#point is : I really need to make a new plot line Tumblr posts

[dawn-moths]

"I'm So Dreadful, But I Still Need You"

Werewolf!Dabi x Female Reader

word count: 16,300+

part 1 * part 2 * part 3

(As Keigo closes in, you and Dabi dream of foreign lands, of places where you could be free to love each other in peace. But the hunter is relentless, vowing never to stop the chase until he’s claimed you from the wolf’s vile clutches, dead or alive. So the only question that remains is… who will emerge victorious in the end? The hunter or the prey?)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! title taken from “RUINED” by WesGhost, size difference, reader is called “baby, good girl”, yandere Keigo, character death, some smut in the middle but mostly plot, some descriptions of body horror towards the end, reader is choked (and not in a fun way).

*ao3 mirror*

***

Dabi sat at the tavern’s bar counter, a half drunk pint slowly warming in its stein as he abandoned the idea of finishing his drink and instead became mesmerized by you— watching, guarding, protecting you from afar while you basked in the reverie of your fourth face-paced dance of the night.

You kept up with the quick yet precise patterns of the intricate footwork, your skirts bunched in your fists and slightly lifted to allow you more room to jig alongside the crowd of boisterous patrons, some stray men lining the walls shouting hoots and hollers towards the circle of dancers as the fiddle player picked up the tempo, other onlookers clapping in time with the beat to encourage all of those inhabiting the dancefloor to continue until the end of the song. When the final note rang out, the human circle in which you’d found yourself ensnared ceased its motion, everyone turning to face the outside of the ring and clapping with their hands over their heads.

When you turned, you were facing Dabi, seeing him staring at you from the barstool a few feet away. His patches of pale, scarred skin were bathed in a low amber glow from the lanterns hanging overhead, that entrancing cobalt gaze shimmering with mirth. There were no pointed ears perched upon his inky black spikes nor was there a mischievous ebony tail swishing at his heels. Tonight was the new moon, one of the handful of nights clustered together in the month where the notorious wolfman was free to see what life could’ve been like if only he’d been granted a different fate.

And he was smiling. Really, truly smiling. It took your breath away, the way he was looking at you now, like you were the only thing in his entire world worth protecting, like he loved you. 

And maybe he did.

It was just too bad he’d never be able to make himself admit it, that he’d never be able to trust in that kind of careless hope.

As you migrated closer to where he was perched, you were smiling too, big and bright and blinding him with your joy. Your forehead was shining with a thin sheen of sweat and your breathing was a little labored, as expected from how many dances you’d participated in tonight, but you didn’t care how hot or tired you became.

You knew you had to enjoy it while it lasted.

Back in your devout little town, there was only one tavern, mainly where the hunters gathered to relax on their way out into the woods or having just arrived back, a bundle of dead rabbits or ducks, or, one time, an entire deer dragged into the tiny brick building and heaped in a pile of bloody fur and mangled flesh on the floor at the foot of the counter.

Needless to say, whatever your village had to offer, it was nowhere near the freedom and frivolity this place provided, all the laughter and the lighthearted joking and pleasant conversation between men and women alike filling the room with its joyous melody.

Plus, even though the people back home also liked to talk, it was usually of scandals and gossip and suspicious speculation, so if you were ever spotted so much as peering in through one of the latticed windows to see what all the commotion was about, it was likely word would spread, rumors would start, and you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to pass the place at night again.

“You should come do the next one with me,” you suggested to Dabi, hoping to entice him as you took his hand, his own instinctually outstretched towards you once you were within the range of his reach, still staring at you with that love-drunk grin. You even swore you could see a warm blush to his cheeks, only, you knew he wasn’t actually drunk. He’d been too intent on making sure he could stay sharp in order to protect you if anything went sideways. And, while you’d tried to assure him one night couldn’t hurt, promised you’d stay out of trouble, Dabi just wouldn’t hear of it.

“Anything could happen when we’re least expecting it,” he’d reminded you, the worry of the prey sounding odd when coming from the mouth of the predator. “And if he shows up, we gotta be ready.”

But that had been a week ago and you and Dabi had already crossed through three towns, having hidden on the outskirts of the first one, been bold enough to break into an abandoned farm house to escape the cold in the second, and then, by the time you’d reached the third— the one you were currently in— Dabi had shed all of his more obvious wolfish traits. And, though you’d had to beg him to let you explore, to actually enjoy some of what this place had to offer, he’d eventually given in.

“Tonight’s our last night…” he’d told you, hating the way disappointment filled your eyes, all the optimism in your gaze slowly dying out like embers in a hearth. He’d put his hand on your head, given it a gentle pat as you’d started sulking. Then he’d said, a new lightness to his usually dark and heavy tone, “So you better make the most of it.”

You’d looked up at him then like you didn’t actually believe him, yet still somehow hoped it were true. “Really?!” You’d exclaimed, glittering excitement refilling your gaze. “We can really go out? Oh, Dabi!” You’d flung your arms around his waist, buried your face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of pine and campfire smoke that always seemed to cling to him. “Thank you…” you’d murmured, words muffled by his shirt. “Thank you, Dabi…”

And so you two had tried a taste of what other young people did for fun when they weren’t burdened with a curse or kept cooped up inside a house on the hill. You ate delicious, foreign foods. You laughed with boisterous strangers. You danced until the music stole the breath from your lungs. You allowed yourself to live. Because, the truth was, neither of you really knew how much time you had left. Not with Keigo hot on your trail, knowing full well he’d hunt you to the ends of the earth or die trying.

But there was nowhere Keigo wouldn’t go, no path he wouldn’t follow, no choice he wouldn’t make, if you were somehow found at the end of it.

And so die trying it seemed to be…

***

TWO WEEKS AGO

Dawn broke over the horizon, painting the sky in an aurora of colors, a collision of amber and silver that gave way to the pale blue and gold of early morning. Among the newborn buds preparing to unfurl from the spindly twigs on the early-spring trees, Keigo sat beside the final dregs of serenity and watched the fledgling finches hopping among the natural debris gathered beneath where their nest lay.

They would be soon to leave their mother’s protection, venturing off into the cold, cruel labyrinth of the surrounding woods. Perhaps some would survive into adulthood. Others would fall into the sharp-taloned clutches of the falcons or the hawks. Only the strong would survive and only the lucky would evade a gruesome end.

The hunter stood from his perch among the open campsite he’d constructed, the small fire he’d made to keep warm for the short night stomped out before morning’s first light. He couldn’t have his mark catching sight of the smoke. Not when he was so close to his main territory. If he scared the wolf away now, he might risk losing you along with him.

Enough stalling, Keigo told himself as he tested the tension of his bow string, two calloused fingers curling around thin sinewy rope and envisioning an invisible arrow finding a new home between two flashes of sapphire. A wolf might not’ve been as fragile or easy to kill as a finch, but, Keigo felt confident, the hawk would still prevail.

Keigo began his stealthy approach towards the cabin, every step more careful than the last. He was intent to locate the wolfman, hopefully through one of the cracked windows, knock an arrow, and finish the job in one precise shot. But then something made him stop short, his next breath catching and sure footing staggering as he felt a rush of ice surge through his veins.

Because there you were, sitting at the villain’s table, unbound and of your own free will it seemed, given the carefree grin spread across your face as you shared breakfast with the beast.

Keigo could’ve been standing between those mammoth pines for six seconds, or six hours. In truth, he didn’t know. Because in that moment time seemed to flow in reverse, everything that had led him here— led you here— flashing through his mind in bright bursts of violent color.

For a while, caught in his stupor, Keigo merely observed, his hands going numb as they clutched his weapons, watching in equal horror and intrigue as the wolf sat across from you at the table, a snarky grin tugging at one corner of his lips before breaking out into a laugh, looking for a moment— dare Keigo even consider it— authentically human. 

You know, so long as you didn’t spend too much time focusing on the ears and the tail.

You were barely clothed, and while Keigo perhaps would’ve been inclined to blush under less dire situations, the emotion that replaced his bashfulness was betrayal and rage.

The loose shirt hanging comfortably from your form no doubt belonged to the monster with which you’d chosen to share a bed with.

But Keigo, despite having all the evidence he needed to convict you of witchcraft or whatever other crime that having such relations with a monster and a murderer would behold, still couldn’t quite bring himself to blame you.

Because you’d been seduced, hadn’t you? You’d been lured into sin, naive little Eve who’d been tempted by the sinister snake.

He could still save you.

All he had to do was not miss.

With trembling hands and shallow breath, Keigo drew back his first shot and aimed for the back of the wolfman’s head. He let out a shuddering exhale, hesitating a mere flicker of a moment, then let the arrow go.

The arrow struck home in the back of Dabi’s chair, the resounding twang of the shot causing his wolf’s ears to perk up at the same moment you sucked in a sharp, startled gasp. Neither of you had seen the arrow fly through the open window and bury itself in the chipped wood so much as you heard it, felt it, the evidence you were under attack only revealed once Dabi turned in his chair to peer around the back of it.

His eyes followed the weapon’s path out through the dew-speckled glass and between the barricade of trees until it found the hunter. Keigo knocked a second arrow, this time looking much more focused and determined than he had before, and prepared to fire again.

Dabi’s eyes widened with dread as he stood abruptly from his chair, backing towards you as he ordered, voice low and dark with severity, “Run.”

You didn’t think. Only acted. Every survival instinct you didn’t know you had flaring to life inside you as you sprinted towards the back door after Dabi, who made sure he had secured your hand before you departed the threshold of the cabin’s false sense of safety. It was only when you were halfway down the porch steps that you realized your clothes, or rather, lack thereof, and attempted to go back, but Dabi’s grip on you was firm. He made it apparent by his strength in pulling you along alone that there was no time for that now, lest you wish to leave the property wearing an arrow through your heart.

By the time you reached the forest’s edge, two more arrows were on your heels, and as you cast a terrified glance over your shoulder, the sight of Keigo growing smaller in your vision, watching with defeat and forlorn as the wolfman whisked you deeper into the lush evergreen, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt.

Because what would your family think once he returned to tell them the news— to tell them that their sweet baby girl was caught so shamelessly uncouth with the very wolfman himself, the successor of your baby brother’s killer?

The hunter called your name, and the way it broke with a type of vengeful promise at the end of his shriek made you want to pull away from this path you’d chosen, something about hearing that level of pain in someone’s voice cracking something inside of you, even if a part of you still knew it was selfishly motivated.

“C’mon!” Dabi urged, continuing to pull you harshly after him, the two of you soon disappearing within the piney labyrinth and leaving the distraught, vindictive hunter before the empty wolf’s den. You realized that the two of you would never be able to return there again, Dabi’s cabin full of little keepsakes, trinkets, and mementos doomed to collect dust, rot, and collapse over time if it wasn’t burned to the ground all together. 

But Dabi didn’t care about the cabin right now. If the hunter so chose to strike a match, then let the cabin catch flame and disintegrate into bitter ash.

All he cared about— all he’d ever care about from that moment on— was protecting you.

***

The winds began to pick up as night fell, the dusk-tinted horizon fissured with the last wisps of pale peach as you and Dabi slunk through the last neighbourhood on the outskirts of the village’s perimeter, the sparse little homes dotting the sloping valley hosting glowing ghosts flickering in the windows, the candles placed on the sills likely to burn for only another hour or so before the residents turned in for the night.

You shivered beneath Dabi’s arm, the precursory chill warning of a long, cold night ahead, one that you and your meager means of clothing would suffer to endure.

“Just a little longer,” Dabi murmured, sympathetic, pulling you in closer to share some more of his abundant body heat. “We just have to wait till they kill the lights. Then I’ll sneak up and steal you something from the clothesline.”

In the dim dark, the breeze made the bedsheets and tunics flutter like lingering spirits. The laundry left out to dry was mostly men’s clothing, though there was one modest brown dress among the damp garments, and though it looked a few sizes too big, you supposed you’d have to find a way to make it work.

You just wished you had some of your sewing supplies with you, even just a simple needle and thread. With that, at least, you might’ve been able to tailor it to better suit your figure. Perhaps you’d be able to procure some along the way, or find another innocent clothesline to skim from, but for now, you just had to find a way to enter into the next town without being too conspicuous.

When the time came, Dabi told you to wait under the veil of shadow that had served as your cover while he skulked closer to the house. You watched him cautiously, stealthily making his way to the clotheslines, trying not to imagine a scenario where the cocking of a shotgun echoed out across the clearing before the heart-stuttering blast of two shots rang out as they tore through the thieving villain and left him twitching and gasping, his blood turning the crisp grass beneath his body black with death.

But Dabi was a professional when it came to swiping things that weren’t his. He’d survived the last decade on such methods. This was nothing new. So, in what felt all at once like too much time and the blink of an eye, Dabi returned with a bundle of brown fabric bunched in his wiry arms.

“It’s still a little wet…” he informed you as he handed it over, allowing you to unfurl the garment and hold it lightly against your form to gauge how much excess fabric you’d have to swim around in.

“That’s ok…” you sighed, draping the dress over your arm. “It’ll be dry by morning if I find a place to hang it…” You then considered him, studied those two pools of sapphire that always seemed to glow through the dark. You wanted to ask him now what? What would happen to the two of you from here?

Seeming to read the uncertainty in your gaze, Dabi let out his own sigh through his nose, pressed his lips into a firm line, then said, “I know…” He placed a soft, apologetic kiss to the top of your head, once again gently tugging you into his side. “I know, but we’ll figure it out…”

When you wrapped your arms around him, allowing Dabi to feel your weight sagging with exhaustion, he returned the gesture, more than willing and capable to carry you the rest of the way if you needed him to.

For a while now, he’d realized— at first to his own horror— that he felt more than just lust for you. He wasn’t sure if he could yet call it love. Love was still more terrifying than anything. But he knew he felt an innate sense to protect you, to cherish you and care for you and make sure you had what you needed to be satisfied.

Whether that lied with or without him, he still was on the fence about, but he was willing to fight like hell to prove to you that he was at least willing to try.

“Let’s find a place to camp for the night,” Dabi suggested, and your sleepy nod against his chest was more than enough confirmation of just how badly you needed to rest after such a long, arduous day. You worried about Keigo tracking you while you slept, but Dabi said he knew a place that not even the hunter would be able to find you. 

“It’s not exactly close…” he disclosed with an apology fringing his tone. “But if we can make it that far, we should be ok for a couple days at least.” He spoke of an old boat house on the edge of the shore, a place where he and his maker used to retreat to back when things in the village started to get a little dicey. He promised to make a plan, assured you you didn’t need to worry, but the moment you stopped moving and you closed your eyes, the rest of his words and your encroaching worries were lost to you.

***

NOW

The time of tavern dances and reckless reveries was bound to come to an end sooner or later, but when just two days after your carefree night of fun and joy Dabi’s signature ears and tail began to show the first signs of his dreadful moonlit monstrosity, it was time to kiss the cheerful twang of the bard’s fiddle and the buzzing warmth of overpoured drinks goodbye.

Going into hiding wasn’t anything new to the wolfman, but for you, it was quickly becoming unbearable. You wanted a bath and some clean clothes. You wanted a warm bed and a hot meal. You weren’t built for the scarcity and savagery of what a life confined to the edges of the wilderness beheld and, pretty soon, even Dabi was beginning to become concerned for how you were faring.

But you’d found an abandoned barn a few miles off from the nearest civilization, which, needless to say, was a much better, safer place to sleep than the open expanse of the woodlands. Discovering the shelter had helped raise your spirits, even if only a little, but there was one thing neither of you could deny much longer, and that was the fact that you needed something to eat.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you promised him after he’d finally given in and agreed to let you take a quick trip into the nearest town. You were planning on, hopefully, swiping some fresh fruit or bread from the edge of a merchant’s kiosk while his back was turned and, while you had no doubt Dabi would’ve been able to pull that kind of brazen mission off without a hitch, he was currently indisposed.

“Don’t worry,” you further attempted to comfort him. “If I see Keigo I’ll turn right back around.”

But, while you wouldn’t admit to it out loud, you both knew that if the hunter really wanted to find you, he would. Dabi wasn’t worried about you seeing him. He was worried about him seeing you first.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” he asked for about the tenth time. “I can just keep an eye on the perimeter, maybe see if I can sniff him out—”

“Dabi,” you cut in, sounding half firm, half contrite. “It’ll be fine, really. I promise I’ll be ok.” He wanted to remind you that you couldn’t promise that. Not really. But you were placing a peck on his cheek and telling him to get some rest while you were gone before he could.

He’d been so close to saying it as he watched you leave the barn’s lopsided embrace, so close to telling you he loved you, but he hadn’t.

Instead, he settled for watching you walk into the distance until your figure became an indistinguishable shadow amidst the trees, wishing he weren’t such a coward.

***

This town was much more intricate and lively than your own. From the outside it had been hard to tell just how hustling and bustling the inside became at the height of the day, the high stone walls that surrounded the place blocking most of your view even from the top of the cliff that served as the outlook at the forest’s edge.

Street vendors called out with booming voices at passersby with promises of fairly priced goods and wares, messenger boys ran to and fro with bundles of parchment clutched in their hands or overflowing from their satchels, busking musicians played and sang in the town square, and there were even ladies of the night already draped over the banisters and leaning in doorways of the many brothels that spotted this foreign civilization.

You had to remind yourself that you were here for a specific purpose and couldn’t afford to find yourself distracted by all the curiosities that shimmered from around every corner and turn. You hoped that if you just pretended to belong here that no one would mark you as an outsider. As a lone woman especially, that could prove particularly disastrous if you happened to find yourself in the wrong part of town. However, just when you were starting to think you’d have to approach another young woman in order to ask for some directions, you stumbled upon the market street.

The cobbled paths stretched on for what seemed like forever, the ever shifting crowd moving along like bees in a hive all with a different intention to their stride. First, before you made a move, you tried to survey your options. A little bit of fruit and bread wouldn’t get you far, not to mention you knew Dabi needed to eat too, but you didn’t see how snagging any more than that from the edge of a distracted vendor’s stand was going to allow you to sneak away unnoticed.

And if you did get caught, you had no idea how severe the consequences might be. It could be as simple as making you return it and exiling you from the vicinity of the city walls or as harsh as tossing you in a prison cell or, what you feared most, the loss of one of your hands, as you’d heard rumors of being the punishment for theft in some far off civilizations that some of the hunters frequented during the herding seasons.

You kept circling, slowly but surely studying each of the merchants until you found one that looked like your best chance. He was an old man, appearing like he was just a few more nods away from falling asleep based on how he sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, eyes struggling to stay open as he kept jolting back awake. His stand was mostly empty so you knew that, if you approached now, his eyes would be on only you.

So you waited for someone else to take interest in his goods.

You were just about to lose hope and move onto your next best bet when finally a mother and her three young, rowdy children stepped up to his stand. The two boys kept trying to chase and hit each other with sticks they were pretending were swords, much to the embarrassment and exhaustion of their mother, while the girl, who appeared to be the youngest, clung tightly to her mother’s skirts until her brothers inevitably began to pull her into their teasing little games too.

The old man forced himself to stay conscious as the woman looked over his fruit— most of which was bruised or close to going bad— and chose some to put into her basket after haggling the price down a little. While she was contemplating, you swept in to complete your mission.

Your heart was beating so fast and so hard you swore anyone standing close enough to you would be able to hear it, but as the smaller of the two brothers began to wail and cry, the mother and the merchant’s head turning towards the sudden noise, you quickly grabbed an apple in each hand, shoved them deep into your oversized dress’s pockets, turned on your heel, and hurried away.

To get as far away from the market street as quickly as possible just in case someone had seen you, you cut down one of the crooked, narrow alleys, hands still shoved into your pockets as if the apples would simply disappear if you let them leave your grasp. By the time the end of the alley was in sight, you felt your heart rate slow just a little. It looked like this path led back to the square, and when the musician’s guitar registered to your ears, you let out a breath of relief.

Just a couple more yards and then you’d practically be homefree.

Just a couple more yards and then—

You gasped as a hand, calloused and firm, grabbed your wrist and wrenched you back. Instantly, instinctively, you tried to pull away, but when you turned to see who’d caught you, you froze, your next breath hitching, eyes widening and limbs beginning to numb with adrenaline and dread.

“Kei—” You began to blurt, but the hunter clapped a hand over your mouth and pushed you back against the wall of the alley, being a little rougher with you than you’d expected. 

“Don’t speak,” he ordered, though his voice was low and somewhat gentle given his gestures. “Just shake your head yes or no…” He paused, clenched his jaw, swiveling his gaze from one end of the alley to the other before asking, “Is he here with you?”

With tears welling in your eyes, you shook your head no. You were too startled and scared to even consider telling a lie.

“Good…” Keigo sighed, easing up a little bit and removing his hand from your face, though still kept your body caged between his and the wall, watching you carefully for any sign that you’d bolt. “I need you to listen to me,” he began, still keeping his voice low, more of that dire urgency seeping back into his tone. “Whatever this is, whatever’s happening between you two, I need you to stop. I need you to come back home with me—”

“Keigo—”

“No,” he growled, frustration swelling before gradually deflating as he recognized the fear in your eyes and that fact that he was currently the cause of it. He took a pause, collected himself, then continued, “No, listen—” He said your name and again something in his voice broke with desperation upon it. “Do you have any idea how distraught your parents are?” he said. “Do you have any idea how fucking terrified they are that their only daughter has gone missing?” When you didn’t answer in the space of silence he provided, he made you jump when he snapped, “Do you?”

You couldn’t hold back your tears anymore, pairs of them racing down your cheeks and dripping from where they met beneath your chin. Only stuttered, incoherent ramblings could escape your trembling lips.

You could imagine it, how heartbroken your family must be, how each night that passed where you hadn’t returned home was likely a sleepless, torturous one for them. It hurt you to know you were hurting them. But just going back wasn’t so easy now.

You didn’t know if you were ready to accept that you might never be able to go back at all.

You weren’t sure what to say, but it turned out you didn’t have to say anything, because after another frustrated huff, Keigo was pushing off from the wall and allowing you room to escape as he scowled at the ground and muttered, “Just tell me what he gives you that I can’t…”

And you didn’t feel sadness or fear anymore.

You felt anger.

You felt rage.

“You’re— That’s what this is about?” your voice was quiet, but the fury felt through your words didn’t go unnoticed. Keigo flicked his severe gaze to meet yours, his chin still tilted slightly towards the ground. “You’re chasing us down because you’re jealous—?”

“Of course that’s what—” He scoffed, incredulous. “Do you know what would happen if anyone ever found out the truth about all of this? You’d be tried and hanged for witchcraft. The church would drag you to that pyre, tie you down, and everyone that you’d ever known or loved would watch you burn!” He let out another growl of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as he huffed out a short-tempered breath. “Y’know what, no. What this is about is that you’ve been lying to my face for months. You’ve been lying to everyone around you for months. Probably even longer than that!” His expression changed from hurt to one of betrayal, one of disgust. “And all for what? To protect him? To protect some monster?”

