#noticed this on my first watch and i was like 'HUH

[rafeslvbug]

paediatrician!rafe finding out singlemom!reader has no support…

“alright then, i’ve given her her medication, we’ll wait a couple minutes and she should be good to go,” rafe murmurs, settling aurora into your arms again, watching with a smile as she sleepily looks up up at you, gummy grin and chubby fingers stretching out to you.

you let her close her fingers around your pinkie, her body still small as she’s only three weeks old prematurely, still not reaching how big she would have been at full term.

“thank you,” you tell him, voice a bit hoarse from having lost it to the past few nights of trying to shush her, and handling phone calls from the temporary hotel manager taking over from you, unsure on what to do and bothering you even more. tiredness had caught up to you, washing over you with each appointment and hour that passed.

concerned, his brows furrow at the sound of your voice, asking, “lost your voice?”. he takes a seat opposite you, resisting the urge to stretch a hand out, fingers tapping against his knee.

you nod, stroking back aurora’s hair and repositioning her head while you lightly laugh, “yeah, i’ve had to yell over her wails and try to get through to this temporary hire who’s taking over my job. they keep calling me thinking i’m just on sick leave or something.”

you hoped he would laugh. you hoped it would ease the pinch in his brows but it only deepened it. “you could get your husband to do it- or sorry- aurora’s father?” he corrects himself, not wanting to make an assumption.

lips pursed, you shake your head. “no husband. dad’s not in the picture, didn’t want a kid i’m sure,” you mutter bitterly.

“oh..that’s shitty, he’s an asshole..” realisation dawns on him, how you were alone during labour, alone when he came to see you the first time, alone when you came in crying about aurora’s restlessness. you’ve always been alone. “parents?” he asks, praying that you had that at least, but he felt the answer you were about to give gnawing at his chest.

offering him a soft smile, you shake your head, “no..they uhm, they really liked my ex. thought i should have got an abortion but i wanted kids so..is that selfish?” you don’t notice how his eyes darken, focusing on the guilty look that flashes across your face.

“no.” he grits out, shaking his head firmly. “don’t think for a second that you’re selfish, you’re not, and they’re all jerks for leavin’ you,” he continues, running his hand over his face.

letting out an appreciative hum, you keep on admiring aurora, noting every little feature and how special she is.

“see? how could that be selfish?” he murmurs, causing you to snap your head up with a confused look, letting out a little “huh”.

“you’re only thinkin’ about her, you care about her. that’s not selfish, you’re riskin’ a lot just to have this girl in your life,” he walks over, slowly taking her from your arms to check how her medicine is working.

he glances down at you, glittering blue eyes and a shared soft smile, before handing her back to you. “all good,” he mutters, before moving to his computer.

“just out of curiosity,” he calls out before you leave through the door. “what’s his name? your ex?” he raises his eyebrows, looking up from his computer.

you cock your head, stepping closer to him, “why?”

he grins and shakes his head, typing something down, “no reason.”

wary, and beginning to let a fatigued giggle escape your lips as you walk a bit closer, setting aurora’s carrier down with her in it and trying to get a glimpse of what’s he’s feverishly typing. “rafe what are you typing?”

“nothing! you can’t look at the doctor’s computer,” he laughs, hiding his screen as his hands come to your shoulders, softly spinning you around and handing aurora to you.

“rafe..” you warn over your shoulder and he only shrugs coyly, opening the door for you and giving you a little wave as you leave. not before calling after to you, “hey! remember though, you have me to help, if you need it.” you smile, mouthing another “thank you” to him before you’re leaving through the double doors, out the hospital.

when he returns to his computer he opens up the watch file he was creating, for a certain baby daddy who left his beautiful girlfriend and cute daughter - a man about to be banned from the premises.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616

[p1girlfriend]

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS... 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ OP81

– You meet in uni and instantly rub each other the wrong way. Not because he’s rude — he’s not — but because he’s smug. Always one point ahead. Always smirking when he sees your name on the grade sheet just below his.

– You sit across from each other in class. He always notices when your pen runs out and passes you a new one without looking. You always return it with something petty written on a sticky note wrapped around it, like: “Hope this helps you overthink less.”

– You correct each other’s grammar in Google Docs. Like… passive-aggressively. But you also never delete the other's edits. Hm. Weird.

– He lives to fluster you in class debates. One time, you got so worked up arguing about some obscure political theory that he leaned in and whispered, “You look real pretty when you’re mad, y’know.” You forgot your entire rebuttal.

– Everyone thinks you're hooking up already. You're not. But when someone says it out loud at a study group, Oscar just raises an eyebrow and says, “Yet.”

– When you finally study together (after too much tension), you both spend the first hour in sarcastic silence. But then you start helping each other. And somehow… that night, he walks you home. And you both just… smile.

– “Still think you’re smarter than me?” “No. But I think you’re more fun to argue with.”

– The first time it happens? It’s after a stupid late-night library session. He’s wearing a hoodie, sitting next to you, both of you pretending you're reading — until he says something snarky and you snap.

– “God, you’re such a cocky little—” “Finish that sentence,” he mutters, “and I swear I’ll make you say it again with my fingers inside you.”

– He loves watching your mind go blank under his touch. It’s revenge for all those times you humiliated him in class. “What happened to the girl with the smart mouth, huh?” he whispers, hand between your thighs. “Gone now?”

– You’ve definitely had sex in at least one academic setting: a study room, an empty classroom, maybe even his car right after an exam. That need to out-do each other turned into a craving to be closer. To win in a different way.

– “You gonna take notes on this too, pretty girl?” he teases, hips moving slow and deep. “Or should I make it a practical lesson?”

– After? He’s weirdly soft. Holding your waist, pressing kisses to your shoulders, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t think this means I’m letting you win next time.”

– “Oh yeah?” you whisper. “I’m top of the class and on top of you.”

He groans. You smirk.

Rivals forever. But lovers now too.

©p1girlfriend

[aliwritex]

BRAKE ih6

summary: isack’s girlfriend is ovulating and she wants to be fucked dumb. wc: 2.9k

warnings: all of them. throat fucking, public fingering, wet dream, possibly headspace, fem receiving oral, anal play, couple slaps if course, dirty talk, protected sex (what is that?) some french, i hope it’s right. domish isack

notes: it’s just their Monday after the spanish gp. pls ignore the fact that airplanes are disgusting. and pls don’t do what they did, you can probably catch something. he needs to stop doing so good or im gonna have to write every weekend. i actually need someone to tell me if the french is cringe!!!

It started with a comment. You woke up to a naked Isack by your side after an eventful night in Spain and at some point, in your lazy morning you might have mentioned that his soft cock was ‘cute’.

Now, Isack wasn’t actually offended, he knew what he had and he knew you hadn’t found it cute the night before. But he thought shutting you up with it would be a good idea.

That’s why he manhandled you between his thighs, “Open your mouth.”

You didn’t even think, your mouth fell open immediately, your tongue sticking out for him. And he gave you just the tip — dragging it over your tongue slowly, watching you taste him just to tease both you and himself. But when you moan at it, he can’t take it.

He slid in deeper, making you take him fully. You breathed slowly as he started to move, slow at first, guiding your mouth with both hands, his eyes glued to your lips, watching the way they stretched around him. He was careful, paying attention to your cues, making sure he didn’t hurt you. But when he saw how easily you were taking him he started going deeper, harder. Until he was fucking himself into your throat.

His hips moved steadily and although he felt like he needed to stop every time you gagged softly around him, you pulled him closer. Your nails were digging into his thighs, thick spit dripping down your chin and he groaned at the sight — eyes watery, hair tugged back by his hand.

“Such a good girl. Ah putain” he groaned.

His hips kept snapping forwards, you just take all he's giving you, showing just how much you want him. He fucked into your mouth until he’s shaking, breathing ragged, hands gripping your head tightly. You could feel he was close so you worked your tongue on his underside till he came, deep and hot, straight down your throat, and you took it all, greedily swallowing around him until he’s pulling you off.

You coughed when he pulled out, panting, trying to catch your breath as he swiped his thumb on your bottom lip.

“The prettiest thing i’ve ever seen” he whispered, reaching for his shirt on the bed to wipe the spit off your chin.

He flopped down on the bed and tugged you with him, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I would actually love to stay here with you but we have to go. Have a flight to catch” you told him, voice a little hoarse.

Isack whined, complained for a while, made you fall apart on his fingers in the shower — then you were off to Paris, finally back home after a triple header.

Your wait at the airport would’ve been easy and quiet, if you weren’t actually so insatiable, moving to whisper insanely inappropriate things in his ear from time to time. A couple of people from the team approached him for some last congratulations for his weekend — they ruffled his hair, patted him on the back and everything, treating him almost like a child.

And you just couldn’t help yourself. “Do you think they’d treat you like that if they knew how fucking deep you were fucking my throat just an hour ago?” you whispered to his ear, smirking and squirming in your seat.

He grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks and making you look up at him. “What is going on with you, huh?”

You just smiled, clearly enjoying the way he was grabbing your face. He scoffed when you didn’t answer, letting go of your face slightly roughly.

Isack noticed how you kept squirming in your seat even after you boarded the plane. At first he thought you were cold, so he took off his hoodie and placed it on your lap — but when you kissed to thank him he realized that wasn’t it. Your lips were warm and you let out a sound, one that could barely be heard over the plane engine, but he felt the vibration.

You both settled back, though. It was only after take off that he let his hand make its way to your lap. You look up, but he’s still looking forward, ignoring you as if his hand isn’t up your thigh, already brushing the hem of your shorts. You shift on your seat, making his hand brush up against your middle.

Your legs parted instinctively, just enough, and his fingers traced the edge of your underwear, only the hoodie over your legs hiding his hand. He pressed them right to your middle, pushing a shaky breath out of you.

“I could make you come right here” he whispered, “just have to be quiet. Can you do it?”

You looked around, heart pounding. Most people were sleeping, the engine loud enough that if you let a moan slip no one would hear — you nodded.

His fingers dipped lower, circling your while just to get his fingers wet and tease you.

Your hips started rocking slowly into his hand when his fingers met your clit. Your head tipped back against the seat, your breaths shaky as you tried to control them.

Soon you were squirming in the seat, holding back moans as you grabbed his arm, tightly to ground yourself. “Isack” you whined.

“Just do it. No one’s gonna see you, I promise.”

His fingers moved faster, pressing hard and acting distracted till you came.You squirmed quietly in your seat, biting your lip to hold any noise in.

“Feel better, now?”

You nodded, shifting on your seat as he pulled his hand away, but not without giving it a firm tap, over your shorts. He noticed how you were still trembling, your chest rising and falling in shaky breaths, so he didn't tease you about it. He held his arm out, offering his shoulder as a pillow and you took it. Your arms wrapped around his and he felt you melting onto his side and tucked your head under his, placing a kiss on your head.

“Didn’t think I could shut you up” he mumbled.

You just groaned, too far gone to answer, and he smiled at your state, shifting you to hold you closer. Once your legs were laid out across his and you were curled up against his chest with a hand on your back for support he kissed your hair again.

You just let him hold you, enjoying the way his thumb caressed your back and his heartbeat right against your ear. At last you pressed your lips against his chest, over the fabric of his shirt.

“‘M sorry I said your dick was cute” you mumbled and felt him chuckle.

When you got off the plane you were still quiet — and all the way through the airport and even when you got to his place. He was carrying all of your things, noticing how sluggishly you were moving.

Even when you got inside, he was hurrying to get all the bags inside so he could just be home. You walked straight in — but when he found you you were standing at the door of his room, just staring in as if you had forgotten what you were doing.

He just laughed under his breath, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder then whispered, “did I break you?”

You barely answered, just hummed, not even yes or no, but he kissed your shoulder, pushing you into the room. He got your clothes off and put you in a clean shirt of his, there was no way he could’ve gotten you to shower in that state. Took his off as well and soon you were both in bed, his body curled up behind yours, holding you close.

Isack rested a hand on your stomach, then kissed your neck, “you’re so quiet” he noted and you only hummed again, he chuckled “so I did break you.”

It must have been less than an hour, probably about forty minutes, before you were rubbing yourself on him again. It was involuntary, really, you were just dreaming and the heat traveled down your body.

It woke him up. His breath caught on his throat when he looked down and saw your ass, only covered by your panties pressing against his crotch. Your movements were slow, nothing too intense, but enough for his cock to be interested.

He tried to pull away, tried to let you sleep but every time he pulled back your body just sought his again. You were going to drive him insane, he would never do something while you were asleep, not when you have never mentioned anything about it. So he had to wake you up.

“Baby” he called softly, kissing your shoulder — you didn’t budge. “Chérie” this time his hand traveled up under your shirt, reaching your chest. You hummed, shifting slightly. “Look what you’re doing to me, ma belle”

You shifted again when you heard the french words, this time turning your body to face his. You hummed a little, placing a kiss on his neck. “Was having a good dream” you mumbled.

“I could tell” he chuckled, pulling you closer.

“Wanna make it come true?” you teased, speaking right into his ear.

“Oh, fuck you. You spent the morning whispering absolutely filth to me in public, just to go completely silent after a single orgasm and now you wake me up asking for more?” you nodded. “Need me to fuck you till you’re numb again? Is that it?”

You nodded again “please”.

He was already kissing your neck, brushing your hair away and moving to hover your body. “Wanna tell me what your dream was like while I do this?” he teased, kissing down your body. You didn’t think he was serious until he stopped right before taking off your panties, looking back up at you and waiting. “C'mon, tell me”

You breath was shaky as you started, his hands resuming their work. “We were in the shower, like earlier” He took off your underwear, your breath caught in your throat when he blew air against your wet cunt.

“Keep going” he encouraged, licking a strip up your slit.

“Shower” you managed and he kissed your clit. “But I was sucking–“ a moan escaped your lips “Fuck, Isa” you dropped your hand to his hair, but he stopped everything.

“Tell me about it and I’ll keep going.”

You groaned “Fuck. I was on my knees,” he licked you again, grabbing your thighs and throwing them behind his shoulders, “I- I was making you feel good. Ah!” His lips wrapped around your clit, “it was messy, but- but I was so wet for you. You made me beg.”

“Yeah? What else?” he spoke against your cunt, his nose brushing against your clit and the vibration traveling up your body.

You could feel it coming up, your high already close, making it hard to concentrate but you knew that if you stopped he would too. “I was touching you. My hands we-were all over your abs” you moaned, “you know how much I love touching your body”

“You always make it very clear” he whispered against your thigh before taking your clit into his mouth.

“Isa, please. So close” you whined.

“Keep telling me about it, baby”

“God! You were holding my hair, pulling on it, then– ah!” a moan ripped through you, “gonna come, Isack, fuck!”

You tugged tightly on his hair, shoving him deeper into your cunt as if it was even possible. His thumb pressed on your whole, making everything more intense — your legs shook around his shoulders, your abs clenched and your head was thrown back as the waves of pleasure washed over you.

Isack lifted his head from between your legs, kissing up your body sweetly, and pushing up your shirt. “So?”

You smiled up at him, confused “So?”

“So I was pulling your hair, then?” he teased, lowering down to kiss at your neck.

“Then you came right down my throat” you whispered, voice sultry to drive him insane, “took me to bed and fucked me like an animal, with my head shoved in the pillows and my ass in the air”

He smiled onto your neck, “I like your dreams.”

Isack pulled away, kneeling up and reaching for a condom in his night stand. You watched him, taking off his shirt, his boxers and finally rolling the condom down on his cock.

“Really waiting for me to do everything?” he teased, slapping your bare thigh “C’mon, get on your knees.”

You bit your lip, turning your body over and kneeling. Your face was on his pillow, cheek pressed up against it, you’d be drooling in no time, he didn’t care. Not when your ass was up in the air for him, your back arched impossibly low as you swayed from side to side, teasing.

Isack couldn’t help but give it a firm slap, earning a loud gasp from you. “You like this way too much”

“Isack, please” you whined, your cunt clenching around nothing while he brushed his cock up and down your slit.

“Fucking insatiable” he murmured to himself.

Then you felt it — his cock pushing in, stretching your walls so fucking perfectly. You both moaned in relief, enjoying the way your bodies melted together. His hand ran down your back, shoving your shirt back up so he could see the curve of your waist, he was just waiting for you to adjust.

So when you pressed your ass back into his crotch, he knew you were ready. Isack would love to say that he built his pace slowly, controlling his hips, but that just wasn’t the case, that day he started his thrusts already roughly, and you didn’t complain.

It was like you were made to take, all of him at any pace, as hard as he could, it didn’t matter, you would take it. Your hand dropped down to your clit, circling it tightly as Isack fucked into you. You needed to come again, as soon as possible, that was all you wanted.

When Isack pressed his thumb to your asshole you were gone — he wasn’t penetrating, just pressing like a button, circling it. So with his thumb on your ass, his cock fucking you restesly and your fingers working your clit you came in no time — walls clenching around him and limbs giving up in seconds.

Isack moaned loudly when you squeezed him, and he quickly realized your knees had given out. So he quickly pulled out, pushing your hips to the side and making you fall on your back. You shared a look, just to confirm that you were still okay before he fucked his dick back into you.

At that point your mind was mostly empty, all you could think about was Isack, how his body moved, how full he was making you feel and how his abs glistened with the thin layer of sweat. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, holding you in place while his other hand dropped to your middle.

His fingers worked your clit with such ease and skill, right on the nub, the overly sensitive spot that made you squirm and moan for him and that’s exactly what he wanted. Isack was incredibly close, but he needed you to come for him just one last time, he didn’t want to leave you on the edge.

So he changed his approach — his thrusts became deeper and slower, he was using his strength now, his fingers still working your clit till he pushed you over the edge. He felt you clenching first, then the full body shakes that triggered his own orgasm, and, finally, the liquid on his fingers.

He groaned when he realized you were squirting, watching the way your body drowned in pleasure. Your moans were so incredibly erotic, something out of a porn video and he could barely believe that he was the one causing that.

“Ah, putain, ma chérie. So fucking perfect.” he praised, caressing your thigh as you came down from you high. “Satisfied now?” You just hummed and he smiled, he had met his goal. “Good. You made a mess, so I would suggest a shower, but you’re too far gone now, huh?” he spoke practically to himself, knowing you wouldn’t give him anything more than a hum for an answer.

He pulled out slowly, climbing off the bed. You usually took very good care of Isack, not only after these moments but everyday, so he felt the need to take special good care of you too.

Isack did everything he could before going back to bed with you. He straightened the sheets around you, pulled the drool covered pillow from under your head, replaced it, wiped your legs and your cunt and brought you water. He even made sure to turn the temperature down because after all that work you were both covered in sweat.

When he was done he curled up back behind you, tugging you close and letting his hand rest on your stomach. You covered it with yours, letting him know you were okay.

“Thanks. I love you” you whispered.

[kayshiftsrealities]

Things that happen in the night

Remmick x afab reader smut

Summary: An attractive unknown man shows up on your doorstep every night. Beggin to be let in. You deny him each time until tonight. {inspired by a conversation with a c.ai bot}

Content: 18+ nsfw, AFAB reader, human reader, smut, lots of it

Word count: 7,183

It was a hot summer night. Your ma and pa fast asleep in their room at the back of the house. The sound of crickets chirping in the distance. You stood inside at the front door, a familiar sound of the porch creaking. Your eyes lighting up with fear and excitement, knowing just who was approaching your door.

You waited on him every night. You couldn’t help but admit your attraction for the man that showed on your porch every night like clockwork. But you were cautious to not let him in. Having heard word of strange men from far away lands, needing let in to come into your home. Ma said they was the devil but this man didn’t seem like no devil to you. Just mysterious and alluring.

But you knew better than to invite him in, so each night you spoke between the screen door. The man always beggin to be let in, but after your denials he would stop and just started speakin in riddles.. And you couldn’t wait to find out what he would say tonight.

As you opened the door you were greeted by that familiar face, covered in the pale moonlight. Your heart beating faster as he spoke up. “Well now, ain’t you a sight…” his voice deep and ragged. Standing there in his button up, caked in sweat, the top few buttons being undone so you could see his chest.

Your breath hitched but you held back as much as you could. Standing tall and crossing your arms against your chest to cover yourself, as you were only wearing your thin nightgown. “You know you ain’t supposed to be here…” you said softly, looking back into the darkness of your home. Acting as if your pa would be walking out with his gun any minute now but you knew damn well that wasn’t the case.

While you usually broke this tough act fairly quick each night, you still stood your ground at first anyways.

Looking back as the man began to speak, “You say that darlin’, yet you here every night waiting on me like clockwork.” He said with a smirk on his lips. “You know what I want… just invite me in…” He said as his hand pressed against the screen door.

“You know I ain’t about to do that, sir.” You hummed, softly tightening your arms around your chest as you could see him eyeing your figure.

His voice went from demanding to begging as he spoke up again. “Darlin’, you really gon make a man beg? Cuz you know I will. Get down on my knees right here on this porch and beg for ya.”

You lifted your chin holding a stern glance, a spark of interest in your eyes wondering if he would actually do what he said.

“You question my words? I’ll say please real nice, so long as you show me what that voice of yours sounds like beggin back.” He said grinning wide as he watched your body shiver at his words.

Your legs tightened at his speak and you knew he noticed, but damn you couldn’t help but get riled up. He did this to you almost every night and yet it was like you was hearing it for the first time.

“Now darlin’ you keep playing at purity but we both know damn well that ain’t the truth, huh? I hear how you breathe when I’m ‘round…” he said as he dragged his nails down the screen door as he stepped closer. “It don’t take much to get you riled up now does it?” Biting his lip after he spoke.

You were close enough to feel the hotness of his breath against your face as he spoke to you. “Frankly, you don’t know me one bit, boy…” you said sternly as you tightened your body.

He huffed, amused. “You never even tell me your name, and we sure know each other plenty ways..” His eyes looked at you unhurriedly, slow and sinful. ”Don’t have to know a woman’s name to know she’s sweet.” He said as he clawed at the screen door separating you. “Don’t have to know a woman to know just how fast to make her tremble…”

You shivered as he spoke. His words melting in your ears like milk chocolate on a warm day.

Crossing your legs tightly, feeling… things for this man that comes to your door each night. Asking for permission to be let in and yet each night you deny him. You wonder the things the two of you could get into if you were to do so but you knew better.

“I… that’s no way to talk to a lady, sir.” You said clenching your legs at his words.

He laughed under his breath, rough and dark. “You really think I need to worry about manners when it comes to you, girl?” His thumb rubbing soft circles on the screen. Your skin was too warm. His eyes caught you clenching your legs tight.. he could see clear as day how the action made your nightgown ride up the bare length of your thighs.

His gaze burned lower, before it flicked up to meet yours. He knew exactly what you were thinking, what you were wanting.

You shiver as you watched his gaze. “Now what you gonna do to me if I let you in, hmm.” You ask with a forwardness, wanting to hear his words.

His eyes flickered, darkened just a bit at the confidence in your tone. He liked that, this wasn’t the normal back and forth that he was used to with you. He leaned forward, lips curling in a grin. When he pressed against the screen door, you swore you could feel the heat of him. “Darlin’,” he said slowly. “If you were to open that door.. I’m not sure I’d give you a chance to change your mind. I’d have you under me in seconds.”

You gasped at his words. “My ma and pa are home.. I couldn’t… I can’t.” You whisper softly, shocked at how forward he was being tonight but you couldn’t deny that you liked it and wanted to find out more.

He chuckled, all lazy smirk and hooded eyes. “They’re sleeping, aren’t they? Sound fast asleep, darlin’.” His hand moving to touch the wooden door frame. “You’re too sweet for me not to get a taste.”

You weren’t a stupid gal. “I ain’t gonna let you in… but maybe we could go somewhere more private…” you let your words linger. Wondering what this man would reply with. Something probably witty as usual.

He looked at you, surprised as you’d never made that offer before. Hell, this was the closest he’d ever gotten to getting you alone. “Go somewhere more private?” He asked, voice low and curious. “Why’s that, darlin'? Don’t want your mama hearing how high that voice of yours gets when I’m touching you just right?”

