#please look forward to the rest of the chapters :>

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART EIGHT ♡

paige x azzi

warning: slight homophobia, violence, sexual content

word count: 11.2k

A/N: This chapter is a combination of a few requests so I did my best to include as much as I can. I have no idea how it turned until 11k words 😭. Please leave comments and live reactions because they help so much with motivation and me coming up with ideas based off of what you guys say. I hope you enjoy and Merry Christmas if you celebrate!!

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Mid-January 2024

The soft hum of the TV filled the suite as Paige and Ice furiously clicked their controllers, their focus locked on the Fortnite match.

“C’mon, Paige, I’m carrying us here!” Ice teased, leaning forward on the couch.

“Relax! I’m flanking them!” Paige shot back, her tongue peeking out in concentration.

Azzi, meanwhile, was curled up at the far end of the couch, her legs draped lazily over Paige’s lap. Her book rested on her stomach, her brow furrowing as she turned the page. It had been a tough game yesterday and the team had gotten a little banged up from the lack of calls from the refs so Geno gave them the day off to rest considering it was the later half of the season. 

The buzzing of Azzi’s phone interrupted the peaceful moment. She glanced at the screen, frowning at the name that lit up.

Caroline: Hey, wyd.

Azzi tilted her head, confused. Caroline rarely texted her—she’d just show up. She tapped back a quick reply.

Azzi: Umm…nothing?

A few moments later, her phone buzzed again.

Caroline: Come to my room.

Azzi groaned aloud, earning a side-eye glance from Paige.

“What’s up?” Paige asked, glancing at her girlfriend quickly before refocusing on the screen.

“Caroline wants me to come to her room,” Azzi muttered, typing a response.

Azzi: Not happening. I’m comfortable.

A longer pause this time, before her phone buzzed again.

Caroline: Come on, Azzi. It’s important.

Azzi let out a long sigh, running a hand over her face. “She says it’s important.”

“Then tell her to come here,” Paige said with a shrug, barely missing a beat in their game.

Azzi hesitated, then tapped out her reply.

Azzi: Come to mine if it’s so important.

A single word response came back almost immediately.

Caroline: Fine.

Azzi tossed her phone onto the coffee table, crossing her arms. “She’s coming over.”

About ten minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. Ice barely glanced up, muttering, “It’s open,” before returning to their Fortnite match.

Caroline walked in, her expression unreadable as she scanned the room. “Hey,” she said simply.

“Hey,” Azzi replied, sitting up slightly.

Paige and Ice didn’t look up from the game, their greetings reduced to low grunts of acknowledgment.

Caroline didn’t bother responding to the lackluster reception. Instead, she locked eyes with Azzi and subtly motioned toward her room. Azzi raised an eyebrow in confusion, her book slipping closed on her lap.

“What’s up?” Azzi asked cautiously.

Caroline just gave her a pointed look, a silent request.

Azzi sighed, setting the book aside. As she tried to swing her legs off Paige’s lap, Paige’s hands shot out, gently grabbing her legs and keeping them in place.

“Where you going?” Paige asked, her attention still half on the screen but her tone tinged with curiosity.

Azzi’s lips curled into a small smile, amused by Paige’s clinginess. “I’m going to talk to Caroline really quickly.”

Paige hummed at this, her focus already shifting back to the game as she reluctantly let Azzi go.

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, leaning down to give Paige a quick kiss on the head. “Don’t miss me too much,” she teased before getting up.

“Just don’t take too long,” Paige muttered, mashing the buttons on her controller as Ice shouted something about a bad move.

Azzi shook her head with a laugh and motioned for Caroline to follow her, leading her to her room. She closed the door behind them and turned, leaning against it with her arms crossed. “Alright, Car, what’s so important?”

Caroline wasted no time, her voice direct. “So, is there any news on the Paige front?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, already regretting agreeing to this. “Seriously, Caroline? This is what you made me come in here for? I told you to drop it last time.”

Caroline pressed on, her tone exasperated. “Because, Azzi, you’re not taking this seriously. Everything isn’t just about the ‘amazing’ sex you’re having.”

Azzi huffed, a flicker of irritation crossing her face as she straightened up. “Alright, I’m done. I’m not having this conversation with you again.” She turned on her heel, heading for the door.

“Wait!” Caroline’s voice came quickly, stopping Azzi in her tracks. “I invited Josh here.”

Azzi froze mid-step, her shoulders tensing. Slowly, she turned back around, her eyes narrowing as she stared at Caroline. “You did what?” Her voice was sharp, laced with disbelief.

Caroline shrugged, though she looked slightly defensive. “He’s in town. We…kind of kept in touch after you guys broke up.”

Azzi’s expression darkened, and she took a step closer to Caroline. “And that gave you the bright idea to invite him to hang out? Are you serious?”

“He was asking about you,” Caroline explained quickly, her tone edging on defensive now. “And you two didn’t really end on bad terms, so I didn’t see the problem.”

Azzi stared at her, clearly trying to rein in her anger. “The problem,” she said slowly, emphasizing every word, “is that I have a girlfriend now, Caroline.”

Caroline gave her a pointed look. “No, you and Paige are hooking up.”

“No,” Azzi snapped, cutting her off. “Paige is my girlfriend, Caroline. Jesus Christ.”

Caroline blinked, momentarily stunned. “Wait, when did that happen?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Azzi shot back, “but on New Year’s Eve.”

Caroline crossed her arms, her expression shifting to one of hurt. “And you didn’t think to tell me? I’m supposed to be your best friend, Azzi.”

Azzi shook her head, frustration and disappointment mingling in her voice. “Because you’ve made it very clear you don’t approve of my relationship with Paige. So, no, I didn’t feel the need to tell you right away.”

Caroline raised her hands defensively, her expression softening. “Come on, Azzi, you know it wasn’t like that. I just didn’t want you to get hurt being in some situationship with Paige.”

Azzi’s brow furrowed, and she took a step closer, her voice sharp. “First of all, it’s not a situationship. It never was and I told you that. And second, if you’re so concerned about me getting hurt, why are you constantly inserting yourself into my business and making it harder for me? You don’t see Nika breathing down Paige’s neck every two seconds do you?”

Caroline sighed, her voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t want you to regret anything. You’ve always been so focused, and I’ve seen people drag you down before and I don’t want it to happen again. Paige just doesn't have a history of being consistent.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, her tone deadpan. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Caroline. But it’s not your call to make and it’s really not your business. Paige and I are together, and it’s serious. So Josh being anywhere near her isn’t happening. You need to fix this.”

Caroline shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor. “I already kind of made arrangements…”

Azzi’s expression darkened. “What kind of arrangements?”

“He’s staying in my room,” Caroline admitted sheepishly. “I told him he didn’t need to book a hotel while he’s here. I was just going to crash in Jana’s room for the night,” Caroline added quickly, trying to defuse the tension.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, so thoughtful of you to disrupt your own living situation for him. What’s your point, Caroline?”

“Come on Azzi It’s just one night,” Caroline said, her voice edging on pleading. “It shouldn’t be a big deal. We can all hang out as friends.”

Azzi stared at her in disbelief. “You really don’t see the issue here, do you?”

Caroline hesitated, then tried again. “I didn’t think it would be a problem! I thought it could be… I don’t know, neutral ground.”

“Neutral ground?” Azzi repeated incredulously, her tone rising slightly. “Caroline, Josh is my ex. And Paige is my girlfriend. Why would I want to be in the same room as the two of them? Let alone have them interact at all? You know how Josh is, it was the whole point of me breaking up with him.”

Caroline bit her lip, her defensiveness crumbling. “I just… I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Azzi tilted her head, her voice calm but icy. “Why are you pushing this so hard? Just tell him I said no.”

Caroline hesitated, then blurted out, “I already kinda told him you agreed and that you were excited to see him.”

Azzi’s eyes widened, and she let out a bitter laugh, bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “What the fuck, Caroline? What is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t think it would be a big deal!” Caroline said, her voice rising in frustration. “I figured we’d all just hang out, and it wouldn’t be awkward. You’re making this bigger than it has to be.”

Azzi dropped her hand and fixed Caroline with a steely gaze. “Bigger than it has to be? You lied to my ex-boyfriend about me agreeing to this, without even talking to me, and now you’re acting like I’m the unreasonable one?”

Caroline took a step back, her voice softening. “I wasn’t trying to cause problems. I thought maybe it would be… good closure for you.”

Azzi snorted, her disbelief turning to anger. “Closure? For what? I’ve moved on. Paige and I are happy, and we don’t have any problems anymore. The last thing I need is you bringing Josh into the mix.”

Caroline’s face fell, her voice tinged with hurt. “I just thought… I don’t know. I’m supposed to be your best friend, and I didn’t even know about you and Paige making it official so I didn’t think this would bother you so much.”

Azzi shook her head, her frustration spilling into her voice. “Exactly. You’re supposed to be my best friend. But instead of supporting me, you’re meddling in my relationship and acting like you know what’s best for me. Newsflash: you clearly don’t.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Azzi’s words hanging in the air. Finally, Azzi exhaled sharply, muttering something under her breath before turning toward the door. “I need to talk to Paige.”

“Azzi, wait—” Caroline started, but Azzi didn’t look back as she left the room, her frustration radiating off her as she headed back to the living room.

As she walked back into the living room, her posture stiff and her face clouded with frustration, Paige immediately looked up from the TV, her focus on the Fortnite game evaporating. Her brow furrowed as she studied Azzi’s expression, the way her lips were pressed together and her shoulders were tense. Paige knew her girlfriend well enough to tell when something was bothering her.

“What’s wrong?” Paige asked, her voice soft but direct, concern lacing her words.

Azzi sighed, as she glanced briefly at Ice, who was still focused on the game. “Nothing, I just… I need to talk to you really quick,” she said, her voice quieter now.

Paige nodded without hesitation, already standing and tossing her controller on the couch. “Ice, do singles for a while,” she said, barely sparing her roommate a glance as she reached for Azzi’s hand.

Ice waved her off with a nonchalant grunt, muttering something about carrying the team anyway, but Paige wasn’t listening. She gently squeezed Azzi’s hand, her touch grounding, and gave her a small, reassuring smile as she started leading her toward her room.

Azzi let herself be guided, her chest loosening slightly at the way Paige always seemed to know when to step in without pushing too hard. It was one of the things she loved most about her.

Once they were in Paige’s room, Paige shut the door behind them and leaned back against it, crossing her arms as she studied Azzi. Her concern was evident, her voice gentle. “Alright what’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to punch something.”

Azzi let out a long breath, her hands finding the edge of Paige’s desk as she leaned against it. “It’s Caroline. Remember how I told you how she’s been bugging me about us” she began, her voice slightly tight. “She wasn’t getting the answers she wanted, so somehow that led to her inviting Josh to hangout with us.”

Paige tilted her head, her eyebrows drawing together slightly. “Josh? Your ex from UMD? That Josh?”

Azzi nodded, the irritation on her face clear.

Paige blinked, pushing off the door and walking over to stand in front of her. “Wait, why? What’s the deal with that?”

“She said he’s in town, and they’ve kept in touch,” Azzi said, her tone edged with frustration. “Apparently, he asked about me, and she thought it’d be fine to bring him around for us to ‘catch up.’ She’s just now throwing this at me and apparently she already told him I agreed.” 

Paige looks kind of shocked, her hands finding their way to Azzi’s waist. “That’s…a choice,” she said, trying to keep her tone light but clearly not impressed. “So, what? She just decided to volunteer for this reunion without even checking in?”

Azzi nodded, her hands lifting in exasperation. “Exactly! And now I’m supposed to just be okay with it? Like, why would I want to hang out with my ex? Especially with you there. It’s just weird.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles over Azzi’s hips. “Yeah, I get why that’d bug you. But honestly, baby, I’m not stressed about it. Josh doesn’t bother me.”

Azzi gave her a skeptical look. “You’re not even a little annoyed?”

“Not really,” Paige said with a shrug. “I mean, yeah, it’s annoying Caroline didn’t talk to you first. But Josh? I hadn’t really given him a second thought. You’re with me, and we both know that.”

Azzi sighed, leaning into Paige’s touch a little. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” she admitted.

Paige raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Oh? Then who?”

“Josh,” Azzi said flatly. “He can be… a lot.. You know I broke up with him for a reason.”

Paige nodded, her expression softening. “You’ve mentioned it. He was kind of an asshole, right?”

“Exactly,” Azzi muttered. “I just don’t want him pulling anything while he’s around you. He used to be super territorial, and now with you in the picture… I don’t know. It’s just a bad vibe.”

Paige stepped closer, brushing her hands up Azzi’s arms before cupping her face gently. “Listen, you don’t have to worry, okay? If he acts out, we’ll handle it. But he doesn’t get to ruin your day or mess with what you have going on.”

Azzi looked at her, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “You’re annoyingly good at calming me down, you know that?”

Paige grinned, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Azzi’s lips. “It’s a gift,” she teased.

Azzi laughed quietly, resting her forehead against Paige’s for a moment. “Caroline wants to make it some big group thing, like invite the team and make it casual. I don’t know… maybe that could work.”

Paige nodded thoughtfully. “Honestly? That’s probably the best way to handle it. We get a bunch of people there, make it super low-key, and it won’t feel weird. Plus, with the team around, Josh won’t really have a chance to pull anything.”

Azzi exhaled slowly, nodding. “Alright. But you promise you’ll tell me if he steps out of line or upsets you?”

“Baby,” Paige said with a grin, “I’ll handle him before you even notice. But if it makes you feel better, I promise to be on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.” She held up her hand, smirking. “No starting drama.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “You? Drama? Never.”

Paige laughed. “Exactly. I’m practically a saint. You don’t have to worry about me, okay?”

Azzi smiled, finally feeling a little more at ease, Paige giving her a quick kiss before stepping back. “Come on, let’s go back out there. Ice probably thinks we’re making out or something.”

Azzi smirked, the playful glint in her eyes softening some of the lingering tension. “Well, we weren’t, but we can let her wonder.”

As they walked out of the room, the cozy light of the living room greeted them. Caroline was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. The sight of her made Paige’s jaw tighten instinctively, but she didn’t say anything, choosing instead to keep her focus ahead. 

Azzi noticed, her gaze flicking between Paige and Caroline. While Paige wore her emotions plainly, Azzi forced herself to remain composed. Caroline had been her friend for years—too long for this situation to turn into something petty. Even so, the frustration simmered beneath her skin at Caroline’s blatant disrespect to Paige and Azzi’s relationship.

“Hey,” Caroline said, glancing up briefly. Her tone was casual, trying to brush off the tension between the trio.

“Hey,” Azzi replied, her voice carefully neutral.

Paige didn’t say anything, stepping around the couch to stand near Ice, who was still engrossed in her game. “We’re going out tonight,” she announced, her tone clipped.

Ice didn’t look away from the screen, raising a lazy hand in acknowledgment. “Cool. Have fun. Don’t get arrested.”

“No, I mean you’re coming with us,” Paige clarified, her arms crossing as she looked down at Ice.

Ice quickly glanced up at her, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, me? Why?”

“Because I said so, Isuneh,” Paige replied, her tone not leaving any room for argument. Then she smirked, adding, “And besides, you owe me for bailing on me during the last practice drill the other day.”

Ice groaned, tilting her head back against the couch dramatically. “Fine, but only if you’re buying my first drink.”

“Deal,” Paige said with a smirk.

Azzi chuckled softly, her tension easing as she watched the banter. She moved to sit on the couch next to Paige, their knees brushing. Without thinking, Paige’s hand drifted to Azzi’s, her fingers lightly grazing the back of her hand in a small, reassuring gesture.

Paige reached for her phone with her free hand, her fingers flying over the screen. Azzi tilted her head slightly, leaning closer so their shoulders bumped as she glanced at the screen.

“Who are you texting?” Azzi asked, her tone light but her curiosity evident.

Paige grinned, never missing the way Azzi casually peered at her phone now, a stark contrast to what she was like before. “Just a few people from the team. Letting them know we’re making plans tonight,” she said, her thumb still moving.

Azzi nodded in understanding. 

Caroline glanced up again, sensing the quiet coordination happening between the couple. “You’re organizing something?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Paige said shortly, still typing.

Azzi shot Paige a warning glance, brushing her hand lightly against Paige’s thigh—a subtle gesture to ease the tension. “Yeah we figured we’d make it a group thing like you said,” Azzi said smoothly, her voice even. “Try to keep it casual.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further, returning to her phone.

Paige finally set her phone down, turning her attention to Azzi. Her expression softened as she leaned in slightly, keeping her voice low enough that only Azzi could hear. “I’ll be on my best behavior tonight, I promise. No stress, okay?”

Azzi smiled, the reassurance warming her chest. “Thanks,” she murmured, her fingers briefly brushing Paige’s.

Later that night, Caroline texted the group chat Paige created, suggesting they should head out soon because Josh had just gotten there. Paige was lounging on her bed, scrolling aimlessly on her phone as she waited for Azzi, but her attention shifted the moment she stepped in the room.

Azzi had opted for an extremely casual look, wearing Paige’s black Nike tech with a black crop top underneath the slightly unzipped jacket. The outfit fit her effortlessly, and Paige’s smirk grew as her eyes roamed over Azzi’s body.

Azzi caught her staring and raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “You’re really not even gonna try to be subtle about it, are you?”

Paige shrugged, completely unbothered, as she let her gaze linger. “Why would I? You always look good in my clothes.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head as she walked over to Paige. “You’re like a teenage boy,” she muttered, stopping directly in front of her.

Paige immediately sat up straighter, her hands resting lightly on Azzi’s waist as Azzi stood between her legs. There was an electricity in the air as Azzi leaned down, slowly on purpose, hovering just close enough for Paige to feel the heat of her breath.

The kiss that followed wasn’t just casual; it was intense, leaving Paige a little dazed when Azzi finally pulled back. Paige blinked, her lips slightly swollen, and stared up at Azzi like she was her whole world.

Azzi snorted, brushing a hand against Paige’s cheek. “You’re so easy baby.”

Paige grinned, unashamed. “Only for you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes fondly before pulling away. “Come on, we’ve gotta go before Caroline starts blowing up my phone again.”

Paige sighed dramatically as she grabbed her jacket and stood. “Fine, but next time, I’m making us late on purpose if you pull something like that.”

Azzi laughed, leading the way to the door, but as soon as they stepped out, they both paused.

“Ice!” Paige called, her voice echoing down the hall.

Azzi joined in, shouting playfully, “Hurry up child! We’re leaving!”

Ice’s groan could be heard from her room, followed by her muttering something unintelligible.

“Don’t make me come drag you out of there, Isuneh!” Paige added with a grin, her tone half-teasing.

“We’re not waiting all night missy!” Azzi chimed in, her voice laced with humor.

Finally, Ice appeared in the hallway, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You two are so annoying,” she muttered.

Paige smirked, throwing an arm around Azzi’s shoulders as they waited. “You’ll miss us when we’re gone,” she teased, earning a roll of Ice’s eyes as they headed out together.

The three of them arrived at Ted’s with Nika and KK in tow. The atmosphere inside was unusually calm, a stark contrast to the typical buzz of celebrations that filled the space after big wins. But tonight, there were no loud cheers or packed tables, just a relaxed hum of conversation and soft music.

Paige scanned the room as they stepped inside, spotting Caroline, Aaliyah, Aubrey, Ayanna, and Jana sitting at a table near the back with Josh. She had intentionally left most of the younger players out of tonight’s plans, except for KK, who had practically begged to come along once she heard about it. Saying something about how she had to fight off the ‘negative attention.’

As they made their way toward the table, Azzi’s mood subtly shifted. Her gaze landed on Josh sitting next to Caroline, and her jaw tightened slightly in irritation at the whole situation. Without a word, she moved closer to Paige, sliding her hand around her bicep, grip firm but casual. The motion was smooth but deliberate, a clear declaration that Azzi wasn’t single anymore.

Paige felt the subtle tension radiating from Azzi and leaned in close, her voice low but steady. “Relax,” she murmured, her words for Azzi’s ears only. “Everything will be fine baby.”

Azzi glanced at her, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Just making sure everyone gets the message.”

As the group approached the table, Ice, Nika, and KK introduced themselves to Josh first, with Paige and Azzi hanging back slightly. When the introductions were over, Josh turned toward Azzi, his arms lifting slightly with a smirk on his face as if expecting a hug. Azzi, however, didn’t release her hold on Paige’s arm. Instead, she offered Josh a polite smile. “Nice to see you Josh,” she said lightly, her tone pleasant but distant.

Josh’s smile faltered for a moment before he turned his attention to Paige, who stepped forward, extending her hand not being held by Azzi confidently. “Wassup, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Paige.”

Josh looked at her hand before shaking it briefly, his expression neutral. “Josh,” he said simply.

The two exchanged a quick look, and while they were roughly the same height, the differences between them couldn’t have been more striking. Paige’s piercing blue eyes and blonde hair contrasted sharply with Josh’s dark brown eyes and hair. Her features were sharp and defined, exuding a natural charm that everyone felt, while his softer features and seemingly slick demeanor radiated a sense of cockiness.

After the handshake, Paige gave Azzi a small, knowing smile before they made their way to the bar to grab drinks.

When they returned, drinks in hand, Ice had already taken her seat with a satisfied grin on her face after getting the drink Paige had promised, even talking her way into a second later on. The group started to settle in around the high standing table, the vibe still casual and comfortable. Caroline, seeing only one open space beside Josh, began to move a seat over. However, Azzi quickly stepped in.

“It’s fine,” Azzi said smoothly, her tone carrying just enough authority to make Caroline pause. She settled comfortably in between Paige’s legs in the available seat, leaning back, her posture at ease as she claimed the space.

The team, already well aware of Paige and Azzi’s relationship and their dynamic, gave the two women a knowing look. The subtle, intimate gesture didn’t go unnoticed, and it was clear Azzi was making herself right at home in Paige’s personal space on purpose. Paige, feeling the heat of Azzi’s body against hers, slid a hand along her side, resting it casually on Azzi’s hip.

Josh, however, seemed a bit confused. He glanced between Paige and Azzi, clearly trying to figure out their relationship dynamic. He knew girls were touchy sometimes so he brushed it off. 

Azzi, comfortably nestled between Paige's legs, let out a soft sigh as she leaned her head back against Paige's shoulder. The familiar warmth of Paige’s presence was grounding, and for a moment, she closed her eyes to settle herself for the night. But Josh, eager to make conversation, interrupted the calm.

"So, Azzi, how’ve you been?" Josh asked, leaning forward slightly with an expectant smile.

Azzi lifted her head off Paige’s shoulder and turned to him, her tone polite but neutral. “Pretty good, you?” She didn’t make it a question—just a simple exchange to keep things civil.

Josh, clearly eager to get the conversation rolling, leaned in a little closer. “I’ve been good, just keeping busy with everything. You know how it is. How’s everything going at UConn? How’s your season been?” 

Azzi’s response was quick, and while still kind, her words were clipped, her focus shifting slightly toward Paige’s hand on her hip that was subtly rubbing circles that no one else could see. “It’s been good. The season’s going well, we’re staying focused which is always good.”

Josh’s smile lingered as he picked up on her more reserved energy, but he pressed on, undeterred. “That’s awesome,” he said, his voice casual, trying to keep things flowing. “I bet the competition’s tougher this year. You guys look strong, though. I’ve watched a few of your games—you're playing well.”

Azzi nodded, offering a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks,” she said. Her eyes briefly scanned the room trying to think of something to say, clearly not as invested in the exchange as Josh seemed to be. “We’re just taking it one game at a time you know.”

Josh leaned in a little more, trying to read the situation. “Yeah, I get that. You’ve been putting up some great numbers too, huh?” He gestured toward her, a little more animated now. “Your stats this season are looking solid. How do you feel about all the extra attention Uconn brings? I feel like you guys have fangirls everywhere.”

Azzi gave a small, polite smile, her shoulders shifting slightly as she leaned back a little against Paige again. "I’m just doing what the team needs. The attention is definitely a part of the game now, but I’m more focused on what’s happening on the court, you know?”

Josh continued talking, clearly making an effort to keep the conversation going with Azzi, he figured it was just taking her a while to warm up to him again. Paige remained relaxed, a little distracted by Ice and KK who were talking to her about something that happened in a class they were taking together, but she made sure she stayed slightly tuned in to Azzi’s conversation just in case she needed to step in.

In a quiet moment between Josh’s ramblings to some other people on the team about playing football at UMD, Paige’s hand moved a little further down Azzi’s waist, now touching the skin visible from the crop top. Azzi, feeling the familiar warmth of Paige’s hand, relaxed slightly and leaned further back against her, resting her head on Paige’s shoulder. It wasn’t anything grand—just a moment of closeness that felt completely natural in their dynamic. 

As Azzi settled, her eyes closed for a moment, the softness of Paige’s body grounding her. But just as quickly, she felt a familiar tug on her chest—her hand found its way to Paige’s, instinctively intertwining their fingers. There was no grand thought behind it, just a simple urge to connect with some she loved, naturally wanting to be closer to the older girl at all times.

The movement caught Josh’s attention, and when he saw Azzi lean into Paige like that, he blinked, his face shifting slightly. Without thinking, Paige turned her head, brushing a gentle kiss against Azzi’s temple—a soft gesture letting the younger girl know she was thinking about her. 

Before Paige could go back to talking Azzi turned her head just slightly, meeting Paige’s lips for a brief but sweet kiss. The kiss lingered for a moment longer than expected, and the quiet warmth between them seemed to fill the space around them. It was the kind of simple intimacy they shared when no one was watching. 

Josh’s eyes widened in surprise at the kiss, clearly caught off guard. His natural smirk faltered as he processed the moment, his lips parting as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, unable to mask his confusion.

“Azzi I didn’t know you swung for the other team now,” Josh remarked, his tone casual but tinged with uncertainty. “Caroline didn’t mention anything about that.”

Paige’s jaw tightened at his comment, her posture stiffening. Her gaze flickered to Caroline, who was now avoiding eye contact, clearly uncomfortable with the situation she created. 

Azzi, however, remained calm and unfazed. She leaned into Paige just a little more, her hand gently playing with Paige’s as she responded smoothly, her voice pleasant but matter-of-fact.

“I thought Caroline told you,” Azzi said with a smile. “Paige is my girlfriend.”

Josh, still a little thrown off by the exchange, hummed in response, his expression unreadable. “Right,” he muttered, his mind clearly racing as he processed the information. “Guess I missed that part.”

Paige, her initial irritation fading, kept her gaze on Josh for a moment longer, silently daring him to push further. But Azzi, sensing the tension, shifted her weight just enough to brush against Paige’s side to calm her. 

Azzi gave Paige a quiet smile before nodding her head toward the bar. “Let’s grab another drink,” she said, her voice light, almost as if nothing had happened.

…

Later that night, the atmosphere at Ted’s had shifted slightly. Josh, a few drinks in, was slightly more relaxed, but his usual cocky energy started to surface in small, deliberate comments. It was subtle, a few jabs here and there, but enough to let Paige and Azzi know he wasn’t just trying to be friendly.

Josh nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to Paige before returning to Azzi. “I’m sure it’s pretty intense being on a team like that. Lot of pressure, huh?” His gaze lingered a little too long on Azzi, and then, as though it were an afterthought, he threw in, “I wouldn’t have let you wear something like that when we were together. Not that it’s my business, but, yeah, I’d definitely have said something before you left the house.”

Azzi’s lips pressed together slightly, the only sign she was acknowledging his jab. Paige felt her jaw tighten, but she didn’t respond immediately, allowing Azzi the space to handle the situation. Azzi’s voice remained light, almost too calm.

“Lucky for me, we’re not together anymore,” Azzi said, her words casual. 

Josh let out a short laugh, clearly not expecting the lack of reaction. His smile didn’t falter, but there was a hint of frustration creeping into his words. He took a swig of his drink before addressing them again, his eyes narrowing in on Paige as if testing her limits.

“So, what’s the deal, Paige?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock curiosity. “How’d you get Azzi to flip sides? I mean, I didn’t think you were her type.” His tone was dismissive, trying to provoke a reaction. “Did you, like, convince her or something? Or was it just... one of those ‘I just happened to fall for you after experimenting kind of things?”

Azzi’s hand, which had been resting lightly on Paige’s side, tightened just slightly, a subtle show of protectiveness that only Paige could feel. Azzi didn’t need to say anything; her presence alone was enough to calm Paige down.

Paige’s expression remained neutral, though she couldn’t suppress the brief flicker of annoyance that flashed in her eyes. She shifted slightly, her gaze unwavering as she answered with a calm, collected voice.

“I don’t think Azzi needs convincing,” Paige said coolly, her words deliberate. “She’s fully capable of making her own decisions, just like anyone else.” She met Josh’s gaze, her jaw setting firmly, not giving him an inch of satisfaction. “But if you’re really curious, Azzi and I... well, we’re just kind of right for each other. Simple as that.”

Josh’s smirk faltered for a moment, his attempt at baiting them clearly not working. But he wasn’t one to back down easily. He leaned in a little closer, his posture slightly more aggressive as he continued to press.

“So, what’s next then? You two going to, like, do the whole couple thing publicly now?” His eyes flickered between the two of them, his expression almost playful in a way that made it clear he was trying to get under their skin. “I bet that’ll be fun. UConn’s golden girl and the big recruit—don’t think the fans won’t notice that.”

Paige, still unfazed, met his challenge head-on. “We’re not really concerned with what other people think,” she said smoothly, her hand squeezing Azzi’s slightly. “We like to keep things private so I doubt we’ll do too much with that.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes as she teased, “I mean, maybe we’ll get some pictures here and there to keep everyone guessing.”

Josh’s lips twitched as if he were about to say something more, but he stopped himself. The tension between the three of them had shifted—Azzi and Paige were calm, in control, and clearly not bothered by his attempts to get under their skin. Josh could feel the shift, but his pride wouldn’t let him back down completely.

“Right,” Josh muttered, his voice softer now, though still carrying a hint of amusement. “I guess it’s none of my business anyway.”

Azzi leaned back slightly, her head resting against Paige’s shoulder again as she returned to her comfortable position between her legs. “Exactly,” she said, her voice settling into a more relaxed tone. “It’s really not.”

The brief silence that followed was thick with unspoken understanding. Josh, finally realizing that he wasn’t going to get a rise out of them, took a step back. He raised his drink and gave a short, almost dismissive nod.

“Well, alright then,” he muttered. “Have fun with that.” As he moved away going to talk to Caroline, one of the few people who was being slightly welcoming to him tonight. 

…

The bar had quieted down as the night wore on, and the team was beginning to gather their things, silently agreeing that it was time to head out having been there long enough. Azzi had just gone to the bathroom with a few of them, and as she disappeared, Josh took the opportunity to approach Paige, who was standing off to the side, scrolling through her phone.

He slid up to her, a half-smirk still lingering from his earlier conversations, clearly feeling more relaxed after a few drinks. “So,” he started, his voice casual but his words pointed, “you must be pretty good at what you do to get Azzi.”

Paige didn’t look up, keeping her gaze fixed on her phone as she replied flatly, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Josh shrugged, leaning in slightly as if to share some secret with her. “I mean, it's just kind of funny, right? You two? Never would have guessed she’d swing that way after being with me. You must’ve really worked something crazy on her huh?”

Paige’s fingers tightened around her phone, but she kept her expression neutral, not allowing herself to rise to the bait. Her silence didn’t seem to dismiss his words as he continued.

Josh’s smirk only grew. “Yeah, well, like I said earlier I would’ve never let Azzi wear a damn crop top when we were together,” he continued, his voice dripping with an air of superiority. “I used to tell her she wasn’t the type to dress like that. Must be nice to see her letting loose a little.”

Paige took a slow, steady breath but still didn’t respond, refusing to engage with the obvious attempts to get under her skin. The tension was there, but she refused to give Josh the satisfaction of reacting.

“Must be pretty much what you’re used to though, huh?” Josh added, his tone playful but laced with a sharp edge. “I’m sure you had all kinds of hoes giving it up for you.”

Paige’s jaw clenched, but her lips stayed sealed.

Azzi walked out of the bathroom and immediately saw the shift in Paige’s demeanor. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she approached, noticing the tightness in Paige’s jaw. Moving swiftly, Azzi placed a hand gently on Paige’s arm, asking softly, “You good?”

Paige gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m good, baby. Let’s just go.”

Azzi nodded in acknowledgment, but before they could leave, Azzi turned to Josh, her smile polite but distant as she prepared to say goodbye. “Nice seeing you Josh,” she said casually, but Josh wasn’t done yet.

He leaned in slightly, clearly trying to provoke. “Guess this trip was a waste,” he said, his voice louder now for the whole table to hear. “Wouldn’t have come all the way out here if I knew you were a dyke now.”