“He’s not a monster!” you cut in. “You don’t know anything about him. Or us. You—”

“Then explain it to me!” shouted Keigo, immediately catching his outburst and lowering his voice again so as not to attract any suspicious or nosy townsfolk who might want to eavesdrop on your conversation. “Explain to me why you’re willing to risk everything— to risk your entire life— all for some— some—” He couldn’t find another word that wasn’t akin to monster in some way, so instead he opted to let you fill in the blanks yourself as he gave a defeated shrug.

You exhaled a quick, curt breath through your nose, then began “It’s not…” you paused, searching for the right words. “It just happened that way. I don’t know… I can’t explain it. I never intended to get so… involved. I— He’s changed, Keigo,” you insisted, looking up into his eyes wearing a pleading sincerity. “He’s not the kind of evil, malicious person you or anyone else in town makes him out to be. He can be… kind and gentle and…” You thought of all the times he’d been so tender with you, all the times he’d treated you like you were the only person or thing in this entire world he dared to hold dear. It hadn’t started that way, of course. It had been terrifying. Exhilarating. It had been something you hadn’t known you’d wanted until it was happening.

And then you couldn’t forget him.

You couldn’t stay away.

You saw him in every flash of blue that crossed your vision. You saw him in your dreams. When you gazed out the window of your little cottage home into the vast woods that lay beyond, you could swear you saw his figure shifting from between the trees.

He’d plagued your imagination until you swore you were going mad.

And then he’d returned.

He’d changed.

And maybe you were still far too naive to think you could truly trust him, but you couldn’t help but try.

“Please, Keigo,” you began again, voice trembling at the edges. “Please just… don’t kill him. If you promise to spare him, I’ll…” You knew that, once you spoke the words, you’d never be able to take it back. But, if it meant sparing Dabi, you thought you might be able to live with that. “If you let him go, I’ll marry you…” You hung your head in defeat, as if you’d just offered yourself up for a beheading rather than a betrothal. Then, snapping your gaze back up to meet his, a new fire blazing within your stare, you added, “But you have to swear to me that you won’t try anything. That you’ll be good on your end of the deal.”

“Does that mean,” he asked, a twinge of innocent hope to his voice, “you’ll come back with me?”

Nervously, you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You didn’t see how this could end well. Because if you chose to return with Keigo, Dabi was sure to become the hunter in pursuit of you. But if you rejected Keigo and returned to Dabi, the hunter wouldn’t stop until his prey was dead. You just wished Keigo would turn a blind eye, return to town with some story about how he’d tried but he’d lost the trail.

But that would never happen.

Not when both the hunter and the wolf were vying for your hand. One would inevitably result in a marriage you didn’t want, even if that meant you’d have a comfortable life as the prized hunter’s wife, while the other damned you to a life of running and hiding, running and hiding, your existence dictated by the cycles of the moon.

“Just let me see him one last time,” you said, feeling your window of opportunity closing in. “Just let me say goodbye…”

Keigo said your name again, and the way it came out as a condescendingly sympathetic coo made you feel that wave of dread wash over you all over again. So when he said, “You know I can’t let you do that…” you weren’t surprised in the least.

Both of you were still as stone in that alley. For a moment, it seemed like only the whistle of the wind and the distant tolling of the church bell could be heard between you.

Then, everything snapped back into razor sharp focus as Keigo darted forward with both hands outstretched to grab you.

He was going to force you to come back to town and marry him whether you wanted to or not.

But you threw yourself out of the way just in time, the side of your arm scraping against the rough brick wall before you were sprinting out of the alley like a rabbit giving chase.

Keigo was close on your heels, but not for long. You weaved your way in and out of the dense crowds, only a few people casting odd looks your way before continuing on with their business, and slipped down another short alley to discover a different way to exit the confines of the city walls.

You didn’t stop running until you’d reached the woods and beyond, your lungs burning and legs aching as you pushed yourself forward yet another wild, anxious step, constantly glancing behind you and expecting to see Keigo closing in.

Perhaps the hunter was skillfully stalking you, trying to use you as bait to lure him to his real target. But by the time you reached the valley that led to the farmhouse and saw not another soul in sight, you figured that you were probably safe for now.

“Hey—” Dabi began as you rushed back into the barn, but the moment he saw the look on your face and noticed how out of breath you were, he was coming over to your side and placing his hands on your shoulders, feeling just how badly you were shaking. “What happened?”

“I— He—” you stammered, tears beginning to sting in your eyes again as you relived the scenario you’d just barely managed to escape. Anything that came out of your mouth after that was incoherent, frazzled nonsense as your sobbing took over. You hadn’t even realized Dabi had taken you into his arms until your terror had subsided enough for some of the buzzing numbness in your limbs to fade and your breathing went from hyperventilation to stuttered hiccups.

He’d been trying to ask you what happened in between attempting to comfort you, but when nothing seemed to get through he’d resorted to stroking your hair and your back, rocking you gently as you clung to him until you’d seemed to return to yourself. Only then could you attempt to verbalize the horrible realization that, had things gone just a little differently, had you not run fast enough, you might’ve never seen Dabi again.

“Ok,” Dabi said, his voice low and quiet, but resolute. “We can’t stay here for long then. We’ll sleep here tonight…” He ran his fingers over your hair again, smoothing down some of its disheveledness but ultimately not doing much to erase the evidence of the frantic rate at which you’d fled town and went rushing through the woods. “But in the morning we’ve gotta keep moving.”

You didn’t respond. Didn’t have anything to say. You could only sag under the weight of the day’s trauma— and all the trauma you’d experienced since fleeing the cabin— and hope that you could trust Dabi to know what was right.

But time was running out.

As much as he was trying to keep the chaos as bay, Dabi knew it was only a matter of time until the hunter caught up with you and the three of your fates were set in stone.

Because whether it was Dabi or Keigo who was left at the end of all of this, your entire world would be forever changed.

***

In truth, he’d let you get away.

Keigo had forced himself to slow his pace and watch as you were folded into the crowd and swallowed behind the teeth of yet another jagged brick alley. He’d stood in the middle of the square, itching to reach for one of his arrows. To knock it. To aim. To take the shot.

To end your suffering before things got so much worse.

Because if he couldn’t have you, why should he let anyone else?

Why should he let a monster lay his claim to you?

You were meant to be his.

He’d seen you first.

He knew, if only he’d had a little more time before you’d encountered the wolfman, that you would’ve been his.

No, if he couldn’t have you, then no one could.

And if he had to be the one to end you, at least he’d know he could make it quick.

He could make it painless.

A beautiful death befitting of a beautiful girl.

And when he took your body, so small and still in his arms, back to your family— When he told them how the ruthless, brutal wolfman had sank his savage teeth into your supple flesh, had stolen your purity, had stolen your life, and by the time Keigo had arrived it had been too late…

He’d still end up as the hero at the end of the day.

He’d become even more revered in your small, pious little town despite not being able to save the life of the pretty girl who lived on the hill.

So, yes, while Keigo had let you go, while he’d lost your trail, he knew that you couldn’t have gone far. He’d find you. There was no doubt about that. But first, he had to prepare something special for when he met you next.

So he walked into the nearest hunting shop and picked out a knife.

***

The hayloft was more comfortable than you’d originally given it credit for on sight. Sure, it still wasn’t a soft, warm bed, but after consecutive nights of sleeping out in the cold, raw wilderness since you and Dabi found yourselves on the run, it was the closest thing you were going to get to some sense of comfort and home.

“Found some blankets in the shed,” Dabi announced after returning from scouring the place for any resources the two of you could use. “They’re a little tattered but should at least keep us warm through the night.”

Suddenly, for what might’ve been the first time in two weeks, you found yourself smiling and, not only that, but giggling as well.

“Dabi…” you began, an edge of sympathy to your otherwise amused tone. “Those are saddle blankets.” When he simply continued to stare at you as if waiting for you to elaborate on why that was an issue, you pushed up from your seat and said, “It’s fine. Either way, that’ll work.” You neglected to mention the fact that you two were lucky to be finding yourselves in such a predicament during the late spring and not the dead of winter, in which case those thin, handmade blankets probably wouldn’t have done much good, but overall just found his lack of knowledge on the subject endearing.

“I’ll keep watch,” Dabi stated once he’d made sure to get you all tucked in and as cozy as currently possible. “Don’t worry about the hunter. If I so much as catch his scent—”

“Dabi…” you began again, much sleepier this time. “Why don’t you just take a moment to relax. If he was on our heels, you’d sense him, wouldn’t you?” It felt like an eternity since the two of you had been able to just relax, to trust in a false sense of security like the cabin had once provided.

“I know, but—”

“Just lay with me,” you cut in, your voice laced with the softness of oncoming sleep. “Just for a couple minutes…”

Glancing over his shoulder at the wide barn doors, ears twitching, tail swishing slightly across the dusty floor, debating whether to indulge you— indulge himself— or do the more responsible thing for once, Dabi ultimately decided that a couple minutes couldn’t hurt.

Even if those couple minutes turned into an hour.

“Hey…” he murmured eventually, rousing you from where you’d very nearly drifted off into dreamland. Your eyes fluttered back open, blinking a few times until he came into focus through the dark. “So… What’s his deal anyway? Why is he so…”

His words trailed off, but you knew what he meant.

“What?” you asked, nuzzling in a little closer to him, trying to bask in as much of his warmth as proximity would allow. “You mean why is Keigo so obsessed with me?”

Dabi didn’t want to phrase it like that but, he admitted, yes, that’s exactly what he meant.

You explained that you’d known Keigo since childhood, or rather, your family had known his— the hunters who’d brought him in after finding him as a baby abandoned in the woods raising him as their own, teaching him to track, to lure, to kill. You said that you’d first met him at the church, that you’d noticed him a few rows ahead of you peering over his shoulder throughout the entire service, his golden eyes always finding yours as if he had something he desperately wanted to tell you, beseeching you with his stare.

“At first,” you recalled, “it sort of freaked me out. Every Sunday he’d be there, a few rows ahead, just glancing at me throughout the entire mass…” Keigo was five years older than you, and back then, it had seemed like much more. As a little girl, you remembered tugging on your mother’s skirts or your father’s shirt sleeve whenever his stare became too oppressive, afraid that the boy had the devil in him and was plotting something against you like the pastors were always telling cautionary tales of during their sermons.

But then, after about half a year of silent, mysterious stares, your parents had introduced you to the renowned Takami family and their prodigy of a son. It was then that you got a taste of Keigo’s more charming side, the easy smiles and polite manners, though something mischievous had always lurked beneath the surface of his laugh.

From then on, your families attended church together, standing in the same pew, breaking bread after service and helping each other out during the harsher seasons, trading your mother’s handmade coats and quilts and father’s extra firewood for the Takami’s rabbit and deer meat.

Keigo had always been enamored with you, had always tried to say and do all the right things.

But deep down, you knew, just like you’d caught a glimpse of during those six months burdened by the amber of his predator’s gaze, that there was something subtly, inexplicably, inherently wrong with him.

“And then he got the idea that he was going to marry me,” you sighed, as if the mere notion was exhausting. “And no matter how many times I tried to avoid him, no matter how many times I tried to brush him off, he just wouldn’t give up…”

Dabi blew out a low whistle, the note laced with sarcasm. Then, jokingly, he said, “So… what? Were you the only girl in your entire village, or…?”

You hummed out a short chuckle, gave Dabi a light nudge, and said, “Sure seems that way…” But then your mood darkened yet again, causing you to add, “But, I dunno… I have a feeling all of this has more to do with you than it does with me…”

The admittance had sort of just slipped out, the thought having been on your mind since your run in with the hunter this past afternoon, your intuition unable to shake the feeling of unease that came along with it.

But before you could ruminate on that unsettling idea for much longer, Dabi pulled you in closer and muttered, “Yeah, well, if he wants to marry me, the guy’s got another thing comin’.”

Now you laughed for real, body shaking with mirth, and you thought of all the ways that Keigo could never, would never, be any match for Dabi when it came to your affections. Because who else could make you laugh like this during such dark, dire times?

If it was a monster’s love that had sunk its teeth into you, then so be it.

You would accept it with open arms, even if that made others view you as a monster just the same.

As your amusement simmered down and your body once again prepared to become heavy with sleep, Dabi remained alert and awake. He knew he should force himself from your tangled embrace and assume his post for watch. And he would.

He just had something he needed to do first.

You were stirred awake yet again as his hands slowly began to wander, the shape of his palm and the press of his fingertips a familiar, welcome thing. And, while you wanted to get some much needed rest, you also wanted whatever he had in store for you as well.

Because how long had it been now since you’d had enough time to partake in these kinds of pleasures?

You were pretty sure you’d lost count.

But, this time, Dabi decided, he was going to be soft with you. If this was the last time he might ever get to have you like this, the last time he’d ever get to have anyone like this, if Keigo succeeded in finally killing the infamous wolfman like he so desperately aspired to, then he wanted you to remember him as gentle, as more than the monster that the myths portrayed him to be.

With the two of your bodies pressed close, limbs loosely entangled as you shifted slightly, as if gently turning in sleep, he nudged his nose against yours, those blazing blues at half-mast as he drank in the sight of you so vulnerable and tender beside him. When your eyes fluttered back open, slowly blinking him back into focus, you leaned forward, lazily chasing after his lips for a kiss. Normally, he would’ve denied you. Would’ve teased you until you were practically begging for any and everything he would give you. But now, tonight, Dabi was content to oblige you.

Like a dying man’s last meal, he was going to savor every kiss, every touch, every inch of your skin until there was nothing left to give. Nothing left to take.

He was going to draw it out.

He was going to make it last so, when the hunter finally came for him, he’d have no regrets if the worst befell him.

Your lips first met with a soft, chaste touch, the ghost of affection reaching out between each other in a silent plea for more. You felt his fingers flex where they gripped your waist, tugging you just that much closer to him, wanting to have you so close he could feel your heartbeat against his skin, so close that your pulse and his own became indistinguishable.

When his tongue gave a gentle suggestion for you to part your lips for him, you obeyed, melting further into the kiss as you hummed out a sated sigh, a breathy moan working its way up your throat. As you relearned the shape of each other’s mouths, rememorized the taste, Dabi’s hands began to wander some more, mapping out the familiar curves of your body as he so liked to do, his fingertips rough but the touch itself gentle, delicate.

You sucked in a small gasp when he groped at your ass, feeling his lips split into a smirk as one of those sultry chuckles escaped him. He couldn’t help but find your reactions to such things amusing yet adorable. It was like you were his helpless little virgin all over again. It made him hard just thinking about it, that first night he’d had you.

He began to strip you of your clothes, the bundle of oversized brown fabric gathered around your waist while he pressed a kiss to your hip, your tummy, then pushed up higher to expose the soft curve of your breasts to him, nipples pebbling as the cool night air brushed up against your skin, then over your head and discarded completely in a pile off to the side, Dabi pulling his own shirt over his head to expose the expanse of his chest, pale and etched deep with scars, just as lovely as you remembered him to be.

With a knee between your legs, he gave one of them a nudge as means of encouragement to open for him, his hands aiding in getting you the rest of the way there when you seemed to suddenly become a little shy.

As his head lowered between your spread legs a shiver wracked through you, a tremor of anticipation at the magic, be it witchcraft or a miracle, that he had a habit of placing upon you with his fingers and tongue. His warm breath fanned over your wet cunt, causing you to whine when you felt just how soaked you’d become, raising a palm to cover your mouth as your face grew hot with the humiliation, muffling your next precursory moan. But that was when Dabi stopped, just inches from tasting you, moments from delivering you the most divine pleasure you’d known, raising his head and appearing above you again, lightly taking your wrist in his grip and tugging it free from your mouth.

“No,” he stated, plain and simple, yet still retaining that err of gentleness that he was becoming more accustomed to displaying around you. “Don’t try to hide it. I want to hear you, understand?” Despite your face growing hotter still, you swallowed down your apprehension and nodded for him. “Good girl,” he praised you, slowly retracing his descent down towards where you were most needy for attention. Then, as if talking only to himself, he muttered, “I wanna hear you when you come for me,” and upon hearing those words you felt your little hole flutter, your belly clenching just at the thought of what you knew it would feel like once he was buried deep inside you, the sensation all too familiar yet, at the same time, always feeling like nothing could’ve prepared you for it beforehand, the ecstasy created by your two bodies becoming one stronger and more potent than any other brand of euphoria the world could offer.

You let out a broken mewl as his long, slick tongue began lightly teasing at your dewy folds, gathering more of your arousal as he made you obscenely drenched with his spit, taking his time to flick the tip of his tongue along your sensitive little bud, making you jolt and writhe, wrestling you still with his arms looped snugly around your thighs. Your melody of moans and whimpers only ever made him desperate to hear them more, engaging in the skillful dance of bringing you right up to that edge but always pulling you back before you tumbled over.

“You’re being mean—” you lightly chided, a feeble quiver to your quiet voice, the teasing soon becoming too much.

But, at this, Dabi only chuckled, placing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, stroking the other with the pad of his thumb as he rested his head against it. Gazing up at you with glittering eyes, he cooed, “Promise I’ll make it worth it, baby…” Another kiss, this time closer to your soaked core, caused you to flinch. “Besides…” He began to leave languid kisses up your body, shifting his position to reach your tummy, your chest, your collarbones, your neck. When he was face to face with you again, the sight of your arousal shining on his chin making your stomach clench yet again, he said, “Don’t I always?”

But he didn’t give you time to answer before diving back into his ministrations, his tongue lolling out to lav at your perked nipples, making you moan and arch further into the warmth of his mouth, Dabi lightly tugging at one of the furled buds with his teeth, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to hear you give him one of those cute little gasps again, balancing on the precipice of fear.

After he’d coated both of you breasts with his saliva, making nearly as much of a mess of you as you’d made of him, Dabi’s kisses once more made the migration towards your neck, sucking a few dark bruises into that tender flesh, your grip tightening around his biceps as a wave of goosebumps raced across your skin, your breath stuttering at the sensation.

Then he was coaxing your mouth back open for him, taking a moment to hover there, to taste each exhale that leapt from your lungs. The kiss he gave you next was sloppy and open-mouthed, and you could taste the salty tang of yourself on his tongue now, only distracted from the flavor when you felt two of his long, lithe fingers glide through the glistening petals of your pussy before slipping inside of you, pumping in and out, slow and steady, before beginning to scissor you open wider in preparation.

“Hurts—” you hissed when he stretched you a little too far a little too fast, but the feeling of your cunt trying to suck his fingers in deeper, the way your silky walls clenched around them as if in hopes of holding them prisoner, only made him that much more painfully hard. He could already feel himself leaking through his trousers. He was just as needy as you were, only better at hiding it.

“I know, baby…” he cooed, unable to keep some of that saccharine condensation from fringing his raspy tone. “But you’re doing so good for me…” Another kiss placed to your temple as he reached into his waistband and took hold of his cock, feeling it pulse against his palm when the cool night air hit the velvety length of him. He didn’t waste time lining himself up, his other hand stroking gentle lines along your hip. “You’re always so good for me.”

You half expected him to bury himself to the hilt with one harsh thrust, as he sometimes had a habit of doing, but tonight, as he’d already decided, he was going to take his time with you. So, inch by inch, he sunk deeper into your slick heat, sucking in a hiss through clenched teeth when your little nails bit into his back at the sting of the stretch, your delicate skin breaking in fragile fissures as his cock split you in two.

Once he was fully inside, both of your bare chests pressed close, Dabi gave you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him stuffing you full, but before he could move, you made a request of him.

“It hurts a little,” you said, then further clarified, “The hayloft. It hurts my back. Can we…?” But before you’d even finished your question he was carefully propping you up, helping to hold you into a position that allowed you to straddle his lap, the shift making you wince a little as his length nudged against your cervix, but you definitely felt more comfortable now than you had laying back against the rough wooden surface.

Letting out a soft chuckle as he picked pieces of straw from where they stuck in your hair, Dabi asked, “Better?” and you nodded, adjusting your position just a little bit more before you felt like you were in the perfect spot to take him. As he began, he kept a strong palm pressed to the small of your back for support, your little hands gripping his shoulders and becoming tighter the more he fucked into you, urging you to ride him to the best of your ability, and you did all that you could to match his pace. But, as always, eventually he became relentless, hips meeting yours with ruthless stamina, drinking in every cry or yelp or moan you would grant him, soaking up every clench of your cunt around his cock until, finally, he came, his body shuddering as a breathy moan was punched from his chest, filling you to the brim with his sticky warmth. But he wasn’t done with you yet. He wasn’t done until he’d made you come, made you gush all over his cock, coating him in so much of your love and your lust that he swore he’d never be able to clean it all away. 

Rubbing some more of those torturously skillful circles on your swollen little clit, Dabi soon worked you over that sharp edge, feeling your body tremble and tense before your weight sagged against him, your shallow, panting breaths gradually returning to something much more even and controlled.

Normally, he’d take this time after to clean you up, to lay with you as he watched you drift off to sleep, only then daring to fall unconscious himself. But out here, in this unfamiliar and unequipped place, there wasn’t much he could do besides wipe the excess of your shared arousal that drooled in thick globs from your sore little hole with the edge of one of the blankets, murmuring promises of the life he’d create for the two of you once you’d escaped the hunter’s grasp as you feel unconscious. 

He’d build you a house. One with a fireplace and a balcony and a back porch. He’d build you a bed. One with four posts and a canopy and a quilt. You’d have a wardrobe full of the finest clothes money could buy, making a living by selling your handcrafted sundries in the market of the nearest town. Your world would smell like honey and pine. You’d spend your days surrounded by the trees and the songs of the birds. You’d get married in the backyard in a wedding dress you’d made by hand, freshly picked poppies adorning Dabi’s makeshift lapel, trading matching rings carved of oak or birch or stone. He’d make love to you on that bed he’d built, on that quilt you’d sewn, every night leading up to the full moon.

You’d bake bread.

He’d hunt deer.

You’d be safe.

You’d be happy.

You’d be his.

But first, before the house and the honey and the hunting of the deer, there was one thing Dabi knew he had to do in order to make even half of that fantasy possible.

He had to kill Keigo.

He had to pave the way for a world where not a single hunter would follow in pursuit of you.

***

The blade caught the morning’s glow, sunlight on silver a burst of blinding light.

Keigo couldn’t help but admire its pristine shine, the flawless edge of its craftsmanship, the way he could view his reflection in it, the amber of his eyes cutting across the weapon wearing determination but also something sorrowful.

He didn’t want to kill you. Truly, he didn’t. If Keigo got his way, you’d finally see reason once the demon who’d tempted you had been slain. You’d come to your senses. You’d accept his offer to return with him and take his hand in marriage.

You’d choose the path that let you live, left your family pleased, and ensured that Keigo had you all to himself.

He could give you a good life.

He would give you a good life.

All you had to do was let him.

And if not, well…

Keigo had always thought you looked best in the color red.

***

The countryside by the shore was comfortingly desolate, the hills sprawling out in every direction as far as the eye could see until the rolling waves of the ocean crept up to meet them. The breeze tasted of salt and the lingering smoke from the small campfire that had just been stomped out.

The old boat house stood on the border between the sand and the seagrass, the exterior half rotted by the caress of the brine, flecks of once-white paint hanging onto the planks for dear life, the decaying wood turned a pale shade of teal. 

It was so quiet out here, not another soul for miles beyond the seagulls that circled come high noon.