You swallowed your gasp at his words. Shifting your weight. Deciding to match his forwardness, you spoke up. “If I’m gonna be with you I wanna be able to make as much noise as I want, sir.”

Your words sent a jolt through him, straight to his core. He was surprised, to say the least but he recovered quickly, a slow smile spreading across his face. He leaned back against the wood frame, his shirt straining at the shoulders as he crossed his arms. “Is that right?” He drawled, dark eyes looming over you. “So you ain’t gonna let me in, but you’ll let me have my filthy way with you in the dark?"

He had a point. Maybe it was better to find out in the safety of your own home. Where your ma and pa were. In case the man tried to pull anything dangerous. At least you’d have them right there to run in with they guns. Chase him off. Out in the wilderness, no one would be there to save you from this mysterious man with dirty promises.

This night there was something different in the air and you actually thought about letting him in. God knows you needed some sweet release and this man was out here promising you sinful things. Taking a deep breath you raised your hand to turn the door handle. Really contemplating lettin’ him in.

His eyes widened as he watched you turn the door handle. His expression shifted to disbelief, you were actually about to let him in.

“Come on in… but bet I won’t waste no time shootin if you pull something stupid now, ya here?” You said as you began to crack the door open.

His gaze darkened with hunger, excitement, and perhaps a hint of victory. He wasted no time, slipping through the door as soon as the crack was wide enough. “Hell,” he chuckled, closing the door behind him. “Look at you, little miss. You’re full of surprises tonight.”

You immediately regretted allowing the man into your home but now it was just too fuckin late to take it back. Seeing how excited he was to be in, no barrier of the screen door protectin’ you now. You were extra curious to see what he had in store for you. Being forward you took his hand and spoke softly, “Come, my room right across the house. Far from my ma and pa’s room.”

He followed you, quiet footsteps padding across the wooden floor. His hand was warm, and it consumed your entire smaller one as you lead him. Your heart pounded in your ears, a mixture of excitement and guilt at what you were doing. The house was dark, only a sliver of moonlight streaming through the window as you made your way to your room, across the house, far from the risk of being heard.

As soon as you got into your room you turned and closed the door between the both of you. “You pull anything, and I’ll have you out of here faster than you can say a word.” You said as you glanced back at the gun propped up on the wall.

He chuckled, leaning against the wall with a casual ease. His eyes darkened as they flicked over the gun. “Darlin’,” he drawled, his tone still playful. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” His gaze returned to you, tracing over the curve of your figure beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown. It was sinful, you almost looked like an angel. “So,” he said softly, a hint of wickedness in his smile, “Where shall I start first?”

You tilted your head with a grin and stepped closer to him. “Mister, you seemed so sure of what you’d do to me. I’d be assuming that you would’ve gotten started already.” You said as you toyed with his sweat stained shirt.

He chuckled, enjoying your playful tone but also the feeling of your fingers working his shirt. “You’ve finally decided to be sweet with me, after how many nights of denying me?” He teased, raising an eyebrow as his own hands came to rest on your hips. He pulled you towards him until the two of you were pressed right up against each other, barely any space between. He tilted your chin up, his expression growing more serious as he spoke, “You’re trouble, little miss.”

You gasped as he pulled you close. You could feel his heat through his clothes and his muscles against the fabric. “And what do you do to gals like me? Troublesome gals… hmm?” You said in a sultry tone, your eyes so close to his you could see them glimmering in the moonlight.

“Troublesome gals need a firm hand.” He murmured, his head dipping down to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. His hand coming off your hip and making contact with your bottom, gripping it tightly as if he never wanted to let go of it.

You gasped into his ear, sending waves of pleasure through his body just at the sound of ya. “Reckless gals like you get taught a lesson.” He said as his lips curled into a smile. His hand squeezing your behind while the other gripped your hip.

“Then teach me then won’t ya..” you murmured through soft moans at his touch. Your bodies pressed against each other so that you could feel his excitement growing against your waist. Your hands coming up to rub his muscular arms.

He shuddered at your words, and the feeling of your hands on him. You could feel the muscles in his arms tense beneath your touch as he slowly moved you towards the bed. “Oh, little miss,” he drawled, his voice gravelly and full of warning. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” He pushed you gently back onto the mattress, following you down until he was hovering above you, both of you bathed only in the soft glow of the moonlight.

You let out a quiet yelp as you were pressed down onto the mattress. “I know exactly what I’m asking for, sir. So do it.” You said before leaning your head up so that your mouth was close to his. Biting his bottom lip and tugging it with your teeth.

He inhaled in surprise, his breath catching in his chest as your teeth bit into his lip. His gaze darkened, pupils blown out as he loomed over you, the expression on his face a mixture of warning and desire. “You’re a tease.” He said lowly, voice rough with barely restrained need. “You think I’m gonna let that slide, darlin’?” He moved his weight forward, pressing more of himself against you, his body hot and solid as he pinned you to the bed.

You gasped as he pressed himself against your body, your thighs pressing together tightly. That familiar sensation between your legs. “No sir..” you smirked as your hands explored his muscular back.

He chuckled lowly, the sound almost a growl as he felt your legs press together beneath him. His own body reacted, his jeans suddenly far too tight as he pushed his hips into the apex of your thighs. His head dropped, his mouth finding the sensitive flesh of your neck and shoulders. You could feel his breath against your skin, heavy and hot, as he left behind a trail of kisses. "Naughty girl," he murmured, his breath catching as he felt the soft press of your body against his. "You're gonna be the death of me, darlin'."

Your body shuddered feeling how hard he was against you and god it felt good to have a man’s lips on your sensitive skin. Not havin felt the touch of another man in longer than you could remember. You moaned out feeling his teeth graze your neck in between his kisses, “Oh god mister…”

He groaned at the sound of your moan, his lips trailing over your neck, moving up to your jawline and grazing your earlobe. His hand came to cup your chin, tilting your face upwards to meet his gaze. His eyes were all dark desire, his expression nearly feral. "Say it again," he demanded softly. "I want you to say my name when you moan like that, little miss."

“Mister..” you moaned into his ear. “I don’t even know your name..” you said as your loosen your legs from one another and wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling his excitement closer to your core.

He inhaled sharply, a rough sound of surprise and desire as you pulled him in tight with your leg. He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "You want my name, little miss?" He asked, his fingers tracing over your jaw. "You want to know what name you'll be moaning in the dark?"

“Yessir…” your voice hummed in his ear as your chest heaved, nipples hard and poking through your thin nightgown. Feeling him so close, was a long time coming. All those nights of talk through the screen door.

He inhaled again, a sharp intake of air, his body shuddering against you. He was so close to losing control, to taking what he'd been craving for so many nights. Your voice in his ear and the feeling of your body, pressed so tightly against his. "It's Remmick." he growled, his voice rough and full of need. "That's the name you're gonna be moanin', darlin'. Remember it."

“Remmick…” you repeated his name back to him. A name you could never forget. “Oh I’ll remember.” You said as you shifted your body, using your leg for leverage and turned till you flipped him over. Remmick now on his back and you on top of him. Pressing him down onto the mattress.

He let out a surprised huff as you flipped around, finding himself laying flat on his back and you straddling his waist. His hands instinctively came up to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he stared up at you. "You're full of surprises," he chuckled, the sound low and ragged. His dark eyes looked over your face, taking in the sight of you poised above him. He was more than willing to let you stay in control, for now at least.

“Oh yes I am, sir. You’re gonna find out a lot about me tonight…” you said before you pressed your lips against his, hard and lustful, straddling his hardness.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he eagerly returned your passion. Remmick couldn't get enough of the taste of you. It was everything he'd fantasized about, and more. His body pressed against yours, his erection pulsing against your core. His hands moved up under your nightgown, palming the bare flesh of your thighs. He pulled away from your lips, breath ragged. "You gonna drive me crazy, little miss."

You pressed your core hard against him, shifting your hips ever so slightly. Driving him wild. “Don’t ya want to know my name?” You question with your head tilted. Your hands placed on either side of his head, thumb coming up to stroke his hair.

He grunted, the sound rough and needy, his head tilting back as he felt you press against him, the friction driving him wild. "Oh darlin'," he panted, his body tense and hot beneath you. "You know I do. I want to know every damn thing about you. But you're making it damn hard to focus. You're a wicked little thing, aren't you?"

You smirked at how flustered you got this man. Leaning down to softly kiss his neck, then coming back up to straddle him. “The name’s y/n..” You said as your hands came back to grip the bottom of your nightgown and began to lift it up so that you were straddling Remmick as bare as the day you were born.

His eyes widened as you straddled him without a stitch of clothing. His mouth ran dry as he took in the sight of you, bare and beautiful in the soft moonlight. "Y/n…” he repeated, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Goddamn, you're perfect. I could look at you all night." His hands moved to your thighs, his touch reverent as they traced and explored your skin. "I don't know how I got this lucky, darlin'. You're a vision."

“Good thing we’ve got all night then huh?” You whispered as your hands traced the buttons of his shirt. “Seems unfair I am the only one without clothes now, doesn’t it?”

He chuckled, his hands still roaming over the bare skin of your thighs, fingers tracing idle patterns over the softness of your flesh. "Can't argue with that logic, sweetheart," he murmured. His shirt, wrinkled and damp from the summer heat, suddenly felt too tight. His body was on fire for you, every nerve burning with need. He wanted to feel your skin against his. "You gotta get that damn thing off of me then."

You wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt and ripping it off him. A wetness growing between your legs as you took in the sight of his bare chest beneath you. Tossing his shirt somewhere in the room, without care for where it landed as long as it was off his body. You then went to work unbuckling his belt and slipping it from the loops of his pants. Quickly and hastily unbuttoning his pants. Lifting yourself up off him so he could slide them down and kick them off his feet.

He gasped at your quickness and looked up at you with needy beggin eyes. Wanting you to take the last of his clothing off, his boxers tight against his hardness and you smirked as you did just as he wanted.

His body was all hard planes and muscles, defined and built from manual labor. The sight of him naked and lying on your bed, was a vision you didn't ever want to forget. He watched you, his eyes roaming over your body with a predatory intensity that made your breath catch in your chest. He could see the way you grew slick and needy with each passing moment, and it drove him wild with desire.

Before you could hold back your words you spoke out to him, “I want you. I need you inside me, Remmick. So goddamn bad.” Your wet core rubbing itself against the length of him.

His breath hitched in his chest at the sound of your words. He could feel your body trembling above him, your need clear and undeniable. "Jesus... You gonna kill me," he muttered, his hands roaming over your thighs, moving higher, closer to that place that ached and pulsed with need. "Are you sure, darlin'?" He asked, his voice rough and ragged. "Once I have you, I won't be letting you go. You'll be mine, completely."

“I’m quite sure… sir.” You said aching with desire. Waiting for his next move as your slick wet his hardness. He grunted, the sound somewhere between desire and surrender. Those words, your desire, it was too much. He couldn't resist anymore. His eyes locked with yours, dark with lust. "You're gonna be the death of me." He said again. "But oh god, what a way to go."

You chuckled at his words as your hand came down to guide him into you, lowering yourself every so slowly onto him. The feeling of him stretching you out made you moan out. The tightness of him inside you burned but it was one of pleasure.

He bit back a curse, his head falling back against the sheets as he felt you around him. Your wetness enveloping him, it was overwhelming. He held on to your hips tightly, his body trembling at the pleasure of your touch. He lifted his head, his eyes locked on your face, taking in the sight of you. He'd never seen something more perfect, more beautiful than you in that moment. "Jesus..." He panted.

You began to slowly rock your hips, adjusting to his size. Hot breaths exchanged between the both of you. He watched you, his gaze full of both adoration and desire as you slowly rocked against him, his body tensing at the delicious friction. He was so hard it nearly hurt, but your heat was just what he needed.

He reached up with one hand, gripping the back of your neck and pulling you down to him, pressing his chest flush against you. He kissed you, deep and hard, desperate for more of you. Only breaking the kiss to speak up, "Baby, you feel so good." He murmured against your lips.

You kissed him back with a passion that you had not ever felt before. Your kisses sloppy and wet. Tongue running against his teeth. Wanting more of him. Your hips rocking to the perfect pace as you rode him. “Remmick.. god you’re perfect inside me.”

His breath hitched in his chest, his body burning with need at your words. The way you moved against him, slow and easy, it was like nothing else in the world mattered but the two of you, in this moment. He ran his hands over your body, desperate to touch every inch of you as he kissed you back, "Oh honey," he murmured, his voice a ragged husk. "You're the one who's perfect. I could stay like this forever."

Not having had a moment like this is forever you began to run out of stamina, your body twitching against his but you tried your best to keep up the pace. Wanting to please this man in all the ways possible.

He could tell you were struggling to keep up, your body trembling and tensed against him. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, but also the determination to please him. He smiled softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, gently stroking your skin. "Baby, let me take over." He said softly. "Let me do the work for now."

Pressing your face into his palm, you pleaded with him. “Please. Do whatever you want to me Remmick.”

His eyes darkened at your words, a low growl rising from his throat. He lifted you up, carefully rolling you onto your back and pinning you to the mattress. He loomed over you now, his expression feral and possessive. "Whatever I want, huh?" He asked, his voice a deep rumble. "Oh darlin' you have no idea what kind of trouble you're getting yourself into."

“I want you so bad. Please.” You cried with excitement and neediness as you now looked up at him. Pressing your waist up against him and your hands came up to grip his muscular back.

He growled, the sound deep and feral, his body responding to your every move. He could hardly take it anymore, needing you so desperately that it hurt. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a hot, possessive kiss. "You're mine," he growled. "You hear me? You're all mine." He rolled his hips hard against you, his hardness pressed against your core. "Say it, darlin'. I want to hear you say it."

“Yes I’m all yours Remmick..” you moaned, as he slid right into you as if you were meant to be one, one flesh. He grunted, his body tensing at the feeling of you around him once more. It was heaven, and he never wanted to leave it.

He pulled you tight against him, his hands roaming over your curves, mapping every inch of your body with his touch. "That's right, baby," he murmured, his voice rough and ragged. "You're mine. All mine. And I'm gonna make sure you never forget it." He began to move inside of you, slow and deep, taking his time to savour each second of it. Feeling your tight walls around him.

“Oh baby. You feel so good inside me.” You moaned into his ear. Your nails digging into his back so hard they drew blood as he quickened his pace to the point he was now pounding into you. And god it felt so good. Being used and abused by him.

His breath caught in his chest at your words, your touch lighting his body ablaze. He was on edge, his control slipping away with every dig of your fingers, every soft moan from your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" He panted, his mouth roaming over your neck and shoulders, leaving behind a trail of hot, wet kisses. "I've been wanting you for so damn long."

You could feel his movements becoming staggered and knew he was close to his release. You bucked your hips up to help his thrusts as you gasped and moaned into his ear. “I’ve wanted you since the first day you showed up on my porch, Remmick…”

His body shuddered at your words, the sound of your soft whispers sending him careening towards the edge. He groaned, his arms tightening around you, holding you close and tight as he thrust deep into you. "Oh god, darlin'," he panted, "You don't know what you do to me." He buried his face into your neck, breathing ragged, desperate breaths as he teetered on the brink. "I can't hold on much longer," he warned you, his voice rough and ragged.

“It’s ok baby. Release. Let it all go inside me.” You encouraged him, wanting to be filled with his release. This causing him to groan out, his body trembling as he finally let go, his climax washing over him in a wave of hot, shuddering bliss.

"Oh god, darlin'," he panted, his body shaking as he held you tightly. "You're so damn perfect." You smiled at him as you brought your wrist up to your forehead to wipe the sweat from your brow. “Now be a gentleman and clean a girl up…” you said as you looked down between your legs.

He sat up, moving down to your legs, his fingers tracing the lines of your thighs. "I guess I do owe you, huh?" He drawled, his voice low and rough.

You watched his every move, his body covered in sweat and his muscles shining in the moonlight. You couldn’t get over how attractive this man was and you wanted more and more of him. “Mhm… I’d say so..” you said with a smirk as you watched him move between your legs.

He stayed there for a moment, his thumbs rubbing eerily close to your core but not touching it just yet, his face lowering closer and closer between your legs but not giving you what you so desperately wanted.

Your hands reached down to rub his shoulders and you tilted your head back and closed your eyes. “Please. Remmick.” You pleaded as your hips came up trying to make contact with his face but he held you down so you couldn’t get what you wanted just yet.

He chuckled, his hands holding your thighs down, keeping you in place. "Look how eager you are for it. Begging me for it. It's hard to resist you, darlin'.. but I wanna see you squirm a little longer.." He leaned in, his lips brushing against your thigh, his breath hot on your skin. "You're gonna have to wait, baby. I'm not gonna give you what you want just yet.."

You groaned out “Fuck Remmick! Enough teasing! I need you so badly baby.” Your body squirming with each touch of the man. “I want to feel that filthy mouth of yours on me.

He grinned, his lips moving even closer to your core. "What was that, baby?" He asked, his voice low and rough. "You wanna feel my mouth on you?" His mouth ghosted over your core, his breath hot against your skin. "You gonna beg for me to give it to you?"

“Yes oh yes please Remmick…I want that mouth all over me. I want you to taste my sweetness. I’m so wet for you, can’t you see. Please give a poor girl like me some lovin..”

He groaned at your words, his resolve quickly disappearing. "Goddamn, darlin', you're driving me crazy." He muttered, his lips so close to where you wanted him. He lowered his head, his hot breath on your flesh. "I need to taste you, baby. I need to have you on my tongue. Are you ready for me?"

“Yes. God yes I’m so ready.” You panted at his touch and he could hear the desperation in your voice, the need and desire obvious to him. He knew he couldn't tease you any longer. He needed to give you what you wanted. He pressed his lips against your core, his tongue slipping out to taste you. You were so sweet and so wet, he couldn't get enough of you. He began to work his tongue inside you.

“Fuck…” you moaned out feeling his tongue in you. Your legs instinctually wrapping around his head to pull him even closer into your core and he groaned as you did so. He was lost in you, consumed by the taste of you. He felt as if he could do this forever, never getting tired of the way you responded to him.

He ran his tongue over you, his motions slow and deliberate, wanting to draw out every last bit of pleasure he could give you. He could tell how badly you needed this, by the way your body trembled under his touch.

“Goddamn, Remmick. You sure know what you’re doing.” You moaned and groaned as he worked his tongue on you. Your body wriggling at his touches.

He groaned into you, the sound muffled against your flesh. He couldn't get enough of the way you tasted, the way you moved against him. He wanted to bring you to the edge and then keep you there as long as he could. His hands dug into your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted you. This was all he ever wanted, you, right here, in his hands. He worked his tongue against your core, his pace quickening.

You could feel yourself getting close already. Your desire and need for this handsome stranger was so strong. Something about him. Just was so alluring to you and the way he worked his mouth on your core was enough to drive you crazy.

He could sense how close you were, how your body trembled and tensed as he worked his mouth against you. He wanted to drive you over the edge, feel you come apart at the touch of his tongue. He was addicted to the taste of you, addicted to the sound of your moans, the way you gasped and writhed at the sensations he was creating.

You moaned loudly but his hand came up quickly to cover your mouth as to keep you from waking your folks. You couldn’t help but suck on the skin of his calloused hand that was covering your mouth. Driving him wild. Your release inching closer and closer by each second.

He groaned loudly at the feeling of your mouth on his hand, your tongue against his skin. He could feel the way your body tensed beneath him, he was so close to bringing you over the edge. He increased his pace, his mouth working tirelessly against your core.

The way he worked his mouth on you had you right on the edge of your release. Every time you felt as if you were going to come for him, he did something different with his mouth yet still so pleasurable. It halted your release and you begged him, “Please Remmick…”

He chuckled, the sound low and rough before speaking against you. "I'm gonna make you feel so damn good, baby. I'm gonna make you remember this night for the rest of your life." He looked up at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire. "You're gonna come for me, aren't you baby?" He pulled his hand back from your mouth to let you speak. “Mhm. I’m so close baby.”

He could see the need in your eyes, the way you trembled and squirmed beneath him. He was driving you crazy, and he knew it. He loved having this power over you, the power to bring you to the edge and keep you there as long as he wanted. "I want to hear you say it, baby." He murmured, his mouth close to your core. "Say it."

“God yes. I’m gonna come for you, sir. So goddamn hard. I feel it. Just keep going on like that on my puss.” You begged.

He groaned at your begging, the sound low and animalistic. He knew he had you just where he wanted you, desperate and needy. He loved seeing you like this, his control over you complete. "That's it, baby. Moan for me. I want to hear you when you come." He said before he put his mouth on you again, his tongue licking and teasing you, his hands grasping your hips tightly to keep you right where he wanted you.

You felt yourself growing close to your release as he picked back up licking your core. “Fuck Remmick. I’m gonna come.” You pleaded for him to keep up his pace. And soon enough you felt yourself climaxing and releasing all over his dirty mouth.

He felt your climax, felt your body tense and shiver as it crashed through you. He kept his mouth on you, prolonging your pleasure as long as he could. He wanted to make it last forever, to draw out every last moment of ecstasy from you. Finally, he pulled away, lifting his head from your thighs as he looked up at you. He was watching your face, watching how your expression shifted as you came down from your climax. "You taste so good, baby."

Panting from your release you looked down at him, your chest heaving, legs shaking around him. Your hands cupping his cheeks and pulling his face up so that he crawled up your body and was face to face with you. “Let me have a taste…” you said as your eyes trailed down to his lips.

He obeyed you, crawling up your body so he was face to face with you, his body pinning you to the bed. He smiled down at you, a wicked gleam in his eyes. When you told him to let you have a taste, he knew exactly what you wanted. He leaned down, his lips just barely touching yours. "You wanna taste yourself on my mouth, baby?"

“Mhm… real bad.” You said as you pressed your lips against his, tongue running along his lips, getting a taste of your juices and his release mixed together. He groaned into your mouth, the taste of you on his tongue driving him mad. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours, his body pressed flush against yours. He shifted his weight on top of you, his legs entwined with yours as he pulled away from the kiss.

"Goddamn, you're something else, you know that?" He purred, his hands roaming over your body. “Oh I know baby. There ain’t no one else out there like me.” You said with utter confidence. Hands exploring his bare back, feeling his raised skinned from where you scratched him with your nails.

He chuckled, the sound rough and raw. "Don't I know it, darlin.'" He said, his eyes looming over your body, taking in every inch of you. He could feel your fingers tracing over his blood stained back. "You're gonna drive me wild." He said with a chuckle.

“Oh that’s what I plan on doing, baby…” you said with a smirk before you turned your head to look out the window. “Sun’s coming up soon… you gotta leave don’t ya…?” You pouted. Knowing every time the sun rose Remmick was quick to disappear.

He sighed, his smile fading as he too looked out the window, noticing the first hues of light beginning to touch the horizon. He didn't want to leave, he really didn't, but he knew he had to. "Yeah... I do." He said, his expression turning sad as he looked back at you. "I'll be back tonight though. I promise. I hate leaving you... you know that.."

“Long as I get to see you at nightfall… I’ll be ok. Wish I could keep you here in this bed all day though…” You said sadly, seeing the genuine sadness on Remmick face made you even sadder.

He chuckled softly, his expression softening as he reached up to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your face. "Yeah... I know. Trust me, sweetheart. I'd love nothing more than to just lie here all day…” His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, his touch warm and tender. "And at night, I'll come to you. Every single night."

“And I’ll be waiting on you each night.. now that you’ve been invited in maybe I’ll wait naked in my bed. Have you come surprise me…” you smirked as you looked at him, pressing your head into his touch.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, your words making his body react in an instant. He pressed himself closer to you, his body hot and needy, your scent surrounding him. "You trying to drive me crazy, darlin'? Cuz it's working." He muttered, his eyes darkening with lust. His fingers gripping your chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger.

You could see him getting worked up again and as much as you wanted to go for another round, you knew how important it was that he was gone by sunrise so you looked down. “Go on and get before we start something we can’t finish..”