Paige’s jaw clenched, her entire demeanor shifting at the comment directed at Azzi.  Her eyes locked onto Josh, and without even thinking, she took a step toward him, her gaze burning into his. The polite mask she had been wearing all night cracked completely.

“What the fuck did you just say to her?” Paige’s voice was low but laced with venom, her anger barely contained as she stepped closer to Josh, her body tense and ready to snap.

Azzi, quick to react, stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Paige’s chest, trying to keep her grounded. “Baby, it’s fine,” Azzi said softly, her voice calming but firm. “Just let it go.”

Josh, still too drunk and slightly embarrassed about coming out, smirked and leaned in a little closer to Paige, clearly trying to get under her skin. “Damn, that’s wild,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm, “she must be crazy in bed now if she’s got you reacting like this. I’d love to try her out again”

That was the last straw. Paige’s hand shot out, pushing Josh away with a force that sent him stumbling back a few steps. Without missing a beat, she swung her fist at his jaw, the movement swift before anyone could stop her. 

The impact was hard, but the sharp sting in her knuckles made her regret the move almost immediately. Josh’s head snapped back, and he staggered into some chairs, momentarily stunned as he held his jaw. Paige’s breath was coming in ragged bursts as she stood there, her knuckles aching from the punch. 

The room was silent for a moment, nobody expecting that to happen. The team had already started to move in, aware of the situation escalating. Nika and Aaliyah were quickly making their way over ready to get Paige out of there before it got worse. But Josh wasn’t done yet.

He slowly wiped his mouth as he sneered at Paige, his lip already starting to bleed. "Damn, didn’t think you had it in you, Paige. I been trying to get that outta you all night. I always thought Azzi was more of a… let’s say, experimental type. But now I see she got you wrapped around her finger. You should’ve seen what she was like when we were together. She wasn’t that great–”

Paige’s blood boiled all over again and without hesitation, she swung her fist at his face again, the pain in her knuckles no longer registering as her anger overpowered everything else. The punch landed square on his jaw with a crack, and Josh's head snapped back once more, this time blood gushing from his nose.

Josh staggered again, now clearly dazed and in pain, but his arrogant smirk was gone. He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, glaring at Paige. "Yo you’re fucking crazy."

Paige didn't care anymore. Her anger had eclipsed everything else, but Nika and Aaliyah were there, moving quickly to pull her back.

"Come on, Paige. Let’s go," Nika said firmly, her hand on Paige's arm, leading her away from the scene. Aaliyah and the rest of the team was right behind, ensuring that she couldn’t get close to him again.

Azzi followed them, her eyes briefly flicking to Josh, now leaning against the bar with his nose dripping blood. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. Her focus was entirely on Paige, making sure she was okay.

As they reached the door, Nika shot one last look over her shoulder at Josh. "You're lucky we didn't let her really go for it," she muttered before pulling Paige through the door, with Azzi right behind them.

Outside, the cool night air hit them, but the adrenaline still surged through Paige’s veins. The tension in the bar had followed them out, but now, with each step away from the confrontation, Paige's anger began to dissipate, replaced by a quiet, simmering frustration.

"I’m sorry Az, I didn’t mean to—" Paige began, her voice tense as she glanced at Azzi, "I just… I couldn't let him talk about you like that."

Azzi squeezed her hand, offering a small smile. "I know, baby. I know. 

Paige let out a heavy sigh, flexing her fingers despite the ache in her knuckles. The sharp sting of the split skin reminded her of the impulsiveness of her actions, but the rush of relief in standing up for Azzi outweighed the pain. "I just… I can’t let anyone talk about you like that. Not if I can help it."

Azzi’s expression softened as she stepped closer, her voice low and soothing. "I get it baby, thank you for standing up for me" she murmured, her fingers gently brushing Paige’s wrist. 

As they stood outside in the cool night air waiting for the cars to be pulled around, Azzi took Paige’s hand in hers, inspecting it carefully. One knuckle was split, a small trail of blood streaking her skin, and the swelling was already starting to set in. Azzi’s brows knitted together, her touch featherlight as she turned Paige’s hand slightly to get a better look. "You really did a number on him, huh?" she said softly, trying to add a bit of levity.

Before Paige could respond, Caroline approached hesitantly, guilt etched across her face. "Azzi, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. For Josh and how—"

Azzi didn’t even glance up at first, her attention still fixed on Paige’s injured hand. But as Caroline tried again, Azzi’s eyes snapped up, sharp and cold—a stark contrast to the tenderness she’d been showing Paige. "Caroline," Azzi said, her tone clipped and firm. "Please, just leave me alone."

Caroline opened her mouth to speak, but Azzi cut her off, her voice steady but laced with irritation. "Not right now. I’m pissed, and I really don’t have the energy for this. Just…please stop."

Caroline froze for a moment, looking between Azzi and Paige, before she finally backed away, her apology dying on her lips. Paige watched silently as Azzi’s gaze softened again, returning to her injured hand.

"You didn’t have to snap at her," Paige said quietly, though there was no real reproach in her tone.

Azzi shrugged, her focus still on the swelling. "She’s part of why this all happened. She can wait until I’m ready to deal with her." Her thumb brushed gently over Paige’s uninjured fingers. "Right now, you’re my priority."

…

Back at the dorm, Paige sat on her bed, her legs swinging slightly as Azzi knelt in front of her, carefully inspecting the cut on her knuckles. Azzi held an alcohol pad in one hand and a smile on her face. "Okay, hold still. I need to clean it."

Paige pulled her hand back slightly, her eyes narrowing. "It’s gonna burn. I’m telling you right now, I’m not doing that."

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "You can punch a 6’0 guy twice, but you’re scared of a little alcohol pad? You’re such a baby, Paige."

"I’m not a baby," Paige pouted, crossing her arms. "It’s just… alcohol pads put up more of a fight. They’re sneaky like that."

Still grinning, Azzi reached for Paige’s hand again. "Well, baby or not, it’s happening. Now hold still."

Paige groaned dramatically as Azzi pressed the pad to her knuckle. The instant sting had Paige hissing through her teeth, snatching her hand back. "See? I told you it was gonna burn!" she said, her voice rising playfully as she waved her hand in the air like it might cool it off.

Azzi burst out laughing, leaning back on her heels. "Paige, come on. I need to clean it so it doesn’t get infected. Do you want to explain to Geno why your hand looks like a balloon tomorrow? The swelling’s already bad enough."

Paige sighed heavily, reluctantly holding out her hand again, her lips pressed into a pout. "Fine. But only because you mentioned Geno."

Azzi smirked as she gently resumed cleaning the cut, working quickly to avoid any more theatrics. Once it was clean, she wrapped a cold compression bandage around it to hopefully subside the swelling overnight.

"There," Azzi said, standing up and pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s lips. "See? That wasn’t so bad."

Paige grumbled, her cheeks slightly pink. "Yes, it was. Those things are evil."

Azzi just laughed, shaking her head as she moved to toss the wrappers in the trash. "You’re dramatic."

Paige leaned back on the bed, her uninjured hand reaching out to tug Azzi closer. "But you love me anyway."

Azzi smiled, leaning down to kiss her again. "Of course I do."

After Azzi returned from the bathroom, she slid into bed beside Paige, pulling the covers over her. She had barely settled in when she felt Paige’s hands slip around her waist, warm and a little too low to be innocent. Azzi smiled softly, her head turning toward Paige.

"What are you up to now?" Azzi asked teasingly, her voice low and playful.

Paige grinned, her expression as innocent as she could muster. "Just wanted to hold you."

Azzi chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, one that neither of them seemed in a hurry to break. The kisses came slowly at first, gentle pecks and tender presses, but when Paige deepened the kiss, Azzi sighed against her lips, her body melting into Paige’s as she climbed on top of her, straddling her waist.

Paige’s hands settled on Azzi’s hips, her thumbs drawing slow circles on her skin. She pulled back just enough to whisper, "So… what do I get for behaving today?"

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking in amusement. "Behaving? Paige, you punched him. That’s not exactly what I’d call good behavior."

Paige groaned dramatically, throwing her head back against the pillow. "Okay, fine. But I behaved for, like, three whole hours before that. That has to count for something."

Azzi laughed softly, her smile full of affection as she leaned down, her fingers trailing along Paige’s jawline. "Hmm," she murmured, her lips brushing against Paige’s neck. "I guess it does. A little. Maybe you do deserve something."

Her kisses started slow and deliberate as she worked her way from Paige’s jaw to the curve of her neck, her lips grazing just enough to make Paige shiver. Paige’s hands tightened on Azzi’s hips, her breath catching as Azzi pressed her lips to a particularly sensitive spot.

"See?" Paige murmured, her voice dropping. "I can be good when I want to be."

Azzi hummed in response, her lips curling into a small smile against Paige’s skin. "Sure you can, baby. Sure you can.

Azzi’s lips moved with precision, trailing soft kisses along Paige’s jaw and down the curve of her neck. She lingered in certain spots, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to make Paige’s breath catch. Paige’s hands stayed firmly on Azzi’s hips, her grip tightening slightly with each kiss, though she kept her expression as composed as she could manage.

"You really love dragging this out, huh?" Paige asked, her voice tinged with amusement, though it wavered slightly.

Azzi smiled against Paige’s skin, her voice low and teasing. "Maybe a little. Why? You in a rush tonight?"

"Not at all," Paige replied, attempting to sound casual even as her breathing grew uneven. "Just wondering if this is your game plan—soft little kisses until I get bored."

Azzi raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly to meet Paige’s gaze, her smirk widening. "Bored? You’re gripping my hips like you’re afraid I’ll stop."

Paige rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed slightly. "Gripping? Please. This is light work."

Azzi hummed thoughtfully as she moved lower, her lips pressing a trail of kisses along Paige’s collarbone and down to the center of her chest as she started to slowly roll her hips. "Light work, huh? Should I keep going, or are you already bored?"

Paige’s grip tightened instinctively, betraying her calm facade. "I’m fine. Do your worst."

Azzi chuckled softly, leaning in to press another kiss just below Paige’s collarbone, her hands sliding up Paige’s sides. "Oh, I plan to." Her tone was laced with mischief, and she moved lower still, her kisses tracing the curve of Paige’s ribs.

Paige shifted slightly beneath her, her breath hitching again. "So, uh… is this your version of a 10/10 performance?"

Azzi looked up briefly, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Why? Are you not impressed?"

Paige opened her mouth to reply, but her voice caught in her throat as Azzi’s lips pressed firmly against the soft skin of her stomach, right above her waistband. Paige clenched her jaw, trying to suppress the shiver that ran through her.

Azzi noticed, of course. She always did. Her smirk grew as she moved lower, her kisses slower now, more deliberate. When she reached a spot just below Paige’s navel, she paused, her lips hovering there for a moment.

"What about now?" Azzi asked, her voice a low murmur against Paige’s skin.

Paige swallowed hard, her breath shaky as she finally managed to reply. "Still… average." Her voice cracked slightly, betraying her.

Azzi laughed softly, the sound sending vibrations through Paige’s skin. Without warning, Azzi sucked harder on the spot just below Paige’s navel, her teeth grazing ever so slightly.

Paige’s breath hitched audibly, her hands tightening on Azzi’s hips as her head tilted back against the pillow. She bit her lip, trying and failing to suppress the way her body reacted.

Azzi pulled back just enough to admire her work, the dark mark standing out against Paige’s pale skin. "Still average?" she teased, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

Paige exhaled shakily, narrowing her eyes at Azzi though the flush in her cheeks betrayed her. "You’re so damn proud of yourself, huh?"

Azzi tilted her head, her smirk widening as she leaned forward again. "Very." Her lips hovered close to Paige’s skin, her voice soft but firm. "But you like it."

Paige didn’t bother denying it this time, her voice low and breathy as she muttered, "Shut up."

Azzi’s laughter was soft and warm as she pressed another kiss to Paige’s stomach, her fingers brushing lightly along Paige’s sides. "Whatever you say, baby."

Paige’s chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm, her eyes fluttering shut as she braced herself for what she thought was coming next. But instead of moving lower, Azzi began to trail her kisses upward again, slow and deliberate, like she had all the time in the world.

Paige groaned softly, her head tilting back against the pillow as she muttered, "You trying something new? Like… you trying to kill me?"

Azzi smiled against Paige’s skin, the corners of her mouth curling in amusement. She kissed just above Paige’s navel, her voice low as she murmured, "Not at all, baby. I’m just enjoying myself."

Paige huffed, her hands flexing against the sheets. "Enjoying yourself? Well, I’m glad one of us is. This is torture"

Azzi chuckled, the sound vibrating through Paige’s body as she continued her maddeningly slow ascent, her lips leaving marks in her wake just how Paige liked. She kissed just below Paige’s ribs, then a little to the side, then higher still, her pace agonizingly slow.

"You sound a little impatient," Azzi teased, her voice laced with amusement. "That’s not like you. Thought you were good at waiting things out. You love to do this exact thing to me."

Paige opened her eyes briefly, glaring down at her girlfriend, though the flush on her cheeks and her uneven breathing ruined any attempt at looking annoyed. "Yeah, I’m really good at waiting… for you to stop torturing me."

Azzi smirked, her lips pressing softly against the curve of Paige’s ribs. "Torture? This is affection, baby. You’re lucky I’m even sharing this performance with you."

Paige groaned again, her head falling back as Azzi’s lips traveled upward, brushing over the sensitive skin just below her chest. "Oh my God. You’re killing me, Azzi,” Paige said the words coming out in a slight whisper. 

"Am I?" Azzi hummed, her lips pausing briefly to press a deeper kiss right over Paige’s heart. She lingered there, letting the moment stretch before pulling back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she added, "You seem fine to me."

Paige exhaled shakily, her voice catching as she tried to respond. "Fine? I’m—" Her words faltered as Azzi’s lips found a particularly sensitive spot near her collarbone, sucking lightly just enough to leave another mark.

Azzi pulled back slightly, her voice soft but teasing as she asked, "What were you saying, babe?"

Paige clenched her jaw, her hands gripping the sheets as she muttered, "I hate you so much right now."

Azzi grinned, her lips brushing the side of Paige’s neck. "Hate me? That’s not what you’re going to be saying a few minutes from now."

Paige’s breathing grew more uneven, her voice dropping as she tried to hold onto any semblance of composure. "Azzi, you’re impossible."

Azzi laughed softly, her lips trailing up to Paige’s jawline. "Impossible? Or irresistible?"

Paige groaned again, her frustration mingling with the heat that Azzi’s kisses left behind. "Both. You’re both."

"Good answer," Azzi murmured before pressing her lips to the corner of Paige’s mouth, her voice soft and smug. "You’re doing great, by the way. Keeping up with this conversation and everything."

Paige laughed breathily, shaking her head. "I’m barely holding it together."

Azzi leaned back slightly, her gaze warm as she studied Paige’s flushed face. "You don’t have to hold it together, baby. I got you."

Her words made Paige’s heart skip a beat, her frustration melting into something softer as she looked up at Azzi. "Yeah," she said softly, her voice laced with affection. "You do."

Azzi smiled, leaning down to press another lingering kiss to Paige’s lips, this time with no teasing—just pure, unhurried affection.

Azzi tilted her head, capturing Paige’s lips in a slow, sloppy kiss that made Paige’s breath hitch. Each movement of Azzi’s lips and her tongue was deliberate, unhurried, as though she was savoring every second. Paige clung to the kiss at first, trying to keep her composure, but the gentle way Azzi teased her bottom lip had her resolve slipping away.

A soft, breathy sound escaped Paige’s mouth and melted into Azzi’s, making the brown haired girl smile against her lips. Azzi pulled back slightly, just enough to glance at Paige’s flushed face, her hand sliding down to trace lazy circles against Paige’s side. The featherlight touches sent shivers coursing through Paige, and she instinctively arched into the warmth of Azzi’s hand.

"You okay there, baby?" Azzi murmured, her voice low and laced with amusement. She punctuated her question with a kiss to Paige’s jaw, then another just below her ear.

Paige let out a shaky laugh, her hands gripping Azzi’s ass now. "Yeah, I’m good. Just… God, Azzi. That feels so good."

Azzi smirked, her lips brushing over the sensitive spot below Paige’s ear as she whispered, "Good. That’s exactly what I was going for."

Paige let out a soft moan, her body leaning into Azzi’s touch as her fingers brushed over the skin just above her hip. "You’re… really good at this. Too good, honestly," Paige said, her voice uneven as she tried to catch her breath.

Azzi chuckled softly, her kisses trailing down to the curve of Paige’s neck. "I like hearing you say that. Keep talking, babe."

Paige exhaled sharply, her words tumbling out between breathless sighs. "I don’t think I can focus enough to—" She broke off as Azzi’s lips lingered a little longer against her neck, sending a fresh wave of heat through her.

"Sure you can," Azzi teased, her hand dipping lower to rest on Paige’s waist, her fingers tracing faint patterns along her skin. "Just tell me how you’re feeling right now."

Paige bit her lip, her voice coming out softer now. "I feel… amazing. Like I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep doing that and you haven’t even done anything yet."

Azzi smiled against Paige’s skin, peppering more kisses along her jawline as her hand pressed more firmly against her waist. "You’re so cute when you’re all flustered, you know that?"

Paige groaned lightly, her head tilting back against the pillow as she muttered, "I’m not flustered."

Azzi laughed softly, moving her lips up to meet Paige’s again. The kiss was slow and consuming, drawing another sound from Paige that made Azzi’s heart skip. She pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against Paige’s, her voice a whisper. "You can keep pretending, but I know you, baby."

Paige opened her mouth to fire back with something sarcastic, her signature smirk already forming, but the words never left her lips. Azzi’s hand shifted into Paige’s boxers with expert precision, her movements slow yet deliberate as she put them exactly where Paige wanted. Any witty retort Paige had planned dissolved into a breathy, unrestrained moan.

"Fuck, Azzi," Paige blurted, her voice trembling as her head fell back against the pillow. "That feels—" She cut herself off with another shaky exhale, her hands clutching at Azzi’s sides for stability.

Azzi’s smile widened as she watched Paige’s tough exterior crumble. "What was that?" she teased, her voice impossibly gentle, her lips brushing against Paige’s jaw.

Paige’s head tipped further back as a string of breathless words tumbled out. "It’s—you’re—" she stammered, her hands gripping Azzi’s sides like they were the only things keeping her grounded. "Azzi, I swear to God—that feels so good."

"Yeah?" Azzi murmured, her voice low and intimate as her lips trailed along Paige’s neck sucking on the spots she knew her girlfriend loved. "Doesn’t sound like average to me."

Paige groaned, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s skin. "I didn’t mean it," she admitted, her voice breaking into a soft whimper as Azzi shifted again, her movements with her fingers achingly precise. "You’re so good—too good. God, Azzi, don’t stop."

Azzi chuckled against her skin, her lips grazing the sensitive spot beneath Paige’s ear. "I wasn’t planning to," she murmured, her tone smug but full of affection. "I love hearing you like this."

Paige let out a shaky laugh, though it was quickly overtaken by another sharp inhale. "You just love driving me crazy," she accused, her voice trembling.

"Maybe," Azzi replied with a grin, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses down to Paige’s collarbone. "But I think you like it."

"I do," Paige confessed without hesitation, her voice raw and honest as her nails dug lightly into Azzi’s sides. "You make me feel so… Azzi, I—"

"Shh," Azzi soothed, her lips brushing over Paige’s sternum now, her free hand sliding to cradle Paige’s waist. "I know, baby. I know."

Paige’s breath hitched again as Azzi continued her steady, unrelenting rhythm, her lips and hands moving in perfect harmony. "Azzi, please," Paige murmured, her voice trembling with both desperation and adoration.

Azzi looked up at her with a soft smile, her brown eyes gleaming. "Please, what?" she asked, her tone playful but her actions anything but, her lips pressing to Paige’s skin with deliberate slowness.

Paige’s jaw clenched as she tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but another sound escaped her, this one low and unrestrained. "Please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion as her hands slid up to frame Azzi’s face.

Azzi’s breath hitched at Paige’s words, her own resolve faltering as she moved her hands faster, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. "I love you," Azzi murmured, her voice low but filled with conviction, the words carrying a weight that only deepened the intensity between them.

Paige’s reaction was immediate. Her body arched into Azzi’s touch, and the sound she made was raw and uninhibited, echoing through the room in a way that made Azzi’s heart race. "Azzi," Paige gasped, her voice trembling with a mixture of need and emotion. "I—I love you too."

Azzi smiled, her own heart swelling as she pressed a series of lingering kisses to Paige’s jaw and neck. Her hands continued their work, her movements more deliberate, more assured, as she drew out another string of sounds from Paige that were louder, more unrestrained than anything she’d made all night.

"You’re so perfect," Azzi whispered against her skin, her words punctuated by soft, open-mouthed kisses trailing down Paige’s collarbone. "You don’t even know how much I love hearing you like this. Knowing I’m the only one that’s ever made you feel like this."

Paige’s hands tightened in Azzi’s hair, her fingers threading through the curly strands as her voice cracked again. "You—Azzi, you’re—God, you’re everything," she choked out, her voice breaking with every syllable.

Azzi’s lips quirked into a smile as she glanced up at Paige, her brown eyes dark with affection and desire. "And you’re mine," she murmured, her tone low and possessive, sending a shiver down Paige’s spine.

"Yes," Paige whispered, her voice barely audible as her body trembled beneath Azzi’s touch. "Only yours. Always yours."

Azzi kissed her again, slow and deep, swallowing every sound Paige made as her movements grew more purposeful. Paige clung to her, her words dissolving into soft gasps and pleas that spilled from her lips like a mantra.

After a particularly perfect curl of Azzi’s fingers Paige’s head tipped back against the pillow, her eyes fluttering shut as she gave herself over to the moment entirely. Her voice filled the room with cries of Azzi’s name, punctuated by gasps and broken declarations of love. 

Azzi couldn’t help but smile against her skin, her own heart pounding as she leaned up to kiss Paige’s lips again. "I got you, baby," she murmured, her words melting into the kiss as she helped Paige come down from the edge, her focus solely on the woman in her arms. 

Azzi shifts, sitting up and straddling Paige now. Her movements were slow and deliberate to tease Paige, as she brought her wet fingers to her lips, making a show of sucking them. Her gaze never left Paige’s as she let her tongue glide along her fingers, savoring the moment. 

Paige, still breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched the erratic beat of her heart, could only watch in a daze. Her blue eyes were locked on Azzi, completely entranced by the display. She swallowed hard, her voice hoarse as she tried to regain some semblance of control.

“Come here,” Paige murmured, her hands finding Azzi’s hips as she started to sit up, intending to flip their positions.

But before she could take charge, Azzi placed a firm hand on her chest, gently pushing her back down onto the bed.

“No, not tonight,” Azzi said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She leaned down, her lips ghosting over Paige’s as she continued. “You hurt yourself, remember? Let me just take care of you for once.”

Paige groaned in protest, her hands moving to rest on Azzi’s thighs, but the weight of Azzi’s words, combined with the tenderness in her gaze, kept her pinned. “Azzi…” Paige started, her voice soft but tinged with frustration.

Azzi silenced her with a kiss, slow and deep, pouring every ounce of affection into it until Paige’s tension melted away. When she pulled back, her smile was back, teasing and full of mischief. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

Paige huffed, her pout almost endearing as she let her head fall back against the pillow. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice laced with reluctant acceptance. “But don’t think this means I’m weak.”

Azzi chuckled, tracing her fingers lightly over Paige’s collarbone. “Oh, trust me, baby. I know exactly how strong you are.” She leaned down, brushing her lips against Paige’s ear as she whispered, “Now just relax and let me take care of you tonight.”

The words sent a shiver through Paige, her protest fading as she surrendered to Azzi’s gentle dominance. Her hands stayed on Azzi’s thighs, grounding herself in the moment as her girlfriend took her time, showering her with care and affection, making it clear just how much Paige meant to her.

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

No specific chapter tags

Read below or on ao3. You can also start from the beginning here.

Day 12: 2031

“What are you doing?”

“Shh!” Tommy waved his hand dramatically as he took a very slow, very precise step. “You're going to wake her up, Evan.”

“She's been out like a light for an hour,” Buck reminded him with a smile, “and I've got music playing in her room. So, what are you doing?”

Tommy lifted a foot, showing Buck the bottom of a black, rubber boot. “A little water and flour,” he explained. “I'm making Santa's footprints.”

Buck crossed his arms, leaning against the living room entryway. “It's sixty degrees outside. Where is this snow coming from?”

Tommy sighed. “It's magic."

“You know that's gonna be a nightmare to clean up tomorrow once it dries.”

“It'll be fine.”

“I'll remind you of that when you're scrubbing.”

“I need more,” Tommy said, ignoring Buck's comments as he stood still as a statue in the middle of the living room. “I have a spray bottle in the kitchen, and a plate with flour on it. Bring it to me, please?”

Buck shook his head, but went and got what Tommy needed. “Please tell me you're not stepping your feet into our good dishes,” he whined on his way back, setting the plate on the ground.

“They're new boots. We'll throw it in the dishwasher. Stay down there, spray my shoes.”

“Is this some new type of fetish for you? I know we're not supposed to judge, but...”

“Evan.”

“Okay, okay, I'm spraying.”

After each foot was sprayed and floured again, Tommy resumed his walk until he reached the front door.

“Seems wrong to not have Santa going up a chimney,” Buck said as Tommy carefully took off his boots.

“We don't have a chimney.”

“I could get a photo of Chimney and tape it to the door.”

“I know you're joking,” Tommy said, stepping closer to Buck, “but if you do that I might start committing violent crimes.”

Buck reached out and felt over Tommy's shirt. “You'd look hot in orange,” he decided as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Wait.” Tommy stopped him right before their lips met. He looked down between them, pointing at Buck's foot. “You're dangerously close to stepping on Santa's footprint.”

The moment ruined, Buck patted Tommy's chest. “I'm gonna bring out her presents.”

“I'm going to put these boots in three garbage bags, wash them when she goes to Maddie's on Friday, and give them to George at work on Saturday.”

“Why are you giving George your boots?”

“What do I need giant, black, rubber boots for?”

“Well, why does George need giant, black, rubber boots?”

“Are we really doing this right now, Evan?”

Buck rolled his eyes, raising his hands in surrender. “Getting the presents now.”

“Watch out for the footprints!” Tommy whisper-yelled as Buck headed down the hall.

Buck's only response was a low groan.

*****

The third time Tommy checked the time it was 4:45. He turned from one side to the other, wrapping his arm around Buck's waist.

“You're supposed to be sleeping,” Buck grumbled.

“Sorry.” Tommy pressed a kiss between Buck's shoulder blades. “I'm excited.”

“Really? Couldn't tell.”

Buck stretched out his legs, then turned over to face Tommy. “You know she's gonna be going nonstop once she wakes up. This is your last chance for rest.”

“She's been wanting that bike for months, Evan. And she already knows how to ride without training wheels. Can you believe that?”

“I can.” Buck brought a hand to Tommy's face, gently stroking his cheek. “You taught her well.”

“You ate the cookies, right?” Tommy asked, and Buck couldn't help but grin at him. He looked like such a child, wide eyed and ready to take on the day.

“I ate the cookies.”

“And the milk?”

“I drank the milk.”

“You think the note was okay?” Tommy asked. “It wasn't too wordy, was it?”

“Tommy,” Buck inched forward, pressing his lips against Tommy's. “Her Christmas will be perfect. You've made sure of that.”

“We've made sure of that,” Tommy corrected, giving him another kiss.

Buck ran his hand down Tommy's arm until he intertwined their hands, squeezing tight. “You okay?” he asked. “I know you're excited, but I- I also know Christmas has a lot of not-so-great memories for you.”

That was an understatement if there ever was one. Christmas of 2025 was one of the best for Tommy. Spent with Evan, his family, and the rest of the 118, the entire day was something out of a storybook. It was overwhelming and, once they got home, Tommy found himself sobbing in the bathroom. When Buck found him, Tommy ended up spilling his guts on every past Christmas.

By the time they were done, Buck promised that if he never wanted to celebrate the holiday again, he wouldn't have to.

But Tommy did. It's all he ever wanted, and he had it now, and it was good and terrifying and a lot to wrap his head around.

Then, they got their daughter, and Christmas had been taken up a notch every year since then. Buck always figured he'd be the one to dive head first into holidays, but Tommy quickly took the reigns, and Buck loved every second of it.

“I'm okay,” Tommy assured him.

“You'll come to me later if you get not okay?”

Tommy nodded. “Promise,” he said, wrapping his and Buck's pinkies together.

Buck scooted in as close as he could, closing his eyes as he entangled their bodies.

Just as Tommy thought he might be able to fall back to sleep, he heard the familiar patter of little feet heading toward their door.

“Get ready,” Buck mumbled against his chest.

The door flung open. “Daddy! Papa! Christmas!” She came running to the bed, jumping right on top of her dads.

“Whoa!” Tommy exclaimed, the both of them scooting back to give her space between them. “It's Christmas?!” he questioned.

“Mhm!”

“Are you sure about that?” Buck asked, cocking his eyebrow.

“I'm sure! Presents, please!” She grabbed both of their hands and began tugging. “Please, please, please!”

*****

Tommy got tears in his eyes as he watched his babygirl squeal when she saw Santa's footprints. He became even more misty when Buck helped her read the letter Santa left her. By the time she was tearing open her presents and screaming at the sight of her new bike, Buck had to put a hand on his back and gently rub up and down, soothing him so he wouldn't break down into full sobs right in front of their daughter.

He never tried to hide his emotions from her, but he also knew she wouldn't really understand her dad hyperventilating with happiness because he loved her so much.

“Can I go ride it?!” she asked, already snapping her helmet on her head.

“The sun's not even up yet,” Buck joked, but he knew he wouldn't win this fight. Tommy was already standing, quickly throwing the wrapping paper into a giant trash bag so they could go.

“Please, Daddy!” she begged, her bottom lip poking out.

He laughed. “I bet Papa is willing to take the first bike shift while I get breakfast ready, aren't you?” he asked, looking up at Tommy with a grin.

“Oh, absolutely!” he answered. “Go put on your shoes and grab a jacket, then we'll go.”

As she ran out of the room, Buck stood, wrapping his arms around Tommy. “Breakfast will take about an hour,” he said as Tommy pressed a kiss to his temple. “That enough time?”

Tommy rested his hands at Buck's lower back. “Yup. I'll take her back out after.”

Buck leaned back enough to look into Tommy's eyes. “You still good?”

Tommy nodded. “I'm great, Evan.”

*****

“Alright." Tommy clapped his hands together after making the final adjustments on her helmet. “You got this?”

“I got this!” she yelled, smiling brightly.

She got ready to take off, but stopped suddenly, leaning over and squeezing her arms around Tommy's waist the best she could.

“Oh!” he breathed out in surprise. He squatted down so he could give her a better hug. “What's this for?” he asked.

“For being the bestest papa ever and ever!”

She gave him a smack of a kiss on the cheek and let go, pushing herself forward and taking off on the bike.

Tommy wiped the tears from his face and started to jog behind her, his heart feeling more full than he ever thought possible.

One day, this would all be a distant memory to her. She may only remember bits and pieces, but she would hold in her heart the way her parents made Christmas as perfect as possible.

And whether she chooses to have a family of her own, or spend the holiday with friends that become family, she will pass the traditions on and Christmas will continue to hold a special place in her heart. Filled with good memories of endless laughter and unconditional love.

Juniper Buckley-Kinard was five years old when her Papa unwittingly taught her that sometimes good things last forever.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (8 - The Other Side)

Chapter Summary: After a drone attempts to eliminate her in her own home, Wanda emerges from the Hex to give Hayward's team their only warning. You, on the other hand, is left to figure things out on your own. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3.2k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: I know what we've established in the previous chapters, so hold onto your seats. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

They reach the Command Center just in time to see Hayward’s plan laid bare: eliminate Wanda Maximoff. It’s not surprising—they’d suspected as much after days camped outside the anomaly—but now it’s undeniable. Hayward wasn’t stalling or hesitating; he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The operation is set to launch in sixty seconds. Too little time to stop it, even with a former Avenger in the room. Clint doesn’t believe for a second that Hayward’s plan will succeed—Wanda isn’t just powerful, she’s impossibly powerful—but he knows letting this play out unchecked will only make things worse. If they don’t intervene, the attack will escalate, pushing Wanda further into anger and fear, and the walls of her Hex will only grow stronger.

“What the hell is this?” Monica demands, pushing past agents to get closer.

On the screens, live drone footage hovers ominously above Wanda's house within the Hex.

Hayward barely glances at her. “We're taking a proactive approach.”

Clint shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “He’s about to poke a bear with a stick, and we’re all gonna feel it.”

“Hayward!” Monica yells, catching the attention of everyone in the room, but Hayward pays her no heed.

Darcy, meanwhile, frantically taps her tablet then sighs in frustration. “I can’t override the launch. He’s locked everyone out.”