You’d never seen the ocean before, your little village too far inland to ever make the journey, even by horse, so you found much comfort and wonder by simply sitting in the soft sand and staring out at the froths of foam lining the waves far off in the distance, nothing but water meeting sky. It gave you time to think, to really put some things into perspective.

You and Dabi had been on the run for over two weeks now. You’d traveled so far, seen so much, and the further you distanced yourself from home, the less you found yourself wanting to go back.

“We could do it, y’know…” he’d said the first night you’d arrived, the crumbling little structure one of his maker’s old hideouts.  “We could head south to the ports. Sneak onto a boat…” He’d gone from gazing at the stars to gazing at you, those half-lidded blues sparkling as if he’d reached up into the constellations and plucked down two of the stars just for you. “See where it takes us…”

You’d hugged your knees up to your chest, turned your view back to the expanse of black sky above, and tried to contemplate what that would be like.

A new country.

A new life.

No one to chase you, at least, for a little while.

But maybe then you could put down some roots, still away from the center of society, of course, but you could create a life where you wouldn’t have to live day by day, hour by hour.

Though now, as the sun rose on a new dawn, you wondered how many days you had left.

“How long have you been awake?”

You turned as Dabi’s voice registered to you. He was standing on the porch that sagged under the weight of every pace, each step surely the last one it would take to cause the whole thing to crumble as it creaked and groaned beneath his feet. He had a moth-eaten blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders, the nights out here so much colder than what the dense forest provided.

Dragging one of your bare feet across the sand, you carved a smooth arc out before you as you sighed. “Maybe an hour,” you responded, your voice just loud enough for him to hear with the couple of meters between you. You were about to approach him but then he was the one closing the gap, coming down to join you on the soft, cool sand.

“I was worried,” he admitted, now standing before you, close enough to reach out and touch. “I thought maybe he’d…” and his words trailed off. But you didn’t need him to finish the thought to understand.

“Sorry…” you whispered, feeling the threat of tears prickling in the back of your nose. “It’s just—”

Dabi pulled you in close to his chest, wrapped you up in the thin blanket along with him, and he murmured into your hair after a shuddering sigh, “It’s fine. It’s just…” He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to say it out loud. How he’d thought the hunter had come and stolen you in the night. But he really should’ve known better.

Had Keigo come around, he would’ve ensured that Dabi never got the chance to wake up ever again.

“Once we get through the next full moon,” Dabi concluded, “we’ll head to the ports.”

And so it was decided.

The next full moon was two days from now— you’d grown accustomed to reading its phases based on the current state of Dabi’s wolfishness alone over these past few weeks— so that didn’t leave much time.

Not for you to decide whether you were truly ready to turn your back on everything you’d ever known and plunge into the uncertainty of what a future with Dabi would hold, or decide this was all too much too fast and return to the damning familiarity of had once been your normal day to day.

You’d tasted freedom.

You were so close to grabbing it with both hands and swallowing it whole.

How could you give that up?

How could you forget all of that in just forty-eight hours?

Though, for Keigo, forty-eight hours was more than enough time to take some drastic measures.

It was also more than enough time for him to catch up.

“The ports…” you repeated, your words sounding far off to your own ears, as if you were hearing them in a dream. It seemed almost impossible to you, this plan that Dabi felt so sure would work. And Dabi, well…

He was just hoping he could convince you to cross the border before you changed your mind.

Once he got you on that boat— currently speculating that stowing away on a cargo ship would be your best bet, even if the journey could take days or maybe even weeks until it reached the next port, Dabi sneaking out at night to maneuver around watch patrols as he sniffed out any food that he could steal— and whisked you away from this place, escaped the hunter who swore he’d pursue the two of you to the ends of the earth…

Only then would he feel like he’d won.

Only then would he let himself believe that he’d be able to have you forever.

“Don’t worry,” he was telling you again, placing a kiss to the crown of your head as he stroked gentle patterns down your back, his palm warm through your clothes, a welcome reprieve from the chilly sea air. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

It was the only lie he couldn’t bring himself to stop telling.

He thought that, if he said it enough, it would become true.

You turned in his arms, your back pressed to his chest, so you could once again face the sea.

Those waves both beckoned and terrified you, pulling you in with every frill of foam lapping at the shore, yet pushing you further away with the hiss of its rhythmic ambience.

Once you crossed that water you’d never be able to come back. You’d only have Dabi and the moon and whatever little life the two of you could manage to make for yourselves after that.

And so you asked yourself…

Would that be enough?

“I know…” you told him, your voice so fragile, so small and trembling, when you wanted nothing more than to look him in the eyes, so firm and resolute, and give him that answer with your whole chest. With your whole heart.

You wanted nothing more than to believe that, no matter what stood in your way, as long as you had each other, nothing could break you apart.

Nothing could hurt you.

No one could take you away from him again.

Yet, every time you closed your eyes, you saw it— that flash of tawny and gold. It haunted your nightmares, crept up behind you between every shadow or sudden movement out of the corner of your eye.

You didn’t want Keigo to die. Not really.

But, you were coming to accept, there might be no other way.

It was going to be him or Dabi.

You didn’t need to take the time to figure out which one you most wanted to fall into the arms of once all was said and done.

***

When Keigo could taste the salt in the air, he knew the sea couldn’t be far. He quickened his pace, the sting of the open blisters on his feet and the pain twisting in his stomach after three days without a meal no longer registering to him once the thought that the wolf could’ve already stolen you away across the water struck him.

Or maybe he’d arrive to find your body strewn across the shore, your blood being licked at by the waves.

He thought he’d prefer the latter. At least then he’d have closure.

At least then, he wouldn’t have to do it himself.

And if he was lucky enough to discover the two of you still there, what would he do?

There would be nowhere to hide. He might be able to finish things once and for all, if he was able to knock an arrow and aim for the heart faster than the wolfman could sink his fangs into the hunter’s soft human throat.

He was so close he could feel it in his bones, this insatiable ache for something he couldn’t quite describe. Perhaps it was the thrill of the hunt calling to him, this new, intelligent prey so enticing to a man who’d pursued the same game ever since his father before him had handed the little boy a knife and a bow and taught him how to kill. He’d learned to get into the mind of his targets, able to trace the path of their steps as if they were his own. With the two of you, he’d been kept on his toes, always trying to predict what you’d do or where you’d go next but unable to get three steps ahead like he was used to.

The swish of the waves mingled with the whistle of the breeze, and when Keigo could tell the two apart, he knew he had to keep moving. He would reach the sea tonight. He would face whatever awaited him at that shore.

When the boathouse appeared in the distance, at first Keigo didn’t let himself believe it, figuring that he’d somehow dozed off and was caught in a dream. Or maybe he was delirious from lack of sleep and food and was wandering aimlessly towards some sort of mirage. But the closer he trudged, the bigger that crooked hut became and he knew it was all too real.

He drew his knife, slinking up to the side of the little house and listening for any signs of life. It was silent, so he thought fuck it and tried the front door.

Keigo winced when it opened with a creak, his body going still and he anticipated an attack. But when nothing came, he gathered up the courage to travel further into the house, going room by room, of which there were only four, and expecting to find a pair of glowing blue eyes peering at him around every turn.

But the boathouse was empty, as far as Keigo could tell.

All that was left behind was a tattered shawl and some empty crab husks.

***

The morning before the full moon, you and Dabi headed south. It would be easier to catch a boat if you weren’t running on at the last minute, and this way you could sneak on under the cover of night when there would be less people around. A few towns back, on the way to the shore, Dabi had found himself a long, stiff piece of fabric that could pass as a cloak to hide his wolfishness. The plan was, if anyone asked or seemed suspicious, you would just tell them that you were traveling with a sick relative who was, unfortunately, horribly deformed beneath that cloak, and that you were setting sail in search of a specialist overseas who you hoped could cure him.

By nightfall though, he’d be man no more, and then the cloak would be used to keep you warm as the ocean’s breeze tangled around your limbs. Dabi would curl up around you, keeping watch while you slept, and in the morning, when he looked just as human as you did though still hiding beneath the cloak to maintain your cover story, the two of you could merge with the other passengers and blend into the crowd. Depending on the length of the journey, Dabi would have to sneak off periodically once the moon became full, but somehow, some way, he’d make sure that both of you were delivered safely to a foreign shore.

He’d find a way to start over.

He’d find a way to live and not just survive.

“Look!” you’d called from where you’d ventured up a little ways ahead, the edge of the forest fading from a cliffside. You pointed a finger out at a horizon Dabi couldn’t yet view, though as he marched up the incline to stand by your side, the sight of the town’s edge lined with vessels— passenger liners and freighters and sailboats— finally revealed itself.

“We’re so close!” you beamed, and it was the first time in a long time that Dabi had seen you smile like that, heard the giddy excitement fringing on your words.

He slung an arm around you, gently tugging you against his chest before reaching forward to twine both of his long, thin arms around your waist. “Just a little bit longer…” he murmured, though whether it was more to himself or to you, you weren’t exactly sure. “Just a little bit longer and we’ll be free…”

And so you made plans to camp out on the hem of the forest until dusk. You sat by the cliff, counting the hours until the sun would set, sharing the meager stock of berries and nuts you’d collected as the sky changed from blue to a beigey gold, and when hints of lavender tinged the edges of nature’s great canvas, the two of you stood, staring out at all the little boats bobbing and swaying and beckoning you on board, hands clasped, hope high, and prepared to commence the final and possibly most daring piece of this crooked jigsaw puzzle of a plan.

Too bad you only made it a few paces before the weathered figure of the hunter appeared between the trees in the distance, causing both sides of this long, treacherous game you’d been playing for so long to stop short, the wolf and the hawk sizing each other up.

Then, just before you could squeeze Dabi’s hand, a silent imploration to him, though for what exactly you did not know, without taking his sharp gaze off the hunter he merely said to you, “Head for the port. I won’t be long.”

Before you could protest even half a syllable or a single sound, Dabi took off running, darting towards Keigo faster than you’d ever seen a living creature move.

Keigo drew his knife and gave chase.

And you, however frustrated and terrified, started in a sprint to follow.

***

With every leap and bound through the uneven path, closing in on the hunter but not quite near enough to catch him and take him to the ground, Dabi could feel the pull of the full moon running through his blood like fire and ice colliding in a burst of cruel fireworks.

His senses became sharper, his reflexes quicker, his vengeance and bloodlust flaring molten and deadly between the grooves of his ribcage. It wouldn’t be long until this curse placed upon him took control and his bones twisted into canis lupus.

But, for perhaps the first time since he’d been turned, Dabi longed to become a monster. Because, when he did, there’d be no chance for the hunter to get away. He’d rake his razor-sharp claws down Keigo’s back, drag him to the ground, and sink his teeth in deep, savor the man’s blood as it gushed into his maw and ran in thick rivulets down his throat.

Just a little longer, Dabi told himself, not slowing down a single beat as he forced Keigo back further into the woods. Just a little longer and it’ll all be over.

Only, the hunter wasn’t keen on playing the part of easy prey.

Keigo was guiding Dabi, bringing him deeper into the darkness of the green in hopes of having a chance to spare you.

He’d give you one last chance to accept his offer and return home with him once the wolf was dead.

If you still refused, well…

At least then no one from the town on the coast would hear your screams echo out across the sloshing water.

The moon became brighter still, cutting through twilight’s haze like a window opening into the silvery heavens, and with that illumination came the protruding of fangs, the curvature of claws, the sprouting of thick, black fur down the nape of Dabi’s neck and along the column of his spine. The blueness of his eyes became bluer still, glowing sapphires slashing through the shadows to pierce his target’s back every time the hunter dared to glance behind him, panic striking as the wolfman closed the gap more and more with every step.

You’d lost their trail long ago, rushing frantically through the dark woodlands in hopes of spotting the imprint of a familiar shoe tread or catch a glimpse of Keigo’s tawny hunting jacket from between the rustling pines. Your lungs were starting to ache, every breath of the evening’s cool air sucked down in short, panicked breaths stinging from inside your tightening chest the longer you went without any sign of them.

You were about to give up. To turn around and hope you could find your way back into hiding and pray that Dabi would be the one who came back to find you. 

But then you heard a scream.

Not a scream, exactly.

More like a low, guttural, raspy growl.

Dabi’s tone echoed in sharp, staccato bursts from somewhere off to your left, his voice sounding pained, like he was in the throes of agony.

And so you took off running again, this time faster than you’d previously thought yourself capable of.

Just before the wolfman had been able to take hold of the hunter, an invisible force seized his limbs, an acidic suffering surging through his veins, lacing through the very marrow of his bones as they began to crack and shift inside his frame, the pain splintering through him like white hot electricity as he arched and bent with the torture of the transformation.

By the time you reached him, he had only a few more breaths left of being a man. You’d never seen him during a shift. He’d always gone away, done it somewhere privately, somewhere you couldn’t hear his misery.

And when you looked at him, even just for those few seconds he was caught in the horrible in between, he could see it in your eyes.

The terror.

And you…

You’d be lying if you said you could no longer understand why so many viewed his kind as monsters.

It was only once Dabi’s haunting hisses and moans ceased that you registered Keigo’s own groans of struggle and dread and revulsion filling the air as he panted through clenched teeth, attempting to scramble up from the ground where he’d tripped as he’d been backing away, golden eyes wide with fear of all that was holy and damned and everything in between.

You’d never seen Keigo afraid and, somehow, that in and of itself was terrifying to you.

“Dabi!” you called out to him, something more akin to concern than disgust breaking at the end of his name. He peered over his shoulder to find you running towards him, immediately swiveling to help close the gap, mindful to let you collide with him and not the other way around, as his current size might do some damage if it crashed into your fragile human form. You threw your arms around his neck, buried your face into his fur, the scent of campfire smoke still clinging to him even in this form, and he could feel your whole body shaking, trembling like a fall leaf one breeze from being shorn from the tree’s withered branch.

A short, breathy whine was sighed out through the wolf’s nostrils and you felt his massive weight sag a little further into your desperate embrace. Man or wolf, you just wanted him to be alright. You wanted him to whisk you away from this nightmare and deliver you both safely to one of those boats, the promise of a new life, a new land, awaiting you. 

But, while you two were having your touching little reunion, the hunter wasn’t wasting any time. He knocked an arrow and drew back the bowstring in one swift, deathly precise motion, the sharp tip of the weapon aimed for your beating heart as soon as you parted from your beloved monster. He took one steadying breath, not a single flicker of doubt or apprehensive shudder to be found.

Keigo had no other choice.

You’d forced his hand.

You’d made your choice and now he’d follow through with his.

Dabi saw the hunter turn his aim onto you, and before he even had time to think he was springing into action, vaulting towards the hunter with his teeth bared as the arrow was set free.

The world seemed to slow around him as he dove into harm’s way, a dozen memories flashing through his head all at once, though still seeming to draw out and take their time. He remembered the first time he lay eyes on you, so enticing and vulnerable as you’d waded your way through the fog, the fur of his maker wrapped around your pretty neck, the look of terror you’d worn when he sang your lullaby back to you and you’d spotted the glow of his eyes through the trees.

He remembered how he’d terrorized you, chasing you through the woods, his cruel laughter ringing out and startling the birds from their resting branches. And when he’d caught you, he’d been even more horrible still, earning himself a bite and a cut from the knife you’d carried back then. And when you weren’t afraid anymore, that’s when things had gotten interesting.

That’s when things had changed.

Dabi no longer viewed you as the scared little rabbit, the prey that indulged him in the thrill of the chase.

You could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, if you wanted to.

And Dabi’s curiosity of what a girl who was as beautiful as she was fierce could be like— could feel like, could taste like— had ultimately won.

And he’d grown attached.

Because you weren’t afraid of him like everyone else was, like everyone else had warned you to be.

You were compassionate and smart and empathetic and kind. You were so many things that he’d convinced himself he didn’t deserve, convinced himself he’d never experience again since damned to live by the cycles of the moon.

You’d given him a reason to live.

And now, for you and only you, he’d be happy for you to be his reason to die.

“No—!” Your shriek cut through the dark as Keigo’s shot buried itself in Dabi’s shoulder, the arrow piercing his rough wolf’s flesh and causing the beast to yelp and stagger. You watched as the blood shone on his matted fur, soaking it to his scarred flesh, and felt like something in the center of your body had been yanked clean out of you, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.

But it would take more than one measly arrow to kill the werewolf, and when Dabi turned his gaze back onto the hunter, his lips pulled up in a vicious snarl to reveal two rows of sharp teeth, he glared with every ounce of hate he’d ever felt for anyone or anything in this world. Yet, at the same time, he was relieved. Because he’d much rather it be him than you who had to experience such pain. Besides, Dabi was no stranger to the sensation. It had been a while, yes, but it greeted him like an old friend.

And now, Dabi would relish in introducing Keigo to this bitter acquaintance.

Keigo took aim once more, firing off another arrow that, that time, missed the beast by only a hair, merely grazing along its side as it lunged at the hunter. Keigo threw himself out of the way, his full weight hitting the ground with a thud before frantically rolling away as the wolf snapped its razor-toothed jaw where his neck had been just a moment ago.

You’d fallen to your knees, the cool earth curling its damp tendrils around your bare legs, creeping up and up and up until the chill seemed to seep into your brain, leaving you frozen and helpless to watch everything that was about to unfold, the cruel crescendo of these past weeks— this past year— finally coming to a close.

The blonde was springing back to his feet with another arrow at the ready before Dabi could attempt his next strike, and the following, from what you could see, was a tangle of claw and limb, black and beige caught up in a deadly, face-paced dance.

The tears running down your cheeks had stopped flowing, leaving behind salty, shimmering streaks, your eyes wide with fear and hurt and anticipation.

The hunter was holding his ground, even in such close proximity, but what Dabi didn’t know was that this was all going according to Keigo’s plan.

Just a little closer, the hunter hoped. And, with one more luring motion, he had the wolf within his circle.

Keigo drew the knife, raised it above his head, then plunged all eight inches of the silver blade down into the werewolf’s back.

The sound that Dabi let out wasn’t quite a howl, wasn’t quite a scream, but something caught in between the realms of monster and man. You felt a pain in your chest upon hearing that sound, letting out one last hiccuping sob before your body truly had no more grief left to give. You couldn’t even call out his name, to let him hear it with your broken voice one last time.

The wolf went still, sagging heavier against the blood-soaked earth, and the hunter, satisfied with finally claiming such a victory, hoisted himself up to stand using the blade’s handle as leverage, sinking it just that much further into his prize’s flesh. When he did it, he locked eyes with you, the gold of his stare suddenly a much muddier shade, rusted over with apathy and scorn.

But when Keigo looked over at you, it wasn’t with relief.

It was with contempt.

It was with the tired, heavy realization that this wasn’t over yet.

Starting toward you with a slow stride, boots dragging more and more with every step, Keigo flexed his hands and clenched his jaw, his throat working as he attempted to swallow down the final ounces of sentimentality that he held for you, to let them burn away in the churning acid of his stomach. It wasn’t until he was five paces within your reach that you recognized the danger you were faced with and began to scramble from your awkward sitting position on the ground.

But the moment you even so much as hinted at giving chase, Keigo was on you, pushing you back so that your head hit the ground with a nauseous thud and stars sparkled in your swaying vision, giving no time to recover from the rattling in your brain before he was wrapping his cold, calloused hands around your throat and squeezing hard, causing you to claw at his grip as the oxygen was wrung from you.

You couldn’t hear Keigo speaking over the hammering of your pulse in your own ears, but as your vision began to go black you saw his mouth moving, caught slivers of the murmur of his voice in between your asphyxiation

“Why are you making me do this?” he was asking. “Why couldn’t you have just come home?”

Even as he squeezed harder still, the strength of your struggle fading away more and more by the moment, Keigo’s eyes filled with tears, his chin beginning to tremble as he bit back a sob, drops of his sorrow flecking your face as your eyes rolled back and he watched as the life began to drain out of you.

Once upon a time, you would’ve been the girl he’d married. You would’ve been the mother of his children, the beloved wife he returned home to at the end of every hunt.

He could’ve provided for you, protected you, given you a good life.

But you’d gone and burned it all to ash.

And for what?

All because you’d been tempted by the monster that now lay in a heap among the shadows of the trees.

Keigo wondered how long it would take for your bodies to be found and, when they were, if Dabi’s would be that of a human or a wolf.

He supposed it didn’t matter. His job was done. There was nothing left to do now but return to your village and deliver the grim news to your family.

“I tried…” Keigo wept, his words barely above a whisper. “I loved you.”

It was only half a breath later that the hunter’s grip released from your neck, two bruises in the shape of his hands marring your tender flesh, making you wince as you wheezed and gasped for air, the final shreds of mortality he’d nearly stolen from you breathing you back to life one painful cough at a time.

Once the ringing in your ears subsided, you turned halfway onto your side, looking out at where the hunter was granted but one final scream before the wolf sank its teeth into his jugular with a sickening crunch, tearing ruthlessly at his windpipe with a rapid shake of its head to deliver the killing blow. You pushed up onto your elbows as you saw Dabi open his jaw and let Keigo drop to the dirt, his eyes still open, blood drenching his neck and down his chest, soaking dark into the fabric of his coat, running up the side of his face, staining his curls a vengeful crimson.

It was then that you collapsed, though whether from trauma or shock, you did not know. Dabi was quick to return to your side, walking with a limp on his front left paw from where the knife had yet to be pulled free. He breathed in your scent, sensed your heart still beating, and curled up beside you.

It wouldn’t be until dawn, when the moon faded away back into the pale horizon, that he’d be able to change back. He just hoped that, when he did, you’d both have survived through the night.

***

The sun was just beginning to tinge the sky with all its newborn colors when you woke, your eyes fluttering apprehensively open, the light that flooded your vision making you wince and retreat back into the dim, pinkish darkness the back of your eyelids provided.

Your head throbbed and your neck pulsed with pain, your entire being sore with the aftermath of the night previous. You wondered, for a moment, if it had all been some kind of horribly vivid dream, but when you looked further into the field, your sight adjusting into focus, you saw Keigo’s corpse still lying dormant amidst the grass, his blood congealing and his expression twisted into a sight you had to force yourself to look away from, rigor mortis settling over his once handsome features in a grotesque display of death and decay.

You went to speak, to call out for Dabi, but found you couldn’t make a sound, your voice less than a wheeze and feeling ragged and raw even upon the gentlest whisper. You feared, for a moment, that Dabi hadn’t made it either. That he’d dragged himself off somewhere far away to die. But then you glanced behind you and felt at least that part of your panic settle, finding him asleep and hopefully alive.

He was man once more, having shed all of his wolfish parts by daybreak, though was left naked and vulnerable against the earth, the blood from his wounds showing bright against his pale flesh, new scars likely to form on his shoulder his back, flaking rust still around his mouth and down his neck, all the evidence of Keigo’s attacks and Dabi’s victory staining his skin with gore.

But, as you curled back up beside him, moving closer so your two bodies could touch, wrapping your arms around him in hopes of sharing some of your warmth as he’d done for you so many times before, it was confirmed that he was, indeed, still alive.

You could feel him breathing, feel him occasionally twitch or wince amidst his slumber, you keeping watch over him this time, finally able to feel like you were the one capable of doing the protecting.