He let out a low grumble of disappointment, but he knew you were right. He had to go, as much as he hated to leave your side. He took one last long look at you, your body laid out underneath him, a look of desire on your face, and he knew he had to leave before he got too distracted. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a quick, chaste kiss, his hands reluctant to let you go. "I gotta go, baby. See you tonight."

“See you tonight Remmick.” You said with sadness yet excitement for what was to come at sunset.

He lingered for just a moment, his eyes drinking in your face, committing it to memory. And then he finally stood up from the bed, the loss of his body heat making you shiver. "I'll be counting the minutes," he said as he began to dress, his eyes still on you, your naked body laying on the bed.

You nodded and frowned at the loss of his body heat. The coldness of being the only one in the bed made you grab the bed sheets and wrap them around your body as you sat up to watch him dress.

He dressed quickly, his hands moving fast as he tossed his shirt over his head and buttoned up his pants. He couldn’t look away from you, the sight of you wrapped in nothing but those sheets making his body ache with need. He had to have you again, but he knew he couldn’t. With a low groan, he forced himself to turn away, taking a deep breath to try and get his bearings. And with that he was off to god knows where…

[killishin]

— ♡ right person at the right time.

PART 05.

pairing: jason todd x reader

category: lots of fluff, angst, he fell first she fell harder kinda trope, sfw, thinking of making this a slow burn but we'll see.

content warning: afab, mention of death (reader's mother), violence here and there, mention of blood, inaccurate medical talk, not proofread

summary: reader's just a normal citizen of Gotham, scrambling to making ends meet. after a fateful encounter, when he saw the reader kick ass and save a life- he can't get them off his mind. and fate just keeps pulling them together, forcing him to do something about it.

a/n: im having a still having a shit week and a writer's block on top of that so i really do not like this chapter. still enjoy :)

wc: 3k

fic masterlist. previous. next

dividers by @cafekitsune

your chai's getting cold but you simply stare at it, pulling at the skin of your lips. you let out an impatient sigh as you looked away, gazing out the window with a furrow in your brow.

he's late.

he had recovered his tarnished reputation at the gala, it had left you wondering about his personality. he did not seem like the type to be that persistent or flirty, but he was both at the gala.

though you're doubting his persistence as the minutes tick by. releasing a disappointed sigh you picked up your now lukewarm tea and sipped on it, and right then, it started pouring hard. it was cloudy already but not to the point to rain so hard.

you groan internally as you lean back in the chair and look at the blank screen, already expecting the raincheck text from him that would further sour your mood. but maybe its for the best, it'd spare you the awkwardness.

"thinking I'd bail out huh?" you jumped in your seat and looked up, instinctively turning your phone away as if caught doing something horrid. your eyes widened further as you took him in, he wasn't all drenched but enough to leave his clothes and hair damp at places. he seems to be short of breath too, huffing quietly while his cheeks seems reddened. quite adorable.

"oh— jason. hi— oh god you're all drenched." you gasped out quietly as you looked him over, not quite meeting his intense gaze. you were about to stand up but he shook his head slightly, pressing on your shoulder to sit back down. your cheeks reddened on their own, then your eyes fell on the tea and guilt found its way in your heart.

he noticed that and chuckled as he waved his hand, "its fine. its my fault for being late. anyways uh- here—" he revealed the hand that had been hiding behind his back, a small bouquet of tulips. the arrangement was a bit haphazard and wet from the rain but they simply looked even more soft and beautiful.

"i ran and it was already pouring hard- so well—" you ceased his apology midway as you took the bouquet with furrowed brows and smile, "you didn't have to."

his eyes paused as they stared at your lips, his lips tugging up in sync to yours before he coughed and moved to sit across you, draping his jacket on the back of the chair.

"i did. otherwise im pretty sure I'd get an earful for being late."

"so this is bribery?"

"your words not mine."

but he really hadn't planned on being late, he was thorough in his selection of the flowers, hoping and praying that whatever he chose brings a smile on your face.

you had planned on being mad at him, maybe ending this little date sooner than decided but his charm was rubbing off on you in all the right ways.

he ruffled his hair to shake out the water before brushing them to make them seem less unruly. which didn't work. you had to stifle a laugh as you bit your lips.

"so can i know why you're—" you looked at your watch before back up at him, "thirty minutes late? the flowers are good enough bribe but I'd like to really know now."

he sighed out and a sheepish smile adorned his lips, his eyes glancing away from yours and finding solace on the drops accumulated on the window.

"before i tell you, i really had not planned on being late—"

"no one ever plans to be late i suppose." you interrupted with an amused smile, watching a big man squirm gives you just another kind of satisfaction.

"yes. yes you're right—"

"unless they're trying to be fashionably late." you bite back a grin at his pointed look, "i wasn't being fashionably late. now would you stop finding my misery hilarious and let me apologise properly?" he begged with a pleading smile and you chuckled before leaning back and nodding.

"right. so, i left my place on time—thirty minutes early even." he began explaining, "i thought it wouldn't be that hard to pick a bouquet. they make it look so easy in the films—"

"you watch romcoms?" you ask with a surprised grin, your brows raised a bit and he raised a brow at you, his lips tugging up, "is that judgement i hear in your voice?"

"no. i mean, i just thought that- well-" now that you have to put it into words it does feel judgemental, "someone like you—" you hadn't even finished your sentence and his brows raised up as he huffed out a chuckle, feigning disbelief.

"someone like me? wow." he shook his head slowly and you rolled your eyes as you gave him a deadpanned stare, though your smile wasn't the least bit deterred, "that is judgement. didn't know you were so..."

you raised a brow, smile turning as playful as his, daring him to continue.

and he thought he could wing this whole date, sail through smooth. he had game, he had flirted and dated— sometimes he didn't even need to— he can do this. yet his confidence dwindled, his cheeks turned reddish like an apple, heart plummeting to his stomach at the mere sight of your smile, at the realisation of its effects. disastrous, so very disastrous and still, he was attracted to it like a moth to a flame.

his mind went blank and his smile suddenly wasn't so smug. "....judgy."

your brows furrowed at his quiet answer and you chuckled, the sight confusing you yet you liked how you affected him. you shook your head and waved your hand, "continue please."

"right so bouquets." he wished he had at least ordered something so he could rather stare at it than face you, but it was inevitable right now, "i took too much time. i just— i didn't know what you would like and i didn't want to simply hand a rose bouquet. that would seem effortless and thoughtless—" he explained quite animatedly, his hands moving around, and your focus divided. in your defense, those are some brilliant hands, solid and sculpted.

but unknown to your thoughts, he mistook the wavering of your smile for displeasure , "—i mean i have nothing against it, of course. sorry do you like roses instead?"

"huh? oh no— no i love tulips!" you blink your eyes as you shook your head, cheeks reddening with embarrassment though you mask it quick, but then his words push through the haze and you realise he took all that mental trouble, just to choose a bouquet. many didn't even bring a bouquet, while he was hoping to get the one you liked.

"thank you." you smiled softly as you leaned in and kept a hand on his, hoping its enough to calm his alarmed mind.

it worked the opposite.

for a spilt second he even forgot the conversation, his eyes snapping to your soft ones resting over his. your hand wasn't necessarily small, yet over his they seemed dwarfed. it endeared him to no end, and he vehemently fought the urge to turn his hand over to engulf yours.

maybe this is what yearning is like, he thought, a simple touch of your hand is enough to make his senses come undone, his sanity go haywire, his soul to greed for more and more, still his mind reminds caution. caution because he doesn't want to corrupt you, you who deserved to be happy.

but he's already stepped in far too deep, what would it matter now to cross another few lines?

and with that, he turns his hand, not yet holding your hand but simply caressing your palm with his finger. your smile falters as it sends a shiver down your spine and he feels it too, and he likes it.

he pushed down the urge to grin and instead continued, "alright good. im glad you liked them." he smiled, so innocent as if he knows nothing about the tremors he's causing in your heart.

your mind's racing, racing so fast. this feels intimate. he's just holding— not even holding your hand— but this is worse! this feels rushed, you barely know the guy and yet his touch doesn't raise any flags in your mind. that gnawing feeling in your gut simply increases, like you know him, to explain why you're so okay with his touch.

his caress turned into a soft scratch and your eyes widened slightly as you looked up at him, only to find him smiling with a brow raised. you realised you didn't reply and instead were staring at your intertwined hands like a fool.

he can't already have put a spell on you. you can't accept that.

"so thirty minutes late? just from bouquet selection?" you cocked your head to the side and withdrew your hand, instead holding it around your cup and taking a big, embarrassing gulp instead of a sip. but the tea had already gone cold. "that still seems a bit much."

"my bike broke down then." he said the first thing that came to his mind, because if you knew him completely you'd know he keeps his bike in top condition, it can never break down.

to his utter misfortune, dick bumped into him, though he has a suspicion it maybe wasn't a coincidence. it took great restraint and patience to dodge dick's questions and teasing glance. he even aimlessly drove around in case dick was on his tail.

that's what took him so much time.

your brows rose up and you leaned in again, your eyes sparkling with curiosity, "you got a bike?" he paused, trying to discern your sudden interest in his bike.

"..yeah. why, you like em?" he asked and you laughed softly with a nod, "yeah. my dad loves bikes, he had a really sweet one. i learned to ride on that bike." you recalled with yearning in your eyes before looking down at your cup as you shrugged, "but its been years now since I've drove a bike."

his eyes sparkled like yours, even brighter since he realised you shared interests with him. conversation was easier after that, it went on for a good hour and you didn't even realise it. the conversation didn't feeling boring, they didn't feel forced or rushed— it felt normal and easy.

there was more than just words though. the lingering gazes, the teasing smile that bordered on something stronger than yearning, stolen touches. sometimes it was the fingers, sometimes his feet brushing against yours or his feet. when he felt particularly bold he kept his knees right there, close enough to touch but not quite. he liked the way your eyes widened slightly each time your legs brushed his, it was adorable how you scrambled to compose yourself. if he didn't already know you he wouldn't know just how affected you are.

you didn't get to know about him much besides his few likes and dislikes, you didn't pry much into his personal life. despite how much you felt like you knew him, you didn't want to push it. it had been the first time in a long time since a date went this well, you didn't want to spoil it.

"i can drop you home." he said and tilted his face in the same way that gets blood rushing to your face, and he knows it, since his smile widens playfully. you shook your head with a hesitant smile, "no i can walk home. i don't want to be a bother—"

"trust me you won't be." he gave you a pointed look before holding the extra helmet towards you and your brows furrowed, "you always carry an extra helmet?"

he hesitates and you smile as you take the helmet, your fingers brushing his, "or were you that confident about the date going so well that I'd agree to be dropped off?"

he was.

"just get on." he pretended to huff as he swung his leg on the bike, your eyes shamelessly staring before you put on your helmet and sit behind him.

"your bike's nice." you said quietly, you just needed to fill the awkward silence as you wondered where to put your hand on, the one thats not holding the bouquet to your chest. you've never been this awkward before and you reckon it has something to do with the butterflies in your stomach.

"i thought you've ridden on a bike before?" he playfully mused as he put on his helmet and your rolled your eyes. "i have, smartass, i just don't wanna make you uncomfortable—"

he grabbed your hands and pulled them around his waist, his own cheek reddening and throat closing up as his heart raced, "not a chance."

he revved the bike to life, the vibrations travelling through your very own body and you smile despite the tension between you both. its been a good while since you've been on one and it feels great. behind a man such as jason is a bonus.

as he drives through the gloomy roads of gotham your eyes linger on them. they dont seem that scary as they do when you're alone, even though the sound of the bike turns a few heads, the attention doesn't make you jumpy or alert.

your hands lingered just above his abs at first, before they gradually settled over his body, feeling the ridges and hard planes of his abs. unintentionally your hand travelled up, you didn't know when it happened and you realised it when you felt his racing heart under your palm. suddenly his hand closed over yours as he stopped the bike at the signal.

"someone's bold." he remarks despite his racing heart and your lips tug upwards, "does your heart always beat that fast when you drop off your date?"

only with you.

"only with you." you didn't expect him to say that, he didn't expect to say it out loud.

"that was corny. sorry."

"no it was adorable. its totally fine."

"you're making fun of me now?"

"and is that gonna be a problem?"

he chuckled as he slightly shook his head, and you felt it shaking your hand, bringing a smile to your lips, "smartass."

"what was that?" but he revved the engine and accelerated suddenly, causing you to yelp as your body is pulled behind for a moment by the inertia.

"show off." you muttered before lightly bumping your helmet with his and he simply smiled.

to your dismay your apartment reached sooner than later, and you got your hands off him reluctantly.

"the ride was nice. thank you for dropping me off." you said softly as you card through your now tangled hair, nose wrinkling as your hair tugged.

"no problem." he murmured, so low you might not have noticed it if you weren't already looking at his lips. he was staring, and so were you. he didn't know what good he did that he could be in your life as jason, but he promised to himself right then and there, that he wasn't going to mess this up.

your hands tightened around the bouquet as your looked away, subtly bringing your hair at the sides of your face so they cover your reddened ears, "have a safe ride home. bye."

he nodded as he watched you turn before his eyes widened, and as always, his hands worked faster than his voice.

"wait!" he had leaned a bit and grabbed your hand, tugging you back slightly causing you to turn around with your brows raised up.

"yeah?"

"you didn't..." he rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand as he huffed in frustration, frustration at his own inability to act cool. "second date. is there gonna be one?" he asked, rather grumpily, his brows furrowing as he appears to be less affected than he is.

for a moment you just stared. a man, almost the size of a certain vigilante you know, with a voice like that and a presence so heavy like that, is a grumpy mess. because of you.

and he still hasn't let go of your hand.

you tried stifling your laugh in a poor attempt as you nodded, "I'll text you, jason." you said gently in a playful manner before squeezing his hand.

his downturned lips slowly pulled into a smile as he squeezed your hand back, his hand lingering in the air as you let go. "goodbye."

"bye jason."

the bouquet might have gotten a bit wrinkled and missed a few petals, yet you arranged it delicately in your vase as soon as you stepped in your apartment. your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, your heart hurt from the shock of a date going so well.

maybe you were imagining it, but the flowery scent filled the air of your apartment just minutes into your home, just like he did into your heart.

yet a thought stayed into your mind, was it just your disillusionment or was he built exactly like red hood?

the patrol night was awfully weird for others as the usually snippy and sarcastic jason was in a rather tame mood. he was... happy? it got everyone's brain short circuiting, everyone except dick who had, in fact, followed him to see the cute little date he was on.

for once jason wasn't thinking of ways this could go wrong, he wasn't scared to take the leap of faith, he was simply... living. thats a rare word for a man like him in a profession like that. living is a luxury and you've got him feeling that. there's still a nagging feeling in his mind that rages saying its just the calm before the storm, its gonna end soon, you're gonna leave soon like everyone does— but for once he's strong enough to ignore it.

and that strength increases when he peers inside the window of your living room, despite the fact he hasn't visited as red hood for a good few days, you still sleep on the couch, awaiting him.

with the flowers he gave in the vase beside the couch.

maybe its okay to hope.

reblogs are much appreciated! :)

taglist : @itzmeme @bmyva1entine @sept3mberchild @lightthatgoout @satan-s-ass @deadbeatphobos @starshinegrl @ttdamian @lexi2005 @dontyouthinkitstrange @zhentheraven @justheretochillabitlowkey @nori-is-me @kvzutora @mischief-somehow-managed

im sorry if i missed someone :)

[loveharlow]

okay but jj yearning ?🤭

i LOVE yearning!jj🥹 he'd be such a puppy, y'know?? like just staring at you every day and he doesn't know why he can't just approach you

It started subtly, a stolen glance here, a lingering gaze there. Soon, it became a full-blown, undeniable crush that gnawed at him, especially when you were laughing, or studying in some random place, completely oblivious to his existence. Or, at least, he hoped you were.

"Dude, you're gonna burn a hole through her head," Pope muttered one afternoon, nudging JJ with his elbow. They were sprawled on the dock, absentmindedly fishing, but JJ's eyes were fixed on you, a few yards away, helping John B untangle a fishing net.

JJ scoffed, trying to feign nonchalantness. "What're you talkin' about?"

"Oh, please." Kiara chimed in, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "We all see it. You get all quiet and weird whenever she comes around. You're like love sick puppy."

"What?" JJ spluttered, his face flushing. "I'm not- I'm just observing, man. She's... interesting."

Pope grinned. "Interesting, huh? Why don't you go tell her how interesting she is? She's right there." He gestured with his chin.

JJ immediately tensed. "Hell no! What if she thinks I'm a creep? That's creepy." The thought alone made his stomach churn. He was JJ Maybank, he didn't get cold feet around girls. He didn't get flustered. He didn't yearn. But for you, he did.

"And stalking her isn't...?" Kiara added in her thoughts, raised a brow in JJ's direction.

He just shot the Carrera girl a sharp look to which she threw her hands up in surrender while he continued his silent vigil.

He knew the way your hair caught the sunlight, the blinding sparkle you'd get in your eyes when you were excited, the focused frown that appeared when you were concentrating. He knew you preferred juice to soda, and that you hummed under your breath when you were happy. He knew all these small, insignificant details because he couldn't help but notice.

"Oh my- Just talk to her, man!" Pope hissed, throwing a wrench down in exasperation. "She's not gonna bite!"

"Yeah, unless you scare her off," Kiara added, rolling her eyes playfully.

JJ ignored them, his heart doing a familiar flip-flop as you finally succeeded in untangling John B's fishing net. You smiled at the Routledge boy, nodding as he thanked you, and then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, your eyes met his.

For a split second, the world seemed to hold its breath. JJ's breath hitched in his throat. He expected you to look away, to dismiss him, to do anything but what you did next.

A slow, soft smile bloomed on your face. It wasn't a pity smile, or a polite one. It was genuine, warm, and it reached your eyes, making them sparkle. Your head dipped in the smallest of motions. You looked sheepish. Almost...nervous. As nervous as he felt.

JJ felt something akin to a punch to the gut, but in the best possible way. The teasing of his friends, the fear of rejection, the endless internal debates – it all faded into the background. In that moment, with your smile directed solely at him, he realized it.

He was in deep. Deeper than the deepest channel in the marsh. And for the first time, the thought didn't scare him. It felt... right. He managed a small, shaky smile back, and watched as you averted your gaze, almost as if you caught yourself, completely unaware of the seismic shift you'd just caused in JJ Maybank's world.

JJ Maybank Taglist in replies!

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[jetblack4realz]

not a choice - jacaerys velaryon

summary - when rumors spread surrounding a new choice in bride for jace, your insecurities get the best of you

targ!reader, so you have white hair. pre-war and they're just chillin on dragonstone so slay

also, tell me why i can write SO MUCH for jace?! like, over 6 and a half thousand words? huh??

warnings - nah

word count - 6.5k

______________________________________________________________

you were the one to see jace off when he left for the baratheon's rebellion at storm's end.

"stay safe," you requested gently, hands on his biceps as he offered you a bit of a sideways smile.

"don't fret, love," he told you, squeezing your waist as he pecked your lips. "i'll be perfectly fine, and i'll learn a lot. it's a miracle mother allowed me leave in the first place."

"i know, but i still worry," you answered with a short sigh. "it's a war you're attending to."

"a war that will be resolved quickly with the help of a dragon. when daemon went to the stepstones it was resolved rather quickly," he said.

"he was gone for months, jace. and you're not him, and vermax isn't caraxes," you reminded. "all i'm asking is to be careful. remember that you have a girl back home waiting for you."

"how could i forget? you're the most beautiful girl in all of westeros, it'd be difficult to forget you," he said with a widening grin as he pulled you in for another kiss. you smiled into it, hands sliding up to his shoulders as he held you tightly. "i'll talk to my mother when i return. i promise." he kissed you again. and then when he pulled back, he winked. "and your hand will be mine." he pressed his lips to yours even more firmly than before.

when he pulled back you noticed the dragon pit guards looking awkwardly away from you both and you let out a breathy laugh and nodded. "i'll be looking forward to it. but now, you need to go. lord borros is waiting for you."

"i'll write if i can," he promised.

"i will too," you answered. "be safe."

"i'll be better than that - i'll be victorious."

his laugh echoed behind him as he mounted the green dragon he was bonded to, the agile thing chirping as you offered them both a wave. he winked before taking off into the clouds, headed straight for the narrow sea.

you let out a deep sigh, spinning the ring on your middle finger as you watched him disappear into the sky.

"you know it's your last time you'll see him like that, huh?" your handmaiden asked with a sad frown as she looked at you.

your eyes snapped to hers, brows knitted tightly. "what do you mean?"

her eyes widened. "that's just what everyone around the grounds has been saying. that he's headed to help win lord borros' favor to wed his eldest daughter. apparently there have been talks."

"that's ridiculous. we're practically betrothed, my father would never allow it," you answered, waving the suggestion away.

"your father isn't here, my princess," she said quietly. "but lady elenda and their daughters are arriving in a fortnight, as you know. it seems as though princess rhaenyra wants the alliance."

"what need do we have of the baratheons?" you asked, shaking your head even as your brows furrowed further. "this is a nonsensical idea. jace and i have been set to be betrothed for years."

"it's just a rumor, your highness," she said, volume dropping even more.

"yes," you said, glancing up at the skies once more. "just a rumor."

the baratheons arrived only days after jace's departure in order to stay safe from the chaotic rebellion on their homeland and you were surprised to not be called to treat with them. rhaenyra insisted there was "no need" for you to bother yourself with the formalities.

apparently, they would not be staying long.

you were walking with baela when you were approached by a courtier you knew was a lover of gossip.

"is it true?" he asked with a tilt of his head and an interested smile. "is your almost-engagement off?"

you raised your brows. "funny. no, it's not."

"rumor has it it's going to be," he told you, tsk'ing his tongue as he shook his head. "the baratheon girl - cassandra - she's a beauty. dark haired like our prince with glittering gold eyes. fit for royalty."

"you cannot announce such implications like that to your princess," baela said with a glare. "off with you. the baratheon girl will leave and y/n will remain. and if you anger her more it will be your pain."

"as you wish, my princess," the man said with a slight bow, though his smile remained ever so slightly on his lips.

"ridiculous," she scoffed as he went on his way.

you hesitated as the four baratheon sisters rounded the corner, all strikingly beautiful in their own ways - in ways completely opposite you. the oldest, cassandra, held herself high, poised, proper in every way as her sisters giggled about her. "is it, though?"

baela followed your eyes before scoffing again and slapping your arm. "it is. you two have been head over heels for each other as long as i can remember. father and rhaenyra are betrothing you. those arrangements are set in stone."

"except they aren't. and father is not exactly in rhaenyra's good graces currently."

"she's not cruel," she told you. "she will not take out her frustrations with our father on you. or jace. he loves you, and she knows that."

your eyes remained on cassandra for far too long until you both finally turned the opposite corner and you let out a breath. "right."

you were surprised when you received your first raven from jace a few weeks later, not entirely sure if he'd be able to get one out to you.

my love,

i finally understand how the stormlands got their name. vermax hasn't taken well to the constant wind and rain, but we've managed to calm the fight a decent amount. i'm certain i'll arrive home soon.

lord borros has been kind with me, though he is a rather gruff man. he trusts my judgment and allows me to make my own moves with vermax, which i appreciate. we've worked well together and i see us continuing to be powerful allies in the future.

i hope you're staying entertained without me. i wish you were here. well, i don't wish you were actually here, but i wish i could see you. i miss you.

have you spent time with the baratheon girls? lord borros insists his eldest is a wonderful girl, as does my mother. i hope you've found a friend in her.

i'll try to be home soon.

i love you.

jace

you gripped the parchment tightly, eyes scanning the lines about borros and cassandra nearly a dozen times before you finally rested it against the desk again.

his mother spoke to him of her. lord borros was speaking of her even in times of war and rebellion.

perhaps there was an element of truth to the rumors.

but jace loved you, you knew that. rhaenyra would respect that, or at least you hoped.

luke's approach was quick and his brow was furrowed as he looked down at you. "my mother has been speaking with lady elenda in the war room all morning."

"what?" you wondered.

"she's asked to see you," he continued with a heavy breath.

"me?" you repeated with wide eyes.

