet, Pietro and I really just looked at each other, and I heard Flora’s got high standards when it comes to partners.”

“Well, they are the kindest people you could ever meet. All they'll care about is that you keep Wanda happy,” you insist.

“I think the kindness goes out of the window, when you find out your daughter got married to a Russian spy that tried to kill her,” Natasha mumbles.

 You try to offer her some comfort, “I’m not going to argue with that but, you’ll get a little break, when I tell them I like you.”

“Really?”

“If Wanda told you all about me, then you should know they've got a soft spot for me,” you’re a little embarrassed when you say it, but it’s the truth.

If Natasha notices your embarrassment, she doesn't bring it up, “Wanda says you’re basically a Maximoff every time she tells a story about you.”

You smile, “I like to think of them as my family too. There’s been plenty of times where I want to call Dragos, papa. That means there’s even more times when I want call Flora Mama.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t want to take the chance and ruin our dynamic.”

The Russian sighs as the house comes into view. “I think they’d both love it. The way Wanda tells it, they feel as though you're one of their kids.”

You park the car before answering Natasha, “Maybe one day.”

With the hydrangeas in hand, you head to the front door. Natasha tries to walk behind you, but you pull her forward so she’s next to you.

“This is a family you have to face head on. Those uncertainties you have, keep them close to you. Don’t let them see your nerves because they’ll pounce. Just remember that you love Wanda, and she loves you too,” your attempt at a pep talk seems to calm her nerves a bit.

“You said they were nice people. Nice people don’t have warnings.”

You roll your eyes, “Natasha you secretly married the daughter of a crime lord without ever meeting the family, there’s a shitload of warnings.”

The door swings open before you have the chance to knock. You find yourself being pulled into a warm hug. It’s only a moment before Flora’s hands land on your face. She turns your head a couple times checking that you are fine, before planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Y/n, where have you been sweetheart? Too old to come see me anymore, huh? You’ve got bags under your eyes Malysh, have you been sleeping ok?”

You smile warmly at her antics, “I’ll never be too old to come visit my Flora. As a sorry, for being away I brought you these.”

Flora takes the flowers from you. “Always knowing how to get into my good graces, these are beautiful Y/n.” Her eyes dart to Natasha and you watch as her features go neutral.

 “You must be Natasha.”

The red head extends her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs.Maximoff.”

Flora shakes her hand, “Yes, if only we could've done this sooner. “

Natasha doesn’t shift at the words, but you can feel her nerves from besides you. Flora beckons you both into the house and you follow her into the kitchen. She grabs a vase for the flowers and begins to fill it with water.

“So, why Natasha?” She says as she places the flowers in the vase.

“I’m sorry?” Natasha is confused by the question.

Flora keeps her eyes on the flowers, “Why’d you pick the name Natasha? Natalia is a fairly pretty name, why not keep it?”

You weren't surprised that Flora had done some research on the woman. However, Natasha was taken aback by the question. She wasn’t expecting it, so it took her a moment to respond.

“As a spy, I have many aliases. However, Natasha never felt like an alias, she just felt like me. My parents and sister call me Natalia often just to tease me, but even they seem to like Natasha better.”

You decide to help the Russian out, “Are you close with your family, Natasha?”

She nods, “Very close. My parents took Yelena and I when we were very little. They saved us from some terrible people, I owe then everything. Though they'd never let me repay them.”

“Reminds me of us,” you say to Flora, who has now softened her gaze on the redhead.

Flora had a soft spot for children in tough places. You knew that's why she originally gravitated towards you, when Pietro first brought you around. This was the perfect topic to get Natasha on Flora’s good side.

“If we found you any younger you would've had our last name,” Flora places the vase the table. She eyes Natasha for a moment before asking about her childhood, “Foster care?”

Natasha stiffens a little, “Worse. Young girls all taken and trained to be weapons for whatever they needed.”

Flora’s eyes become glossy, “The red room.”

Natasha’s gaze was locked on the floor, “Yeah.”

It is a quick turn of events when Flora wraps her arms around Natasha. She holds the woman firm as she begins to speak in Russian. You don't understand all of it, but it seems that Flora was intimately familiar with the place.

“You two go and make yourselves comfortable while I start dinner,” she says finally releasing Natasha.

“You don’t want help?”

Flora shakes her head, “Go, relax malysh. I’ve got it covered in here.”

Instead of leading Natasha to the living room, you take her to the backyard. There is a beautiful large grass area, with a nice garden space in the corner. The patio has the perfect view of the sunset. You sit on one of the patio chairs and Natasha sits beside you.

“I think that went well,” you say to her.

“Thanks to you, it went really well,” Natasha looks at you gratefully.

You shake your head, “I didn’t do much.”

Natasha argues back, “I see why they call you the glue. If you hadn’t made your comment, she would’ve slighted me all night.”

“Don’t give me too much credit, you would've had her the moment you asked how many people she killed,” you joke, and Natasha gets a bit embarrassed.

“Sorry, I guess I just- “

You stop her, “It’s fine, Nat. I’ve been underestimated all my life. My first kill is symbolic to me, even in that pitiful state, I was able to snap someone’s neck. I remember all of them, though it’s not a lot, I also remember each one getting easier.”

She looks at you, “The longer it gets, the less you remember, and then one day you’re left with the memory of how you used to feel about it. Maybe it fills you with pride in the beginning, but eventually killing just leaves you feeling empty.”

Wanda comes into the backyard before you could answer the Russian.

“She’s not giving you too much trouble is she, Y/n?”

Natasha sends her wife a pointed look. You laugh at the interaction.

“She’s a pleasure to have around. I can see why you married her, regardless of the assassination attempt.”

Wanda tilts her head but keeps a smile on her face, “Telling our love story without me, my love?”

“It just came up. How was the meeting?”

Wanda plops down next to you before leaning back, “Apparently Kingpin is looking to expand his control. At least that’s what Hammerhead said.”

You clench your jaw at the mention of the large man, “He’s such a greedy bastard. He has the second largest market besides us. Which means he thinks he can take over us. I couldn’t imagine being a guy that big with no fucking brains.”

Wanda shakes her head and chuckles slightly, “You sound just like Papa. He was pissed when he heard.”

“How is he now?” You ask knowing he could get a little reckless when he was angry.

“For now, he’s alright. I told him we could use Kingpin’s greed as an example. We can crush him and in turn teach the others not to try to cross us.”

Your hands reach to rub your temples, “You make it sound so easy.”

“It will be,” you can hear the determination in her voice.

Natasha interjects, “I think Y/n has a point. It’s definitely easier said than done.”

You keep your composure, “Kingpin selling is a problem in itself, but the people should know better than to buy from him. Whoever is making purchases with him is not being loyal to us. That means he’s making allies, or rather he is taking our allies away from us. It strengthens his numbers while diminishing ours. He’s trying to start a revolution.”

Before it could be discussed any further Dragos appears, “We can discuss it more tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate Wanda’s homecoming… and marriage. Dinner is ready.”

You’re the first out of your chair and into the house. It leaves Dragos some time with the couple.

“Remember we only talk business outside of the office, if it is absolutely necessary,” he reminds his daughter.

“She still gets that way?” Wanda asks referring to you.

He shakes his head, “She’s just started brainstorming and it’s hard for her to put it aside. She’s not that timid little girl anymore.”

Wanda lets out an irritated sigh, “Why does everyone keep saying that? I know her just like everyone else, papa. I’ve cared for her, I’ve trained her, and- “

“You missed 5 years of her life; you missed her graduation, you missed her putting all of her training to practical use, you missed her joining the family business. No one is saying that you didn't know her well, but you can’t act like you witnessed her growth.”

“It’s not my fault that I wasn’t there,” she speaks through gritted teeth.

“No one is saying it was, malysh.”

Natasha grabs her wife’s hand, “We’re celebrating you tonight like your father said. Let’s just enjoy this and eat. You never stopped talking about your mother’s cooking and the longer we spend out here, the colder the food gets in there.”

Wanda gets up from her seat, “You’re right. I’m sorry Papa, I’m just not used to being home yet.”

“It’s alright, her growth is startling. I still remember how I felt when Pietro told me she killed a boy. It was a shock; I didn’t want to believe it. She was so delicate that I couldn't picture her doing it.”

“Y/n killed somebody?”

Natasha nods, “She told me about it. Y/n actually has a little ledger, 8 people.”

Wanda’s eyes widen, “She told you about it?”

The conversation stops there, when you come back, “Flora said if you guys don’t come to dinner now that Piet and I can have your plates.”

“You’d eat Wanda’s welcome home meal, that’s pretty criminal even by our standards,” Natasha says pulling her wife along into the house.

“Oh 100%, you would too if you had Flora’s cooking.”

The playful banter continues, even once everyone is sat at the dinner table. Conversation flows freely, but Wanda doesn't contribute much. All that circles her mind is you.

Her father’s words echo in her head. She had missed some of the most important moments of your life. Wanda was scared to admit that she hardly recognized the woman you’ve grown into.

It bothered her. She was jealous that everyone got to see you blossom, but her. Even Wanda’s wife seemed to know things about you that she didn’t. It was a pill that she didn’t want to swallow.

Her little Krolik wasn’t so little anymore.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 20

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Some 18+ Content - MDNI - most of it is SFW and it is pretty obvious when NSFW will begin.

TW: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Body Dysphoria, Nipple Play, Making Out

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Chapter 20

Dear Brucie,

Did you know that’s what people call you?

I assume you do. How could you not? But I find it hard to believe you revel in the idea of people calling you “Gotham’s Favorite Himbo”. Not that being a himbo is a bad thing, but I want to believe you have more substance than that. A man is more than how many times he falls into a fountain, after all.

Twelve times, in case you were wondering.

You probably weren’t wondering.

I have some exciting news, and no, it has nothing to do with giving up my academic pursuits to live in rural Appalachia (though I stand by the argument from my last letter. The world needs more cryptids, and I could totally pull it off).

If you recall, I entered a writing competition in December. I never thought anything would come of it, but I just got a call saying I was a finalist! Your faith in me hasn’t gone in vain, and now, I have proof.

There’s a showcase in March. More details to come, but I’m allowed to brin two guests, and I think you should be one of them.

Only if you want to, of course.

Don’t feel pressured to come on my behalf, though it would be a good opportunity to properly thank you for your generosity. I don’t make it a habit to thank rich people for doing the bare minimum, but I also recognize that none of this would have happened without you.

Just a thought.

Actually, forget I mentioned it.

This is more than enough.

Jason sighed as he shoved your latest letter in his pocket. His head fell back against the gargoyle that loomed over him, serving as a quiet sentinel that overlooked the city. A rare blue sky stretched on as far as the eye could see. Normal people might bask in a nice day like this, but Jason preferred an overcast sky that carried the promise of rain. Perfect reading weather. But, alas, the sun was the least of his worries.

He should have expected a letter like this one sooner or later, but that didn’t make it any easier to stomach.

This web of lies had grown more complicated as the weeks wore on, with Jason was trapped at its center. Each tug and pull created a hopeless knot and a bigger mess. He wasn’t entirely sure how to break free, but he knew one thing for sure. While you might pretend like it wasn’t a big deal, having Bruce at your showcase would make you happy.

Jason wanted more than anything to see you happy, but Bruce had no idea you existed.

If you approached him at the showcase, his vapid attempts to placate you would sever the web of lies, leaving him in free fall. Jason convinced himself that wasn’t a fall he’d survive, but making Bruce care wasn’t a string he could pull. If it were that easy, the Joker would be dead, and Jason wouldn’t spend his holidays alone.

Maybe he could convince Dick to show up dressed as Bruce?

No, that was stupid. That only worked under the cowl.

He would figure something out before the showcase. Preferably a plan that didn’t involve someone prying into his personal affairs. The fact that certain members of the Bat-brigade knew you existed left him irritable.

Asking for help wasn’t his strong suit.

In fact, he loathed it with every fiber of his being.

Luca was right. Black Mask had enough men that allowed him to move at all hours of the day. Jason’s henchmen were good, but they weren’t detectives. Admitting to you that he had no one else to fall back on should the need arise opened his eyes to the gaps in his plan. Splitting his time between vigilante work, crime lord business, and spending time with you had spread him thin. Something had to give. Black Mask might not be a threat to Red Hood, but he didn’t want innocent bystanders to get hurt because he let something fall through the cracks.

He needed someone smart—both book and street.

And preferably someone with a neutral opinion of Red Hood.

That left him with fewer options on the list of willing vigilantes than he would have liked, but at least there were still options.

Jason rarely operated during the day, but he would grudgingly admit that Bruce trained him well. He knew the patrol routes by heart. All of them. He could pinpoint where a Robin would be down to the minute.

But Signal wasn’t a Robin.

He did things differently. Good on him for breaking away from the Bat-shaped mold. All of them did at some point, but his patrol routes didn’t make a lick of sense. One would think finding a guy dressed in neon fucking yellow would be easy, but it took the better part of the morning to track him down. Stooped in the shadow of the gargoyle, Jason felt oddly exposed with this many people milling about on a sunny day.

Signal came to him, landing at the feet of another gargoyle a few feet away. His uniform reflected the light in a way that left Jason squinting behind his visor.

“What the hell? Day patrols are my thing. You don’t see me stealing your thing, but I totally could. Watch me shred through Crime Alley waving a gun around like a dumbass.”

Maybe neutral wasn’t the right word for Duke’s opinion of him.

Jason pivoted to face him, still huddling between the feet of the gargoyle. “Good to see you too, Signal.”

Duke clucked his tongue. “What do you want? Your territory is on the other side of the city and it’s about…” He checked his wrist. Except he didn’t wear a watch. “…a lot of hours past your bedtime.”

Snarky fucker.

Jason respected it.

“I come in peace.”

“Yeah, no shit. Tim always said you were dramatic, but I hope you’d pick a more practical fighting ground if you wanted to jump me. You also wouldn’t wait for me to come to you.” He smacked his lips. “So, if you don’t want to fight, what do you want with me?”

“I need—” He gagged. Admitting he needed help out loud made him want to vomit. “I need some help.”

A tense beat passed between them.

“And you’re asking me?”

“Yes.”

“No offense to myself, but why?”

“Because you’re smart and you grew up on these streets like I did. You know them as well as I do.”

“I would argue Steph knows them better.”

Jason gritted his teeth. He had a point. Duke grew up in Gotham’s Narrows whereas Steph was born and raised on Park Row like him. While she was the logical choice, she’d be unbearably smug about the whole thing. Involving her would inevitably lead back to Tim and Cass. Cass, he could tolerate fine, but Tim was still on his shit list for telling you someone was reading the letters. His skin crawled just thinking about it.

So, no, he would not be asking Steph for help.

“But I want your help,” he insisted.

“Because if you asked anyone else, they’d involve the others.”

“See. I knew you were smart.”

Duke rolled his eyes, emphasized by the exaggerated flick of his head. “Right. I’m the chosen one because you think I won’t snitch. Thanks for that vote confidence, I guess, but whatever you need, I’m gonna have to pass. I already do day patrol alone. I don’t need your shit too.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I thought you didn’t sell to kids.”

Jason was ready to whip out a lecture on drugs and the lasting impacts they had on one’s life when he noticed the mischievous turn of his mouth. Duke was fucking with him. Wind stolen from his sails, he slumped and said, “I was going to offer to proofread your English papers for the rest of the semester.”

“Bold of you to assume I need help in English.”

This was going about as well as he expected. Unfortunately, Jason didn’t have a lot going for him that Bruce or one of the others couldn’t give Duke already.

“What do you want?”

“College essay topics. Apparently, the admission offices won’t be moved by the whole my parents were jokerized sob story. It isn’t unique enough to make me stand out, according to my advisor.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “I hate this city sometimes.”

“Preach.”

College essays were his bread and butter. Not that Jason ever made it that far, but sometimes, when he was feeling particularly spiteful about his lot in life, he’d start a college application knowing full well he’d never hit that submit button. It didn’t stop him from drafting dozens of essays that would bring a whole admission board to tears.

Fuck, maybe Tim was right.

He needed to get a life.

Or at the very least, a new hobby.

“I can think of a few topics that’ll help you stand out from the rest. We can workshop it.”

Duke shook his head in disbelief. “I expected more pushback. You must be desperate.”

“I need someone to watch my territory during the day. Black Mask is prepping for a comeback, and I don’t know what he has planned, but I’ve heard it’s going to be big. It’s possible he’ll try to make moves during the day to throw me off his trail and I physically can’t keep tabs on him at all hours of the day. You don’t have to do anything about it, but if you happen to see something—”

“Say something?” Duke cut in with a smirk.

“How are you more insufferable than the others?”

He shrugged. “You came to me, man. I’m entitled to make you work for it.”

This was precisely why he hated asking for help. He jumped in on the rare occasion they exhausted their list of eligible vigilantes, but when Jason needed something, he had to grovel like a dog.

But he was desperate, so he plastered on a smile and barked.

“Does that mean you’ll help me?”

“Sure. Fine. Whatever. I’ll add Park Row to my rotation.” He waved him off. “Now, can I get back to my patrol? I’ve been tracking a couple of Falcone’s guys all morning and I don’t want them slipping through my fingers because we decided to get chummy.”

“Want some help while I’m here?”

Duke smirked. “Only if you can keep up.”

Jason caught himself smile for real this time. “I’ll be running laps around you in no time.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

“And…” His throat tightened before he could finish, rejecting the words that gathered on the tip of his tongue. He cleared his throat and tried again. “And thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”

“How much psychic damage was that right now? 3—no, 6D6?”