An hour or so later, when Dabi finally began to stir, it was with a hiss and a groan, all of last night’s pain resurfacing from its rest as well. The moment he laid eyes on you though, all of his suffering was forgotten, all of his worries chased away.

“Hey…” he cooed, gently threading his fingers through your hair as your eyes filled with tears. “Hey, it’s alright…” he continued to assure you, pulling you in a little closer. “We’re safe now… I’ve got you… We’re safe…”

Despite the pain, you still attempted to speak again, but to no avail. Once Dabi realized this, remembered how he’d almost been too late to pull the hunter off of you, he had you sit up, allowing him to carefully inspect the damage done to your throat.

It would take some time to heal, that was for certain, but he had confidence that you’d end up ok. For now though, he told you not to push yourself, not to speak, that he’d take care of everything and get you what you needed as soon as you boarded one of those boats.

Helping each other to your feet, Dabi instructed you to head up the hill and wait while he procured some clothes. You didn’t protest. You knew it was so you wouldn’t have to watch him strip Keigo’s body of his belongings. Because even if he had tried to kill you, it still wasn’t easy to see the corpse of someone who’d once been so familiar.

It wasn’t long before Dabi returned to meet you, now wearing Keigo’s clothes, the sleeves of the jacket and the legs of the pants a little short on him, but seeing as his garments were destroyed during the shift, he had no other choice. Keigo’s body would be left behind, whether for the vultures to begin scavenging from or some unfortunate hunter to find, that wasn’t the concern of either of you.

You had a boat to catch, after all.

A proper burial would take too long.

So, heading in the direction of the shore, passing through the last remaining town that you’d probably ever see of your home country, Dabi used the last of the coins that he’d found waiting patiently in one of Keigo’s pockets to purchase you both some new clothes and, the real shock of your entire pre-voyage excursion, two third-class tickets onto one of the passenger liners headed east.

You didn’t know what would await you in the next land you set foot on, if things would fare better or worse than the situation you’d just escaped, the family that you’d heartbreakingly left behind. But there was no way to know unless you tried.

All you could hope was, perhaps there, you could start over.

Perhaps, there, you could be free.

***

Hello and thank you so much to everyone for reading (and for being so patient in waiting for the finale). Also, happy halloween! It’s always a bittersweet feeling to wrap up a series, especially one I started so long ago despite it only being three chapters, so I sincerely hope you enjoyed and were satisfied with the way things turned out. Since going back to school I’ve been very busy and not had very much time for writing as I’m used to, but little by little I intend to continue other projects of mine that I’m still in the middle of, so please continue to be patient with me on that. Anyway, I want to say thank you again if you’ve come this far and hope you have a wonderful rest of your day/evening! See you next time, byyyyyyyeee! <3

[cathymee]

maybe it's to maintain a sense of tension & turmoil that would eventually reach an explosive peak, a sense of tug-of-war, a back-and-forth to hammer home the ideals they want to deliver and for the viewers to chew on, but although these arguments regarding hiroshi & his stance as a man torn between his loyalty for his country & the loyalty for his Filipino friends and lover is of course important, how they write these scenes & the points they present from this week alone is getting too repetitive...? literally the argument scenes from last night & tonight between adelina & hiroshi is basically the same; the ideas were the same, the dynamics were the same: the aggressive, radical adelina, bristling rage and fear over the injustices she's seen thus far, and the cautious, inspiriting hiroshi, all hopefulness and reassurance one moment as a lover, defensiveness and sternness as a japanese soldier in another. this debate will be ever-present ofc, it is one of the series' biggest conflicts, but it is unfortunately so easy to tell when it is a.) being pulled up as a main topic to move the plot along / be a necessary conflict for character development/introspection / be the conflict to deliver the morals & messages the writers want to send to their viewers, or b.) when it is being pulled up only for the drama and filler to pass the time. like watching the characters sit down to argue for 10 minutes, do other things for the plot for 2 minutes, then sit down again to argue for the next 20 minutes. lol.

[loksthegreat]

what happens to rhaenyra in your story? who's her husband? her children? her role? does viserys remarry after aemma and has the green children? does the dance happen?

Thank you so much for asking!! Alright here’s how I see this going down :

So in my first draft and plot line which is still the one I’m mostly using, cause it’s really well detailed, Alicent still marries Viserys and is as miserable as in canon, however I always thought that the dance was more of a Aegon vs Rhaenyra thing, not the Alicent vs. Rhaenyra conflict that hotd is making it out to be so the main antagonist is really just Aegon, who takes the opportunity to become king, and the great houses of Lannister and Baratheon who are fed up with the crown and don’t want a woman in power, however I recently started questioning why Otto would push Alicent to marry Viserys when he already has four sons by Visenya in 106 AC (which is the year Alicent marries Viserys) soooo I think I will scratch that and just let the dance of dragons be less like the canon dance (so no siblings fighting for the throne) and more of a normal war/rebellion (I’m thinking of doing something with the Targaryen bastards of Daemon/Viserys/etc, because I really have a few of them), but don’t worry I plan to write about the generations of made up Targa following Visenya too, and three kings and one queen later, we have a real Targaryens fighting Targaryens for the iron throne kinda situation around 200 AC.

Okay so back to the actual questions asked; I think Viserys will be less drawn to remarrying, since Alicent isn’t actively trying to seduce him and he probably doesn’t want to risk the claims of his daughters, however I think the Velaryons are still gonna be pushing for him to marry a daughter of theirs, which in my story would be Valaena, (mainly because I really don’t see Laena and Viserys happening ever) and since Viserys is a bit of a pushover, I think there is a strong chance of that happening (even though it might take longer, with Otto pushing against it). I have been playing with the thought of Viserys being the father of Valaenas kids for a while, since I already got them planned out, and it would make sense for me cause I believe in the theory that all riders of Balerion struggle with infertility and since Viserys only rode him once, he got daughters, but all his sons died at birth.

Alright now as for Rhaenyra, I see her having a happier live for sure, without the burden of being heir, and with Viserys not forcing her to live the consequences of his mistakes by making her marry Laenor, if he’s already married to Valaena. I’m not sure whom she will marry yet though, in the current state of writing she’s still very much an eight year old so I haven’t worried about it to much. Either I’ll make up some OC she can marry, or maybe she’ll just be allowed to marry Harwin, since he’s a knight, son of the Hand, and heir to his house he sure isn’t the worst match, and again in this story Rhaenyra has a good few sisters, especially if I make Valaena marry Viserys. I still plan for her to have those three sons and then maybe remarry and have more hypothetical kids, cause I still have reasons to kill Harwin and Lyonel. Who knows maybe she’ll even marry Daemon like in canon.

As for Rhaenyras role I am obviously pushing her to the side a bit, since she’s not the heir (I’m sorry I’m trying not to steal her entire storyline and life too much) she and Visenya spend the first four years of Rhaes life completely separate and while Visenya has a complicated relationship with her father, he dotes on Rhaenyra, so it takes a while for Visenya to warm up to Rhaenyra, they eventually grow close a few years before Aemmas death and stay like that until Rhaenyra eventually realizes Visenyas involvement in Harwins death and well, after that things are a bit frosty. Alicent is also gonna be romantically involved with Rhaenrya after Otto is dismissed as Viserys Hand and he and Visenya leave for Dragonstone. So that is another factor that sort of complicates the whole sisterly dynamic…

Wheww, I hope that wasn’t too much rambling and makes a little sense! Please feel free to asks any more questions you have, I love getting to talk about my fav OC and her family!!!

[0o-junebug-o0]

First Meeting

summary: You're having difficulty with some code so you stop by Penelope's house for help, unaware that she has a guest. Spencer takes one look at you and is immediately head over heels.

genre: fluff

cw: meet cute (is it a meet cute?) completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), season 1 spencer, university/college student reader, talk about research and coding, pov switch from reader to spencer

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: this is an actual error I had this summer when writing my spectra analysis code

You lean back in your chair with a sigh, scowling at the code you’re trying to write. You’re still relatively new to coding, the first time you ever took a class on it was just under two years ago, so this code has taken you significantly more time to write than it would have taken Penelope. But you’ve written it. You read through the code again and rerun it. Everything runs fine, the code should work, but it doesn’t. 

You rub your eyes and groan with frustration. You should be able to get a wavelength solution out of this. The professor you’re doing research with told you what you need to do to get the wavelength solution and then how to use it to find the redshift of the lensed galaxy and the foreground lensing galaxy, but nothing is lining up!

You’ve opened the data, plotted the variation in flux for each line in the image, fit a Gaussian to it to get the brightest point, and converted the pixel value of that point to vacuum wavelength, but none of the wavelengths you’re finding match up with what lines should be present in the spectra for this lamp type!

You briefly consider emailing your professor but decide against it. Even though he told you that asking him things wouldn’t bother him and that it’s his job, you don’t want to take up more of his time than you already have. 

You look around your apartment for anything that might help. Your eyes land on your keychain and the spare key Penelope gave you because she enjoys it when you stop by. You quickly shut your laptop, tucking it under your arm, grab your keys, slip on a pair of shoes, and make your way down the hall to Penelope’s apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind you. 

_____

Spencer sits awkwardly on one of Garcia’s kitchen stools, tapping his fingers on the Tardis mug she had filled with tea and given him. He’s not exactly sure why Garcia invited him over. She said she wanted to bond, but they’ve known each other for almost two years now, and Spencer considers her a good friend, so he doesn’t really know what bonding entails. So far, Garcia has just been bustling around her kitchen preparing snacks and drinks for their Doctor Who marathon.

The lock clicks and Spencer’s head whips toward the door just in time for it to burst open. Spencer freezes and stares at you in awe and confusion. 

“Penny!” you cry, your voice a mixture of a shout and a whine. 

Garcia calls your name with a surprised look. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“What?” you ask. Then you wave your hand flippantly. “Yeah I’m fine, I just need help with some code.” Your eyes land on Spencer and he can feel his heart rate increase. He really hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over,” you say. “I can, um, I can come back later.”

Spencer watches as your posture stiffens slightly and you start to fiddle with your keychain. 

Spencer opens his mouth to reassure you but Garcia beats him to it. “No, no, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ve been wanting you two to meet anyway.” You shoot Spencer a small, awkward smile and wave from across the room when Garcia shares your name. When she introduces him, your eyes widen and you look toward Garcia with an expression Spencer can’t decipher and mouth something to her that makes her laugh loudly. 

Spencer can feel himself flushing at your reaction and takes a sip of his tea to hide his face.

“Anyway!” Garcia says cheerfully. “Do you mind if I help them real quick?”

“Go ahead,” Spencer responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It’s difficult with you there, though, all his thoughts suddenly seem much harder to grasp. Like your presence is forcing them aside. 

Your eyes seem to linger on him for a moment before you head over to the counter and set your laptop down. “Right,” you mutter, opening it and entering the password. Spencer listens intently as you describe to Garcia what your code should be doing and he can’t help but smile at the clear passion in your voice. It sends butterflies to his stomach. 

“What do you study?” Spencer blurts out. 

You close your mouth and cock your head at him for a moment. “I’m, uh, I’m studying astrophysics. Specifically strong gravitational lensing. I’ve already made preliminary models of the system and I’m just working on analyzing the spectra now.”

Spencer nods and leans over to look at your code. 

“Do you want to help Penny find the issue?” you ask. You sound a bit nervous and Spencer looks up and smiles what he hopes is a soothing smile.

“I would if I could. I really don’t know how to code, though.”

“Seriously?” you ask. Spencer cocks his head at the tone of surprise in your voice. “Sorry, it’s just that Penny has told me a lot about you and about how you’re a genius and have three PhDs, which is insanely impressive by the way, so I guess I’m just surprised you don’t know something.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” Spencer admits. “Coding and other technological things are some of it. I don’t know too much about astrophysics either.” That’s not exactly true but it isn’t a lie either. He’s read papers on several astrophysical topics but he’s never come across one on strong lensing before. But the truth of the statement is irrelevant, the only reason he said it was to find an excuse to spend more time with you.

You smile and Spencer’s stomach feels like it does a backflip. “I won’t be much help teaching you how to code, Penny would be better for that, but I can tell you about some astro stuff at some point.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Garcia teases and Spencer’s face burns. “Let’s focus.” You nod, clearly also a bit embarrassed, and turn back to your laptop.

“How about I go line by line and tell you what it should do and you let me know if something doesn’t do what I think it does,” you say. Garcia nods and both she and Spencer follow along as you point to and describe each line of code. You get to a printed image of the data file you’re analyzing before Garcia stops you.

“Can you open the file on your computer?” she asks.

You nod and open the file in a new application and move it so it’s side by side with the image in your code. “Wait,” you mutter, glancing back and forth between the two images. “Is that seriously the issue?” Spencer leans forward to get a closer look, the x-axes of the images are flipped. 

You throw your head back with a groan and change the rotation of the file in your code. “I swear, if this works,” you growl. The clear exasperation in your tone makes Spencer chuckle slightly. 

You rerun the code and compare several of the outputs to a list of wavelengths before groaning again and letting your head fall onto the counter. “I hate Python,” you grumble. “Why does it have to switch the axes!” 

Garcia laughs and pats you on the back. You raise your head off the counter and tap your forehead against her shoulder in a gesture Spencer assumes expresses gratitude. “Thanks, Penny,” you sigh. “You’re the best.”

“Of course I am!”

“Oh, and Spencer,” you say, turning to look at him. “We should get lunch sometime. I can tell you about astrophysics and you can tell me about all the crazy things you know.”

“I-I would love that,” Spencer stutters, unable to speak clearly with you looking into his eyes. He's hardly able to wrap his head around the fact that someone as beautiful as you would want to spend more time with him. Spencer's not sure whether you’re asking him on a date or just to go out as friends, but he doesn’t care either way as long as he gets to spend more time with you.

“Great!” you say happily. You stand and cross the room to quickly grab one of Garcia’s pens before returning. You hold the fluffy pink pen with a smile on your face and hold out your hand for his. “May I?” you ask. 

Spencer’s eyes widen and he nods, setting his hand in yours despite his usual aversion to touch. The contact makes his heart feel like it’s about to burst from his chest. You scrawl your number across the back of his hand before handing Spencer the pen and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He writes his number on your hand and watches in a sort of daze as you gather your computer and keys and wave goodbye before leaving.

Spencer jumps slightly as Garcia ruffles his hair. He looks over at her to see a knowing smile on her face. Spencer blushes and hides his face in his hands. “Shut up,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“No way,” she laughs. “Derek’s going to have a field day with this. Boy genius has a crush!”

_____

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[nottsangel]

oh oH OH but i need matteo, theo and enzo to be extremly frustrated and jealous when they noticed that we do bring home some guys!! like they're trying so hard to act nonchalant and like they don't care at all BUT they're secretly seething and plotting how they can stop us from getting any because how dare we?? we have three premium dicks at home, we don't need mediocre dick from the street heLLOOO

new girl au — in which you live with theodore, mattheo and lorenzo

“you gotta be quiet, okay? my roommates are fucking annoying and i really want to avoid them.” you whisper urgently to cedric as you slowly turn the creaky handle of the front door, carefully opening it and swiftly dragging him inside. from the kitchen, you hear theo, mattheo and enzo’s loud voices, overlapping as they chat and laugh uncontrollably, the noise echoing through the apartment.

“go that way.” you whisper again, pointing as you tip-toe nervously toward your bedroom while tightly gripping cedric’s hand to guide him. you hold your breath, tense with anticipation, desperately trying not to make a sound. and you think you’ve succeeded— until you hear mattheo’s nagging voice.

“so you’re not even going to introduce your new friend to us?” you groan in frustration, slowly turning on your heel before forcing a bright, yet clearly fake smile. “oh! i didn’t know you guys were home.” “bullshit.” theo mutters under his breath, making you roll your eyes in sheer annoyance.

“anyway, this is cedric. now, if you guys don’t mind—” “cedric, huh? welcome to our glamorous house. make yourself at home.” lorenzo says in the laziest, most indifferent tone, not even bothering to look at cedric.

then mattheo chimes in, his voice dripping with mocking amusement, “you’re like the fifth guy he’s had to say that to this week, so he’s a bit tired of it already, y’know.” your eyes widen in surprise, and your lips form a thin, displeased line while feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“what!? that— that’s not even true! cedric, don’t listen—”

“yeah, she’s fucking a guy in there like every night. we’re barely getting any sleep these days.” theo adds with a derisive chuckle, sarcastically winking at you as he takes a sip from his drink.

“and she doesn’t just fuck guys from outside these walls, if you know what i mean. but i’m sure she told you.” lorenzo smirks cockily, a self-satisfied and arrogant expression plastered on his face. at this point, you see red as you glare at each of them with narrowed eyes and your jaw tightly clenched, while cedric stands awkwardly by your side, giving you an uneasy and uncomfortable smile.

“uhm, hey… guys. nice to meet you. it’s— it’s a nice apartment you have.”

“cedric, you can go to my room. i’ll be there in a bit, okay?”

it’s dead silent as you’re glaring daggers at the boys, your arms folded tightly across your chest, before you finally hear your bedroom door click shut. “I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD! what the FUCK is wrong with you guys!? oh my god, i’m so done with—”

“relax, baby. it’s just guy banter, alright? you clearly don’t get it, but he does.” lorenzo explains nonchalantly with a smug expression, but you know he’s full of shit, seeing right through him. you furiously storm towards them and slap each of the boys angrily on the back of their heads.

“ow! what was that for?” mattheo asks, wincing in pain and rubbing the back of his head. “are you fucking serious?! you guys are cockblocking me, you dumb fuck.”

“calm down, piccola. you know we love you, hm?” theo comments teasingly, tightly wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close, planting a quick, playful kiss on your head.

“this isn’t love! pull shit like this again and i swear to god, i’ll kill each one of you with my bare fucking hands.” “yes ma’am. got it ma’am. please kill mattheo first, ma’am.” “oh fuck you enzo.”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[smileysuh]

comfort cuisine

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k

🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)

Prologue

“I’m so sorry about this,” Johnny’s voice distracts you from the breakfast you’re making, and you turn around from the bacon to look at your friend. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep calling you and asking for favours like this-”

“Johnny,” you shut his rambling up with a pointed expression, “stop, it’s okay.”

“It’s not-”

“John,” you repeat, “seriously, we’re good. Given… the circumstances, I honestly don’t mind.”

The circumstances… neither of you can bring yourselves to say it. You know that if you say it… if you say ‘I don’t mind helping out since the death of your wife’ Johnny will just about break down, and he doesn’t have time to do that, not when he’s got to be at work for seven am, prepping the kitchen and getting ready for the day.

Even by calling this situation a ‘circumstance,’ you can see a half glazed expression overtake Johnny’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, and you take the time to study him.

You think it’s safe to say neither of you expected any of this to happen. 

You’d met him in culinary school- he’d been a young guy, a new dad who’d had a daughter at nineteen, with dreams of opening his own sandwich food truck, ‘like Subway, but gourmet,’ he’d always explained. 

Now, he’s a twenty four year old wreck, doing his best to climb the ladder in the food service industry, mourning the loss of his late wife, struggling to take care of his daughter, his dreams of a food truck long since forgotten in favour of chasing a head chef status to earn him enough of a salary to pay for everything in a one income household-

“Seriously,” your words snap the single dad back from his zone out, “we’re good. I’m making breakfast for Soonbok, I’ve got her lunch packed, I’ll take her to kindergarten, pick her up after- you just have to remember I have a night shift, gotta be at my own restaurant by five at the latest.”

“Five, yeah,” Johnny nods, swallowing thickly and toying with his daughters small pink backpack. “One day, I’ll be higher up on the food chain, and I’ll have better hours- I promise this isn’t a forever thing.”

“It’s an ‘as long as it needs to happen’ thing, okay? Don’t sweat it,” you assure him. “Here,” you take some of the crispy bacon out of the pan, putting it onto a scrambled egg bagel you’d prepared, “you need breakfast too.”

Johnny just about melts looking at the food. “You’re so good to me.”

You offer him a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

One

Johnny swears his age is catching up to him. It’s not even four oclock and he’s feeling tired, letting out a groan as he says goodbye to the nightshift guys and heads to change out of his head chef attire in the staff bathroom. He’d turned thirty this year, and as he looks at his face in the mirror, he thinks he’s starting to see it.

On his way out of the back door, Johnny bumps into one of his line cooks. Mark Lee is pressed to the wall where people usually lean to smoke, his girlfriend closing him in with her hands on either side of his head. Back when she was expo, everyone used to call her Sunshine, but in her dealings with Mark Lee, Johnny’s come to realize that he’s the angel, not her. 

“Aren’t you two on the clock?” Johnny jokes as he walks past.

Sunshine pulls away from Mark, offering the head chef a grin. “We’re on a vape break.”

“Sure you are,” Johnny laughs, shaking his head.  “See you two back in there, better only be five more minutes.”

“Aren’t you done for the day?” Mark asks, confusion written on his face, along with lipstick marks that he’s hurrying to wipe off.

“Grabbing happy hour with a friend, but be careful Mark Lee, I’m always watching. Just because I’m sitting at the bar doesn’t mean I’m not judging you.”

Johnny can hear Mark mutter something under his breath, and Sunshine is quick to try to calm him down, but as Johnny turns the corner to head to the front entrance of the restaurant, he hears the back door open and close, signaling the end of the little ‘vape break.’

When Johnny joins you at the bar, you’re chatting with Jeno, and the sight makes an unexplainable emotion tingle up his spine. Out of all the front of house staff here, Jeno might just be the biggest manwhore, and he’s had a thing for cougars for a while, although there’s only a handful of years difference between the two of you-

“What are you guys talking about?” John asks, taking a seat on the dark green leather hightop stools surrounding the bar.

“Which virgin drinks are the best,” you respond casually. “I was going to get an iced tea, but Jeno convinced me to try one of your new virgin lemon ginger fizzes.”

“That’s called upselling, honey, you should know that, seeing as you’re in the industry,” Johnny grins.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who invited me here, so I figured you’d be paying.” You take a sip of your straw, looking at Johnny with a smirk, a playful glint in your eyes. 

“Are we getting food?” Johnny asks. “I might as well take care of that for you too.”

“I’ve got time,” you respond casually. “Don’t work for an hour, lets get our ‘nosh’ on.”

Johnny can only laugh at your antics, turning to Jeno, who’s watching with an amused grin. Everyone here knows you and Johnny are close, you come here often enough to see him, the two of you catching each other for a half an hour here or there between his day shifts and your night commitments. 

Johnny orders three appetizers off the happy hour menu, two things he knows you like, and one that’s more up his alley. “Make sure Yuta isn’t back there slacking off,” Johnny warns Jeno, knowing that two of the items will be coming from the ‘bottom end’ of the expo line, which is where Yuta runs the show after Johnny’s off.

“I’m sure he’ll pull out all the stops for our MVP,” Jeno grins, typing the order into an ipad. “Do you want a beer? We’ve got new rotators.”

“Don’t bother trying to upsell me,” Johnny scoffs. “House Lager, and don’t fuck around with the foam.”

“You run a tight ship here, captain,” you tease, bumping Johnny’s elbow.