Jimmy heads toward the console center, but suddenly two agents step in front of him, hands resting on their holstered guns.

“Maybe we can warn Wanda?” Darcy surmises.

“There’s no time,” Clint says grimly. 

On the monitors, they see Wanda stepping out of her home, carrying a bag of garbage to the curb. The drone's camera zooms in, locking its target.  You follow her outside, noticing the drone immediately. 

“Wanda?” you murmur, looking up at the night sky where the drone's signal lights blink like distant stars. “What is that?”

“Y/N, get back inside,” Wanda says in that low, dangerous tone—familiar somehow, even though you can't recall ever hearing it before. Instinctively, you feel the urge to protect her, even though between the two of you, you're the one more likely to get hurt in situations like this.

Outside, they watch in shock as you step in front of your wife, despite her urging you to flee back inside the house. Panic surges through Monica in particular, realizing the potential casualties might not be just one, but two. And who knows how powerful the missile inside that drone is? There are kids sleeping soundly in your home, for God's sake!

“She's not a threat! You're making a huge mistake—”

“Take the shot,” Hayward commands the drone control team.

“Hayward, please!” Monica implores, her plea causing the operator's hand to waver, hesitating for just a fraction of a second. “Look, she's not alone! You're putting civilians at risk—”

That hesitation shreds the last of Hayward's patience. “Take the shot now!” he bellows.

“No!” Monica shouts, lunging forward, but agents hold her back.

Clint also rushes forward, but more agents block his path.

On the screens, a blinding flash of light erupts, then everything turns to static. Around the room, faces turn white as everyone exchanges uneasy looks, silently wondering if they've just caused a catastrophe. The Command Center is dead silent, charged with a nameless fear that grips everyone like a vise.

Then, an agent strides in, panic etched across his face. “Sir, we've got a breach.”

Clint exchanges a look with Monica. “She's coming,” he says quietly.

—

It all happened too fast.

One moment, you’re standing beside Wanda, braced for whatever threat the drone overhead might bring. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changes.

You’re alone, standing in front of your house.

“Wanda!” you cry out. Panic clenches your chest like a vice as your eyes dart wildly across the empty street. She has to be around here somewhere. She has to be safe.

You race back inside the house, but you’re careful not to make too much noise this time and wake up the twins upstairs. The house is still. Dinner is still spread across the counter, the kitchen light still glowing, but there’s no trace of your wife.

Rushing back outside, you scan the street, looking for any sign of movement. A few houses down, you spot Agnes in her front yard and—weirdly enough—watering her plants like it’s any other night.

You jog over. “Agnes, have you seen Wanda?”

She looks up, startled, then smiles. “Oh, hey! Haven’t seen her. Everything alright?”

“I don’t know,” you say, trying to keep the trepidation out of your voice. “She was just here, and now she’s gone.”

Agnes cocks her head, her smile fixed in place, unfazed, like the world around her isn’t fraying at the edges. Like this—all of this—is perfectly normal. You thought you could handle it, that you’d made peace with the strangeness of everything, but right now, it’s making your skin crawl.

“I’m sure she’s fine, dear. You know Wanda—always off doing something,” Agnes says, light and casual, like she’s commenting on the weather.

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble, though the assurance does little to ease your mind as your eyes continue to frantically wander, hoping against hope that Wanda might suddenly step out from one of them, smiling like none of this ever happened.

But she doesn’t.

You start walking back toward the house. She’s fine. She’s fine. She’s not fine. The rhythm builds and builds inside you like boiling water, until the panic buzzing at the base of your skull becomes impossible to ignore.

At the driveway, you stop. For one long, stretched-out moment, you hesitate. Then instinct takes over.

Your hand digs into your pocket, fingers curling around the cold metal of your car keys. You’re already moving, already yanking open the car door before you’ve fully decided what you’re going to do.

Just as you’re about to climb in, Agnes appears, moving faster than you’ve ever seen her move before, her cardigan flapping around her like wings.

“Where are you going?” she demands, breathless.

“I'm going to look for my wife.”

Agnes frowns. “Look for her where?”

“I don't know,” you sigh, one hand braced on the car door, the other gripping the keys tight enough to leave imprints on your palm. “But I'll scour the ends of this town if I have to.”

—

At the southern boundary of Westview, Hayward's men are already assembled, a line of armed agents standing at attention with their weapons trained on the elusive barrier of the Hex. The alarms continue to blare. They don’t know what’s coming, but they’re all on the front lines, waiting to find out.

Clint hangs back, his expression grim as he waits for Wanda. He hadn’t expected the girl they’d practically adopted from Sokovia to still carry so much darkness—a side of her that rears its head through the cracks when she’s at her lowest. 

He can't stop questioning why you ever chose to let Wanda believe you’re dead.  But he figures that’s your burden to bear. His own regret is not being there for Wanda after Tony’s funeral. With Vision also gone, he feels he should have stayed closer.

Part of him can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed her somehow.

For Clint, it had been five long years of grieving for the family he thought he’d lost forever. Once he was reunited with them, all he wanted was to put his Avenger days behind him and catch up on lost time, which he did. But when he heard about Wanda's situation in New Jersey, he couldn't just stay away. Steve and Nat would’ve done the same.

The barrier sparks like a live wire as a shadow begins to materialize behind it. Moments later, everyone watches with bated breath as Wanda Maximoff steps through, dragging the drone behind her with one hand. She strides ominously forward, indifferent to the dozen infrared lasers trained on her body.

“Is this yours?” Wanda yells. Without waiting for an answer, she flings the drone, sending it crashing down toward Hayward's feet. It skids across the coarse grass, stopping just short of him.

“The missile was just a precaution,” Hayward says coolly. “You can hardly blame us, Wanda.”

“Oh, I think I can.”

Clint chooses this moment to reveal himself among the crowds. He’s not sure whether it will placate Wanda or anger her further, but he knows he has to try—not for their benefit, but for hers.

“Wanda,” he calls out gently. 

“Clint,” Wanda breathes out, taken aback. For a second, she looks stunned, as if the thought of someone from her old circle stepping in hadn't crossed her mind. They know her, understand her motives—or at least, they should. “So they sent you, too?”

“No one sent me,” he assures her, taking another careful step closer. “I came because I was worried about you.”

“Funny way of showing it,” she scoffs, nodding toward the agents with their weapons drawn.

Monica steps out from behind one of the vehicles, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Wanda."

Recognition dawns on Wanda’s face, her lips curling into a half-amused, half-impressed smile. After how forcefully she ejected Monica from Westview, she hadn't expected her to come back.

“You’re still here,” she mutters warily.

“Please, let’s just talk,” Monica urges. 

“Not interested.”

“We want to help you through this, Wanda,” Clint tries.

Wanda lets out a hollow laugh. “Help me? Like you helped me after everything was taken from me?” After the funeral, they all went their own way—back to work, back to their families. And Wanda had—

She had no one to go back to. 

“I’m sorry,” Clint murmurs, his eyes dropping to the ground. “I should've been there. I'm sorry.”

Wanda purses her lips. “Sorry doesn't bring them back.”

Monica walks up to Clint’s side. “I know what it's like to lose someone. To feel that emptiness.”

Wanda’s voice becomes a cold whisper. “You don't know anything about me.”

Clint stops for a moment, the implication of her words just occuring to him. “Wait. Them?”

Wanda doesn’t answer him. With a simple wave of her hand, Hayward’s snipers, who had their sights on her, suddenly swivel their rifles toward him instead. He instantly throws up his hands in surrender.

“This will be your only warning,” Wanda says coldly. “Stay out of my home.”

“Wait!” Clint tries again, but it’s too late. Wanda has already turned away. 

Hayward's arms stay in the air, a stricken look on his face as he orders his men to stand down, but not a single one of them listens. They only manage to snap out of it the moment the Hex re-absorbs Wanda Maximoff.

—

You do exactly what you told Agnes you'd do and drive toward the edge of town.

As you go, things start getting…weirder. The farther you get from the center, the stranger things become. People are outside their homes, but they're not moving. A woman hangs laundry on a line, her arms frozen mid-air. A kid stands with a basketball, paused in the act of dribbling. They are like living statues.

“What the hell is going on?” you mutter under your breath, your knuckles white against the steering wheel. You ease the car to a stop by the curb, with only the sound of the running engine the other sign of life aside from you. 

Cautiously, you approach the frozen figures for closer inspection. They're not just still—they're vacant. Their eyes stare straight ahead, unfocused and glassy, like mannequins propped up in a storefront window. You wave a hand in front of a man's face, but he doesn't blink.

Stumbling back, fear rises in you. “Wanda!”

But there's no answer. There’s only your own labored breathing. No birds soar overhead, no butterflies flit through the gardens—none of the life you’re accustomed to near your home. There’s not even a whisper of wind. It feels like the air’s been sucked out of the place.

You get back in the car and keep driving. Houses thin out, streets get emptier. Soon, you're at the town's edge. That's when you see it—a faint shimmer in the void ahead. It ripples subtly, like a mirage or heat haze.

Frowning, you park and walk toward the strange phenomenon. As you go nearer, you see sparks dancing through a grid-like pattern. Reaching out cautiously, you touch it, and a jolt runs up your arm. It’s not painful, but it’s definitely not welcoming either. 

“What the hell is this?” you whisper.

Without fully thinking it through, you decide to push forward. There's resistance at first, like walking through thick mud, but suddenly you break through.

On the other side, the world is completely different.

—

Wanda returns home, closing the door softly behind her and letting out a quiet sigh.

She sinks onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. The sheer force of the urge she'd felt—to just wipe them all out, to eliminate any threat to her family—left her shaken. It wasn't like her, or at least she didn't think it was. She knows if that drone had reached you before she intervened, she would have pulled the trigger. The darkness that surged up inside her scared her. Is this who she's becoming? Perhaps being a bit hardened is necessary if it means keeping you and the boys safe. After all, being innocuous only ever stripped away everything she held dear.

She tries to shake it off, taking a deep breath as she makes her way upstairs. First things first: check on the twins. Pushing open their bedroom door, she finds them fast asleep, the steady rise and fall of their chests bringing her a small measure of peace. They're safe.

But as she moves through the house, calling your name, she realizes you're nowhere to be found. Trying to keep her cool, she steps outside, only to find the neighborhood just as empty and silent.

Except for Agnes, who's out watering her garden at a very unusual hour.

“Agnes?” Wanda calls out as she walks over.

Agnes looks up, a friendly smile on her face. “Hey, neighbor! Can’t sleep either?”

“Have you seen Y/N?”

Agnes hums, thinking it over. “Actually, I did see her earlier.”

“You did? When? Where did she go?”

“Just a little while ago,” Agnes replies casually. “She mentioned she was heading to the edge of town to look for you.”

Color drains from Wanda's face. “She went to the boundary?”

“Yes, she seemed quite determined—”

Without waiting for Agnes to finish, Wanda turns abruptly. She rises off the ground, levitating effortlessly. She doesn't care if Agnes sees her powers or if anyone else is watching. The only thing that matters now is getting to you before it’s too late.

“Please be okay,” she murmurs under her breath, repeating it like a mantra, synced to the frantic beating of her heart.

—

Dozens of people in black uniforms, faces smudged with exhaustion, stand scattered across a patchwork base of canvas tents, armored vehicles, and machinery that doesn’t belong in a small town like Westview. They freeze when they see you—every single one of them—like you’re a ghost that wandered in from the wrong side of reality.

“T-There’s another breach!” someone yells.

You just stand there, blinking at the sea of wide eyes staring back at you. “Who are you people? What’s going on?”

No one answers. They just watch.

And then it starts.

A sensation creeps over your skin, wrong in a way that defies language. Static under your fingernails, pins and needles crawling up your veins.  You glance down. Your hands are flaking away, little particles peeling off like you’re made of burnt paper.

“What the—?”

Your vision tilts. The sky feels too far away, the ground too close. The disintegration spreads—up your arms, across your chest. You hear someone shouting in the distance.

“Someone help her! She’s clearly dying!”

“Hold your ground!”

Then, through the noise, you hear it. “Y/N!” your name being called by the same voice you caught in Wanda’s broken radio.

You reach out blindly, trying to grab onto something as you continue to come apart, but your knees buckle, and you hit the ground. 

It feels like you're dying.

But why? Why is this happening?

Seconds later, you can't even hold yourself up anymore. You collapse onto all fours, watching helplessly as pieces of you start to drift away like dust in the wind.

“Wanda…” you whisper, and then everything around you goes dark.

—

Wanda senses it first—a noticeable diminishment of your presence where it used to be strong, as if a part of her is fading away with it. A sense of dread fills her as she looks toward the edge of town. From her vantage point above Westview, she spots your car abandoned near the boundary with its headlights still on.

“No,” she breathes, her eyes turning red as she tries to search for you past the invisible barrier.

Desperation propels her forward as she flies toward you, the wind whipping through her hair. But no matter how fast she moves, she feels you slipping away, bit by bit. 

That’s when she spots you, lying on the ground, crumbling the way she did five years ago.

“No, no, no,” Wanda cries, pushing herself to go faster. But deep down, she knows she won't reach you in time.

She stops mid-air. There's only one thing left to do. Closing her eyes, she gathers every ounce of her power. Scarlet energy crackles around her hands, growing brighter and more powerful. With a fierce cry, she releases it, sending a surge of magic outward.

The Hex trembles and then starts to expand, pushing outward. Houses, trees, streets—all get swallowed as the boundary moves to encompass more area. The strain is immense, but she doesn't care. All that matters is pulling you back, keeping you within the safe confines of the world she's created. Tears blur her vision, but she keeps her focus, watching as the red glow envelops your car, hoping it's not too late.

“Come back to me,” Wanda murmurs, willing the Hex to bring you home.

—

“Where are you going?” Monica calls after Clint, chasing him down as he strides toward his truck. Behind them, the team is scattered, hollow-eyed and dazed—they just watched you stumble out of the Hex, your body coming apart like sand slipping through an hourglass. Morale isn’t just low; it’s subterranean. Hayward's back at the S.W.O.R.D. base, probably scheming his next move, but right now, everyone’s flailing in the dark.

Clint digs through his pockets for his keys. “There’s something I need to check out,” he mutters.

“Like what? Does it have to do with… whatever that was?” Monica asks, her voice strained. “With Darcy gone into the Hex, Jimmy and I are—honestly, I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do.”

“I can’t explain yet. Not until I know for sure,” he says, avoiding her gaze. He's racked with a hit of guilt for leaving Monica in the lurch, especially when she and Jimmy are already scraping by without Darcy.

But he swears he’s leaving for a reason.

Monica nods, her face drawn. “Are you coming back?”

Clint exhales, long and slow. “I was hoping this would clear up fast. But it doesn’t look good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Be careful out there,” she says, her voice quieter now.

“You too. Stay sharp.”

Before Monica can head back to camp, Clint beeps his truck, pulling her attention back. She turns, looking over her shoulder and waits.

“Deep down, Wanda’s a good person, you know?” Clint says, unsure of his point but feeling compelled to speak up for Wanda.

Monica gives him a small, tired smile before walking away.

[witchofhimring]

Disloyalty (Chapter 1)

Book One Masterlist (Loyalty)

Synopsis: Time has gone back and everything as is it once was, except you. After spending your first life being the pawn of others you are ready to even the score.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, mentions of rape (not to the reader), morally grey reader

You sat there in the cold dark, mud clinging to your skin. Resting against the Weirwood you were only faintly aware of it digging into your skin. The only physical sensation of importance was a stinging pain in your wrists and heavy painful breaths. Images of Alys and her green eyes were still imbedded onto your eyes. Light emanating from wherever was scarce. Shrouded in darkness you were hard to spot. Faintly you were aware of music playing near by.

Where were you? The archaic energy pulsing out of the tree made you realized it was a Weirwood. That was the only thing you were certain of. Was this the afterlife? Had the Seven sent you here to pay for heresy? A sickening panic brought you to life. Suddenly you could sit no more. The idea you were stuck in hell frightened you, and like a child you staggered up in terror. A great pain erupted in your heart as the situation set in. Owen, your son, was dead. Your dear little boy whom you had failed to protect. A wail of pain was wrenched from you. His little face floated in your mind. He was surrounded by blood with blue lips. The questions that had haunted you chanted like a morbid chorus. Collapsing to the ground you shuttered. You were stuck in this hell, forever to be tormented by the death of your son.

"To Prince Aemond and Princess Ellyn!" Jerking up you looked to see it was not just you and the tree. The light was coming from windows above. With trembling legs you stumbled a few paces and looked up. Above loomed the Weirwood. Through the branches you realized this was a garden, enclosed by the castle. Stepping further back you realized this was not just some castle.

It was the Red Keep.

Tapestries hung from the windows with the Stag and Dragon intertwined. The music now registered in your head. On the upper floors people were running to and fro, laughter on their lips. The sent of a feast permeated your senses. You looked back at the Weirwood and its many face. Twisted face forcing the bark to mold into grotesque mockeries of faces. Silently you stared down at those other faces. Were you in hell after all? For why would the Seven have the Old Gods were they could reign over man in hell? Unless this was not hell at all. Maybe this was some strange dream, perhaps that was all death was. One long endless dream.

You walked forward to those faces. Once they may have frightened you. But you were dead so they could do no harm, right? Closer you drew and one cold, bloody hand touched a face. Flesh contacted flesh. Your eyes met hollow but very much alive ones. "Hello?" For the first time you spoke to them, not out of fear. "Have you seen Y/n?" Cerilla's hatefully familiar voice floated, pleasing as the stench of dragon dung. You faded into the shadows. Looking down for the first time you realized this dress was not one recently one. In fact, you had not worn it since Prince Aemond married Ellyn.

Cerilla and one of her friends came into the garden. A thrill of hatred passed through you. If only there was a knife you might kill her then and there. A pity your body was not quite one with your brain. Your body felt like it had just been violently ill and only now just recovered. "I do not think she is here." Said Cerilla's friend, a girl you only knew by sight. Her dress was blue with flowers. This girl was a Florent. The same as that evil bitch Jenna. Jenna Florent. She had sent you to your death and taken everything for herself. If the Sven Hells's existed you hoped hers was a deepest, darkest part where no light ventured. "I suppose not. Think she has blubbered off into the forest?" Both girls laughed and departed. What they did not know was that Y/n had heard. And you emerged from out of the shadows, covered in blood and a look of hatred upon your face.

Your heart beat painfully. This pain inside might as well kill you. For a moment you remained paralyzed with pain. Then you realized it was not just pain, but rage. A rage that threatened to overtake you. It acted as a balm for your physical weakness. Banishing any thoughts of exhaustion you strided forward. The Red Keep had many passages. The nearest one was just behind a statue of Queen Alysanne. For the first time in two years you stepped into the Red Keep and flood of warmth filled you. So overpowering that you froze, completely forgetting you purpose. You were back where it all began. In these halls lay many memories, both good and ill. You only moved when your mind warned you someone might come. You gave the Weirwood one last glance before disappearing.

It helped that you knew the Red Keep so well. Every time someone passed you hid with ease. Everyone was either dressed in their house colours or of Targaryen or Baratheon. Once you made it to the door everything was dark. Time had passed but you knew this place well. Going up the stairs you finally reached a familiar place, your room. It was just as you had left it two years ago. Your blue sheets lay as they always did. A green dress hung over a chair, just as it had two years ago. Anyway, had you not gotten ride of that dress? Silently the door shut as you examined the room. Everything was familiar. You opened the curtains so see the moon in all its splendor. The forest outside seemed to breath with life. A surge of such intensity came and you dwelt in it. Closing e/c eyes you took it all in, the cold air, pine and so many other scents lingering. The moonlight more powerful than any sun.

A knock broke the brief spell. You tried to speak but only a croak came out. The door opened and Elinor stepped in. Suddenly nothing else mattered. In silence you simply stood there. Over the past year you had thought of all the things you would say, but now nothing came to mind. Numbly you just looked at her, every thought scattered.

Elinor quickly grabbed you by the arms and regarded with horror your appearance. Covered in blood and dirt Elinor likely thought you had been attacked. "Y/n! Oh Gods I better-" Elinor made to call for a servant. But you seized her sleeve and shook your head. "Please do not." "But you are hurt. Look at you!" It did look pretty bad. "I went into the forest and slipped on a carcass." You were quick to lie. Elinor still checked over you, only relived when she realized there were no wounds. "Very well, lets clear this up. I am sorry for startling you I just thought...well never mind. I will call for a maid." You needed no worries. Elinor could yell for all you cared. She was here.

The dress was immediately taken from you. Likely it was unsalvageable. A large basin was brought in and Elinor sent the servant away. Warm water washed away everything. You were rubbing away a stubborn piece of dirt from your knee when something alarmed you. On your right wrist was a long thin line. Like someone had slit your wrist. You tentatively touched it and then realized the same mark was on your other wrist. Two long thin marks scared your wrists.

"I was worried about you, taking into the forest like that. But I do not want you to think I am chastising you. I know today has been very hard." She was right, it had been hard. Thought it was hard today for a different reason than it had two years ago. Right now your thoughts were a million miles from anything regarding Prince Aemond and Ellyn. Instead you attempted to make sense of everything around you. Whether this was a afterlife or not. Had the past two years been all some strange dream? The memories felt too real, the mind was a powerful thing. Everything around you was clear. You had always been lucid in those dreams that felt so real. But even then it felt different. This was not a dream and maybe not even the afterlife.

Elinor laid out a nightgown on your bed. Making sure she could not see your wrists you put it on any got into bed. "Goodnight my sweet girl." Elinor placed a loving kiss to your cheek. You did not want her to leave. Nevertheless you watched her blow out the candle and close the door

In the darkness you lay, tormented by your thoughts. Without Elinor they came howling back with a vengeance. Most of all the weight of your lost son. Tears rolled silently down your cheek. Why had he died while you lived? Every parents askes these questions when they lose a child. It is one without answer or meaning. A simple snuffing out of light. A dreamless death was preferable to this. A blank nothingness was better than whatever existence you were thrown into. You had missed Elinor terribly but it could not protect you from all this pain. His blue bloody lips haunted your very soul. He had died alone in agony and there was nothing you did. You just let it happen.

You did not sleep that night, the moon passing through a dark nighttime sky. You watched it and resented your son not being there. He should have seen so many more sunrises. You heard the sounds of young children bellow, likely being allowed this rare privileg because of the wedding. Owen should have had the opportunity ty to play. To feel the deep bond that one friend feels for another. His life had been so brief, a sudden spark snuffed out, and yet his presence was a burn to your heart. A mother should never have to feel this.

You shot up. The reality hit you like an avalanche of rocks. A sickening thought occurred. This may not be a dream or the afterlife. If neither were true then there was another option.

Some say there was a God who could turn back time....

"Helaena!" You threw off the covers and did not even bother to put a robe on. The urgency made you nauseous with fear. Bursting out the door you ignored the cry of a maid. You were practically flying down the hall. You had to make it down there it time! Approaching a flight of stairs you were nearly there.

A hand which possessed an alarming amount of stress seized your left arms. Slamming into the stone wall your skull seemed to rattle. "Where are you going, you little snake?" Someone had you pinned against the wall. When your sight cleared you realized who it was. Cerilla had you right against the wall. The very girl who had your son killed and mocked your pain. She was right in front of you. "Get off me!" You roared. Did she not understand there was no time! "I asked you where-" You were beyond angry. First she had Owen killed and now had come back to mock you more! "For fuck sake Cerilla get off me now!" You screaming caught attention and suddenly there was an audience. People roused from sleep had come out to see the commotion. "What is going on here?" Jaecerion walked through the crowd. Going weak at the knees you nearly collapsed. Even Jaecerion was alive. "Y/n was causing trouble and I-" "I was doing nothing but this wild little bitch attacked me!" There was a gasp from the onlookers but you did not care. You wriggled and finally Cerilla let go. You made to run but Jaecerion stuck out a hand. "Jaecerion please." He saw the desperation in your eyes and looked to Cerilla. "Cerilla, what was Lady Y/n doing?" Cerilla's eyes were unusually wide and her hands were clenched. "She was running in an unruly manor and I was concerned she would run into someone." Cerilla tried to justify. "So was Y/n trying to cause trouble?" You just wanted to leave. "Jaecerion I do not have time." To everyone's astonishment you ran right past Jaecerion's arm and disappeared.

You were almost there, just a flight of stairs left. One level and you would be there.

Then a blood curdling scream rendered apart the calm night.

You could not bring yourself to go to Helaena. Once you realized it was over you collapsed against the wall. You were too late. Footsteps were racing past you in a hurry. The familiar scent of blood added itself to the Red Keep. Once more Jaehaerys Targaryen's story would become part of this cursed places legend. He would once more joining the line up of deceased people, cut down before their time. And you could have stopped it. Instead you just lay there in bed and stared at the wall. Helaena was now suffering as you are because of oversight. You were angry with yourself, and then angry at those who had cut him down. Once more the Blacks had struck and killed. Your swelling hatred found its fixture on Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. Last time they had both died, but their son sat on the throne. They still won despite everything. Despite all the blood, they had won.

Rooted to the spot you stayed in the stairwell. Jaecerion was still with you. Everyone else had left but him. Beside you, Jaecerion had come and placed an arm around you. 'Y/n?' Your legs seemed unwilling to move. Realizing this Jaecerion picked you up in his strong arms. Your mind was a thousand miles away. Barely aware of what was going on around you. Things swam in front of you. Hands placed themselves on the cold face in a vain attempt to block everything out. A great tempest stormed inside feasting on rage and despair. Ripping at everything you were, everything you ever would be. Settling itself in your very soul these festering emptions would plant themselves. Roots would sink into every part of who you were, blooming in all its malignant nature.

Jaecerion set you down on the bed. Green sheets rustled under your weight. Suddenly you were very cold, and it was not from the open window. This felt like one of those wretched dreams you got in Harrenhal. Except there was no escape from this one. Trapped in the nightmare you spiraled into the darkness. Laying down in his bed felt like being buried alive. Nausea boiled in your belly causing physical pain to clench like a fist. Hands curled into tight fists as you imagined them covered in blood. Jaehaerys's blood sticking to your skin, crawling up to your elbows.

With a great lurch you bolted up and vomited right onto the floor. Hands were touching you and fear became overcoming. 'Let go! You dashed to the other side of the room in a grazed frenzy. Two figures stood by the bed and in your madness you thought them ghosts. Crouching down you clasped hands together in some sort of prayer. Every breath seemed magnified, sounding like a great gust of wind each time it passed through cold chapped lips.

'Y/n?' Elinor's voice seemed far off. But you looked up and realized Jaecerion and Elinor were both looking at you. No ghosts. Blinking, you were brought back to reality. Your hands were not bloody. But that smell of freshly spilt blood never left, at least for you. bringing your hands to your mouth you closed burning eyes. 'Y/n, lets get you back to bed.' Elinor gently helped you up. 'I will summon a maester.' Jaecerion said. And you were lead back to the bed where once more dark thoughts surrounded you like a rope around the condemned's neck.

The nightmares came back. For the first time since living in Harrenhal you could hear the voices of the beyond. Everything was dark and despite reaching out you could not make any bearing. Everything seemed to fall away, like you had jumped down a deep hole with no end. The lack of control made you want to rage with helplessness. Would being brought back truly bring you victory? Or was this simply a cruel joke by beings greater than yourself? And what was the point of all this? Was this punishment for your sins?

When you woke up gasping and in a cold sweat they thought it was from the shock of Jaehaerys's bloody death. This was partially correct. The scent of his blood and headless stump sickened you. Having lost your own son you could only feel more pity for Helaena. Now there was also the combined feeling of deep shame. You could have stopped his death. At least his chances may have been better. Just like last time the assassins' hacked off a little boys head. Dread settled in your belly. If this could happen then what else could? Of course there was the obvious answer. Jaehaerys had died because of your inaction, not divine providence. Either way, there was only regret and grief.

Outside you could hear guards. Aegon had the castle shut down in the wake of his sons death. Despite having no love, or even liking for Aegon, you felt immense pity. Helaena's descent into madness seemed natural in her case. You had not seen Aegon after the death of his son, but you heard that he tore apart his room. Viserys's model of Old Valyria had lain in pieces afterwards. Soon Kings Landing would be in mourning, the stench of hung rotting corpses would fill the air, mingling with those killed in Rhaenys's flight from Kings Landing. Kings Landing was filled with the stench of the dead.

All day you spent inside. It did not matter that there was noise coming from outside your door. Or that there was a draft blowing in from outside. You had sworn vengeance and yet here you were, paralyzed with fear and helplessness. Soon rage seeped in. There was no one preventing you from going on. Jenna was busy with other matters for now and you were not a prisoner. You as of now could not go out.

The next morning you forced yourself to get out of bed. Every cell of your body ached and your eyes throbbed painfully. Elinor had you take a cold bath which held a little. Dressed in a dark green and at the door you did not want to leave. Finally, cautiously, you stepped out. The guard watched you with observant eyes. Suddenly the hair on your skin stood on end. You did not like the way he looked at you. Who was he? In your last life you had hardly paid attention to him. That made you feel small, insignificant, and that made you angry. Very angry.

Like a ghost you wandered the halls. You thought of all the stories you had been told. Of dead princes and builders who ventured into the castles deepest bowels, never to be seen again. Perhaps you could fall into the darkness and become a mere legend. Like the small insignificant little girl you were. That night you wandered back to bed. But you did not fall asleep. Something in you, an ever vigilant part, commanded all your senses. 'Stay awake.' It told you. So that night, laying in your bed facing the door. You waited. The guards shadow lingered outside. For hours he did not move. Stained ears did not pick up another's movement. That was until another's footsteps caused you to freeze. They were lighter, silk slippers on the floor. And then the guard, the man meant to protect you, left. You could see his shadow through the bottom of your door. His footsteps echoed off the stope. In a leap of faith you got up and silently opened the door. there was no one there. You could have gone back inside. The warm safe bed was inviting. Instead you slipped outside. There was a statue near by that could provide a hiding place. Soon enough he came back, accompanied by another. The woman's face was covered. But you could tell it was not Cerilla. her mouth was small like a rosebuds. Moonlight was just enough that you could clearly see the lower half of her face. There was a small mole just above her upper lip. Analyzing, you noted her appearance. There was a slender neck and slightly cleft chin. This might very well be a friend of Cerilla's. Although they had tormented you it was hard to place these few features by memory. You tried to listen carefully to her voice. 'Has she done anything suspicious?' Rage spiked through you. Who did this girl think she was?! The guard replied that nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Little did they know you were listening. A bag of money was placed into his hand and the girl was off. Waiting, you watched like a silent predator. Nails dug into the stone, your teeth were bared like a panther waiting to pounce. And soon that anger turned to elation at the daydream of making them pay. Some evening of the score that was sweeter than any pastry from the Keeps kitchen. At some point you slunk back to bed when the guard had gone. Despite having hardly rested you were wide awake, heart singing with joy.

Waking up you felt strangely calm. Too exhausted to feel anything you lay there looking up at the wooden ceiling. Last night you had dreamed of Owen. It had been so peaceful, only it ended and the nightmare continued. This waking nightmare was worse than any other. Running through forests covered in blood was better. Anything was better than this half existence.

You could hear whispering by the door. Getting up you wondered if this was also your imagination. Or perhaps a spy. You opened it and heard someone dash away, green skirts disappeared down the corner. Hastily you peered down the hall. Someone was running away. Although you could not recall her face you realized it was one of Cerilla's friends. 'What the fuck?' Creeped out, you went back inside and locked the door, leaving the key inside. Why was Cerilla spy on you? Likely she would write back to Jenna, but about what? You doubted Jenna would care very much about you simply lying in bed.

Elinor came in a few moments later. 'Y/n, do you know where the guard is?' You shook your head, keeping the truth quiet. Likely Cerilla paid him something. If the man who looked out for your safety was in her pocket, who else was? Only Elinor were you certain of. Feeling suddenly angry you quickly ate breakfast, even though a concerned Elinor advised otherwise. Once that was finished you were dressed. Having no desire to interact with anyone, and having a sudden burst of energy, you told Elinor to leave. She had been concerned but you assured her all that was needed was quiet. After waiting several minutes to be sure she was gone you got up and looked outside. The guard had not returned yet. Slipping out you walked down the halls. Few were awake this early on. The morning was young and the sun not yet in full splendor. Shadows crawled alone stones set down by men slain. The red made you think of blood and ghosts dancing along the halls. Flittering about they haunted the place lamenting their untimely, unjust deaths.

Your feet took you to the lower levels. Sun and light was no longer available the deeper you went. Torches let of small flickers of light providing a small guide. Wandering, you allowed the misery of this place to engulf you in all its terrible power. Jaehaerys's ghost seemed to be right next to you, with blood trickling to the floor. For some time you were amerced in the catacombs. When you heard voices above and realized they were that of the living you decided to leave. It would not do you any good to be caught half dressed in public. You did not like to be laughed at. To avoid company you crossed through the courtyard. The Weirwood tree called to you in its ancient voice. For a moment you looked at it before disappearing inside.