“Fuck off.”

***

Jason landed outside your window a few hours later, joints aching and feet dragging across the icy grate. After helping Duke nab Falcone’s guys, he decided to follow a few weak leads to find Black Mask before his regular night rotation.

Nothing came of those leads, no surprise there, but now he had a few hours to rest before he headed out again. He could have gone to one of his safehouses, but he ended up outside your place instead.

Weird, he thought idly as he fiddled with your window.

He balked when it slid open, unlocked despite never mentioning he planned to stop by. Either his appearance had become so routine over the last few weeks that you expected him to come, or you never locked your window. Both options were bad, but one was arguably worse.

Glancing around, you were noticeably absent despite your bag and keys sitting on the kitchen table. Panic sparked in his chest as he stepped further into the room and called out, “Hello?”

“Wha—”

You popped up from where you sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch, a sheet of loose notebook paper stuck to your cheek. “Shit,” you mumbled as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, “Is it that late already?”

He frowned. “You fell asleep with you window unlocked?”

“I was working on homework with the window unlocked,” you said around a yawn, “The nap took me by force, but would you look at that. No one broke in to kill me. Joyous day.”

Your blatant disregard for your safety would kill him.

Again.

Jason began the arduous process of removing the various layers of his uniform. Boot first, helmet, and so on, each movement automatic and practiced. “Has your workload gotten better yet?”

You laughed hollowly as you peeled the paper from your cheek. “I finished one of my readings before my nap, but I still have, uh, six more to go before Monday.”

He nodded along, listening, but only processing every third word or so. Now that he had finally slowed down, exhaustion settled over him like a wet blanket. “A nap sounds nice.”

You hopped onto the couch, arms resting along the frayed cushions as he fumbled with the various clasps and buckles on his harnesses. His coordination wasn’t nearly as fine-tuned as he would have liked. “It’s a little early for the full Hood getup, isn’t it?”

“Had some business to handle this morning, so I decided to stay out. I’ll head out again later.”

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“Because I hate myself, apparently.”

You were quiet for a moment, the soft clack of metal buckles filling the empty air before you asked, “And you decided to come to my place because?”

Jason stopped, your question bringing a sudden burst of clarity that put everything into razor-sharp focus. He broke into your place and started stripping like he lived here, didn’t he?

“Because…” He wracked his brain, but there was no gas left in the proverbial tank. His hands fell from the buckles on his chest. “I don’t know why I came here.”

“Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but you look ready to keel over any second now.”

“It’s been a long week.”

A long month, a long year, a long life. He really should have asked for help sooner, but stubborn pride got in the way of things that ultimately helped him. Asking Duke had taken a lot out of him. There were a million ways involving Duke could go wrong, all of which he’d considered, but there were also a million ways it could go right. His bruised ego would survive, but for now, he was still feeling a little raw.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can go if you need to focus.”

Your expression softened. “You’re welcome to nap in my bed while I work.”

He blinked. “You want me in your bed?”

“You make it sound like I have nefarious motives. I am a gentile English lady of the softest constitution, Mr. Darcy. Consider my modesty.” You tried to look offended, but the subtle crinkle around your eyes betrayed you. “I’m trying to be considerate. It’s more comfortable than sleeping on my shitty couch.”

Anything was better than the lumpy brick at his place. He woke with more knots on his back that Batman had batarangs. It was probably wiser to invest in a nicer mattress. He wasn’t getting any younger, and his work demanded he be in peak physical form, but he also had a bad habit of going with the cheapest option—side effect of always watching his money and all that jazz.

Again, when he tried to come up with a compelling argument as to why he shouldn’t, he came up short. “Fine,” he said with a shrug.

Once he discarded the rest of his things, he turned back to you, dressed in the thin underlayer of his uniform and his cargo pants slung low around his hips. “Can I wear this in your bed? I don’t want to get it dirty.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I had a problem with what you were wearing,” you said as your attention returned to your homework.

He took that at face value and staggered over to your bed, fading and fast. You decorated the queen-sized bed with pillows of varying shapes and patterns that seemed impractical for sleeping. It was, however, warm and inviting, like everything in your apartment, even as Jason hesitated at the foot of it.

“It won’t bite you, I promise.”

“I know that,” he shot back, sharper than he intended. His fuse shortened considerably when he was tired, but that was a him problem. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. It feels wrong.”

“Elaborate.”

“Sleeping in your bed.” His other hand curled and uncurled at his side before he added, “Without you.”

Mind to mouth filter?

Ha.

That didn’t exist now that he’d passed 36 hours without sleep.

You sat with that for a second before responding. “Did you want me to lay next to you?”

Ever the problem solver.

You made it sound like a reasonable request when reason played no part in his sleep-addled musings. This was purely selfish on his part, but now he felt less awkward saying, “Yes.”

The springs in your couch groaned as you stood, your sharp exhale sounding suspiciously like a laugh. He sensed your presence over his shoulder, still keen despite his exhaustion. You flopped onto the bed, a finger pressed between the pages of Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus.

He chose to focus on that as he sprawled out next to you. “That’s one I haven’t read yet.”

“Really? I figured you’d be all over it given the plot.”

His brain was too muddled for the mental gymnastics it would take to figure out what you meant by that. A problem for later, he decided as he buried his face in one of your pillows. He all but moaned. They smelled like you—your shampoo, your laundry detergent, all the scents that created a potent concoction that left his head spinning. He pressed his face more deliberately into the velvet pillow edged with string tassels.

Mercifully, you didn’t comment on how weird he was being. “You’re welcome to read it when I’m done.”

“I’d like that,” was his muffled reply.

Silence followed.

One minute passed, then two. Jason adjusted and readjusted half a dozen times to get comfortable, but nothing felt quite right. He peered up at you, nose still buried in the pillow. You seemed content to sit beside him, fingers pressed to your temple as your eyes darted across the page. With his initial reservations falling by the wayside, Jason came to the startling conclusion that simply laying beside you wasn’t enough and he wanted more.

He rolled onto his side. “Did you want to read on my chest?”

You looked up, a bemused smile curving your lips. He tried to look indifferent, though he could already feel the mask slipping. “Did you want me to lay on your chest to read? Like a weighted blanket?”

He softened like butter. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

Permission was all he needed. His arms hooked around your hips, dragging you with him as he rolled onto his back once more. You pinned him to the mattress, leaving him feeling less like a sailboat fighting to stay afloat during a tumultuous storm. He closed his eyes as his hands settled on your back.

You chuckled as you opened your book on his chest. “Better?”

He hummed. With his eyes still closed, Jason sank back into your collection of pillows as if they were cumulus clouds instead. Alright, he now understood the appeal of the pillows.

Soft instrumental music filtered from the speaker on your phone a few seconds later. A combination of strings and the soft trickle of a piano that reminded him of rain drops on windowpanes. He purred with approval. Minutes passed. Jason teetered on the edge of consciousness, almost, but not quite ready to take the full plunge.

His hand slid under your sweatshirt, seeking the warmth of your skin. Nimble fingers traced the length of your spine, a bra noticeably absent this go absent. His second hand joined the first, tracing intricate patterns on your skin in hopes of lulling himself to sleep. You squirmed a little as he ghosted over a ticklish patch of skin, but you seemed content to let him continue as you flipped to a new page.

Eventually, he found a sweet spot somewhere between lucidity and contentment. His breaths evened out, muscles going loose as his hands came to rest on the small of your back once more.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

It barely crested a whisper, but it was enough to startle him awake. His eyes snapped open, vision clearing after a second. “W-What?”

You hid your face behind your book. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t really sleeping. Don’t feel bad.” His arm curled around your waist. “What’s up?”

“It’s just, well, I knew Titus was one of his bloodier plays, but damn, I wasn’t expecting it to pan out like this. I just got to a scene about Lavinia, Titus’ daughter, and the most horrendous—”

“No spoilers.”

You rolled your eyes. “This play is over 400 years old. It’s a tragedy. I don’t think spoilers apply in this—”

He pressed a finger to your lips.

You froze. His surprise followed a half second later, breaths turning shallow as he traced your bottom lip. It was soft under the pad of his finger. He knew he shouldn’t. Kissing you was an act doomed by the narrative, trapping you both in a hellish limbo whenever he tried to close the distance.

Undeterred by the odds, you dipped your head to capture the tip of his finger in your lips and sucked. Pleasure ripped through him like a crack of lightning, tightening his groin and curling his toes. Jason was a goner from the start, but this sealed the deal.

When he looked back on this moment, he could never remember who closed the distance first, only that your lips eventually met his. It started sweet. Tender in all the ways he imagined a first kiss should be, even if this wasn’t the setting he envisioned for it. He cradled the back of your head, a soft groan rumbling deep in his chest as he slanted his mouth over yours.

Your lips parted on a sigh, warm and inviting. His tongue pressed inside, desperate for a taste. He had, admittedly, imagined this moment a million ways, but the reality was just so much more satisfying. You tossed your books aside and curled your fingers in his collar, pulling him closer with unspoken intent.

Message received.

Jason sat up as you slid comfortably into his lap, the kiss never breaking. He was certain if it had, it would have felt like breaking the surface of water, but he was content to drown in everything you. His hands slid under your shirt once more, roaming with newfound purpose as your lips worked fervently. His thumb brushed hesitantly over the peak over your breast. You shuddered, arching into it. Encouraging. He kept going, circling your nipple until it was a hardened nub while his other hand massaged the other, soft and malleable like clay beneath his fingers.

Your fingers carded through his hair. Pleasure twined with affection as he broke away, vision swimming as he took in the sight of your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. You pressed hot, open-mouth kisses along his jaw and down the juncture of his throat. The smooth enamel of your teeth grazed his pulse point and—

His hips bucked involuntarily. “Fuck.”

He could feel your smirk on his skin as your thighs tightened around his hips, anchoring him in place. His reaction was immediate and visceral as he fought the urge to buck again.

“Patience, Mr. Darcy. I want to savor this moment.”

His head spun. “You’re going to kill me ag—”

That thought died on a whimper when you kissed his pulse point instead. Soft enough to steal the air from his lungs. He melted beneath you.

You tugged at the zipper on the front of his underlayer, its slow drag drowning out the soft music coming from your phone. Your hands slid beneath the flaps to explore the broad planes of his chest, ghosting over scars old and new. His skin prickled faintly, the current trajectory of your lips promising.

He wrestled with the sleeves on his uniform, peeling them back until the excess fabric fell around his hips. He wound his arms around your waist and fell back onto the bed, lips molding with yours once more.

He tugged on the hem of your sweatshirt, hoping you would get the hint. You caught on quickly and drew back to pull it over your head, eyes roving over his bare chest. Your lips glistened in the dim light. He gripped the sheets to keep himself from capturing them once more.

The fluid motion of your hands stuttered and fell, lust-filled eyes clearing. “Is that a…”

His grip loosened as he glanced down, already knowing what he’d fine. An autopsy scar spanned the length of his heaving chest and down his stomach, stark against his pale skin. His jaw worked as he grappled for an excuse to soften the blow, but there was nothing to say. He wasn’t going to insult your intelligence by pretending this was anything other than what it was.

Hard as he tried, there was no escape from the tragedy of Jason Peter Todd. It was one of many reasons why he never corrected you when you called him Jacob. At least as Jacob, he could pretend he wasn’t nearly as broken. His body was an exhausted story fixed in time. A constant reminder of all the things he lost. His shortcomings, his failures, all that he wasn’t ready to share. Not with you, not with anyone. He feared something like this would happen, and now that it had, he wanted nothing more than to turn back time.

He stumbled over his words as he shoved his arms back into his sleeves and zipped his uniform to the chin, hiding the offensive scar from view. It wasn’t enough. Under your discerning gaze, it was worse than being stripped bare. You’d already seen the secrets hidden beneath.

Jason could handle a lot, but he refused to accept your pity. It swam with the sadness and heartbreak in your eyes, snagging on his resolve. His nails bit into his Kevlar sleeves as he fought the urge to peel back his skin until there were no more scars, leaving nothing to pity.

“Don’t—please. Disgust, anger. Anything but pity.”

“Jacob, I don’t—”

He recoiled when you reached for him, scooting back until there was nowhere left to go. Cornered like prey. Tears burned his eyes. He wiped them away, cursing the annoying habit of crying when overwhelmed.

“Oh, sweetie. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” You wrapped him in a tight embrace. Jason faltered, unsure whether to shove you away or bury his face in your neck and sob, so he just sat there with tears streaming down his cheeks. You kissed his temple and whispered, “I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m sorry it did.”

Your words hit him like a freight train. The ones who’d taken from him would never apologize. He was a child. Yeah, maybe he’d gotten drunk on the thrill that justice provided, and he felt invincible, but he was still a child that wanted to be good and make the world a better place.

His sacrifice didn’t matter.

Life went on. Jason remained unavenged. It was a bitter truth that hung over his head every hour of every day. He could never escape it. Even when he tried to make a difference now, the people who should have been on his side turned their backs on him instead.

When they looked at him, they saw an angry boy who had turned into a violent man. Someone who was irredeemable. A lost cause. He was so much more than that.

Why couldn’t anyone see that?

You smoothed his hair. “You didn’t deserve it.”

Something inside him shattered. Jason collapsed in your arms with a shuddering sob. Between your soft assurances, you kissed his hairline, his temple, the scar on his cheek, showering him with affection until he had no more tears left to shed. He clung to you, worrying the fabric of your sweatshirt between his fingers.

“Sorry for ruining the moment,” he mumbled, shame burning at his cheeks.

“Never apologize for something like this.” You squeezed him tighter.

“But I’m a mons—”

“No. Stop that thought right in its tracks. That wasn’t an invitation to tear yourself down, You’re not a monster. I never thought that about you, and I still don’t,” you muttered against his hair, “If you really want to talk about this, we can do that later, but tonight, you’re tired and emotions are high. Just sit here and let me comfort you.”

His fingers curled in your shirt, fearing he’d fall to pieces if you let go of him before he was ready. He dipped his nose toward the slope of your neck, forcing himself to breathe as he pulled himself back together.

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

A/N: So... there was your kiss, but at what cost?

Anyway, welcome to Duke Thomas, we're happy to have him on the team. Thanks so much for reading and interacting. It's always fun to chat with people!

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Chapter I | Escape

Summary: Being an artist was your life purpose and you figured it out at a very young age. No one was surprised when you quickly made a name of yourself among the art communities around the world. Everything was going according to your life’s plan, until you were diagnosed with a life changing condition - Parkinson's disease. Since that day everything started to slowly collapse for you. Looking for an escaping, moving to a small, forgotten from the world sea coast town was the only solution you could think off. Buying an old beach house, which was screaming for renovation, was the greatest escape - until you met your annoying next door neighbour and his dog. A neighbour who had his own issues and demons to deal with but somewhere between the pain and the obstacles life has thrown to both of you, you found comfort in each other. All because he had the right colour of blue paint for your staircase banister.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Description: Modern AU | Early 40s retired Captan!Ace and Artist!Reader

WARNINGS: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP, major age gap between Reader and Ace (!sixteen years!), 18+ only, angst, hurt/no comfort, family trauma, emotional distress, !mentions of Parkinson's disease!, mentions of depression, explicit language, english is not my first language

Word Count: 7,5K

<- prologue | main masterlist | story masterlist | next chapter ->

NOTE: I WANT TO APOLOGIES FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART THAT THIS TOOK TWO MONTHS TO BE UP , I AM SORRY! I promise you the next chapters won’t take as long to be up, there were just a lot of personal things going on and I couldn’t focus on writing as much as I wanted to. I have such big hopes for this story and I really hope that you guys won’t give up on it and be patient with me while I write it. There is more I want to say but I will leave it for the end note, so ENJOY ♡

It  turns out everywhere you go‚ you take yourself‚ that's not a lie

The road in front of you seems endless. Both front windows of the car are rolled down as you let the heavy ocean air mixed with the pine trees surrounding the road fill up the air in the vehicle. The sky is becoming more greyish, indicating that the rain is coming sooner than the weather forecast has announced it last night. But you are not worried about it as the air, mixed with view in front of you, brings you some kind of peace and a sign that today will go as you have plan it.  

You have driven for five hours and only made one quick stop at a gas station to fill up the car with fuel, not even bothering to use the toilet or buy yourself some snack for the long journey ahead of you, but you don’t feel the need to do any of it.

The past nine months have taken a big tool on you – from being on top of your own little world to massively fall down in a matter of seconds, all you desperately need is a change. A big change.  

Glancing at the GPS on the car, a small smile appears on your lips as you see that soon you will be arriving at your destination. “Seven must be my lucky number.” You whisper to yourself.

Six is the number of houses you have already looked at and they were not what you are looking for, so hopefully seven is your lucky number. Hopefully today will be the day which you can mark as your new beginning.

You want to start fresh and clean – away from everyone and everything. You have been in a desperate need of escape. The past few months have clouded your mind and heart with sorrow, pity and anger – something that you have never allowed to feel towards yourself, and you are tired of it. If life plans to throw more and more rocks towards you and your way so let it be, but you won’t let it bring you down more than you already are. Life has started to take your passion and meaning of it away from you the moment it has thrown the disease, that you are still in denial off, in your way. But until your hands are no longer capable of holding the brush and your body hasn’t betrayed you – you will fight for your happiness and peace.

The last few moths have opened your eyes for many things and set your mind on others. You are planning on learning how to be indifferent, mostly because of how tired you are. Tired of being there for everyone, yet no one is there for you except your sister, but you can’t bother her with your life and problems; after all she has a whole family to take care of and you are a grown woman who is finally free to do whatever her heart desires, with no one around you to tell you anymore how to behave or act around people and situations.  