“Speaking of-”

“Don’t try to recruit me to work here again,” you’re quick to warn.

“Damn it,” Johnny shakes his head, pretending to be quite upset about your rejection. He does feel it- he does think you’d be a great member of the team, and he’d love to offer you a dual head chef position, but it’s not in his power to do so, and that fact haunts him every day. Working for a company limits what he’s able to do, and sometimes, even at age thirty, Johnny still thinks about his dream to open a food truck, with you by his side. “No, in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about Soonie’s birthday.”

“Right, she’s turning eleven soon, that’s quite the milestone,” you grin, playing with your straw.

“I asked Doyoung if I could open early for her birthday, it’s a Sunday, I was thinking some of her friends and their parents could come in for a brunch an hour before we’re open for the public.”

“That’s a great idea!”

“Here’s the catch, Soonie was raised on your breakfast food. As much as I try to make things for her, and I hate to admit this, by the way, she always says your cooking is better. So I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come in that day and help me out with all of this. With your skills, I wouldn’t need Hyuck and Mark, it could be just us, and I’m sure we could make a birthday breakfast Soonbok would never forget. It would be like old times, like back when we were in culinary school.”

He loves the way you’re smiling at him, giving him space to rant. 

When he’s done, you cock your head to the side, only wasting one beat before you say, “I’ll do it.”

“Really? I don’t have to bribe you with money or anything?”

“Jeeze, have I ever asked you for money, John?” You smack at his arm, clearly slightly offended. “I’m doing this for Soonie… and maybe a little for you too.”

“Don’t go soft on me, killer,” Johnny teases. “Everyone around here’s too soft these days.”

“Says the softest dad I know,” you roll your eyes. 

“Shh,” he warns, “don’t say that loud enough for Jeno to hear.”

“As if everyone doesn’t already know.”

The two of you continue to chat and joke, a short while later, the head manager, Doyoung, shows up carrying food. It’s funny for Johnny to see Doyoung balancing two items on one arm, the third in the palm of his hand, but he supposes Doyoung started somewhere too, the same way John had. 

“VIP happy hour appetizers,” Doyoung sighs, setting the food down. 

“As opposed to regular happy hour appetizers?” you grin, immediately reaching for a fry.

“These are special,” Doyoung insists, “pretty sure Yuta spit in them.”

Doyoung is a pretty regal man, he’s not one to joke around- but for some reason, when Doyoung is in your vicinity, he loosens up a little. Everyone loosens up around you, you radiate a safe space kind of energy, the kind of energy that makes Johnny’s tense shoulders relax, his smile softening.

“Then I’ll be sure to eat all of this,” you respond. “Tell Yuta more spit.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you. “I’m sure Johnny’s tried to poach you already, but if you ever want a job, you can have his.”

“Hey!” Johnny laughs.

“I’ll consider it,” you grin.

“And I expect a plate of food for this brunch thing,” Doyoung continues. “I’ve heard nothing beats your breakfasts, even though you work nights.”

“Someone has been talking about me again,” you muse, eyes shifting to John.

“What can I say?” He holds his hands up in defense. “I speak only the truth.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” Doyoung insists. “Anyways, have fun you two, I’ve got food to run, our new expo girl isn’t filling Sunshine’s shoes too well.”

There’s a glint in Doyoung’s eye before he scurries away, and Johnny turns to watch the new expo girl practically short circuiting with take out orders on the line. 

“Poor girl,” you sigh. “It takes a certain kind of person to work in a restaurant.”

And an even more specific type to do what the two of you do as chefs.

Two

You’ve been on a few first dates this year, and this one is definitely a bottom three. You’ve had one drink, and you already feel like finding a way to slip out early. 

Initially, you’d been intrigued by dating a man in finance, but it’s clear now that you’re in two completely different worlds- and to make matters worse, he mostly talks about himself. He’s oozing this obnoxious confidence that makes you grimace every time you sip your drink, and not from the alcohol.

Your date is in the bathroom when Johnny calls.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you!” His voice warms your heart. “So Soonie is at a sleep over tonight, and I was thinking about making a Soonbok style menu for her birthday, all Soonie style names for food and such, planning a menu just for her- are you up to anything? Can I go through it with you?”

“Actually…” your gaze shifts to the bathrooms, “I’m on a date.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going so bad, and planning Soonie’s birthday would be such a better use of my evening. Listen, can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address, you can come and call me when you’re outside, pretend it’s a family emergency or something-”

“You got it, I’ll be there right away.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re hopping into Johnny’s car, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“That bad, huh?” he asks.

“I don’t even want to talk about it right now,” you groan. 

“Here, distract yourself,” Johnny hands you a piece of paper, and you realize it’s a mock up menu for Soonbok’s birthday. “This is just a prototype, I was messing around with styles on some fucking site called Canva-”

“I didn’t know you were good at this sort of thing,” you gasp, taking in the intricate fonts and colouring.

“The site did all the work, trust me,” Johnny scoffs, pulling out into traffic. “Read it over and let me know what you think.”

You begin to scan the menu. There’s Soonie Side Up Eggs, and Boken Avocado Bennies, Soonbok Style Slapjacks and Suh Family Breakfast Sammies. 

“I’m shocked you came up with this many names related to Soonie and Suh,” you say.

“I spent my entire shift thinking about them in the back of my mind while I worked,” Johnny admits. “They’re not cheesy or anything, right?”

“They’re definitely cheesy,” you confirm, “but Soonie is going to love them. You’ve always been cheesy, John, and she adores you for it.”

You notice Johnny’s skin turning a little red, and it’s not just from the reflection of the traffic light illuminating the inside of his car while you wait for it to go green. 

You continue to study the menu, thinking hard the entire way back to Johnny’s house.

He’s got a modest three bedroom townhouse, with his and Soonbok’s rooms on the top floor, and the guest bedroom on the main floor with the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is, without a doubt, the heart of the home, and the two of you make your way there as soon as you’re past the threshold.

“I have some thoughts,” you admit, setting the menu down and pointing at one of the items. “Soonbok toast,” you announce, a twist on french toast, “it says here that it comes with a berry compote. I can tell that this is one of the dishes more geared toward others, because if this was really for Soonie, you’d know that your daughter doesn't even touch berry or apple crisps. She picks at the oat brown sugar on top, but doesn’t like cooked berries or fruits.”

“Yeah…” Johnny leans next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “That was the only one I wasn’t sure on, but for brunch, you have to have a french toast option, right?”

“We can still do french toast, but I think every menu item should be something she’d actually love, don’t you agree?”

“A hundred percent.” 

“What if, instead of berry compote, we do an brown sugar glaze type sauce?”

“That could be doable,” Johnny admits. “Should we try to make one now?”

“Can we do it in the morning?” you ask. “Honestly, I had one drink at the bar, I’m tired after a long shift, and I’m ready to have a few more drinks then pass out.”

“Drinks are a good idea,” Johnny grins, already heading to the fridge. “It will give me more time to think about how to make the brown sugar glaze, and I’ll get on top of that in the morning.”

“Exactly. Chef hours are over, we can just relax,” you insist, heading to collapse on his couch.

“Chef hours are never over,” Johnny reminds you, cracking open a beer and approaching so he can hand it to you.

“It’s one of the reasons dating is so hard in our profession,” you sigh, taking a swig of your drink.

“The hours make it tough,” Johnny nods. 

“So does the mentality,” you remind him. “We just… we think a little differently than others. We’re all a little too committed to our work.”

“That’s not always a bad thing, you’ve just gotta find someone you’re compatible with, someone who will appreciate that about you.” 

“Says one single chef to the other,” you laugh.

Johnny clinks his bottle against your own before taking a large gulp. “Touche.”

Three

Johnny is doing his best to work quietly, aware that the guest bedroom is just a short distance from the kitchen as he whips up eggs for the french toast batter. 

He manages to get all the way through to the cooking before you sleepily putter into the kitchen, adorned in one of his spare shirts for when you sleep over unexpectedly. You look adorable, but Johnny can’t bring himself to focus on you as he perfects the brown sugar glaze, careful not to burn it.

“Almost done,” he calls over his shoulder, “take a seat then try this with me?”

“It smells good,” you tell him, pulling out a chair at the island kitchen counter. 

“Thanks, honey, I was up last night thinking about it- had to wake up early to try it out.” He lifts the french toast onto a plate, dipping a spoon into the glaze to coat the breakfast. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“The smell did,” you muse, grinning as he brings the french toast toward you, setting it down and opening a drawer to retrieve two sets of utensils.

The two of you cut into the toast, and you lift your fork. “Cheers,” you grin, and Johnny touches his food to your own before you both go in for a bite. 

The french toast is cooked to perfection, and although the brown sugar glaze is a little sweet for his liking, Johnny knows Soonie’s sweettooth will appreciate this adjustment to the recipe.

But when Johnny lifts his gaze to you, he sees apprehension in your eyes. “Did you like it?” he enquires.

“It’s really good, don’t get me wrong,” you assure him quickly, “I just think… maybe it’s missing one or two things.”

“Like what?”

“Mmm…” you cock your head to the side, “we both know Soonbok is a fan of nuts, peanut butter is her usual go to but she likes others too- what if we finely chop some pecan or walnut and add that in somehow?”

“That could work,” Johnny nods. 

“Do you mind if I take a crack at it?” you ask. 

Johnny laughs. There are very few people he’ll allow to use his kitchen, and luckily you’re the one at the top. You’ve been cooking here for so many years that he doesn’t have to guide you to anything, you stand up and immediately go in search of details to make your french toast masterpiece come to life, and Johnny happily takes a back seat while he finishes his own creation.

You go for a bag of pecans, dumping a small amount onto a cutting board before you begin to finally chop, leaving an array of different sizes of chunks. Soonie has always been a texture specific child, and Johnny loves how you incorporate all the little quirks of his daughter into your cooking like this.

In a pan with some butter, you begin to toast the nuts, getting prepped on your bread by using the already made batter he’d created earlier. As you put the toast into the pan and check the nuts, you cock your head to the side again, an endearing trait you do when you’re thinking.

“What about oats?” you suggest. 

“Do whatever you think is best,” Johnny encourages you, heading to the fridge to grab some orange juice and a nearly empty bottle of prosecco he’d opened for a recipe two nights ago.

Johnny watches you add oats to the browning pecans while he makes mimosas, and in no time at all, you’re plating the french toast, with a spoonful of the newly toasted additions, and a few spoonfuls of brown sugar glaze.

“There,” you announce, bringing the food to the table. “I added a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar to the buttered nuts and oats while you were making drinks.”

“Cheers,” Johnny grins, lifting a forkful of your creation to gently touch it to your own.

As soon as he bites into it, Johnny knows that this is a winner. The crunch of the nuts, and the oats- the added fats of the butter- the slight taste of cinnamon on the toppings- 

“Wow,” he breathes, leaning back in his chair. “Soonie really wasn’t joking when she said you’re the best breakfast chef in town.”

“Stop it,” you laugh. “You made the glaze! We did this together!”

Johnny goes for a second bite. “This is the stuff that will stick to your ribs,” he muses, not caring that the calorie content was just inflated by the addition of butter and nuts, “Good ol’ comfort food.”

“No, John, you’re a head chef now, this is comfort cuisine,” you correct him with a grin. 

Johnny swears your eyes are sparkling as you smile at him, and it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s times like these that he realizes just how smitten he is with you. You’ve been there for him, through thick and thin. There’s no way he’d be where he is now without you, and he’s not even sure if you know the full extent of it.

But at the same time, because you’re his rock, Johnny doesn’t want to overstep. He can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Soonie lost her mom to a car crash when she was three, and there’s no way in hell Johnny’s going to do something that could potentially make her lose you too.

Four

“Hey, you,” you grin, finishing pouring your glass of wine while you put your favourite chef on speaker.

“Hey, yourself,” Johnny responds, and you can practically hear the smile in his own voice. “Listen, uh, I need to ask you for a favour.”

“Shoot.”

“Two of my line chefs called in today before dinner- pretty sure they’re both hungover or something. Anyways, I’m staying, and it’s a busier night than projected- Soonie is done Girl Guides at seven, and I know it’s your night off, so if you’re busy I can find someone else, but-”

“I’ve got you,” you interrupt him. “Girls night with my favourite girl is a better plan than I had.”

“Really? You sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

“I’d say I owe you one, but at this point, I probably owe you more like a thousand.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you laugh, pouring your wine back into the bottle. “Take care of work, and I’ll take care of our girl.”

A couple hours later, you’re in Johnny’s familiar kitchen, making spiced popcorn and virgin cocktails. Soonie wants to be a chef, just like her dad, and she’s getting better every day. You love giving her soft instructions and lending a helping hand on bigger jugs of juice that her tiny fingers can’t quite hold.

Soonbok has a love for all things disney and music, and although this is probably the third time you’re watching it with her, the two of you settle in for the live action Ariel.

While Johnny is primarily a chef, back when you were in culinary school, he used to sing to himself when he was working. He was always quiet, but loud enough for you to listen to his beautiful voice. Like her father, Soonbok has a way with music, and you adore watching the eleven year old belt out Ariel songs.

She’s tuckered out from Girl Guides however, and about halfway into the movie she cuddles up next to you, her eyelids beginning to droop.

When Johnny comes home as the film is ending, Soonie is fast asleep, and you quickly motion at him to be quiet as he steps through the door.

Johnny is careful as he sets his keys and bag down, kicking off his shoes and putting away his jacket. He tiptoes toward the two of you. “How long has she been out?” he whispers.

“Half an hour or so,” you respond in a hushed tone. “How was work?”

He lets out a sigh. “Could have been better, but I’m home now. Should I get this little one to bed?”

You nod, watching the way Johnny bends down to gently lift his daughter off the couch. She stirs in his arms. “Daddy?”

“Hi, Soonie,” he beams down at her. “Did you have a good girls night?”

“Can y/n stay longer?”

Johnny’s eyes shift to you, and a smile forms on your lips. “I guess I can’t say no to Soonie, can I?”

“Here’s the deal, Soonie, y/n can stay longer, but I’ve gotta put you to bed. You had a long day, didn’t you, sweet girl?”

“Uh huh.” Soonie yawns, cuddling closer to Johnny’s chest, and the sight makes you melt.

Johnny carries her out of the living room and up to the second level. He takes some time tucking her in, and then he comes back down to join you, holding two beers in his hands. 

“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.

“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”

“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”

“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 

Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.

“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”

“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”

You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 

“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”

You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?

You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.

But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.

Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.

Five

It’s a pretty slow day after the lunch rush, so Johnny is sitting in the back office with Doyoung while they pick at their food. They often eat together once things settle down, and today is no different. 

What is different, however, is the topic of conversation Doyoung brings up. “How’s y/n doing?” he asks, taking a bite of his salad.

“She’s good. She helped me lock in a french toast recipe for Soonie’s birthday, so that was pretty helpful.”

“That’s nice,” Doyoung nods, “but I’m more interested in what’s going on between the two of you.”

“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, looking up from his schezwan beef noodle bowl. 

“I mean, you two have been friends for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.”

Johnny’s shocked that Doyoung is bringing this up. Out of all of the chef’s coworkers, he had not pegged Doyoung as being the man to bring up relationship gossip, and the whole thing takes him off guard for a moment. 

“We’re good friends,” Johnny says finally.

“I know that,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What’s holding you back from being more? It’s clear how much you two care about each other.”

Johnny looks down at his food, using his chopsticks to play around with a red pepper. “We do care about each other,” he confirms. “She was there for me with Soonie when no one else was, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“So why don’t you tell her how you really feel about her?” Doyoung presses. “It’s obvious in the way you look at each other- a smart woman like y/n, I’m shocked she hasn’t figured it out for herself by now.”

“I think, because of our history, there’s this… invisible line,” Johnny tries to explain. “Things are good the way they are now, if I try to mess with that… I could lose everything. And I wouldn’t just be losing it for myself, I’d be losing it for Soonie too.”

Doyoung lets out a breath, turning to face Johnny. “I get that it’s hard, but, you’ve got two paths ahead of you. If you give it a try, it could either end well, or badly. But if you keep yourself in this weird middle friend zone place, it’s like you’ve created a house at the crossroads, and that will never lead you anywhere.”

“When did you become so wise about love?” Johnny scoffs.

“Sumi has helped me with it,” Doyoung admits. “I met her here, we started off as friends. I’m her manager, so I had my own reasons for never taking the leap. I had my own house at the crossroads.”

“What made you finally give it a try?”

“She was there for me when my dad died,” Doyoung frowns. “Anyone can be there for you when things go badly, but when a woman truly gives her all to making things easier on you- it’s not something that should be ignored. After everything you and y/n have been through, you both deserve to give it a try.”

“How are you so sure she’d want to give it a try?”

“Because she looks at you the way you look at her.”

Six

Cooking with Johnny might just be the easiest thing in the world. You’d thought that, due to it being Soonie’s birthday, maybe tensions would be high, but as the two of you collaborate in the kitchen, bumping hips and easily communicating, things feel as they always have: easy. 

Within fifteen minutes, the two of you have seamlessly cooked thirteen breakfasts for yourselves, Soonie, her four friends, and six adults… well, seven, if you include the Boken Avocado Bennies you’d whipped up for Doyoung.

While there are a number of staff puttering around doing pre-opening tasks, it’s Doyoung who takes the time to help you and Johnny bring all the food to the table. You love watching the stoic manager announce the Soonie-inspired brunch food names, and it’s clear that Soonbok is also enamoured by the shift in Doyoung’s countenance. 

Before everyone begins to eat, you take a group picture on Johnny’s phone, loving the massive smile on Soonie’s face.

As you’re about to sit down, Johnny asks one of the other moms to take a picture of just you, him and Soonie. With the two of you on either side of the birthday girl, you can’t help but think that this feels like a family picture. 

In a way, Johnny and Soonie are your family- but in the same breath, you’re cognisant of the fact that - had circumstances been different - it would be Soonbok’s mom in this picture right now, and not you. These are shoes that can simply never be filled, no matter how much you wish you could.

The thought isn’t one you like to hold on to, and it’s a thought that’s popped into your head innumerable times throughout the years. Taking your seat next to the birthday girl, you watch her try the french toast, her eyes lighting up.

On top of her own food, Soonie picks at yours and Johnny’s. Both of you are more than happy to share so she can taste more than just one of the special items Johnny had concocted for her. 

Brunch is full of laughter and girlish giggles that light up the deserted restaurant. It’s clear how important Johnny has made Soonie feel today, and that brings you more joy than you could ever express out loud. 

As things wind down, you and Johnny begin clearing plates to the dishpit. The two of you are shoulder to shoulder, and you’re overwhelmed by an odd sense of longing that you can’t quite describe.

Johnny turns to you, mouth opening as if he’s about to say something- but as servers pass behind you, it’s clear that there’s no room for him to say whatever it is that he wanted to say to you.

You clear your throat, watching a line chef pop up next to Johnny to stack the dishes for dishwasher prep. “You should go back to Soonie,” you tell him, “I’ll finish up with the cleanup.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course, it’s Soonie’s day, go be with her.” You offer him a smile, and Johnny reacts by reaching out to squeeze your hand.

Without another word, he leaves you to your thoughts, and the feeling of need that’s growing steadier and steadier in your chest.

Seven

Johnny doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Soonie’s birthday was yesterday, and today's day shift had been quite slow. He’s feeling restless with Soonie over at a friend’s place tonight, and he tries to drown himself in liquor- whether it be to chase away the loneliness or to gain courage, he’s not sure, but by nine oclock, Johnny finds himself dialing up your number.

“Hey, you,” you answer.

“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Watcha up to?”

There’s a pause, and Johnny can hear people in the background. “I’m out actually.”

“Oh?” Johnny’s spirits dampen. “Out on another hot date?”

“Not so hot actually.”

Johnny bites at his lip. “I’ll let you go anyways.”

“It’s alright, I stepped out when you called. Do you need something?”

“I guess…” Johnny takes a breath. “I got into the liquor-”

“Say no more, I’ll be right over.”

Eight

“So…” Johnny grins as the two of you head into his kitchen, “how did the date go?”

You scoff, watching him pour a glass of wine. “How do you think it went? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“I mean… I am pretty hard to compete with,” Johnny flashes you a sexy grin… and proceeds to knock over the glass of wine. “Shit- fuck!”

“Listen, you go take a seat, and I’ll clean this up,” you laugh, watching him lumber toward the sofa. You make quick work of the mess, and when you’re done, you approach him in the living room.

“Come sit,” he prompts, patting the spot right next to him.

“Someone’s feeling awfully cuddly today,” you giggle when he grabs your hand to pull you down where he wants you, leaving no space between the two of you.

“What can I say? I’m a cuddly drunk.” 

“I can see that,” you note, assessing him.

His gaze dips to your lips, and your skin tingles. 

“Thank you for yesterday,” he says quietly.

“I told you, I was happy to help for Soonie’s special day.”

“It’s not just that,” he insists, “you’re always happy to help. I seriously-” he swallows thickly, “I seriously couldn’t have done anything I’ve done without you.”

“Don’t be so self deprecating,” you warn him, gently pushing his shoulder. “You’d have gotten anywhere you wanted, with or without me.”

“I still don’t have a food truck,” Johnny pouts.

You’d thought maybe he’d given up on that dream- although you’ve held onto hope for Johnny, more than he knows. “Now that you mention it, actually,” you say, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been looking at food trucks for sale online for a minute, and-”

Johnny’s gaze softens. “You’ve been researching for me?”

“Just a little,” you brush it off, trying to find the listing that you’d saved three days ago. “I found this decent looking one at a good price-”

“I think I love you.”

“Huh?” you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it,” Johnny says immediately, and your heart sinks. “I don’t think I love you, I know I do.”

“John, please, that’s the liquor talking.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he insists. “Look, you’ve always been there for me. We work together- and not just because we’re both chefs. Something about this,” Johnny gestures between the two of you, “it just works, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”

“Yeah?” You decide to play a little coy, seeing as this confession is coming from a drunk man. “And who else sees it?”

“Doyoung, for one.”

“Doyoung?” You let out a laugh. “Have you been gossiping about me with him?”

“I swear I didn’t bring it up,” Johnny defends himself. “Doyoung said I look at you with love, and that… that you look at me the same way.”

“Well… maybe Doyoung needs to get his eyes checked?”

“Don’t play with me,” Johnny begs, pulling you closer. “There’s always been a line between us, one we’ve both been too scared to cross… but, I think-”

“Now you’re crossing it,” you finish for him. “What made you want to do that?”

“Soonie’s birthday,” Johnny admits. “Our little family picture.”

“Our family picture,” you repeat, melting inside at the fact that he’d viewed the photo in the same light you had.

“Yeah.” Johnny nods. “Our family. Mine, and yours.” 

His hand finds your thigh, and you can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across his angular bones. “I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.

“We don’t have to say anything,” Johnny assures you. “Just kiss me, and we can forget about the world for a minute.”

Your heart is racing in your chest as you hesitantly close the distance between your lips. It’s a gentle first kiss, but it soon grows hungry, and you’re not sure if that’s due to his appetite or your own.

His tongue swipes across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, letting out a soft sigh as you get lost in the feeling of the man who’s been your best friend for years.