"you. now."

you stared at him a little longer as his brows fell into a sympathetic gaze before finally moving around him and heading towards the princess' rooms. as you walked, you spotted the younger three baratheon girls giggling their way to the gardens and then when you were outside the hallway there was cassandra and elenda.

when they spotted you they both fell into instantaneous curtsies, cassandra's head dipping lower than her mother's as she spoke: "your highness."

"the princess is waiting for you," lady elenda said as she rose, looking back towards the doors.

you didn't answer, nodding instead to the both of them and passing them by in favor of rhaenyra's rooms. you heard elenda begin whispering to her daughter but you just kept moving forward, the guards pulling the doors open upon your arrival.

you immediately fell into a deep curtsy, silvery white hair falling in front of your eyes before you raised again.

"you called?" you asked as they shut the doors behind you, eyes immediately falling on the princess seated at her desk.

she looked up at you, eyes softening as a smile pulled at her lips. "my girl, how are you?"

you raised your shoulders and mustered a hesitant smile, still uncertain of what this conversation was going to lead to. "i'm well, thank you. and you, your highness?"

she let out a breath through her nose, smile tightening before she nodded. "i'm fine, yes. thank you, darling."

your eyes roamed the room, hands clasped in front of you as protocol called for.

"what was it that you needed?" you asked when your gaze fell back on her.

rhaenyra stood then, rounding the desk to lean against the front of it and eye you intently, letting out a breath as she mulled over her words. "i need to speak to you about jace."

"is he alright?" you asked instantly, taking a step towards the princess. "he wrote to me a few days ago. has something happened since then?"

"he is perfectly alright," she said, holding her hands out as she shook her head. "he is fine. but, there has been much conversation about him and his future. lord borros is impressed with him."

you paused before speaking. "that's wonderful."

"it is. i think we will end this rebellion with much stronger ties to the baratheons than before," she said.

"i'm sure he's grateful for jace's aid."

"eternally. lady elenda speaks well of him too."

"they've met?"

rhaenyra's eyes were intense as she watched you and you quickly schooled your features so you didn't come off as offensive as you assumed you'd looked previously.

"briefly, when you all were children you were introduced. i believe she once wished her daughter to be wed to him. she's always sought a tie to the throne," she hummed, still watching you closely.

"many do," you answered, rubbing your right thumb over the top of the left in a fit of developing nerves. "i'm grateful you and my father betrothed us when you did."

"yes, we certainly ended those possibilities early," she said.

you held your breath for a moment, trying to bite your tongue as best you could and suppress the little voice within you that resembled your father's.

rhaenyra was still smiling, so you tried to keep yours afloat too.

"are you worried that lady elenda is still set in her previous plans?" you asked her carefully. "it is odd she hasn't found a match for cassandra. she's been of age for a few years now, has she not?"

"yes, she has," she answered. "and i agree that it is odd. i am not entirely sure of her intentions, but she and her husband are quite... stubborn individuals. and very self-interested. if i am to be honest with you, my dear, i'm worried for our standing even after the end of this whole ordeal."

"even after jace practically rescues them?"

"even then."

and then you couldn't help yourself, you had to know. "are you considering dissolving our betrothal in order to secure their support for you as queen?"

the silence that followed was thick.

rhaenyra was a thoughtful woman, and her eyes remained heavy on yours as she went over her words.

it caused your heart to quicken, realizing her silence as your answer.

if she hadn't been considering it she would've denied you by now. but, she hadn't. she was still thinking it through.

"the baratheons are much better as allies than foe," she decided. "it would do us good to secure our alliance with them."

"by putting their daughter on the iron throne next to jace just like they want?" you wondered with wide eyes before you caught yourself. you stood straight and stepped back as her face fell, reaching an arm out to stop you. "we've been betrothed for a decade."

"i know. sweet girl-"

"i'm in love with him," you said, stepping back further as she pushed off the desk and moved towards you. "and he's in love with me. you need to know that before you make whatever agreements and alliances you need to."

"darling," she sighed. "i cannot promise anything. this is politics. this is our lives, you know this."

"i do. i've heard my father's lectures on the importance of strong matches and sturdy alliances, which is why i'm not fighting you on it. i just need you to know what you're breaking before you break it," you said, voice as strong as it could be even as you reached for the handle. "let me know if he sends word."

she nodded, lips downturned as she watched you pull the door open. "i will."

"i'll see you at supper." and then you were gone.

the air of dragonstone shifted after that conversation. other than baela, luke, and rhaena, everyone had begun treating you different. the maids and guards and lords and ladies watched you with a sort of sadness, an odd sort of pity that made you want to crawl out of your skin or slap someone.

and they'd become more attentive to the baratheon girls.

lady elenda, you learned, was a boisterous woman who loved to speak about her daughters. namely cassandra. she'd show the servants her newest stitchings or announce how lovely she was with words, begging the girl to recite a poem of her own writing.

she did it morning noon and night.

at first, rhaenyra smiled and nodded as expected, clapping at the end of the poem or gasping at the beautiful new stitching.

the ladies of court were just as supportive, and so were the servant girls who would be in the room at the time.

baela would just scoff and roll her eyes, whispering to you: "you'd think she was ten, how excited her mother is that she can stitch."

"don't be rude," you whispered sharply even as a smile pulled at your lips. "maybe she just learned."

baela snorted into her glass, earning a few looks and a wide smile from lucerys and rhaena.

elenda narrowed her brows. "did our princesses have something to share?"

"we were discussing our own stitching projects," you answered. "they're a bit... different than sweet cassandra's, but important nonetheless."

the woman wasn't a fan of you, you figured immediately as her look sharpened more. "and what are your projects, if you don't mind my asking?"

"we make our own riding armor," you told her, leaning back in your chair and sipping your wine quietly as the surrounding individuals who were not from storm's end leaned in with excitement. "our father taught us when we were little. since dragonriding is a dangerous and quite adventurous activity we usually get rips and tears in the fabric, so it's easier to fix them ourselves anyways."

and then you made eye contact with elenda, a half smile on your lips.

"i even made prince jacaerys' for him. i've begun teaching him how to repair them, so i'm sure we'll continue our lessons upon his return since there will be plenty to repair."

cassandra's gaze dropped for a second before it sharpened again - something brittle in her pride, like cracked porcelain. she glanced at her mother before looking to you again.

"that's good of you," she said.

"it's quite impressive," rhaenyra chimed in with a smile your direction. "i am always impressed with the princess."

your smirk softened into a smile and you nodded. "thank you."

it was then that the door burst open and her personal guard came to her side, whispering shortly in her ear. she stood, meeting your eyes.

"jacaerys has returned."

that had the baratheons perking up. elenda grinned. "perfect timing! it'd be lovely for him to reunite with cassandra. it's been ages since they-"

"i think prince jacaerys could do with some rest before socializing," rhaenyra said with a shake of her head and a smile. "perhaps in the morning."

"oh, yes, of course," elenda said as you and the princess began to make your way out of the dining hall. when you passed her, she caught your arm. her fingers pressed into the skin just above your elbow, soft but insistent - like a mother restraining a child. it made your stomach churn. "dear, the princess said he needs rest. you should probably stay here and leave the boy be."

you pulled your arm from her and moved to rhaenyra's side in one swift motion, shaking your head. "he'll want to see me."

and then you both left, leaving elenda and cassandra with wide eyes and slack jaws.

baela shrugged, stabbing a piece of chicken and meeting the baratheon mother's eyes. "she's not wrong."

you raced to jace's chambers with rhaenyra on your heels, pushing the door open with an unmatched urgency.

jace turned immediately, brows raised high before his face lit up and he caught you around the waist, burrowing his face in your hair as he held you tightly. he hummed lowly, pressing a kiss to your neck and shoulder. "hello love."

"seven hells i missed you," you breathed out. you pulled back, hands cupping his jaw by his neck as you looked him over. "you're alright?"

he let out a laugh. "i'm better than alright. i'm victorious."

you rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "good. i'm proud of you, and i'm damn glad you're home."

he pulled you back into his arms, squeezing you tightly. "me too, love."

you only pulled away so that he could greet his mother, sporting a wide smile as usual. "i have a lot to speak with you about, mother. lord borros is a talker."

"i've heard," she said, matching his smile. "you've done well, sweet boy. rest for now and we will speak in the morn."

"no, i'm quite alright," he told her, waving the suggestion away. "if i could speak to you now, that'd be preferable. if you have the time, of course."

rhaenyra looked at you then, like she knew something you didn't before returning her eyes and smile to her son. "yes. i've got the time."

"wonderful," jace said before glancing back to you and reaching for you again. "give me a few minutes and then i'll come find you, yeah?"

"alright," you answered, unsurprised by his desire to get whatever it was he wanted to speak with his mother of over with before fully relaxing. you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "i'll be in my chambers."

"i'll be there in a few minutes," he promised, hand on your cheek as he directed your lips to his for a few seconds before pulling back with a cheeky smile.

"okay," you said, grinning as you backed to the door.

"okay," he answered.

you exchanged a nod with rhaenyra before disappearing into the hallway.

you trusted jace with everything you had. you trusted him more than anyone else in this world - more than your father, or either of the twins, or rhaenyra. you knew he loved you, that much was evident. but, you also knew of his dedication to his mother and the throne that would one day be his own. if she decided to mention potential matches to him you weren't entirely sure which way he would sway.

it was a conversation you would save for later.

after an adequate welcoming home.

"i missed you," you mumbled against his mouth, hands in his hair as he pushed you back into your room and closed the door behind himself. he grinned into the kiss, flicking the lock shut before wrapping an arm around your middle and pulling you into him.

"i missed you too, darling," he hummed, squeezing you tighter as you stepped with him back towards the sofa in front of the fire.

it didn't take much effort to push you onto it, the boy holding himself just barely over you as he shifted his attention from your lips to your neck.

"what'd you speak with your mother about?" you asked, breaths deepening as he bit down gently on a sensitive spot, quickly soothing the bruise with a swipe of his tongue before he pulled away to meet your eyes with the same mischievous grin that had won you over years prior.

"why should i tell you?" he hummed, capturing your lips before you could object, one hand sliding up from your waist to cup your jaw and keep you close.

"because i'm intrigued," you answered, breathing out a laugh as you dodged his next kiss even as he tried to pull you back in. "we had a very interesting conversation the other day, and i'm curious if she mentioned it to you."

he paused, hovering over you as his brows slowly furrowed. "what did you talk about?"

you held his eyes for several moments before breathing out: "you first."

he considered you, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips before he finally pushed off you and sat back against the arm of the sofa, gesturing you to him instantly. you sat up, leaning sideways against the back cushion and reaching for his hand which he immediately allowed you to take.

"i suspect that our alliance with the baratheons is a fragile thing," he began carefully, squeezing your hand absentmindedly. "lord borros is a prideful man. he spoke much of his family and their successes. he made mention of his belief that the baratheons could have been what we targaryens are had they been the ones with dragons."

"but they don't have dragons."

"exactly, and they never will," he answered with a nod. "still, it was slightly concerning to hear. i don't believe he holds true loyalty to my mother or to alicent in regards to our inevitable debate for the throne. whoever will cater to him the most will gain his support."

"his wife seems to function in a similar manner," you told him with a thin smile. "a bit of an obnoxious lady. she's very proud of her daughters."

he perked up a bit at that, as though he just recalled something. "have you met them?"

"her daughters?"

"yes. lord borros said good things. i thought maybe they could be friends to you, given that there aren't many our age on the island."

you breathed out a laugh, shaking your head as you looked down at your joined hands. "no, jace. i don't anticipate any friendships forming soon."

"why?" when you looked up at him he seemed genuinely curious, head tilted and brows furrowed at you. he squeezed your hand. "what makes you say that?"

you looked over his sharp targaryen features that resembled his mother and even your father in some ways, and then the soft pouty lips and dark brunette curls that belonged to his true blooded father. the deep brown of his eyes accented with an amethyst hue, and the perfectly dotted freckles sprayed across his nose.

and strangely, cassandra came to mind.

her delicately waved nearly black locks she braided with purple ribbons and the dots of blush she always applied to her cheekbones. she was a few years your senior and her bone structure showed it - a perfect button nose, high cheekbones, plump lips and a jawline that was defined just enough to be amazingly feminine.

she was an elegant little doe, just as she'd been trained to be. gentle and simple and the right amount of stubborn, unlike her mother.

and you deflated a bit, glancing away from jace to the fire beside you.

"no reason," you finally decided, mustering a small smile. "she just seems content with her sisters, as am i. i'm not desperate for friendship, jacaerys. i'm quite content with baela, rhaena, and luke."

"and me," he said, grinning as he pulled you towards him.

you laughed, nodding slightly and settling yourself comfortably on his lap. "yes, jace. if i've got you, i'm alright. no need for baratheon girls to fill my time."

"ditto," he hummed, hand on your neck again as he guided your lips back to his.

the next day lady elenda forced the two to meet, and neither you nor luke were invited.

"i don't like that woman," you muttered to the younger boy as you both strolled the grounds, hands clasped in front of you.

"neither do i," he breathed out with a shake of his head. "she's been trying to set me up with her other daughter, elliana, and i've reminded her of my betrothal to rhaena nearly a hundred times. i reckon jace is doing the same."

"except he can't," you said, kicking at the pebbles by your feet with a huff. "we're not betrothed."

"you're not?"

"not technically. my father's never actually declared it. your betrothal to rhaena happened before laena's death whereas mine has been left in daemon's hands. and, well, you know how he is."

lucerys watched you for several moments before nodding. "right. either way, i'm sure jace is fending off their advances."

"he'll do his best," you sighed decidedly.

luke's eyes remained on you longer than you appreciated before he opened his mouth to speak again, only cut off by the call of his older brother.

"can i join you?" jace asked as he came to luke's side with a grin.

you looked over at him with a thin smile, shrugging gently. "i'm actually meant to meet rhaena soon. how about you two practice some?"

"you don't want to watch?" jacaerys teased, moving around his brother to rest a hand on your arm.

you breathed out a half a laugh. "as much as i'd love to, i can't. how were the baratheons?"

"cassandra seems kind," he answered with a shrug. "her mother is as you said - very pushy. my mother seemed strangely interested in the whole thing. but, i'm glad to be done with it." he smiled at you. "you sure you don't want to watch us train?"

"i know where to find you if i do," you told him, smiling slightly as you patted his chest before passing him by towards your rooms. you looked to luke. "who knows, maybe rhaena will want to stop by."

the boy flushed red, earning laughs from both you and jace as you left.

"goodbye, love!" jace called, brows furrowed slightly at your swift absence.

you waved over your shoulder and moved quick to your rooms.

that night at dinner things were as they'd been for weeks.

you sat between jace and baela, whispering quiet quips to the latter as elenda began her daily bragging. jace, a virgin to her tales, seemed too interested, which made the baratheon women smile widely.

"that is quite impressive," he said with a nod. "you are quite the poet, lady cassandra."

"why thank you, my prince," the dark haired girl answered, eyelashes too long as she blinked and smiled at your boy. he returned her smile, your heart pounding once in your chest as you looked between them.

it had to be instinct, but your hand went straight to his upper thigh, running from his knee to his inner thigh quick and then slow, which earned his immediate attention.

his eyes were wide and his pupils dramatically dilated as they met yours, head tilted in question as the corner of his mouth lifted and then fell again. his voice was quiet when he spoke: "did you need something, darling?"

"nope," you said, holding your fork with your free hand and poking at the food on your plate. when you looked back at him you smiled sideways. "just missed having you next to me."

he hummed, catching your hand as it slid back up his thigh and holding it there. "i missed this too."

you held his eyes for several moments before flashing a quicker smile, squeezing his thigh, and returning to your plate while bringing your hand back to your own lap.

you glanced up to meet cassandra's frustratingly gold eyes, only looking away to see her mother and rhaenyra stuck in a stare off. baela nudged your side, nodding at the scene before elenda finally cleared her throat.

"prince jacaerys, your mother tells me you're a wonderful dancer," she said, looking to the boy with an expectant smile. "how about you and cassandra indulge a bit? this music is excellent."

for the first time that night, you noticed the music. it was a common tune, the dance that went with it known by nearly all who resided in westeros. you exchanged a look with jace before he swallowed and turned his attention to the black haired woman.

"does lady cassandra dance?" he asked.

"she knows enough, but not as well as you i'm sure," her mother answered. "she could use a teacher as skilled as you, sweet prince."

you cringed, jace's eyes flicking back to you before he nodded. "yes, i'm sure princess y/n and i could demonstrate. it's an easy enough dance-"

"how about you simply dance with cassandra? cut out the middleman, if you would. the princess needn't assist where her assistance isn't needed."

you met her eyes this time, mouth thin and eyes sharp as steel as your features schooled into a look that rhaenyra could only describe as daemon-like. jace reached for your hand, but you pulled away, standing from your seat with an all-too-polite smile and shooting a look to rhaenyra and then to the lady baratheon. "if you'll excuse me."

and then as you stepped away from a watching jacaerys cassandra stood, rounding the table and walking past you to stand opposite the boy. "if you don't mind, my prince, i'd be happy to dance with you."

you heard baela's scoff as you walked away, but you ignored it, and you ignored whatever jace's answer was.

and since he didn't follow you, you had a pretty good idea of what it was.

you didn't have it in you to socialize the next few days, resolving to stay in your chambers instead. baela and rhaena stopped by several times, but you insisted they go about their days.

"tell rhaenyra i'm sick," you said when they first came to fetch you for supper.

"are you?" rhaena asked with a raised brow.

you let out a heavy breath. "to my stomach, rhaena."

jace attempted to see you, but you never opened the door.

"love, open up."

"i'm sick, jace, i don't want to infect you." you pressed yourself against the door so he could hear you, and so he wouldn't try to bang the thing open.

he sighed. "bullshit, open up."

"just let me rest, i'll be out tomorrow."

"darling, honestly-"

"leave me be, jacaerys."

and then, to your utter surprise and disappointment, he did.

it was another day before he returned, skipping the formality of knocking and simply unlocking the door and pushing it open. you shrieked, pulling your comforter over yourself as he locked it behind him. "jace, what are you doing here?"

"why are you being like this?" he demanded quietly, brows knitted and arms crossed over his chest. "i've been gone for weeks and now you won't see me?"

you sighed. "jace, i don't feel well."

"that's shit and you know it too," he said, shaking his head.

you narrowed your gaze, dropping your arms back to your lap. "it's not!"

"you're not sick, y/n."

"i didn't say i was."

"so, what, you don't feel well emotionally? you don't like having me back?" he asked, brows knitted in a way that suddenly made you feel like a terrible person for insinuating such a thing.

"of course i like having you back," you said, groaning slightly. "i just don't like everyone else having you back too. the baratheon ladies to be specific."

"so you avoid me?"

"so i wallow in my pain and acceptance that your mother is going to marry you off to her," you corrected sharply, glaring at him openly now. "and you know it too. our relations with the baratheons are poor because of their pride and the only thing to fix it is to tie them to us permanently. to put one of their own on the throne beside you. you said it yourself, they will not take the side that does not benefit them."

he stared at you, eyes narrowed and jaw locked as he considered his words. "is that what you think?"

"that's what you said," you told him.

"you know what? you're right," he said, stepping towards you and letting one knee rest on the mattress. "that is what i said. because it's true. they won't do anything unless it be for their own self gain. but when did i ever say that that required us to indulge them?"

you sighed, shaking your head. "you didn't, but your mother-"

"i spoke with her," he told you. "she suggested the possibility. she told me that you understood. that you allowed her to make whatever decision was necessary for her throne."

you sat up straighter, shaking your head again. "that's not exactly true-"

"do you want to know what i said?" he asked, tilting his head at you.

you paused, watching him breathe deeply in and out of his nose before nodding. "yes."

"i told her no. i refused the thought." and suddenly your breath was gone. "i told her that she could take anything she wanted from me, my name, my dragon, my crown, but she couldn't take you. i listen to and abide by every rule she puts before me and the one thing i demand in return is you. and still, you avoid me. you need all my attention one moment and disappear the next."

that had you standing in seconds, running a hand through your insanely messy hair as you rounded the bed towards him.

"jace," you mumbled, reaching for him.

"don't," he said, stepping back.

"jacaerys," you said again, grabbing him by the biceps and pulling yourself towards him. one hand slipped up to cup his jaw as a small frown pulled at your lips. "i didn't want to step on your toes. your mother means the world to you and you are loyal to her to the end. i wanted you to make whatever choice was required of you."

"i'm loyal to you first," he whispered quietly, head falling forward to rest against yours, and your heart skipped a beat.

you reached your arms up to wrap around his neck, hugging him tightly to you and he just melted into it, his arms winding around your waist snugly. "i'm yours, jacaerys," you told him, pressing a kiss to his neck. "i'm yours. always."

"good," he mumbled into your hair.

that night you attended supper, brighter than you had been in weeks and clinging to jace's arm like your life depended on it.

when you sat, baela shot you a grin. "i see you two made up."

"he wore me down," you teased, jace rolling his eyes as he pulled your chair out for you. as you sat you felt nearly every pair of eyes on you, and as you glanced towards the head of the table you noticed both rhaenyra and your father, surprisingly, watching you and jace with the slightest of smiles.

"cassandra has written a new poem," elenda said, earning an amusing exchange of exasperated looks between you, baela, rhaena, and luke. jace knitted his brows and smiled at you, tilting his head in interest.

"this is a reoccurring thing," you whispered, squeezing his knee as he nodded in understanding.

"four poems in four days," rhaenrya mused with what you'd deemed her 'political princess smile' and a short nod. "impressive. you must have a lot of time on your hands, cassandra."

"enough to work my art," the girl answered, adjusting her posture as her gaze flicked to you. "i know dragonstone is quite busy, but i appreciate the reprieve that the oratory arts offer."

"i'm sure. though, i can't say many of us can relate to this," rhaenyra said, her eyes flicking to you and jace. "we prefer a different sort of reprieve. my future daughter by law, for example, spends many of her evenings in the sky."

"yes, she's told of her dragonriding rendezvous," elenda hummed with a thin smile your direction. "how she created her own uniform."

"she created mine as well," jacaerys added with grin.

"so she mentioned," elenda answered. "though we baratheons do not have dragons, we do our best to stay entertained and experienced."

"i'm sure y/n would be happy to give you an experience with a dragon, should you like," rhaenyra offered, glancing your way with a widening smile.

"her dragon is very eventempered," daemon said. "she claimed him when she was only ten and one. vermithor, the bronze fury."

cassandra's eyes widened. "oh! well, i've no need to ride a dragon. i'm quite content with my poems."

daemon snickered into his glass as he took a sip. "not as brazen as your father, are you?"

you breathed out a laugh, thankful for your father's sudden but welcomed return.

"i'm sorry," baela said, turning to rhaenyra with knitted brows and a wicked smile. "did i hear you correctly? did you call her your future daughter by law? are they getting married?"

it was then that lady elenda and her four daughters caught on as well, cassandra looking to the younger three with knitted brows as they looked to their mother.

"oh, yes," daemon said, sitting back in his seat. "we were going to announce that. yes, prince jacaerys will be wedding my daughter."

"when?" cassandra asked quickly, her eyes widening like she hadn't meant to say what she did.

"as quickly as possible," jace answered, holding your hand beneath the table and grinning. "i've been waiting years to call her my wife. i have no desire to wait any longer."

elenda was staring daggers at rhaenyra, whose eyes remained on her plate despite the growing smile to her lips.

"congratulations," cassandra managed, offering you the simplest of smiles.

you nodded, squeezing jace's hand and smiling widely. "thank you."

"well, i meant to announce tonight that we are leaving back to storm's end on the morrow," elenda said with a nod. "now that the rebellion is complete we are safe to return."

"yes, we're very lucky that prince jacaerys sped that up for you all so you could go home," you said, maintaining your smile. elenda narrowed her eyes.

"yes. thank you, prince jacaerys."

the boy lifted a glass of wine to his lips with a grin, nodding. "anytime."

eventually, rhaenyra steered the conversation elsewhere, though you and jace maintained your own semi-privately with your knees brushing and hands clasping whenever there weren't forks in them.