You haven’t realised you have entered the small coast town, until you stop at a red light on a crossroad. You blink a few times as you can’t believe it. When have you passed the town entrance sign without even realising it? A long honk behind you made you jump on your seat. Looking up at the traffic light, it has changed to green which means you are holding the line, but before you can react, it changes back to red. You raise your right hand in the air to signal to the driver behind you that you are sorry, but you couldn’t see their face in the front mirror as their car, a dark grey car truck to be more specific, is higher than yours. In your attempts to see the driver and apologies somehow, you have missed the green light again which obviously pissed the person behind the wheel as they honk at you once more and this time, they kept on going without stopping it.

“Oh my God, what an asshole, stop honking.” You stick out your head of the window of your driver seat and screamed at the person who’s face you still can’t see. This is getting you stressed and pissed at the same time. You are aware that it’s your fault, but can’t they be a bit more patient. Focusing yourself on the traffic light ready to take off the second it turns to green, the dark grey truck angrily manoeuvres around you and before you have the chance to see who the angry impatient person behind the wheel is, they are long gone. All that you have managed to see is an adorable golden retriever happily having its head out of the passenger seat.

“What an idiot. There could be children walking around.” You exclaim in disbelief.

Baterilla – the smallest coast town in the east coast, if not in the whole country. The current population is four thousand four hundred forty-six people. By all means some people would even call this place a village, but by the official state of the country it is a town – a forgotten from the rest of the world town. Driving through the streets of it until you reach your final stop, you also observe the place around you. For a small, almost uninhabited town, it has a lot of houses, which would inhabit more than four thousand people, all of them painted in light pastel colours, but mostly white, making the place very welcoming and delightful for the eyes. Passing by the main street by the beach your breath is taken away – there are many small shops for all kinds of things with small restaurants and caffes every few meters. They are in the typical white and blue colour palette, with a bit of a red popping then and there, for a coastline town. Most of them are closed and you start to wonder why? Why this town seems so big, yet it’s almost ghost like? It isn’t only the beauty of the colours and the view around it, but the ocean breeze mixed with it all, is making this place straight out of some romantic movie, making you fall in love with it immediately.

When you started to look for a house to buy you have told your real estate agent that you have only three criteria for the house – to be in a small town and, if possible, away from neighbours; to be right next to the beach; to be an old house in desperate need of renovation. So far none of the houses you have checked have matched your wants, but something in your gut is telling you that today is your day and you haven’t had this feeling in a long time.

You have to drive around five more minutes before you reach your final stop – the house you are having a look at today with your agent. Seeing her car parked on the driveway in front of it makes you feel thrilled. To add to your excitement, you have noticed that all the houses close by are far away from the one you will be looking at, and there are also no parked cars in front of them which means no one lives there and that they are probably summer villas, which won’t be a big problem for you. All houses except for one, the house exactly less than a three meters away next to yours, hopefully soon to be home. But there is no car parked on the driveway so maybe it is also a home some family uses only for the summertime.

Parking on the driveway behind your real estate agent’s car, you take a deep breath before stopping the vehicle entirely. “Seven might be – no, it will be your lucky number.” You say to yourself. Taking one last look at yourself in the front mirror you nod as a gesture of giving yourself a courage to go out and look at the house. Unbuttoning your seatbelt and grabbing your bag from the passenger seat, you finally step out of your car.

Nico Robin - a woman you have met a few years ago in a charity gala with your now ex-fiancé, is standing at the beautiful big white front porch of the house. Her tall and define body is dressed in a nice, and by the looks of it, expensive designer suit in a dark blue colour with small barely visible white vertical line stich on it. Her beautiful black hair is held on a high ponytail with her bands framing her face elegantly. Nico Robin is a woman who screams elegance and class from kilometres away, but her looks are only a bonus to her skills as a real estate agent – after all she is the most demanded and famous one in the country, so having her as an acquaintance is definitely in your advantage.

Walking up the wooden white stairs of the front porch you greet her with a little smile, and she does the same.

“How are you feeling today (Y/N)?” She speaks first. Her toned, but yet warm voice always makes you feel in ease around her, and you wonder if she has this warmness in her tone with every client or she only has it with you.

When you have set your mind on finding a house for yourself, after things with your ex-partner have gone all the way downhill, she was the first person you have contacted when the idea for the house came up in your mind. You still remember her shocked facial expression when you met with her and told her what you were in a search for. “An old beach house, exactly by the beach, crying for renovation in a preferably very small town?” All she got from you was a confident nod and in return as she a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Well, I haven’t had a such weird demand by a buyer in a long time, so – yes, I will help you find your house.”

“I’m excited, have this feeling that this will be the house.” You respond with a genuine smile. Today you have caught yourself smiling quite a lot, something that doesn’t happen frequently for quite some time now.

Robin returns the smile and nods with her head towards the front door of the house to follow her. The house is big and white from the outside with a second floor. Everything inside is mostly made of wood and painted white, which you don’t mind as you are looking for a typical beach house in a first place, though most of the paint is chipped or has gone a bit yellow due to no one taking care of the house. From the moment you enter the house you stepped in a quite spacious hallway, where the stairs to the second floor are, but what caught your attention there is the beautiful old banister. All the paint there is chipped and this itself added such beauty to it.

While Robin is explaining all the details about the house to you, you take a step closer to the banister and run your fingers on it. The chipped white paint feels rough and cold on your fingers, making little scratches on your skin as you continue to observe it carefully. Ideas start to form in your mind about all the possible colours you can paint it if you buy the house.

“Do you want to check out the second floor first?” Robin interrupts your thoughts as she notices that you are not paying her any attention. Shaking your head and taking a step back from the banister, you apologize to Robin for not paying attention and tell her to continue the tour of the house however she wants. “Let’s get upstairs first, I see you really like the banister.” A small giggle escapes her lips as she leads you upstairs.

Getting up the stairs you notice the sound some of the steps make while stepping on them, but you are sure that you will find a way to fix them, after all it is only three steps making this annoying cracking sound, so it shouldn’t be such a big problem.

The upper floor has another spacious hallway which leads to a master bedroom, a guest bedroom and bathroom. Everything here is covered in old floral wallpapers, which you will take down, as none of them are in your liking. But you do fall in love with the master bedroom. It is quite spacious, and the windows are from the celling to the floor facing the beach and the view to it is mesmerizing. You can see the waves, coming one after another, creating this beautiful breathtaking dance of the ocean. Each wave carries itself with such beauty before it disappears once it touches the outline of the sand. The freedom that the ocean cares within itself has aways captured your soul and given you peace. ‘No wonder little girls dream of being mermaids.’ A small smile, which almost reaches your eyes, appears on your face when you remember that you were once a little girl who dreamed of being one.

“It’s a nice view.” Robin says, now standing next to you, enjoying the view herself.

“You like the sea, Robin?” You ask, still lost in your own thoughts, but present in the moment.

“Oh, I love it. I have a beach house myself, best investment in my whole life.” She chuckles. “Come on, let’s get downstairs.”

Robin leads you into the kitchen first. As everything else in the house, it is paint in white colours with some wallpapers on the walls and it is connected with the dinning room. From there you entered the living room, which leads to the back porch of the house thanks to the window door and big windows around it, which leads you straight to the beach. This makes you fall in love with the house even more. Not only the room is spacious, but thanks to all the big windows in it, it is all lighten up by the daylight from the outside and it will be the perfect place to drink your morning coffee in it. The last room you take look at its just an extra room. It is quite big as most rooms in this big and spacious house are. There are big windows from the celling to the floor as in the other rooms, and this can defiantly be your studio room, if you gain the courage to pick up the brush again someday.

While Robin is talking about all the advantages and disadvantages this house has you pay her no attention once again, busy with sketching the rooms you have seen in your mind - from the colours you will use to the last piece of furniture you will need.

“I have one more house, but it’s in the east side of the city. Would you like to see it? It’s way better and it doesn’t need as much renovation as this one does.” Robin knows the look of your face; she has seen it many times in all her buyers. This is the face of a person who has already set their mind on the house they are currently looking at, and they are ready to make a final deal for it.

“No need Robin. I think I have found my house.” A content smile is spread across your face as you tilt your head a bit to look at at her. “How much do they want for it?”

“Thirty thousand.”

“Thirty thousand? But this is such a big house and it’s right on the beach, why is the price so low?” There must be some mistake, it is impossible for a house like this to be priced so low.

“This house has been on the market for alsmot eight years now and no one in their right mind would buy it, as I was saying until now and you didn’t bother to listen to me.” She gives you a knowing glance. “This house has more disadvantages than advantages.”

“It doesn’t matter I will manage with it all.” You nod confidently more to yourself than to the woman standing next to you.

“Please, think about it before making a final call. Even try offering less money, the sellers are probably going to accept it.” It is not only because she knows you, but Robin doesn’t want to sell something that she knows the buyer will regret later. The house might be big and spacious, have an amazing view and lighting, mark all your criteria for what you are looking for, but the amount of time and money you will need to invest in it is not worth it.

“We can offer a lower price, but I want this house. It’s perfect and exactly what I’m looking for.”

The type of person who you are is the one that once they set their mind on something it can not be changed, and this has let you to many great and very bad decisions many times. No matter how hard the woman standing next you try to change your mind, nothing will work, so all she can do is sigh and shrug with her shoulders in defeat.

“I’m warning you from now, don’t call me in a few months crying about how you regret it.”   

It has been a month since you made the final deal for the house. Your real estate agent is still not happy with your decision, but nothing can be undone now as you finally have the keys to it in your hands.

Standing in the middle of the small apartment you have been renting out for a few moths now, you are packing up all the things you will need in your new home with the help of your sister.

“I still can’t believe that you’re moving so far away.” Rebecca exclaims in disbelief as she closes one of the big boxes and wraps it in tape.

“It’s not that far away.” You murmur with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s seven hours car drive. How is this not far away?” Her amber eyes widen at your statement and how calmly you take the situation. She already lives two hours away from you, but adding extra five is a bit too much for her. “And yet, you haven’t even told me why?” She stops her movements and looks at you as you try to ignore her questioning eyes.

“I just need a fresh start.” You quietly answer, but this doesn’t give your sister any satisfaction. There are so many questions she has asked, yet none of them are given an answer, and this pains her. You two have never had secrets from each other, so what have changed? Why have you suddenly become so distant?

“What are you hiding from me (Y/N)?” There is so much pain behind the way she says your name pleadingly for an answer. She knows you like the back of her hand, and she cares for you like no one else does.

“I’m not hiding anything. Why you keep accusing me of hiding something?” Brushing her off like it is nothing only add fuel to your sister’s irritation with you. You are in fact hiding a lot from her, but it is for her own good. Rebecca has a family and problems of her own, you don’t want to add to this. The baggage with your problems and pain is yours to carry.

“Stop lying.” Getting up from the floor she comes closer to where you are sitting on it. “First you break you with the man whose name I don’t even want to say, and thanks God for this.” She puts her hand on top of her chest where her heart is as she breaths out with relief, remembering that you are no longer involved with the cruel man you had been for almost three years. “And still till this day, you aren’t telling me what happened and why you two broke the engagement off.” Her voice starts to raise a bit as she walks back and forth in the living room. “Then even before you broke the engagement something was off with you and still is, but you keep on being stubborn and refusing to speak with me. Me – your sister, the person who is always there for you, and now...” She takes a deep breath as she feels her lip trembling from all the build up tension, she has built up within herself. “Now on top of it all, you hit me last night with a phone call to help you pack, because you are moving six hundred kilometres away... Tomorrow.”

Silence takes over you. Everything your sister is saying is true, but you can’t bring yourself to tell her the truth. You can’t bring yourself to tell her the reason why you and your fiancé broke off the engagement. You can’t bring yourself to tell her that you might be diagnosed with stage one of Parkinson’s disease and that your life is slowly losing its meaning. You can’t bring to tell her that there are days where all you can do is cry and stair into nothingness as dark thoughts run through your mind. You can’t bring yourself to tell her that you are not looking for a new fresh start, and what you are looking for is an escape – an escape from everyone and everything.

Taking a deep breath in before exhaling, you finally grow the courage to look at your sister. “Becca, I’m not ready to speak about it.” This time you don’t lie, and Rebecca can read it on your face.

“Why?” Her voice comes out low and full of hurt, betrayed even. “You know that you can tell me anything. Is that monster threatening you with something?” She comes closer to you and kneels on the floor, taking your hands in hers giving them a gentle squeeze.

“No, no, nothing like this.” You shake your head. “I haven’t heard of him since we broke up, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Then why, no, what is that you are not ready to speak about?” You don’t have the energy for this, at least not now, when you don’t have the answers yourself.

“Becca, could we please finish packing up, because I have the moving company coming early tomorrow morning?” Giving her a pleading look you hope that she will drop the subject and just continue helping with the putting everything away in the boxes.

“Fine.” She answers, feeling defeated and remembering how hard you are to speak with when it comes to emotions and expressing your feeling. If she hasn’t been your sister and knows you so well, she might have thought that you are an emotionally disabled as if it hasn’t been through your art, you barely ever express anything than a smile and a frown. And recently she has noticed that all you do is frowning; a smile is a very rare occurrence, and your laughter... she doesn’t even remember the last time she has been able to hear it.  

Seeing Rebecca turning around and going to pick another box, you relax your shoulders a bit. If she wants to, Rebecca can be as stubborn as you are, after all you are sisters, but she has aways been the one who has been gentler and more compassionate, which is good because otherwise you two might have never been this close.

“By the way, when was the last time you paint something?” Her question catches you by surprise. To be honest you don’t remember. It has been quite long since you have picked the brush in your hands. Maybe ten moths ago, a month before your big exhibition, but you are not very sure. After you have visited doctor Hiriluk and then doctor Kureha, you haven’t touched your paint brushes.

“A few days ago.” You lie without even thinking twice. If you tell her the truth it will only make things worse, and you don’t need this right now.

“Do you mind showing it to me?” She carefully observes your face and body as you slowly nod. You are lying, and Rebecca doesn’t like this. Something is going on and you refuse to tell her, but why?

“Of course, but let’s finish with this first.” You look up at her with a big fake smile spread across your face as you lift one of the many books you have in your hand as a gesture to your sister to remember why she is here in a first place.

You had to wake up very early this morning to let the moving company in and leave your keys to the landlord. Thankfully your landlord, an amazing and sweet mid-sixty man, offered himself to lock after the moving company so you could go ahead and be at the house before them, for which you were more than grateful for and accepted the offer without wasting a second.

Taking a sip of your second coffee for the day, you are now just an hour away from Baterilla, your new home and fresh start. The road has been long once again, but you are almost there. With your windows down you can feel the early spring breeze blazing your skin. Even thought you are quite exhausted from last night, as Rebecca has stayed until quite late to help you and thankfully, by the end of it, out of energy to ask you more questions before she leaves, somehow you feel extremely energized as well. Today should be a good day, as it was the last time you came here. This is your new beginning set on your tempo and rules so what can go wrong?

Apparently, everything can go wrong. Standing on the front porch of your new home you are looking with disbelief all over your face at the men who are supposed to take care of your furniture.

“What do you mean you can’t get them inside?” You gesture with your hand at the furniture spread across the front of the house.

With a deep sigh and an eye roll one of the two men tries to explain to you calmly that there has been some mistake, and they must get back to the city as they have double booked today, and they must take care of their other customer’s furniture.

“So what? You must finish your job here first.” Your patience is wearing thin. They must be joking with you. This can’t be.

“Miss, we must go back, please understand.” The man tries again as his colleague makes his way back to the truck they have come with. “We will be back on Thursday and put your furniture in the house.” Lifting his hands in the air as the problem is being solved, he turns his back to you and starts to make his own way to the truck, but you are quick to follow him as you start walking angrily behind and grab his shoulder to stop him.

“Thursday? Are you crazy?” You yell at his face. “This is in two days! Am I supposed to just leave my things out here for two days?”

“As I said, we are sorry, but we are on a tight schedule, and we must drive five hours back.” His face is blank as a new canvas as he pushes away your hand and gets back in the truck.

“Oh, hell no! You two are not leaving until you get everything inside.” You try to open the door of the truck and get the man out, but his co-worker fast to lock the doors. “I will contact your boss.” Slamming your hand on the door, all you get back in return is another annoyed look and an eye roll from both men.

“Yea, yea miss, please do that.” The man replies rolling his window up as his co-worker starts the truck ready to leave.

You waste not a single second to run to the front of the truck as they are about to leave the driveway. Crossing your arms over your chest you gave them a cocky knowing look that says, ‘What are you going to do about this now?’ with one brow raised high – they can’t escape you.

Or that is what you tell yourself until you see them backing up and manoeuvre around you, leaving you standing in the middle of the street with face full of disbelief. Running after them hoping that they will stop, you just give up.

“Yes, yes – drive away. Assholes! I will demand a refund!” Screaming on top of your lungs as you stop running in the middle of the road, you are trying to catch your breath as the truck drives away. “Fucking assholes.” You whisper turning back around and walking slowly to your house, as your legs feel heavier than usual.

Standing in the middle of the sidewalk right in front of it, you look at all the boxes and furniture, trying to figure out how to get them inside the house all by yourself. Pulling your flip phone out of your back pocket, you dial the moving company number as you are planning to make a big fuss about what has just happened to their boss. After a few rings, the call is finally being answered, and you give no time to the person on the other side of it to even say hello as you snap at them.