His hand on your thigh squeezes, and before you know it, he’s pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dig into the sofa on either side of him, and you’re hesitant to fully sit down- a kiss is a kiss, but grinding on Johnny is something else entirely.

“Johnny,” you whisper, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, wondering how you got into this situation.

“Yes, honey?” He presses kisses along your throat that have tingles shooting up your spine.

“You’re drunk,” you say finally.

“If I’d known you liked me too, I would have done this ages ago.”

“It’s not about that,” you laugh. “It’s about the fact that you’re drunk, and I want you sober when we do this.”

“Do what?” he teases, squeezing your hips, his tongue grazing over your jugular.

“You know what,” you retort with a huff. “Look, you’re right about the line neither of us wanted to cross.”

Johnny pulls away from your throat, looking up at you. “Huh?”

“The line. The unspoken line. All these years, something has been there, between us- but, we both respect your wife, we respect Soonie- I think… I think the time is right for this now, well, not right now, but, once you’re sober again.”

“You’re right,” Johnny concedes. 

“How about we watch a movie, then we can go to sleep.”

“You’ll stay over?” There’s a boyish excitement in his voice and it makes you melt.

“Uh huh.”

“Will you stay in my bed with me?”

“Just for cuddles, but only if you promise to drink a bunch of water before we sleep, I don’t want you hung over in the morning.”

Johnny grins. “You got it, honey.”

Nine

Johnny wakes up next to a warm body, and it’s the first time in years. Your presence is the only thing that proves to him that last night wasn’t a dream, some twisted fantasy- No, you’re real, and you’re here, and you’d kissed him back-

He stays cuddled with you for a while, basking in the glow of being in love, truly in love, and finally able to admit it to himself. It’s been so long since his wife, and part of him had forgotten the feeling- maybe that’s why it had taken years for him to realize how much he adores you.

After a while, Johnny decides he needs some water- and he wants to make breakfast for you. He wants to spoil you the way you spoil him.

Johnny is careful as he exits the bed, taking one last look at your peaceful face before heading down to the kitchen.

It’s easy for Johnny to get lost in the act of cooking, focusing on bacon at first before switching to eggs. As it was a few days ago, the smell of food wakes you up, and soon you’re joining him by the stove.

“Watcha making?” you ask, wrapping your body around his.

God, the feeling of you is- fuck, he can’t even describe how good it is.

“Wanted to make you breakfast,” he tells you, plating your food first. Once he has you settled and sitting, he quickly throws together a breakfast sandwich for himself.

“You and your sandwiches,” you laugh, digging into your bacon and eggs.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, coming to join you.

“So well,” you tell him, bumping your knee against his own, “even if someone snores.” 

Johnny can only laugh, he’s dealt with Soonbok complaining about his loud snoring for years. “How are the eggs?”

“Good!” 

You’re so chipper this morning, and he loves it. Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich- you’d cooked the eggs at the brunch birthday two days ago, and he realizes Soonie was right. “Your eggs are better,” he muses.  

“I’d planned on making breakfast for you, but you jumped the gun, big guy.”

“I wanted to pamper you for a change.”

“Cooking is my love language,” you tell him. “I’m excited to make you breakfast more often.”

“I like the sound of that,” he smiles.

“When’s Soonie come home?”

Johnny checks the clock on the stove. “In an hour or so.”

“As much as I’d love to see her, I think maybe it’s better if I’m not here when she gets home,” you say thoughtfully. “She’s a smart girl, I bet she’d be able to tell that something is up.”

“She definitely would,” Johnny confirms. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you that much if you stick around.”

You giggle, reaching over to squeeze his knee.

“How are you feeling about last night?” Johnny asks.

“I’m feeling good, how about you? Still remember all of it?”

“In perfect detail,” he breathes. “Although… a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you tease as he leans in, cupping your face so he can press his lips to your own. 

God, you’re such a good kisser. It just works. It’s hard for him to even pull away, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Take me out on a date,” you say.

“Hmm?”

“A date,” you repeat. “Just because we’ve known each other for years doesn’t mean we can skip steps.”

“I respect that,” Johnny nods. “I’ve got a busy week, and it will have to be a night where Soonie is out, but… we’ll make it work.”

Johnny’s so certain it will work, because things between you have always worked, and he can’t wait to see where this takes you. 

Ten

It’s been a week, but finally Johnny found time for that date night. Soonie is out with friends again, so it’s the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with the man who’s been on your mind constantly.

He picks you up in his old Dodge truck, compliments your outfit, and refuses to tell you where you’re going or what the plan is.

When you arrive back at his place, you’re honestly not even surprised. “Let me guess, you took me to the best chef in town?”

“You know all my lines, honey,” he grins. 

“So, chef, what’s on the menu?”

“I thought maybe you’d take a seat and let me cook for you.”

“As if I’d take a back seat,” you scoff. “What are we making?”

Johnny had made hand made fettucini before he’d come to pick you up. You let him take lead in making a white wine, garlic cream sauce with button mushrooms, spinach and crispy prosciutto, but you insist on being his sous chef and taking care of the chicken.

The smell is heavenly, and as he finishes it all off with fresh herbs, you think you start to drool a little.

“For a guy who claims to specialize in sandwiches of all things, you’re pretty good with italian,” you muse as you take your first bite and nearly moan.

“I’m pretty good with a lot of things,” Johnny laughs. 

“Look at you being all cocky.”

“You love it.”

He’s so right.

The two of you chat and laugh together while eating. It’s one of the best meals you’ve had in a very long time. When dinner is over, Johnny suggests a movie. As the two of you settle on the couch, he prompts you to come closer, and soon, the two of you are cuddled together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He’s so warm and comforting- you find yourself dozing off a little, although, maybe it’s something of a food coma from all the pasta.

Johnny brings his lips to your ear, and you shiver when he asks, “Should I carry you to bed, honey?” 

Part of you wants to tell him you’re not Soonie and you won’t be calling him daddy any time soon- but another part of you wants to lean into this. It’s been so long since you felt like you could be babied, and if anyone is going to bring out that side of you, it’s going to be Johnny.

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask, cognizant of the stairs he’ll have to climb.

“Have you seen my arms? I won’t drop you, honey, I promise.”

You allow him to scoop you up, and you feel like a giggling school girl again as he takes you up to his room. “Do you have a shirt I could wear to sleep?” 

“Choose anything,” he tells you. “When you’re changed, you can join me in the bathroom, I went and got a toothbrush for you.”

Before you know it, you’re cuddled in Johnny’s bed, wearing panties and one of his big shirts. He’s pressed to your back, his mint tinged breath warm on the nape of your neck. There’s no pressure for sex, no pressure for anything other than the situation at hand, and you can tell you’re both very content with it. 

Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of a man who’s been a cornerstone of your life.

It’s a deep, dreamless sleep, and it passes in the blink of an eye. You awaken to light beaming through his window, a warm body behind you, and something hard pressed against your ass.

You laugh to yourself- morning wood isn’t something men can help. Even so, you stir a little, adjusting to get more comfortable.

Johnny releases a sleepy groan.

You stay still, not wanting to wake him, but it feels like the damage is already done when he wraps you tighter in his embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Hi,” you respond lightly.

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to shift, and you feel his body tense when he does so. “Fuck,” he goes to pull away, “sorry, I uh-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, grabbing his forearm so he can’t move away, “keep cuddling me.”

Johnny returns, flush against your back, his hard cock pressing even more firmly to your ass.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asks.

“More than okay with it.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your throat. “Are you okay with this, too?” Johnny mumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

“Uh huh,” you sigh, wiggling your bum back against him and arching your neck to give him better access.

His hand finds your hip, gently squeezing you through the shirt you’re wearing. His lips are soft against you, but there’s a need in his motions too, and he begins to grind against your ass.

You let out a groan when he finds the sweet spot just below your ear, and he licks at it, making you moan louder.

“Are we going to do this?” he asks, nipping at your earlobe.

“Fuck it, yes.” You can’t hold back anymore, you turn in his embrace, quickly mounting him and smashing your lips to his own.

Johnny grins into the kiss, holding your hips while you settle on top of him, grinding down against his clothed cock while your tongues begin to clash.

His kisses have you seeing stars, your mind going blank except for him.

Soon, his hands slip under your shirt, slowly grazing up your sides. “Can I take this off of you?” he asks.

You open your eyes to look down at him, studying his pretty lips and his chocolate eyes. 

Instead of responding, you sit up, grabbing the hem of the oversized T and lifting it over your head, tossing it to the side and baring yourself to your best friend for the first time.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, gaze falling to your tits. His hands stay at a respectable location on your hips, and you grab one to lift it to your breast, adding pressure so he knows he’s allowed to give you a test squeeze.

Johnny begins to massage you, and you throw your head back, releasing a groan, swiveling your hips against him.

His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple and you mewl loudly, core throbbing from the stimulus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, propping himself up so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

You cup the back of his head, keeping him on your chest while he worships you. His other hand finds your neglected breast, gently pinching and massaging while he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“John-” You don’t even know what to say, you’re entirely wrapped up in him. 

You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. 

Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more. 

Johnny pulls away from your breasts, cupping the back of your head and drawing your lips to his again. “We should take our clothes off,” he suggests.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” you laugh. 

He helps you off of him, and you lay next to each other for a moment, both fumbling to get naked. As soon as you’re fully nude, Johnny rolls on top of you, slotting between your thighs. His lips find yours again, and his free hand trails down your body, teasing through your pussy lips.

“You’re already so wet,” he muses.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” you admit.

“Me too,” he assures you, capturing your mouth with his own while he teases a finger into your hole. You push your hips up, wanting more, and you latch onto his strong shoulders, moaning into the kiss.

Johnny’s a big man, and his finger is enough to have you wriggling below him. “Easy, honey,” he grins, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. “Gotta stretch you open.”

“Fuck,” you groan- does this man read erotica in his spare time? How is a thirty year old, single dad, this well versed in dirty talk even though you’re pretty sure he hasn’t been laid in forever?

He adds a second finger, curling them to find your gspot. As he pumps his hand, lips pressed to yours in a mad frenzy, you can hear your wetness with each motion. 

It feels unreal- have fingers alone ever done a number like this on you?

Johnny twists his hand a little, knuckles dragging along your sensitive inner walls. It’s like he’s trying to carve out a space for his cock, although, you know now that this won’t be enough. He’s thick and throbbing on your hip, his length so large you think he might just blow your entire back out when he slips it into you.

Even though you’re eager to be - for lack of a better word - impaled on him, Johnny takes his time kissing you, his fingers continuing their motions. “Wanna rub your clit for me?” he asks, moving his mouth to your neck. “I want to watch you cum.”

Your toes curl at his words, and you bring your hand to your pussy, drawing circles on the sensitive bud while he continues to stroke your inner walls.

Your core throbs around him, whimpers of pleasure escaping you. 

“You’re being so good for me, honey,” Johnny tells you, making your insides flutter even more from the sincere words of praise.

Cumming hasn’t always been the easiest thing in the world for you. There are many partners you’ve had who never had the wherewithal to get you there- but somehow, Johnny just knows you. Or maybe, it’s because he knows you- because you feel safe with him, that you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

It also helps that it’s your own fingers on your clit, you know exactly what you like, what pressure, what motions- the digits working you open are just an added bonus that have you seeing stars as you make your way to your peak.

“John,” you gasp, tits pushing up toward his chest when your back arches. “I’m gonna-”

“Let it out for me,” he encourages you softly. “You deserve it.”

“I deserve your cock,” you whine, shocked at your own blatant neediness.

Johnny only laughs. “After,” he assures you, “I promise.”

A few more circles of your clit has the cord in your stomach snapping, your orgasm washing over your like warm summer waves. Your entire body tingles with delight, gasps leaving you as your pussy fully throbs around his fingers, your clit pulsing with desire.

“So pretty,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours.

From the way he smiles against your mouth, you can tell he doesn’t care that you’re moaning so much he can hardly kiss you.

It’s a closeness you’ve never felt before, and he helps you through your orgasm until you’re pulling your hand away in favour of grabbing his shoulders.

Johnny takes his fingers out of your core, and you watch under hooded eyelids as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean and releasing a groan. “Everything you do tastes better than what I bring to the table.”

You laugh. He’s such a fucking chef.

“Some might even say it’s…” you stifle a giggle, “Finger licking good.” 

Johnny lets out a laugh, eyes lighting up. God, you love this soft, laughter infused sex- you’ve never experienced anything like it.

You grab the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and there’s something so erotic about it. He moans loudly, rubbing his cock between your wet pussy lips.

The tip of his cock is stimulating your clit and it sends jitters through you. You can feel how soaked you are, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this ended with a wet patch on his bed from how turned on you’ve been throughout this whole experience.

Johnny seems intent with grinding against you, but you’re lacking patience today, and you reach between your bodies to grab his cock.

Johnny breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down at where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze shifting back to your own. There’s a question in his eyes, and you’re both aware that this is the final line. Once you cross this, there’s no going back.

You bring his cock to your wet hole, and with very little effort, you help guide the head of his cock inside of you.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans immediately, fists bunching at the pillow on either side of your head. “You’re so tight- are you sure you’re good with this?”

“You’re just- fuck,” you whimper as another inch sinks into you, “you’re just big!”

“Maybe you’ll have to get used to it,” he grins, pushing deeper.

You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders. “Maybe I will,” you gasp. 

He brings his mouth close to your own, until your lips are just brushing, eyes meeting when he says, “I’m looking forward to it.”

As he kisses you, he pushes fully into your warm, wet, throbbing core. His hips are flush to your own, and you swear no one’s ever been this deep inside of you.

Your legs shake on either side of his hips, body suspended in this odd purgatory-like place between extreme pleasure, and an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched more than you’ve ever been stretched before.

“Are you good?” he asks, lips moving to your cheek while you struggle to aclimatize to his cock.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly. “Just- fuck me, it will be easier.”

“If you say so, honey.”

The first thrust has your toes curling, eyes clenching shut with pleasure. A sound that’s never come from you before leaves your lips- a sound you’ve heard in porn, but always thought was an overexpression.

Your fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulders, and he holds you close, mouth finding your neck while he begins to fuck you.

Although, would this be called fucking?

The fluidity of his motions- the way you’re clinging to each other- it feels more like making love, and your skin tingles with the realization.

“Johnny?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me you love me again, like you did when you were drunk.”

“I love you,” he says immediately, holding you even tighter. “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.”

Your entire body both relaxes and is set on fire by his words, your core throbbing desperately around his massive cock. 

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“Tell me you love me too,” he pleads.

“I love you too,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his face close to yours so you can look up into his eyes. “I love you too.” 

Johnny’s hand finds your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Somehow, he hits even deeper now, and you wriggle below him, more sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the room.

“You sound so good, honey- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me and moaning-”

“Then don’t last,” you gasp. “Want you to cum.”

“Where should I cum?”

“Inside- I’m on birth control, just- fuck, Johnny, cum inside.”

He groans, pressing his mouth firmly to your own, his tongue dancing along yours as his motions get even faster.

You’re clinging to him for dear life at this point, and when he slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, you nearly begin to cry from how good it feels.

“Love the way your pussy sucks me in when we play with your clit,” he tells you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Do you think you can cum for me again? I don’t want to be the only one cumming.”

“Yeah, yeah- fuck, yeah, I can cum again,” you whimper desperately.

“Let me know when,” he instructs, adjusting his motions ever so slightly so each thrust has his cock dragging against your gspot.

You let out a squeal of delight, your thighs shaking around his hips, stomach muscles clenching almost painfully-

“Fuck, John, I’m there- shit, fuck-”

Johnny shuts you up with his lips against your own, and for a second time, your orgasm hits you.

Your core clamps down incredibly hard on his cock, and Johnny groans deeply above you, fingers twitching on your clit. He keeps his pace, and a moment later, you feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls with warmth.

The feeling of his large length throbbing in your own oversensitive hole has your entire mind going fuzzy, and you kiss him like a woman lost, like a woman so completely in love that nothing else matters.

You ride out your orgasms together, until you’re both shaking. Only then does Johnny come to a stop on top of you, kisses turning to a more gentle nature as he holds you close. 

“I love you,” he tells you again.

You smile, blinking up at your best friend. “And I love you.”

Epilogue

The two of you are in the kitchen cooking brunch. Johnny is pressed to your back, watching intently, asking all sorts of questions about how you cook eggs to make them so delicious and superior to his own.

“The secret ingredient is love,” you tease.

Johnny can only laugh, holding you tighter.

He’s so lost in you, that he loses track of time, and as the two of you are sitting down to eat, Soonbok walks through the front door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you, letting her little overnight bag slip to the ground.

“Oh, hi, baby,” Johnny stands up immediately.

“Hi, daddy,” Soonie says, allowing her dad to pick her up for a hug while her eyes shift to you.

“Did Sabrina’s mom drop you off?” Johnny asks, looking out the door to wave at Soonie’s friend’s mom as she drives away.

“As always, daddy,” Soonie laughs. “I didn’t know y/n was coming over.”

“Surprise,” you grin, also standing so that when Johnny sets his daughter to the ground, she can run to give you a hug of your own.

Once Soonie is done squeezing you as tight as her little arms can muster, she looks between you and Johnny. For some reason, Johnny feels his heart beginning to race, there’s a knowing in his daughters eyes.

“What’s going on?” Soonie asks finally.

“Y/N and I just had a little sleep over,” Johnny tries to explain, and the concept isn’t a new one, you sleep over frequently… in the guest bedroom.

“So…” a wicked grin appears on Soonbok’s face, “Does this mean you’ll stop trying to get me to call her auntie now?”

“What?” Johnny lets out a surprised laugh.

“You heard me, daddy,” Soonbok’s smile widens. “Does this… does this mean we’ll be a real family now?”

Johnny lets out a shuddery breath. In the years you’ve been helping raise Soonbok, Johnny has broached the idea of her calling you Auntie Y/N, as a respect thing, and his daughter has always refused. Had she seen the connection this whole time? Has this been something Soonbok has wanted ever since she was a five year old with an inquisitive mind and an even more discerning eye?

Johnny’s gaze shifts to you, and you flash him a warm smile.

“Yeah, baby,” Johnny picks up his daughter. “We can be a real family now.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)

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🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) honey

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You love working with Johnny. Sure, it had been rough at first, getting his food truck on its feet, but it’s been two years, and with some insanely good marketing, you’re now running one of the top trucks in the city.

It’s a joy to watch Johnny fulfill his dreams every day- his odd obsession with sandwiches of all things has only added to your connection. Watching him smile and charm guests makes your heart swell with joy, and on the rare occasion Soonie comes to do the register and take orders, it feels like you’re just one happy family.

Today, however, is a weather disaster. The forcast had mentioned light sprinkles, but cuddled next to Johnny looking out at the torrential downpour, you both feel a little bamboozled.

“You know what would make this more fun?” Johnny asks.

“Customers?” you suggest.

“Yes, but also… I got you something.” The chef flashes you a sly smirk, and you pull away from his shoulder to asses him.

“Am I going to like where this is going?” you ask.

He was single for so long- and there’d been so many sexual things he’d missed out on during that time, but the two of you are making up for it every moment you have alone. You suppose this is a moment alone, so you’re not really shocked that his mind is in the gutter.

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[writers-potion]

Storyediting Questions to Ask

As You Read the First Draft:

Are there place that surprised you as you read your first draft? - Why do you suppose that is? - Is there material there you'd like to expand?

What are the character really doing in this story? - Might they have issues you haven't explored fully yet?

Look to the places that drag. - These might be scenes where you have avoided dealing with something deeper. - What are the characters really thinking in these places? - What are their passions, frustrations, and desires?

Imagine alternative plotlines. - How might your plot be different if ti headed off on another tangent from various points in the story? - You don't have to follow them, but they might suggest other streams that can flow into the main plot.

Think About Structure:

Does you story play out naturally in three acts?

Is there an immediate disturbance to the Lead's world?

Does the first doorway of no return occur before the one-fifth mark?

Are the stakes being raised sufficiently?

Does the second doorway of no return put the Lead on the path to the climax?

Does the rhythm of the sotyr match your intent? If this is an action novel, does the plot move relentlessly forward? If this is a character-driven novel, do the scenes delve deeply enough?

Are there strongly motivated characters?

Have coincidence been established?

Is something happeing immediately at the beginning? Did you establish a person in a setting with a problem, onfronted with change or threat?

Is the timeline logical?

Is the story too predictable in terms of sequence? Should it be rearranged?

About Your Lead Character:

Is the character memorable? Compelling? Enough to carry a reader all the way through the plot?

A lead character has to jump off the page. Does yours?

Does this character avoid cliches? Is he capable of surprising us?

What's unique about the character?

Is the character's objective strong enough?

How does the character grow over the course of the story?

How does the character demonstrate inner strength?

About Your Opposition:

Is your oppositing character interesting?

Is he fully realized, not just a cardboard cutout?

Is he justified (at least in his own mind) in his actions?

Is he believable?

Is he strong as or stronger than the Lead?

About Your Story's Adhesive Nature:

Is the conflcit between the Lead and opposition crucial for both?

Why can't they just walk away? What holds them together?

About Your Scene:

Are the big scenes big enough? Surprising enough? Can you make them more original, unanticipated, and draw them out for all they are worth?

Is there enough conflict in the scenes?

What is the least memorable scene? Cut it!

What else can be cut in order to move the story relentlessly forward?

Does the climactic scene come too fast (through a writer fatigue)? Can you make it more, write it for all it's worth?

Does we need a new minor subplot to build up a saggin midsection?

About Your Minor Characters:

What is their purpose in the plot?

Are they unique and colorful?

Polishing Questions:

Are you hooking the reader from the beginning?

Are suspenseful scenes drawn out for the ultimate tension?

Can any information be delayed? This creates tension in the reader, always a good thing.

Are there enough surprises?

Are character-reaction scenes deep and interesting?

Read chapter ending for read-on prompts

Are there places you can replace describing how a character feels with actions?

Do I use visual, sensory-laden words?

For a Dialogue Read-Through:

Dialogue is almost always strengthened by cutting words within the lines.

In dialogue, be fair to both sides. Don't give one character all the good lines.

Greate dialogue surprises the reader and creates tension. View it like a game, where the players are trying to outfox each other.

Can you get more conflict into dialogue, even emong allies?

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[captain-joongz]

Tits out

Pairing: best friend!Wooyoung x f!reader

Genre: bffs to ??, college au, pure smut, barely any plot, fluff, humour

Summary: When talking to your best friend about your nipple piercing during movie night backfires in the most spectacular way possible and Seonghwa's new couch gets caught in the crossfire

Word count: cca 7k

Warnings: reader is chubby, there's no discussion, they just jump into it, titty sucking, nipple and nipple piercing fixation, unprotected sex (this is pure fantasy, be careful in the real world), a little bit of body insecurity about body hair, fingering, doggy, squirting (let me know if i missed anything)

I had met Wooyoung back in the first year in uni and now four years later we were still going strong. The man that walked in confidently into a lecture hall, bee-lined straight for the empty space next to me and was sitting down before I even comprehended his question of “is this seat taken?”, who then proceeded to talk my ear off and invite himself for lunch with me, was quite easy to befriend, believe it or not. After sitting next to him a few times and going for lunch later, I’d managed to get out of my shell a little too and soon we were two merry extroverts steamrolling through university hip to hip. He’d become one of my best friends, one of my closest friends and a person that understood me almost perfectly. We knew we could count on each other completely and trusted each other blindly.