You had assumed that Cerilla could make nothing of you laying in bed. That had been a miscalculation on your part. As the day went by you heard the full story that Cerilla concocted you felt the desire to throttle her. Apparently you were so aggrieved at Aemond's marriage that you collapsed and vomited. People snickered in the hall. Poor Jaehaerys had died and they cared more about some malicious rumor. Fingernails imbedded themselves into the skin of your cold palms when Erald Swann, Cerilla's cousin, made a ballad about a whore who's lover left her for another. Fingers tightening around the knife you wondered what it would be like to plunge it into his heart.

You had hated them back then too. But now ideas emerged from the darkness, dark ones. Fantasies in which you slaughtered every one of them. At night you would lull yourself to sleep with the knowledge that one day you would get even.

The ladies gathered in the Sept to pray. Last time, a lifetime ago, you had gone to this same place for comfort. Those cold stone unfeeling gazes looked at you. Now merely a shadow in your life, you felt nothing except apathy. Some part of you felt loss. Something was dead inside of you, having been slowly strangled to death. The lights flickered and you wished to dash them across the floor sending this place up in a great blaze. Afterwards, you slipped away.

Alone you walked in those old halls. Everything else, life, happiness, companionship, felt so far away. Heart beating you wondered if it might break. Unwillingly tears rolled down your cheeks. It seemed you were not yet past such emotions.

'You know I did see the Lady Y/n today. She looked quite aggrieved.' Having not taken care to remain aware of your surroundings, you realized this was near Ellyn's chambers. Through an open door you could hear Cerilla's putrid voice wafting out. 'Well the little slut better know her place.' Ellyn. Frozen, you suddenly were pulled back to the present. Your face turned ever so slightly, like a predator listening. Stalking slightly closer you strained to hear what they would say next. 'I do apologize that she is in your service, princess.' Of course Cerilla was sucking up to her. Her white neck looked so thin, so delicate.

You turned on your heel and walked away. Nearly running you raced back to the bedroom. Voices echoed, people stared. You heard someone lady with dark hair made a snide remark in your direction. Everything before you became hazy and the voices in your heard increased with fervor. Every word was magnified, scalding you, washing of you leaving behind wounds. You imagined blood running down their faces. Nails slashing at their skin. Howls of agony.

With a gasp you nearly collided with someone. People snickered and you soon saw why. Aemond Targaryen was before you. Recoiling as if presented with a ghost you wished the ground would swallow you right up. His face was that of a stranger. The boy who swam in the alcove was long gone for you. You tried to familiarize his face to memory. But everything about Aemond was so foreign he might as well be a stranger, because he was one. And now looking at him you realized something. Your love for him was gone. It had been something you knew for a while. Yet now it became fully clear, acknowledged.

'Lady Y/n. You best be careful.' The men behind you were laughing. Every one of their faces branded themselves in your mind. You were trembling, not out of fear, but rage. They laughed and laughed and you were the greatest fool. Your pride ripped at you with all its powerful fury. Aemond looked down at you as one might a mere passer by. Clearly the past meant nothing to him. He might throw it away, but it would sustain you.

Without so much as a word you speed off into the shadows. The Red Keeps cold bearing down on you. 'Then I shall keep her in my power.' Power? What did Ellyn know about power, what did any of them know!? You had gone through time, spilt your own blood! Looking at your hands, you realized, through the haze of pain, that another type of power was open. Alys had mentioned your mothers family. Reed blood that gave you blood of the First Men. If you could harness whatever power this was.......

'Change coats.'

'Running of blood!'

Just like last time you were woken by these words. Startled awake you immediately got out of bed. Pulling out a piece of parchment you wrote the words now. Whatever they meant you knew were significant. 'Running of blood' you could understand. But what was 'change coats' about. Surely it could not mean you would change sides. No, that was impossible. The very idea was ludicrous.

This morning you were filled with a strange energy. After months of being a prisoner it was liberating to be so free. Throwing open the window you could feel the breeze and summer air. Even the stink of King's Landing was welcome.

You were resolved to fight. Armed with knowledge of future events and the power of gods you would bring all your enemies down. Now you were certain of your fate. To perish or fight. Once you had blindly stumbled into the former. Your wrists throbbed painfully. Looking down you traced fingers over the scars. How did Alys do it? What power had allowed her to change time itself? She spoke of The Old Gods and a wheel. Having grown up in the Faith of the Seven you knew little about the north. It had been considered heresy and the maesters and septas tormented you with the Seven Hells. Now the world had been turn upside down. If this cold northern power would help you then so be it. Who cared what the future would be, so long as vengeance was to be had.

There was the obvious problem of where to begin. You could hardly go up and ask someone how to do magic. Only Alys could truly help you, but she was at Harrenhal. Would it be prudent to summon her? Given your station Alys would not be able to deny you. Or she might flee like last time. And who was to say Alys would even help you. Even if you were to bring her, what then? People would talk and there was no where to keep her. Despite being a lady this was not your castle. keeping Alys a secret would be hard. At Harrenhal Alys was infamous, bringing her to the Red Keep might make your situation close. The only way you could have her come would be to attain power through marriage. Soon they would betroth you to Jason Lannister. But you doubted he would keep his nose out of your business. Yet who else could you marry then?

Most nights you lay awake mulling over the past. Elinor brought you tea to help with sleep, which remained on the night table, untouched. In the moonlight you examined the scars on your wrists. Tonight you would likely dream again. Under a loose floorboard was a small dream diary. While you figured out what to do with Alys it would be prudent to keep an eye on these dreams. Books were hidden in various parts of your room. If Cerilla was spying on you it was best to hide anything suspect. Of course these books anyone could take out. But if someone found multiple books about the north in your room they might ask question. It would be just like that bitch to get you in trouble.

Not that the books told you anything about magic. Just mentions of old traditions and the north's history. Granted, knowing more about the north might help. But you were still left deeply frustrated. This far down south it was hard to find anything that could help. Andal tradition demanded that anything south of Moat Cailin be subjected to their ways, except for the few Weirwood trees scattered around. You had tried to get information from the tree. But aside from muddled visions and whisperings, nothing useful could be deciphered. It left you in a miserable mind.

At some point in the night you thought someone was outside the door. Someone who was not your guard. Pretending to sleep you saw the outline of a skirt. 'Some spy.' You thought.

The next morning you had an idea. The girl might not be able to find anything, but you did not like to be spied on. Rage made you want to hurt this girl. She would regret ever having played a role in Cerilla's schemes. True it was a ruthless plan, definitely spiteful. But she had destroyed the only place where you might be able to hide from prying eyes. So you would do the same to her. There was nothing would now not do. Long ago in another life time you might have balked at doing such things. Now it gave you a pleasure you had never known, ever truly indulged in. You had raged against Ellyn in the past, but only when she provoked you. Never alone had you been the architect of ones misfortune. You would posses power, whatever magic you may harness, and the power to reap vengeance on your enemies.

'Y/n, Princess Ellyn has summoned you.' Pulled out of your thoughts, you saw one of Ellyn's handmaidens standing by the door. Oh, right. You were in Ellyn's service at this time. In all honesty it was a bit funny. Once she had terrorized you so, now hatred had melted that fear. Besides, there were those you now hated more. Despite that, you remembered the interaction clearly. Being imprisoned for months on end gave one time to reminisce. You had poured over every detail and thought of ways you could avenge yourself. And to your savage delight, you could. She would dismiss Cerilla and have you alone tend to her. And on a table near by were nails filers. Sharp pieces of metal to style nails, or slice through skin.

In that moment a thought occurred to you. Had the handmaiden, who had now departed, seen the smile that curled upon your face she might have thought twice. Getting up you decided that yes, you would be more than happy to help. Slowly you made the walk to Ellyn's chambers. Last time you had walked slowly out of nerves. Now you did so in order for the time to be right. Your hands shook with excitement. Oh she would regret summoning you. Whatever accusation she hurled would pale in comparison to what was about to happen. She wanted to ruin your reputation, you would destroy hers.

To enter Ellyn's bathing chambers one had to walk through her bedroom. Six ladies sat sewing or talking in low voices. Good. They would hear the scream. A few looked up and you, one or two gave greetings. No one seemed to notice you looked unnaturally gleeful. A maid opened the door and you stepped into the moist, heavily perfumed room. It was like stepping back in time, because you were stepping back in time. Everything was just as it was last time. Ellyn in a bath, Cerilla fussing over her hair, and a maid. Cerilla gave you a nasty look. Much good it did, your attention was all on Ellyn. You would deal with Cerilla later. 'You. Get the herbs.' It was strange to see Ellyn so healthy. Jaecerion had not gotten to her yet. 'You never should have been so cruel to me.' You thought.

Nothing was said as you placed the herbs in warm water. You could feel Ellyn's cold blue eyes on you. Luxuriously she stretched out and eyed you imperiously. She had no idea what was about to happen. 'I think this suits you.' You wanted to say something. Ellyn no longer scared you as she once had. But for your plan to work everything had to go as it did last time. 'The Princess is speaking to you.' Yipped Cerilla the little lap dog. 'If the Princess whishes me to answer she may say so herself.' You heard the water splash as Ellyn got up and in a moment was out of the tub. Her nails dug into your skin just as they had last time. Back then it had hurt, but since then you had faced far worse. There were no tears in your eyes. Because you were no longer that little girl. You had always been prideful, but buckled under Ellyn.

'I am the Princess, you are my lady in waiting! You are nothing compared to me.' When her grip tightened you cried out. Louder than last time so they would all heart. 'I will keep you by my side if only to further vex you. Every night I will have you wait as my husband loves me. And when I have his son you may be here to assist. Then maybe I'll send you to the Silent Sister to release you from your torment.' Cerilla and the maid left, the door slamming shut. This was so easy you wanted to laugh. Last time she had laughed, you remembered. Not this time.

'How do you know it will be a boy.' You had leaned in very closely. The whisper could only be heard by you two. A hot ugly flush crept up her cheeks. 'No laughter?' You thought. Suddenly you were thrown back against the table. Behind you could hear the clattering of nail files. 'I am simply curious, no brothers...I mean. And I have heard some men put away...deficient wives. Perhaps you, not I, will be sent to the Silent Sisters.' Ellyn's hands closed about your throat. Her thin nails scratched at the skin. 'You bitch! I will have you flayed alive!' She hissed, and unlike you her words could be heard outside. Suddenly Ellyn jerked back, because in your hand was the nail file. It sparkled n the sunlight. Pale, unmoving, Ellyn stood here frozen. Then she sneered. 'I am a princess. You can not harm me.' 'Oh, your right. You seized her by the arm. An insidious smile curled on your lips, shocking the princess. And then in front of Ellyn you cried out 'Please don't hurt me!' all the while smiling. You forced the nail file between thin fingers, the sharp edge pointed right towards you. But you can harm me'. That was when Ellyn, with horror, realized what you were about to do. But it was too late. Pointing the razor towards flesh, you stabbed.

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, trauma, mentions of child morality emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, grey reader

Taglist:

@daenerysqueenofhearts

@le-petit-lulu

@aemondswifeisme

@mandiiblanche

@gknj9495

@minakay

@strangersunghoon

@iilsenewman

@moonlightfoxx

@gknj9495

@heartb8k2

@dahlias-and-marigolds

@dumbhxeredrose

@m-riaa

@sweetsnow88

@blxkstar

@seomta

@sxlsvv

[anotherjheastan]

Another Complicated Love Story

A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley FanFic

Chapter 7 | Masterlist

CW mentions sex, suggestive

Chapter 8: Officially Yours

Rhea woke up, surprised she still had her head resting on Jey’s chest, his arm holding onto her. They usually both moved a bit in their sleep, but then again, they were exhausted when they finally went to bed. Rhea sat up and groaned as she stretched. She thought about last night as Jey stirred beside her, reaching for her before he slowly opened his eyes.

Rhea had gotten the two rounds she had mentioned and they showered together afterward. They were talking about starting round 3 in the shower when Jessica knocked.

Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but I have to use the toilet. Please don’t have sex while I’m in here.

Rhea and Jey laughed.

We won’t, Rhea replied.

Rhea smiled.

“Good morning,” Jey said as he sat up. He put his arm around her shoulder.

“Good morning,” Rhea replied. She moved over a little so she could look at him.

“That was the best sleep I had in a while,” Jey said.

“Same. It was the orgasms,” Rhea said, grinning.

Jey chuckled. “Not just that.”

He stroked her cheek and she leaned into him.

“I love you,” he said.

Rhea’s heart beat faster. “I love you.”

He smiled and leaned in. Rhea kissed him, her hand rested on his chest. She heard his stomach growl and laughed.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” Rhea said, standing up to get dressed. She only had on Jey’s pink YEET shirt.

Jey checked his phone. “More like lunch. It’s 1:10.”

“Wow. We slept late,” Rhea said.

“We went to bed late,” Jey replied.

They met each other’s eyes and grinned. They grabbed their toothbrushes to go brush their teeth.

When they left the sunroom, Jimmy, Naomi, and Jessica were on the couch.

“Oh well look who’s finally up!” Jimmy said. “We’re thinking about ordering lunch. You missed breakfast.”

“Yeah Naomi’s waffles might be better than Waffle House,” Jessica said.

“I will take that high praise,” Naomi said. “Y’all look well-rested. And happy. Everything good?”

Rhea smiled. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

“Mhmm,” Naomi said, eyeing the two of them. “Well go brush your nasty teeth. We’ll wait for y’all to order.”

“Do we have to?” Jimmy asked.

“Don’t do us like that, Big Jim!” Jey said.

“Be nice, babe,” Naomi said.

Jimmy sighed. “Well y’all hurry up.”

Jey and Rhea rushed upstairs and brushed their teeth. Everyone was craving a little something different so they ordered from Cheesecake Factory. They searched for a movie to watch while waiting for the food.

“Jess, I owe you some girl time,” Rhea said, letting go of Jey’s arm and linking it with Jessica’s.

“It’s okay! I’m having fun. I’m solidifying my friendship with Naomi and Jimmy. Maybe I’ll come visit them next time,” she said with a laugh. “But no, I’m happy you and Jey are back in a good place. I’ll even share you again tonight so I can catch up with Tony.”

“Really?” Rhea asked.

“Yeah, but you have to go to Jey’s. I heard enough in the bathroom this morning.”

Rhea buried her face in Jessica’s shoulder while everyone laughed. She smiled at Jessica.

“Tomorrow is all about you,” Rhea said.

“Maybe Naomi can join us for lunch tomorrow?” Jessica asked.

“Yeah, let’s do it, J-Girl!” Naomi said.

“My own nickname?! I won,” Jessica said.

The food arrived and after selecting a movie, they ate. Jessica and Rhea thanked Jimmy and Naomi for hosting them before heading out.

Jey carried their bags to the car and loaded the trunk. Rhea hugged and kissed him.

“I’ll see you soon,” Rhea said.

“Looking forward to it,” Jey said. “Let me know when y’all make it back.”

“Will do.”

Jey gave Jessica a hug. “It was nice meeting you. Sorry for the awkward intro.”

“No worries,” Jessica said. “Glad I didn’t have to kick you in the dick.”

Rhea busted out laughing and Jey looked confused.

“I’ll tell you later,” Rhea wheezed between laughs.

Jey went back inside. He got his stuff ready. He made sure the sunroom was cleaned up.

“I told you you don’t have to worry about that,” Naomi said.

“I can’t be a bad houseguest,” Jey said. “Thank you for everything.”

“No problem, bro,” Naomi said, giving him a hug.

“Thanks Big Jim,” Jey said, dapping him up.

“You know I got your back like chiroprat,” Jimmy said.

“If I see y’all at the New Year’s Eve party, if not before then,” Jey said.

“Deuces uces,” Jimmy and Naomi said simultaneously.

Jey shook his head and headed out the door.

***

Rhea smiled as Jey’s face lit up when he answered the door. She had on a grey hoodie, a white crop top, and grey sweatpants, and white sneakers. She wanted to be daring and show up in a trench coat with nothing underneath, but she decided to play it cool for now. Things were still mending.

“Hi beautiful,” he said, taking her duffle bag.

“Hi handsome,” she replied.

She walked into the apartment. Jey went to set her bag down in his room. She walked into the kitchen to get a water bottle, but gasped when she saw the coffee maker.

“Jey, who got you this? This is a good one,” Rhea said, admiring it. She looked at the bags of coffee, some of her favorites.

“Oh whoever got this has good taste. Those are my faves. You joining the coffee crew, Uso?” Rhea said, turning around.

He came into the kitchen, beaming.

“Actually, it’s for you,” Jey said.

Rhea furrowed her brow. “For me? But I have a coffee maker.”

“I know. And tomorrow morning, you don’t have to go anywhere to get coffee.”

Rhea blushed, feeling silly for not putting two and two together.

“You bought it just for me?” Rhea asked.

Jey nodded. “Now you can take your time and stay with me a little longer.”

Rhea’s heart felt full. She gently grabbed his face and kissed him. He held her tightly and kissed her back. Rhea pulled away. She started walking backwards slowly to his room. She took her hoodie off.

“Grab two water bottles and meet me in your room. Actually…grab four. Maybe some snacks. We might be in there a while,” Rhea said. She took off her crop top. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She smiled at Jey, who looked dazed. She disappeared into his room and called out, “The water bottles, Jey.”

She giggled as she heard him scrambling. She took off the rest of her clothes and waited for him.

February 13, 2025

Jey felt nervous as he waited for Rhea to come up to the hotel suite. He had arrived yesterday to make sure the room would be decorated for their Valentine’s Day getaway. And he had a special surprise for her: a red glowing LED sign with a white backdrop asking the question “Will you be my girlfriend?”

He held a necklace in his hands - an obsidian heart shaped stone with a stainless steel back that outlined the heart with diamonds. He felt like me shouldn’t be so nervous. It wasn’t like he was proposing. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans for a third time.

They had chosen Charlotte since they had an episode of Raw to shoot on Monday. Now they wouldn’t have to rush. And they were close to the stadium.

Jey had been planning on decorating the room, but after last week when she mentioned that’s ready to be official, he decided to do a little something extra.

“Hello?” Rhea called as she pushed into the hotel room. “Ooo rose petals!”

Jey smiled. The petals would lead her to him. He was around the corner.

“Champagne. Nice, we’ll open that soon,” Rhea said.

Jey tried not to laugh at her commentary.

“Are you here, babe?”

“Yes, keep walking,” Jey said.

Rhea came around the corner and gasped. She covered her mouth.

“Jey, you didn’t have to do all this,” Rhea said.

“This? This is nothing. Come here,” he said.

“I’m in sweatpants! Why didn’t you tell me to dress up?”

“We’re going to dinner in a few hours. We can take pictures then.”

She stood in front of him and smiled. He held out the box. She took it.

“Do I open it now?”

“First, let me say that I’m glad we’re still together. It’s been a lot of ups and downs already and now that we’re both doing well in therapy, I feel like we can handle anything. You said you were ready to be my girlfriend and we’re here to make it official. So will you be my girlfriend, Miss Ripley?”

“I would love to be your girlfriend, Mr. Uso,” Rhea said, grinning.

“Open it,” Jey said.

Rhea gasped at the necklace. “It’s beautiful. You spoil me.”

“You deserve it,” he said.

Rhea put the necklace down and hugged him. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Jey said. He leaned in and kissed her.

“Is it too early for champagne?” Rhea asked.

“No. There’s also chocolate covered strawberries in the fridge.”

Rhea squealed excitedly and ran back to the kitchen. Jey laughed and followed her, looking forward to their long weekend together.

[bbkoolkatz]

pairing: barbarian prince! katsuki bakugo x fem! reader

content warning: violence, injuries, blood, death, implied torture, captivity, drugging, coercion, non-consensual restraint, threats of death, xenophobia, cultural discrimination, grief, fear, power dynamics, emotional distress, attempted intimidation, aaand use of weapons. lemme know if I missed somethin.

this one's extremely short 'cause I couldn't leave y'all with nothin. there's barely any katsuki I KNOW! but trust🙏 this is just a fraction of the next chapter! hope ya enjoy and look forward to Saturday! 🌸

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3 𝖕𝖙1 𝖕𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 1.3k+words

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2!

"you must pull the rope harder, my lady," ragna instructed, glancing at you with a faint smirk, "or you'll be chasing after your tent when the wind picks up."

"ha ha, ragna," you rolled your eyes, blowing away stray strands of hair from your face, "i've got this," giving her a small pat her on the shoulder. putting up tents isn't so difficult after all. you stood proud in front of your hard work, admiring it with your hands on your hips.

a huge shadow that glided overhead caught your attention. soaring the night sky on his beautiful crimson beast, was your husband—who should be having dinner with you around the little bon fire you also worked so hard on, to get going.

"does he ever rest?" you yawned, squinting up to see when he'd fly by again.

"on a night like this? i'm afraid he will not." ragna shrugged, poking a stick in the fire absentmindedly. you glanced upward again, catching sight of your husband's silhouette against the moonlit sky. and you sighed —a soft sigh— to yourself.

to the far end of the gathering, the tetsugami rested peacefully in some tall bushes as mitsuki's guards marched around camp at the bark of her order. after ensuring your belongings were secured, you threw yourself onto the thin slab of cushion, snuggling in to make yourself comfortable and you began to drift off.

your eyes shot open to a scuffle outside your tent and you flew up, reaching for the dagger mitsuki gifted you on your wedding night, under your makeshift pillow, preparing to launch at whoever was about to enter your tent.

your heart pounded against your ribs as the tent flap flew open and you moved instinctively, springing toward the intruding figure.

"frú mín! it is me!" ragna dodged, holding her hands up by the sides of her head. "we must go, now!" she hissed, clutching the side of her waist.

there was no time to ask questions, you nodded taking her word as you rushed out of your tent. the guards were scattered all over the forest grounds, laying in pools of their own blood before you. "where's mother!?" you instantly panic, eyes darting about, hoping not to find her laying among the defeated guards.

"she's... waiting for us -gasp- near the... tetsu-gami," ragna heaved, coughing as she spoke. "we must hurry -ahgk!-"

"ragna!"

"run!" she gasped, decapitating the the man who sneaked up behind and stab her. you hesitated—"we- we have to stop the bleeding!"—looking at her sluggish form—she's heavy—you try to hold her up. "please, my lady... i'll be okay," she wheezed, "your life... matters m-most..." weakly smiling as she caressed your face with a bloody hand.

"i can't just leave you," tears threatened to fall, as she whimper out yet another plea. with a heavy sigh and a hesitant squeeze on her hands, you stood up, turning on your heels, making a sprint toward the tetsugami. you frantically bat webs and low branches out of way as you ran through the dark forest, wiping at the hot tears that flowed down your face, blurring your vision.

"mær mín!" a worried voice called out to you, you stumbled forward, and they caught you, holding you up by the shoulders, "hvar er ragna!?" ragna... tears well up in your eyes at ragna's name... mitsuki took the hint, and grabbed your hand.

"þú ert framtíð okkar. finndu katsuki. farðu!"

"ekki svona fljótt," a low, sinister voice, snaked into your ear... and before you even react, your limbs seized up, the air feeling much colder as an anonymous figure loomed behind you.

mitsuki wasted no time in drawing her sword and swinging it at his head with a grunt. the shriek of katsuki's dragon made your heart race, relieved to hear the beast's rumble, descending from the skies above. he leaped off the overgrown lizard, charging forward with no hesitation, incoherently yelling at the man who held you captive—before a dark cloud of smoke swallowed you both in almost an instant, leaving katsuki standing there dumbfounded as he took in the scene in front of him.

-

no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't move a muscle, you couldn't talk and it felt like you were burning up—trapped inside your own skin.

"haltu henni niðri!" he commanded his people, and as soon as his hands left your body, you felt a rush of blood coursing through your veins as the feeling returned to your limbs. you fought back, kicking and twisting out of their holds as much as you can, as hands tried to grab you.

unfortunately, it wasn't enough. their sizes and strength, greatly overwhelmed yours. one of them managed to loop a cloth around your face, and you struggled against the drowsiness invading your system at the bitter scent of it.

"you're... going... to die... for this..." you mummur your last words, before your eyes we're completely shut.

-

your hands were bound, and your head throbbed from the drug they'd used to knocked you out. you roll your shoulders back, feeling a sore muscle right under your shoulder blade as your eyes flutter open.

"gods... i hoped this was one of those really realistic dreams..." you groan, scanning your surroundings. you we're in a tent, similar to those of the barbarian clan... and there was a tall wiry figure in the corner, both palms pressing against a wooden slab of a table in front of him.

"your blood has no place in our clan." he spat, looking over his shoulder in disgust, and you had to shake your head a bit, to come to your senses properly, rubbing your ear against your shoulder... did he just... "your blood will sully our future warriors." he continued. oh he's definitely speaking your language...

"your learned my language just to say that to me?" you mocked, "how sweet," teasing his supposed efforts.

he stared at you, a sneer tugging at the corner of his lips. "you are most lucky our ritual requires your death at dawn..."

"at dawn!?" you dramatically gasped, and if you could, you'd dramatically put a hand on your chest to emphasize, "couldn't you have waited longer?" sarcasm laced in your voice as you glared back at him.

"i'm beginning to wish i didn't use that spell on you," he grumbled, turning back to whatever he had splayed out in front of him.

"you gave me something as useful as your language?" you mused at his stupidity, "why on earth would you do that?" giggling to yourself.

he turned around completely, looking confused as ever as he watched down at you tied to the bottom of the tent's center post. "i did it for myself. do not misunderstand." he sneered, scrunching his nose at your significantly smaller frame below him.

"why?" was all you said, keeping eye contact.

"why?" he chuckled, "i want to hear your cries of agony as every ounce of your blood drains from your small, feeble body." he stooped in front of you, bracing a hand near your head against the thick pole.

you raise a brow, the corner of your mouth twisting into a sardonic smile, "was that supposed to scare me?" you leaned forward, countering his intimidation.

his expression faltered for a fraction of a second, but he shook it off, motioning for his men to fix your restraints and they left you alone. your mind worked furiously, calculating your next move.

then a sudden heat surged through every fiber of your muscles, you felt like you were beginning to break into a cold sweat as your vision blurred. your head spun toward the entrance of the tent, hearing rustling sounds outside.

a familiar face peeked through the flap and a wave of relief washed over you and tears began to flow uncontrollably from you reddened eyes, "ragna," you cried, sniffling like a little brat.

»»————> 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘! <————««

Frú mín! - "My lady!"

Hvar er Ragna!? - "Where is Ragna!?"

Þú ert framtíð okkar. Finndu Katsuki. Farðu! - "You are our future. Find Katsuki. Go!"

Ekki svona fljótt. - "Not so fast."

Haltu henni niðri! - "Hold her down!"

Mær mín! - "My girl!"

»»————> 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙!

@twoplayergaymers @ch3rryjampi3 @lxdystxrdustt @selfishgucci @sleepyfxce @depressed-waffle-time @abinformyobsessions @kodzubaby @cottagedumpling @msjaeger @condy-wants-a-cookie @who-xo @naiomiwinchester @your-mum3000 @weebperson2003 @koigeidi @lanadelgarf @misaki-kira8 @lightsinmycity @kit-katsukii @the2ndl @kalulakunundrum @eyesforbkg @httpfandxms @luvbuuny @goodiesinthecloset21 @qyuin

mlist!

[thecloudstan]

The Rest is Shadows

Chapters: 3/10 (for now) Word Count: 11,618 Fandom: Final Fantasy 7 Remake Pairing: Cloud Strife/Rufus Shinra Rating: Explicit

Cloud Strife, under a stage name, has quickly become one of Andrea Rhodea's star performers and escorts at the Honeybee Inn, and whose attention should he snag other than THE Vice President of Shinra Electric Power Company, Rufus Shinra. Remake universe canon divergent au in which Jenova does not exist, the Wutai war is long since won, there is no impending threat from Sephiroth, and Avalanche as we know it is in its infancy. Cloud is 21, Rufus is 30.

Read on ao3

I grew anxious with this and have the urge to share part of what has been completed. No posting schedule for now, but I would say what's posted is about 1/3 of the final vision. Enjoy, and thank you <3

[saintobio]

blank canvas. (2)

after offering a painful ultimatum to finally be enough for him, things ultimately get worse as he decides between keeping you or losing you as the only resolution.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. strong language, defloration (kinda), explicit smut, undertones of manipulation and gaslighting, toxic relationship, undertones of cheating

notes. 11.2k wc! thanks for the love on bc1, i didn't expect it to gain traction at all but tyty. last part will come soon, but that will be the final chapter to this mini-series.

part 1 | part 3

The ride back home was uncomfortable. 

It wasn’t because you had promised to give yourself to him that night, but rather because his uncharacteristic silence was not what you had expected after delivering your ultimatum. You already proposed a wonderful solution to his needs, so why was he acting like you were the one being ridiculous? This was why you hated it whenever Sukuna chose silence over open communication, as it left you a hard time guessing about what was running through his mind. His expression didn’t offer any clues either, because he did pretty well at concealing his emotions behind a facade of indifference.

When you said you would do it with him, you meant it. But what did he think of it? 

The sharp wind cut through your skin, the roar of his motorbike deafening your ears as your boyfriend accelerated his vehicle upon entering the tunnel. The vibrant yellow lights offered a cinematic view, tempting you to imagine yourself embracing the wind with open arms, though you knew better than to do so. Instead, you held onto him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning forward as he sped through the empty lane.

It was nearing midnight, and the sparse traffic allowed Sukuna to indulge in one of his habits: riding his bike in the late hours of the night through this particular tunnel and onto the highway. You knew this ritual helped him clear his mind since it offered a rush of danger that sharpened his focus on the road. His choice to take this route tonight also only confirmed to you that he was grappling with internal thoughts. The last time he rode this fast was when your parents made you choose between them and him, slapping it in his face that he was and would never be welcomed in your family. 

To be honest, it frightened you. The speed at which he was riding was dangerous for both of you. Moreover, his bike was a YZF-R1, although street-legal, it was still a high-performance sport bike more suited for the track. It required agile and precise handling with its 1000cc engine. Yet, no other vehicle seemed more fitting for Sukuna than this. 

Whatever was on his mind, he didn’t care to let you know. You two didn’t really speak throughout the ride while you clung to him like a backpack, praying in your head that you two wouldn’t get into an accident. Thankfully enough, he did safely take you home as you arrived at your shared apartment at exactly midnight. 

“Please don’t ride like that again,” you muttered as he helped you out of his motorbike. “You could’ve gotten us killed.” 

His fingers then reached to unclasp your helmet, pulling it up to reveal your face. “Well, we’re still alive.” 

You looked at his face despite his best effort to avoid yours, standing centimeters apart while he switched off the engine. He didn’t return your gaze as though he was drowned by guilt. Should you speak at this? Or should you let him do it first? 

“Baby.” After a minute or so, it was your boyfriend who sighed and finally gave in, pulling you close and resting his forehead against yours. He kept his eyes closed even when he was cupping your cheeks. “You don’t have to do this.” 

Yes, you certainly shouldn’t. You didn’t have to do things unwillingly, but that wouldn’t change the fact that this on-going issue was putting a strain on your relationship and this would be your last shot at trying to salvage it. And you couldn’t have him looking for sensual gratification from anyone else other than you, so what other option did you have, really? 

“I want to do it.” 

“Not if you’re forcing yourself like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m forcing myself?”

“Your face tells me you are,” replied he, staring at your face in defeat. “So, let’s not—”

“What, and let this issue haunt us over and over?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head adamantly. “This has to be done. I need to experience it so I’ll finally understand.”

Understand what? His face almost spelled out those words, but he chose not to say anything of the sort and instead leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Alright. I’ll make it memorable.” 

— —

Easier said than done, of course. You kept overthinking about whether your performance would be satisfactory to him given that you didn’t have enough experience to learn anything at all, aside from the make out sessions that you did once in a blue moon. Around thirty minutes of your time was spent hyperanalyzing your situation in the shower, while the other half of it was spent doing a little more than your nightly routines. Since Sukuna liked powdery scents, you placed a good effort in applying lavender-scented oil and perfume on every inch of your body. You also shaved any unwanted hair, especially on all the intimate places you knew he would be seeing. And by the time you were done, you stepped out of the bathroom blooming like a fresh flower, wrapped in nothing but a thin towel that hugged your womanly figure. 

It didn’t feel right at all. It didn’t feel good knowing that you were preparing yourself like that, when these things should only happen on the first night after your wedding. It didn’t feel great that you were going to lose your virginity to a man who had not even proposed to you. This wasn’t even your honeymoon, but you had to pretend like it was. 

Did Sukuna feel the same? 