“No, no, you listen to me. I will not wait until Thursday for your lazy employees to come and get my furniture in the house as this is an unacceptable behaviour.” You don’t remember the last time being this mad and aggravated. The audacity this company has is through the roof, and you are not having that. “Do you hear yourself?” Your voice is full of disbelief as you place the phone between your ear and shoulder, picking up the smallest boxes you have and start moving them into the house. Not only you must deal with this situation that you are in as of right now, but the weather has changed in a span of seconds and by the looks of it soon is about to start raining.

Heated into the argument you are having with the owner of the moving company, moving back and forth from inside to outside with boxes in your hands, you don’t hear nor see the dog who has run in your direction and before you know it you are laying on the ground with all of the things you are carrying spread around as you are trying to process what has just happened.

“Max, bad boy! Stop!” A male voice yells behind you.

Trying to get back on your feet you felt your hands starting to get stiff. “No, no, no. Not now, please, not now.” Whispering in fear your eyes focus on them. This can’t be happening right now. Taking a deep breath in you try to move slowly your fingers hoping that the stiffness will go away fast. “Come on, come on.”

“Hey, did you get hurt? Do you need help?” Hearing the same male voice, but now so much closer to you, you tilt your head at the direction where it comes from. Glancing up at him your eyes are met with a deep dark shade of brown ones. “I’m so sorry about Max. He just ran towards you the moment he saw you and didn’t listen to me.” The man chuckles awkwardly as he runs a hand through his raven black messy hair.

You are about to respond when you hear a bark. The dog who caused your fall, runs by next to the man and stands by his owner’s leg.

“Bad boy, Max.” The man scolds the dog as it sadly looks down at the ground. Looking back at you and seeing you still on the ground without moving he raises a brow. “Hey, you okay? You need hel-”

“I’m fine.” You cut him off fast as the last thing you need today is a pity from some stranger.

“You sure ‘bout that?” He replies, crouching to get a better view of you. Turning your face at him with a frown, the man is a bit taken aback. He doesn’t think that he has seen such a beautiful woman before in his life, let alone someone to make his breath caught up in his lungs for a moment.

“I said, I’m fine.” If your face doesn’t give off the vibe that you are both irritated and pissed at the same time, then your voice surely does it.

A makeshift puff of laugher escapes his lips as he observes your face, trying to take a glimpse of your eyes, which are avoiding his at all cost. “No, need to be stubborn. After all it’s my dog’s fault, so let me help you get ba-”

“What if I like laying on the ground? Has it crossed you mind?” Interrupting him once again, the dark haired man can’t help but laugh. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing...” He drags out waiting to hear you name, but you don’t give him anything. Finally, you start to feel your fingers and quickly go back on your feet. Patting all the sand away from your clothes you turn to look at the man who is now also back on his feet. “I’m Ace, nice to meet you...” Raising his right brow Ace makes a second attempt to get your name as he reaches with his hand for a handshake, but you just ignore it. Still avoiding his eyes, you murmur your name, and he repeats it as he makes sure to remember it. “I’m really sorry ‘bout Max.”

Lowering your eyes down to the ground you are met with an adorable golden retriever, who happily wiggles its tail, barking at you in a way like he greets you. “It’s fine.” You reply and finally trace your eyes to take a better look at the man in front of you. Quite tall and muscular, obviously older than you, but not a lot, at best late thirties you would guess, with a raven-black wavy hair reaching his shoulders and freckles spread across his cheeks. Dressed in black pants and just a simple white shirt, with red bead neckless around his neck. If you aren’t as pissed as you are right now, you might have been nicer to the man, but you are not – you are more than pissed at this point, you are aggravated. He has apologies already why is he still here.

“So, I guess you are the new owner of this house.” Ace says, crossing his arms over his chest and observing you, while waiting for your answer. What has gotten you so irritated? It can’t be just his dog. All he gets in response is a nod from you. “That’s nice. What made you movie here? Are you al-”

“Look, no need for a small talk, Ace...? It was Ace, right?” Deep down you know that later you will regret this. After all it is obvious that the man is just being polite and means no harm towards you, but he just happened to appear in the worst possible moment – first the moving company, then you having to carry everything by yourself and then you being swept to the ground by his dog, which you aren’t as mad about as you body betraying you when you have tried to stand up. “Why I moved here or whatever is up to me, now if you don’t mind, I would love to be left alone, and please if you can’t control your dog, put it on a leash or something.” You don’t even wait for a response when you turn around and crouch to pick up the things you have dropped.

“Hey, be as rude as you want to me, but careful with the comments ‘bout the dog.” Be rude, act bratty and arrogant as much as you want towards him, but Ace would never tolerate someone acting or speaking bad about his dog.

“Pff, whatever.” Murmuring under your breath once again you pay the man no attention. Grabbing the box steady in your hands you turn around and see him still standing there. “I think I made it clear that I want to be left alone, didn’t I?”

“Just a question, are you planning to get all of this in the house all by yourself?” His question isn’t mocking, but there is a hit of a mockery in his voice.

Swallowing hard and biting on the inside of your cheek you just nod. “Yes, why?”

“Look, princess.” He starts with a chuckle. “If you need help, I can help you.”

“Don’t pet name me.” Narrowing your eyes at him you are about to cuss him off when you notice something in the background, something quite familiar. “You know whose car is that?” Pointing at the silver truck car behind him, parked on your neighbour’s driveway, you fix your attention on it. You know this car; this is the same car of the same crazy person you have encounter on the crossway a month ago. This day can’t get worse that this – but apparently your neighbour turns out to be the crazy driver.

Raising his brow a bit and looking at you carefully, Ace throw a glance behind him at the car. “I do know. Why?”

“I’m sure this is the car of this crazy road rage maniac I encounter a month ago.” Hearing this his eyes widen a bit as realisation hits him. Taking a glance on the side he sees your car and recognises it immediately.  

“Well, if some people hadn’t missed four green lights in a row, that so called maniac wouldn’t have reacted the way he did.” Straighten his back and rolling his shoulders blades Ace looks at you, and now he is equally as pissed as you are. He can’t believe how can someone has such an attitude, when they have been the one who is in the wrong.

“Excuse me?” It doesn’t take you long to connect the dots that the ‘road maniac’ is him and that he also happens to be your neighbour. “First of all, it was my first time ever stepping foot in this town.” Walking closer to him you point your finger in his face. “Second, there could have been kids or people in general crossing the streets, what if you have hit someone?”

“Easy with the finger pointing.” He warns you as he takes a step closer to you, having have enough with your attitude. “Cut the bullshit. You’re the one who was at fault.”

“I did try to apologies, asshole.” You spat right back at him.

Deciding that there is no point in arguing with such a stubborn, big attitude, egocentric woman, Ace just turns around and calls after his dog to follow him.

“Oh, yes. Walkaway, you crazy maniac.” You yell after him with a big cocky smile spread across your face.

As he is turning back to look at you and close your big mouth shit, Ace feels a drop of rain falling on his cheek. Lifting his head up at the sky he feels more raindrops falling on his skin and a big cocky smile, similar to yours just a seconds ago, spread across his own face.

“Good luck, getting all this inside, princess.”  He clicks with his tongue as he sees the panic rushing all over your face as you feel the rain on your own skin. “Come on, Max. Let’s go, boy.” Whistling to his dog and patting the side of his left thigh, the dog happily follows his owner. “Good boy.”

Meanwhile you are not sure what to do next – you haven’t bothered to cover your furniture with anything last night so everything will get wet, and on top of it you don’t have anything to cover them with. Without wasting anymore time, you start running back and forth, trying to get everything inside as fast as possible, but there is no point. It’s pouring rain outside at this point, your sofa, armchair, all the textile furniture you have are wet and no matter what you try, you can’t get them inside by yourself, yet this doesn’t stop you from trying.

Looking at you from his kitchen, Ace sighs deeply with annoyance. Seeing how you are running back and forth, struggling to lift most of the boxes he feels a bit of a pity for you, but not so much to come help you, not like you deserve it. It is still shocking to him, how a beautiful young woman like you could have such an attitude toward a person who in fact tries to be polite with her and just introduce themselves. No matter how attractive you are, you are too young for him anyway, and he will never try to hit on a girl who is obviously still in her twenties, but due to the fact that you are going to be neighbours now, you can at least try to be nice to each other, but no – you happened to be a bitch.

A loud bark takes Ace out of his trance and makes him look away from the window. “Yea, I know boy. Some women are crazy.” Crouching next to his dog, Ace pets Max’s head as he happily barks and wiggle his tail. “Let’s make something to eat.”

You have given up. All you have managed to get inside are the boxes and some chairs, everything else you have left outside. Sitting in the middle of the kitchen, you have made yourself a warm cup of tea to calm yourself down.

Today is probably one of the worst days you have had in a long time. This hasn’t supposed to start like this. After you have given up on the furniture outside, you have called another moving company who has agreed to help you and they will come tomorrow morning, so this is one less problem to worry about.

But the thing you are feeling the worst about is your encounter with your neighbour. You have acted like a bitch towards him, and he didn’t deserve it, but you couldn’t help it. Since you have found out that you might be in first stage of Parkinson’s, something switched in you. You used to smile a lot, be nice, patient, kind to people. But not nowadays. After everything has gone down in your life, it feels like you have turned into something you don’t recognise anymore. You barely smile, having people around you irritates you to a point that you want to be isolated and far away from everyone, and that is why you have moved here in a first place. That is why you want to start new life as an escape from everyone and everything.

Of course, with your luck, everything from day one goes downhill, and you don’t know how to fix things. You don’t know if you actually want to fix them, maybe it is for better that things have turned out this way. You don’t want nor need friends, neighbours or whatever – you are all fine by yourself.

You are all fine by yourself, until it’s nighttime and there is no one to whom you can share your pain. No one to share how much you are afraid of the future and what it holds for you. No one to tell that even looking at the mirror you can’t recognise the face looking right back at you. That everything feels like you are locked in some lucid dream, no – nightmare, from which you can not escape.

It doesn’t matter how far away we go, where we go, or who we go with; at the end of the day no matter what you take yourself everywhere you go, yet recently you are not you. And this pains you, it pains you so deeply that almost every night you spend curled up in your bed, with tears falling down like waterfalls, yet no matter what you try nothing ease the pain. You want to scream, shout even, that this isn’t fair. Why you must endure this pain, why life has to take everything you love away from you? What have you done to deserve this?

Tonight, is no different than any other – you find yourself curled up in your new bed, which thankfully has been delivered here a week ago, so at least you have where to sleep. You have imagined tonight so much different, but as everything in this life nothing goes as planned for you. Curled up and clinging to the bed sheets with your fists wrap around them, your cries are silent, yet the need to scream is at the top of your lungs.

END NOTE: Again, I’m so sorry that it took so long to post chapter one. The thing is that I realised how much I suck with describing atmosphere and I really try to focus on this now as it’s important for the setting of the story. Another thing is that some of the things in the story include a lot of research + I have to really dig into Ace’s characters (more than usual) because making him in his 40s is a challenge as he can not act as he did when he was 20. And to make things also more complicated to me I made the story being set in the early 2000s so I must do research on how some things were back then as I was a baby back then haha. Anyway I hope that you enjoyed the first chapter and that you are willing to follow this story with the same interest as some of you follow THE NBHD. Your feedback is always appreciate by me ♡. Feel free to like, comment, reblog or message me about it. THANK YOU ♡♡♡

✰ taglist ✰ @orange-milky @neospade @bluetokie @glaciuswduo @izoswifey @darkomiomi @l-l-light

♡ comment or message me if you want to be included in the taglist ♡

writing, format & dividers © cinnamoonblue artwork @mxhxkxcx ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[lady-pug]

Written Between the Lines

Chapter III - Parallel Lines Intertwined

Summary: You are now betrothed to Aemond, with the promise of being crowned together when time comes, your family no longer headed unquestionably on warpath, but now you can’t help but wonder if this is truly what he wants, if he’s as happy as you are with this arrangement.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 3,6k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece), nudity, making out, allusions to sex, canon-typical misogyny regarding sex and female virginity, some steaminess (but nothing more than that really)

Notes: Another chapter is here! Yay!

I’m tagging this as mature because there’s some steaminess in it but not full blown smut (yet).

I’ve accidentally fallen in love with these two and cannot stop thinking about them, I have so many installments planned out you guys have no idea.

I decided to use some High Valyrian as I had mentioned before Aemond and reader are used to speaking it with one another (does it break consistency, as I haven’t used it until now? yes, but better late than never). For this I used an online translator (I don’t know if it’s grammatically correct, I’ll just roll with it, if someone spots any mistakes please let me know and I’ll correct it right away), translations are in the end notes.

Thank you so so much for reading and I hope you have enjoyed this story! <3

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The steaming water was doing wonders for your sore muscles. You hadn’t realized how tense you had been until you had reached your chambers and felt as if a weight had been lifted off your chest, your shoulders slumping with the force of everything falling into place. No sooner had you stepped foot inside your room you requested that the maids fix you a bath, the water steaming hot. Now, with your body submerged and the steam clouding your thoughts, you felt like you could finally breathe properly. 

It had worked. Your mad, crazy, stupid idea had worked. At least as well as one could expect. Alicent and Otto, of all people, had agreed to it, and now it seemed like there would no longer be a war inside House Targaryen. The promise of their blood eventually occupying the Iron Throne seemed to appease them enough to, most likely, support your mother’s claim as King Viserys’ heir, apparently no longer questioning her legitimacy as ruler just because she was not a man.

But now, alone in your chambers, you were no longer sure of yourself. While, yes, this idea could just fix things within your shattered family, you weren’t exactly sure if everyone involved was on-board with it. 

After your dance with Aemond was cut short due to the King feeling unwell and needing to be escorted back to his chambers, to which Alicent nudged Rhaenyra to follow and spend some moments with him (something that lit a flicker of hope in your chest that things could indeed be mended), you hadn’t managed to speak to him for the rest of the night. Once you returned to the table, you caught Luke giggling under his breath, and when you realized what exactly he was laughing at you were quick to pull him from his seat and request a dance. You swiftly poked Helaena on your way to the open area of the room, who in turn pulled Aemond for a dance before he could notice, signaling her mother to alert the servants to move the offending dish to the middle of the table and away from his seat.

The night ended not long after, Baela and Rhaena keeping you company, the three of you giggling like little girls at the thought of your respective betrothals. However, once you were all excused by the Queen, you didn’t even manage to catch a glimpse of Aemond, who was whisked away by his grandsire with his mother following behind them.

And here you were. Although you had no doubt this plan of yours was the right thing to do, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was what he wanted. Even though you knew this was the right thing for the realm, for your family even, was it the right thing for the two of you? As you stared at your face reflected upon the surface of the water, dark thoughts simmered in your mind. Perhaps you had been blinded by his words regarding his mother’s wishes to find him a wife, or by the resentment he felt towards the treatment his brother received. What if he wanted nothing to do with you? What if he wanted to ascend to the Throne of his own accord, or what if he wanted to be wed to someone else, one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters, maybe?

At least there's no doubt about the purity of their blood.

He could have any woman on the realm if he wished. He was just so regal, all sharp edges and cunning eye, and you were merely… you, your mind tried to convince you.

Would you give up your freedom and be trapped in a loveless marriage just for the sake of your family and the realm?

Not loveless, that nagging voice in the back of your mind spoke out of turn again, just unrequited.

The answer was most definitely yes. You’d rather have him, even if not the whole of his being, than not have him at all. And if you could prevent the realm, and your own family, to succumb into flames and ashes in the process? All the more reason to do so.

Lost in your thoughts you barely heard the unmistakable sound of stone sliding against stone, as the wall suddenly pulled back to reveal the man in question.

“A-Aemond?” you stammered, sliding further into the water in order to preserve some shred of your dignity “What are you doing here?”

A deep, low hum was his only response as he stepped further into the room and closed the secret door behind him. The soft patter against the stone cold floor indicated that he was barefoot; that, along with the white linen shirt and soft looking breeches he was wearing, meant he was just about to go to bed before he decided to come visit you, for whatever reason.

“Qȳbor…” you bristled when he refused to elaborate.

“Can I not visit my future wife’s chambers to check on her well-being, mandianna?” he spoke lowly, his eye never leaving your frame.

“We are not yet married.” you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze “This hardly seems proper.”

He again only hummed, eye flitting around the room, before pulling his shirt over his head.

A sudden heat rushed to your cheeks as you stared at him. Much like you had noticed before, he was slim, his form lithe and elongated, making him appear even taller now that he wasn’t covered in green leather. His muscles, on the other hand, were well defined, taunt under his skin as if sculpted in the finest of marbles, his years of training with a sword under Ser Criston Cole reflected on his flesh.

His lips pulled in a smirk as you basked in his image, swiftly untying and pulling down his breeches as well. That caused you to avert your eyes immediately, going as far as to hide your peripheral vision behind your hand.

“What are you doing?!” you squealed in surprise, not at all expecting him of all people to pull a stunt like this. Aegon? Sure, but him?

“You once told me it was nothing you hadn’t seen before.” he spoke, amusement dripping from his tone as he walked closer to the tub.

“Yes, when we were children. Not like this.”

You felt the ripples of warm water beating against your skin as he joined you in the bath, leaning back against the side of the wooden tub with his legs extended in front of him, only slightly bent at the knees as they brushed softly against your own. You quickly pulled your knees to your chest, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“Why do you hide from me?” he asked, his lips curling in a smirk “You are to be my lady wife, we ought to see each other like this on many occasions.”