I was introduced into his friend group, and he was into mine and we often hung out together in huge groups of rowdy younglings, going dancing and spending weekends eating too much junk food and watching bad movies someone had put on, but no one really paid attention to besides the occasional joke about its stupidity. I couldn’t count how many times I’ve done something extremely stupid while hanging out with them and was heavily encouraged by both Wooyoung and San. It was the most fun I’ve had though, and that’s what really mattered.

Now I was already out of school, but Wooyoung and most of his friends were continuing with their studies. Due to this, we tried to hang out every Friday, but a lot of the time it ended up being just me and him or even just me sitting in their living room watching Netflix waiting who makes it home first. It was like my second home at this point, and no one was phased when I showed up out of the blue and sat on the couch like I owned it. Especially since Seonghwa bought the new one, that one was extremely comfortable.

Usually, Friday night was a hang out and movie night for me and Wooyoung anyway, but today I was a woman on a mission. A few months ago, I had gotten a nipple piercing. It wasn’t my first one (though it was definitely the most painful one) so I wasn’t extremely worried about it, but lately it has been acting up a little. It usually didn’t hurt but sometimes there would be this slight discomfort around it and I’ve even noticed some slight scabbing even months later. I knew realistically that it was most likely okay, but my anxious nervous little brain had managed to convince me that I’m going to lose my tit or something. That’s why I needed a second opinion. And that’s where Wooyoung came in.

Tonight, I was making my way towards their flat knowing I’m about to ask Wooyoung for the weirdest favour one ever could, but it should be okay, right? We were such close friends, it definitely wasn’t a big deal, right? You normally asked your friends to take a look at your tits and tell you whether there’s something weird about one of them, that was just a usual Friday, no?

I checked the group chat again and confirmed that it would be just me and Woo tonight and then made my way to their building’s door. They lived on the fourth floor without an elevator, which would normally be a minus, but since it was an old warehouse made into an apartment building, their flat was actually massive and housed all of them without a problem, so I graciously sacrificed myself and stomped up the stairs a few times a week to see their faces (and eat their food).

Upon arriving to the flat, I found Woo busy making something in the kitchen, humming lightly while whipping cream like a 50s housewife.

“What you up to?” I asked casually strolling into the room, making Wooyoung jump with shock. “Jesus fucking Christ, you sneak in all the time and yet I still get scared by you,” he said and put his hand over his heart. I slapped his shoulder and peeked at what he was making.

“You literally gave me the keys, Wooyoung, I’m hardly sneaking in,” I said and rolled my eyes at him. He just laughed and pushed me out of the kitchen. “Shut up and start choosing the movie or I know we’ll just end up scrolling through Netflix for hours like always,” he shouted over his shoulder and went back to whatever snack he was making.

As I sat on the couch, I was steeling myself for what I was about to ask him, trying to figure out how to bring it up. No time like the present, right. I mindlessly scrolled through the movies, but really I was waiting for Woo to join me in the living room. Then finally he came in through the door, a plate of little cheesy snacks in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other. I was just about to open my mouth, but he cheekily winked at me and made his way back to the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding a little tray with two cups of hot chocolate, the coke and two glasses.

He finally joined me on the couch and for a while we both just sat there, arguing about whether we want to watch a comedy or a thriller, while I was thinking how to broach the subject. But in the end, I didn’t even need to do that. In the middle of my sentence about how I’m not watching another stupid horror movie about nothing, Wooyoung suddenly turned to me and just gave me this look. And I knew I was done playing around. I stopped in the middle of talking and stared at him. He grinned.

“Okay, just spill it,” he said when I stayed silent for too long.

“What do you mean?” I attempted to stray away from the topic until I was ready, but he’d already saw through me. “Really?” he asked incredulously, “I’ve known you for years, you think I don’t recognise when you want to talk about something? Just spill the beans already.” I heaved a deep sigh and then turned on the couch to face him. He was still grinning.

“Okay, this might be really weird, but just bear with me for a while, okay?” I started. While I was slightly worried about the piercing, I also couldn’t help but fear Woo’s reaction, after all this wasn’t exactly a normal thing to ask your friend. I knew worst case scenario he’ll just say no and laugh it off, but still. He looked a little more serious for a moment, but then I continued talking. “I need you to look at my tits, okay?”

Wooyoung looked at me shocked for a moment and then bursted out laughing. I just glared at him annoyed. “Hear me out-“ I started but he cut me off. “Is this about like being insecure about them? You want me to look at them and say they’re okay? Y/N, you know your tits are amazing-“ he was going on and on, but this time it was me who cut him off.

“God, no, nothing like that,” I shut him up embarrassed. While it was true that I was slightly insecure about my plump figure, I loved my boobs, I knew they looked great. They were simply just right, it was one of the things I loved about my body. Wooyoung sensed that it must be something more serious and gestured for me to continue.

“You know I got the piercing, but lately it started to act up a little and I’m getting nervous and I just need you to look and tell me it looks fine,” I got out in one breath and he just stared at me. “Okay…? Why don’t you look into the mirror?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I have, but since I’m getting so nervous about it, I need a second opinion,” I explained, “Come on Woo, I know it’s a super weird and gross request, but help me out here.” Wooyoung laughed again and smirked at me.

“Gross and weird?” he repeated, “Not only I’ll see a nipple and a piercing, but I’ll also see a boob and a nipple with a piercing, that’s like some of the best things in this world combined together.” I slapped his shoulder again, but we both laughed this time.

“You’re the worst, god,” I said laughing, “I’m surprised you haven’t died over being such a fucking horndog all the time yet.” He laughed too and then gestured to my top.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just shut up and pull your tits out,” he joked and made himself comfortable on one end of the couch. I wasn’t particularly shy about showing my body, so it wasn’t that hard to bare myself like this. Hell, me and Woo have probably seen each other naked a few times but just didn’t care enough.

I pulled the two straps of my top off my shoulders and bunched the fabric around my waist, then reached around to my back to take off my bra. When it hit the floor Wooyoung’s full attention was suddenly on my chest, and it flustered me a little. I fought the instinct to cover myself with my arms and instead just sat there, topless with my best friend intensely staring at my boobs.

“So?” I asked anxiously, “What do you think?” He suddenly straightened up and it brought us quite close to each other. “That you have really great tits,” he said absent-mindedly, his hands raising on instinct as if going to squish them. I flushed and swatted at them. “Yeah, I know,” I said annoyed, “that’s not what I asked though.” That seemed to break him out of it a little bit and he hunched down so his face was on level with my chest. I face-palmed and hoped no one would come home unannounced, cause this would be damn hard to explain.

“No, yeah I think it’s okay,” Woo said after a while, “I mean, the pierced one looks a little different, but that’s to be expected. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.” I relaxed at hearing him say so and felt the tension leave me at once. But I just needed a little more to feel completely at ease.

“Can you like… touch it to see if it’s weirdly warm or if there’s some weird texture or something?” I asked embarrassed and quickly looked to the side when Woo’s head whipped up to look at me. “You want me to what now?” he questioned me flabbergasted.

“I don’t know, dude! You’re the one that gets into contact with tits, you’ll know if there’s something wrong with it!” I started hurriedly explaining myself, growing more flustered by the minute. Wooyoung stayed quiet for a moment and then sighed. I thought this was finally the line that was too far for him, but then his hand suddenly flew up and stopped just millimetres from my nipple. We both just sat there, holding our breath, not knowing where to look, when he slowly brought his fingers in contact with my skin. I gasped quietly, but in the silence it was still audible. I flushed in embarrassment and refused to look anywhere else except for the wall by the TV.

Wooyoung’s fingers messed around a little, pressing down on the nipple and gently squeezing it, also lightly touching onto the piercing. Surprisingly enough, what I felt wasn’t pain like I feared. With every soft brush of his fingers over the sensitive skin, a little bolt of pleasure shot through me and I had to fight to keep myself from gasping more or arching into his touch. I felt the blush spreading over my face and completely mortified I noticed beginnings of a scorching wet heat between my legs.

Then suddenly his hand was gone and he was clearing his throat. The silence that set between us was broken and we both started shifting around, not knowing what to do with the situation we found ourselves in.

“I think it’s totally fine,” he said, his voice somewhat hoarse, but I was so embarrassed I barely even registered it.

“Oh thank god, I was really getting nervous,” I said and laughed a little awkwardly. Wooyoung wasn’t saying anything and just sat in front of me tensely, so I assumed it was good and he just needed a moment to shake off the sudden awkward atmosphere, and turned around to find my bra. That was a rookie mistake though. The moment my eyes left Wooyoung, he striked. As I was searching the floor with my eyes, suddenly what felt like a lightning strike went through my whole body. My back arched on instinct, and I toppled backwards onto the couch with a loud moan.

Wooyoung’s mouth has attached itself onto my pierced nipple and he sucked again, another shock pulsing through me and pleasure suddenly flooding my senses. My hands flew to his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away I just pulled him closer. I myself wasn’t sure of what was happening or what we were doing, but it felt too good to dwell on it and I definitely didn’t hate it.

Wooyoung moved closer and made himself comfortable between my spread thighs, his mouth busy sucking and licking around my piercing. I was letting out tiny breathy moans, my legs instinctively pulling him closer to my core, hoping for a little friction.

“What… what are you doing?” I finally gathered my wits and asked breathlessly. I looked down to see the top of his head moving around. He peaked up to look at me and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ve never been with a girl that has a nipple piercing, I couldn’t help myself,” he explained, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“You damn horndog,” I muttered, but didn’t push him away or stop him. That gave him confidence to continue, and he smirked at me, as one of his hands brushed down my front until he was slightly pushing on my clit through my clothes and I arched again. He moved to the other nipple and played with it a little, while his unoccupied hand moved to my other breast, touching it teasingly, squeezing it slightly and thumbing the piercing.

“It’s so sensitive,” he murmured and watched his hand completely fascinated. I was about to retort something, but he chose that moment to bite at my breast and move up to leave wet hot kisses on my neck and a loud moan came out instead. It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, and I was starting to worry I might utterly embarrass myself. One of my hands sneaked down between our bodies, trying to encourage him to touch me properly instead of just gently pressing, but he caught it and pulled it up to my shoulder. Suddenly he was towering over me, smirking at me and just generally being a menace. I arched again, this time trying to push our lower halves together, but he avoided me with a laugh.

“God, please, Wooyoung just touch me,” I begged him as the desperation from the scorching heat cursing through my veins was taking over, throwing everything into the wind and fully committing to getting fucked by my best friend. He kept smirking and propped himself up over me on his elbow.

“Touch you, huh?” he said and suddenly his hand was back to teasing my clit, this time with more force. I keened and pushed up into him, suddenly embarrassedly realising just how wet I’d gotten from such small ministrations. He chuckled watching me, head diving to take my pierced nipple into his mouth again, gently playing with it with his tongue and scraping his teeth over it. I jerked and my hands flew into his hair, holding him in place so that he’d never stop, my mouth falling open on a silent moan, too overwhelmed by the sensation to properly function. He slowly moved up to my neck, peppering kisses and small bites along the way, while his fingers moved in little circles over my clothed clit.

I was so turned on I could die, I needed him to touch me properly – like stuff me full of his long beautiful fingers. And I told him as such. And he laughed at me.

“Aw, such a little desperate angel, aren’t you?” Wooyoung whispered into my skin. I whined his name, hoping it would speed him up. He scoffed at me playfully but moved away to pull my shorts off, grabbing them with one hand and pulling them down in one swoop; leaving me a little breathless and only in a bunched up top around my middle, while Wooyoung was still fully clothed. I started pulling his shirt off and he obliged, flinging it to the other side of the room eagerly.

Woo sat back on his heels between my spread thighs to take me in and I started to feel shy again, hands moving to grab onto him and pull him back onto me, but he pushed my arms back into the couch and held them there for a moment, before sitting back again.

“No, no, angel, I’m looking at your pretty pussy,” he teased me, hands grabbing at my full thighs to keep them spread wide. I looked down and suddenly an insecurity reared its head again. About two years ago I had stopped shaving in my intimate area, only trimming it a little, cause it irritated my skin too much and the last time I was about to get some, the guy called me disgusting. Wooyoung was currently watching me like a starved man in front of a feast, but still I nervously covered myself with my hands. His eyes flicked up to me, questioning, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry,” was all I said, mad at myself that I couldn’t even properly get out why I was suddenly so uncomfortable, and he looked at me all confused. “What are you sorry for?” he asked, but then realisation lit up his eyes and he moved to stand up from the couch, “Did you change your mind? You know it’s okay to tell me.” I looped my legs around his waist to pull him back to me and he fell forward with an “oof”. This pressed his erect cock to my core as he held himself up with his hands right by my head and we both moaned at the contact. My legs kept encouraging him to grind into me and for a moment we both just breathlessly moved against each other, Woo releasing little moans and sighs into the heated air between us, and I watched his half-lidded eyes slowly become hazy with pleasure, utterly fascinated.

“So I guess no changing of minds,” he chuckled on a small groan as his hips started thrusting a little harsher against me, losing all rationality and just chasing pleasure. “No, nothing like that,” I whispered back and pulled him for a kiss for the first. As soon as our lips touched, we started hungrily devouring each other, moaning into each other’s mouths and our hands grabbing onto each other desperately. I ended up helplessly grabbing onto his back and most probably leaving red scratches in my wake.

After a moment Woo pulled away, sat back on his heels again and I whined and tried to pull him back, leading him to laugh at me once more; but his fingers went straight for my pussy, spreading it open and sliding through the wetness there. As if placated, I immediately stopped whining and arched my back more, begging for his touch.

“What was that about before?” he asked slightly breathless and I could see he was being serious, even though his finger started slowly circling my clit and playing around. I could barely concentrate on explaining as I was too busy drowning in the liquid pleasure spreading through my entire body.

“Just a little… hng- a little insecure about- about my hair,” I answered while writhing around, simultaneously wanting more and hoping he’d stop so that I could explain properly. His eyes immediately flicked down between my legs just as his finger slid down and slowly slipped into me. I moaned loudly, hands grabbing and squeezing the couch. His gaze was trained on my hole as he pumped his finger in a few times and then quickly slid in a second one.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he whispered, still watching his fingers slowly fucking into me, his other hand going to squeeze his erection still tenting his sweats. My mouth was hanging open, eyes unfocused, noises just pouring out as I was finally feeling full for the first time. But then suddenly he pulled his fingers out and focused on me again. I actually sobbed out, trying to close my legs to keep his hand from leaving, but they were still kept spread by his hips.

“Why would you be insecure about it?” Wooyoung whispered and it took me a moment to remember what we were talking about before. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him, sitting between my spread legs with an obvious erection in sweats stained by my wetness from our grinding before. I flushed again and tore my eyes away from his cock, only to catch his smug smirk. I schooled my expression and said: “The last guy I was with called it disgusting. Said he’s not Columbus to be exploring the rainforest.” Wooyoung scoffed.

“What a fucking asshole, who even comes up with shit like that?” he asked incredulously, “Well, clearly he’s a fucking coward, but thankfully… I’ve always liked a little bit of adventure.” He said the last bit all flirty, winking like an absolute sleaze and I just knew something awful was coming. “Besides,” he said while pressing himself into me again, “the rainforest is the perfect place for my anaconda.” I groaned, but this time from pure embarrassment at his jokes while he cackled like a madman. I pushed him away and started to turn around so that I could stand up.

“God, I changed my mind, get off of me,” I said morosely, but he just grabbed my hips and used the momentum to turn me around and get me on all fours, then pressed us together. A bolt of arousal shot through me, and my arms buckled under my weight, my face pressing into the couch while my ass stayed propped up by Wooyoung, pressed into his hips.

“Actually, this is quite a good idea,” he said grinding into me, “I always knew you’d love to be fucked like this.” He bent over me, his chest pressing into my back as he whispered straight into my ear. “Pressed down like this, taken from behind quick, rough and dirty,” he murmured, “Put nicely in your place…” I moaned unabashed, hips pushing back onto his cock on their own and lust making itself painfully known again; in response I could feel Wooyoung’s hands tightening on my skin and suddenly he pulled back to hurriedly tug his sweats down. His hands made their home on my hips, squeezing and pulling, keeping me pressed into him, his cock slotting between my thighs and sliding along my wet pussy. I keened and attempted to grind back, but he held me as his hips pulled back.

“God, please,” I begged, “Please, Wooyoung, give it to me…” He held himself with one hand and I heard him chuckle. “You want it?” he teased. I felt the head of his cock gently teasing around my hole, slightly pushing in and pulling out again. I sobbed exasperated and nodded, face mushed into the couch and hands grabbing onto the throw pillows, my whole body just fucking screaming for his cock to spear me through and through, cunt spasming and tightening around nothing.

“Yes! Yes, please!” I cried and he finally slid inside in one slow thrust. I moaned with relief and sagged into the couch a little, finally getting what I’ve been wanting this whole time. Wooyoung groaned behind me and his hands dug into the skin of my hips, pushing us impossibly together. The feeling of fullness satisfied something wild and primal in me and I found myself struggling to close my mouth, too blissed out to do anything.

He stilled for a moment to get us both accustomed to the feeling, but clearly both of us were too horny to wait even a little longer, because the second I pushed my hips back into him, he started slowly grinding in small circles and it wasn’t long before it shifted into shallow thrusts punching out little gasps out of me.

I only had to whine out “please!” once to get Wooyoung to speed up and pound into me in a much faster pace, to both of our reliefs. Woo’s cool had quickly melted away into a desperate quick pace that had tiny whiny moans spilling out of him. I wasn’t fairing much better, the slide of his cock along my walls from this angle was absolutely heavenly and within few moments had me absolutely losing my already frayed mind. With my head turned away from the cushions I found myself unable to close my mouth, moans freely slipping out and bouncing off of the walls of the living room. Embarrassingly enough I could feel a string of drool coming out of the corner of my mouth onto the couch, but I couldn’t force myself to care when Wooyoung was fucking me so good.

It quickly became obvious we were both too horny and turned on to keep any kind of decorum, so we descended into a messy filthy fucking, Woo eventually bending over me and plastering his chest to my back, mouthing and biting at my neck in between grunts and groans. Just thinking about how deliciously I was filled with his cock had me moaning loudly, Wooyoung chuckling as if he wasn’t the same, losing his mind over the tight wet heat enveloping him in a torturous hug.

I found myself quickly spiralling, the molten pleasure pumping through my body at an alarming speed. I reached back and pulled at Wooyoung’s hips, forcing him to shift his leg a little closer and putting his hips a little higher over mine, giving him perfect access to that one spot deep inside of me with every thrust. I lost all control over my body then, taken over by the all-consuming pleasure, the moans coming out higher and louder with every thrust.

“God- ah aah-“ I panted out, hands digging into the pillows looking for any kind of purchase to withstand the onslaught of sensations, “I- I’m cumming so-soon.” Wooyoung giggled breathlessly into my shoulder and his hips suddenly gained back a little more direction, aiming to hit the spot with every slam into me, slowly speeding up until he was railing me like a madman, the wet squelch of my cunt and slapping of skin on skin accompanying the cacophony of our joined pleasure. I wailed, unable to keep up with the mounting climax, almost screaming on every thrust inlaid with little gasps, groans and cut off gibberish pouring out of my mouth. It felt as if my entire body lit up, the bliss becoming a little too much for me to properly register beyond “Oh god! Oh yes!” ringing through every inch of my very being.

Then Wooyoung’s hand moved to my tit again and squeezed and pinched the pierced nipple few times, even giving it some light slaps. My whole body seized up on a lightning strike of pleasure and the orgasm hit me like an actual truck, getting thrown over the edge so unexpectedly and with such force that I gave one last wheezing cry, mind blanking out and all I could register was the white ecstasy pouring through me, out of me, as if my entire body was made out of it, every nerve screaming with it.

Distantly I registered Wooyoung’s startled cries and moans, his hips jerking against mine quickly and erratically, his hands back on my hips tightening until I could feel his nails biting into my skin and was sure I’d have a nice set of imprints for at least the rest of the day. Then he stilled over me, cock pushed as deep inside as it could go, pulsing and throbbing as the cum poured out in thick spurts. His deep groan of satisfaction reverberated through my whole body since he was still pressed into my back tightly, letting me enjoy the moment with him.

As if invisible strings were cut, we both collapsed into the couch and hazily I realised I only stayed upright because Wooyoung was holding me so he could fuck me harder. After few minutes my mind slowly started coming back, body tiredly catching up, registering the pleasurable ordeal it just went through. I could feel my pussy throbbing, hot and wet from being thoroughly fucked and filled with Woo’s release, my hips hurting from the pounding. I was almost expecting to see bruises all over me.

For a few moments only laboured breathing was heard through the room as we both recovered, the haze gradually lifting, allowing us to come to terms with what had just happened between us. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel awkward at all. It may have been because I was still lying boneless, unable to speak from the force of the orgasm with Wooyoung’s softening cock still wedged deep inside of my pussy, but I found myself quite comfortable squished into the couch, feeling his shallow breaths in the crook of my neck and his thumping heart against my back. I wondered if he could feel mine, as it was beating just as wildly.

But the comfy silence was broken by the man himself, when he whistled and said: “Wow, I had no idea you could do that.” There was a little teasing undertone to his statement, but mostly I could detect only giddy wonder and pride.

“Do what?” my words still a little slurred, because I was still recovering the functions of my brain and fighting sleep, so deeply sated I could barely hold a full thought.

“Squirt,” Woo stated matter-of-factly, his hands beginning to gently caress my sides to help me come down. “Huh?” I said eloquently and turned to look at him. He just gave me a soft grin, eyes squinting in joy as he took in my state. “I did what?” the question was more rhetorical and I wasn’t even really talking to Wooyoung, rather I started to squirm trying to look down as if my pussy held the answer. And in some way it did. When I managed to lift up my hips a little, my whole body protesting and Wooyoung behind me grunting at the jostling of his soft cock, hands digging into my hips to try and hold me still, I saw that the couch beneath us was absolutely soaked. Slight panic seized me, I didn’t even know why, it was just a natural reaction of my tired brain to the information that apparently Wooyoung, my best friend, had made me squirt for the first time in my life, all over Seonghwa’s lovely sofa. Well, at least it did explain why the orgasm had been so fucking intense, feeling as if the soul left my body and astral projected into a parallel universe.

The squirming dislodged Wooyoung from me and a splat of his cum joined the already huge stain on the furnishing. Now I winced, realising that there was no way either of us was surviving this. Unceremoniously I plopped back down into the mess and turned to Wooyoung, who was sweaty and rosy-cheeked, watching me with amusement.

“Seonghwa is going to fucking murder us,” I muttered tiredly, already back to fighting sleep off now that I was lying again. I let my eyes fall shut and only heard Wooyoung’s answering laugh, only felt him get up from the couch and gently roll me over on my back. There was shuffling, rustling of clothes and footsteps around the living room, but I couldn’t find the strength to look at what was Woo doing, letting myself drift on the high and the aftershocks that were still coursing through me.