"thank you," you whispered to him as you gazed up with a smile. "for choosing me."

he shrugged, nudging your foot with his own. "there wasn't ever really a choice."

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

thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

[gracie-eilish]

HAPPY PRIDE GRACIEEEE💜💙💚💛🧡❤️

I need 6 and 20 with bestfriend!billie showing r! that she can make her cum harder than her exs

pride prompts!! 🌈✨🏳️‍🌈

happy pride

6. open those pretty eyes for me

20. feels better when a girl does it, huh?

warnings: smut. duh. r!receiving

an: billie and i are in the same “grade” (im a few months younger than her) so i just thought i’d let y’all know she would have had red roots her senior year of college, if she chose that route, and that does things to me.

prompt list

banner by @kodaswrld

billie’s peaceful night home alone was interrupted by the sound of her roommate slamming the front door closed and loudly whining and groaning before even fully taking their shoes off.

she perked up from where she lay on the couch to see you fiddling with your crossbody bag, fumbling with it trying to get it off. followed by you fighting with the buckles on your shoes, throwing the first one to the side followed by the second one a whole minute later. finally your sweater came off and was thrown onto the counter before you stomped into the living room to throw yourself onto the couch.

“well hello to you too!” billie snorted at your little temper tantrum.

“NOT now, billie.” your voice was muffled by a pillow, but the bite was still there. she raised her hands in mock surrender before settling back into her spot to continue watching her show-

“are you even gonna ask what happened?”

ok. so not finishing this episode tonight, billie thought to herself.

“i’m guessing the date didn’t go too well?” she said.

“it was HORRIBLE!! i mean dictionary definition horrible. he was late, he sat on his phone while we waited for a table because he thought I had made the reservation, he barely asked me any questions, scarfed his food down like a dog, i mean should i continue?”

billie bit back a laugh, this did sound like a disaster but you were still her best friend and she felt for you.

“well did you hook up?” she knew the answer to that.

“of course we hooked up, what the fuck billie? if he’s gonna be this bad at dinner, i should at least get sex out of the night.” billie couldn’t argue with that logic, nodding in agreement.

“okay so spill!! tell me everything!!!” she poked at your arm.

you shifted over on the couch to sit criss cross, in front of her.

“ok so, as expected,”

“he’s a terrible kisser,” you both said in unison.

“correct. horrible, genuinely don’t think he has control over his tongue.” billie snorted at that.

you then proceeded to explain the comically horrible sex you had with this man. he couldn’t find your clit, couldn’t find your g-spot, took forever for him to stick it in, and then he came in like five minutes.

“and he didn’t even offer to drive me home!!! i had to PAY FOR AN UBER. after that monstrosity of a date. how pathetic is that?!” billie put her hand on your shoulder, rubbing softly.

“i mean seriously!! how difficult is it to find someone who can be normal, actually good at sex and dare i say, slightly romantic?!”

billie furrowed her brows, thinking for a second. she watched you run your fingers through your hair, and let your palms rest on your cheeks, holding your face up.

“what?” you asked suddenly self conscious of her deep gaze.

“you’re bi right?” you nodded.

“have you ever been with a girl? like on a date or a hook up or somethin?”

“um no. not really. but that doesn’t mean anything!”

“no no no, it doesn’t. i’m not going down that route, you’re still so valid in your sexuality. i was just gonna say, i think you need to go out with a girl. you’ve only been dating men yet you’re attracted to women too!! i think you need one night for a woman to blow your mind and your standards are gonna change completely.”

“oh yeah? and where is this magical woman who’s gonna blow my mind??” you asked scoffing, standing up from the couch to head to the kitchen.

“billie?” you called from the kitchen, her silence now noticeable to you.

“yeah?”

“did you hear me?”

“yeah i heard you.”

“oh.. um okay.”

the silence in the room was thick. even as you opened the fridge to grab a pitcher of water for a drink, the door opening sounded like a rusty gate creaking and the water in your cup, like the ocean.

“y/n, baby?”

baby. that was new…

“yeah, billie?”

“c’mere.”

carefully you put the pitcher back in the fridge and set your cup on the counter for later. her head was turned to the side slightly, to watch you as you walked back over to the couch. awkwardly, you stood in front of her, waiting for her to say something.

“do you trust me?”

“bils, of course i trust you.”

“then let me help you..”

you were confused. you sat down on the ottoman next to the couch, placing a hand on her knee.

“help me? how are you gonna help me?”

with that she lurched forward, kissing you. you were shocked at first, eyes wide open, but soon melted into the feeling.

billie pulled back slightly but was brought right back in when your hand grabbed her cheeks. billie reached out holding your waist, helping you onto her lap, straddling her thighs. only when oxygen was needed did you both pull away.

“open those pretty eyes for me,” she whispered, chuckling softly at the way your eyes stayed closed long after the kiss ended. you were so sure this was a dream and didn’t want to wake up.

when you did, you were met with billie’s smiling face, a little smug, but mostly proud and giddy.

“hi.”

“hi.”

“still want me to help you out?” you nodded furiously, letting her pick you up and wrap your legs around her waist, carrying you to her bedroom.

with a flop and a muffled giggle, you landed on your back, billie hovering overtop of you

“been dreaming about this for so long,” billie’s words were slurred and muffled as she started to kiss down your jaw and neck. you let out a gasp when she (quickly) found your sweet spot…. she had to try so hard not to let her smugness show.

you sat up a bit to let billie’s wandering hands unzip your dress from the back, pulling the strapless dress down your body. she sat back on her feels for a second marveling at your body, clad in a matching red lace set. her brows furrowed and a small pout formed on her lips at the thought of some man seeing you like this tonight and probably not batting an eyelash at how perfect you looked.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you teased, nudging her with your knee.

“shut up, you.” she dove back into kissing you, your hands in her hair, hers roaming around your now practically bare skin.

quickly the two of you worked to remove her own layers. her t-shirt ending up on the floor, and a mix of giggles filled the air when her jeans zipper got caught. finally the two of you laid together, bare.

“god, you’re so perfect,” the way billie’s brows furrowed you would think she was about to cry.

you blushed at her compliment as she kissed your cheek before she got up from the bed. she returned donning her strap, making your eyes go wide and your mouth water.

“i’ll go slow,” she whispered. with a soft, caring hand she parted your thighs letting them fall open for her. she slotted herself between them, grabbing the dildo and letting it collect some wetness before she lined herself up.

“you ready?” you nodded.

carefully she pushed herself in, slow as not to jostle you. your heart melted at how gentle she was being, after all you were starting to get a bit sore from your endeavors with your delightful date earlier.

“i’m all the way in. do you need a second? or you feel good?” she pushed some hair from your face, letting some of her body weight rest on top of you.

“m’good. please move bils,” your voice came out breathy and choppy making billie chuckle softly. she propped herself up over you on her elbows, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back into kissing, making you moan out and throw your head back.

“yeahh baby?? you feeling good doll face?” she teased watching your face contort in pleasure.

“yeah,” billie could have cum from the way you moaned out your confirmation. breathy and whiney, just for her.

“feels better when a girl does it huh?” she was so smug, smirking when you lifted your head up to playfully glare at her.

“just make me cum idiot,” you giggled trying to hide your flushing cheeks.

“oh i plan to, my dear. just you wait sweet thing…”

an: i’m sorry if these aren’t super smutty, i’m still getting the hang of it and i only have so many moves i’ve written about so far😂😭 i promise these will get better over the month, just bare with me🥺

[yuujispunches]

Silent echoes ~ T.I.

Pairing: Toge Inumaki x deaf!Reader

Summary: transferring schools on your second years is never easy when you’re deaf, even less if you’re a sorcerer but maybe a quiet white haired boy makes it just a bit easier.

CW (content warning): deaf reader, this is the first time I’m writing a reader with a disability so I hope I made it justice (if there’s something that you find inaccurate or want to correct me please feel free to do so, I’d love to learn more), text in bold is sign language, purely fluff, maybe some light cursing.

AN: Hi guys! I’ve been out for a few days but now I’m back, I still have a few exams left but I have a few half-written works that I think I’ll be able to post these days until I get back to the requests 🤍 English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry if there’re any mistakes. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Requests are open so feel free to send yours! (you can check the list of characters I write for on my pinned post)

Masterlist

You weren’t expecting the front gate of the Tokyo school to creak like that, the sound vibrating under your fingertips as you slowly pushed it open.

It groaned like an old man getting out of a deep chair, slow and reluctant. You adjusted the strap of your duffel bag on your shoulder and stepped inside the grounds, boots crunching over gravel. The ancient stone paths seemed too peaceful for a place that trained sorcerers to fight curses.

This wasn’t your first jujutsu school, but it felt like it might be your last. A second-year transfer wasn’t exactly common. But you weren’t exactly common either. If this wasn’t your place you were almost ready to give up.

A cursed technique that was strong enough to draw attention. A talent for barrier crafting. A deaf sorcerer.

You glanced at the buildings ahead, tall and traditional, backed by thick forest and quiet sky. It looked like a shrine crossed with a private academy. Peaceful, at first glance. But you could feel it. The pressure in the air. Subtle. Ancient. Like the whole school was breathing quietly, waiting to see if you’d fit in.

You adjusted your hearing aids out of habit. They were mostly useless, but familiar. Your own quiet ritual.

A tall girl with green hair neatly tied in a high ponytail and glasses leaned against one of the pillars by the entry, arms crossed. She noticed you before you noticed her. She had a wooden staff slung over her shoulder and an eyebrow raised like she wasn’t sure if she liked you yet.

Next to her, a… panda? You blinked, utterly confused.

Yes. That was definitely a panda. Waving enthusiastically as he stood beside two other people that were also looking in your direction.

And off to the side, standing under a sakura tree, was a boy with soft white hair, a high collar that reached his nose, and a slouch that said "I’m either incredibly tired or terminally over it."

He was watching you. As if he was analysing your every move.

You stopped at the top of the steps. Three students. All second-years, like you. This was your class.

The tall girl pushed off the wall and approached with confident strides.

“Are you the new student?” She asked, blunt but not unfriendly. Her mouth moved clearly. Thankfully, she didn’t mumble.

You nodded quickly in response.

She pointed to herself. “Maki Zenin. Staff specialist. I’m the one who’ll be beating you up in training.”

You gave her a nervous look and signed. “Can’t wait.”* Then mouthed: “Nice to meet you.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. “Huh. You’re deaf?”

You nodded again, slow and deliberate. You were used to this part. It usually went one of two ways: awkward curiosity or weird overcompensation. But Maki just tilted her head, thoughtful.

“Huh. That’s kinda cool.” She said, like you’d just told her your hobby was blacksmithing. “You read lips?”

You gave her a thumbs-up.

“Nice. Hope you can read ‘ow’ too.” She added with a smirk. “Panda! Get over here!”

The panda in question, still surreal if they asked you, came bounding up the stairs like a golden retriever in a martial arts gi.

“I’m Panda!” He declared proudly.

You signed. “Fitting name.” A shy smile playing on your lips.

He tilted his head, then tapped his chin and signed back with surprising clarity. “You sign?”

Your eyebrows lifted. “You do?”

“Of course.” Panda said, puffing out his chest. “I’m a modern beast. Accessibility matters.”

You laughed. Not out loud, just the air in your chest catching and releasing in a way you hadn’t felt all morning.

Then you felt it again. Eyes on you.

The white-haired boy hadn’t moved from his spot under the tree. He stood still, hands in his pockets, collar obscuring the bottom half of his face.

Maki followed your gaze. “That’s Toge Inumaki. He doesn’t talk much.”

You looked between the two of them. “Shy?”

“No.” Maki said, grinning like she was in on the best joke in the world. “Dangerous.”

Toge gave a small wave from under the cherry blossoms. His fingers move. He was clumsily fingerspelling. “Nice to meet you.”

It was slow, a little clumsy. You caught the hesitation in his gestures, like he wasn’t used to signing but had tried to learn anyway.

“Nice to meet you too.” You signed back, smiling. “Are you learning?”

He nodded and quickly picked up a small notebook from his gym bag. Quickly writing something on it.

“I’m trying to. Just know a few basics now.”

You tilted your head and offered a thumbs-up. His eyes crinkled slightly above his collar, it looked like he was smiling. He pulled his collar down slightly, just enough so you could see his lips.

“Salmon.”

You blinked. Then looked at Maki.

“He does that.” She said, unbothered. “Cursed speech. Every word he says has power, so he mostly sticks to food names. Don’t worry, you’ll learn his weird code eventually.”

“So he can’t speak?” You asked.

“He can. Just shouldn’t.” Panda chimed in. “If he says ‘stop,’ you stop. If he says ‘explode,’ well…” He shrugged. “You get it.”

You watched Toge again. There was something fascinating about him, he was silent by choice, unlike you. You wondered what it felt like to have your words come with that much power.

And if that power made him lonely.

Maki slung an arm around your shoulder. “C’mon, new kid. We’ve got a combat assessment in fifteen, and I need a warm-up target.”

You smirked. “You’re assuming you’ll land a hit.”

She grinned wider. “I like you already.”

You turned back to glance at Toge once more, but he was already walking behind you, a respectful distance away, hands tucked in his pockets, calm and unreadable.

The silent one.

You adjusted your duffel bag and stepped further into your new life.

——————————————————————————

Combat training at Tokyo Jujutsu High was nothing like your old school.

For one, there was a talking panda throwing trees. For another, Maki hit like a semi truck.

You’d barely finished stretching when she took the first swing. It was fast, precise, and clearly not meant to hurt you, just to test your reflexes.

You dodged. Barely.

“Nice.” Maki said, adjusting her grip on her staff. “You’re not just cosplay.”

You responded with a sharp jab of your own, crafting a minor barrier to redirect her staff mid-swing. She blinked as her weapon ricocheted off your technique, harmless.

“Oh.” She said, grinning. “You’re one of those.”

The sparring continued, and though Maki landed most of the hits, you managed to keep her on her toes. She liked that. You could tell by the way she started calling out playful insults mid-fight. You read her lips well enough, though a few curse words were new to your mental vocabulary.

Meanwhile, Panda stood on the sidelines clapping like a proud dad at a T-ball game.

But it was Toge you kept catching in your peripheral vision.

He sat cross-legged by the edge of the mat, notebook on his lap, watching you fight like he was studying a language. Quiet, observant, unreadable. But his eyes followed every movement, especially yours.

After the session, while you and Maki flopped onto the cool grass, sweaty and bruised, Toge stood and made his way over.

He held out a small carton of strawberry milk.

You blinked. Accepted it and signed. “Thank you.”

He nodded, crouched beside you, and opened his notebook. He flipped to a page that had a few messy attempts at fingerspelling drawn across it. Underneath, in neat block letters, were the words.

“You’re strong. Good reflexes.”

You signed, “You write compliments in advance?”

He shrugged, a little sheepishly. Then signed slowly, “Practice.”

Maki leaned over, squinting at the page. “He’s been practicing for weeks. Since Gojo told us you were coming.”

That caught you off guard.

Toge glanced sideways at her, then down again, pretending to brush dirt off his page.

“For me?” You signed, eyebrows raised.

He hesitated… then nodded.

Your cheeks flushed faintly. You quickly looked down and opened your milk carton. “You didn’t have to,” you mouthed, but you weren’t sure he caught it.

Panda wandered over, plopped down on the grass, and threw an arm over Toge’s shoulder like an oversized teddy bear. “He was worried you wouldn’t like him and that you would feel lonely here.”

Your gaze flicked to Toge, surprised. He didn't look at you, but his ears were a little pink.

Maki smirked. “He’s a big softie. Doesn’t talk much, but he makes up for it with snacks and overthinking.”

Toge muttered “Mustard leaf” dryly.

Panda gasped. “How dare you.”

You were still trying not to smile as you drained the strawberry milk. The three of them were strange, intense, and chaotic in a way that made your head spin.

But you didn’t feel like an outsider here. Not exactly. You were used to people treating you like someone they had to accommodate. But this was different.

Toge had practiced for you. Weeks in advance. You weren’t sure how to say thank you in a way that really conveyed it.

So instead, you tapped his arm gently and signed, “Want to train with me tomorrow?”

He looked up at you, and for the first time, you saw it. A tiny smile hidden just behind his collar, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He nodded.

Then raised his hand. “Tuna.”

You tilted your head. “That’s a yes?”

Panda nodded sagely. “Tuna is yes. Salmon is neutral. Mustard leaf is no. They vary a bit sometimes but we keep a glossary, don’t worry.”

“Don’t show her the glossary yet.” Maki added with a grin. “Half the fun is guessing.”

——————————————————————————

The next few days fell into a rhythm. Training, meals, group assignments. You got used to the quiet way Toge lingered near you without saying a word. At first, you thought he was shy. But you quickly learned that that wasn’t the case, he was just… intentional.

You taught him a few more signs each day. He was a fast learner, surprisingly expressive once his hands got used to the motion.

In turn, he began slipping you notes during class or mealtimes. They started simple:

“Your barrier work is cool.”

“Nice form during drills today.”

“I think Panda is hiding snacks in the broom closet.”

Eventually, they got bolder:

“Your laugh is pretty.”

“I like sitting next to you.”

“Can I train with you again tomorrow, please?”

The last note had a tiny sketch of his signature rice ball on the corner. You stared at it a little too long before answering yes.

You found yourself waiting for his gaze during class. His quiet attention had stopped feeling like observation, it felt like companionship.

Toge didn’t use his voice often, but when he did, it was in carefully controlled bursts during combat. You’d seen it once, during a joint exercise, when a simulated curse got too close to Maki. Toge whispered, “Sleep” and the thing crumpled in place like a marionette with cut strings.

You felt the shiver of cursed energy run down your spine even from twenty meters away.

And yet, that same person passed you a note the next day that said:

“Do you like horror movies?”

You answered with a drawing of a popcorn bucket and a terrified stick figure under a blanket.

——————————————————————————

By the end of the week, everyone noticed.

Panda teased you both mercilessly. Maki tried not to smirk when she caught you “accidentally” sitting closer to Toge during lunch. You didn’t mind. It felt… safe. Earnest.

You hadn’t expected to make a friend so quickly.

You definitely hadn’t expected the friend to be the quietest boy in school, or that he’d make you feel more heard than anyone else ever had.

——————————————————————————

Your favorite part of the day quickly became the late afternoons.

Not the mornings when Panda was too chipper for someone with paws, or the chaotic training hours when Maki hit you with her staff "in the name of love." No, it was those golden post-mission, post-lunch hours when the world seemed to slow down, when you and Toge found yourselves alone on the school rooftop or beneath the shade of the courtyard trees.

He always brought snacks. Always.

Today it was a small box of taiyaki that was warm, slightly squished fish-shaped pastries stuffed with red bean paste. He handed you one silently, settled down beside you on the bench, and opened his notebook again.

“This one’s my favorite. I hope you like it.”

You took a bite and smiled. “I do.”

He watched you eat for a second, then scribbled something else.

“You always make the same face when you eat something good.”

You blinked. “What face?”

He looked at you with a straight face, then exaggerated the way your eyes softened and your mouth turned up just slightly. He looked more like a confused cat than anything, but you got the idea.

You nudged his shoulder, laughing soundlessly. Then you signed. “You’re observant.”

He tapped his head. “I have to be.”

You nodded slowly. “So do I.”

The breeze picked up, rustling the pages of his notebook and your hair. Neither of you moved to speak or sign for a while. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that felt like sitting inside a favorite book.

You watched a crow land on the fence nearby, tilting its head. It cawed twice, then flapped away. Toge scribbled again.

“If I had to guess your technique, I’d say it’s about control. You’re calm. Measured. Your barriers are precise.”

You read it twice.

“You really do notice a lot more than you let on.” You signed.

He shrugged. “Can’t talk. Have to listen.”

You nodded. Then tapped your chest gently, signing. “Same.”

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t a huge breakthrough. But something in his eyes softened, like he hadn’t realized, until now, just how much you might understand each other.

——————————————————————————

Over the next few weeks, the bond you shared quietly deepened.

Toge stopped using his notebook as much. Instead, he fingerspelled more, started learning compound signs, even mimicked your casual gestures when you were explaining something. You caught him practicing behind buildings sometimes, watching his own hands carefully like they were puzzle pieces.

You started noticing his small habits too. Like how he always handed you the better snack first. How he tilted his head slightly when he was confused, like a curious puppy. Or how he always lingered just long enough to walk beside you, but never too close.

He respected your space. But somehow, he always ended up inside it anyway.

Once, during a weekend spar, you twisted your ankle landing a jump. It wasn’t serious but it did suck. Maki was busy being impressed with her own move, and Panda was trying to replicate it with a broomstick.

Toge crouched beside you immediately. “Hurt?”

You signed back. “A little.”

He hesitated, then tapped his fingers against your shin, just a gentle brush. “Permission?”

You nodded.

He pressed a small ice pack into your hand, then unwrapped a bandage from his jacket pocket and began wrapping your ankle with careful precision.

“You always carry medical supplies?”

He signed back. “You always fall on your face?”

You scowled, and he gave you that slight crinkle-eyed smile again.

Touch wasn’t something you usually allowed from people. But Toge wasn’t pushing. He offered, waited, and moved with a kind of softness that felt rare in your world of curses and chaos.

That night, you found another note tucked into your locker:

“You’re the strongest person I’ve met who doesn’t need to shout about it.”

You stared at it for a long time, folded it carefully, and slipped it into your sketchbook.

——————————————————————————

One evening, after dinner, you found Toge sitting alone under the sakura trees again, legs crossed, notebook unopened in his lap. The blossoms hadn’t bloomed yet, but the air smelled like something was about to begin.

You approached, sat beside him wordlessly. For a while, neither of you signed.

Then you took out a small whiteboard from your backpack. A gift from one of your old teachers. You rarely used it, but today felt different.

You wrote:

“I used to think silence meant loneliness. Now it feels like peace.”

He read it, then took the marker.

“Same.”

You smiled, then added:

“You make it easier.”

He paused. Then signed very slowly, very deliberately. “You make me brave.”

Your heart did a little summersault that you tried very hard to ignore. He was looking straight at you when he said it with his hands, with his eyes, with every careful inch of him.

You wanted to say something equally meaningful.

So, naturally, you signed. “You still owe me more taiyaki.”

He looked at you flatly. Then raised a finger. “Tuna.”

Yes.

——————————————————————————

By the time March rolled in, the cherry trees began blooming and you had developed a rhythm with Toge that was so natural it almost scared you.

He’d sit next to you during study periods and help quiz you with flashcards using only signs. You’d write small jokes or doodles in his notebook when he left it open. You began teasing him more. Light sarcasm, exaggerated gestures, drawing little hearts on his pages just to watch his ears turn pink.

He retaliated by hiding rice balls in your locker.

Somehow, this quiet, slow thing between you felt more real than any rushed conversation you’d had with anyone before.

——————————————————————————

One night, you were both walking back from a short mission. Clearing a minor curse near the outskirts of the city. Nothing dangerous, but it had taken longer than expected. The sky was a soft indigo, painted with stars.

You stopped at a vending machine outside the station. Toge pointed to a can of hot cocoa. You nodded. He got two.

As you waited for the train, sipping quietly side by side, you signed. “Do you ever wish you could talk?”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then replied. “Not around you.” You blinked. He added. “You listen. I don’t need to speak.”

And just like that, your heart did another flip.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t expect to get paired with Toge for your first real joint mission without supervision.

“Low-grade curse.” Maki said, tossing you a file. “Warehouse in Saitama. Should be easy. No fatalities yet, but the locals keep reporting headaches, nausea, and weird dreams.”

Panda leaned over your shoulder and whispered, “Probably just expired miso.”

Toge raised a hand and signed. “Dream curses are unpredictable.”

Yaga nodded. “That’s why I want two of you. You’ll watch each other’s backs.”

You glanced at Toge. He glanced back, then gave a quiet nod. “Tuna.”

The train ride was quiet, just the two of you watching the blur of city lights pass the windows. You didn’t need to fill the silence. Sometimes, just having him there was enough. You passed your time sketching out a barrier formation on your phone while Toge wrote in his notebook.