He wasn’t lying in bed when you walked out of the bathroom. Instead, he had just returned from outside—shirtless, wearing his favorite gray sweatpants, and holding a box of condoms and a tube of lube in his hand. It was clear he had made a quick visit to the convenience store nearby and got the essentials for your first night.

Immediately, he eyed your towel-wrapped body with restrained lust, clearing his throat as he walked towards the nightstand. “You look nice.” 

Really? Did he really have to make this more awkward than it already was? 

“Thank you,” was all you could softly reply. It was funny how he pretended to be busy placing the box and tube above the bedside table instead of lunging at you like a desperate man. But because you wanted to get this over with, you were the one who approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist, and touching the firmness of his abs. For someone who had zero experience, you were definitely trying hard enough and that should please him. “You have to help me out here, my love. Guide me.” 

When Sukuna turned around, your heart started racing. Of excitement? Maybe. Of anxiety? Perhaps. He made it better though when he finally caved in and looked straight into your eyes, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before lifting your chin with his hand. “You smell extra nice, too,” he added, leaning close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. 

You were feeling it now. The equal lust. The carnal desire. The feeling of his sweet kisses, which he made true as soon as he crashed his lips onto yours. His kisses usually ranged from tender to rough, but this time, it was an altogether different type of kiss. It was passionate and demonstrative, as if showing you exactly what he had been wanting to do to you the first time you got together. This must be the result of being celibate in over a year. He was clearly a man deprived of sexual pleasure, and you were responsible for it. You actually turned him into a monk. 

Now, he wasn’t holding anything back anymore. With his hand on your nape, he deepened the kiss to the point where you could feel his tongue exploring your mouth. You followed whatever he was doing like a good girl, like a very good girl, as he completely devoured your mouth with his. It didn’t take long for him to advance his kisses in other places too, being your jawline his next target, and then your neck as he feathered kisses around the soft flesh, leaving marks that would need a few days to be concealed. 

Because his arms were tight around your waist, yours were locked around his neck. Where else should you be putting them? What does the girl usually do in this situation? You tried not to think much of it and listened to your own body while your boyfriend was sucking the skin around your collarbone. At first, your hand traced his toned chest, then it moved southwards to feel his abs, and further down to his…

“Y-You’re hard.” Your eyes widened as you felt his growing erection behind the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t your first time seeing his boner, but it was the first time you touched it with your own hand. It was the first time you had your palm stroking his length, swallowing hard as you realized just how hard and thick he was. 

“It wants to be inside you,” he whispered through your mouth, kissing you back again, “so bad, baby.” 

Gosh. Your knees felt weak and you two hadn’t even really started yet. How much more when he starts putting that thing of his inside you? You were breathing hard, trying to catch air as your boyfriend continued to lap his tongue with yours, guiding your hand to continue fondling his wood while it grew bigger the more stimulated it got. By letting you touch his hardened crotch together with his own, you realized that you had just unlocked a newfound fetish of yours. “D-Do you… do you think about doing it with me often?”

He bit your lower lip before pulling away, animalistic eyes sending you into an orbit of pleasure. “Do you mean if I touch myself to the thought of you a lot?” he teased, chuckling darkly at the obvious heat on your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel excited at how vulgar he could be with his words. “I do jack off a lot, angel. And it’s always you in my mind.” 

You didn’t even have the time to melt from his words, because before you knew it, he was already peeling the towel off your body to reveal your completely naked figure. Obviously, your first reaction was to get shy—with your heated cheeks, your inability to look him in the eyes, your little efforts in covering your breasts and crotch, but he made sure to pull your hands away while keeping his eyes on you. “…Don’t stare.” 

Sukuna, however, didn’t listen. His dark eyes scanned every curve of your body, particularly around your chest area before he sighed and threw his head back. “Fuck,” he cussed under his breath. “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t believe no other punk has seen you like this.” 

Your confidence grew little by little because of his praises. “But isn’t that a good thing?” 

“For sure.” He almost laughed at his own words, more so in disbelief, before he reached out to touch your bosom. “No one can touch you like this, either, baby.” 

“That’s—”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend smirked at your reaction. While his other hand went to squeeze your breast, the other traveled to your bum, squeezing the cheek with equal fervor. “Can I have a taste of you, baby?”

He fondled your breasts with both hands now, massaging the rounded mass like they were his property. You had to admit to yourself that the feeling of being touched actually transcended your expectations. Or maybe it was only because of how erotic it was, but you couldn’t deny how turned on you were as his veiny, manly hands cupped your bosom. 

And as soon as you nodded and permitted him to ‘taste’ you, he took no time in gently pushing you down the mattress, allowing you to lay at a comfortable position under him and his wanton stare. Taste you? He was more like eating you, when he pinned you against the mattress and sucked the skin on your chest. At first, his tongue rolled along your cleavage, inching closer and closer to your right breast while he had his hand squeezing the left. Your body naturally gravitated towards him as you arched your back so he could have better access to your chest. Not only your chest, but also your crotch as he started grinding his clothed manhood in between your folds. 

“Mm…”

Sukuna’s mouth was on your breast now, suckling on your flesh and playing his tongue around your nipple. You couldn’t tell if it was pleasurable or painful because his tongue felt ticklish on your skin, but the suction definitely was an entirely different feeling. Both weren’t bad, anyway. They were just new to you. But even if they were foreign, you were curious and all the more interested, studying every little thing he was doing with your body and trying to make mental notes out of it. 

Maybe you should have watched porn. That way, you could have been more aware of the step-by-step process of having sex. Who knew there were steps to follow at all? You didn’t think that foreplay could draw this much delay in your session because all you thought was that he was going to insert his cock straight inside you as soon as he saw you naked. 

With all the touching, fondling, and kissing… what were you supposed to do? He was doing all the work here. 

“Baby,” you spoke softly, staring at the ceiling, “C-Can I… touch you?” 

Instead of pulling away, his mouth latched onto your left boob, giving it the same attention before moving south. “Not yet.” 

When he said that, you didn’t expect his hand to land on your crotch. Your heart was thumping at an irregular rhythm as you felt his fingers moving in circles around your bud, playing with your clit before spreading your folds apart. “Nghh—!” you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, eyes widening at the sound of your voice, but your boyfriend shushed you by placing a peck on your lips before spreading your legs into a V. 

“You’re so wet,” he said, pointing out the obvious as he positioned himself in between your legs, spreading your labia to reveal your entrance. Something about the situation made you increasingly self-conscious, but his undeniably hungry gaze kept you from covering your most sensitive area. It seemed like he was enjoying the sight of your pussy, especially with how wet and ‘untouched’ it was. “Your pussy’s so pretty, baby,” he mumbled, lowering his face closer to the area, “Can’t wait to put my dick inside it.” 

You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue in between your folds. No, you couldn’t even think straight after he started teasing your vagina, alternating between flicking his tongue around your bud to french kissing your entrance. His tongue was so deep in your cavern that you were raising your hips involuntarily, going insane from the pleasure it sent your body. Your hands even gripped the sheets and your back arched into a C as you held back from moaning like a wild animal. At some point, the slurping sounds and the feeling of his mouth kissing your vagina had your legs shaking. 

Though, you could ask yourself: what turned you on the most? Was it him actually eating your pussy or just the idea of him doing it? 

And just when you thought he was done, he replaced his mouth by inserting a finger inside your cunt, garnering a much louder whimper out of you. “B-Baby!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked, eyes locked with yours as he slowly moved his middle finger in and out. “It’s so tight.” 

“It hurts…” You nodded, feeling his finger moving in circles inside your cunt as though he was trying to get a feel of your walls, measuring the tightness and such. 

He kissed you for a good minute. “Relax, angel. Don’t clench too much.” 

Clench? You didn’t even know you were doing such a thing. “How to…?” 

“Just relax.” Sukuna placed a hand on your abdomen, pressing it down while he was inserting yet another finger inside of you. “This’ll help you prepare so it won’t hurt as much later.” 

Now, you were goddamn nervous. What did he mean it wouldn’t hurt as much? Because you were overthinking the pain of having him his actual cock inside of you. If you couldn’t even bear having his two fingers inside you, how much more with his clearly thick shaft? It was ridiculous to feel both anxious and yet aroused at the same time. Anxious, because you knew he could rip you open. Aroused, because his fingers were currently doing a great job at hitting your most sensitive spot. Whatever it was that he was reaching, it was certainly sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body. 

His fingers continued to move. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Around. When he pulled his digits out, he sucked the juices on them, tasting every drip of your essence from his fingers. “Sweet.”

Were you? You started to get curious at how he tasted, too. Sweet? Salty? Bitter? You seemed to be moving on autopilot when you pulled yourself up and sat in bed on your knees. “Your turn?” 

You asked the question as if you knew what you were doing, which was why Sukuna found it adorable and humorous at the same time. He did help you pull down the sweatpants that had been covering his erection for what felt like eternity, only to reveal a monstrous size that sprung out of the garment. 

Holy fuck was all you could say. 

He stood at the edge of the bed, a devilish smirk displayed on his saintly face as he saw the length of his cock compared to your face. You obviously hadn’t seen many cocks in your lifetime to be able to compare his size, but in your eyes, he was definitely big. He was girthy. He was lengthy. He was veiny. Meaty. 

“Wanna suck it for me, baby?” he encouraged, pumping his shaft while looking at you. Fuck. “Open your mouth.” 

You did as told, wrapping a hand at the base of his length while placing his tip on your mouth. You pressed your tongue flat on the surface of his tip, rolling your tongue around the head as if it were a lollipop. Was that what you were supposed to do?

“Eyes on me.” His voice deepened an octave. And it was also raspier. 

Why did he want you to look up at him? It was already embarrassing. 

“I said, eyes on me, angel.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to lock eyes with his darkened ones. Damn. No wonder girls were desperate to see him in his shop every single day. This was probably what they had been daydreaming about. “Suck my cock.” 

In your head, you became a slut. In reality, you were still a shy, inexperienced virgin who didn’t know what to do. You relied on his instructions and looked at his expressions to know if you were doing a good job and to see what he liked and didn’t like. He definitely liked it when you sucked the head, liked it even more when you started to let him go deeper in your mouth, and surely liked it a hell lot better when you gagged after his cock hit the back of your throat. But in spite of the string of saliva that left your mouth after gagging from his cock, his arousal only grew harder, this time holding your hair in his fist as he began thrusting his hip forward. You were bobbing your head at a rhythm that satisfied him, feeling the stretch on your scalp as he tightened his grip on your hair. 

“Tighten your mouth around it,” he instructed, fucking your mouth senselessly like hitting your throat was driving him nuts. Your eyes were already filling up with tears because of your urge to gag again, but you didn’t think it would be a good idea to stop now while he was just starting to pleasure himself. 

This was the first time in your life to give someone a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to make of that experience. It personally didn’t give you pleasure, but you liked hearing his desperate moans. You liked hearing him curse and get vulgar with his words. You liked seeing him get rough. His taste, on the other hand, was somewhat a different experience. Since you were only sucking his flesh, it was a tad bit salty at first contact but didn’t taste anything much after tongue got used to the skin around his shaft. Perhaps his cum would have a stronger flavor, though it looked like he had no plans in releasing his load into your mouth as he pulled his member out. 

“Fuck it,” he grunted, gently pushing you back and spreading your legs wide open again, “I wanna feel your pussy so bad. Can I fuck you raw, babe?” 

All those condoms, and he wanted to have you raw? 

“But… I don’t wanna get pregnant.” 

His face was full of assurance, shaking his head and denying any chance of knocking you up. “You won’t be. I’ll pull out, I just… I have to feel you raw the first time. I have to.” 

“Okay…” 

You were nervous as hell. You had butterflies in your stomach, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t silence. You had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, the reality of it was too overwhelming. Your mind yet again raced with a whirlwind of doubts and insecurities, and every nerve on your body seemed to be on high alert while you watched him getting occupied with rubbing his entire length with lube, ensuring a smooth entrance inside you. 

He was nervous too, right? You couldn’t be the only one. You couldn’t be. 

You just wanted everything to be perfect. To show him how much you cared. To feel that you were enough. But the thought was paralyzing. Tonight was more than just physical intimacy; it was a step forward in your relationship, a moment of connection you wanted so badly to cherish. This first intimate encounter should be filled with love, respect, and mutual understanding. 

But what if after this, he’d come to realize that you weren’t the one? What if he’d get disappointed and tell you that you weren’t worth it? What if he’d leave you for someone else who could pleasure him better? What if, after you had given yourself to him, no one else would ever appreciate you anymore? 

You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted to feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the intimacy of your connection. You wanted to explore this uncharted territory with him, to dive headfirst into the unknown and discover what lay on the other side. But were you really ready for this? Did you truly want this? Would it be everything you had imagined, or would you regret losing your virginity to him?

The fear of inadequacy gnawed at your confidence as Sukuna positioned himself back in between you, his tip rubbing at your slit a couple times before he finally sunk it into your entrance. 

“Haaa—!” 

“Shh. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“N-No, I—!”

It felt like your walls were being stretched so painfully, like your flesh was being torn open in the most agonizing way. This was not the kind of pain you pictured out when he put his member inside. Sukuna even tried to grab hold of your hips to keep you steady, but you were withdrawing your hips back, wanting nothing but for him to remove his cock. 

“It hurts… It hurts… please, stop. Please!” 

“Baby, I’m trying to be gentle—”

“I SAID STOP!” 

Both of your eyes widened at the same time, and that was the only time you two were ever in sync. He was clearly shocked by your outburst, while you yourself were surprised at how you raised your voice at him. Neither of you expected that situation. As a result, he did pull away and completely withdrew himself from you. 

Frustration was evident on his visage and he couldn’t even hide it anymore. “Fuck this,” he spat in exasperation, taking a deep breath as he reached to slip his sweatpants back on. “I knew it.” 

“No, I…” You swallowed. “It just… You kinda forced it, I wasn’t ready.” 

“I forced it, really? I forced you?” His laugh was out of complete disbelief. “I never forced you into anything, angel. I’ve asked you since the beginning if this is really what you want.” He took a pause, a very uncomfortable one, before he went on murmuring, “It was just my tip and you’re overreacting like this. I’m not even halfway in.”

His agitation had finally awakened you to your senses, realizing that you did end up doing what you were scared of doing. You ruined the moment. You were so caught up in your bubble of negative thoughts that you had once again failed to fulfill what you were supposed to do. No wonder he was aggravated, now sitting away from you and wearing his clothes as if telling you that he was done. Done being blue balled by his own girlfriend. Done expecting something he was never really bound to have. 

You reached out to touch his arm. “Baby, I’m sorry… I just got scared, but we can still—”

“Still do it?” he continued your sentence by ironically cutting you off, “No, the fuck, I won’t. I’m not in the mood anymore.” 

His reaction brought tears to your eyes, because the way he was acting stung your fragile heart. You didn’t mean to ruin anything. More importantly, you didn’t wish for everything to just turn out like this. “I-I’m sorry. Let me try again, please.” 

The weakness of your voice seemed to have softened him, becoming calmer and more composed after a few minutes of contemplation, but he still held his ground when he massaged his temple and sighed. “Let’s just not push it, Y/N.” He looked at your eyes, with hurt and rejection reflecting on them. “Even if you say you wanna do it, you think I can’t see it in your face that you’re not really into it? You’re never ready for me and maybe it’s my fault, maybe there’s something about me that you’re so scared of. Maybe it’s because you don’t feel secure with me, maybe you wanna save yourself for someone better, someone who can give you a brighter future—”

“That’s not true!” You shook your head desperately, your eyes blurring from the pool of tears while you clung to his arm. Where was all this coming from? It sounded like he had been harboring those feelings for so long. “That’s not true. What are you even saying?” 

“I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just…” Trying to give a reason why you won’t give it to me. That must be what he had wanted to say. “Look, I don’t wanna pressure you into this bullshit anymore. I don’t wanna make it look like I’m begging for your affection like this. Intimacy should happen normally for couples, and if we can’t have that, then we can’t. That’s it.” 

Why did he sound like he was giving up? 

You tried to keep your emotions at bay while listening to him battling with his internal thoughts. “I understand I disappointed you tonight, but…”

He was adamant at shaking his head, distancing himself from you by getting up from the bed. “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for. It’s your body and your choice. I’d never force you into anything.” 

Then… then…

“I just think it’s not the perfect time,” he continued, shooting you a glance before looking away. Each step he took added another crack on your fragile heart. “From now on, I’m never gonna initiate anything intimate nor will I expect anything from you, aight? I’m over it.”

Alone in your vulnerability, you could feel the cold air hugging your naked body as you watched him walk towards the door, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. “Where a-are you going? Come on… Please.” 

He no longer cared to turn around. He no longer bothered to comfort you as he walked away, muttering, “Just gonna go for a ride. Don’t wait on me.” 

— —

Nearly three weeks had passed since that night and you would be lying if you said everything was okay. 

No, everything was not okay. You could feel the distance growing each day even when you two still did everything together. Your normal routines didn’t feel normal anymore because he was acting too detached ever since he told you that he wouldn’t initiate anything intimate ever again. And to be honest? It hurt. A whole fucking lot. Hearing your partner say that they would never wish to do anything intimate with you was probably the worst way to experience heartbreak. Because he was truthful with it, and he showed it very openly. 

Now, he’d lock the door whenever he would take showers. He’d spent most of his time outside riding his bike until midnight. He stopped texting you sweet messages while on tattoo shop duty. He seldomly joined you to eat breakfast and dinner together. His back would face you whenever you two slept in bed. His eyes avoided you even when you walked around in underwear. His hand wouldn’t touch you even when you were centimeters close to him. There were no kisses exchanged either, unless obliged to do so when leaving the house. No hugs. No hair-stroking, hand-holding sweetness ever shared. You were simply cohabiting in your shared apartment like strangers who had barely even said I love you’s. 

“Man, that’s rough,” remarked Suguru Getou, your cousin and the barista, as he tidied up the counter behind the elevated bar. Having just served his friend an Americano, he listened intently as you vented about your situation with Sukuna. “I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. It’s not looking good for you.”

You knew that. You just refused to acknowledge it. “I mean, all couples fight.” 

Suguru shook his head, however. “You two aren’t even fighting. Dude just gave up and started detaching himself from you. If that’s not a sign already, then I don’t know what is.” 

“What sign?” you asked, hiding the obvious worry in your voice. You need not be dense about his words, but you wanted to have some kind of hope to grasp on. 

“Sign that he’s falling out of love?” he continued. 

And somehow, his white-haired friend thought it would be okay to chime in. “More like a sign that the tool's not interested anymore and is about to dump her.”

Your face felt hot and in the most terrible way. “Sorry, what was your name again?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You hadn’t expected the guy to suddenly chime in, considering he had been quietly typing on his laptop just moments before. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, so don’t go listening to somebody else’s business when you’re not part of the conversation.”

“Jeez,” said the albino guy, grinning at your cousin as if amused by your barrage of a response. “She’s a yapper, too. I thought she was supposed to be this sweet and innocent type, Suguru?”

“Not always.” Suguru chuckled at his friend before turning to you, apologetic eyes now attempting to soothe your nerves. “Sorry ‘bout that, Y/N. Satoru just likes to tease people. Don’t mind him.”  

You kept a straight face. “Well, then maybe tell your friend to keep his nose out of conversations he’s not invited to.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Satoru gave you a playful salute before extending his hand towards you. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I actually sympathize with you. If it were me, I’d never do that to you, baby.”

Oh, God. You were so bad at this. Was he flirting with you or was he simply playful like this? 

Nevertheless, you rolled your eyes and ignored the hand he offered, essentially brushing off his advances. “I don’t need sympathy. All I’m here for is to talk to my cousin to try and have his advice on the matter,” you emphasized pointedly, making it clear to Satoru that he was the last person you wanted advice from. “I don’t need a stranger listening to my personal life.” 

“Doesn’t hurt to receive advice from another guy,” countered Satoru, shrugging. “Right, Suguru? I mean, we’re both guys. We can give you some insight into how men think.” 

You felt the urge to bury your face in your hands. It was clearly a mistake going there and putting yourself in that situation, and now having two guys aware of your sex life with your boyfriend. That alone was so wrong on many levels. But could it be helped? Suguru was your closest cousin, the only one who didn’t turn his back on you after you left your parents’ home. He was working at a cafe three blocks away from your flower shop and you happened to be delivering a batch of fresh floral decorations for their cafe. You obviously found it a good opportunity to open up to him about your struggling relationship and hoped he could offer some male perspective on Sukuna’s behavior. You just hadn’t anticipated his friend eavesdropping on the conversation the entire time.

Well, that should have been expected anyway, since only the three of you were in that cafe on a lazy Wednesday afternoon. 

“I don’t kiss and tell, by the way.” Satoru was beaming as he gave you that assurance and you couldn’t help but admit that the man had some charm in him. He was attractive, no doubt about it. He was also tall, toned, and seemingly well off based on the way he dressed. He had a casual yet preppy style, something you would normally see from guys who went to private school. 

“Do you work?” you asked out of sheer curiosity. “You don’t seem like the type.” 

“Oh, now she’s interested.” Satoru seemed to have found your sudden interest in him humorous. “I’m finishing my MBA, miss. Thank you for asking.”

“He’s a privileged rich kid with generational wealth and a family business,” Suguru remarked, playfully gesturing a cutting motion across his neck. “Definitely not your type, huh, Y/N?”

“Why, what’s her type?” The white-haired man looked intrigued, pulling his stool closer. He had that stupid grin on his face as though the topic just sparked his curiosity. “What’s her boyfriend like?”

Suguru, who wanted to play along, jokingly hummed in deep thought. “He’s got tattoos, likes to tattoo other people, is a college dropout, rides a big bike, smokes and drinks, listens to heavy metal, was probably a delinquent and a juvie alumni—”

“Excuse you, he’s never been in a juvenile detention center,” you defended your man, feeling like your cousin’s categorization of Sukuna was becoming a little too derogatory and you had to correct him for that, “and he’s a good man. He’s sweet and caring, he’s passionate, and he loves me sincerely.” 

“Sincerely, not?” Satoru quipped, earning your glare in return. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. “I'm just joking. If you believe he’s all that, that’s your choice. I don’t judge booktok girls who romanticize typical bad boys.”

You rolled your eyes at his audacity. Each word that left his mouth seemed to stoke the flames of your irritation. “You’re so offensive, I’ll have you know that.” 

The white-haired guy smugly took a sip from his coffee. “At least I don’t make girls feel guilty for not having sex with me.” 

“Oooh.” Suguru was clearly enjoying the show, unaware that you were one step closer from smacking his friend across the face. “Touché. He kinda has a point, Y/N.” 

“Be serious,” you warned. 

To which he agreed to. “Okay, I am being serious now,” he said, abandoning his playful stance to lean in on a more solemn posture against the counter, “If you think Sukuna makes you feel guilty for not doing it with him, then shouldn’t that speak for the kind of relationship you two have? He wants something you can’t give. His reaction tells you everything you need to know about him.” 

You tried to absorb his words with a better understanding and without any bias. “Isn’t his reaction normal? He’s a man, too. I understand his needs and I made him feel somewhat rejected.”

“It’s all about respect, Y/N,” answered Suguru, “If he’s a decent man, he wouldn’t make you feel that way. No mixed signals, no guilt tripping, no nothing. If you can’t do it, then don’t.” 

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t feel the same if your girlfriend keeps rejecting sex with you?” 

Suguru smirked. “I never said I’m a decent man, either. All I’m saying is if what you want isn’t exactly aligned to what he wants, then maybe it’s best you break it off with him because this shit won’t get you anywhere, Y/N. Trust me. He’s gonna dump you before you know it. I mean, it’s one thing to pretend he’s all fine with it, and it’s another to distance himself from you like he’s silently protesting.” 

“Yeah, that’s true,” Satoru joined in once again. “It’s impossible for a guy like that to be in a relationship for so long and not have any pussy. We think of sex 24/7, some of us are just better at restraining ourselves than others. He’s putting up with it now, but it’s only a matter of time he gets sick and tired of waiting. You do realize he can get any girl he wants, anytime he wants, right?” 

Although you were still uncomfortable at Satoru casually chiming in on the conversation, it was true when they said they could give you the exact male perspective you needed to hear. This allowed you to go deeper into Sukuna’s psyche and understand why he was acting that way. You just didn’t know how to save the connection you have with your boyfriend when both your cousin and his friend were describing all the red flags on Sukuna’s behavior. 

“I don’t know,” you spoke in a tone of defeat. “I kinda understand where he’s coming from, so I can’t just leave him for it. I love him.”

Satoru looked at your cousin like you couldn’t be saved. “She’s in too deep.” 

“Yeah, gaslighted as fuck.” Suguru was shaking his head in disappointment. 

The taller man chuckled and brought up a ridiculous offer to lighten the situation up. “Honestly, Y/N. I know we just met and all, but if you ever need someone to teach you how to do good in bed, just hit me up. He’ll never know.” 

“Shut up,” you shot back at Satoru, eyes rolling at his remark. 

“You’re out here feeling bad for that guy when he could be fucking his clients at the tattoo shop.”

You argued. “No, he’s not—”

“Are you sure he isn’t?” 

It wasn’t Suguru nor Satoru who posed that question; it was Yuki Tsukumo, the café’s manager and Suguru's respected senior. She was in a relationship with one of your boyfriend’s stepbrothers, Choso, and was also a fellow biker, which allowed her to cross paths with Sukuna in their community. Despite this connection, she was never particularly close to him. In fact, Yuki didn’t personally get along with Sukuna and she was very vocal about it. She was, however, a regular client of yours and ordered floral arrangements from your shop on a weekly basis.

It had been awhile since you last saw her, and didn’t expect that the first greeting you would give her was a question. “Yuki, what do you mean?” 

Great. Now, three people know about your relationship quagmires. 

She was placing her helmet at the counter and sitting on a stool before answering you, “I really think you should talk to him about it, Y/N.” 

No, no. Why did you suddenly feel a pang of anxiety out of nowhere? Something about the sympathy in Yuki’s eyes felt unsettling, and it sent a wave of fear through you. She definitely knew something. What was Sukuna doing behind your back?

“Can you please just tell me?” 

Her gaze studied your face intently, as if deliberating on the right thing to do. “Well... I spotted him riding with a girl the other night. Initially, I thought it might be you, but last night, I saw them together again. I recognized her... because it was his ex. I think he’s been giving her rides home lately.” 

Amidst the quiet of the room, your heart felt like it was breaking in two. The sudden revelation sent you into an abyss of pain.

“You might wanna visit his tattoo shop later.” Yuki encouraged me with a comforting smile. “It may be best to confront him about it.”

— —

Sukuna wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. It wasn’t like he was purposely avoiding you, but he just didn’t feel comfortable acting like everything was fine and dandy. Because if he was damn honest, the sexual frustration was fucking with his head. So much so to the point where he started questioning himself if he should still put up with a relationship like this. 

First of all, there were pros and cons involved. He had to consider that it was a special connection filled with special memories, too. 

If he was talking about the pros, he knew he would have a loving lifetime partner with you. You were beautiful, kind, and pure. You inspired him and motivated him to be better. You were unmaterialistic and happy with the littlest things. You gave his dominant side the urge to be a better man, like he was made to protect and provide for you. You became his muse; a blank canvas that was all for him to paint on. A canvas that no one had ever touched. Or, in your world, a white lily that was associated with chastity and virtue. 

But then, there were also cons, and the foremost of it being you were too conservative for your own good. You grew up in a strict environment with uptight parents who wanted to control your life. He could never voice it out, but he really hated that you were square like your parents sometimes. You were too traditional and afraid to explore new experiences, oftentimes policing him for living his life as free as he wanted it to be. The ‘opposites attract’ thing did seem to work in your relationship at first, with your differences being exciting for each other, but as time went by, it became clearer to him that you two were too different to actually be in sync together. 

Hence why your relationship became rigid and suffocating, forcing him to take a breather by distancing himself from you for some time. He did this for your benefit, because he had to clear his head before risking losing you for good. He didn’t want to jeopardize a relationship that he knew meant the world to him. Perhaps this was just a phase, a challenging period following the honeymoon phase, where all your differences seemed to become more pronounced.

But to repeatedly make him look forward to sharing intimacy with you, only for you to back out at the very last minute? Man, was that so frustrating. 

It didn’t help that it was destiny itself that seemed to be stirring the pot. Because while you two were going through a rough time in your relationship, the irony presented itself outside of Sukuna’s tattoo shop late at night just as he was about to close. 

“Ryo?” A tall woman with athletic build, long dark hair, and beautiful doe eyes came into view with a wide smile on her face. 

His ex-girlfriend of three years. 

Sukuna held the door for her albeit the confusion in his eyes. “Yorozu?” 

The only difference he noticed was that she had become a lot sexier, with the curves on her body more womanly than ever. It was obvious that she was active in the gym to achieve such a fit physique. But other than that, her facial features were the same. Her heart eyes still shone bright at the mere sight of him, as if they carried stars and galaxies. 

“I think I came too late,” said Yorozu, smiling in disappointment, “I should probably just return tomorrow.” 

“No, you’re good.” Sukuna insisted on letting her enter his shop, closing the door as soon as she was inside. “What brought you here?” 

She stood confidently in front him, wearing nothing but a blank tank top and some loose white pants. “Funny story ‘cause I actually just moved to this city recently and I just found out you had a shop in this area.” 

Oh? That was interesting, indeed. Sukuna wondered how she even found his shop in that case, while he was leading her to the tattoo chair. “Are you here to get a tattoo or?” 

“Yeah, yeah I am.” She was sprinkling some charm in her grin. He knew her too well. “I think it’s amazing that I’m gonna get it from you again.”

While Yorozu was talking to him, he couldn’t help but ask: was it wrong for him to be in the same vicinity as his ex? Considering how jealous you could get, this was definitely wrong in your eyes. But as he wasn’t doing anything sketchy, he figured there was nothing wrong about what he was doing. Yorozu was technically a client and he couldn’t deny her his services since she was basically a friend of his, too. So, was he breaking any code here? 

“Well, only if you have time now, of course,” she added out of consideration, “It’s kinda late so I can always come back.” 

Sukuna shook his head and headed to get his book of tattoo art samples. “It’s fine. I got clients lined up all day tomorrow, so,” he said, placing the book on her lap, “You wanna check that or do you have a design in mind already?” 

Yorozu’s eyes fell on the tattoos marking Sukuna’s body, her gaze landing on every familiar inch as though she had seen them all the time before. It was true. She had seen more of him, actually. She had done more with his body, too. “I kinda wanna get a sleeve, but I want you to choose the design for me.” 

A tattoo sleeve? Damn. It was something he would never in a million years see from you, but for Yorozu, it was totally normal. She was as obsessed with ink as he was. And although she’s had a couple of tattoos in her body already, which were done by him, it would be her first time to get a full sleeve. 

“I get to choose, really?” Sukuna chuckled lightly. If he were to think of Yorozu’s traits, she was definitely a classic red rose. A seductress, alluring woman was how he saw her and the said flower would be a true-to-life representation of her personality. She was passionate when it came to loving someone, and was completely devoted to him back when they were together. The only reason they broke up was because they were too similar, as if she was his counterpart, and he saw fit to leave a relationship where they both constantly battled for dominance. Yorozu could get too aggressive on loving someone and he didn’t particularly like that. He made her understand why they weren’t working as a couple, and it took her some time, but she eventually accepted his decision. Now, you could say, they were somehow on good terms. “Alright, I’ll do your sleeve, but I’ll keep the design as a surprise.” 

Her eyes sparkled in excitement at the thought. “I’d love that!” 

“Since you want a sleeve, we’re gonna do some stencil application today.” Sukuna didn’t waste any more time in getting ready with his equipment, biting on the glove while wearing the other on his hand. “It’ll take fifteen to twenty hours to complete a sleeve, and each session could last two to six hours depending on your pain tolerance. My schedule’s actually full all day until next week, but you can come around the same time every night so I can finish yours.” 

“Yeah, I’m absolutely fine with that,” she enthused. For some reason, Yorozu was happy with the idea. The idea of coming to visit Sukuna every night in his shop. The idea that they get to be alone. The idea that they would be able to reconnect just like old times. Those were the things that Sukuna assumed was going through her head. 

And as he did start with his ‘client’, it was probably best to admit that the sexual tension was high. The room felt stuffy as the both of them remained there until midnight, with her sitting on the tattoo chair, and him doing her tattoo to her left. His eyes were intently focused on the intricate patterns he was doing on her arm, but also couldn’t avoid seeing the contours of her breasts since she was wearing such a thin tank top. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. He’d seen every part of her body from her neck down to her toes. He’d put her in every position from missionary to doggy. Goddamn, he could even remember how warm she felt around his cock. Didn’t she like it when he came inside her? Or when he made her swallow every drop of his seed? 