“Like I said” you hissed, crossing your arms over your breasts and straightening your spine, his eye following your every move “we are not married yet.” 

He hummed in response, pursing his lips as if annoyed with your resistance, but you could see the mirth swimming in his eye. He extended his arms over the rim of the tub on either side of his body, and when your eyes involuntarily followed his movement, retaining your gaze on his chest for a tad too long, he smirked. Heat burned your cheeks as you averted your eyes, realizing that he enjoyed watching you squirm.

“Why are you here?” you questioned, annoyance simmering in your voice.

He stared at you for a long moment, like he was assessing you, searching for something, but what you couldn’t tell.

“I wanted to see you.” he spoke before glancing away from you, his once jesting tone having turned soft, betraying his sincerity.

That statement had you feeling all your annoyance dissolving, your body uncurling and legs extending closer to him. If you were to be honest with yourself you wanted to see him too, you desperately wished to know what was going through his mind during supper and after. You wished to know what he thought about you.

His mind seemed far away for a moment as he chewed on his lip before his gaze fell on you once more.

“My grandsire had interesting things to say about your proposal.” the corner of his mouth turned up almost imperceptibly “More so than my mother.”

That caught your attention.

“What did he say?”

“She was, albeit vexed by your choice of timing for the delivery of said proposal, delighted.” he completely ignored your question, choosing instead to talk about Alicent Hightower instead of Otto “Like I mentioned earlier, she’s been nagging me to find a wife, and now you’ve just delivered the solution on a silver platter for her.” his smile softened “She wished to know if I was happy with this arrangement.”

“And what did you say?” your throat felt as dry as the Dornish desert, and you wondered if he could hear you swallow nervously. But from the way his grin turned again into a smirk you knew you wouldn’t get the answers you craved for.

“My grandsire on the other hand was perfectly satisfied.” he shrugged, as if Otto Hightower’s opinion didn’t truly matter to him “He believes the Seven have answered mother’s prayers of having one of us be crowned king, and that this gives us the perfect opportunity to seize the throne for ourselves.”

“What?” you physically recoiled, shoulders curling into yourself once more, as if you were physically struck by his words.

“He told me” he continued, either not noticing your reaction or wanting to push forward regardless “that when time came for us to be crowned, you and I, I was to usurp you of your ‘birthright’ and be crowned the sole King of the Seven Kingdoms.”

You let your arms drop from their position over your chest, not even being able to revel in the way pink dusted Aemond’s cheeks as his eye followed down our body to your now exposed breasts, so much was your shock. You felt so stupid, so humiliatingly naive in having believed such a ridiculous idea could ever work. Otto Hightower would never respect you, or your mother, or any possible daughters you came to have simply because you were all women. Just remembering the way you stood before him, before your entire family, before Aemond himself and said those foolish and rehearsed words, dragged yourself practically as low as the streets at Flea Bottom, made your eyes sting in embarrassment. 

You were so caught up in your own swirling thoughts you barely noticed Aemond’s smirk slipping from his face, a frown now adorning his features.

“You cannot possibly believe I would do such a thing.” he let his own arms fall back into the water, his back straightening as he looked at you almost… hurt? “Do you truly think so lowly of me?”

You couldn’t hold his stare any longer, shame clawing at your chest and climbing up your throat. The truth was you didn’t know him. It’s been six long years since you’d last spoken, you couldn’t possibly know who he was anymore. Had he turned out like Aegon? Or had his grandsire shaped him in his image, a mere puppet for him to manipulate and do his bidding for him?

His stare hardened, a resigned exhale leaving him as extended a hand in your direction.

“Come here.” 

You didn’t dare move a muscle, too scared to embarrass yourself even further. That wouldn’t do it for him tho, if the annoyance that took over his features was anything to go by, and his hand found your ankle underwater and tugged. Hard. Unexpectedly you found yourself almost on top of him, holding onto his naked shoulders for balance as the contents of the tub sloshed around the two of you and over onto the ground.

“Aemond-!” you chastised him, trying to pull away but one of his arms snaked around your waist, holding you firmly in place. Something about the whole situation, the way his eye was locked on yours, as if studying you, felt strangely intimate, making your heart skip a beat. 

Then, with the lightest of touches, he grabbed one of your hands almost reverently, removing it from its place on his shoulder and holding it in his own, the back of your hand against his palm so your own was facing up. He brought it closer to his face, examining it closely, his thumb caressing your skin in slow movements. Where his palms were calloused, you noticed, his fingers were silkily soft, the gentleness in his touch making shivers run down your spine and goosebumps prickle your skin all the way up your arm.

“Your line of life is quite long, thankfully.” he hummed, not taking his eye off your palm, so he didn’t notice the confusion brimming in your eyes “And your line of heart not only tilts upwards, but it is also incredibly long, almost touching the place where your palm meets your fingers, right here.” 

“And what does that mean?” you whispered, not daring to speak any louder for it might break the spell that befell upon the two of you.

“You will be the most beloved woman in the entire realm.” he whispered back, his eye finally meeting yours, a storm of emotions threatening to spill over in the form of unshed tears “Your lord husband would burn the whole of the Seven Kingdoms to the ground just to see you smile.” 

Wetness dripped down your cheeks but you could no longer distinguish between tears and the lukewarm water from the bath. Your heart clenched and twisted painfully in your chest as his gaze turned to your palm once more.

“And would you look at that,” Aemond gently turned your palm towards you, pointer finger tapping against a faint line near your wrist “it’s the line of the king. Or should I say queen.” he glanced at you once more, a soft smile growing on his lips “You once told me it only appeared on the hands of those destined to rule over the realm.” 

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, a choked sob threatening to escape, desperately clinging to his every word.

“I may not be like my sister, for the future eludes me.” the arm around your waist tightened its grip, bringing you even closer to him as he rested his forehead against your own, bringing your intertwined hands close to his chest “But if there is one thing I can promise you is that you will be queen.” his next breath came out of his lips trembling with barely contained emotion “And I’ll be right by your side when that happens.”

The sound that left your lips was a perfect blend of a laugh and a sob, your lips quivering as you tried so very hard not to collapse into his arms as all your previous worries vanished. His own face lit up in a genuine, full blown smile that brightened his face; you couldn’t even remember when the last time he allowed himself to smile as brightly as he was now. It suited him.

Warmth filled your chest, quickly climbing up to your face, as he nuzzled his nose against yours, but one detail made you pull back. His face twisted in confusion, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the line of his scar.

“I wish to see all of you.” you spoke softly.

“You already have me bare before you, woman. What more could you possibly want?” Aemond tried jesting but you could notice the way his entire body tensed against your touch.

“I want to see all of you.” you whispered, thumb catching against the edge of his eyepatch.

Before you could lift it, though, his hand shot out unexpectedly, halting your movements by encircling your wrist. His fingers were firm against your skin, but his touch didn’t hurt; you didn’t think he ever could, not again. You didn’t press any further, nor did you retreat, waiting for him to either give you permission to continue or push you away. He did neither. Instead, his other hand reached up and removed the eyepatch from his face, throwing it somewhere around the room.

You didn’t truly know what exactly you were expecting but were surprised all the same. Where you believed you’d find an empty socket lay a small round sapphire, hidden from the world beneath his eyepatch most of the time. It was alluring, glimmering under the light emitted from the candles, contributing to his mystifying nature. His grip on your wrist loosened, and you took this as an opportunity to cradle his jaw, tilting his head to be able to see his eye from different angles. The gem suited him, the deep blue contrasting with the violet of his other eye.

“Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?” you breathed out.

“Not a single soul.” he shook his head, his own breath coming out trembled.

“Well, then, they are utterly blind, the lot of them.” you caressed the corner of his mouth, bringing your own lips impossibly closer to his “You are beautiful, Aemond.”

Something shifted in him, the last of his restrain melting away under your touch, as he leaned forward and closed the gap between your lips, sealing them in a tentative kiss. His lips were a contradiction on their own. For a man so taunt and sharp and strong, his lips were incredibly soft, akin to his voice, as strange as the comparison sounded. He kissed you unhurriedly, almost chastely, his hands finding hold in your waist. You pulled back for a moment and his lips chased your own, unwilling to part from you just yet. 

His mouth then started tracing a path of lazy kisses down your body, first against your jaw, then slowly down your neck. It was when his grip on your waist tightened, trying to bring your hips closer to his own, that you pulled back, a hand against his chest.

“We can’t.” you mumbled regretfully. He tried sitting up again, get closer to you once more, but you pushed him back gently, cupping his face in both your hands “Aemond, please.” 

“Why must you deprive me of what I long for so desperately?” he whined against your lips.

“I cannot risk losing you…” you exhaled, voice barely above a whisper. 

It was his turn to pull back, eyebrows curling in confusion, and you knew he wouldn’t let you go without an explanation.

“When I was close to reaching marrying age, mother pulled me aside to explain some of the more… intricate details of what goes on between a husband and a wife.” you shrugged, the same embarrassment you felt back then flooding you now, before you sighed “She also told me what befell her before she married my father.”

Realization dawned upon him, remembering all the times his mother uttered words unbefitting of a queen to address not only her successor, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but also a former dear friend. Words more suited to the women who worked on the Street of Silk. From what he had gathered over the years this was the very last nail on the coffin of their friendship.

“I will not allow the same to happen to me.” your tone and your eyes alike hardened, fingers grasping his face more firmly as you forced his gaze to remain on you. Not that he could look at anything else with the way you spoke with such determination “I will not allow my virtue to be made a spectacle of, I will not give the opportunity for some lesser man from a little house to question it, to question me.”

Aemond couldn’t help but swallow thickly, the fierceness in your voice doing humorous things to his heart. 

“If I was born a man this wouldn’t be a concern, but alas I was not.” something in you softened, fingers letting go of his cheeks and sliding softly to cradle the place where his jaw met his ears “If your mother so much as hears word of any misdemeanor, at least in her eyes, on my part she will tear us apart. Kesan daor ivestragī zirȳla gūrogon ao hen nyke.”

I will not let her take you from me.

When questioned later, he wouldn’t be able to tell you what came over him, but something inside his very soul snapped as he surged forward, claiming your lips in a desperate kiss. His lips moved against yours with the intensity of a man starved, like he was overcome in a thirst only your mouth could quench. It was passionate, it was harsh, it was… honestly kind of clumsy, all tongue and clashing teeth, like he didn’t truly know what he was doing. Huh. You would store this information away for later.

He pulled back with the last bit of self control he had, practically whimpering when your lips parted, resting his head on the crook of your neck. 

“Kesan umbagon.” his breath was labored as he spoke, placing a tiny kiss on your shoulder before raising his head to look at you “I will always wait for you, ābrazȳrys.”

Your heart soared at the term, but when he went to gently move you away from him so he could stand up you gripped his hand to stop him.

“Stay.” you pleaded “Just a little while longer, please.”

Aemond smiled lovingly, helping maneuver you so you were sat between his legs, with your back against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. His arms wrapped protectively around you, his fingers absently drawing patterns against the skin of your arm. The water from the tub had since run cold but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you were in his arms.

Aōha valzȳrys. Aōha dārys.

High Valyrian translations: - qȳbor - uncle (mother’s younger brother) - mandianna - niece (older sister’s son or daughter) - kesan umbagon - I will wait - ābrazȳrys - wife - aōha valzȳrys - your husband - aōha dārys - your king

Also, this two were getting quite steamy while Viserys was literally dying in the other room. At least this time Rhaenyra was the one with him so, you know, no mixing up names this time (I stand by my argument that if Alicent’s eldest son was called Godofredo none of this would have happened, but the Targaryens were not known for their creativity when naming their children).

Tag List:

@callsignwidow

@sleephereicome

[multifandomgirl08]

The One That I Adore [Bittersweet Mini Series]

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary: She promised him that he would see her again. She just never said when that would be.

A/N: Sorry for the super long wait of this chapter. My inspiration for this work has been at a bit of a stand still. But I already have the next two chapters started so they will hopefully be done sooner.

Words: 3.5k

Previous Part → Next Part Bittersweet Masterlist

This whole night was too much for him. Charles could appreciate being in Santorini for the awards ceremony but had no desire to stay for the actual gala after the awards were handed out.  

Charles had been with Lando, Pierre, Max, and Max’s wife at the awards ceremony. Giving out the awards had ended half an hour ago. The married couple had disappeared about 10 minutes ago and they hadn’t been seen since.

“Has anyone seen the Verstappen’s?” Lando asked.

“I think they went back to their hotel,” Pierre replied. That was what everyone assumed happened when Max unexpectedly disappeared from a party. Either they went home if they were in Monaco, or Belgium, or back to their hotel room for the night. It wasn’t like it mattered, Max had already done all of his media duties for the night.

“Really?” Lando asked, Charles could tell from the tone of his voice that his question was littered with a sarcastic tone. “Because I’m pretty sure I just saw them snogging in the corner by the coat closet.”

Lando pointed in the direction of the way out of the room. Charles couldn’t help but lightly chuckle.

“It’s like their wedding all over again,” Lando said with a slight groan. “Only this time, Daniel isn’t taking pictures of the whole thing.”

“At least it’s not Barcelona 2023 when she decided to surprise Max.” Pierre couldn’t help but bring up with a laugh.

“I told both of them and you that it was an accident.” Lando just shook his head, but Charles could spot the light blush that was now painting Lando’s cheeks.

Charles knew that Lando was tired of hearing about that time when he had walked up to Max’s hotel room after the Grand Prix was over to ask if he wanted to get drinks and ended up finding the hotel room door not all the way closed, and Max and his then-girlfriend, now wife in a compromised position. There was never enough brain bleach to remove what Lando saw from his memory when he walked into that hotel room that day.

“What’s going on with you?” Pierre asked as they stood together. “You have been acting strange since the moment I saw you.”

Sometimes Charles forgot how well Pierre knew him. Charles hadn’t really been talking to any of the other guys. His eyes were too busy running over the crowds of people looking for her, he hadn’t seen her since he showed up. The one bright spot of his whole evening was nowhere to be seen.

“Nothing.” He quickly replied. Pierre gave him a look that would have given his less-than-stellar English a run for its money.

“You are lying through your teeth.” Pierre’s switch to French made Lando look at them both.

“I’m not lying, I’m just looking at the people.” He raised his shoulders in defense.

“Right,” Pierre said before looking away.

Charles looked through the crowd of people again not seeing her anywhere. Maybe she wasn’t here tonight, maybe something had come up with her schooling or something. Hadn’t she said that her uncle normally came to these events instead of her?

“Carlos,” Charles heard Lando say. “Can you please help me out with Charles? It’s like he’s on another planet or something.”

Charles pulled up the sleeve of his dress shirt to look at his watch. It read 9:45 pm. He was allowed to leave by 11:30 after all of his press duties were done. That’s what he gets for showing up late.

“I’m sorry Lando, but I can not help you,” Carlos said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Why not?”

“Because he has been like this since Monaco.”

“That was six months ago.” Charles wanted to correct Lando, it wasn’t six months it had been seven months since the Monaco Grand Prix.

Charles hadn't bothered telling anyone else on the grid about her. Max knew and so did his wife. Charles didn't want to be teased by any of the other drivers when it came to her. He was too scared that she would run from him and he wouldn't see her again, and he wasn’t willing to bet on that.

The rest of the Gala passed by painstakingly slow, Charles didn’t see her anywhere and at this point was pretty sure that she either wasn’t here or negated her promise to him.

At one point Charles got stuck in a conversation with a few of the Ferrari sponsors and one of them had mentioned that his niece was supposed to come with him tonight but couldn’t because of a scheduling issue with her school. His interests peaked for a moment. But it couldn’t be her, there was no way they were the same person.

By the time 11:15 rolled around, Charles said his goodbyes to Fred after managing to slip away from the crowds of people, and made his way out to his car to go back to his hotel. Once he got to the hotel, he changed out of his suit and then quickly sat at his little portable piano. His fingers glided over the black and white keys. A somber melody played as he tried to think of her, dancing in her red dress, in the reverie of his mind.

The Ferrari Fashion show was something that Charles had grown used to. It was a part of driving for the team. He would get to sit in a crowd, hopefully be unrecognizable, and watch clothes go down a runway.

There were so many faces that he didn’t recognize, not a single sponsor in the room, but plenty of influencers, and fashion people that he didn’t normally rub elbows with.

It was easy to find his seat from there, it was on a white card on the backrest in the first row towards the front of the white runway. Some people were already sitting, others were standing by their seats.

He took his time walking over, seeing people in Ferrari branded clothes, or some off shade color of the famous Rosso corsa. He took a seat, and could see Lewis on the other side of the runway in a red Louis Vuitton set with black shoes.

More seats started to fill up, and for a moment he swore he saw her pass by in one of the back rows. But as soon as she was there, the lights had started to dim signifying the show starting.

Charles did his best to keep his eyes on the models and the clothes that were coming down the runway, but sometimes the light would hit just past the first row and he would go looking for her in the crowd.

The show felt like it lasted forever, models going around an endless carousel. The sound of cameras constantly clicking felt like hands on a clock going around and around, click, click, click.

The show eventually ended, people started walking out in little packs. Charles stayed behind for a few moments before someone knocked shoulders with him pushing him towards the front of the room. There was supposed to be some dinner happening after the show that he wasn’t sure if he would be going to.

“I think it would be good for you to go.” He heard from an older gentleman standing next to someone. “You’re working for us now, you’re going to have to get used to being around these types of people.”