He tapped your sleeve and held up a page.

“Do you get nervous before missions?”

You hesitated. Then nodded. He nodded back, like he understood more than he could say.

“Me too.”

You smiled. Then signed. “I’m glad it’s you.”

He looked at you for a second longer than necessary, then nodded.

“Me too.”

——————————————————————————

The warehouse was bigger than expected.

It stood like an abandoned skeleton, sagging under the weight of time. Vines crawled up the rusted siding. The inside was dust and shadows, rows of cracked crates and broken forklifts.

You both stepped in carefully, staying close. Toge held a finger to his lips, not that you needed the gesture, but it made you smile anyway.

You could feel it, the cursed energy hanging thick in the air, like damp fog clinging to your skin.

It didn’t take long to find the source.

A spirit, bloated and lopsided, slithered out from behind an old pillar. Its body was stitched together from fragments of nightmares, faces overlapping, eyes blinking from the wrong places. It let out a screech that scraped against your bones.

You moved fast. Barriers snapped into place like instinct, shielding Toge as he darted left. He threw a handful of kunai and signed. “Distract it.”

You nodded and activated your formation, drawing its attention with a flash of cursed light. The creature lunged, teeth bared.

Toge’s voice cracked the air like thunder. “Don’t move.”

The curse’s body locked mid-lunge, frozen. Its limbs twitched, then buckled. You didn’t hesitate, your barrier needles spiraled into its chest, and with one final shriek, it evaporated into smoke.

You were breathing hard when the dust settled, your body humming with the aftermath of adrenaline.

Toge touched your shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, then grinned and signed. “Nice timing.”

He signed back. “Nice aim.”

And for a moment, the warehouse didn’t feel haunted anymore. Just quiet. Just… calm.

——————————————————————————

Back at the school, Toge was quieter than usual, even for him.

You found him the next morning sitting under the sakura trees again, sipping tea from a paper cup. You joined him, tugging your hoodie tighter against the morning chill.

He passed you a folded note before you could sign anything.

“I was scared I might hurt you yesterday.”

You looked at him. He didn’t meet your eyes.

You wrote back on your whiteboard.

“You didn’t. You helped me.”

He finally looked up.

“You always help me.” You added, then signed it again. Slowly. So he could watch your hands.

Toge hesitated, then nodded. His fingers hovered like he wanted to say something more but instead, he reached into his jacket and handed you something wrapped in paper.

You blinked. Unwrapped it.

It was a taiyaki. This one was warm, fresh. Custard this time.

You signed and smiled brightly at him. “Did you make this?”

He nodded. Your heart did that annoying flutter thing again.

You wrote:

“You’re getting dangerous. I might fall for you if you keep feeding me.”

You meant it as a joke.

You didn’t expect his ears to turn pink again. Or the way his hands stilled completely in his lap, unsure.

Then, slowly, he took your whiteboard and wrote:

“Would that be bad?”

You stared.

You stared so long he almost erased it but you covered his hand with yours before he could.

“No” You signed softly. “It don’t think it would be bad.”

——————————————————————————

After that, things shifted.

Not in a dramatic, firework way. But in the little things.

He started sitting closer. You found excuses to brush your fingers against his sleeve. He’d bring two drinks instead of one without asking. You’d start signing jokes during lectures just to see him hide his laughter behind his collar.

You still hadn’t said it. Not really.

But it was there.

One evening, Maki cornered you behind the training grounds. “Just kiss him already.”

You choked on your energy drink. “What?”

“You heard me.” She said, grinning. “You both act like you’re married, but neither of you has the spine to make it official.”

You signed back, half-laughing a bit awkwardly. “He hasn’t said anything.”

“He won’t.” She said bluntly. “Not out loud. That’s your job.”

——————————————————————————

The next week, Toge invited you to the edge of the forest just behind the school. It was quiet, almost dreamlike. The moon spilling silver over moss and stone. You recognized the spot. It was where the third-years used to meditate.

You sat beside him. He passed you a tiny folded paper crane. Inside it was a note.

“You make the silence feel full.”

You looked at him, then signed slowly so he could understand. “You make it feel like someone is always listening.”

He didn’t move.

So you reached over and gently tugged his hand into yours.

He froze. But didn’t pull away.

Instead, he turned to you and signed back. “I want to be near you, even when I can’t speak.”

You answered the only way you could of in that moment.

By leaning your head against his shoulder.

——————————————————————————

The following days were filled with near-misses.

Moments where you almost said it. Almost signed it. Almost reached out and pulled him in by the collar and kissed him until you forgot why you’d waited so long.

But each time, something stopped you. Not fear. Not uncertainty. Just… patience.

Because even if it was unspoken, it wasn’t unsaid. Toge’s feelings were there in every small kindness, every carefully signed question, every quiet second spent at your side even when no one else stayed.

You didn’t need to rush.

But still… your heart itched with wanting.

——————————————————————————

It wasn’t until the school was hit by a freak storm that everything changed.

Thunder cracked overhead like the world was tearing at the seams. Most students had gone home for the weekend, but you’d stayed behind, training, of course. You weren’t surprised to find Toge had stayed too.

By the time the storm reached its peak, the power flickered out.

You stood in the middle of the empty dorm hallway, flashlight in hand, heart skipping with every rumble of thunder.

Then a tap on your shoulder. Toge.

He signed. “You okay?”

You nodded. “You?”

He hesitated. Then tilted his hand side-to-side. “So-so.”

You cocked your head. “You don’t like storms?”

He shook his head.

You signed again, slower this time. “Do you want company?”

He gave you a tiny nod, almost guilty. So you followed him back to his dorm room.

It was smaller than yours, surprisingly clean, the walls almost fully covered in different kinds of posters except for a calendar with rice ball stickers marking random days. He offered you tea, gestured for you to sit on the futon while he fiddled with a battery-powered lamp.

When the soft light filled the room, you saw it clearly for the first time.

The drawings on his desk. You recognized your own hands, signs sketched over and over. Notes with arrows pointing to different positions. Little side comments like “thumb higher”, “eyebrows matter more than you think”, and “she laughs when I mess this one up.”

You didn’t realize how tight your chest felt until you exhaled. Toge followed your gaze, then froze.

He moved quickly, as if to hide them but you caught his hand.

“You practiced this much?” You signed, heart swelling.

He nodded once. Then looked at the floor.

You gently pulled him back toward the futon and made him sit. Then you signed. “You make me feel understood. That’s rare.”

He looked up at you, eyes open and full of something so much deeper than any spoken word.

“You make me feel safe.”

He watched your hands like they were precious.

Then reached for his notebook. You stopped him with a shake of your head.

“No notebook.”

He looked confused. You took a breath, touched your fingertips to your chin, and signed slowly:

“I like you.”

His eyes widened.

Then, tenderly, like the motion had weight, he reached out and mirrored the sign back to you.

“I like you too.”

Your fingers touched, briefly, as the signs faded.

Then he moved, hesitant and gentle, and pressed his forehead to yours.

You closed your eyes, every nerve lit with quiet, aching affection. No rush. No loud declarations. Just presence. Pressure. The soft shared air of something becoming real.

And finally, after all this time, you leaned forward and kissed him.

It was slow. Careful. Not clumsy, just new. His lips were warm. His breath shallow. His hands didn’t grip or pull, they just hovered near your jaw, reverent, steady.

You felt everything he wanted to say in that moment.

And when you pulled back, you were already smiling.

So was he.

You tapped your chest again. Signed. “You’re my favorite quiet.”

He responded, both hands shaking slightly, with something you hadn’t seen him use before.

He signed back. “You’re my voice.”

And that was it. That was everything.

——————————————————————————

Later, you lay side by side under his thin blanket, facing each other in the soft glow of the lamp. You hadn’t meant to stay. But neither of you asked, not wanting to part ways just yet.

He touched your hand lightly under the covers and signed. “Do you think they’ll tease us?”

You smiled. “Panda already suspects everything.”

He laughed softly. “Maki will say, ‘finally.’” Toge chuckled, soundless but clear. You laughed too, your fingers brushing his. He signed slowly again. “I’ve never wanted to say so much… until I met you.”

You touched your thumb to your lips, then placed it over his heart. He placed his hand over yours.

And for the first time, there was no need for a notebook. No need for perfect timing.

Because silence was no longer the absence of words. It was where you both spoke clearest.

Together.

Tags: @noooo-onee @pickledsoda @hawkwithsocks @suna-yoshihara @grignardsreagent

Taglist is open so let me know if you want to be added in future works! :)

[slowpitstop]

I Dare You – IH6 (part one)

summary: A girl, a boy, a bunch of F1 drivers, too many parties and just enough tension to ruin your week

word count: 5.6k

isack hadjar x reader

note: hello my lovelies! this is the first fic I'm posting on tumblr and I hope you'll like it!!! This is part 1 so please comment and repost to give me any motivation to write part 2 otherwise this will end up in the bins of my projects along with my draft masters thesis lmao

Paris, April 2025

Your breath feels so loud it almost drowns out the music pulsing in the background. You recognise Niagara Falls by The Weeknd. The bass notes are shaking your bones but not as much as his eyes do.

Isack is looking at you, not moving an inch. His lips are slightly parted and all you want is to crash into them, hard, not sweet.

You stand two meters apart, fists clenched, while he is leaning against a cluttered table like you’re not melting in front of him.

“I dare you,” he smiles.

Something twists inside you and your veins ache. You take a step. Then another.

4 months ago -  London, January 2025

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Everyone around you screams while you snort out a huge laugh watching your friend miserably fall out of a handstand.

“Victor freaking Martins. You have to stop doing things like this or else you cannot complain about all the compromising videos I have on my phone,” you say as you lend him a helping hand.

You two keep dancing for a while, the music pounding in the crowded London apartment you somehow ended up in with a mix of friends and a bunch of strangers too. The lights are low and the air is buzzing with perfume, sweat and cheap champagne. It’s loud and chaotic and a little too hot but the energy feels good.

A little later, breathless, you slip away to get a drink, weaving through the crowd. You find a quieter corner with a table full of bottles and pour yourself an iced tea. Near the table, two guys are talking in French. You don’t mean to listen but you catch the words anyway.

The tall one, standing next to you, points to a girl in the crowd and smirks.

“C’est déjà Halloween?.” (Is it already Halloween?)

You follow his gaze and freeze. That’s your friend Marla, the same one you hyped up a few hours ago when she was choosing her outfit: orange overalls and a sheer green mesh long sleeve shirt. Sure, she looks a bit like a fashionable vegetable, but who cares? She loves it.

That is when you notice the other guy, shorter, half-hidden behind his friend. He has a boyish grin on his face and bursts of laughter when the tall one adds “En tout cas, c’est exactement comme ça que j’imaginais une citrouille danser” just as Marla throws herself into some heartfelt moves. (Anyway, that’s exactly how I imagined a pumpkin would dance)

He leaves but the other one lingers. He turns, catches you watching him.

“Hi,” he says, completely oblivious to your death stare. “Having a good night?”

His accent is thick and unmistakably French. You blow out a breath, like a bull in a kid’s cartoon.

“You Frenchies really like talking about people in front of them thinking no one can understand, huh?”

He blinks, confused. His smile fades. Now that you see him clearly, you clock the details of his vaguely familiar face: dark curls, Roman nose with a beauty mark, eyes the color of hot chocolate. But none of that matters.

“You think nobody here understands French?” you’re almost yelling now over the music.

“You can understand French?” he asks.

“Je suis à moitié française, bien sur que je comprends. Et surtout ce que tu dis sur mes amis,” you snap while pointing at Marla. (I am half French, of course I understand. And especially what you say about my friends)

He has recovered his composure now, and frowns. 

“Eh, j’ai rien dit, perso.” (Hey, I didn’t say anything myself)

“Ouais enfin t’as bien rigolé.” (Yeah, well you sure had a good laugh)

He shrugs. 

“Bah ouais. C’était drôle.” (Well yeah. It was funny)

Your eyes narrow and you give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

“I think it is funnier that two guys standing stiff as planks in a corner are commenting on a girl who’s just dancing and having fun.”

“Woaw, relax,” he says, holding his hands up. “You’re scary.”

“And you’re an idiot,” you say before you can think.

He raises an eyebrow and the space between you snaps tight. You’re about to say something else but your words catch behind your teeth. Maybe you overreacted. It was just a dumb comment. Marla had said she was going for chaotic sexy vegetable vibe, so why were you so angry?

Because he had that smug, boyish grin that made your stomach slightly twist and you didn’t like how that felt. Feeling a bit stupid and not ready to admit it got to you, you put your drink on the table a little too hard, and head back to the dancefloor as he watches you go.

When you come back to your friends, Victor wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Why were you talking to Isack?”

“Who?”

He tilts your head toward the guy you just argued with.

“Him. He raced with me in F2, you don’t recognise him? Isack Hadjar. Really good, just made it to F1 with Racing Bulls.”

The rest of his words feel like they echo from underwater.

“You’re going to see him a lot this year actually, since you’re interning with McLaren.”

Your eyes lock with Isack’s across the room and for a second, you wonder if he is just as thrown off as you are.

March 2025, Melbourne GP - Wednesday evening

The restaurant is fancy in a subtle way but the wine still costs more than your rent. The McLaren team fills the space with warmth and noise: engineers and mechanics are trading jokes while Zak Brown at the head of the table is sitting like the godfather of the whole operation.

You are seated between Oscar Piastri and one of the data analysts who is obsessed with tire degradation. Someone raises a toast to the start of the season and you clink glasses even though you are still convinced someone will soon realise you are an imposter and revoke your badge.

You were not supposed to be here, not really. Not at a literal F1 team dinner. You were a final-year engineering student at MIT and your school had this partners program where the lucky nerd who topped the year in each discipline gets to do their final semester with a real-world placement. Most get stuck designing powertrains for scooters but somehow, you got McLaren. The email even said that Zak Brown himself, a fellow American, helped launch the programme years ago. You remember rereading the name like: wait, that Zak Brown?

When you called Victor after getting the internship, he hallucinated for ten whole seconds and then said something that sounded like:

“You made it to F1 before me. I hate you. I’m so proud. I still hate you.”

Despite growing up in the U.S., summers at your grandparents’ in France meant everything to you: the tiny village in Essonne just an hour from Paris, your grandma’s terrifying Peugeot and Victor Martins. You met him when you were kids, racing bikes down gravel alleys. He got into karting first, obviously. Then one day you tried it too, just for fun and… you were awful. But something still clicked in your brain, not on how to drive the damn thing but how it worked. This spark steered you early on, toward engineering and eventually one of the best schools in the world.

You smile at the memory while someone refills your glass.

Thursday evening

You are in the hotel gym which is small but well equipped. You usually prefer running outside, especially early in the morning when the city is quiet but today the heat is too brutal. The air conditioning of the gym is a relief. Cool and steady, it matches the rhythm of your breath as you run on the treadmill.

You like the treadmill for your interval sessions, the fact you can precisely control the speed. Your feet hit the belt in a steady pattern, sweat building on your skin. You are focused and in the zone when the door swings open.

Isack walks in with his trainer, chatting. Your heart skips a beat, not for him obviously, but out of surprise, and you pretend you didn’t notice him.

But of course, you notice. He is wearing a fitted black t-shirt and training shorts and as he moves through warmups, his sleeves ride up his biceps. Then he starts on the weights. You see him in the mirror, the way his arms flex naturally with each movement, controlled and easy. He is focused, jaw clenched and hair damp at the edges. Shit.

You catch yourself staring a little too long and suddenly your foot slips. A loud noise echoes as your shoe hits too hard and you try to regain your balance.

Isack’s eyes snap to you.

Your cheeks are heating and you feel mortified. He smirks, part amusement, part something you can’t quite place.

You return your eyes to the screen in front of you, pushing the speed up in some desperate attempt to outrun your embarrassment. The weight of his gaze lingers, itching the back of your neck. You focus on your breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

Later

You are down at the hotel lobby vending machine at 1am because jet lag is eating you alive and there is nothing in your room but cool air and silence. You punch the button for crisps and the machine does nothing. Of course.

You are about to kick it when you hear a voice behind you.

“Maybe try saying please.”

You turn. Isack Hadjar, in sweatpants and a hoodie, with messy hair.

“Maybe try minding your business,” you mutter, not even looking at him.

He leans on the machine. You can feel him there like static electricity, right under your skin. He finally breaks the silence.

“You’re still mad about New Year’s?”

You roll your eyes and sigh.

“No, I don’t care. Why would I be mad? I don’t even know you.”

“Fair enough” he smiles, then adds: “I wasn’t trying to be a dick to your friend, you know that, right?”

“Fine,” you say, half to him, half to yourself. “Noted.”

You nod. He nods too. Not defensive, not smug, just… honest. There’s a beat. One too long. He looks exactly like the pictures you found online when you googled his name like a total idiot after that New Year’s argument. Same eyes. Same muscular silhouette. Same effortless charm that pisses you off just a little.

Except now he’s right in front of you. Real and warm and too close.

The crisps fall with a mechanical noise and break the spell. You snatch the bag and step back without another word, heart doing something stupid in your throat. You feel him looking at you the whole way to the elevator.

Race Day

You are in the McLaren garage, yawning. The first Grand Prix of the season is about to start but you are still half asleep, from jet lag and a few nights of tossing and turning in your bed. Friday practice and Saturday qualifying had gone well for the McLaren boys, which made you genuinely excited. Everyone knows it, this season, McLaren is onto something.

The crew slowly clears from the grid and the cars start their formation lap. You are looking at a detail on a spare piece of the car with one of the mechanics when a wave of noise breaks behind you. You turn toward the TV screen just in time to see the replay: Isack’s car is in the wall. Your stomach drops. How is that even possible? 

“Shit, that’s embarrassing,” says an engineer in the background.

You follow his exit on the screens, and even though he does not take off his helmet, you can see he is devastated. On his way back to the garage, Anthony Hamilton stops him to give him some comfort. You lean back, fingers brushing your face. He must feel awful. You should feel something else, some sort of vengeful smugness, but you don’t. There is no satisfaction at all, just some uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

A few hours after the Grand Prix and celebrations at McLaren’s, you are walking in the paddock hallway. You don’t mean to run into him. Not really. You’re just cutting through the back hallway to bring data logs to your trackside lead when he is suddenly there, half leaning on a wall and phone in his hands.

Isack’s suit is rolled down to his waist. He looks pissed. He sees you before you can turn around. Too late. You force yourself toward him.

“How are you?” you ask.

He shrugs. You open your mouth but he cuts you before you can speak, looking exhausted.

“Look, I’m not in the mood for banter, honestly.”

“I don’t want to banter” you protest. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About the crash.”

He pushes himself off the wall like your words physically annoy him. He looks at you, trying to decide if you’re lying. You hold his gaze but he looks away first.

“C’est vraiment la honte putain. Je me suis affiché comme un con sur mon premier Grand Prix en F1,” he mutters as he kicks a rock with his shoe. (This is so fucking embarrassing. I made a fool of myself at my first F1 Grand Prix)

You look at him, surprised by the sudden confession.

“It was just a stupid mistake, you have plenty of time to prove everyone wrong. Actually, it’s a pretty cool redemption arc story, you know.”

Then you add, because you are apparently incapable of stopping and need to fill this unbearable silence:

“I’ve watched footage of your F2 races. You have talent.”

His head tilts and he shows his usual smirk.

“You’ve stalked me?”

You feel your entire face becoming red, realising your mistake.

“No, I mean, I watched Victor's. You just happened to be in them.”

“You said you looked at my races, though.”

“God, fuck off.”

He laughs and it settles somewhere low in your stomach. Someone calls his name from down the paddock so he gathers his gear and starts walking back.

You call out, trying to save face:

“I still think you’re an idiot! By the way.”

He glances over his shoulder, a wide smug grin on his face. You try to ignore the warm and irritatingly happy feeling that blooms through you.

China GP, March 2025

Sunday mornings in the paddock seem to always be a little chaotic but today it’s the good kind. You’re sitting on an overturned crate near the Red Bull hospitality area, sipping something over-caffeinated. Around you, a loose group of rookies and Lily, Alex Albon’s girlfriend, who somehow manages being surrounded by chaos and still look elegant.

Someone, probably Ollie, just sparked a heated debate about who would survive longest on a desert island.

“You’d be dead in two days,” Kimi says, pointing at him. “You got lost inside a shopping mall.”

“I was eleven!” Ollie squeaks.

Laughter breaks out. Liam is mid rant about survival tactics and the object he would bring with him “I’d hunt some fishes, with like, sticks. Or a sharp spoon”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Isack smirk. You don’t look at him, you’re careful not to.

“Since you guys are asking, I would bring Liam and eat him for protein,” says Ollie out of the blue.

Liam smiles. “Kinky.”

You choke on your drink and Lily mutters “Oh my God”.

“What about you?” she turns to you. “How long are you lasting out there?”

You shrug. “I know how to boil water, I can tie knots and I don’t complain. Also I have watched all seasons of Survivor religiously.”

Lily whistles. “Damn. Attagirl.”

You try not to glance at Isack but you fail. He feels you staring and tilts his head toward you but you turn back to Lily a little too quickly, gulping your drink.

Then, salvation: Alex Albon appears from around the corner. He heads straight for Lily. 

“There you are,” he says, smiling. “Come on, I’m saving you from this testosterone soup.”

Lily stands and kisses him on the cheek. “Please get me out.”

You hop off the crate too to follow them. Lily loops her arm through yours and you glance back, just briefly. Isack’s eyes are still on you, unreadable.

Sunday evening

Someone has the bright idea of heading up to the hotel rooftop. It’s one of those in-between evenings where the post-race buzz still lingers but there’s no party, just too much dopamine and nowhere to put it. Someone brings snacks, someone else pulls out their JBL and the music mixes with the honks of Shanghai in the distance.

The sky is dark but it’s a nice night. String lights are throwing a golden halo over everyone’s head. You pull a hoodie over your sundress and sit cross-legged on the ground, sipping a Coke zero.

Ollie points a finger at Kimi.

“Truth or dare.”

A wave of protests erupts until Ollie threatens to switch the music to his Bangers only playlist.

Kimi is challenged to serenade a picture of Toto Wolff with a Backstreet Boys song. He does, terribly, and Ollie discreetly films the moment for future blackmail. Liam makes Lily answer whether Alex has ever cried during sex. He hasn’t, but he has cried watching The Notebook, apparently. You don’t know who dared Arthur Leclerc to try pushups on the roof ledge, but you stopped watching after the second one.

Eventually, it lands on you.

“Truth or dare?” Isack asks through the laughter.

You hesitate. He is leaning back on his hands, casual, but he looks at you like he knows you won’t pick truth. And maybe it’s pride or the rush of your second Grand Prix, but you say:

“Dare.”

Isack sits up straighter. “Walk the ledge.”

You blink. 

“Excuse me?”

He points to the low concrete ledge that lines the edge of the building, maybe half a meter wide.

“That’s so dumb,” you say. “What if I die?”

“I said walk, not fall. Are you scared?” he says and you catch the smile he is trying to hide. “Come on, I dare you.”

“Fine,” you concede, already standing. “Just to prove a point.”

Alex says your name like a warning but you wave him off. You climb onto the ledge, carefully, the night breeze making your sundress float up. Your feet balance quickly, muscle memory from years of martial arts and being stubborn. Halfway across, the wind picks up. You flinch. Your arms extend for balance but you wobble a bit.

And then he’s there. Quiet and sudden, next to the edge, reaching his hand out instinctively.

You don’t think. You grab it.

The second your palm touches his, a jolt goes through your fingers, sharp and electric. Like the spark of static from an old sweater. You let go immediately. He flinches too.

“What the hell was that?” you mutter.

“Static,” he says, staring at his hand like it betrayed him. But his voice is a little off.

You climb down fast, cheeks flushed. Lily grins at you like she knows exactly what just happened.

Somewhere in the English countryside, April 2025

You don’t really know whose house this is, only that Ollie found the party and wherever Ollie goes, Isack follows. Victor is here too, sipping a beer next to you. You are sitting in a pair of lounging chairs in the back garden with a small group. You’ve had maybe three beers. Four? You’ve stopped counting. Enough to feel loose and light, stretched out with your legs over Victor’s.