Sukuna cleared his throat, shaking his vulgar thoughts away as he continued with Yorozu’s arm. He may not be cheating, but thinking back on those intimate experiences with someone else other than his girlfriend was definitely not morally right either. But what sexual experience could he reminisce about with you? That ridiculously embarrassing night you two had shouldn’t even be counted since he was trying so hard to forget about it. 

He cleared his throat. Again. For the third time. “What, uh, what’ve you been up to?” 

Yorozu, who had no clue about his thoughts, turned her face to look at him happily. “Not much, actually. The bar I worked at closed down, but I got myself a new job in this club as a full time hostess and part-time promoter. You should come by. Drinks on me.” 

By not exactly accepting or refusing, Sukuna decided to just smile it off. “That’s why you moved to this city?” 

“Yeah, I mean… obviously, the rent here is higher, but it’s closer to my job. I get paid decently, too.” 

“That’s nice.” He was just trying to make small talk at this point. “Do you know your way ‘round here? How are you gonna get home?” 

She considered her options. “Probably a bus or something?” 

Sukuna paused, contemplating the situation. “There's no bus here at midnight,” he remarked, concerned for the girl who would have to navigate her way home alone at such a late hour. She was new to the area and clearly still adjusting to the commuter lifestyle. Unlike her, he had a vehicle that could safely transport her home. There would be no harm in offering, right? “Look, I have a bike and I usually take midnight rides, anyway. I can drop you off on my way home.”

“Really?” Her voice echoed excitement in them. “I’d appreciate it, Ryo. Thanks so much.” 

Life was ironic, truly. He didn’t see this situation coming because he never expected that he would even come across Yorozu ever again. They didn’t have any contact prior, but he still saw her on social media whenever he (on very rare occasions) decided to check his accounts. He never had her blocked, either, which was why you knew about Yorozu after snooping through his phone and reading through some of his old messages with her. Sukuna used to tell you not to worry about her, and that she was just his ex, and that she had nothing on you—which were all true, of course, but it was funny to him now that the woman his girlfriend was most threatened by was back in his life. 

And she was riding at the backseat of his motorbike, her arms latching at nothing else but around his torso. She was seated at the seat reserved for you, wearing the helmet that was bought for you, and holding onto a man that was rightfully yours. It all didn’t feel right. 

But because Yorozu delighted in his habit of speeding on the highway, he had somehow forgotten about the guilt that was forming in his heart. 

**

“You still have your ex’s Instagram?” Your questioning eyes met his defensive ones as he joined you in the living room, finding his space on the couch next to you. “I read your dms. Why haven’t you blocked her?” 

Sukuna’s breath remained steady. “Only toxic people do that shit.” 

“But I’m not comfortable with it!” you nagged, letting him snatch his phone from your grasp. 

“Do you see me talking to her still?” he asked, trying to be as patient as he could be, “Baby, I don’t even talk to her. I don’t think she’s active there, either.” 

You crossed your arms. “Then, block her?” 

“You’re being ridiculous.” 

“I’m being fair. You shouldn’t be keeping tabs with an ex.” 

“What are you—” Sukuna decided to cut his own sentence after realizing that the argument was plain stupid. “You know what, I’ll just delete my insta.” 

**

“How many times do you two do it?” you asked out of nowhere, sitting at the waiting area while he was closing his shop. “Your ex. How often do you have sex with her?” 

What kind of trap were you setting now? If he told you an honest answer, you would get mad. If he lied or even sugar coated it, you would also get mad. 

“Does it matter? Why do you keep asking questions about her and then get upset with me?” Sukuna’s frustration resonated in his sigh as he tidied the space where he tattooed his client a few minutes ago. “She’s an ex for a reason, so get over it.”

He was starting to get annoyed by your never-ending questions about his past experiences, but he knew you were simply coming from a place of no experience. You probably wanted to know what he liked in bed, what pleased him the most, what kept him from wanting more. Was that too much? No. Were you overdoing this entire thing? A little bit. 

“Why are you defensive?” you asked softly, still sitting on the couch as you watched him avoid your eyes. “You make me feel so insecure every time.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned around. “I don’t know, baby. If you’re feeling insecure, then do something about it.” 

**

“Thanks so much for the ride, Ryo.” 

Yorozu stood by her door, returning the helmet back to him while she kept her eyes locked on his. Her gaze was inviting, tempting him to give in and submit to his carnal desires. Any man would read her intentions the same way; Yorozu stared at him like that because she wanted to invite him to her place. She wanted him to spend the night and do unforgivable things. To remember the passionate exchange they once shared. 

But Sukuna wasn’t like that. No, he wasn’t a cheater. “I, uh, gotta get going.” 

“Oh…” Disappointment clouded Yorozu’s face. “Okay, then.” 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“...Alright.” 

“Okay.” 

“Wait!” Yorozu pulled his arm just as he was heading back to his motorbike. The sudden closeness in their proximity made his heart race fast. He knew what was coming. “I missed you, Ryo.” 

He knew what she was about to do next. 

And holy fuck did he guess right, as he was taken aback when Yorozu suddenly leaned in to press her lips onto his. Her soft, cherry lips moved desperately to taste his sweet kisses. 

But he didn’t return it. Instead, he immediately pushed her away. “Yorozu,” he spoke softly, “I have a girlfriend.” 

“You do?” She didn’t need to hide it. He could see the heartbreak on her face. 

“Yeah,” Sukuna confirmed, maintaining a more appropriate distance now. “We’ve been together for some time, and I live with her.”

Yorozu tried to maintain her facade of indifference, making it appear as though she was unfazed by his revelation. “That’s... That’s cool,” she said, “I’m sorry for, uh, the kiss.”

Sukuna nodded, “It’s fine. I should’ve told you sooner.”

“You’re alright,” she reassured him, “It's totally my fault. I hope she won’t be upset with you or something.”

Sukuna had no plans to tell you, knowing well the additional turmoil it would bring to your already strained relationship. However, he realized the importance of clarity in his intentions and the need to set boundaries. “We’re just friends. We’ll keep things civil. I’ll finish your tattoo in a couple more sessions, and then we’re done. Sounds fair?”

Yorozu nodded her head with a reluctant smile. “Fair enough.” 

— —

5 more days. Her sleeve required five more sessions, and days went by too fast for him to count. He had busied himself with his clients, while you had busied yourself with yours. He couldn’t even spend time with you because his shop took a chunk of his time from him, and even at home, things had become too awkward ever since your unspoken night. 

So, in some ways, Yorozu became his routine. She visited his shop for the past four nights and he had taken her home afterwards. She was in absolute love with her rose sleeve and they weren’t even complete yet. He still owed her one last session and told himself that it should also be the last time she should be around him. It wasn’t right and he didn’t want to create another source of argument with you. 

And in truth, he certainly felt a little guilty for spending more time with his ex than his own girlfriend. But did he purposely do it? No, it was fate that brought her to his door about a week ago. 

In spite of his stubbornness to admit his wrongdoing, he still ended up stopping by the flower market to get you a nice bouquet of white lilies. He knew you could make a prettier bouquet than that, but he thought it would be a perfect opportunity to surprise you with flowers that didn’t exactly come from you. Besides, he had some making up to do. 

Later that night, when he returned to your shared home, he found you sitting at the couch seemingly waiting for him to come home. The lights were dimmed and the television was turned off. For some reason, you were wearing outside clothes and had a somber expression on your face, too. That alone caused the loud thumping of his heart. 

“Hey,” he greeted, nonetheless, sitting next to you on the couch and kissing your cheek. “Everything okay, baby?” 

Your eyes carried sadness in them as you looked at him and searched for answers you couldn’t find. “Where were you?” 

Sukuna handed the bouquet over. “Got you flowers.” 

You didn’t accept them. Instead, every second seemed to torture you. “Where were you before that?” 

“In the shop…?” He didn’t know where to start, but he was definitely scared. “Why? Sorry I’ve been busy lately. I’ll make it up to you, angel.” 

“You close your shop at nine,” you pointed out, voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “Why do you always come home at two in the morning?” 

Fuck. Fuck! What should he say? Should he make an excuse for it? Should he say he’d been checking on Yuuji after his shifts? Should he say he’d been riding to other cities to clear his mind? He didn’t fucking know what to say, especially not when you were clearly on the verge of bursting out. 

“Answer me!” you cried, finally releasing the bottle out in the open. The tears that welled in your eyes now streamed ceaselessly down your face. “You’re an asshole. I-I hate you! I fucking… you think I don’t know? You think I’m too stupid to know?!”

Sukuna calmly received the fists you had swung on his chest as he tried to grab ahold of your arms. “Baby, I’ll explain everything.” 

“No, damn y-you!” The tremor in your voice squeezed his heart in the most painful way because he hated seeing you breaking down in front of him and over him. This wasn’t the first time he had made you cry, but this was the first time he had seen you actually sob like this. “I-I gave myself to you! I left my p-parents for you! And this is what you do to me? You’re cheating on me with your ex?!” 

He was desperate to hold you, hug you, cage you in his arms. He wanted to take your pain away. Wipe your tears away. However, you didn’t allow him to touch even a strand on your hair as you kept on pushing him off. Sukuna felt like he was going to lose his mind. “Baby, listen to me please. It’s really not what you think—”

“I don’t care!” you spat, moving away to wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t fucking care! You sleeping with her or not doesn’t change a thing. Don’t you get it? I’ll never be enough for you!” Despite your loud voice, the cracks in her facade only revealed your longing for validation and acceptance, etching into every tear-stained moment you two had shared over the course of your relationship. He watched you, paralyzed by the sight of you breaking down, as you grabbed a luggage you had been hiding behind the couch as if you were ready to leave. “I’ll never be the person you want me to be and staying with you will always remind me of it!” 

“No, no, no… Let’s talk.” Sukuna had to suppress his own tears while he tried to reach out for you. “Baby, please. I don’t feel anything for her, or anyone. It’s just you. You are enough for me, baby. I’m sorry, please.” 

You, on the other hand, were adamant at your decision. “I can’t stand what you’re doing to me anymore. I don’t like how you make me feel about myself. I hate how you make me question my own choices!” Tears continued to flow, and your voice wavered, transitioning from anger to a more subdued, pained tone. “I hate… I hate that I love you so much, that I lost all my backbone just to make you happy.” 

“You don’t need to.” He was feeling more and more miserable now, his heart sore from all the emotions he had seen from you. “Y/N, you don’t need to. I’m sorry, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”  

…

…

…

“It’s over, Sukuna,” were the last words he could recall hearing before passing out drunk in his bed that afternoon. “We’re done.”

— —

It was your first heartbreak. Your first actual relationship. Your first everything. Surely, people shouldn’t expect you to move on easily, especially not when the subject of your heartache worked across the street from you. 

You were a mess. You had cried enough tears after you moved out of his apartment that night, screamed your heart out as you suffered from the pain of loneliness once more. You couldn’t even bear the thought of returning to your parents and hearing them say they told you so, because loving Sukuna was a choice you thought was good for you. 

In the end, he was just a poison without any antidote. A toxin without remedy. The most effective solution was to sever all ties to prevent further contamination.

But strangely enough, you hadn’t seen him in his shop ever since that night, either. The tattoo parlor remained closed for more than two weeks without any notice. While a small part of you worried for him, a bigger part of you cared for yourself. He no longer held any importance to your life, and you should let it remain that way. 

What you should focus on, instead, was living your life without any trace of him. A life of independence, away from the toxicity of a manipulative man who constantly made you doubt yourself and what you offered. As they say, you have to learn to love yourself first before you can fully learn to love others. 

And in your journey of knowing the truth of that saying, a certain white-haired man entered your floral shop on a somber Friday afternoon just as you were arranging preordered bouquets for multiple customers to pick up. 

“Hey,” you greeted the man, surprised at his sudden appearance at your shop. 

Satoru grinned as he approached you closer. “I’m here to pick up two bouquets.”

“Oh, it was your order?” Your eyes widened. Silly you. Of course, Suguru would order on his friend’s behalf. He wouldn’t even get his girlfriend some flowers, let alone his mother. So this being Satoru’s order made much more sense. “Okay, you got a bouquet of blush peonies and another bouquet of pink tulips, am I correct?”

He smiled handsomely, displaying his set of perfect white teeth while listening to you talk. “Correct.” 

“For your mom?” you asked before you made your way to pick up the bouquets, handing them to him carefully. 

His response came with a soft, affirmative hum. “Mhm. One for her,” he said, taking only the bouquet of tulips, “The other is for you.” 

Oh, no, no, definitely no. You had seen this before and it didn’t go well. 

“That’s lovely, but…” You offered a smile. “I’m not taking those peonies.” 

Satoru acted innocent, his vibrant blue eyes coruscating under the ambient lights. “But it’s mother’s day.” 

You playfully shook your head. “I’m not even a mother.”

“Yes, you are,” he went on teasing, “the mother of my future kids. I like to think in advance, you know.” 

Honestly? This man started off with a bad impression on you, but he wasn’t actually so bad. He was an easygoing, happy-go-lucky person who carried positive energy around him. That, and he was decent, too. He was the type of guy your parents would have surely approved of. He was a degree holder like you, even pursuing graduate studies to run a business that was already generating an income that you could only imagine of getting. He was set for life with no uncertainty with what he wanted for his future. 

“Satoru?”

He met your gaze. “Yeah?”

“About your offer last time,” you recalled, recalling his earlier jest about teaching you some things in bed, “I think I'd like to take you up on that.”

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

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“How are you settling in?” 

“Fine.” You shrug. 

“Any instinct to nest at all?” 

You shake your head. “No.” 

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?” 

You shake your head again. “No.” 

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?” 

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.” 

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?” 

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over. 

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve. 

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?” 

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you. 

To go back in time and never present as an omega. 

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” 

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze. 

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?” 

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you. 

You just have to ask. 

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you. 

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow? 

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?” 

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it. 

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...” 

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you. 

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.” 

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see? 

How many scars do they have inside, too? 

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.” 

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier. 

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.” 

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you? 

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.  

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents. 

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller. 

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.” 

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping. 

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast. 

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind. 

A nightlight. 

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for. 

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day. 

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he? 

You don’t know that. 

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega. 

You’re a good omega. 

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually. 

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway. 

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips. 

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you. 

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest. 

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack. 

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself. 

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him. 

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base. 

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing. 

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know. 

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you. 

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England? 

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous. 

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you. 

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness. 

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then. 

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush. 

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?” 

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.” 

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.” 

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.” 

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes. 

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?” 

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.” 

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark. 

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now. 

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions. 

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.” 

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.” 

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.” 

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.” 

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.” 

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment. 

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long. 

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water. 

“Quite a ways.” He answers. 

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack. 

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice. 

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat. 

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours. 

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you. 

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top. 

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.” 

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat. 

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to. 

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor. 

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him. 

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s. 

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water. 

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below. 

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here. 

“A training exercise.” He says finally. 

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it? 

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.” 

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?” 

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.” 

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench. 

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.” 

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity. 

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch. 

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.” 

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.” 

Your frown deepens. “But-” 

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.” 

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that. 

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds. 

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin. 

They’re not from the cold either. 

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while. 

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence. 

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?” 

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.” 

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area. 

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.” 

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him. 

He probably knows you already have. 

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him. 

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets. 

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment. 

He could have had worse ones, you always thought. 

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness. 

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck... 

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart. 

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you. 

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about. 

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?” 

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas. 

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.” 

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out. 

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?” 

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.” 

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action. 

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-” 

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.” 

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha. 

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly. 

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.” 

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.” 

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.” 

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion. 

You want to kneel for him. 

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase. 

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin. 

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days. 

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.” 

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?” 

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin. 

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.” 

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks. 

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout. 

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.” 

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base. 

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.” 

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style. 

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you. 

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs. 

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep. 

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.” 

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.” 

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair. 

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing. 

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?” 

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder. 

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental. 

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet. 

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.” 

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek. 

“Stubborn little omega.” 

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally. 

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again. 

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions. 

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door. 

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp. 

You know what they’re going to think. 

The stares you’ll get. 

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you. 

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy. 

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.” 

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room. 

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.” 

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend. 

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need. 

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you. 

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare. 

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.” 

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way. 

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger. 

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him. 

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.” 

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.” 

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess. 

“What do you want?” 

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer. 

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation. 

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out, 

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you. 

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega. 

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once. 

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” 

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again. 

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit. 

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything. 

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you. 

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it? 

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you. 

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent. 

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks. 

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well. 

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.” 

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins. 

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-” 

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket. 

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists. 

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch. 

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside. 

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.” 

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your  body looking in. 

“Probably not.” Ghost says. 

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.” 

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there. 

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax. 

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it. 

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?” 

“Very high.” He answers. 

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.” 

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains. 

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit. 

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand. 

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.” 

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again. 

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind? 

“Teach me to fight.” 

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years. 

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring. 

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha? 

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence. 

Monday. Early. 

You’ll be ready. 

NEXT ->

Taglist Part 1:

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[lisenberry]

Feral Friday 141 Thoughts     

NSFW/MDNI/18+    

When you really need to ride him...

...He’s sitting on the couch, watching the day’s match.  Knees spread wide and taking up half the cushions.  You’re cuddled under his arm with your feet tucked up, reading a book or a download on your phone.  It’s in the middle of a steamy scene in your latest bodice-ripper.  After chapters’ worth of fighting and resisting, the heroine is finally going to come all over the big mean villain’s engorged appendage.  

You’re so engrossed, you’re sure he can feel your breath change and your cheek heat up where it rests against his chest.  Can he sense your arousal as it dampens your knickers underneath the old, softened t-shirt you claimed from his bedroom floor the first time you slept over?

When the whistle sounds to end the half, you vaguely notice, until he stirs next to you. “Hey, babe?  We got any snacks?”

“Umm, I th-think so.”  You pull your attention away just in time to meet his eyes.  And he immediately knows. 

“Got yourself a good one there, do you?”  You’ve bitten your lips raw, you’re sweating, and your chest is nearly heaving with lust as you nod desperately.

“Do you mind if I take the edge off?”  You squeeze your thighs together and feel the slick dripping past the fabric.

“Your finger or mine?” he asks, keeping one eye on the telly and one on you as your maneuver out of your underwear.

“I’m going to need something a bit more this time,” you nearly whine as you launch onto his lap, careful not to headbutt his chin in your urgency.

GAZ – He doesn't miss a beat as you nestle your excited little pussy just over his cock.  He’s already rock-hard and it doesn’t take much to pull him out from the sweatpants he wears slung low on his hips.

“Take what you need, love.”  He smiles proudly as you drop down onto him, slipping and sliding on your own slick. 

And you do, pitching forward to settle him against the bundle of nerves deep in your belly.   He’s so long, he doesn’t just graze it, he impales it.  You swear he’s in your lungs, stealing your breath with each rise and fall.

He cheers you on the whole way. 

“Look at you bouncing so well on my cock...So pretty all flushed and sweaty...Fucking hot, you are.”

Your unfairly handsome, quick-tongued rake tenderly wipes the hair and perspiration from your face, and lets you use him until you're shattered and worn out. 

SOAP:  He lets you grind against him for a bit through his gym shorts, dick fully chubbed like the pommel of a saddle. 

“Please tell me it’s a Scottish highland warrior that’s got you so bothered, and not some prissy English lord.  You’ll hurt my feelings.”  He grins, his eyes already rolling back in his head at your steady stroking.

“Keep talking, Johnny.”  You hump against him faster, knowing the second you put him in, you’ll be done for.  A weeping, overstimulated mess before he even catches his stride.  His burly, veiny length has an upwards curve like he was molded and kiln-forged just to fit you. 

And he could go for hours if you didn’t wind him up good.  Tease him and test him, get his attention exactly where it needs to be.

“Let me suck on your tits, bonny lass.”  He deepens his brogue and his voice an octave as he tries not to laugh, while he strips your shirt off and buries his face into your bosom.

You are quite sure that the hot-headed highland scoundrel in your story didn’t use the word ‘tits’, but you let it slide.  The one between your thighs is everything you need, and more.

GHOST – He’s wearing jeans, so it’s a bit harder to get him free.  After you let out a frustrated huff at the complexity of his wardrobe, he cups you under your ass and stands you both up.  Undoing his belt buckle and the fly one-handed before setting you back down astride him again.

“Needy little dove today.”

“Just let me try, Si.”  You rarely ever ride him.  The few times you’ve attempted it, you give up when your thighs turn to mush and your cunt aches from being split in two.  He’s just too thick for a quickie.

“Are you going to let me help this time, or are you going to be stubborn?”

“Help!”  The strangled sound escapes your throat as you fit him in to the hilt.  He takes up so much space, you can’t tell where you end and he begins. 

“You’re fucking soaked.”  He rolls his hips to stretch you further, to find the right spot, as your slick trickles down to coat his balls.  You feel them wet and sticky against your seam.

“Mmmh-uhhh, that’s it.  Right there,” you bellow gratefully to the ceiling.

“What are you going to do about it?”  He grabs your hips rudely, fingers pressing to dimple the skin and hold you down as he spears your nerves like a spike.

You fight against his hold, knowing that’s what he's looking for.  Just a little fire in your belly, a little steel in your spine and your merciless, battle-scarred rogue will give you anything you want.

“That’s it, dovey.  Fuck me good.”

PRICE – He’s watching you with awe, wide-eyed and slack jawed, so immersed in the act of being milked by your warm, soft walls that he’s relinquished control completely.  You know that look too well.

“Do not come yet, John.  Please.  Think of bullets.  Hollow points and grenades.  A...ummm, a panzer!”  You’re almost there.  So...close your mind is just pulling words from memories of past conversations you were only barely listening to.

“A panzer?  Like the bloody old German tank?” he asks with the sort of clarity of mind you need of him in this situation.

“Yes, keep thinking of dusty relics rotting in museums.  While I ride your big, beautiful cock—”

“You’ve done it now.”  He groans, and you feel him stiffen inside you.  The sensation of it, coupled with the hot spurts of his spend hitting your most sensitive spot, get you there just in time to join him.

You don’t even mind that it was so quick.  It warms your heart, and your cunt, that the callous, domineering war hero falls to pieces so completely for no one but you.

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | ONE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot  ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.

That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”

“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.

Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.

A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.

“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”

He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.

“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.

“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”

“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.

“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.

“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”

You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”

“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”

“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”

When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.

From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.

He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.

  [Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]

When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.

You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.

“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.

He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.

“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.

“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”

Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.

Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”

Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.

“You ready?”

“Absolutely,” you puff out.

“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.

“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.

Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.

“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.

“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.

Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.

“I was just asking, Jesus.”

Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”

“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.

“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”

“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”

Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”

San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.

It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.

You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.

“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.

Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.

His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”

“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”

Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.

“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.

With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.

“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”

“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”

Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.

“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”

You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.

“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”

He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.

After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”

“Of course!”

When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.

On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.

“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.

“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”

“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.

“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”

The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–

“_____?”

You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.

“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”

“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.

Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.

“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”

“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”

Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”

You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”

“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.

“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”

Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”  

Not tonight.

You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.

“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”

While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.

When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.

“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.

“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”

That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.

“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”

“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.

  “We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”  

Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.

But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”

That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”

To which he never declines, naturally.

Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.

“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”

A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”

He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.

“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”

He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in crimson as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.

“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.

“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.

You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.

“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.

“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.

“You don’t even know the price of it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”

“Yunho…”

“Don’t even give me that, ____.”

The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.

When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.

As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.

“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.

“I can get you an Uber if—”

“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”

That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.

Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.

Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.

“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.

While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.

“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.

He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”

“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”

Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.

Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.

Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—

He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.

Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.

“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”

Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.

“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.

He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”

“You’re fine, no worries.”

It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.

“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”

You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”

There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.

“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”

Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.

“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”

Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…

After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.

But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.

“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”

When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.

“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.

“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”

“Neither am I.”

At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.

“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.

“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.

“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”

Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”

In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.

“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”

Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.

You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”

Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.

“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.

You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.

“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”

Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.

It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.

It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.

It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.

“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.

“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.

The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.

“Take yours off too?”

Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.

“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.

Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.

His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.

“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.

“You know what I mean.”

Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”

Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.

“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.

He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.

“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”

Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.

He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.

“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”

Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.

The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.  

“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”

When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.

“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.

“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”

“So fucking good.”

Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.

He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”

“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”

You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.

“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”

You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.

Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.

Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.

He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.

Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?

Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?

Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?

All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.

He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.

He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.

  [Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]

Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.

Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.

  [Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]

To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.

  [Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]

He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.

  [Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]

Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.

Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.

At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.

You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.

On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.

“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.

To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.

“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.

“Don’t.”

“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”

You employ a small pout to boot.

“And you think I believe that?”

“I think you should believe it.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!

“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.

You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.

Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.

“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”

He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.

“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”

You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”

“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”

Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?

“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”

“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.

“A mistake?”

“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”

You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”

“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.

“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”

When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.

Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.

“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”

“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.

“Boo, why can I never know anything–”

“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”

“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.

Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.

A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.

“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”

“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”

“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”

“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”

Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”

You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.

“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.

You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.

“That was quick,” you giggle.

“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.

  Fuck.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”

“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.

You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”

“Just give me five minutes, please.”

You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.

“Spit it out already, Yunho.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.

Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”

“Thought it was a mistake–”

“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”

“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”

There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.

“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”

You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:

“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”

“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”

“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”

“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”

You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.

♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr

[yelenasbraid]

slip of the finger — joe burrow

summary — you and joe are recently married, and he swears he’s never taking off his wedding band. that sentiment stays until he loses it on the field during a game.

warnings — fem!reader, fluff, some suggestive comments, implied smut

requested by — anon <3

BEING NEWLYWEDS WAS EXCITING. the bliss, the laughs, and the memories that were wrapped up in a beautiful bow. beginning a new chapter with the man you loved was such a privilege, and one you couldn’t wait to live to the fullest.

you and joe laid in bed, the soft duvet covering your bodies as your hands were held up in front of you. it was so surreal to you that you married your college sweetheart, that you were married. you watched the diamond sparkled underneath the warm lighting, how joe’s ring perfectly accented yours on his finger.

“i can’t believe we’re married,” you whispered, watching joe grab your hand and press it to his lips.

“i can,” he hummed, shifting onto his side, “i’ve always wanted to marry you,” he added, a lovesick look in his eyes. he admired you, the way your skin glowed in the warm lighting, the way your eyes sparkled with the love you had for him.

his words sent warmth down to your toes, your mouth pulling into a smile. you shifted onto your side, keeping the cover over your naked body. being married had many perks, including enjoying your husband. his hand reached forwards, caressing your cheek. he was so in love with you, with every part of you. his eyes flicked over your face and your exposed collarbone. he could see the marks he made just a few moments ago.

joe leaned over, his hand sliding across your skin to cup the back of your neck. he pressed his lips softly to yours, rolling so he was on top of you. your hands looped around his neck as his lips met yours. you smiled into the kiss, your cheeks rosy and warm. joe pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, his hair tickling your skin.

“i love you,” he hummed, kissing you softly again.

“i love you,” you agreed into the kiss. he hummed, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. he pulled away and sat up, running his hands down his face. while he always enjoyed moments like this and he wished he could stay like that forever, he couldn’t. it was game day.

“what time do you need to leave?” you asked him as he got out of bed. he slipped on his boxers as he disappeared into your walk in closet. it was an away game, so joe needed to be at the airport a whole day before the game. you wished it was different, but you’ve lived and loved this life for several years. you were used to it.

“in like,” there was a pause, “15 minutes,” he finished as he gathered his game day outfit. he tossed a shirt over his head and tugged black cargo pants over his hips.

“we really passed the time, huh?” you laughed, pushing your hair out of your face. you watched joe emerge from his closet, dressed in something comfy yet stylish for his flight.

“we did, didn’t we?” he smirked as he walked over, kissing you sweetly on the lips. you smiled, stretching your taut limbs under the duvet. you saw the wedding band on his finger, snug as could be.

“please don’t wear that on the field,” you begged, watching as he packed a bag.

“i won’t lose it, i’ll keep it safe,” joe assured you, zipping up his bag.

“you better, can’t have someone thinking you’re not married,” you commented, watching him smirk and scoff.

“with those marks i just gave you, i don’t think that’s possible,” he flirted, grabbing his bag and giving you a look. damn you, joe burrow.

“uh huh, ok player,” you joked as he kissed you again. he always hated leaving you; marriage hasn’t made it any easier. in fact, it’s made it ten times harder.

“i love you,” he called as he exited the bedroom.

“i love you! be safe!” you reminded him. you weren’t able to make it to the game, but you’d watch. you always watched.

—

it was finally game day, and you were curled up on your couch. you invited robin and jim over, as well as some of the other WAGs to watch the game. charcuterie boards were on the coffee table, half eaten as the game closed out the third quarter.

the bengals were up, and watching joe’s expression loose and relaxed kept you in good spirits. you hated watching tight games; you could see the stress lines on his face. you stood up, walking into the kitchen with an empty wine glass. you unscrewed the cap of the bottle, pouring out the red liquid into your cup.

“what happened to his finger?” robin asked, diverting your attention from your glass to the screen. you watched as joe showed ja’marr his ring finger, his left ring finger.

without the ring.

“joseph lee burrow,” you tsked, shaking your head and pursing your lips. what did you tell him a couple of days ago? you walked back over, taking a seat back on the couch, careful not to slosh your wine too much. robin looked over at you, a grin blossoming on her face.

“you told him to take it off, didn’t you,” robin stated. she knew you asked him to, but robin also knew another thing: joe hated taking it off. he loved showing people he was married, and that he was married to you. it wasn’t just a ring to him, it was a symbol of commitment and undying love.

“i did,” you confirmed, not being able to hold back a laugh as you sipped your wine. you knew he was stressed, you could see it on his face. everyone could see it. joe was frantically moving his hands, gesturing on the field where he thinks he lost it.

“she told me to take it off,” joe told ja’marr, running his hands through his hair. the two of them were walking the field, trying to see if the sun would reflect just right and reveal joe’s lost ring.

“and this is why we listen to our wives,” ja’marr clapped him on the shoulder, earning a scowl from joe. it didn’t last long though.

“she’s probably watching the game right now, and i’m gonna be in big trouble when i get home,” joe’s eyes scanned the field, flicking up every now and then to check how much time was left on the timeout clock. he didn’t have that much time.

“maybe she got up and got a snack,” andrei stepped beside them, offering his two cents.

“nah, she wouldn’t. she’s got her snacks right there with her. i bet she saw the whole thing,” ja’marr laughed, causing joe’s cheeks to turn pink. they didn’t have much more time before the next and final quarter was to start.

“burrow!” trey hendrickson came running over, holding the illusive gold band that would be joe’s wedding ring.

“oh thank God,” joe exhaled as he grabbed the ring from trey, “she would’ve not been happy,” joe chuckled. he handed it to one of the staffers, not risking it. he couldn’t lose it a second time.

“get a silicone one,” trey suggested, “those suckers don’t ever come off,”

“noted,” joe chuckled.

—

joe walked into the presser, wearing a t-shirt and his seinfeld sweats. he sat down, his wedding ring adorning his finger. he situated himself, preparing for all the questions about the fiasco on the field.

“find your ring?” one of the reporters asked, making joe awkwardly chuckle.

“yeah, yeah i did. thankfully,” he answered.

“did your wife see it?” another reporter asked.

“knowing her, probably. i’m not that lucky,” he joked. he nervously spun the ring around his finger, answering the other questions of the reporters. he couldn’t wait to make it home to you, settling in to your arms and hearing you tease him about losing his ring.

the press conference ended, and joe joined up with the other members of his team. as he did so, his phone vibrated in his pocket. he pulled out his phone, smiling as he answered the call.

“i know i know, i should have listened to you,” he smiled, walking a ways from the boys.

“it was kinda funny,” you admitted on the other end of the phone.

“how so?”

“seeing you scramble for your ring was entertaining,” you added. he could hear the smile on your words. he laughed, shaking his head.

“i bet it was,” he agreed.

“i ordered you a silicone one, so maybe this time you don’t lose it,” you teased.

“you didn’t have to do that,”

“what can i say, it’s a small treat for winning your game today,” you smiled, picking up the remnants of the small gathering you had. the girls and joe’s parents left a few minutes ago, leaving you alone in the house. it was nice, but you also wanted joe to hurry on back.

“you know what would also be a nice little treat?” he asked you, giving a glance around to make sure no one was listening.

“what?”

“that lingerie set you have, and you in it,” he suggested in a low voice, which he did for privacy purposes, but on your end it just turned you on.

“oh really now?”

“i think it’s the perfect little treat,” he smirked.

“i bet you do,” you laughed. you put the final things away before padding upstairs. “you said the black one, right?”

“you have multiple?”

“oh sweet joey,” you mused, opening one of your dresser drawers, “a girl always has multiple sets of lingerie,” it was your turn for your voice to go deep, driving joe wild.

there was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone.