“I know uncle,” He heard in a voice he had memorized by now.

“You’ll do great. I believe that you can impress any person in this room if you try.”

She gave the man a nod and heard her say, ”I’ll try.”

He was quick to reply afterwards saying that he would see her after the dinner and to text if she needed anything. He saw the older man get into a black town car and drive away.

She was still standing there and Charles took small steps towards her. He was pretty sure that she wasn’t paying him any attention, just looking from her phone to the back alley of the venue. When she finally did look up, their eyes instantly met. He felt like he could see a glimpse of worry fill her eyes for a moment before it disappeared.

It took her a moment to say anything, and he could tell how awkward she felt for a bit. Eventually they talked about the show, which was a little boring but he hadn’t seen her in almost a year and didn’t want to push her.

“Are you heading to the dinner now?”

“Yeah, just waiting for my car.”

“We can take mine since we are going to the same place.” He felt like he was pushing his luck a little, asking if she would want to sit in an enclosed space with him for the half-an hour it would take to get to their dinner location.

“Umm,” She said, sounding a little unsure. “Okay. I guess.”

She was quick to tuck her phone into the small handbag that was hanging off her wrist. They walked over to the valet and waited until the red Ferrari pulled up. They both got in with the sound of Ambient Downtempo music that filled the silence of the car ride, it wasn’t Charles’ normal preference but she didn’t seem to mind, even having the courage to reach over and turn the stereo up at a song she seemed to like.

For Charles it was definitely a challenge to drive through the city and be able to concentrate on the road while she was sitting so close to him. Just as Charles felt like he was gaining the courage to talk to her they had pulled up to where the dinner was being hosted. He was happy to see that there weren’t any cameras around the car waiting to catch pictures of him.

Charles had gotten out of the car. He intended to walk over to the other side to open her door, but the valet had beat him to it. However, he still waited for her, giving her his arm so it would be a little easier to walk in. “Thank you.” She muttered before tucking her head a little low. He gave her a smile, trying to do his best to reassure her. He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to. They made their way through before finding out that they would be sitting at different tables. They were sectioned off by number, she had tucked the place card into her bag before he got the chance to look. Charles took his but still let her hold onto his arm before they walked into the room finally separating.

He let her slip away from him, doing nothing more than exchanging a smile and parting ways. He was sure that he would see her again tonight.

Dinner had been a slow affair. He had been sitting with Lewis, and although his fellow teammate was nice to talk to about team things, he would have preferred to sit and talk with her instead. The second course had come and Lewis had left to the other side of the room. He saw her move from her chair at a far table, moving closer to the side of the room that he was on. He had been eating through his burrata and tomatoes when he could see her again. “I am so sorry.” He heard close to him. “You were sitting over there right?” He didn’t hear a response. “I hate to ask, but would you mind switching tables with me?”

“Sure.” He heard before he saw a woman with blonde hair move out of her seat that was at the same table as Charles and saw her move into that seat instead. 

He had watched the blonde woman move to the far side of the room, retaking the further seat and started talking to someone at that table. This was Charles’ opportunity to talk to her again, she was only sitting on the other side of his table.

He lifted his hand up slightly trying to catch her attention. She barely lifted her hand back to wave at him before he moved his napkin off his lap and onto the chair next to him. He was hoping that she would have the courage to come and sit next to him since he seemed to be the only person that she knew here.

She didn’t, at least not at first. She seemed to pick at the food on her plate taking a few bites before placing her fork back down. He always felt like a bit of a voyeur looking at her, watching as her eyes moved around the room until they stopped at him.

Her eyes looked at him as if she was asking as if it was okay to come up to him, her eyes going slightly to his left to the open chair where his napkin was. He gave her a small nod, telling her it was okay to sit with him despite the fact that it was someone else's seat.

She had moved from her seat and over to him, he picked up his napkin and placed it back in his lap pushing his chair out just a tad so he could turn away from Lewis’ chair to talk to her.

It takes her a few moments to move from one chair to another. He notices that she sets her bag down first before pulling the chair out.

"Hey," she greets him.

"Hi." He can't help but say back. For all the flirting that he has done with her the last few times he saw her he can't seem to do that anymore. He knows a family member of hers is a team sponsor, he would love to pretend that he is unaware of this.

"You weren't at the last Gala," He blurts out.

Her eyes filled with recognition, "Yeah, something with school came up. I was in my last semester and had finals but I'm now out of college and working for my uncle."

So, she hadn't negated on her promise. "It was not the same without you," He says before he can stop himself. "Too stuffy, sitting around waiting for things to happen." Charles knows he's rambling a bit but he did miss her. He needs to finally get the courage to ask for her number, that would be much easier.

"Is this like that as well?" She asked.

"No," He moved to pick up his fork. "I get to leave after dinner and get to go back to my hotel."

"You don't go party after?"

"No, no. I am not Lando." Placing his fork down and waving his hands in protest.

"So what do you do then?"

"Normally I go and play my piano in my room, or watch something." He enjoyed his solitude. It was part of his whole tortured artist thing that Arthur liked to make jokes about. Which was funny since his younger brother was very much the same.

She doesn't say anything for a moment. Did she think that was an invitation to come back to his hotel with him?

"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm bad at this... We keep meeting at these events and-"

"It never goes further?" He asks. She nods back at him.

“Maybe we can exchange numbers or-” He started to say and then cut himself off. No, bad idea. Her family worked for his team.

“Or?” She askes.

“Next time, you can come with me?” He lets himself ask. He knows he’s taking a risk.

“Come with you?” She asks back.

“Yes, I pick you up from your hotel or where you are staying. We can cordinate with whoever sets you up to come to these events.” This feels like a longshot. She won’t agree to this.

“Do you really want to see me that badly again?” She asks. He can feel like she wants to say that she’s not special enough for that.

All he can do is nod at her. There is nothing else that he can say. Or nothing that he can say that he knows won’t scare her off. He would like to say that he feels like he’s falling for her, that he wants to get to know her more, to feel like he has a tangable part of her for him to grab onto instead of just the moments they seem to catch each other in.

He doesn’t want to keep thinking of her as the girl who sneaks off during the party, he wants to always have the image of her dancing in his mind to the melody that comes from his fingers. He’s sick of looking at the incomplete page of sheet music, it’s been tauning him since he last saw her.

“I-” She starts to say and then cuts herself off. “I can-” She’s cut off by someone coming to their table.

“Uncle,” She quickly says to the older man he saw at the Prize Giving Gala at the end of last year. Her eyes are wide, she is obviously surprised to see him.“I thought I was going to see you after.”

“You were supposed to, but something came up.” The older man says. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking a flight back home. My assistant will call you in the morning with your flight details. I don’t want you to feel stranded here without knowing what’s going on.”

She gives him a nod back.

The older man looks at him and then back to her.

“Take care of her son.” He said to Charles. “I’ll call you when your at home on Monday.”

The older man leaves them. Charles can’t help but let out a heavy breath.

She immediately starts to apologize after, “He’s like that with everyone.”

“And you work for him?” He asks.

“He offered me a job after I was finished with school, a good stepping stone.”

“And you also live with him?” He can’t help but ask even though he knows that he’s assuming.

“No, I don’t. My uncle lives in New York. When I was going to school I lived in Los Angeles, but I work at my uncles office in Monaco… It’s been a big adjustment these last 6 months.”

Ah that explains a lot of things, it really seemed like she just disappeared from the world for a while. She probably has been under a lot of stress.

“Well, I would still like to go to the next event with you. If you can clear it with your uncle.”

“I would love to but I’m not sure if-” She starts to say.

And he can read the rejection, he knows what it is.

He instead reaches for his phone before she can say anything else.

“Just take my number. If he says no, then I at least know that you tried.” He takes the place card with his name on it and shovels around in the pockets of his jacket. He knows he has a pen somewhere even though he hates that it’s become a habit that he now carries one with him.

He starts to write it before slowly handing it over.

He watches as she tentatively takes it from him and slips it into her small bag that doesn’t even look big enough to fit a phone in.

He can only sit and keep talking to her from there. Her shoulders seem to loosen again after a bit. They bring out the next course of food and sit and talk as they both pick at what ends up on their plates.

There is a low brrng of a phone going off close to them before she looks down and sees her pull out a phone from under her dress. It doesn’t look like it would fit into the bag she has with her.

‘I’m sorry.’ she mouthes and then moves to walk to the other side of the room.

He can feel that she is being forced away from him, and all he wants to do is sink his fingers around her wrist and pull her back.

He doesn’t though. He watches her be pulled away from him to the other side of the room to talk to whoever is on the phone, and then into a conversation with someone else to rub shoulders with other people he doesn’t care to acknowledge. She seems to disappear into the night at some point, after being paraded around the room and all he can do it wait for the dinner to end and go back to his hotel room. He doesn’t bother changing, opens the piano cover and sinks his fingers into the keys on the far right end, the haunting notes spilling from his fingers.

It seems like she will continue to live in his daydreams a little longer.

He finds the sheet music with her melody on it and at the top of the page writes;

He places the pen on the sheet music stand and leaves it sitting there. We will meet again, he promises himself after he’s moved off the piano stool to finally change out of his suit.

Bittersweet taglist: @omgsuperstarg, @bite-me-en-la-boca, @itsjustkhaos, @cixrosie, @konsti081

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sit Next To Me

Chapter 3: That’s Actually Very Unreasonable.

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

...Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Yay! Ch 3 is finally done! I pay Rugby and practice started up this week, which is a big reason this wasn't done a little bit sooner. But thank you to everyone for bearing with me and thank you SO MUCH for the support. I've received so many kind comments and messages, I'm so happy that I decided to actually finish and post this instead of letting it it in my google drive. Chapter 4 is coming, I'm not gonna promise when, but its on the way.

At the request of at least one person, I'm going to start a tag list in the replies of each chapter, lmk if you want to be added to that!

ALSO. Someone sent in a request and I am very excited about this. I wasn't planning on asking for requests, but I think it would be good for me to use those as a brain break from the main long form story. So if anyone is interested, feel free to send one shot or head canon requests my way! NSFW or SFW is fine! If you have questions, send an ask :) Anyways, I'll shut up now. Enjoy <3

Read on AO3

Waking up on Saturday was…difficult, to say the least.  After spending the summer mostly sober, save for the occasional drink with your dad or joint by yourself, your body was not prepared for the previous night's substance intake. You felt grimy when you came to in your bed. Your skin sticky from sweat, your mouth dryer than all hell, and your brain felt like it had been shaken in a jar. Laying there, face in your pillow, the pros and cons of climbing out of bed tumbled around your head.

You decided that if it was before noon, you’d allow yourself a few more hours of sleep, otherwise you had to get up. Blindly you stuck a hand onto the counter at the head of your bed, knocking things left out from last night around until you found your phone. The bright screen made your temple pulse when you clicked it on.

12:01.

You dropped your head and groaned into the pillow. A deal was a deal, though, even with yourself. You gave yourself grace as you sat up in bed, looking around your tiny double dorm room. Bright light shone around the edge of the blinds, making you squint. Clothes were still scattered around your side, your hightops dropped haphazardly on the floor, not far from your shorts. You had barely managed to piss, brush your teeth, and put on clean underwear before knocking out last night. You could still feel what little makeup you had on last night smeared around your eyes. All of your pre-made plans to hydrate and clean up before going to bed were abandoned as soon as you set foot into your room. 

Lest on the other hand, looked like a princess in her bed. Washed hair in two braids, fresh pjs on, and her trusty sleep mask covering her eyes. She even layed like a princess, flat on her back with her hands folded on her stomach. You envied her discipline for hygiene even when drunk. 

You slid out of bed. Bracing yourself on the frame with a groan when your stomach flipped. Lest didn’t even flinch, she slept both like a princess and a log. You left on the clothes you slept in, wrapped a towel around your waist, and gathered your shower bag. First order of business was to clean up, because even one more minute of feeling like you were covered in a film of alcohol and smoke and you were gonna peel your skin off. 

The shared hallway was aggressively bright, but fortunately empty. You were sure you couldn’t handle an awkward ‘on the way to the shower’ run in with a hallmate right now. You’d probably throw up on the carpet. Luckily on a well weathered first Saturday of the semester, the hall was virtually abandoned. Which also meant that the only single user bathroom on your side of the building was free.

You leaned heavily against the closed door, eyes screwed shut as you fought back the wave of nausea that came with your short walk. With your eyes closed you found the automatic light switch, pushing the button to shut the lights down. The frosted window let in just enough light to see without burning your eyes out. You hung up your things and started the shower, knowing it would take a while for it to warm up. 

You took that time to brush your teeth, sick of the grit that lined your mouth. When you saw yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but to cringe. You were a wreck. The makeup around your eyes was worse than you imagined, smeared completely around your eyes in an intense racoon mask. Your hair was half out of the scrunchie you had pulled it into on the way home, hanging awkwardly on your neck. As you brushed your teeth, you tilted your head at the borrowed shirt realizing something off about it. You frowned at it in the mirror, trying to make out what the writing said. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Metallica. You spit in the sink and set your toothbrush to the side before pulling the shirt over your head. It didn’t say Metallica, it said Mozart in the Metallica font. 

You snorted a laugh, “Jayce, what the fuck?” Folding the shirt up, you shoved it into your bag, hoping you'd remember to wash it with your laundry. When you caught a glimpse of your bare torso in the mirror, you froze. 

Memories of last night came flooding back as you stared at the red marks scattered across your body. An unsteady line of hickeys connected one hip bone to the other,  a few were splayed up across your stomach and in a cluster across your chest. There was even one framed by a perfect bite mark on the top of your shoulder. 

“God damn…” You muttered, turning in the mirror in search of more. While you didn’t find any more hickeys sucked into your skin, you did find thin bruises on the sides of both your thighs from his fingers digging into your flesh. 

You stepped closer to the mirror, ghosting your fingertips over the marks. You couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of his hands on you. You could still feel him against you, his lips, his tongue, his teeth. You gripped the edge of the sink, willing the thoughts away. It was a hookup with a stranger who’s name wasn’t even known to you. It wasn’t going to happen again. 

Despite that fact, you thought of him in the shower until the water ran cold.

-----

Lest was awake when you made it back to your room. In the time it took you to shower she had managed to get dressed, make both herself and you coffee and frozen breakfast sandwiches, clean up your side of the room, and get the first season of Love Island up on your TV. She was stirring creamer into her coffee when you came in.

“Goodmorning,” You said, locking your door behind you, “How long have you been up?”

“Like, 45 minutes,” She said, setting the creamer to the side for you, “Were you in the shower that whole time?”

“Er, yeah, sorry. I wanted to shave,” You lied, a little surprised at how long you had actually been gone. You hoped Lest wouldn’t notice that you definitely had not shaved.

You dressed quickly. You and Lest had never been shy about changing in front of each other, but right now you had yourself angled awkwardly against your closet, praying to god she didn’t catch a glimpse of the love bites you were sporting. Luckily you managed to pull on a tshirt and sweats without her noticing. It’s not like you needed to hide from her, you usually told her everything as soon as it happened, but this time you wanted to keep it to yourself. At least for a little bit. You knew she’d have something, probably valid, to say about the complete unknown of the man you had sex with. She’d scold you on how dangerous it was and drag you to the health center to get tested for an STD.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked as you made up your coffee.

“A little like I was hit by a truck,” You shrugged, putting the cream away in your tiny fridge, “But I’ve definitely felt worse. You?”

“Better than I thought I would,” Lest told you, starting the show, “I didn’t drink much towards the end, and I didn’t smoke at all so I guess it makes sense.”

“You’re lucky,” You joked, climbing into bed with your coffee and breakfast, “We’re still doing nothing today right?”

“Oh, for sure.” Lest said nodding with wide eyes, “This is probably the last weekend we’ll be able to actually push homework off. Everything can wait until tomorrow.”

“Works for me,” You nodded, sipping your coffee and tuning into the trashy reality show you and Lest were hooked on.

You realized pretty quickly that all the gorgeous men and women and unhealthy relationships in the world wouldn’t distract you enough. You had figured post your incredibly long shower you’d be free of Pretty Boy, that the memory of him would ebb away. No luck.

By the time Micheal had been cast out of the Villa, you had managed to replay last night's events a hundred times in your head. It wasn’t just the sex that you were hyper focused on, it was every second you were near him. You kept thinking about how he looked in the kitchen, the way the lights moved over his skin and hair. The fact that even in the dark his eyes were still so bright and warm. You could hear  the lilt of his accent in your head, all the words he said to you, all the things he called you. 

What really stuck with you was how soft it all had been. How gentle and kind he had been with you. The way his voice sounded when he asked if you were leaving. How much you wished you had said no. This was going to haunt you for at least a week, you knew it would. You were preparing for it to be a very hard and very unfocused week.

Lest called you out a few times during the lazy afternoon, questioning your mental absence from the shared room. You brushed her off with excuses of exhaustion and nausea. You could tell she was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. Eventually, not many hours after waking up, you let yourself fall asleep to the thought of his lips on yours.

-------

On Sunday you woke up well before the sun, thanks to your early bedtime. You stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself back to sleep, but as your room slowly turned from pitch black into grey tones you knew it wasn’t going to happen. Quietly you pulled yourself out of bed and got ready for the day. It was barely even six by the time you were finished getting ready, but you were restless. Scribbling a note for Lest, you left your dorm. 