It’s been a strange few weeks. Japan feels like a blur and Bahrain is coming soon, but right now you’re in this bubble back in Europe with everyone. You miss Liam. He hasn’t been around much since the news, the fact that he got demoted to Racing Bulls hit him hard. You hope the memes you send relentlessly and the appreciation messages you text him are cheering him up a little.

But everything else is going surprisingly well. You are three Grands Prix in, and you’re not just surviving, you’re actually doing something. You have caught a few people off guard with how quickly you’ve picked things up. Your work is helping engineers tweak things, even small things. You’re useful. You’re wanted. Sometimes you catch yourself smiling for no reason at all, like you have finally found your place.

You suddenly tune back into the conversation the boys are having. Someone brought up MMA and some dramatic fight from last week, and now all the hormonal late teenagers around you are losing their minds.

“Wasn’t Adesanya the first one to come in with that insane striking record?” Ollie asks around.

You take a sip of your beer before responding.

“Nope. Germaine de Randamie was undefeated in 46 kickboxing fights before she got into MMA. Try again, sunshine.”

The group turns to stare at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Wait, you follow MMA?” Ollie says, clearly stunned.

Victor bursts out laughing.

“Of course she does. She did taekwondo for twelve years and boxing for five.”

Everyone laughs, quite impressed, before the conversation shifts. Amid the chatter and clinking bottles, Isack, who has barely looked at you all evening, tilts his beer slightly in your direction.

“You’ve been hiding this side of you.”

You reach for your beer, barely holding back a smug grin.

“You never asked.”

“Maybe we’ve been training in the same gym, do you know La frappe in Paris?”

“Sorry, I only train in tough cookie places,” you smile. Isack lets out a laugh.

“Putain,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You can be so cocky.”

You shrug, innocent.

“Just telling the truth.”

“What? You think you could take me?”

“I know I could take you,” you say before you can stop yourself.

He lifts a brow, his mouth twitching.

“You sure? You’re all talk.”

You lean back in your seat. You did not notice, but the garden has gone quieter as most people have drifted back inside because of the cold. It’s just you, Isack and Victor now. The air feels different somehow. You're both a little too competitive, a little too tipsy and neither of you knows when to back down.

Victor gets up and glances between you and Isack.

“I’m going for a wee, I do not want to see what this turns into,” he says, pointing between you two. “And I swear to God, if I come back and find you rolling in the bushes, I’m calling your mums.” You flip him off as he leaves.

Silence. Then, Isack stands and offers you a hand.

“Come on, let’s settle this.”

You give him a look.

“You’re not serious.”

“I dare you.”

Before either of you can think any better, you are both on your feet, half-fighting, half-laughing. He’s quick, but you’re quicker, dodging a grab and slipping around him. You aim for his ribs, gentle but cocky and he screams with exaggerated offense.

At some point, you throw a lazy leg kick that he somehow catches. You both lose your balance and roll into the grass, breathless. You manage to pin him for half a second before he flips you with way too much ease. He ends up above you, hands wrapped around your wrists, pressed into the grass. You stop giggling. His curls are a mess and he's panting a little.

His eyes flick down to your mouth and you suddenly realise how close your faces are. Now all you can think about is how your lips are almost brushing his. How they looked like when he laughed two seconds ago. How they might feel.

You can hear your own heart in your ears. Your skin is burning, in the places where he touches you, where he doesn’t. What the hell am I thinking? You’re drunk. That’s all it is. Just the beers and the grass and the way he’s looking at you like you’re some kind of mystery he wants to solve with his mouth.

He breathes out, slowly and his lips almost touch yours when…

“OLLIE BROKE A TABLE!!” someone screams from inside.

You both get up within a second like you have been electrocuted, barely looking at each other.

“I.. I’m going to see what that was,” you mumble, already moving. 

You don’t wait for him to respond and just run.

Essonne, France, April 2025

The sun is bright over your heads. You squint as you wipe sweat off your forehead with the bottom of your shirt. Victor misses his shot and groans.

“Sucker” you tease, snatching the ball.

“I’m not a sucker, I’m distracted,” he says, looking at you. “You’ve been in a mood all day. Spill the tea.”

You roll your eyes and dribble past him, taking a shot that bounces off the basketball rim. He takes the ball, still looking at you like he is not going to let this go.

“What’s going on with you and Isack?”

You freeze for a second too long.

“Nothing.”

“Oh come on. You were flirting with your eyes at that party like it was a full-time job.”

You try to dodge him, literally and figuratively but he runs into you lightly, grinning.

“I’m serious! You’ve been weird ever since. What happened?”

You press your lips together. Bounce the ball twice.

“Nothing happened, okay?”

Victor raises an eyebrow, smirking. You cave.

“Fine. We almost kissed.”

He blinks and his jaw drops.

“WHAT?”

“We were messing around on the grass. It got stupid. We were drunk. And then someone yelled about Ollie breaking something and I panicked and left. And I haven’t talked to him since.”

Victor makes a noise between disbelief and amusement.

“You ghosted him?”

“I didn’t ghost him.”

He just stares.

“I just… avoided him. For the rest of the party and at the Bahrain GP.”

He drops the ball and throws his hands up dramatically.

“You’re unbelievable!”

You throw your hands up as well. 

“Hey, it’s not like it’s just my fault. He also hasn’t reached out.”

“But why don’t you reach out? You like him.”

“I don’t like him.”

He squints at you again.

“You look at him like you want to fuck him and kill him at the same time.”

“Shut up!” you throw the basketball at his chest. He dodges, laughing.

“You do! You’ve got the murder eyes and the horny eyes!”

You chase him across the court, swearing in French under the spring sun.

Paris, April 2025 (back to the beginning)

You don’t really want to be here but Marla begged and honestly, there wasn’t much to do tonight anyway. You are only in Paris for the night, crashing at her place since your early train to visit your family and Victor leaves from the Austerlitz station.

The party you found yourselves in is hosted by a Red Bull crew member, a celebration after the triple header. The apartment is full of people. A mix of F1 people, friends of friends and party crashers. There is French rap humming in the background and wine glasses everywhere.

You are sitting on the kitchen counter in a short skirt and large sun-faded Carhartt t-shirt, both stolen from Marla’s wardrobe an hour ago. Your hair is loose and your legs swing lazily as you sip a very bad rosé.

Marla stands beside you, arms crossed, the neck of a beer bottle tucked between two fingers like a cigarette.

“I get she is lonely after the divorce, but she could literally find anyone else. I always have to be the one going, ‘Mom, that man brought a coupon to your birthday…’”

Your attention slips and your eyes drift toward the living room. Paris + Red Bull party equals Isack Hadjar, prince of the evening. He has been laughing for half an hour now with two guys you vaguely recognise from the Racing Bulls garage and a girl with a backless dress and perfectly blown out hair. You haven’t seen him since England apart from a glance at the media pen at the Saudi GP, but now he’s here, on home turf, like the party belongs to him. Of course he’s magnetic. Did a magnificent season debut. Everyone knows his name here. You wish you didn’t.

“You’re not even listening to me,” Marla complains.

“I am!”

Marla tilts her head.

“You’ve looked at him like six times in two minutes.”

“No I didn’t,” you say too quickly.

The girl next to Isack says something and touches his arm. He doesn’t pull away. You grit your teeth and gulp your glass of wine in one go before reaching to pour another one. Marla watches, unimpressed. 

“Anyway,” you say, desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere, “please tell me more about your new step dad.”

“Fine,” she sighs. “He wears leather bracelets. Plural. And he plays the didgeridoo.”

Later in the evening, you are standing by a dying potted plant, pretending to check something on the wall. Your glass is still half full but your head is light from the wine.

You turn to head back to the kitchen and slam right into someone. Your wine nearly spills down your front. A hand reaches, steadying your arm.

“Careful,” he mutters.

You look up. Isack.

“Maybe look where you’re going,” he says, pulling his hand back like he regrets touching you.

“Are you mad at me?” you say abruptly, the wine talking through you.

His brow lifts, caught off-guard.

“What?”

“You’ve stayed a mile away from me all night, hovering around…” you glance at the girl with the backless dress across the room “... whoever,” you mumble.

He exhales.

“I’m being weird? You’re the one who’s been ignoring me for weeks. You barely hang out with the guys anymore. And you look right through me like I don’t exist.”

“I haven’t been…”

“Yes, you have,” he cuts in. “Just admit it.”

“It’s not that simple.”

He lets out a dry laugh. 

“It is to me. You got scared,” he says like he’s daring you to deny it.

You cannot hold his gaze as you look away without replying. 

“Then say it,” Isack says, calmer now. “Say there’s nothing between us. Say it and I’ll walk out that door. You’ll never have to deal with me again.”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, because you don’t know how to lie right now. The silence stretches and his expression doesn’t change.

“Yeah,” he says, voice flat. “That’s what I thought.”

Then he turns and walks away.

You stay frozen for a second. Maybe two or three. And then the air rushes back into your lungs. Heart pounding, you push through the crowd. You shove your wine glass into Marla’s startled hands on the way.

He is already halfway down the corridor when you catch him just as he slips into the pantry to get his hoodie, all the guest’s jackets being oddly packed next to the food shelves.

You follow him inside and the door clicks shut behind you.

He turns around, clearly irritated.

“What now?”

You take a shaky breath, words tumbling out before you can stop them.

“I don’t know what I feel, okay? And it’s so unfair of you to ask that because I cannot think when you’re around, and… and I feel like an idiot. Like I’m drowning in something I don’t understand, and you’re just standing there like it’s nothing.”

His expression softens.

“You didn’t say anything either, after England,” you say through your breath.

“Because you acted like it was a mistake,” he replies while running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I got scared,” you whisper.

He meets your gaze.

“So did I.”

You are way too aware of every detail right now, the cramped room, his eyes, the way his presence makes your chest tighten while he is in front of you, waiting for you to say something, anything.

Your breath feels so loud it almost drowns out the music pulsing in the background. You recognise Niagara Falls by The Weeknd. The bass notes are shaking your bones but not as much as his eyes do.

Isack is looking at you, not moving an inch. His lips are slightly parted and all you want is to crash into them, hard, not sweet.

You stand two meters apart, fists clenched, while he is leaning against a cluttered table like you’re not melting in front of him.

“I dare you,” he smiles.

Something twists inside you and your veins ache. You take a step.
Then another.

You’re in front of him now. So close you can smell his cologne and feel his breath on your lips. His hand slides to your jaw, gentle but sure and then his mouth is on yours.

The kiss is nothing like you imagined. It’s worse. Rougher, hotter, messier. Your teeth bump. Your hands are in his hair. His fingers dig into your back like he doesn’t believe you’re real.

You grip the front of his shirt as Isack exhales into your mouth. There’s too much noise in your head and not enough space between you. He flips you around, lifts you onto the table and you pull him closer between your legs.

One of his hands slides up under your skirt and his fingers leave burning marks on your thigh. He kisses you like he wants you to feel every inch of it, like he’s daring you to pull away. His lips trace the shape of your jawline before returning to your mouth. You let out a moan.

It’s not soft, it’s not perfect. But it’s just right.

[redcali]

HEARTBEAT ⁠♡.ᐟ

SYPNOSIS AU in which Zayne becomes your mental health psychiatrist

WARNINGS/TAGS MDNI 18+, explicit content, mentions of riding, office sex, slight angst, slight fluff and comfort, no proofread, talks about mental wellbeing

A/N This is only a slight deviation from the actual story but yea I hope you enjoy <3 Also my first time writing a full Zayne fic

Psychiatrist!Zayne who meets you the first time for your mental illness diagnosis. He doesn’t press, just listens to your troubles and silently takes down notes. You’ve never opened up as much as you have to this handsome doctor you just met an hour ago, never felt as vulnerable and comfortable. He senses your distress, and when you start choking up a little he reaches over to rest his hand on top of yours. His eyes are surprisingly gentle up close, even behind the pair of glasses, and his touch is soothing, like tasty sleep syrup or a warm blanket.

Psychiatrist!Zayne who meets you for your second checkup to run some tests. When he pulls out a small packet for a blood test, you instantly tense up. Truth is, you despise blood tests. Zayne notices this too, his watchful eyes scanning the way your body reacts as his glasses slip a little lower on his nose bridge. “Scared?” You nod numbly. Without a second word, Zayne slips his hand into yours, slender fingers threading through yours. You stare at him, surprised, but before you can say anything, he’s already pulling away with a vial full of your own blood. That’s when you notice the single bead of blood ebbing out of your little wound and the slight sting that follows. Zayne holds up your arm as he carefully applies a plaster on you. You look at him, eyes wide. Maybe Zayne only did that to distract you or … so as to comfort you, despite his usual stern and calm composure.

Psychiatrist!Zayne who calls you on a Sunday night. You pick up, surprised when you hear his voice on the other end. “Doctor Li?” “Apologies for calling so late, but the results for your report just came out…” And so you two start talking about the diagnosis, the tests, and finally you start berating him about the antic he pulled on you when he was taking your blood test. “It worked, didn’t it?” You could almost detect a hint of amusement in his usual stern tone and you scowl. “You hold all of your patients’ hands?” You demand into the phone. “Nope, only the ones whose heart rate spikes when I’m checking their heartbeat.” Your jaw drops and you’re relieved that he can’t see the gobsmacked look on your face right now. “Well, I’m always like that around doctors.” You reply indignantly and Zayne has the audacity to actually laugh. And before you know it … you two are talking into the night, with your phone rested on the bed and you lying on your stomach. You try to fight your drowsiness, but eventually your eyelids grow too heavy and you’re pulled into a deep sleep.

Psychiatrist!Zayne who doesn’t hang up even after you fall asleep. You wake up, your face still smushed into the side of your pillow, and that’s when you notice your glowing screen. Scrambling onto your feet, you accidentally knock your phone to the ground. There’s a short pause from Zayne’s side before he speaks, “Snoring can actually be caused by nasal congestion, poor sleep position—” “I don’t snore!” You protest, your face burning. Zayne lets out a disbelieving “huh” which you choose to ignore.

Psychiatrist!Zayne who starts calling you every night. At first, it’s to talk about your reports, but it always ends up spiralling into late night calls. One night, when things get really bad, your fingers trembling on your screen as you press the first contact that appears on your list – the one that says last call at 8am – Zayne answers in a few rings. “Sorry, give me a moment. I have an analysis that’s due tomorrow.” “Okay,” you say, but Zayne instantly notices the way your voice is trembling. Your quiet sniffles. He notices something is wrong. “Hey,” he says, his voice soft but urgent. Something in you breaks at that, and then you’re full on crying as wave after wave of tears leak out of your stinging eyes. “I’m coming over.” You don’t want to trouble him, and you try to tell him that through your tears, but he has already hung up.

Psychiatrist!Zayne who’s at your doorstep in minutes. You open the door, to see him in his dark coat, his raven hair slightly mussed from the wind and from the hurry. He doesn’t say a further word before he pulls you into a hug. His body feels so firm and steady against yours, and it calms you down a little, you think a hug from him can cure millions, as he gently leads you into your own house, shutting the door behind you two as he pulls you down onto the couch. You two just lay there, with his arms wrapped securely around you, stroking your hair gently as he whispers words of comfort into your ear. And you just cry, your face buried into the soft material of his large coat. When you fall asleep this time, you’re not separated by distance.

Psychiatrist!Zayne who gets a little flustered the next time you meet him in his office. You find it funny, a whole 6’1” man who can’t hold your eye contact before his face starts turning a little pink. “I’m trying to stay professional here,” he finally bursts out, fingers tightly gripping his clipboard. “So if you can stop looking at me like that…” “Like what?” You wonder out loud. “Maybe I need more than just emotional support.” “And what are you trying to imply?” He draws closer to you, backing you up against the wall. “Tell me.” You don’t reply, just stare silently at his lips. And when they finally brush up against your own lips, you kiss him back hungrily until you two are just making out against his wall. He grabs you by your waist, hoists you up onto the medical bed, and goes right back to kissing you, a hand holding your face and the other still wrapped around your waist. When he slips a tongue into your mouth, you let out a moan, and instantly you feel something harden, pressing into your aching heat.

Psychiatrist!Zayne who makes you ride him in his own office, your body bouncing up and down as you repeatedly sink back onto his rock hard cock which rubs deliciously against your sweet spot. You’re whimpering, hands gripping his firm broad shoulders for support, and Zayne just watches you ride his cock, a slightly fucked out expression on his face. When your thighs start burning, and your pace starts slowing, Zayne simply grabs onto your hips and pulls you back down to meet his thrusts, using you like some sort of fleshlight, and the thought of that sends you over the edge, your clit catching onto his crotch and rubbing against it as you’re pulled down on his length once more. You come so hard you practically see stars. Zayne easingly lifts you off his cock, still rock hard and tip leaking, so you reach over, hands curling into a fist as you glide your hand up and down his length. Zayne groans your name as spurts of white shoot out from his length. “God,” he gasps, his cock still pulsating and throbbing around your hand. “More than emotional support, huh?”

Psychiatrist!Zayne who has a slightly dazed look in his eyes for the rest of the day. When his colleagues ask him about the strange noises coming from his office, Zayne pretends to be confused. “Must be the wind,” he says lightly.

(Sure… )

[writingbluerose]

TWST DRABBLE #21

“I still think this pajama of yours is absolutely adorable”

A flush of red could be seen on Deuce's face in the reflection of his small mirror. It was a school day morning and last night you thought it would be fun to invite Deuce for a sleepover in Ramshackle for his birthday. You've forbidden Ace to enter the dorm that night because it was the blue haired's special day. Ace of course had taken some minutes to complain about it before begrudgingly accepting it and spending his night in his dorm. Grim was also forbidden to cause trouble, you've told him that if he complained once or made a statement that would make Deuce angry he'd send him out to stay with Ace ( not a punishment or anything, but for the two it certainly was like torture )

You were looking at Deuce with your head on your palm, smiling slightly as the boy was getting ready to draw his spade heart on the side of his eye. He looked at you from the corner of his eye before his cheeks colored again and saying : “I uh, I- I see the shirt is, is uhm, I see the shirt fits you well...” Oh yes, you were wearing one of the shirts Deuce has given you on your first nights here. Your closet had both his clothes and Ace's. The boys found some unused shirts and pants they had and gave them to you so you wouldn't be forced to sleep in only your uniform. You giggled, “Thank you, it's very comfy” His lips quivered and his face got redder before slowly continuing his makeup.

After a while of watching, you heard him grumble before repeatedly erasing the parts he previously drew on his face. “Want me to help you?” His fingers twitched before looking at you and slightly nodding. You clapped, letting a tiny 'yeeeyy' and walked to sit in front of him. Making a grabby motion at him, Deuce passed you his pencil with a quiet nod. You got closer and put your hand exactly where his hair clip rested, careful not to press on it so it wouldn't hurt.

Deuce had always had trouble with drawing the bottom part of his solider card sign, he told you that many times when he had to do it alone in his room and how annoying it was to listen to his roommates constant chatter that wasn't helping him concentrate, especially Ace's. You'd laugh and tell him you'd gladly help if the opportunity ever came. And here it is. With a small smile on your face you carefully traced Deuce's makeup without a care in the world.

The boy, though, was extremely embarrassed by the close proximity you two were in. He tried his best to keep it cool but it was clear his face was way too red for you not to notice. His fists that were holding the fabric of his fluffy pink pants clenched harder as he concentrated on the feeling of your fingers on his cheek. A minute passed before your happy voice took him out of his thoughts : “There! All done!” He looked in the mirror, seeing the almost perfectly drawn heart on his cheek. “Bwoah!! You're better at this than I am! It's literally perfect!” You laughed at him before giving him a small hug. “Anything for ya Deuce. Happy birthday!” He tilted his head, “Huh? But it's not my birthday anymore though...?” You giggled again, “Yep, I know!” You winked at him before getting up, putting your hands on your hips,

“Now we better get ready, it's only 20 minutes until school starts” It took him a second before he quickly got up and started packing his things, “Crap, Professor Crewel will kill us! Come on Y/N!” You gave him a loud laugh as he pushed you upstairs so you could change in your uniforms. Man you really loved his company

@day-dr3aming this is for you 🫶🏻

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEUCE! ♡︎ © writingbluerose 2025

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Only part.

Bleeding Hearts-

[🐋]

Jinx hadn’t told anyone at first.

Not when she woke up with a strange warmth between her thighs. Not when she felt the sick twist in her stomach. Not when she peeled back her sheets to find them stained with something dark and terrifying.

She thought it might be blood from a wound—maybe a fight she forgot. Maybe a bullet that grazed her in the night. That happened sometimes. Her memory wasn’t always reliable. But she didn’t feel hurt.

Just… wrong. Dirty. Broken.

It was Sevika who noticed her pale face and stiff posture later that morning, when Jinx wandered through the Last Drop looking like she’d seen a ghost.

“What’s with the long face, powder keg?” Sevika grunted, nursing a drink as usual.

Jinx didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t afraid of Sevika—Jinx wasn’t afraid of anyone—but her voice came out quieter than usual. “I think I’m… dying.”

Sevika raised a brow. “What? You sick?”

Jinx glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, then leaned in. “There was blood. Down there. On my sheets. A lot. I think it’s inside me. Something’s wrong.”

Sevika blinked once. Then smirked.

“Oh,” she drawled. “That? You just got your period.”

“My what?”

“You know—the curse, the bleeding, monthly murder—whatever you wanna call it.”

Jinx stared. “So I am dying.”

Sevika snorted. “Nah, you’ll just wish you were for a couple days. Cramps, mood swings, blood leaking out like a horror show. Might kill someone if you sit on their lap, though. Heh.”

“…You’re not helping!”

Sevika gave a dry chuckle and leaned back. “You’ll survive. Barely. Ask your babysitter to help. She knows more about that soft stuff.”

Jinx’s eyes widened. "Her?!"

Sevika grinned, taking a long drink. “Sure. She’s probably already cleaned up after your mess before, huh?”

Jinx ran.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Back in the dim, oil-lit room she shared with your character, Jinx paced like a stray cat. Her mind buzzed with Sevika’s words. Cramps. Horror show. Sit on someone and kill them? And worse than all that—

You, her crush was right there. Folding laundry, her clothes.

“You okay?” you asked gently, watching her with concern.

Jinx stopped dead in her tracks.

“Promise not to laugh.”

“I would never.”

“…I think I’m dying.”

She turned toward you, eyes wide, fragile in a way she never let herself be. “I woke up and—there was blood. Between my legs. And Sevika said it was a period, and I don’t even know what that means and she said it’s gonna hurt and—”

Her voice broke slightly. “And I like you. I didn’t wanna tell you like this. I wanted it to be... cooler. Not all gross and bloody.”

You try to don't laugh, pressing your lips together. You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around her.

“Jinx,” you said, brushing her tangled blue hair from her face. “You’re not dying. It’s just your body growing up. Getting stronger. That blood? It’s natural. Every girl goes through it. Even me.”

She looked up at you, stunned. “You bled too?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah. I freaked out the first time too. You’re not broken. You’re just becoming more... you.”

“But… it feels awful,” she mumbled.

“I know. I’ll take care of it.”

You kept your promise.

You found her clean clothes and helped her into them without a word of judgment. You rinsed her sheets in the basin, quietly, so no one would notice. You showed her how to make pads from spare cloth, how to ease the cramps, how to breathe when it hurt. You let her curl up beside you when she was cold and clingy, heart fluttering when she whispered, “Thanks, sugar.”

The blood didn’t scare you. Neither did her confession.

You kissed her forehead that night and whispered, “You’re safe with me.”

Jinx, for once, didn’t say anything back.

She just smiled—small, secret, and soft—and drifted to sleep in your arms.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Jinx stayed close for the night.

Not clingy in the chaotic way she could be, not bouncing off the walls or throwing wrenches into pipes just to see what would happen. This was different. Quieter. She shadowed you like a ghost made of tangled blue hair and wide, wondering eyes—watching everything you did, like she was trying to understand something new.