“pick your favorite, but just so you know, i’m seeing you in all of them this week,” he warned you. you were still caught up on the fact he didn’t know about your multiple sets.

“one a night, huh?”

“you said it, not me,”

“whatever, burrow. just get home,” you laughed, pulling out a red lingerie set, “and do not lose your ring between there and home please,”

“i won’t! i promise,” he hummed. you bid your farewells, hanging up the phone. joe stood there for a minute, letting himself calm down. he didn’t know how long it would last; the thought of you surprising him in an unseen lingerie set was not boding well for him. he didn’t want to have a boner the whole flight home.

you, on the other hand, slipped out of your comfy clothes and readied for a shower. the thought of surprising joe in your lingerie set excited you, and you couldn’t wait for joe to get home, to remind him exactly why he’s got that wedding ring on his finger.

eeekk!!! this took me way longer than i liked but it’s cute!! newlywed joey is an absolute cutie. hope you enjoyed anon and so sorry for the delay!

tags: @wickedfun9 @joeyfranchise

[fastandcarlos]

Stuck With Me : ̗̀➛ Jack Doohan

summary: as jack signs his contract with alpine, you soon realise that actually you’re pretty happy to be stuck with him on the team for a little while longer

pairing: jack x f1academy!reader

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by olliebearman, pierregasly and 179,503 others

jackdoohan: always fun spending race weekend in the garage and learning, thank you as always alpine for having me, plenty learnt to take with me moving forwards 🏎️💙

27,052 comments

username1: I wish it was you we got to see in that car instead 😭

estebanocon: awesome to see you, good luck for the rest of the season ☺️

username2: buzzing to see you back in the garage again jack!!

liam.lawson: sweet talk them some more and you might just get a seat 😉

jackdoohan: @/liam.lawson saw right through me huh 😂

username3: wishing that alpine saw how talented you really are and signed you up 💔

ynusername: nice to see you, and maybe show you a thing or two too 😂

jackdoohan: @/ynusername I’m always learning from you 😊

username4: alpine are so damn lucky to have you 🥺

username5: not long until you’ll be behind the wheel jack 🤞🏻

pierregasly: thanks for all your help on the car this weekend!

username6: please make sure you’re at the rest of the races this year, you’re my favourite face on the screen

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by estebanocon, racerbia and 36,068 others

ynusername: another race, another win!! so proud to have got the win here in zandvoort and get plenty of momentum behind me moving forwards as we look to finish off the season strong 💪🏻🏆

4,947 comments

username7: you were amazing out there today 👏🏻

racerbia: can you save some race wins for the rest of us??? 😘

username8: so proud of you yn, controlled that race from start to finish!!

jackdoohan: who knew you were so talented 🤯

ynusername: @/jackdoohan my parents always believed in me thank you very much 😭

username9: formula 1 academy world title pending…⏳

pierregasly: good job out there, glad I got to watch you race again ☺️

username10: can’t believe I finally got to watch you race today, you were electric ⚡️

dorianepin: congrats yn, I’ll get ya next time 😂

username11: you never fail to make your fans so proud 🥺

olliebearman: that race was awesome, you gotta show me how you handled turn 2 like that for next year!!

ynusername: @/olliebearman gimme a time and date and I’m there 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by liam.lawson, oscarpiastri and 58,401 others

jackdoohan: a week off means getting plenty of recovery in and getting back of the waves. amazing to spend it with my favourite person too 🫶🏻

7,052 comments

username12: I’m sorry since when were you a taken man???

oscarpiastri: I’m just going to pretend that middle photo doesn’t exist 😭

username13: you can’t just throw something like this at us jack wtf!

arthur_leclerc: I thought I was the only lover in your life 😭

jackdoohan: @/arthur_leclerc you’re my one true love, this is just a fling bby

username14: you mean to say our fictional relationship can’t come true now 😭

liam.lawson: there’s a whole chapter we seem to have missed out here my friend…

jackdoohan: @/liam.lawson I’ll fill you in at the paddock 😘

username15: have I ever told you how much I hate soft launchers!?

danielricciardo: proud of ya kiddo 😉😉

username16: I want to say congrats but inside my heart is breaking 💔

ynusername: that’s some pretty cool waves you’ve got yourself there 🏖️

jackdoohan: @/ynusername waves aren’t the only thing I’m riding this holiday 🙃

username17: not me more focused on how incredible that body looks in a swimsuit 😂

kimi.antonelli: are we just going to pretend that this middle photo doesn’t exist??

username18: as long as you’re happy jack, most of us fan girls are happy for you too 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, ynusername and 73,038 others

jackdoohan: such a proud day for me and my family to share that i have officially signed to drive with the alpine f1 team next year. thank you to my team, family and friends for constantly supporting me through the years 🏎️💙

16,968 comments

olliebearman: can’t wait to enter my rookie era with you 😘

jackdoohan: @/olliebearman wouldn’t have it any other way sweetie 😘

username19: there’s never been anyone more deserving of a contract than you!

pierregasly: can’t wait to drive alongside you next year - it’s gonna be awesome!!

username20: can’t wait to see you out on the grid next year 🤩

oscarpiastri: congratulations future formula 1 driver 🤝

username21: you and pierre are gonna be the dream team i can already tell 🤩

ynusername: congratulations ✨ can’t wait to have you officially as part of the team!

jackdoohan: @/ynusername guess you’re officially stuck with me now 😂

username22: can’t wait to be your biggest fan for all the races next year 🥹

username23: future world champion for sure!!!

danielricciardo: another aussie on the grid 🇦🇺🦘

username24: we’re all so proud of you jack, you’re gonna smash it 💪🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by dorianepin, jackdoohan and 23,950 others

ynusername: end of the season and new adventures on their way. looking forward to the next four weeks with my favourite human being 🥺

7,403 comments

username25: wait since when has this been a thing!? 🤯

racerbia: really out here living your best life ain’t ya? 👑

username26: have i woken up from sort of dream to see this 🤔

jackdoohan: what sorta boyfriend would take you out on a zip line like that? 🤔

ynusername: @/jackdoohan definitely one cooler than you 💆🏻‍♀️

jackdoohan: @/ynusername good job I’ve got my own girlfriend to explore with then 🥺

username27: so glad to see you enjoying your break so good yn 🥺

username28: what is it with drivers and teasing us about their partners 😭

landonorris: since you won the championship you’ve really gone for that aesthetic blog look eh!? 👏🏻

username29: as impressive as that last photo is, my eyes can’t look away from the middle 👀

hausmann.tina: idk what your secrets are but I need to know them asap 😂

username30: favourite human…who is this favourite human you speak of???

pierregasly: please do not break a bone on holiday or alpine will lose their minds 😁

username31: all I want is to know who the lucky guy is…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 22,859 others

ynusername: starting off the season strong with pierre, whenever you fancy showing your face around here @/jackdoohan that would be lovely 😂

4,859 comments

username32: not jack already being thrown under the bus by his fellow drivers 😂

olliebearman: nothing like impressing the bosses on the first day jack 🤦🏻‍♂️

username33: anyone else think jack and yn seem to be suspiciously close to each other 🤔

pierregasly: at least I can rely on you to be on time yn 😂

ynusername: @/pierregasly 🫡🫡🫡

username34: why do I get the feeling pierre and yn are gonna gang up on jack this year 😂

kimi.antonelli: you get used to his poor time keeping I promise you yn ⏳

username35: it really is pick on the rookie season rn!

jackdoohan: some of us wanted to take the time to make sure we look presentable rather than like we just rolled out of bed ☺️

ynusername: @/jackdoohan that’s a harsh thing to say about pierre 😂

username36: I am OBSESSED with the interactions between these two!!!

username37: you know when someone pretends to be mean to distract from something…I wonder 🤔

estebanocon: sure you’re not missing me yet???

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 59,301 others

ynusername: i guess i can’t keep him a secret forever 🥺💞

12,067 comments

username38: how did no one actually figure this out 🤦🏻‍♀️

olliebearman: at least I don’t need to ask you how your summer break was anymore…

pierregasly: everyone please pray for me having to work alongside these two 🙏🏻

username39: okay but it’s undeniable that these two look incredible together

jackdoohan: I loved being your little secret, but I love being your boyfriend to the whole world more 💕

username40: I thought they hated each other, turns out they love each other 😂

dorianepin: breathing through the pain of knowing you didn’t tell me about this 💔

ynusername: @/dorianepin I’m sorry just didn’t want to risk anything 🥹

liam.lawson: thank god I don’t don’t have to keep my mouth shut anymore 🤐

username41: they really managed to fool us all…

oscarpiastri: wow you two did not hang around did you 😂

username42: imagine having to be the poor head of pr at alpine right now 😬

danielricciardo: ik I joked that f1 was good for the ladies jack but this isn’t what I expected 😂

jackdoohan: @/danielricciardo what can I say, when you know, you know 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 97,402 others

jackdoohan: an f1 contract wasn’t the only prize I managed to bag myself last season ❤️🌊

24,958 comments

username43: not jack coming at us with the cheesiest caption known to man 😂

arthur_leclerc: I don’t even recognise you anymore 😂

ynusername: turns out you signing for alpine was a pretty cool moment for both of us 🥺

username44: damn he really is a man in love!

username45: already obsessed with this duo and what they’re gonna do on the track this year

pierregasly: fyi there’s a clause in your contract that bans pda in the paddock (definitely didn’t just make this up!)

username46: we need a ship name asap 🛳️

landonorris: the real question though is which prize was better? 😉

jackdoohan: @/landonorris you don’t even need to ask 💕💕

username47: how did none of the grid manage to figure this out!?

username48: this is certainly one way to make sure everyone knows your name 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[candysunoo]

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung as a

Bridgerton story ❀❀ ◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦dearest gentle-reader ◦ೋ•

❀my name is lady whistledown. you do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall. but be forewarned dear reader, I certainly know you.❀

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung x F!reader - Queen Charlotte ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: unedited with run on sentences, strangers - to kind of friends- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s societal expectations, arranged/ forced marriage, bitchy mother-in-law, mentions of parental death, mentions of mental health ( mainly illusions to bipolar disorder and hallucinations ) and feeling like an outsider, medical malpractice, mention of feeling unloved and trapped in a marriage, SMUT, sex (like 2 scenes + illusions to more ), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), loss of virginity, slight breeding kink , praise, body worship, fingering, mention of pregnancy and birth, angst and fluff, idiots in love, ❀❀◦ೋ• lmk if i forgot anything

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: 11.8k ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀ story starts under the cut! please enjoy! - Kei ❀

❀ also i deeply apologize for acidently setting the release date on auto post wring plz forgive me. Also i will be releasing a message to the rude anons i got because there is a certain way to conduct yourself and that was not it 💕 regardless please enjoy and ignore my awful formatting 😭- kei ❀

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to enha bridgerton au masterlist ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to total masterlist ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

Today felt different. The air around you felt stiff, and it seemed as if all the staff’s eyes had lingered on you for too long. Their eyes filled with pity.  Looks that you knew all too well. After your parents had passes away those looks were all you got for the longest time. Pity for the beloved daughter of the king and queen. A young princess of ten and two. A princess made to rely on her older brother, of only ten and five, a young man who now was taking over the throne as the head of the country. Your country was small, a speck of dust in the seemingly never-ending universe of other counties. Compared to the massive land-locked nations around you, your island was quaint and for the most part rather peaceful and not to mention almost two months’ boat journey away from any other country. You loved your country and took great pride in being its princess, going to charity events and doing all that you could with what little power was given to you. Nevertheless, things couldn’t stay peaceful for long. As you neared your twentieth birthday it seemed as if your quiet little country had gained attention that you never thought it would. People from neighboring nations had made their way over and found joy in the culture and life your country provides. Some a little too much. Your brother, however, had told you not to worry as it was beyond you, and you shouldn’t have concerned yourself with it. So, as much as you despised leaving it be you did, as your trust in your brother outweighed that of anything else.

As you walked down the cream and white hallways of the palace, decorated with paintings of people you hardly knew and busts of people long passed, you heard your brother speaking quietly with someone in his study. Approaching the wide door, you pushed your long-hooped skirt back, leaning forward at your waist and peaking your head into the doorframe being careful not to be seen or draw any attention to yourself. Your eyes settled on your brother and a tall, pale, dark-haired man standing at the corner of his desk peering down at several documents. The tall, pale, dark-haired man was dressed in a well pressed white and red suit. “… And once you sign here everything will be confirmed and finalized. A ship will be ready to set sale in the next few days.” The man’s deep voice whispered quietly as he traced the lines of script messily written down on the parchment paper placed in front of them. Your brother silently nodded, eyes darting across the paper, reading carefully, hesitating to sign. Finally, your brother looked up at the man, “and I have word that she will be taken care of? That she will not be harmed and forced to live a life unbecoming of her?” The man simply gave a curt nod, “by word of the queen of great Brittan and Ireland, yes, she will be taken care of and provided a life fit for the future queen and mother of a future heir.” In hearing his response your brother nodded, placing his quill into the jar of ink and signing the documents.

Your heartbeat quickened and your breaths became short. Your brother the only man, person really, you could rely on had just sold you off to some random stranger. Well not entirely random, he sold you off to the king. King Heeseung. You whipped up, stumbling back and slightly knocking into a bust behind you, rocking it off its collum and crashing loudly on the floor. The maid passing by jumped at the noise. Rapidly you regained your posture and ran away swiftly as your brother and the man made their way out of his study. Your brother sighed, putting his head in his hands and sweeping his hair back. The man accompanying him looked at him with disbelief as your brother assured him everything would be fine and the two of you would arrive at the port in the coming days to make the log journey to England. Silently the man once again nodded, collecting the signed documents and making his way out of the palace.

With quick haste your brother followed after you, desperately calling out your name. With deep breaths you turned to face him, your skirt flipping around as your body turned. “How could you? How could you sell me off? Sell me off to a man you’ve never met? For what brother, what did you sell me off for?” your eyes pleaded with him as your voice began to crack, tears brimming on the edge of your lashes. Your brother looked at you, hand gently coming up and wiping away the tears that had finally been released. “My dearest sister, you know that never in my years would I ever imagine hurting you or leaving you in a position to fend for yourself” he breathed in deeply “ I did this for us, you must understand that we are not in a good position, every day the larger countries around us send more soldiers and I fear that we are one step closer to becoming just another victim. In marrying you off not only have I secured your future. One where you will be treated with respect and dignity. One where you will live the finest life and be able to have beautiful children. But also, one where we have the support of one of the largest nations in the known world. Where our tiny island can become peaceful once again. And yes, perhaps we do not know much about the king, however, I have on good word that he will be nothing but kind towards you.”  Your brother pulled you into a hug, gently stroking the back of your hair, “You will be perfectly fine, dear sister I will be with you until I can no longer.” Nodding you hugged your brother back, deciding that it is something you must do for not only your brother but the country you love most dearly.

Various thoughts swam around in your head as the carriage made its way down the cobblestone path. It had been a long journey at sea, but you had finally made it to the mainland. You had to admit as much as you admired your country, this one was nothing like you had ever seen before. There were larger buildings and so many people surrounding the streets. You groaned quietly and sat the book you were reading down in your lap as the carriage bounced roughly once again. “What is it this time dear sister?” your brother asked not looking up from his own book. “If you must know, I am uncomfortable.” You complained. “We have been on the road for hours now, it is hot, and I am sat here in a dress made of the finest blue silks and a corset made of whale bone. The slightest jostle pushes it deeper into my skin. Do you know what happens if it penetrates too far? Humm, do you?” you questioned, voice growing irritated. Your brother let out a small huff, placing his book down on his lap and tilting his head towards you, ‘No dearest sister I do not, but I assume that you will so kindly inform me.” You gave him a tight-lipped sarcastic smile, “It can snap and stab me dearest brother, and you will have no one to deliver to the king. Only my dead body in the finest blue silk covered with my dark warm blood.” Your brother only rolled his eyes at your dramatics and picked up his book again, “You will be fine, you have made it thus far” he said as you began to look out the small carriage window.

After a few more long hours your carriage had finally stopped in front of the main church on the palace lands. Thousands of people had made their way inside as you were being escorted out of your carriage and through the doors to a small drawing room on the top level. Inside stood a beautiful woman, dressed in a fine and pristine cream-colored gown. She handed her tea off to a maid as she stood up from the small couch on which she was sitting upon. Several of her lady’s maids ushered you onto a small platform in the center of the room. “Let me get a good look at her.” The woman declared as the maids all fled to the edges of the room. She circled you as if you were prey, poking and prodding at you.” Now what is this getup you are wearing? It is simply too much!” she exclaimed. You looked down at her, “only the finest silk of what my country has to offer.”  She let out a exasperated hum lifting your arms, “Yes, she will do just fine. She has a nice complexion and hips well suited for childbearing. If only she was in something a little more traditional.” The woman looked to your brother who was standing in the entryway of the room, “Does she know how to read? Does she know how to mind her manners?” Your head snapped over to him, an irritated look growing on your face. Your brother simply smiled, eyes begging for you to calm down. “Of course, my Queen. She is well read, can speak several languages, is proficient at both the piano forte and homemaking skills such as needle point.” The queen nodded along as your brother listed off attributes. “Very well than...” she turned her head towards you, “and what do you have to say?” Casting another look to your brother you gently cleared your throat, “It is such a pleasure to be here today my Queen. Thank you for allowing me this opportunity.” The queen once again simply nodded. “Ah yes humble too.  Get her into a traditional gown and prepare her for the wedding. We mustn’t keep the people waiting.” A series of ‘Yes Ma’ams’ went across the room as the queen left. As the lady’s maids dressed you, you tried to ask them questions about the king. Simple things like who was he really and if he was at all kinds. You got short answers all along the lines of “Well he is the king of course”. Nothing that truly satisfied your inquiries. Before you knew it you were stripped and placed into a boring white and cream ball gown.

Finally getting a break from all the hands on you and people around you, you wandered the halls. Silently you heard footsteps behind you. Turing abruptly, you found a man five paces away. Once again you began to walk, and the man followed. This occurred several times before you stopped and faced the man completely. He bowed to you, staying silent. ‘And whom might you be?” you questioned. He gave you a half-hearted smile and introduced himself as your valet and told you that wherever you went, he would be not but 10 paces behind you. You simply nodded, wanting to get away as soon as possible. Making your way back to the drawing room you looked behind at the man, ‘So you follow me wherever I go?” He simply nods. “Yes, Ma’am”. You purse your lips, “And if I were to need to use the chamber pot?” The man cleared his throated and looked at the lady’s maid that was left, ‘please go fetch one for the future queen”. The maid nodded leaving to go fetch a chamber pot and the man silently walked out of the room and waited. Quietly you tiptoed out of the room, carefully sneaking past your shadow and the lady’s maid that was waiting.

You made your way out of the large church, running into the maze-like garden. Taking several twists and turns you found yourself at a beautiful garden wall made with stone, covered in moss with vines growing up the sides, various breeds of roses covering them. Gripping into the strong vines you found a chip in the wall. Attempting to push yourself up and over it you ground as you failed. After several more attempts you stopped, taking a moment to breathe in deeply. On your next attempt you jumped as you heard a man clear his throat behind you. Fearing that you had been caught by your new footman you turned slowly, wincing as you did. Much to your surprise a young man stood behind you. Dressed impeccably in a white suit with decadent jewels decorating the edges of the jacket. The man was nothing less than breathtakingly gorgeous. His eyes captivated you, beautiful and lively. Like no others you’ve seen before. However, the smile he wore was even more heartwarming. Beautiful and kind. That was the only way you could describe him at that moment. “Might I inquire as to why you are trying to go over that garden wall” the man questioned, light hair that was perfectly styled now flowing gently in the breeze. “If it is any of your business it is because I fear he may be a beast, or perhaps a troll.” You stated looking down at your hands, gently wiping them against each other, “And who might you be referring to my lady?” the man continued. You rolled your eyes letting out anther huff and giving the man a side glance before trailing your eyes back to the garden wall, “As impertinent as that might be I am speaking of the King. No one will speak of him. Everything is so rehearsed no one has anything real to say. So clearly, he must be a beast or a troll.” You brought your hand up to the wall, finding a perfect spot; now if you’ll ever be so kind, I believe that if I grab it here, I might be able to get up. Yes! You can assist me by lifting me up here!” you exclaimed, looking back slightly at the man. The mans smile faded slightly, “So no beast and no trolls, his looks would matter to you?” “Well of course not, his looks don’t matter to me, but his heart does, and I cannot get any answer on that either” you answered curtly before speaking again, “Now come, make haste, grip me here…” you explained gesturing to your corseted waist, “... and just lift me, I believe I can make it over the garden wall.” Still looking up at the wall you don’t notice than man approaching you.

“I must be honest my lady,” you turned to look at him. “I have no intentions on helping you over the garden wall.” His smile came back, teeth white and glistening in the sun. The light of which highlighted his handsome feature. You threw him a questioning glance, “So you refuse to help a lady in distress?” you countered. The man just let out a low chuckle, “Only when said lady in distress is trying to go over a garden wall in order to not marry me.” Your face fell as you felt your heartbeat picking up again. Just like the day you found out you were to be married. You backed away from the man, taking in a couple deep breaths. The man followed, stepping closer to you. Smile reaching his eyes and his nose crinkling slightly, “Hello y/n. I’m Heeseung.” You began to apologize to him, getting ready to curtsy “Your majesty- “, however, he grabbed your arm, hand gently sliding down to hold your hand. “No not your majesty, Heeseung, just Heeseung.” Before you could speak again you heard a pair of footsteps. Your brother came rushing around the corner. “Y/n, where on heavens earth have you been? We have been looking everywhere for you” he hissed before quickly bowing to greet Heeseung. Heeseung gave a polite greeting back, “No need to be worried here, I was just chatting with Y/n. She was deciding whether she wishes to marry me.” Your brother looked between the two of you incredulously, “Well of- of course she wants to marry you” he stuttered. Heeseung simply shook his head, flipping is light hair back, “Is that truly what you wish Y/n?” He hummed at you. “Yes, your majest- “, his eyes flickered over your face making their way to your eyes. “Yes Heeseung, I do wish to marry you,” He nodded, giving you a charming smile, “Vey well then I shall see you in the wedding hall.”

After changing into a wedding dress more becoming of you, you made your way into the wedding hall. Your brother walking you down the long and narrow isle as the orchestra played in the background. Looking towards the end of the isle you saw Heeseung standing. He was in his pristine white suit; his white light hair was pushed back. Not a single strand was out of place, he looked absolutely perfect. Your brother handed you off to Heeseung before going to sit down. Heeseung smiled at you gently as he held your hands in his.

The wedding ceremony was quick. It seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Before you even knew it you had said your vows of promise and celebrated rightfully with the people in attendance. After the sun had set you and Heeseung began to say goodbye to your guest before being ushered out of the large church and into a carriage. Heeseung held your hand the entire way back to the palace, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “You will absolutely love it, before you came, I had the whole palace of Kew redesigned and made just perfect for you” he chimed. You looked at him quizzingly, “will you not be there as well?” He paused for a moment before ignoring your question. He continued about the newly designed palace. As the palace quickly approached, he finished up his explaining about everything he had done. He exited the carriage first turning around to assist you out, leading you to the doors he escorted you inside before letting you go. “Now that you shall find yourself settled, I shall return to my observatory” he nodded letting go of your hand and briskly walking away from you. You frowned deeply, “Is that how it is to be? You are there and me here alone?” You asked the question. Heeseung looked exasperated, “Yes, it is easier that way.” “For whom?” you questioned back at him “For you or for me?” He looked at you, cheeks reddening and his breaths becoming unsteady, “I will not debate this” he hissed, as you opened your moth to speak, he cut you off, “I have decided, I am your king!” His voice boomed throughout the room. Silently you clenched your teeth, wondering how it all could go wrong in a matter of minutes, “Very well, it was my mistake. I thought you to just be Heeseung. Good night your majesty.” You curtsied before turned, ignoring his small calls to you and making your way deeper into the palace walls.

Days had passed and you were beginning to grow bored in the empty palace. Your footman was of no help as you were not allowed to do anything or be seen in public since it was supposed to be your honeymoon. The longer you were alone the deeper in your thoughts you fell. When you first met Heeseung he was so charming. His award-winning smile swept you off your feet and you were so happy to marry him. The sweet way he helped you and the gentle way he had first spoke to you made your heart throb with hurt of his actions when you first came to the palace. Eventually You had grown tired of being alone, unable to do anything, only being with your footman. One day at dinner as you were struggling to cut up a piece of meat you threw your silverware down on the plate; startling your footman and the servants that were posted around the room, “Joong?” you questioned the footman, “Yes, your majesty?” “Ready the carriage.” You stated as you started smoothing out your dress. “Very well your majesty, might I ask to where we’re going?” You nodded, stepping away from the table as your chair scratched over the floor, “Were going to see my husband.”

The carriage ride was short, however it felt like a lifetime to you. Once you reached the observatory Heeseung’s footman came out. “The king does not wish to see you your majesty.” He stated firmly. You looked at him, eyes narrowing. “And if I WISH to see the king?” you questioned. The footman let out an exasperated sigh, having nothing more to say. You pushed past him and into the doors of the observatory. As you entered you were stunned at the sight of it. There were several dinner plates everywhere; along with stretched out rolls of parchment, all with various sketches of stars and planets on them. In the middle of the observatory sat your husband. His shoulders bare and exposed in the soft moonlight coming from the opening on top of the observatory. His skin glistening and smooth. Before you spoke you took a moment to look at him, wanting to commit his figure to your mind. He was tall and rather lean but at the same time, he was muscular. You had witnessed him do farm chores around the palace grounds but seeing him relaxed and in his own head was something else. Before you had a chance to alert him to your present, his footman busted in. “Your majesty, Queen Y/N has arrived to see you.”

Heeseung turned around and once again you found yourself falling into his gaze. Something was different about his eyes this time. It seemed as if he wasn’t all there. As if he was somehow here on earth in front of you and up somewhere in space. “Ahh my dearest Y/n, why have you come to me today?” he babbled, turning back to his telescope. You scoffed face contorting, “Is this where you have been the entire time?” You snapped. “Sitting in here all alone, while I writher away lonely in Kew?” The king scoffs and spares you but a glance, “Would you rather me be out visiting a whore house?”. You gasped at his harshness, “I would rather you be with someone else than to come second place to some stars.” You murmured, walking around so he could face you. He looked at you, eyes traveling over your form. “Go. I don’t wish to see you; I don’t wish to be near you. Go back to your home.” His voice is eerily quiet and calm. “Why must I go? Why must I have to spend my existence alone and with only Joong and my ladies in waiting to keep me company? Why can I not have time with you?” you questioned trying to get closer to him. He pushed you away gently, “I do not know why it is so hard for you to understand y/n. I do not wish to be near you, I do not wish to see you. I do not wish to speak to you. So go.” He seethed, voice becoming louder after every sentence. With a quiet sniffle you let out a sigh and walked out. Calling out for Joong and making your way back into the carriage.

After you had left Heeseung got up from the floor, cleaning up some of the parchment around the observatory. His footman came towards him and began to help. “Do you think I am wrong for what I am doing?” Heeseung questioned him. His footman cleared his throat, “It is not my place to say, however I do believe you could be kinder to her majesty. From what I hear it has been exceptionally hard on her…” His footman trailed off not wanting to overstep his boundaries. Heeseung sighs, shoulders bending inwards, “I know that, but you of all people know why I am not to become close with her. I could not live with myself if anything were to happen. If I were to lose control. But perhaps I may have been too harsh on her.” Heeseung confessed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He looked over towards his footman, “Find out what she likes, I wish to get her an extravagant gift” Heeseung’s footman nodded, finishing his task and going to find what was requested of him.

The next day you woke up earlier than usual. Instead of altering your lady’s maid you allowed yourself to lay in bed. After finally deciding to get up and allow yourself to be dressed you made your way down to breakfast. Another day alone, could it possibly get any worse. Shortly after you began eating Heeseung’s footman came into the large dining room carrying a small basket wrapped in red ribbon. “A gift from the king to you, your majesty, he would like to gift you a dog of the finest breed our country can offer.” You look at the footman incredulously as he sets the small basket down and a small dog comes tumbling out. “What is that?” your question. “Well, a dog of course your majesty. “That is nothing more than a deformed bunny. Regardless, as it is from the king I will accept it graciously” You nodded to the footman and signaled for Joong to take the dog. “Clearly it will be my only company in this palace.” Quickly you finished your breakfast before leaving the dining room with Joong and the dog.

After meeting with your ladies in waiting and venting to your newly trusted confidant Jiyun, you had settled down. She explained to you what your present in the palace has done for the people and how it has affected the way others are seen. Confiding in her feeling good, you felt the relief wash over you as you talked to her about everything that had conspired behind the high walls of the palace. In return she told you the rumors circulating about the possibility of an heir and the things your new Mother-in-law had said about you. Things from you being a bad wife and queen to you being un-pure when you arrived on shore. When you shared the truth about your nonexistent escapades with the king she gave you a look of pity, asking you if you had known what was to happen when Heeseung would eventually bed you. You had told her just what your lady’s maid told you, there again the look of pity crossed her face as she got up and got the supplies to inform you what was to happen.

Over the next few weeks Heeseung sent more gifts, including more dogs. You had enough to have each of your ladies in waiting carry one around for you. One day you woke up, going through your morning routine of getting dressed and pampered by the maids and going to breakfast. Much to your surprise Heeseung was there waiting for you. He seemed perfectly chipper as he enjoyed his breakfast. You sat down in front of him, eyes gliding across the room. The servants who usually seemed much more relaxed were now on guard and stiff against the edges of the room. “And what are you doing here?” You asked, easing an eyebrow slightly. He chuckled deeply, putting his for and knife down, “isn’t it obvious, I want to join my wife in our home.” You drew in a quick and deep breath, “Our home? No this is my home. A home you left me too alone.” He’s eyes soften looking at you, “I apologize for how I have been acting, but please give me a chance.” Without a second glance you got up, telling Joong that you would that your breakfast in the drawing room before walking out of the dining room. How could he think after weeks of ignoring you for the stars and sending you useless gifts you have no need for, he could come back and pretend as if everything was fine.

Over the following weeks you and Heeseung fell into a routine. Eventually you agreed to at least share one meal together and converse a little. At dinner Heeseung says across from you, eyes following you closely. “I would like to show you my observatory...” he spoke softly. Your head snapped up to him, eyes widening slightly, “Really?” He nodded, “yes I feel it’s only right that I show you what has kept me away from you for so long.” You smiled at his stately finally feeling like you were getting somewhere with the distant king. When nightfall came the next night Heeseung, and his footman came to get you from your room. You smiled softly as Heeseung gently took your hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it. As he led you out of the palace you had begun to feel nervous. What was so important about this observatory that it kept him away from you. The road to the carriage had felt like it took years. Stepping out carefully with the help of Heeseung you both made your way up the wide cobblestone steps. Entering the observatory, he opened the top to the telescope, guiding you to look inside.

“I’ve always found the planets interesting. I think it’s amazing how we can be so small and insignificant compared to the world. I have never been one to want to look at the darker side of things. Though ever since my father died at war it has been hard for me. Taking over my father’s place was the only thing I was created for. It was my only life’s purpose. I am to bear the burden of every mother, father, and child in this country.” He glances down, “Life is never easy, and I would not have expected it to be. But this crown is pressure on my head, a constant weight and reminder that I am not allowed to crack, that I am not allowed to be anyone other than who the people need me to be. I cannot just be your husband; I cannot just be my mother’s son.” His jaw clenches, eyes still cast upon the floor. You look at him, sorrow and pity finding the way to your eyes, as he continues “No matter how much I want to be, I must always be king. A king first, a king of the people, one who must take into consideration everyone. I wish to just be your Heeseung. I wish to just love you every day, to just stand by your side every day, to just be with you every day for the rest of my life… “You approach him, hands finding their way to his arms, gently tracing down them, “but you don’t have to do it alone, I’m right here, I too simply wish to be with you. In every way, with joy and with sorrow. I just want to be with you.” He looks at you, eyes soft and a charming smile making his way to his face. Gently he takes your face in his hands, leaning down and brushing your lips together ever so slightly.

Your heart jumps into your throat, another nervous feeling washing over you. This time it makes you feel giddy and excited rather than anxious. Slowly you lean into the kiss. Finally pressing your lips together. His hands find his way from your face softly sliding down before settling on your waist, pulling you closer into him. The world itself seemed to pause as the kiss went on. Lips against lips, and breaths interchanging with each kiss. As you leaned into his embrace, he pulled back resting his forehead against your hands still gripping at your waist. “Let’s go home.” The simple statement from him made you flustered, you could feel your cheeks warming up. Nevertheless, you nodded, and he once again led you out and to the carriage, holding onto you the entire way back to the palace.       