There was a time when you’d go on a walk before the sun was fully up every morning. It was when you enjoyed campus the most. The cold and quiet of it was comforting, it felt like home. Almost completely deserted at this hour. The only souls you ever saw this early were the landscapers, perfecting the small campus before the day began, and the occasional early rising professor walking a beloved campus dog. On a Sunday, though, it was truly empty. 

You wandered without really knowing where you were going, you let your feet remember the familiar path they once took so frequently. The sun barely peeked over the line of trees and brick buildings, casting long shadows over the quad. Dew grayed the grass, evaporating where the sun touched it. Eventually you reached the flower garden nestled between the two original buildings of the campus. You settled on a cold stone bench, the dedication plaque so worn it was nearly unreadable. 

You looked around the garden. The variety of flowers were in full bloom as the summer came to a close, each one tended to with great care. It was a sacred place on campus, for everyone. It was where most students had been introduced to the school, the garden being the meeting spot for all campus tours. During both matriculation and graduation, students paraded through it. The flowers were both a beautiful welcome and a bittersweet goodbye to those who chose Piltover for their education. It was impossible not to love it.

You sighed and picked at a patch of lichen on the edge of the bench. Remembering what else you used to do on these early walks, another habit you regretfully fell out of. You dragged your knees up to your chest and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket. Your fingers were on autopilot as they navigated to your contacts.

It rang only once.

“Good morning Buddy,” Your dad’s voice was warming even through the phone.

“Good morning,” You said, leaning your cheek against your knee, “How are you?”

“I’m good, just getting ready to head out on the boat,” You could hear him shuffling around as he spoke. You could picture him, preparing for the day in the kitchen, “How are you? You’re up pretty early.”

“Working on a Sunday? That’s unlike you,” You joked, it was actually very like him, “I fell asleep early last night, couldn't go back to bed.”

“No, actually, not working today,” You heard the front door of your house open and close, “I’m headed out with the guys. The weathers going to be good for some deep fishing, today.”

“Oh good, that’ll be nice. I hope the catch is good,” You were glad he was taking time for himself, “Send me pictures if you get anything cool.”

“Of course buddy,” He laughed, you heard his truck start up, “Wait, so you went to bed early on a Saturday night? When did you become so boring?”

You scoffed, “Excuse me, are you mad that I am a responsible adult?”

“That’s not what I said!” He assured you.

“Yeah sure,” You rolled your eyes but smiled anyways, “Besides, it was friday night that I was out until three in the morning, rest assured I am certainly not boring.”

“Hm, okay,” He was quiet for a moment, “You’re making good decisions, I hope? Staying safe.”

You groaned at the implications of his words, embarrassed that they weren't actually that far off. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“Yes Dad, I am making perfectly fine decisions,” You half lied to him.

“Good to know. I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

“Ew,” You fake gagged, “Don’t say stuff like that.”

He laughed on the other end. It had been a week and a half since you saw him last, but you already missed the sound of him laughing, “How was your first week of classes?”

“Good,” You told him, “So far at least. I mean, it's the first week and I already have a good amount of homework to do, which sucks, but I think I can handle it.”

“Yeah, you’ve got this, though,” He assured you, never not confident in your abilities, “You always do. What classes are you taking again?”

“I have two envi-sci classes right now, one with a lab, a chemistry class with a lab, and I’m taking an Asian American Lit class, to keep myself from going crazy in the science building.” You told him, thinking about your particularly heavy science schedule, “I’m trying to switch chemistry classes, though. There's a smaller class with a…better professor. Not that my current professor is bad, it’s just that Heimerdinger is, like, the best professor here. I’d like to take at least one class with him. I’m on the waiting list.”

“Sounds like a good schedule. I’m glad you're taking a non-science class, it’ll be good for your brain,” He told you, “And I’ll cross my fingers you get into that class you want.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You laughed, at this point you didn’t have much hope for getting in, but you could always try next semester.

“Hey, has your mom talked to you?” The question made you groan. 

“No, why?” You didn’t particularly want to talk to her, not since her 2nd remarriage last summer. 

“She called the other day and asked if she could have you for Christmas this year?” He was treading carefully, “I think you should.”

‘What? No way,” You answered immediately, offended at the idea that you would want to do that, “First of all, I’m not 15 anymore, neither of you get to have me, I can decide where I want to go for breaks. And second, Why would I want to spend break in Arizona with her child groom and his infant children?”

He was, clearly, not a child groom. Paul was 35, but in comparison to your mother’s age- 45- he might as well be a teenager. His kids weren’t infants either, 9 & 14, but, again, they might as well have been. 

“Hey, I know, I trust you to make your own decisions, but I also know that you’ve developed a lot of anger recently with your mom,” He sighed, “I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with her your whole life, it’s not healthy.”

“Really milking those two years of psychology undergrad, huh,” You joked bitterly. Your dad would have been the best therapist in the world if he had finished school. Your surprise arrival put an end to that half dream instantly. He never resented you for it. 

“I’m serious, buddy,” His voice was calm, urging you to be open, “It wouldn’t have to be for the whole break, just a couple days around Christmas. If you want to spend the rest of the time here with me you can, obviously. Just think about it?”

“Fine…I’ll think about it,” You pouted, he could convince you of anything, “But no promises.”

“Thank you, sorry for springing this on you right now.” You could hear chatter somewhere behind him, he was probably at the docks by now.

“It’s okay, sorry for being a brat about it,” You laughed softly.

“You’d be nothing without your attitude,” He teased, in the background you could hear someone calling his name.

“I get it from you,” That wasn’t entirely true, you and him both knew it, “But hey, I’ll let you go, sounds like you’re needed.”

“Yeah, the guys just showed up,” He admitted, “I can tell them to wait for a bit though if you want to keep talking?”

“Nah, it’s okay,” You insisted, checking the time, “I should probably go, anyways. Me and Lest are gonna go work on homework in a bit.”

“Okay, no problem,” He told you, you wished you could talk to him all day, you wished you were going fishing with him, “I’m proud of you, buddy, and I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Dad,” You said, trying to hold back tears, “Have fun out there, be safe.”

“Always am. Tell Lest I say hello for me, Love you.” He let you hang up the phone. 

You wrapped your arms around your legs and buried your head in your knees, unable to hold back the sobs. You let yourself cry. You didn’t think this was how you’d start your morning, but it was fine. Almost cathartic in a way, to let yourself be sad about something as childish as missing your dad who was only a day. You knew it was fine and very normal, but it still felt immature. Regardless, you let yourself cry until Lest finally texted you.

-------

The rest of the day was just as unexpected. When you headed back to your dorm Lest had just started to get ready. You laid in your bed, scrolling through your phone until she was ready. In the hour or so it took her to shower, get dressed, and gather her school work, the weather took a drastic change. You had wanted to lay out on the quad and do work, but the soft sunny sky was full of clouds now, all threatening rain. Instead, you and Lest headed to the small coffee shop on campus. Here it was much harder to focus. You camped out at a table in the corner, despite this everyone who knew you or her came over to chat. Meaning the amount of work you finished was…disappointing, to say the least. 

Then, due to the cafe's short Sunday hours, you had to relocate once again. At the overly polite requests of the baristas, you packed up and hauled off to the library. You wished you had come here in the first place. It was pretty much vacant this time of day and you and Lest set up in the quiet section, assuring no one would bother you even if they wanted to. Workflow was steady now, you managed to knock out one assignment after another. In the quiet of the library you were even able to focus on your textbook readings enough to take notes. 

As the afternoon began to turn to evening and the library began to fill up, you were finally in the home stretch. Lest was on her last set of practice questions for her math class and you had one more reading and a chemistry practice test to do. You’d probably be back to your room within the hour. You opened up the practice test, determined to get everything done. 

It was harder than you had expected. Some of the questions were fairly basic, things you knew from level one and even highschool chemistry, and there were a few that took a little effort but were fresh in your head from last semester. Almost half the questions, though, were questions that were completely foreign to you. You could make out bits and pieces of it in your brain. Some questions gently touched by your previous professors and others that you could make shaky assumptions on. You tried to remind yourself that this was a practice test for a reason, but the shitty score you knew would show at the end still bothered you. In the end you got 65%. 

You opened up your email to check for submission confirmation before moving on to the reading. A recent message at the top of the box made you pause. You read it quickly once, twice, three times. 

“I’m off the waitlist,” You told Lest, flinching when someone at a nearby table shushed you.

“What?” She whispered, leaning closer to see your laptop.

“I’m off the waitlist for chem,” You whispered back, opening up the class portal and accepting the offer.

“I thought you were in a chem class already?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, but I got into the class with the professor I actually want,” You explained, wishing you could be more excited than the setting allowed. 

“Oh, that's…good,” You could tell she didn’t quite get it, but wanted to be happy for you anyways.

“Yes, it’s very good,” You laughed, pushing your chair away from the table, “and as a reward, I’m gonna go piss.”

“Babe, please don’t give yourself a UTI because you only pee after academic success,” Lest jokingly begged, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh as you walked away from the table, ignoring the dirty looks from other tables. You were thrilled, a class with Heimerdinger genuinely opened up a world of connections. He knew scientists in every field all over the world. Of course, as the dean of the science department, he was willing to help any student make connections, but it was definitely easier if you were in his class. You were so happy about this, you didn’t mind that the practice test you just spent an hour on was for a class you were about to drop. 

You pulled out your phone, shooting off a text to your dad.

Got into the class I wanted! Thx 4 crossing ur fingers

He responded immediately.

Yay… that’s great, happy for you… wanna see the catch today?

You shook your head at the ellipses habit he refused to break. Such an old man.

TY!!! Yes obvi. Fish Now. 

He sent back a photo of himself and one of the older guys he fished with holding an impressively sized mahi mahi.

Omg mahi this late in the szn is craaazzyyy, very jealous

You couldn’t help the pang of sadness that bloomed in your chest. Missing your dad intensely for the second time that day.

Yeah, me and the guys were surprised for sure…I got go, talk to you later?

Oki!

Love you Buddy

Love u toooo

You slammed into someone in your distraction as you hit send. The apology coming out of your mouth only made it halfway, your mind and body freezing up at the flash of chestnut hair and pale skin above you. 

“Woah, watch it.” The guy, who you realized a second later was not in fact Pretty Boy, snapped at you.

“Sorry,” Your voice came out like a squeak, you cleared your throat, speaking louder, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s…uh it’s fine,” Not Pretty Boy said, looking down at you oddly, “Are you okay?”

You realized you were staring at him, studying all the ways in which he wasn’t Pretty Boy. Too stocky, face too round, hair too long, eyes a dull green. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine, sorry,” You shook your head, stepping past him as you apologized again.

You hurried off to the restroom, face burning as you locked yourself into a stall. You had managed to keep him out of your head all day. You dressed without looking at the marks he left behind, you kept your mind busy with work and thoughts of your family situation, you barely even acknowledged the fact that you had a body. 

And now after all that work, here you were, unable to think about anything besides him. You groaned and thumped your head against the stall door, knowing he’d be inescapable for the rest of the night. 

You stared at your hand on your leg, fingers digging into the bruises under your jeans. You had set your book down for the hundredth time, barely halfway through the reading, distracted again.  Every time you tried to read the words on the page, you wouldn’t get far. Unable to process any of the information you were looking at. It all felt like a different language. You could feel his hands pressing into your legs, his lips on your neck, accent in your ears.

Something hitting your forehead made you jump, startling you out of the daydream.

“Earth to struggling student,” Lest whispered, crumpling another sticky note and launching it at you.

You swatted the yellow paper away, frowning at her, “What?”

“Girl, where have you been this weekend?” Lest hissed, leaning across the table, eyebrows furrowed, “You’ve been weird ever since Jayce’s party. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You shrugged.

“Okay, liar,” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes, “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” You insisted, rifling the pages of your book. 

She stared at you, blink her big eyes expectantly. At this point, she wasn’t going to give up.

“I hooked up with someone at the party” You muttered, not looking at her.

“What?” She gasped, ignoring the looks from other tables. She stood and took the seat next to you, pulling her chair close and leaning in, “When?”

“When I went to wash my top in the garage,” You told her, chewing on your lip, “I wasn’t exactly smoking alone,”

“Oh my god!” She squeaked, eyes wide, “You fucked someone in Jayce and Cait’s garage??”

“Shhh,” You placed a palm over her mouth, worried about wandering ears, “Be quiet, I don’t need the whole student body to know.”

She just blinked at you over the top of your hand, waiting.

“Yeah, in the garage,” You could feel your face getting hot.

“Did you guys… like, get a home run? Or only make it to 3rd base?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What are you? 12?” You scoffed, glancing sideways as you told her, “...home run.”

“Good girl!” She punched you lightly on the arm, “Wait, that’s why you’ve been so spacy? You’ve been thinking about your little garage escapade all weekend?”

“Lest, you don't get it,” You insisted, “It was, like, amazing. Quite possibly the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. Like, honeymoon waited until marriage but somehow still perfect at it kind of sex.”

“No way,”

“Yes way, bitch,” You said, raising your eyebrows at her, “yes fucking way.”

“Damn…” She stared down at the table, then quirked her head to the side, “Who?”

There it was, the reason you hadn’t told her as soon as it happened.

“Um, well…” You hesitated. Lest narrowed her eyes at you, you could see her mind scrolling the list of possibilities. You cringed, “I don’t exactly know.”

Lest gaped at you, “What?”

“We were both high,” You admitted sheepishly, “And kind of caught up with other things. Names didn’t come up.”

“Are you crazy?”

“He was nice!” You defended, “Like, so fucking nice.”

“That is so dangerous!” She scolded, more concerned than mad, “Did you use a condom?”

“Christ, Lest, of course,” You rolled your eyes, “I’m not dumb.”

“I know, but you said you were high,” She shrugged, “Just wanted to make sure I didn’t need to find a way to squeeze a crib into our dorm.” 

“Twenties pregnancy is no joke,” You told Lest, trying to hold your face straight as long as you could before the corners of your mouth cracked upwards. 

“Damn, so great sex guy is anonymous,” She sighed, “That’s kind of a bummer. He goes here right?”

“He said he did,” You told her, “That’d be an odd thing to lie about, right?”

“Yeah, well, maybe you’ll see him at another party?” She said, hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” You sighed, “I don’t know, it was so good I almost don’t want to do it again.”

“That makes zero sense,” she scrunched her nose.

“I mean, I fucked this guy once for, like, an hour.” You explained, “And he is all I’ve been able to think about for the past two days. Do I really want to do this again?”

“Well, if you make it a habit,” She offered.

“I don’t know,” You sighed, shaking your head, “It sucks, but I think it’s better if it doesn't happen again. I don’t think my grades could handle it.” You waved the book you had tried and failed to read for the past hour. 

“Skill issue.” She shrugged, shutting her laptop, “Do you have to finish that reading tonight? I wanna get dinner.”

“Uh, thanks Lest, very cool,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her joke, “And I’m not going to be able to anyways. I’ll finish it before class tomorrow.”

“Okay good,” Lest said, standing and stretching her arms over her head, “I’ll get us Thai if you promise details.”

“Hm, you know, I’m not against trading my secrets for pad thai and mango rice,” You laughed, packing your stuff up.

Clasping her hands together she determined, “This is, like, better than Love Island.” 

You just scoffed, shaking your head at her.

-------

As thrilled as you were to be taking Heimerdinger's class, there was one tiny drawback. It was your first and only seven am. You had managed four whole semesters of not having to be in a class until at least nine. That was very much on purpose, because dragging yourself out of bed at five in the morning was not your idea of a good start to the day. 

As much as you wanted to skip past your first alarm and show up to class unshowered and in sweatpants, you figured that wasn’t the most professional first impression to make on the dean. So you got up like a good student. You took your time getting ready and double checking that you had everything you’d need for your two classes of the day, preferring to not haul back to the dorm between them. You had correctly calculated enough time to stop at the cafe on the way to grab coffee with a higher caffeine content than what you could make in your room. 

There were quite a few seven am classes available, but given that you were over 30 minutes early, the halls of the science building were still fairly deserted. A few offices were lit up and some classrooms had TAs setting up for the day, but not much student presence yet. When you found the room the schedule had directed you to, you were pleased to see it was empty. It’d be easier to talk to who you considered the most intimidating professor on campus without an audience.

The classroom was small, but you knew the lab attached through a door at the back would be much bigger. Professor Heimerdinger was sitting behind the desk at the front, fidgeting with the desktop computer. You knocked on the doorframe to get his attention.

“Good morning Professor Heimerdinger,” You greeted, stepping partially into the room as you told him your name, “I was on the waitlist until last night, I wasn’t sure if they told you I had moved off of it.”

“Oh! Good morning, dear,” He beamed from under his impressively large mustache, moving away from the computer, “Yes, it was mentioned that there may be a change in the roster. I’m glad you were able to move up from the waitlist. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, you had never been in the same room as the esteemed man, only ever seen him give speeches or in passing around campus, you walked over to his desk, “I’m also glad to be here, I’ve been looking forward to taking one of your classes. I’ve heard great things.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” He walked around his desk and extended a hand up towards you. Due to his short stature you had to bend just slightly at the waist to return the gesture, “I’m glad to have you in class, your name is familiar. Are you acquaintances with Mr. Jayce Talis, by chance?”

You knew Jayce had been lucky enough to score Heimerdinger as his advisor and close mentor, you were surprised he had mentioned you, though.

“Yes, actually, Jayce is a very close friend of mine,” You told him, trying to hide a nervous laugh, “Has he been speaking of me?”

“Only good things, my dear,” He said, picking up on your anxiety, “I assure you.”

“Good to know,” You laugh, hoping it wasn’t too loud in the small space, “Thank you, again, I am really grateful for the opportunity to be in your class.”