That morning, she woke up before you.

You were still curled beneath the thin sheets, one arm draped over your waist like a blanket. Jinx watched the way your chest rose and fell, how peaceful you looked when you weren’t tense with duty or expectation. She didn’t mean to, but her fingers reached out and traced the edge of your arm, just a little. Just a brush.

You shifted in your sleep and murmured something soft. Jinx’s hand shot back like she’d touched a hot pipe, but her smile betrayed her.

You had stayed with her.

Even after all the blood. After the weird confession. After Sevika’s warnings and Silco’s dismissive glares and all the ways she was “too much” or “not enough”—you stayed. You washed her clothes. You held her like she was worth something. Like her bleeding didn’t make her gross, or dangerous, or broken.

Jinx had never had that before.

So she made you something.

It wasn’t good, not by normal standards. It was a weird patchwork pillow she stitched together from scraps of stolen fabric—gray and green and too many purples, with uneven thread holding it together. She even tried to embroider your name into the side, though one of the letters looked more like a dead spider.

She shoved it into your hands that afternoon without meeting your eyes.

“I made this,” she mumbled, ears tinged pink. “For you. ‘Cause, uh… you didn’t freak out. Or puke. Or run away.”

You blinked, then held the pillow against your chest like it was made of gold.

“I love it,” you said honestly. “It’s perfect.”

Jinx’s shoulders relaxed.

Later that night, the two of you sat together in your shared room, the soft hum of Zaun’s underbelly filtering through the cracked window. You had given her a hot water bottle from and was curled into your side with it pressed to her stomach. She kept letting out tiny sighs—half pain, half contentment.

“Still hurting?” you asked gently, brushing her hair from her face.

“A little. But this helps.” She nestled closer. “You help.”

She tilted her head to look up at you, expression serious for a moment.

“Hey… if this is growing up, it kinda sucks. But… if it means being close to you like this, I guess it’s not all bad.”

You chuckled softly. “You’re not growing up alone, Jinx. I’m here.”

A pause.

“Even if I get worse?” she asked, barely a whisper. “Even if I bleed all over again, or say the wrong thing, or—break something important?”

You pulled her in tighter, resting your cheek against her messy blue hair.

“I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was warm. Full. Like something finally clicked in place in her chest.

“…Can I sleep here tonight?” she asked, already halfway asleep against you.

“You never have to ask.”

She smiled. That shy, secret smile again. The one only you got to see.

And this time, it was her who kissed your forehead.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚈𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

[🐋]

This kinda sucks...😫

@powderbomb-jinxed

[azzifudd10]

New Teammates, Old Baggage Chapter 2

The next few days passed in a blur of drills, media obligations, and tense silences.

Paige didn’t speak to Azzi unless it was absolutely necessary. On the court, they played like professionals — sharp, in sync, coldly efficient — but off it, they might as well have been strangers who happened to wear the same jersey.

Except for one thing.

Jazlyn.

Paige had noticed it right away: her daughter had started watching the door during practices, eyes lighting up the moment Azzi walked in. She’d shuffle closer on the bench, find excuses to linger in the locker room longer, draw more pictures with that same three-person lineup: Paige, Jazlyn, and Azzi — always with the sparkles, always with the trophy.

And Paige hated how much it made her heart twist.

It was Thursday evening when the next crack split open.

Paige was running late from treatment. Her knee had been acting up again, and she didn’t want to risk pushing it. By the time she made it to the daycare pickup room at the practice facility, her stomach dropped.

Azzi was already there.

She was sitting cross-legged on the mat, surrounded by crayons and coloring pages. Jazlyn was curled up against her side, one arm slung lazily around Azzi’s waist like she belonged there. They were giggling about something — something Paige wasn’t part of — and it made her stomach knot.

Azzi looked up first. Her smile faltered for half a second. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Paige said, keeping her voice neutral as she walked over.

“Mama!” Jazlyn beamed, hopping up. “Look! Me and Zizi made a castle.”

Paige blinked. “Zizi?”

Azzi looked mildly embarrassed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Nickname, I guess.”

“She picked it all by herself,” Jazlyn declared proudly. “Cuz ‘Azzi’ is too short. And Zizi sounds more fun.”

Paige forced a tight smile. “Yeah. That’s… fun.”

Azzi stood, dusting off her hands. “She didn’t want to leave until you got here. I didn’t mind waiting.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Paige replied too quickly.

Azzi’s face didn’t change, but her posture stiffened just slightly. “I know. I just didn’t want her sitting alone.”

Jazlyn looked between them, the joy on her face beginning to fade.

Azzi caught it immediately and crouched again, lowering her voice to Jazlyn’s level. “I should go. But our castle still needs a dragon next time, okay?”

“Okay,” Jazlyn whispered, arms winding briefly around Azzi’s neck. “Bye, Zizi.”

Paige watched them, silent and tense, then took Jazlyn’s hand a little too firmly. “Let’s get home.”

The ride was mostly quiet. Jazlyn kicked her little feet in the backseat, humming to herself. Paige gripped the steering wheel tighter than she needed to.

At home, things didn’t get better.

Dinner was rushed. Jazlyn spilled her applesauce and Paige snapped. Bedtime was late. There were no stories, no songs. Just a quick kiss on the forehead and the bedroom door clicking shut.

Paige stood in the hallway after, forehead resting against the wall, breath shaky.

She didn’t know who she was mad at.

Herself, maybe. Or Azzi. Or life for being so damn complicated.

She went to bed late, eyes staring at the ceiling like it might offer answers.

The next day at practice, Paige barely said a word. Her movements were precise but joyless, and she kept her distance from everyone.

During water break, Jazlyn came bouncing into the gym, daycare tag still hanging from her backpack. She ran toward the bench, waving something in her hand.

“Mama! Look what I made today!”

Paige turned to look but didn’t smile. “In a second, baby.”

Azzi was closer. She knelt down instead. “Hey, what’ve you got there?”

Jazlyn proudly held up a pipe cleaner bracelet, glitter beads clumsily strung across it. “It says Z-I-Z-I!”

Azzi laughed softly, touched. “You made this for me?”

“Uh-huh. Cuz you’re my best friend.” She leaned in, whispering like it was a secret. “Mama’s still mad today. I think she needs a bracelet too.”

Azzi’s expression shifted — something soft and pained — as she looked past Jazlyn to Paige, who was watching all of it from across the court, eyes unreadable.

Later, after practice ended and players trickled into the showers, Paige walked over to her daughter. She kept her voice low.

“What did I tell you about getting too close with people we don’t know well?”

Jazlyn looked up, confused. “But I do know her. She’s Zizi.”

“That’s not the same thing, Jaz,” Paige said, kneeling. “She’s not… she’s not family.”

Jazlyn blinked, processing. Then her lower lip quivered. “But I love her.”

Paige froze.

The words hung in the air like a punch.

She swallowed hard. “You don’t even know what that means.”

“Yes I do,” Jazlyn whispered. “She makes me feel safe. Like you do.”

That broke something open inside Paige.

That night, after Jazlyn fell asleep — clutching a plush unicorn Azzi had won for her at a team charity event — Paige stood by the window of their apartment, arms crossed, staring out at the streetlights below.

Her phone was heavy in her hand.

She didn’t want to send the text. Didn’t even know why she was typing it.

But her fingers moved anyway.

We need to talk. The reply came a few minutes later.

Name the time and place.

[arisewanekosuki]

TLH -Extra-: A Novel - Yae Miko (Feat. Inazuma boys x Fem!Reader)

Finally finished this idea ٩(๑❛ワ❛๑)و Sorry for any mistakes. ------------------

Miko lately was bored, whenever she would come to your TeaPot there would be something going on, but lately… It's too peaceful for her liking.  It seems many boys have been very busy the past few days, so she can't watch how they are fighting against each other for your affections.  But she came up with a plan. A plan that can bring some chaos and mora to her pockets at the same time.

You were sitting on the sofa, looking through some artefacts. You already told others how you can see stories in them or see if the artefacts are good to make others stronger, but for them it just looks like you're intensely looking at the piece you're holding with serious expression. Yae Miko chuckled at that, you didn't even notice her approaching.  -"There is my little helper~" she said, placing both of her hands on your shoulders from behind. -"Ah?!" you screamed and turned to see the Kitsune lady. -"M-Miko! You surprised me!" Miko chuckled at that. -"You should be more aware of your surroundings little one~" -"Huh? But here is the safest place in whole Teyvat?" -"Hmm?~ Are you sure about it?~" She smirked "Anyway I was hoping you can help me with something, do you have time now?" -"Oh sure! Should I go get Aether?" -"Ah, there is no need, only you can help me with this anyway~" you looked confused at her but still agreed, but this was something you never expected you would be doing.

At Narukami Shrine, stood you and Miko with another Shrine Maiden that was looking through Kamera. -"Is this really necessary?" you asked, feeling embarrassment. You are wearing a Shrine maidens' outfit with cat ears on your head and tail. -"Of course! Our model got sick and we can't wait till she will recover." Said Kitsune Lady, smiling at you, while other Shrine maiden took photos that will be used as references for artists... or so you were told. "Can you now change your pose? Hmm, maybe some cute cat pose?"  -"Something like this?" you held one hand a bit higher than your head, while the other closer to the chest. -"Yes! That's a good one!" clapped Miko. After more poses and taking photos you thought that would be it. -"Now please change into this~" Miko said, handing you a very lovely looking kimono. -"Oh what is this for?" you asked. -"It's uchikake… traditional Inazuma wedding Kimono." -"HUH?!" -"This is for novel about ninja lady who assassinated her 'husband'" -"You… have very interesting novels here haha…"

It was evening when you came back to TeaPot. Paimon was the first one to welcome you and ask where you have been. -”Ah, with Miko, she asked me to help her with… something… But! Look! I got mora from it!” You showed the bag filled with golden coins, proud that you earned mora without help from anyone. The rest of the evening you spent with Paimon wondering what you two should buy with it.

Some weeks have passed, you even forget about this whole thing but you become unaware of what started to happen in Inazuma because of your little job.

Thoma was the first to notice it. While passing the stall of Yae Publishing house he saw something… or rather someone on one of the covers of novels. Coming closer he was sure, the person on the cover was you! The cute cat ears atop of your head added to your adorableness. He quickly took the novel and asked how much it was. -”Ah it's a special limited edition so it costs 15 000 Mora.” Kuroda smiled. Thoma couldn’t help but gulp. -”Alright… I want to buy this one!” He placed a bag of mora, knowing it will hurt him financially this month. -”Of course! Ah, would you want to check the other special limited edition of another series as well?” Kuroda placed the other novel in front of the housekeeper. On the cover you wear beautiful uchikake. Thoma’s cheeks became red, seeing you in a wedding kimono makes wonders to his heart. -”H-how much…?” he asked, scared of the price. -”This one has more extra illustrations, so 20 000 Mora.”  the editor smiled devilishly. Thoma sighed, thinking that this month he will have to eat less but for this limited novel with you on the cover it’s worth it. -”I’m buying this one too!” 

Itto was chilling with Genta and Mamoru when they suddenly saw Akira running towards them. -”Haha what got you in such hurry? “ Itto laughed, looking at Akira who was trying to catch his breath. -”B-boss… there… Yae Publishing House…” he tried to say while catching his breath. -”What’s up with that?” the gang leader asked. -”There is a novel with (Y/n)’s image on the cover!” he finally said. -”WHAT?! AND YOU DIDN'T BOUGHT IT?!” Itto shouted. -”Well… It's a special edition so it’s expensive- Oi Boss wait!” Itto didn’t wait for his gang member to finish sentence and rushed towards the city. …  When the guys reached Yae Publishing House, they saw Itto pleading with Kuroda . -”Don’t be like that, man! I will pay! Just I need time to get mora!” -”No, the only thing I can do is save those two copies for now, but you have one week to pay, if not I’m selling them to the next person!” Itto smiled after hearing that. -”Thanks man! Don’t worry! I will pay it soon!” With that the Oni went to his gang.  “Did ya hear? Time to gather 35 000 Mora!” His gang sighed, knowing where this would go…

Heizou caught another criminal, because he was working alone he had to bring the guy to the police station himself.  When he was passing two men he couldn’t help but notice something in one of the guy's hands. A novel… with the image of you. -”Excuse me sir, may I ask where did you get this from? “ the self proclaimed detective stopped to ask. -”Oh, um, from Yae Publishing House, it's a limited edition.” -”Humm, I see~” Heizou looked at the criminal. “Well some walk will do you good, after all you will spend some time in jail~” he smiled, the criminal looked at him confused. -”Huh?” … -”Thank you for your patronage, good sir!” Kuroda said, giving Heizou two novels. Heizou chuckled, looking at the covers.  -”Ah~ She is so stunning, don’t you think?” Heizou asked the tied up man. -”Uhh.. yeah…?” -”You didn't say it with conviction… Take a better look!” Heizou brought the novel closer to the guy’s face. “She is soo dreamy~! Such a beautiful, wonderful woman!-” -”Um… can you just take me to the police… please…”   … -”What took you so long?” Sara asked Heizou, who just came back to the police station with the criminal. -”I had to take a small detour~ Now excuse me, there is something I have to do~!” He said with a big smile. Before the Tengu warrior could ask where he was going he had already vanished. She looked at the door and then the criminal, confused. “Did he solve another case?” she wondered. Heizou of course wanted quickly to come back home and enjoy his new treasures.

Gorou came to bring the responses for the That's Life column, he hates meeting the Guuji so he prefers to bring it to Yae Publishing House himself. -”Thank you Gorou-san, Aratani will take care of them.” Kuroda said. -”No problem! …Huh?” the Watatsumi general saw the novel behind the editor. On the cover was someone very similar to you. “Is this (Y/n)? Impossible… why would she be on the cover of some novel.”  -”Ah, are you interested in this one? “ Kuroda placed the novel in front of him. The boy took a better look at it. -”Wait… it is (Y/n)!?”  He was shocked. Not only is it's image of you but you have cat ears and tail, being in a shrine maiden outfit too. He covered his mouth with his hand, face red already. You look so cute to him.  -”I can tell you’re interested in this one, don’t you?” the man smirked, seeing how General tail started to wag. -”...Y-yeah, how much?” “It's a special limited edition so… 15 000 Mora.” Gorou grumped at the price. -”Alright-” -”But wait! There's one more!” Kuroda showed the novel with you wearing uchikatte. Gorou gasped. “This one is for 20 000~” Gorou tried to tell himself that he doesn't need it, but with one look he couldn’t help himself. -”I will take this one too…” -”Haha thanks Gorou-san!” Gorou held both novels close to his chest, ears flat on his head and cheeks tainted with red. “I just hope this Kitsune won’t see me like this…” What Canine Warrior didn’t know was that Kuroda will tell Miko about his and others' reactions.

The Crux stopped in Inazuma for a week. After helping Beidou, Kazuha thought of going for a walk to enjoy the scenery of his homeland. Before leaving Beidou’s side, one of the sailors came running towards him. -”Kazuha!! Isn’t this your lass?!” he showed the novel. Both Beidou and Kazuha with curiosity looked at the cover of it. The capitan whistled. -”I didn’t know (y/n) became a model! Where did you get that?” Beidou asked, smirking at Kazuha whose cheeks clearly became a bit red. -”They are selling it in Yae publishing house, I won the lottery so I got this one for free but I saw there is another one too! If you want to get it, better go now! They don’t have that much left!” -”Alright, thank you, Drake.” -”No problem! Just go!” With that Kazuha ran towards Hanamizaka. Beidou then looked at his crew mate.  -”I never saw him run that fast. Do those have more illustrations?” -”Oh yeah! There are plenty of them!” -”Hoo~! I wonder if Kazuha let me read them too.” Beidou laughed.   ... After buying the novel Kazuha found a quiet place to read it. Every time there was an illustration he couldn’t help but admire it. There were moments that he got so immersed in your beauty that he forgot what was happening in the story. The character wasn’t anything like you but this doesn't stop him from imagining the stories where you in other circumstances both meet and fall in love with each other. The samurai sighed and closed the novel. “That should be for today or next time I see her I won’t hold back from confessing.”

In the evening Thoma was reading one of the novels he bought. In this one the Heroine is a half Yōkai that wanted to become Shrine Maiden. At some point in the story she fell in love with a commoner boy. The housekeeper couldn’t help but imagine you two in those scenarios. When there was a moment in the story where the maiden saved the boy from bandits showing her true nature, Thoma heard a knock. -”Thoma-san, Ayato-sama is asking for your assistance.“ after this sentence Thoma’s blood went cold. -”Alright, thank you.“ With nervousness he left his room and went towards Ayato’s bedroom. After knocking and asking if he could come in, he heard the permission. -”Ah Thoma! You're probably wondering why I called you at such an hour.” Ayato smiled, placing something at the table.  They were both special limited novels. Thoma tried to not show nervousness, pretending to be surprised. -”Is that…?”  -”Yes, (Y/n) was the model for this and I wanted to share it with you. Here.” Ayato placed two more books. “From your reaction I can assume you didn’t know about this right? So I got those for you.” Thoma was surprised, he wasn’t sure what game Ayato now plays. -”Thank you very much, my Lord, but I’m not sure if I can accept those.” -”Of course you can, I’m sure you’re interested in them.” -”Then thank you. Is there something more you need, my lord?” Thoma took both novels and smiled at the head of the Kamisato family. -”No, you can go… and enjoy the present I gave you.” Ayato mischievously smiled. Thoma excused himself and left the room. “He knows that I got them already! For sure!” Thoma was panicking, last time Ayato made him work so much that every night he was knocked out from exhaustion. Now he wonders what kind of ‘punishment’ he will face now… Meanwhile Ayato smiled, he was a bit angry that the housekeeper didn’t inform him about the novels but it’s alright now. After all, he bought all of the limited editions that were available. He doesn't want any more people to see your lovely image in these novels. As for Thoma… Ayato won’t do anything, he knows that his servant is panicking now, wondering what the head of Kamisato will order him to do and this is his ‘punishment’.  Young lord took one of the novels looking through the pages he couldn't help but let out a chuckle. -”Guuji -sama is a really mischievous person. I wouldn't be surprised if others got their hands on other copies.” Ayato continued reading where he stopped before. Looking at illustrations he thinks about buying you some more lovely clothes that will suit you. 

In the morning people could hear someone shouting from excitement. -”Thank you Shinobu! You’re the best!!!” Itto said holding both novels in his hands while the boys were victorious dancing around him. The gang’s deputy only sighed.  -”Don’t forget that you still have work to do.” -”Yeah yeah don’t worry!” The Oni already stopped listening to the person who helped him get those novels. Shinobu glared at him, she swiftly took the novels from his hands. -”O-oi I haven't seen everything yet! Ugh-!” Itto took a step back after seeing the young woman's eyes. -”After you finish your work I will give them back to you.” With that she left. -”Shinobu! Don’t be like that! Hey!” Itto and guys followed after her, hoping they would persuade her to give back the novels. She didn’t. 

At some point it became lively in TeaPot. You noticed that guys from Inazuma started to visit it frequently. There is one thing that bothered you. Heizou and Kazuha would give you big smiles when seeing you. At first you thought they were just in a good mood. When you asked what made them smile so much they mysteriously would respond with “Nothing~! Just good to see you!”  Then there was both Gorou and Thoma. When they would see you both of them would blush and excuse themself. You wondered if you did something wrong but when confronted them Gorou would sutter and find excuses just to leave, while Thoma would awkwardly smile at you saying that you did nothing wrong. You are sure you saw Thoma slapping himself when he thought you weren’t looking.  Itto seemed like he wants to talk to you about some novel, but whenever he tries other guys would stop him, distract him with TCG and beetle battles. Ayato on other hand started to shower you with pretty kimonos and yukatas, it wouldn’t be that weird if you didn’t find a shrine maiden's clothes in one of the presents… 

Miko was drinking tea with Ei, enjoying the chaos she created. -”Miko… you did something didn’t you?” Ei asked, enjoying her dango. -”Me? Why you think so?~” -”You make that face again. Don’t make problems for (Y/n). ” -”Oh Ei… I’m just helping her and some of your subjects~” Ei looked confused at her friend. Miko continued. “It’s like in those novels you read too, if they want to win someone over they should do their best~.”  Ei looked at you, you were smiling while playing TCG with Oni, other guys watching the match and complimenting you. The Electro Archon was in deep thought. -”Like in this one where the protagonist had many wives?” she asked suddenly. Kitsune couldn’t help but chuckle. -”That would be even more interesting~ But not sure if the guys would like such an idea.” 

--Extra-- -”Oh is that (Y/n)?! She has cat ears!” Klee exclaiment looking at the photos. Albedo smiled and nodded. “Uwaa!! So many paintings! Albedo, will you show (Y/n) them?” The Spark Knight asked innocently. -”Not yet, Klee, but maybe one day I will.” Yae Miko commissioned Albedo to draw illustrations for two novels. He didn’t expect to see your photos in the letter he got from her. At first he thought about declining but after reading that you agreed to be a model for it, that it will be only for limited editions and he can keep the photos, he eventually agreed. Normally it takes longer for him to finish illustrations but painting you brought inspiration and finished all needed drawings in two days, with some extra ones he didn’t need to send to Miko.  Next time he will meet you he will ask if you want to be a model for his painting.

[rekino2114]

Veronika grebenshchikova hanging out with her Shy boyfriend( can even be the one from the confession prompt) when suddenly he's says he doesn't wanna be her boyfriend any longer. This leads to angst ridden thoughts for her and also trying to rationalize it, which kinda gives horror yandere thoughts. The thing is, she notices her boyfriends face is flushed scarlet, and then he says, "I want to be your husband"

A little spin on this is unlike with the previous ones. He intentionally phrased his proposal this way since he knows Veronika likes dramatic things like this and that she'd probably enjoy the whiplash of angst to yandere to extreme happiness.

Proposing to Veronika by saying you don't want to be her bf anymore

"I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore"

Veronika takes a while to understand your words not because she didn't hear you but because she genuinely couldn't understand what you meant

Surely you couldn't have been talking about breaking up with her, why would you? You two were perfect for each other, destined to be together, Veronika could feel that from your first meeting, from the fact that you weren't scared of her from the fact that you didn't treat her like she was weird or a freak. You saw her for who she really was and that already made her feel more loved than she ever was in her entire life.....you surely wouldn't have abandoned her like that...right?

You wouldn't have thrown her back into the pit of despair after helping her claw her way out of it, you wouldn't have left her alone again where the only thing she could do to give some kind of meaning to her life was cut herself and watch the same horror movie for the thousandth time

After those thoughts died down they were replaced with some other ones, you gave her life meaning, Veronika couldn't just let you leave like that, what kind of girlfriend would she be If she didn't do anything and let you leave her? She had to do something, you two were destined to be together and she was willing to do whatever it took to ensure that would happen

She would have stayed as close as you as possible, then you would have truly understood the connection you had, the true connection that just couldn't be broken, you would have seen the silly mistake you were about to make

Her heart started racing at all of the things she could have done to make you see the truth, she already knew many ways to get in your dorm after all, and she could hug you and cuddle you in your sleep just like she always did, who cares if you weren't technically in a relationship anymore? She was still your girlfriend no your soulmate it didn't matter what you thought

"I want to be your husband"

.........well at least she was right about one of those things

She stands there for a moment before starting to laugh and hugging you

"Darling you know there were better ways to propose right?"

"I know but I thought I should make it dramatic for you"

".....huh I suppose that was nice....all the drama, the heartbreak, the yandere thoughts, that was worthy of a horror performance"

".........what was that last thing?"

"Nothing darling, just put that ring on my finger and make it official"

You do just that as she squeals looking at it

"Ahhhh, the gem is so beautiful I promise I'll get you something just as nice"

"O-oh you don't have to"

"But I want to! It's the symbol of our eternity together so of course I want it to be great, just like our marriage will be"

"I'm glad you think so, I love you"

"I love you too, so so so much, I genuinely don't think I could live without you"

You two seal your marriage with a sweet but passionate kiss and look into each other's eyes happy to have tied the knot