Once you go to the palace Heeseung once again helps you out of the carriage, holding on to you ever so gently. Making your way inside through the large palace doors you both stop in the foyer, your maids coming up to assist you in getting ready for bed as it had become quite late. You look around, eyes finding Heeseung, he gives you a smile and allows them to take you away, “Go and get comfortable, I’ll find you later” he smiles at you once again giving you a small kiss. Simply nodding you allow yourself to be taken up the grand staircase and ushered into a bathroom, the ruby and gold encrusted tub sat in the middle with heaps of steam rolling off the top of the water inside. “We took the liberty of drawing you a bath Ma’am” your maid said, you nodded at her in thank you allowing her to undress you from your corset and large gown before getting in the bath. After being thoroughly scrubbed down by your maid you had finally gotten out of the bath. Your maid dressed you in a white button-down night dress. Making your way back to your room you let out a sigh, rolling your shoulders as the maids opened the door for you.

You stopped in your tracks as you walked into the large opulent room. Sitting on the large bed in the middle of your room was Heeseung. Leaning back on his hands, clad in just a pair of night pants and an unbuttoned night shirt showing off his chest. He glanced over at you as you entered the room, pushing himself up and walking towards you. He takes you hands in his, binging them up to his mouth and kissing them softly, “You look simply mesmerizing, y/n”, your cheeks heated up once again at his complement, looking down at your intertwined hands you smiled. “Thank you…” You unlaced your fingers bringing your hand up to cup his face, bringing your faces closer together. You leaned in close to him, softly pressing your lips together. Before you could go any further, he stopped you, “Are you sure this is something you truly want?” His question caught you off guard and you thought back to what you were told by one of your ladies in waiting. “Of course I want this, I want to be with you” you whispered to him. He smiled, kissing you gently, “Do you know what is to happen?” you nodded silently, “I have been told… however I did not enjoy the part where my head is to hit the wall repeatedly” he let out a low laugh and caressed the back of your head, “That okay my love, we can stop that.” You took note of how his eyes crinkled at the side as he leaned down and kissed you.

You pulled away, reaching to start to unbutton your night dress, “I fear I may have made a wrong choice of wardrobe” you said as you struggled with the various buttons. He shook his head, “no do not worry about it, I’m very good with buttons.” His hands followed yours as he pulled you closer to him, lips pressing against the sides of your neck. With little effort he popped the buttons down your night dress. A small moan escaped from your throat as Heeseung continued to trail kisses down your neck, biting and sucking gently. Slipping the dress off your shoulders and allowing it to fall on the floor leaving you completely exposed. He leaned back, admiring you, “you are beautiful, you are everything I imagined you to be and more…” your ears began to ring, and you felt the heat crawl up your neck. You thanked him with a kiss, running your hands up his sides sliding them under the top of his unbuttoned shirt, slipping it off his shoulders. “As are you” he shook his head, turning and softly pushing you down onto the plush bed, “I can simply never match your beauty, you are ethereal.” His statement made your heart race. Your breath quickened as Heeseung once again began kissing down your neck, hands gripping harshly at your sides, “you are ever so perfect my love.”

You let out a whiny moan hands coming up and gripping his hair as you reflexively arched into his touch. His lips found their way to your chest. Another soft moan escaped your lips as his hot mouth wrapped around your pert nipple, his other hand coming up and gingerly tweaking the other one. It was a new sensation to you, one that sent shockwaves of heat throughout your body. You bit your lip letting out small puffs of air but concealing your moans. Heeseung’s eyes trailed up to meet your as he switched from one nipple to the other, “Do not hide your beautiful sounds from me I wish to hear them. To know that I am making you feel the upmost pleasure.” You nodded silently a gasp leaving your mouth as you felt his hand train from your breast and down to your thighs. Heeseung had stopped his assault on your chest and nipples; allowing himself to slide further down into the bed. You felt the same surge of heat flood through you. Both of his hands fell onto your thighs, gently pushing them apart and exposing you to him. You shivered as his fingers gently spread your folds. Without holding back, he licked up from your entrance mouth circling around your clit and sucking on it harshly. Your hips jolted, hot pleasure brining through you at the new sensation. A whine left your throat as your hands ran through his hair pulling on it. Heeseung moaned against you, dipping his tongue into you and savoring your taste on his tongue.

Slowly he begins to trail his hands up and down the inside of your thighs before slipping two fingers inside of you focusing his efforts back on your clit. The stretch of his fingers is a bit uncomfortable but still pleasurable. He waits to let you adjust to the feeling before slowly starting to thrust them. A gasp leaves you at the feeling.  Clenching down on his fingers you start to follow his movements, pleasure seeping into every limb as you pull at his hair. With a breathy moan you cum, legs trying to close at the newfound feeling. Heeseung’s hand grips your thigh, forcing your legs to stay open as he licks up what he can of your arousal.

Heeseung moves back up in the bed, pulling his fingers from you and sticking them in his mouth. Your face burns at the sight, Slowly Heeseung pulls of his pants, your eyes trail downwards to his exposed cock. It was long and hard, leaking precum and red, slowly Heeseung starts grinding gently against you, “Are you doing okay my love?” he asked, his voice gentle and caring. You let out a nod slightly spent from the previous orgasm, Heeseung shook his head, “No, I need words dear.” Breathing heavily, you once again nodded, “Yes, yes, I am doing so good please continue.” Heeseung nodded, bending over to give you a deep kiss. Slowly he lined himself up, rubbing his tip against your clit before he pushed into you, although he had thoroughly stretched you out there was still a slight burn. Your hands moved up to grip his shoulders, nails digging into them as he stopped moving, allowing you time to adjust. After a brief pause, he looked down at you, waiting for you to allow him to continue, you pulled him down, giving him another kiss, “I think I am okay now...” you mumbled against his lips. He nodded, gripping your thigh and pulling your leg up onto his waist pulling out slightly before thrusting in again. After a few experimental thrusts he started to speed up. With a loud moan you through your head back, mouth open and hands gripping tightly at him. “You look so beautiful, so perfect for me” he huffed continuing to bury himself deep inside you. You whine, eyes clenched shut in pleasure. “You feel so good wrapped around me” he groaned, thrusting relentlessly into your velvety walls. You moaned loudly, small pleads of pleasure leaving your lips. “You’re going to look so good with my seed dripping out of you, humm would you like that my queen?”

His filthy words draw you closer to your impending orgasm. You nod, your brain fuzzy, the only thing on your mind was the way his thick cock dragged against your walls. A loud moan rips from your throat as you clench around him again, “That’s it my love, cum, cum for me beautiful” Heeseung whispers, moaning lowly. You orgasm rushes over you, and with one last thrust from Heeseung he comes as well, painting your walls white with his seed, dripping and causing a mess.  You trembled coming down from your high, cringing at the feeling of sweat and hair sticking to your body but stayed beneath Heeseung anyway. He gave you a final gentle kiss before pulling out and lying next to you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you tightly into his chest allowing you to lay your head down on his chest. “You were absolutely perfect y/n.” You smiled stretching your neck and giving him a short but sweet kiss as a thank you before you finally relaxed in his arms, the both of you falling asleep in a pile of intertwined limbs.

The next morning you woke up alone. You got up from bed feeling slight discomfort as your lady’s maid came in to help you bathe once again and get dressed for the day. As your maid scrubbed you down in the tub, she looked at you with a pained smile. “I was informed to let your majesty know that the Kings mother has arrived and will be staying for the day.” You clinched your teeth together simply nodding and allowing her to finish washing you off. As your maid tightened the corset and placed you in the large, elegant dress you couldn’t help but space out. You wondered by you mother-in-law would choose now of all days to visit you. It was no secret, the things she said of you, but even so you did not imagine that she would go as far as to hound you in your own home. Walking down the large hall you had a wide smile on your face. Looking in each room for your husband your footsteps softened as you heard his booming voice, followed by the screech of his mother.

You were brought back to the day you found out you were to be married, sneaking around and peaking from the corner of the doorframe you listened to them intently. “I have done everything you asked. You asked me to get married. I let you choose, and I got married. You asked me to stay away from her and keep hidden for as long as I could, and so I did. You asked that I bed her and try for an heir and so I did. What more could you want from me?” He yelled sharply, clearly trying to maintain his composure. “I want results, I want the next heir and I want news of her falling pregnant soon. You are to remain here and continue to try until we get the next king to this country.” You could hardly hear her reply as your heartbeat thumped in your ears. Utterly heartbroken and angry you stepped into the door frame, pushing it open wider. Heeseung looked at you, his face falling as he realized you had been standing there for far too long; hearing all the things he had to say about you and his thoughts on your relationship. “Y/n- “Before he continued you cut him off; breathing in deeply, you started to speak, turning towards him and bowing down, “I apologize your majesty, As I must have misunderstood our situation and the way you truly felt about me. Now that I know I will refrain from seeking companionship with you.” Yu looked towards your mother-in-law and bowed again, “I will of course continue to try for an heir, I will not fail. I will perform my duty as it has been laid out for me.” His mother looked satisfied with your answer, nodding her head and looking between the two of the, “Well at least she is not completely useless or incompetent.” Hearing the spiteful comment from your mother-in-law, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room.

By nightfall his mother had left, and you and Heeseung were alone. He had tried to talk to you several times throughout the day, but you had simply ignored him stating that you would see him the next time you were to try for an heir. As the weeks dragged on you had been trying. Eventually the day after next it was time for you to once again try for a heir. You found yourself walking into the bathroom as Heeseung was taking a bath. Stripping yourself of your bed coat you stood in front of him. Quickly he told his footman to get out. “Just get in…” he demanded, and you followed. Dropping down on top of him in the tub you pulled his face to yours, connecting your lips in a hot kiss. His hands found their way to your thighs rubbing up them and lifting your now soaking dress. You felt him harden as you ran your lips down his neck grinding down gently. Heeseung sucked in a breath allowing his head to fall back and for you to continue your ministrations. You had never been this confident before, Heeseung just had to wonder where it came from.  Before long he found himself wanting even more of you. Stopping you from going further down his chest he gripped your chin, bringing your lips back up to meet his as he untired your bed coat. His fingers went back to your thighs, ghosting across them and then into your dress, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the floor. Grabbing at his hard cock in the water you line him up to your entrance, sinking down onto him with a brief pause.

No matter how many times you have done this the slight stretch is always there. A moan rips from Heeseung’s throat as you begin to ride him, bouncing up and down quickly. Your own moans were just as loud, acting as music to Heeseung’s ears. His fingers dig into your hips allowing him to set the pace.  Your thighs started to burn as Heeseung slowed down your bouncing, kissing you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth, “You’re so perfect for me,” he praised moving one hand down in between your legs, fingers pressing harshly against your sensitive clit, rubbing it in small circled. A high-pitched moan left your lips, as your hips jolted slightly from the pleasurable friction, “Heeseung please” you begged quietly already feeling your orgasm impending as your legs had begun to shake. Heeseung didn’t stop, “You do not have to ask my dear go ahead, come for me” he moaned out into your ear, starting to thrust up into you faster. You whined, clenching tightly around him, as you came his fingers still rubbing on your clit. Heeseung followed shortly after you, his warm cum filling you up and leaking down his cock.

Panting heavily, you collapsed on top of him, sighing at the relief of your burning thighs, allowing yourself to relax into the now cold bath. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, “I’ve missed this you know; I’ve missed the intimacy between the two of us…” he mumbled. You nodded your head, “As have I but it is not my fault that it had disappeared” Heeseung let out a sigh nodding his head as he place it on top of yours, “I am aware and for that I am sorry. I am always so caught up in who I must be as a king I forget that somedays I can just be Heeseung and no one else.” You gave his neck a gentle kiss, “It is okay, let us just move on, what has happened has happened and there is nothing we can do about that. It is what happens from here that matters now.” You spoke softly into his neck. “Oh, how wise you are my dear queen.” He praised you as he pulled away to get out of the tub. ‘As much as I love laying here with you, we must get out, it is rather late, and I fear I do not like the feeling on my fingers and toes wrinkling.” You agreed with his statement allowing him to get out of the tub and dry off, dressing himself in clothes that were already laid out, before he came back to help you. Ever so gently he pulled you out of the tub, wrapping you in a bath towel and drying you off gently. His eyes fell to your soaking dress on the floor, “I fear that you may not be able to wear that one again tonight my queen.” You giggled at his response. “And who shall be at fault if not you my king,” he smiled widely at you, “Nevertheless I do agree, I shall call for a new one.” After a short wait a maid brought you a new dress, helping you change. Heeseung took you into his arms, walking you to his room and laying you down on the bed, joining you shortly after. “Stay with me tonight please?” He asked. You simply nodded, allowing yourself to lay in his arms as you finally dozed off.  

You were awoken by the sound of a crash coming from outside the palace, in the garden. You looked around the room noticing Heeseung was nowhere to be found. Hastily you jumped out of bed, putting on your bed coat and walking out to the palace garden. There you found Heeseung stripped naked in the rose garden, rocking back and forth quietly singing about the planets to himself, hands out in front of him as if playing an imaginary piano. You knew he had been going through something over the past few weeks, but you could have never imagined it to end with him like this. His footman was standing in front of him, trying to get ahold of his attention. As you approached them his footman turned to you, “You should be inside your majesty the king would not like you to see him like this.” You shook your head at him, “Absolutely not. I will not abandon my husband in his time of need.” You made your way closer, pushing the footman out of the way and crouching down in front of Heeseung grabbing his hands. “Venus has gone away, will she come out to play?” You heard his quiet singing. “Heeseung, Heeseung my love, are you okay?” His eyes finally found their way towards you. You smiled at him, moving a hand to caress his face.  He shakes your hand away from his, grabbing your face, “Venus you are not in the sky, have you come to play with me?” You bit your lip at his question shaking your head. “It’s me Heeseung. It’s Y/n. I’m your wife.” He smiles widely, laughing loudly, “Yes of course you’re my y/n. You are way too beautiful to just be Venus. She could never hold a candlelight to you, my dearest.” His ramblings brought you worry but you kept calm for his sake. “Of course, and you are my dear husband, Venus has gone away, so we must go inside now.” Heeseung nodded in agreement. You pulled him up and took off your bed coat, wrapping it around him and leading him to the bathroom. You instructed his footman to bring you water and a cloth. When his footman came back with the warm bucket of water you gently scrubbed the dirt off Heeseung, assisting in getting him dressed and back in bed. You turned to look at Heeseung’s footman once you got him settled, “You must make sure that none of this leaves the palace grounds. Make up what excuse you have too but no one must know.” His footman nodded bowing to you with a quick, “Yes Ma’am.” before he left. Laying down next to Heeseung you gently stroked his hair back, kissing the top of his head, begging whatever deity would listen that he would be okay in the morning.

When morning finally came you once again woke up alone. You got a dreadful feeling as you got flashbacks to the last time you had woken up alone after sleeping with Heeseung. You had hoped that today would be better for the both of you. You also had hoped that Heeseung might finally be open about what he was going through. Making your way to the dining room a shy smile came over your face as you noticed he was sitting down at the table. You sat down as you were served your breakfast. “Are you doing well this morning?” you asked him quietly. His head snapped up from looking down at his tea, “You must already know the answer to that.” He stated. You nodded your head, “I do but it never hurts to ask, you gave me quite a fright last night. I was worried about you.” He looked you up and down, trying to find any sign that you were lying and stayed silent. Finishing up your breakfast you gave him a nod, deciding not to say anything else and allow him to sit in silence. Before getting up to leave you cleared your throat, “I have an appointment with the doctor today, so we shall see if anything comes of it.” Heeseung remained silent as you left. In that moment he knew that if you were to have finally fallen pregnant, he would have to make himself start to visit his doctor again. He would have to get himself under control, no more episodes and no more mod swings. Shortly after your doctor’s appointment word reached Heeseung that you were indeed pregnant. When he read the letter, he felt his heart stop. His heart hurt for you and for your future child. However, it also swelled with joy, as hard as adapting to this marriage has been he was so proud to finally have something to share with just you. As for you, you were elated with the news. You had finally achieved what was thought to be your only role in life and you could not wait for your baby to come.

It has been several weeks since you got news back from the doctor regarding your pregnancy. You knew he hadn’t been back to his observatory, but he had seldom been seen in the halls of the palace. Now several months pregnant you couldn’t stand not knowing where he was. You had tried sending him letters and even getting Joong to harass Heeseung’s footman to try and find out where he could be hiding. Even through all of that you still had no idea. Though as time went on and a few months passed you began to grow suspicion about the chatter from the servants. You had heard some of them talking about hearing screams being concealed deeply in the underground chambers beneath the main palace for several days and nights. Others talked about how it must have been someone who betrayed the crown, and though you wouldn’t have doubted it, with your husband missing you just had to think otherwise. The rumor mill led you to none other than your mother-in-law. Walking into her large drawing room you ignored the woman that was sitting with her. “Where is he?” you demanded, slapping a hand down on the gold marble table. Your mother-in-law jumped as the sound, giving you a glare before turning to look at the woman sitting with her, “I suppose we will have to catch up some other time, I fear the queen’s pregnancy has gotten to her.” The other woman let out a giggle, muttering something about having been there before as she curtsied and walked out of the room, allowing the servants to close the heavy wooden door behind her. “You must’ve lost your manners, girl” she hissed at you, “You have no right to demand to see the king, let alone know where he is. It is none of your concern.” You clenched your jaw, teeth grinding down against each other as you huffed out, “No right? No right, you say. I have every right, even more so than you. I have every right to demand to know where my husband is and what he is doing. I have every right to see him!” Your mother-in-law simply shook her head, “He would not want you to know where he is.” She sucked in another breath but before she could begin to talk again you cut her off. “I know. I know that the king is mad, I know that he is sick.” Anger flared in your mothers-in-law eyes as he looked at you, “The king is not, and I repeat, is not mad. He is simply burdened.” You shook your head. Voice breaking as you spoke, “You do not understand, I know that he is, I have seen it firsthand. Yet I choose to love him anyway, I choose to stay by his side.” As much as this woman had hurt you, made you feel inferior and alone you couldn’t bear to see her do the same to your husband, her own son. “So please, I will do what I must but please let me see him.” However, it seemed as though your pleads had fallen on deaf ears as your mother-in-law walked away. You only had one other option, to go to Heeseung’s footman and convince him yourself.

Following a short ride to the main palace you met Heeseung’s footman. You glared at him as Joong helped you out of the carriage you had arrived in, being extra careful of your pregnant belly. “I am demanding to see the king.” You spoke out calmly. Heeseung’s foot man looked at you. Before he could begin speaking back you shook your head, “I am demanding to see the king. As your queen you are required to allow me to see him. As his right hand and aide, you are sworn to protect him. With that being said, you must take me to the king.” Heeseung’s footman sighed, not saying a word but casting a long glance to a lone cellar door on the side of the building. Without saying another word, you took off, Heeseung’s footman and Joong following closely behind you. “Your majesty you mustn’t enter there, he does not wish for you to see him in this state.” The footman pleaded with you. “He is my husband; I shall see him in whatever state I wish.” You responded as you threw open the cellar door. Immediately after its opening you heard terrifying screams, one that could only be riveled by women in labor. Quickly making your way down the three small steps and into the leaky dark cellar you followed the sounds of the screams. They become louder and more deafening as you near a door at the end of the long tunnel, light being cast through the cracks. The guards outside of the door moved to stop you, nearly grabbing you up before Joong or Heeseung’s footman came to stop them. Silently the guards turned to Heeseung’s footman with questioning glances. The footman sighed, “Let the queen in, she wishes to speak with the king.”  Without any further instructions the doors were pushed open by the two guards. The sight of the room made you sick. It was dirty and there were rats and roaches everywhere. Just barely standing in front of a throne-like chair in the middle was Heeseung, head down and nodding out. His feet were plunged into a vat of steaming water. He was clothed in simple white sleeping bottoms, a thick sheen of sweat covering him as his hair stuck down to his forehead. The palace doctor stood over him, two electrodes in hand and a sick smirk on his face, while two more guards held him up by his arms. The doctor pushed the electrodes into Heeseung’s skin, causing him to scream out in agony. You let out a curdled scream, causing all the men, apart from Heeseung to look over at you. “Release the king this instant!” You demanded, edging closer to the men. The doctor let out a hiss, demanding you to be removed. “No, I demand that you release the king. I am your Queen, and as such you will do as I say or face the consequences.” The guards holding Heeseung up let him go, allowing him to stumble out of the vat of water. You moved quickly, allowing him to fall into you. He looked up, eyes hazy, “y/n my love is that you” His voice was hours no doubt due to the torture he had endured. You nodded, whispering out a small yes as you stroked his head, “Just rest, it’s okay, you’re okay now” You spoke softly to him. Heeseung’s eyes closed as he finally allowed himself to completely nod out. You looked towards Joong and Heeseung’s footman signaling for them to take him. They did so quickly, carrying him out to the carriage with you not far behind. The doctor ran out following behind you, “Your majesty you must understand. All I was doing was trying to cure him.” You whipped around at the careless doctor’s comment, “Cure him? What exactly were you trying to cure? He is just fine as he is. He is a great king and husband. You should be lucky if you are allowed to practice medicine in this country ever again. I’ll have you tried for your crimes against the crown, and it will only be by the king’s hand whether you make it out alive. So, whatever it is you supposably tried to cure him of you best hope he is grateful for it.” You threatened him, before returning to the carriage and being taken home with Heeseung at your side.

 It had been several days since you had dragged Heeseung out of the dungeon that the deranged doctor kept him locked in. Your due date was coming up soon and you were stressed and worried about him. You knew that he blamed himself for the way you found him, no doubt from the manipulation of the doctor. Your mother-in-law had continued to tell you to leave him be and allow  him to stay by himself, but you simply could not bear the thought that he was alone and hurting. So, when night fell, and your mother-in-law retired for bed you and Joong set out for the observatory. The giant doors scratched the marble floor as they opened. Walking in you spotted Heeseung, much like he was the first time you found him here, shirtless with things scattered all around him, newly minted scars forming on his upper body. “Is there a reason you have yet to return home?” you questioned hands coming up around your obviously showing bump. Heeseung looked at you, eyes wide. He stayed silent for a moment and shook his head, “Nothing that is a concern of yours. You need to leave Y/n” he spoke coldly. You mimicked him shaking your head “No. Not until you tell me you do not love me” Heeseung opened his mouth, ‘What does that have to do with anything?” You stared at him incredulously, “It has everything to do with it. I have heard you say that you wish for me to go, that you wish for me to leave, even going as far to say that you wish we had never married. But you have never said that you do not love me. If you truly do not, then tell me. Because if you do love me then I will continue to come here, every day to bring you home.” Heeseung’s face fell, frown becoming deeper. Instead of letting him speak you continued, “Well what do you have to say? Tell me? Tell me you do not love me, and I will go. I will never return; I will have our baby on my own and only come around when my position calls for another one. We can spend the rest of our lives apart.” Heeseung’s eyes clouded, and he stood from his position, drawing closer to you. “My heart is only for you; it calls your name day and night. It yearns for you whenever you are away. I cannot breathe without you here. I have loved you, desperately, so from the moment I first seen you in the garden. You are the only one for me, but you don’t need my broken parts. You don’t need the me that cannot give you a perfect man to love.”  Your head snapped up as you responded “And do you believe that mine does not? Do you truly believe that I would not love every single part of you? Do you think so lowly of me?” Heeseung cuts you off, “Of course I do not think lowly of you, you are the most magnificent person I have ever had the pleasure to known. But- “you shook your head, grabbing him and pulling him to you, being careful of you protruding belly, “Then that is all we need to know, I love you and you love me.” Kissing him deeply you speak again, “I will forever be by your side, I will love you through your good days; and I will love you through your bad ones too. I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you, all of you, if you let me.” Tears cloud your eyes as you stare up at him, blinking them away they trail down your face. Heeseung looks at you, face fallen and eyes sad. He snakes his hands up to your face, wiping your tears away, “Only if you let me do the same.” With a nod you kiss him deeply again, hugging him tightly to you as his arms wrap around you. Finally, you feel at ease with being in his arms.

The day had finally came. Sharp pains shot through you as you laid down in bed, your lady’s maid beside you gripping onto your hand tightly. Another lady’s maid sat at the end of the bed, instructing you to keep your legs up and opened as she carefully checked on the baby. You heard your husband screaming at someone for a doctor, telling them that is what you needed. With each second the searing pain became worse, crying, you called out to your husband. In a matter of seconds, he came barreling through the door a doctor in tow. The doctor took over for the lady’s maid down at the foot of your bed, proving his own check and giving your husband a nod. Heeseung kneeled at your side, allowing you to grip his hand as hard as you needed. Effectively taking place of the First Ladies maid. “You are doing splendid my darling, there is no need to be panicked. Just relax my dear girl, relax.” Heeseung hummed into your sweat drenched hairline, placing a gentle kiss when he finished, “Just give it time, our child will soon see the world all thanks to you.” You gave him a halfhearted smile before another scream of pain left you. The doctor took a deep breath, “your majesties, it is time. You need to start pushing. The baby is ready.” With a nod you started, the pain becoming worse than before. Heeseung sat by you the entire time and made sure you were taken care of after the birth. When you were finally done the doctors and ladies maids took the baby and cleaned him up. Several minutes later you were met with your newborn being laid out in your chest. You smiled at Heeseung, looking over and seeing his eyes filled with so much love and joy. It was at that moment you knew that you would do anything for the two of them. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

Only seven months after your first baby had you gotten pregnant with another one. You and Heeseung were very excited. You were happy to say the least that your little family kept growing with nothing but love and support. One day you were in the garden, watching as Heeseung threw around weeds and dead flowers, helping with the landscaping. Your now five children had sat below you at your feet begging for a story. You giggled and picked up your oldest, nuzzling into him causing him to giggle back. “Now have I ever told you about the princess and the king?” You asked knowing what the several children’s answers would be. Little hands raised up as they all nodded, “yes yes but we want to hear it again!” Their little voices boomed across the garden. Heeseung head peaks up, nodding to you as he came and took a seat down next you. “Well, you see there was this beautiful princess who was set to get married. She was deathly afraid that her new husband was going to be a troll or a beast,” you started, sniffing your laughter. Heeseung rolled his eyes gently before continuing with your story, “but before she could escape, the king had found her trying to go over the garden wall.” “Of course, the princess didn’t know it was him at first and even tried to get him to help her escape” you interrupted him.  The children nodded along with the story, their smiles becoming wider as they watched you and Heeseung stare at each other. Heeseung took ahold of your hand as he continued the story, “but it was too late, as it was from that moment that the king knew she would be very special to him and he to her. He knew that she would be the one thing to save him from all else” Heeseung eyes glanced around the children taking in their wide and beautiful smile as he kissed the back of your hand.

Sure, your story was not perfect. It was filled with ups and downs, tragedy and pain. But over everything else it was true and the love you held for one another would never die. It was an eternal flame flickering even in the strongest of winds. It was the light that peaked out of the door at the end of a dark and damp corridor. It was hiding together and living together. It was understanding and compassionate. But most importantly it was yours and that’s all that truly mattered.

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

❀❀❀ taglist (for enha as a bridgerton story) - @lol6sposts @signed-manny @peonywon @rayofsunshineeee @renchai @lwavander @jaeyunzlovr @eneiyri @moonchild-moonfairy @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @strxwbloody @yeonjinnie @firstclassjaylee @laurradoesloveu @smouches @baekxo07 @channiesdarling @microwavedstrawberr1es @jjaeyuns @penny44224 @sseishiross @heesitation @jakedoxxenvasion @jaklvbub @sunus-sun @sunwoniie @hybeboyenthusisast @dollschan @randomanothercreature @nctislifue @nanaheex @addictedtohobi @wolfhardbby @papichulomacy @monstaxdirtywonk @koizekomi @august25 @yaksokhaley @sofesyoongi @pinkkami @peytonthedino @onlyseungkwans @hotchwheels @icedtealeaf (i think i got everyone lmk if i missed you!!)

‼️‼️ ©️ @candysunoo 2024 DO NOT copy, repost or translate without permission ‼️‼️

[maskedbyghost]

arranged marriage with simon is everything! can you bless us with more thoughts about them? lyy

i wanted to write about this for a few days so i hope you like it :)

the mission’s over. it’s finally done. everything that brought you and simon together under the pretense of an arranged marriage has wrapped up. now, you’re both standing in captain price’s office, watching as he slides a stack of papers across his desk—divorce papers.

“well, that’s that,” price mutters, not quite meeting either of your eyes. “once you two sign these, we can close this chapter. clean break, like we agreed.”

you nod, but your throat feels tight, and your hands won’t move. you’re standing beside simon, close enough to feel the tension radiating off him, but neither of you says anything. price lingers for a moment, clearly sensing the awkwardness in the air, but he doesn’t push. he just nods to both of you and heads out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

the silence that follows feels suffocating. the divorce papers sit on the desk, staring up at you like a cruel reminder of what’s supposed to come next.

but you don’t reach for the pen. neither does simon.

you just stare at the papers. it should be easy—this was always meant to be temporary. but the thought of signing them makes your stomach churn. you can’t imagine not having simon by your side anymore, not after everything you’ve been through. and yet, you don’t know how to say it out loud.

you glance over at simon, and he’s looking right at you. his dark eyes are searching your face, trying to figure out what you’re thinking. his hand twitches, he looks at you like he’s about to say something, but the words don’t come.

instead, he just steps closer, his gaze flicking between you and the papers on the desk. and when he sees that you’re not moving, not signing, something in his expression shifts. a flicker of realization.

without a word, simon grabs the divorce papers and, in one swift motion, pulls out a lighter from his pocket. your heart races as you watch him flick it open, the flame catching the edge of the papers. they burn slowly at first, but then the fire spreads, curling the pages into ash as they drop to the floor.

you don’t say anything. you’re too stunned to react. but simon turns to you, his eyes blazing with an intensity you haven’t seen before. he steps forward, closing the distance between you, and when he’s just inches away, he cups your face in his hands.

“you’re not leaving me,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm. his thumb brushes your cheek, his touch warm against your skin. “ever.”

you swallow hard, your breath catching in your throat. “simon—”

“no,” he interrupts softly, but there’s no anger in his tone. just raw determination. “you’re mine, love. this… this isn’t ending.”

and then he kisses you.

he’s pouring every unsaid word, every unspoken feeling into that kiss. you melt into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as if he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality. because, in a way, he is.

when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and his breath is warm against your lips. “we’re not signing anything,” he whispers. “i don’t care what anyone says. you’re my wife. that’s not changing.”

you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “good,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “because i wasn’t going to sign them either.”

simon smirks, his hands still cradling your face. “figured as much.”

the mission might be over, but this—whatever this is between you and simon—is just beginning.

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

MY TURN NOW GOD PLEASE

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [two]

the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.

genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.1k

chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.

a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.

Jungkook

During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.

Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.

If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.

He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.

Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.

This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.

It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?

On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.

Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.

This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.

The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.

Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.

“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”

“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”

“Oh god this man will be my death”

“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”

God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.

She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.

“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.

Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.

Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”

“He’ll understand”

Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”

Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”

He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.

“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."

“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.

He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.

He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.

“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.

He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”

He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”

Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”

“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”

He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”

Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.

After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.

Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.

However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.

Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.

He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”

A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”

The guys break out in fits of laughter.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,

“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”

From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.

The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.

Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.

“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.

The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.

“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.

“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.

Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”

Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.

“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.

“What do you think?”

“What?”

“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.

“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.

He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.

The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.

The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin’s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.

Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”

He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.

Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”

You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.

“It is”

Your smile drops, “Huh?”

“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”

Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.

“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”

He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.

“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.

Well, knock me down with a feather.

Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”

You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.

Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.

He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.

Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.

“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”

The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.

“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”

He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.

Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.

“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”

A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.

“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”

Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.

It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?

“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”

Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.

You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”

You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.

“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."

A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”

The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.

You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”

He holds your gaze. “What favor?”

You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”

He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”

With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.

You flinch. “Jungkook?”

He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.

He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”

You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”

You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.

“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”

No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.

He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”

“Wait, really?”

Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.

Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.

“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.

His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.

When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.

Wait what?!

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.

“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”

You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.

“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”

He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.

“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”

His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.

“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.

That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.

You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.

“Destiny”

You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.

“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook

Jungkook is dying. 

Figuratively, of course.

He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.

Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that. 

He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.

Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe. 

When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.

He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can. 

Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.

“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook. 

He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves. 

“Jungkook? Is everything okay?” 

Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.

He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.” 

She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”

He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die. 

When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.

He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.

What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.

“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?” 

“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.” 

She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office” 

As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys. 

“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something” 

She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity. 

“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?” 

“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night” 

She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating? 

Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about” 

“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.

“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”

“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry” 

She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something. 

“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”

He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”

“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee. 

His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it? 

“It was uh okay” 

Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.

When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones. 

Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?

She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that. 

He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.

Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.

“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”

Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.

Can he catch a break?

Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)