“Well of course,” He told you, moving back around his desk as he spoke, “Have you been able to acquire the reading materials for the class?”

“I ordered the textbook last night,” You explained, “I should have it by the end of the week. I’m sure I can borrow a copy from a classmate for the time being.”

“No need, I have an extra copy you are welcome to use until yours arrives,” He pulled a dense book from under his desk, “It’s an earlier edition, though, so just be sure that you read the correct sections.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” You took the worn book, he also handed you a printed syllabus, “Was there reading for today? I could try to get some of it done before class starts.”

“Last week’s schedule became a little jumbled due to my being under the weather, so the first reading is due next class, if you would like to review the syllabus and schedule before class, you will be all caught up,” He explained. You couldn’t describe the relief this gave you, “We only met for one class last week, so you aren’t behind, but the class has already been divided into groups for the semester. I apologize that you were not here for the grouping. I allow students to choose who they work with, so if you see someone you know feel free to join their group.”

“Okay, thank you.” You nodded and turned to find a seat.

As Heimerdinger returned back to his computer, you set up in the corner of the room. The syllabus was fairly basic, but gave a good explanation of the Professor’s expectations. You were sure this wasn’t going to be an easy class, but you were also sure you’d enjoy the challenge. The only thing that was making you anxious was the fact that  none of the students that showed up were familiar to you. You watched as the clock ticked closer and closer to seven, your knee bouncing under the table. You tried to distract yourself by skimming through the borrowed textbook, settling on a random section to pass the time with.

You were halfway through the chapter about asymmetric oxidation and reduction when a newer copy of the book was dropped on the table in front of you with a bang. You jumped, looking up in surprise.

“Hey stranger,” Jinx smirked down at you, nodding at your book,“Pretty impressive reading pace you’ve got there.”

“Jinx!” You stood, wrapping your arms around her, “I didn’t know you were in this class.”

“Ekko is too, he’ll be here in a minute,” She told you as you settled into your seats, the room was busy now, “Were you on the waitlist?”

“Yeah, this class was a bitch to get into,” You frowned, then realized something, “Wait, how did you get in? You’re a sophomore this year right? This is an upperclassmen class.”

She laughed sheepishly, shrugging, “Ha, well you know, nepotism isn't always bad.”

“No way, Silco got you in? You lucky bitch,” You gasped, but were not surprised that her dad, who happened to be a well respected professor in the business program, had managed to get her into a higher level class. 

“Yeah, and Ekko,” She pulled the rest of her things from her bag, blowing a strand of freshly dyed blue hair out of her face, “You should have told me, I could have gotten you in, too.”

“Sorry, friend nepotism didn’t cross my mind,” You laughed, waving at Ekko as he walked into the room, “I’ll keep it in mind for next time, though.”

“Always got your back, babe,” Jinx gave an over exaggerated smile, all teeth.

Ekko slid into the seat next to Jinx, setting a coffee cup down in front of her, “Hey, where were you last week?” He laughed, extended a fist out for you to bump.

“Still on the waitlist,” You laughed, pulling out your things as other students began to settle into their seats.

“Glad you're here,” He told you, “You wanna be part of our group right?”

“Yes please,” You said with exaggerated begging,“I was worried I’d have to join people I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason I drag him into every class I take,” Jinx laughed, jerking her thumb over to Ekko.

“Yeah, I’m sure the fact that I always give you my notes has nothing to do with it,” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She stuck her nose up in the air, giving him a side eye.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at them, their large personalities combined to make one big ball of loud and colorful and smart. You had spent a lot of your free time during your summer research with them. Jinx had convinced you to join their little band and you three terrorized the others with very loud and not so great music playing. You were excited to be in class with them. Looking around, though, you noticed that all the other groups consisted of at least three people, some of them even holding five. 

“Are you guys a group of two?” You tilted your head, it would be odd for the Professor to let them do that in a class that seemed to be very group focused.

“What? Oh, no there’s three of us,” Ekko told you, “I don’t know if you’ve met him yet. It’s Jayce’s new roommate, Viktor. I don’t know why he isn’t here yet.”

You laughed, part of you still wondering if this was some insane joke that everyone was really really dedicated to, “Haven't met him, yet, but I’ve heard of him plenty of times.”

“Wasn’t he at the party on Friday?” Jinx asked, “He said Jayce had convinced him to go.”

“Jayce kept saying he was there, but I never ran into him,” You shrugged, “I’m still not convinced he’s real.”

“Yeah, you got us,” Jinx said, dead serious, “He isn’t real.”

“Wait what?” You side eyed her.

“Also we wrote gullible on the ceiling,” She rolled her eyes, you resisted the urge to look up, “Viktor is very real, I promise. He’s super smart too, like, almost as smart as me.”

“Always humble, babe,” Ekko said, patting Jinx on the arm, “Always humble.”

Class began then, Heimerdinger calling everyone's attention to the front of the room. You settled into the flow of it pretty quickly. You weren’t surprised that he managed to be an engaging professor. You’d sat through plenty of his speeches and presentations over the past two years, and never for a second did you find yourself bored during them. He gave a quick overview of what the next couple of weeks were going to look like and then passed around paper practice tests. You were a little disappointed to have to do another one.

This test ended up being somewhat easier than the one you had taken last night, only a few of the questions really escaped you. You could tell this was a test meant to gauge how much the class knew as opposed to how much they didn’t. You had just flipped to the last page when the door to the classroom opened. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes down and not contribute to the awkward stares you were sure everyone was already giving, instinct kicked in and you couldn't help but to glance up.

You froze.

There was no way.

This was not happening. 

You blinked a few times, mouth hanging open as you watched Pretty Boy lean over Heimerdinger's desk, speaking too quiet for you to hear with an apology written all over his face. Your heart dropped all the way down to the center of the earth, your lungs dried out and you felt like your head was under waves.

When Pretty Boy turned around, his perfect amber eyes immediately landed on yours. Freezing, his eyes widened slightly in an expression you were sure was identical to yours. Poorly hidden horror. You looked away, eyes dropping to your paper, the grip around your pencil was tight enough to turn your knuckles white. You could hear him walking straight for your table, cane tapping along with his footsteps.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the table. Why was he coming this way? There were plenty of other seats. Was now the time to confront you? In the quietest classroom imaginable. He slid into the seat next to you.

“Hey Viktor,” Jinx whispered, glancing up before going back to her test.

Viktor. He was Viktor. Pretty Boy was the roommate you were convinced didn’t exist. The one you had just told Jinx you had never met. The reality that you had, in fact, met him very intimately was crashing down around you. You raced back through your memory, all the little dots that you should have connected immediately snapped together. The music he was listening to, the smoking, that he was even in the garage in the first place, the reason you hadn’t recognized him despite being in your year, the fact that you never saw him leave the house. 

He fucking lived there. He was Jayce’s roommate. You had fucked Jayce’s roommate. 

You could feel his eyes on the side of your face as these thoughts ran through your head. You looked up at him, his closeness making you dizzy, but not in a pleasant way like last time. His face was nearly blank, only the slightest pull to his eyebrows that didn’t  give away any of his thoughts. You had never felt the desire to know what someone else was thinking, not really, not until this very moment. 

Not knowing what to do, you let out a shaky breath and went back to your paper. The room was too quiet to speak to him, you could do nothing but endure the remaining time it took for everyone to finish their tests and hope you didn’t faint.

You were keenly aware of his presence next to you. Everything was taken up by Pretty Boy. By Viktor. You could feel the heat of his leg close to yours, you could smell the cologne he was wearing. The scratching of his pen as he started the test was the only sound you could hear. You felt like you were going crazy. At this moment you were sure you could have been committed to a state hospital. The words on the page blurred in front of you. You scribbled out incorrect equations a dozen times before Hiemerdinger finally concluded that everyone was done. 

“I will review these and adjust our scheduled content accordingly,” He told the class as the tests were passed forward, “As an unplanned reward for enduring my data collection, please talk amongst yourselves while I battle with technology. I will begin today’s lesson as soon as possible.”

“Nice,” Jinx said to herself as chatter started up in the classroom, she turned to Pret- to Viktor, “Dude, where were you?”

“Sorry, I was stuck behind a school bus,” He told her, his accent was less thick than you remember, “it wasn’t a problem last week, I wasn’t prepared.”

“Oh, yeah, school just started this week for little kids,” She nodded, she was lost in thought for a moment, no doubt thinking about picking up Isha from school later. She snapped back to the present and told him your name, “She’s part of the larger group, I’m surprised you haven't met yet.”

His eyes met yours and when he said your name, you could have melted all the way to the ground floor, “It’s nice to meet you, are you…joining our group?”

It took you a moment to realize he was holding a hand out to you. You shook it, trying to be as firm as you could, but you knew your hands were shaking. 

“Nice to meet you, too, ” You said, “Um, I can find another group if you-”

“No,” He said, too quickly, “No, that’s not necessary, I’m glad to have you work with us.”

You did your best not to read into that, “Glad to be here.”

“Heimerdinger wanted us to schedule an out of class work time,” Ekko told you, drawing your attention away from Viktor’s face, “We were thinking Friday’s right after class, since we won’t have lab.”

“That works for me,” You nodded, trying to settle into your chair and be casual.

“Cool, I’ll send a calendar invite,” He said, always the proactive one.

“You are friends with Jayce?” Viktor asked, tilting his head at you.

“Yep,” You nodded awkwardly, unsure how to talk to him, “Since freshman year,”

“Hm, interesting.” He mused. 

You hated this. It was so uncomfortable and not at all like the last time you had spoken to him. Even aside from the fact that you weren’t fucking, the few words said were clunky and awkward. You were realizing that the drugs and alcohol you had consumed might have had something to do with the ease of conversation. It made you sad. You knew this was stupid. You knew you were being childish. You were an adult, sex shouldn’t be the cause of this unbearable awkwardness. You should be able to talk to someone you hooked up with, without being on the verge of a panic attack. Luckily, Heimerdinger’s technical difficulties came to an end. He drew back everyone's attention and put a halt to your terrible conversation. You turned away from Viktor, facing the front as the intro to advanced ochem lecture began. 

The rest of class, thankfully, went smoother than you expected. Your group fell into a good rhythm, working together between bouts of notes to work on practice problems. Viktor was less tense, which let you relax a degree. He was more than willing to help you navigate your textbook, looking over your shoulder to check that you were on the right section. He even helped you find the reading for next class, tearing a piece of paper from his notebook and placing it in the pages. There wasn’t a lab planned for the day, so Heimerdinger continued his lecture well into the scheduled lab time. By the end of the four hours, you had written down almost ten pages of notes. Your hands ached.

“Apologies for the lecture heavy class, everyone. Having to cancel our first class last week meant I needed to catch everyone up” Heimerdinger said as he closed out the presentation, “I promise from here on we will utilize the last two hours as lab time. Have a good rest of your day everyone, I will see you on Wednesday.”

You scooped your things into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “I’ve gotta get to another class, see ya around.”

You darted out of the door before anyone could reply. Your head was filled with too many thoughts. You took the stairs down, doing your best to organize the mess in your brain. You created a list. First, the things you needed to do, right now. Finish the reading for Asian American Lit, number one. Number two, go to your Asian American Lit class. Then, the things that could wait until after. Telling Lest about Viktor/Pretty Boy dilemma. Though, she would be mad that you didn’t call her at that very moment. Asking Jinx to add you to the group chat, meaning you'd have his number. Yeah, that you could wait on. Then the things you decided could wait forever. Number one, talking to Viktor. It’s all you wanted to do. And at the same time you’d rather spontaneously combust than confront that awkward conversation. 

You were free of the overpowering AC of the science building for less than a minute before the task you decided never needed to happen, happened. Against your will, of course.

“Wait up!” Your steps faltered for a second at the sound of Viktor’s voice calling after you. You ignored him, continuing as if you hadn’t heard. He shouted your name, “I know you can hear me!”

You stopped staring at the hot sidewalk for a moment. No. You had somewhere to be, things to do. You shook your head without turning around and kept walking.

“If you take one more step, you’re ableist!” He shouted, out of breath.

You froze and turned slowly to look at him, jaw hanging open, “That is not funny.”

“Got you to stop didn’t it,” He panted, closing the distance between you, he knocked his cane against the side of your calf, “And, I do believe running from a man with a cane can be considered ableist.”

“First of all, I am not running from you,” You lied, looking up at him. You stepped a half inch to the side, using his shadow to block your eyes from the sun, “And second, if I happened to be running from you, it certainly is not because you use a mobility aid.”

“Okay Miss PC,” He rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t matter why, if I deem it ableist, it is.”

You opened your mouth to argue, floundering for what to say. You don’t remember him being this infuriating at the party.

“Exactly,” He said as you snapped your jaw closed.

“Viktor,” You sighed, “What do you want?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head at you. He gave a soft laugh, “I have been waiting all weekend to hear you say my name.”

Breathing would have been easier if he punched you. You blinked up at him, watching him watch you.

“I’m sorry, can I…” He looked around, noticing that other students were leaving the building as their classes ended. You two were standing in the dead center of the sidewalk and in the late summer heat his pale cheeks were already turning pink, “Can we just talk for a second, please?”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he stepped off the main path and began walking into the flower garden. The dry gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked, the sound amplified in your brain as you followed after him. He settled under a latticed arch, the honeysuckle vines that snaked around it shading you both from the midday sun. 

“I’m sorry,” You said, frowning at him.

“For what?” He asked, face confused.

For running away. For not asking your name. For leaving. For joining your class.

“I don’t know.” Was all you could manage.

“You know, apologies lose a lot of their value if you don’t know what you're apologizing for,” He narrowed his eyes, voice almost scolding.

“I..I know, I’m sorry.”

“You say sorry too much,” He laughed, shaking his head, he didn’t look upset, “It’s very American of you.”

“Well, I am American,” You pointed out, letting yourself laugh softly with him, “I’m sorry for that too,” You joked.

“Well, let me apologize?” He asked, “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in class, it truly was not my intention.”

That was an apology. A real and true apology.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” You shook your head, “Fuck, if anyone had a right to feel weird, it was you.”

He tilted his head in question.

“I mean, it was your class first,” You told him, “I just kinda…showed up.”

“Did you join the class because I was in it?” 

“Well, no,” You laughed softly, “How could I have, I didn't even know your name.”

“That’s true,” He scoffed, “I regret that, by the way, I should have asked your name. Not very polite to ask after having sex with someone.”

“Eh, it happens to the best of us,” You shrugged, liking the laugh he gave you in response.

“Well, I am glad I know now,” He told you, eyes moving across his face, he smirked, “It’s a pretty name.”

“Hm, thanks, I like yours quite a lot as well,” You smiled up at him, the step closer he took didn’t go unnoticed, “It suits you, almost as much as Pretty Boy.”

“Thank you,” He smiled down at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“What?” You could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

“Can I take you out?” He asked, taking a nervous breath, “I know we kinda did this in a backwards manner, but I…you are very interesting to me, I would like to take you out properly.”

Your stomach twisted. Your chest felt like it was caving in.

“No,” You said, head shaking slightly as you offered a sad smile. The unexpected hurt that flashed in his eyes killed you.

“Oh, um,” He stumbled over his words, clearly taken aback by your refusal, he tried to step away, “Okay.”

“Hey wait,” You reached out, grabbing his wrist before you could escape, “Listen, it’s not you.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, begging you not to embarrass him any further with a cliche line.

“Really, I swear,” You urged, not letting go until he stepped back towards you, “I just… I don’t date classmates. I don’t sleep with classmates. Even if I want to. It causes problems, it makes class awkward, and I can’t risk my GPA just because I find someone attractive.”

He hummed to himself, nodding as he took in your words.

“So…” He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the same way he did when you were straddling his lap, “You’re saying you find me attractive?”

You resisted the urge to lean into his palm, instead you grabbed his wrist and pulled his lingering hand away from your face, “Don’t do that.”

“I’m confused, you’ve already slept with me? So what does it matter?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was so fucking handsome you wanted to scream.

“Because, at the time, we weren’t classmates.” You explained like it was obvious.

“Okay, so let me get this straight, you will be in a relationship - sexual or romantic - with someone as long as they aren't an active classmate?” He asked, lip curling up in confusion, “But if they were a past classmate, or in our case, a future classmate, it's fine?”

“Exactly,” You shrugged, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“That’s actually very unreasonable.” He told you, “And also does not make much sense to me.”

“Well, good thing it’s a rule for myself.” You huffed, “You don’t have to understand, you just have to respect it.”

“So, if we were in separate classes, would you go out with me?” He asked.

“Probably, yes.” You admitted.

“But not now, because we are in the same class.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So, if I ask you when the class is over, you’d say yes?” He leaned towards you, probing.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, “Who’s to say you won’t hate me by the end of the semester?”

“Well, considering you seem to be friends with the only people I know at this school, that would be rather unfortunate.” His voice lowered at the end, he was closer to you know. Very much within kissing distance. Right now there was nothing more you wanted than to feel his lips against yours. You know they’d be cool in comparison to the stagnant summer air.

You didn’t. Instead, you took a step back, and shoved your hand out into the distance between you, “Friends and classmates? Can you do that?” You asked, he studied your hand like the offer was written on it, then sighed.

“Fine, I can respect your rules,” He took your hand in his, firm and strong and cold, “Friends and classmates…for now.”

He moved his index finger softly across the inside of your wrist as he held your hand, goosebumps sprinting up your arm. You carried that feeling with you for the rest of the day.