Wooyoung was humming somewhere in the apartment and then there was a gentle touch on my hip. I whined but let him do what he needed. A warm wet towel was pressed onto my stomach lightly in lieu of warning and I slowly opened my legs again, feeling the strain and the burn that just hurt so good. Woo tenderly cleaned me up with soft unhurried strokes, then helped me sit up against the pillows to try and put some clothes back on me.

I blearily opened my eyes and blinked at him. Wooyoung was kneeling on the floor in front of me wearing only his sweats and holding his black tee. When he saw I was back in the land of living, he slowly pulled it over my head and helped my arms into the sleeves. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy from his sudden softness, thoroughly enjoying this after-care, suddenly found myself overtaken by the violent need to cuddle and sleep it off, so I was just about to suggest that, when he suddenly sprung to his feet and pulled me up with him. I let myself be man-handled with only a slight surprised yelp, but suddenly standing I realised my legs still weren’t in working order, if my shaking buckling knees were anything to go by, so I just grabbed onto his shoulders and hoped he wouldn’t let me fall.

He didn’t. Another nicely warm towel was now wiping my butt of anything I had been sitting in, his hand gently patting it before putting me back onto the couch in the area that was dry.

I wanted to sleep, but I was too amused by the picture of Wooyoung standing in front of the huge wet stain with a deep thinking expression on his face, wracking his brain for anything to do about it. When a giggle escaped me, suddenly his eyes were on me with a mischievous glint.

“You made the mess and now you laugh at me when I’m trying to save our lives?” he asked jokingly, amusement lacing his tone. I giggled again and curled around one of the pillows, fully committed to watching the comedy unfold. Wooyoung just sighed and looked at the couch as if it murdered his first-born.

“I gotta come up with something before-“ his voice was cut off by the door suddenly opening and a commotion coming in. There were three voices happily chattering something and I could recognise the guys from that. With terror I met Wooyoung’s eyes the moment we registered Seonghwa as one of the voices. Before any of us could even move a muscle, the three men walked into the room and promptly froze in their tracks.

“Holy shit!” It was San who shouted that, but we were focused on the cacophony of emotion going through Seonghwa’s face seconds before he cried out “MY COUCH!!” on the top of his lungs. There was genuine anguish and betrayal in his voice before his eyes redirected from the stain to us with pure fury.

“Okay! Time to take a shower!” Wooyoung shouted and pulled me up, but ended up supporting my entire body when my knees buckled and I was balancing on shaking legs like a new-born fawn. From this angle I could see the pure amusement and approval on San’s face right next to the disgusted traumatised Yeosang. I blushed furiously and let Wooyoung drag me off to a bathroom, where he sat me gently on the toilet.

“I’m going back out,” he whispered with determination as if he was about to walk into a battlefield, leaving his wounded comrade in the safety, knowing there was only death outside. I snickered at him and he theatrically waved at me from the door, before walking out and shutting it behind him.

I could still fairly clearly hear everything go down though, especially when only moments later Yeosang popped in to give me my clothes and stuff I left on the table and didn’t close the door fully after him. My phone was vibrating like crazy, which could only mean San was already blessing the group chat with all the piping hot tea. I unlocked it and clicked on the notifs.

Mountain man: lolol woo and y/n fucked on the couch and completely ruined it

Princess: ew fuck you wooyoung

Muscle baby: i’ll never fucking use the living room again

Brat: 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

The situation unfolding in chat was interrupted by the scene that was going on in the living room in the real time.

“Calm down, I’ll think of something,” Wooyoung’s voice carried through, trying to console Hwa only to be followed by another shriek of “BUT MY COUCH!!”.

“Wow Wooyoung, I really thought better of you,” Sannie teased, adding oil to fire and I could clearly hear his laughs. No signs of Yeosang, but he was probably just standing there watching it all go down.

“I spent months picking it out!” the level of hysteria was steadily rising in Hwa’s voice and I really slowly started fearing for Woo’s life. “I’m gonna have it dry cleaned or something,” the said man offered only to be met with more shrieking.

“You better fucking throw that thing out, there’s no way I’m sitting on it after this,” San added very unhelpfully to the conversation, “especially since I saw the state of it.” There was a beat of silence during which I imagined Wooyoung was throwing daggers at San with his gaze for stirring more shit into it.

“I’ll buy a new one,” was his final plea and while it was met with some more grumbling and fake-crying, I could hear the situation calming down.

Captain: what the fuck is happening there when i’m not home

Mountain man: fornication

Demon angel: disgusting

M o t h e r: MY COUCH

M o t h e r: my amazing couch in the perfect shade of blue that i was looking for

M o t h e r: DEAD AND DEFILED

Puppy: i’ll help you look for a new one, hyung

Mountain man: wooyoung already agreed to buy a new one since he was the cause of the *suspiciously* large stain

Captain: no details

Captain: never any details

Captain: first rule of fight club

xoxo from hell: 🤔🤔

xoxo from hell: i think

Princess: oooh she breaks her silence

xoxo from hell: that a certain man here in this chat should rather shut up considering last week i walked in on him fucking a girl on the kitchen table

Brat: oop-

Mountain man: Y/N

Mountain man: NO

Demon angel: 🤮

Muscle baby: RIGHT WHERE WE EAT???!!!

Puppy: eat pussy apparently

Princess: nice

Captain: don’t encourage him

“MY KITCHEN TABLE?!” Seonghwa’s scream sounded through the flat just as Wooyoung slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a wide grin. Distantly I could hear San’s pleading and general chaos as Hwa no doubt started raining fury upon him.

“Nice save,” Wooyoung smirked at me and started ridding us of clothes so we could finally take the shower we both desperately needed. The feeling of the hot water hitting my spent and pleasantly aching body relaxed me and I sighed with content. I was basically ready to melt into a puddle right there, sleep slowly rearing its head back up, so I just went with the motion and let Woo soap us both up and rinse us, I let him dry me and put a fresh tee on me that I didn’t even notice he brought with him. I was just watching him with eyes half closed and a doped out smile on my face.

“You’re so cute like this,” Woo muttered as he led me through the hall to his room, amusement and fondness filling his voice with uncharacteristic gentle sweetness. Upon entering his room I immediately beelined for the bed and burrowed myself between the blankets and pillows. Woo rummaged around in his closet for a moment, but it was the only sound I could hear as the apartment suddenly fell almost eerily quiet.

“If I’m so cute now,” I finally mumbled out from underneath the cozy pile, “maybe you should fuck me more often then.” That had Wooyoung turning around to face me with a mischievous grin. “I fully intend to do that,” he said devilishly and jumped in with me. It took a bit of shuffling to get into a comfortable spooning position, but we were no strangers to cuddling each other, so it went rather smoothly.

Just as the sleep was claiming me and I felt myself getting pulled under, Woo suddenly perked up and said: “You don’t think the silence means hyung murdered San and now Yeosang’s helping him get rid of the body, right?” I snickered gently, but just swatted at him to lay back down.

“Well, he probably deserved it,” Woo muttered and snuggled in closer to me, letting the exhaustion finally lull us to sleep. And it was the most comfortable sleep I’ve had in a while, even if San potentially paid for it with his life.

Divider from the amazing @saradika-graphics 💜

A/N: hope you enjoyed yourself, don't be shy I'm always open to comments and asks!!

[sourbinnie]

☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

maknae line

a/n: first reaction ¡! i decided i would go with the "compares you" part. hope i did it well for yall and to the person who requested it, thank u!!! i'll publish maknae line whenever i'm free:]

chan ✉

arguments could get pretty heated with chan sometimes (he's a libra at the end of the day). it could get stressful since you've been going back & forth for so long now, as you tried to make him understand that he wasn't taking care of himself but it only brought back hurtful words that you were letting it pass under the excuse that he was "too tired". maybe you were too naive at that moment thinking that he would calm down and you guys would solve it like you always do.

then you heard it, he didn't say their name but you could only imagine who he was talking about at that point and time. 

"they would just leave me alone and let me be, why can't you do the same? ah right you're not them and you will never be." he said and horror washed him instantly as they realized what they did. fights were inevitable but you can always keep comments to yourself right? it was just the heat of the moment that made him slip out such cruel words. as soon as you were turning away to leave, he was trying to find his way to you but it was too late anyways. "baby nono, don't leave not right now, it's late and i was fucking stupid. i'm so fucking sorry-."

"i just need some space right now, yeah? i need to be away from you." you said and that only made him worry even more as that's the last thing he wanted right now. "just let me christopher, we'll talk when i get back." 

"don't call me that, i'm still your channie, your boyfriend and i still fucking love you. listen i'm sorry but please don't go." he said close to the tears falling from his eyes and you just shook your head as you grabbed your things and he followed you around the house like a lost puppy. "(y/n) let's work this out yeah? i'll go to the dorms tonight and you'll stay here."

eventually knowing he wouldn't give up, you just nodded as you went to your shared bedroom and sighed. letting the tears finally from your eyes and hearing the door close was enough to let your sobs out from how much those words stung in your heart.

minho ✉ 

fighting with minho wasn't easy. his witty responses and his hurtful comments always stood out like daggers in your heart. he usually didn't fight at all but when he did, most of the time he took it too far and it wasn't easy to forget what he said. as the new comeback approached, you tried your best to be supportive but when you couldn't see them on their first win, it hurt minho. he wanted you to be there, backstage or in the crowd cheering for them but he did not see you anywhere. turns out you were too late, had a "work" emergency, he called bullshit on that.

"i'm sorry min, i'll promise i'll be on the next one. my boss really needed me and-." he cut you off immediately, not wanting to hear it.

"it's fine. it's not like they would miss out on this like you did. maybe i should just get back with them." he muttered and it was enough for you to walk away from him. all the boys were there to talk to him about what just happened and why were you crying but he was completely petrified from your reaction and how you just went away without a word. "god i'm such a fucking idiot." he said as he chased after you through the hallways.

"don't even try talking to me. i get that you're fucking mad but that doesn't give you an excuse to say stuff like that." you said as you still walked away and didn't even look in his direction. minho tried to process what was happening all at once but couldn't bare to see the look in your eyes as the tears were still going down your face.

"please listen to me for a second. it was stupid that i got mad, i should've understood you from the beginning but please stay and i'll make it up to you. i promise." he said and even if it did sound sincere, you just couldn't do it.

"i'm sorry, i think i wanna be alone tonight." you said as you looked at him one last time and kissed his cheek before muttering "goodbye minho" and walking through the door. leaving a distraught and regretful minho behind.

changbin ✉ 

it wasn't rare for you to fight with changbin, what was rare was when he got mad. this time when you were at the studio, making sure 3racha were feeling well and not overworking themselves, you were met with a furious bin. it surprised you, you've never seen him mad and maybe something else was happening that you didn't know or you chose the worst time to visit the studio. whatever it was, it made you feel so small and like you were in a place you did not belong. jisung and chan weren't even there to witness it but you guessed that as soon as they heard, they left you guys alone.

"look i'm sorry. i don't know what i did wrong but that doesn't excuse your attitude and how you're treating me right now!" you said but it wasn't enough to his ears as he gave you the next words.

"god i can never say anything, at least with them they would let me express myself. i should've never broken up with them if i knew i was gonna end up with you." ouch was all that could be said about that as you nodded and felt the water in your eyes grow slowly. "shit- i'm so fucking sorry, i don't know what came over me baby."

he tried to get close to you but you just took a step back and that broke changbin's heart completely. it made him feel like a monster in front of you but he couldn't blame you for that, it was all his fault in the end. when he saw you walk away, as much as he wanted to, he decided not to follow you and let you go. he couldn't describe what he was feeling when he saw you practically run away from the building and not answer for jisung's calls since he was just walking in with chan. 

"what the fuck happened hyung?" jisung asked as he crossed his arms and that's when changbin lost the control of his tears. he wasn't one to usually cry but he was now gonna be haunted with muttering those words to you and what he made you feel in that moment.

"i fucked it up like i always do." he said brokenly.

hyunjin ✉

as much as you loved hyunjin, he got so petty in fights it was irritating. he was the definition of drama queen and he could fight on & on about the tiniest of details. like right now when you just got home and you forgot to do some things in your shared apartment. tiny things like the dishes or the laundry usually didn't piss him off but today when he got home practice and saw, in his words, that the whole house was upside down, he got stressed. 

"look i'm sorry, i forgot to do it and i know you've been busy with practice. i'll do it tomorrow since i get to go home earlier." you tried to explain but he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

"tomorrow? are you serious? they would've done it right here and now and wouldn't be putting up excuses like you're doing." he didn't even have to mention them for you to know who he was talking about. it felt like twisting the knife on the wound as you just looked at him with the most hurtful stare.

"of course they would. they didn't have a job in the first place and relied on you for everything!" you said and laughed bitterly but in a sad way. "if it's my job then it's a problem but with your job there's literally no excuse right? 'cause it's more important. grow up hyunjin." 

"look babe i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i was thinking when i said that." he tried to make up an excuse at the moment but he knew nothing would justify what he said and implied with his words. it was met with a sigh from you and it was your turn to shake your head. "i don't think your job is less important and i shouldn't have said what i said-."

"but you said it." you whispered and decided to head to your shared bedroom to lock the door. you needed some time alone not only because of the harsh words but because it made you process your whole relationship in a flashback. 

[buckyalpine]

hey shay! what do you think about steve and sam betting that bucky cannot date the newest avenger for like two months without falling in love with her. and, of course, he accepts, and asks her out, all in the hopes of winning.

(plot twist: he is a dumbass and a fucking simp because he falls hella hard in like the first month. she’s basically his soulmate and his dream girl. absolutely perfect. he dreams of their marriage and children and cannot wait to make it a reality. and steve and sam are beyond happy for him, and the three decide never to speak of the bet ever again.)

but fast forward to their first anniversary together, and she finds out that the only reason why bucky ever paid any attention to her, and asked her out, was because of the bet. and it leaves her absolutely heartbroken and destroyed, to the point that she debates asking for a transfer. because of course the only way the legendary sergeant james buchanan barnes would ever notice her is because of a bet. pfft! how big of an idiot she is!

(and we see bucky do some seriously grovel. because he cannot lose the love of his life. his baby. his everything. his sunshine in the dark. the reason for his existence.)

maybe steve and sam join in to help him? because they adore her as well, and they know how much bucky needs her.

YESSSS YES YESSSSS. I am here for the angst and the fluff, I love this because we all love a break up make up situation.

"100 bucks"

"No"

"Okay, 150"

"Why are we doing this"

"200"

"...why"

"Because we know for a fact, there's no way you'd be able to date the new recruit for two full months-

"-without falling in love, you can't actually fall for her"

Sam and Steve looked at Bucky intently while the soldier cocked an eyebrow, the three of them lounging in the common room after a morning briefing to meet their newest team mate.

"You're both willing to pay me $200 just to date y/n without falling in love?" Bucky deadpanned staring at his two best friends, both with matching shit eating grins.

"What's wrong Barnes, scared you'll get your wittle heart broken?" Sam egged him on only to be met with a cocky smirk from the brunette.

"That's not a problem because I don't date" Bucky shrugged, happy to win easy money if all he had to do was ask the new girl out and date her for a bit without actually catching feelings.

He was never really the relationship type; the charm he used to have in the 40's was slowly making its way back and it was perfect for when he needed a quick fix. Long term was never his thing and he wasn't about to start now but he also wasn't going to turn down a bet when his friends seemed so keen.

Besides, his pride was on the line and it was only two months.

"So let me get this straight. I date her for 2 months-"

"No falling in love with y/n"

"-no falling in love and you pay me?"

Sam and Steve nodded while Bucky got up, shaking their hands to seal the deal. He already mapped out a plan to ask the new girl out, mentally deciding on an easy break up speech for when the inventible comes.

"Two months white panther"

"Wolf"

"Two months"

"Easy"

****

Bucky knew he was screwed after the first date. Just the first date. When he first asked her out, she gave him a shy giggle and he knew he wanted to hear that sound again. And again. And again. She gave him a little nod, shuffling on her feet and for a moment, Bucky regained his confidence. There was no way he'd have anything in common with someone so shy and quiet, winning the best was going to be a breeze.

Until she came down in a sun dress, ready to go out for for their date and she smelled like peaches and cream and there was that fucking giggle again when he got ice cream on his nose when they shared a sundae. Her hands were so soft when she swiped her thumb over his little mess, cleaning him off with a tissue while he blinked.

"You're so adorable, sarge" She gave him a bashful smile and his cheeks couldn't have possibly blushed more, his heart beating strangely fast. He wasn't really too sure what to do, usually it was him making girls turn into puddles of shy messes but her he was, more tongue tied that ever.

He wasn't sure what it was.

Maybe it was the fact that she asked him about the 40's, something he rarely got to talk about. Maybe it was the way she listened to him intently while he got lost in his memories, recalling happier times, the both of them laughing over stories about scrawny Steve before the serum. He'd been on plenty of dates before but none of them were like this.

(It didn't matter though, his main goal never left his sight...not really)

He asked her out again and he immediately put his hand to his stomach when she showed up in her workout clothes since he'd offered to train with her before their scheduled date. He'd fully intended to take control over the situation, gain the upper hand again by making her all sweet and shy with his subtle touches but nope.

Here he was with butterflies dancing madly around his tummy when she smiled brightly as soon as she walked through the gym doors; his train of thought long gone when as she dropped her towel beside his. He flipped her with ease, her much smaller form blinking up at him as he caged her under him. He didn't even have it in him to throw her a wink or a flirty smirk, giving her soft puppy eyes instead and helping her to her feet.

To his own surprise, he didn't even try to make a move to get her in bed.

He couldn't.

Not when he was genuinely enjoying conversation with her. Not when she looked at him with such trust and care not to break her heart. Not after she'd confided in him that she felt safe with him after about a month of dating. Bucky's mind, which was usually filled with filth and fucking was now filled with thoughts of her in a pretty white dress, walking down the aisle, ready to say I do. He thought about how adorable their babies would look, how beautiful she'd look pregnant, she was his dream girl, how he couldn't wait for the day it'd all really happen, he was falling in love for the first time in his life-

He. Was. Screwed.

****

"M'gonna marry her"

"What"

"What?" Bucky blinked back at his friends with wide eyes, not realizing he'd said that out loud; the three of them sitting around the living room again since you had gone out for a girls night with Nat and Wanda.

"Come again, what was that?" Sam grinned, sitting up straighter from where he'd been sprawled out on the floor while Steve nudged Bucky with his shoulder.

"Nothing" Bucky mumbled but the blush on his cheeks spread up to his ears.

"AWWWW" Sam howled while Bucky buried his face in his hands, "BUCKY HAS A CRUSH"

"You like her, huh punk" Steve grinned, not needing verbal confirmation from his best friend; both him and Sam saw the way Bucky started falling for you from day 1, not standing a chance of winning their bet.

"I do" Bucky smiled shyly, not bothering with a snarky retort, not when he'd fallen so hard for you the second he heard your laugh. No one bothered to bring up the bet again, the entire thing long forgotten. Sam and Steve couldn't have been happier when they saw Bucky's eyes light up every time he looked at you. You'd tumbled into the living room along with Nat and Wanda behind you, giggling and falling into the soldiers lap, nuzzling into him like a kitten between tipsy kisses.

Sam could've sworn he saw Steve flick away a tear, the both of them watching Bucky grin like a little kid with the biggest crush, melting into a puddle instantly with you in his arms.

"Hey Sarge" You gave him a hazy smile, sighing contently when he kissed your forehead and scooped you right up, holding you to his chest. "Missed you"

"Let's get you to bed babygirl" Bucky whispered, carefully taking care of you, changing you into one of his Henley's and completing your skin care routine since you couldn't in your drunken state. He kissed you good night, pulling the covers up and holding you close to him the entire night.

Nothing compared to the soft puppy he became whenever you were near him and it wasn't exactly a well kept secret. No one failed to notice the way he was head over heels in love with you. With each passing day Bucky loved you more, doing everything in his power to keep you happy, to protect you with his entire heart, there's was no way, absolutely no way, he'd every do anything to hurt you or lose you.

Ever.

One Year Later

You stretched, blinking at the sun that peeked through the curtains, feeling extra warm, cuddled up with you boyfriend who was the human form of a furnace. You were in no hurry to get out of bed, burying your face into his bare chest instead, breathing in his scent, humming contently when his thick arms wrapped you impossibly closer.

"Happy anniversary my love" Bucky whispered, his eyes still closed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since you'd stolen his heart. A full year filled with kisses and giggles and softness. There wasn't a day that had gone by where Bucky wasn't a complete simp for you (he'd picked out a wedding ring within month three and had it hidden somewhere in his room by month 6).

"Happy anniversary handsome" You kissed his chest where his heart beat steadily, giggling when he pinned you under him, attacking you with a flurry of feathery light kisses, "Bucky stop!" You squealed with laugher as he wrapped you tightly and let his scruffy cheeks tickle your shoulders, the both of you tangled in his sheets, having a lazy morning.

"I love you" He whispered into your hair, sneakily slipping his hands up your over sized shirt, his cool metal fingers stroking down your spine making you shiver. "So much, bella"

"I love you, Jamie" Your cheeks heated up and the sweet name he had just for you, only reluctantly getting out of bed after Nat had practically dragged you out of bed to go shopping. You didn't want to do anything but cuddle with Bucky all day but the red head didn't care, happily evading your privacy to barge into the room and whisk you away, throwing back a wink when Bucky mouthed a silent thank you.

Bucky had planned out the perfect anniversary, something he'd thought out for weeks. The compound would be empty so it would just be the two of you; he'd cook dinner himself, have some songs playing from the 40's with a juke box he'd managed to get his hands on and spent the entire night letting you know how deeply in love he was with you. He didn't care how cheesy it was, buying out an entire florist shop to cover the room and terrace with your favorite flowers, having some suspended from the high ceilings along with petals strewn on the floor.

He'd pull out all the rom com stops for you, giving everyone a task to keep you busy so he could set up for the night. Nat had been tasked with keeping you away until evening, only bringing you back in time for dinner. Sam and Steve spent the whole day hanging and putting up flowers, lighting candles and listening to Bucky ramble about how much he adored you. Tony worked on lighting and sound, tinkering with the music and setting it up outside.

To say you were surprised was an understatement. Nat had blind folded you as soon as you got back and instructed you to put on the dress that had been laid out in your room. You had no idea what she was talking about until you found a floor length gown along with a note sitting on top of your bed.

See you at 8 tonight my bella

Happy 1 year Anniversary,

Yours forever,

JBB x

You didn't waste a second, hopping into the shower, doing your makeup and spraying on your perfume that you knew he loved so much. You slipped the dress on along with some heels before making your way down to the now dimmed lights, the soft glow of candles warming the room.

You gasped as soon as your eyes landed on Bucky, standing head to toe in all black, a dashing smile on his face. He strode over to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, pecking your lips sweetly, the scent of his cologne already making you woozy.

"You did all this for me?" You blinked back tears, his thumbs swiping them away .

"Anything for you doll" Bucky whispered, pulling you in for another kiss before leading you to the garden; a trail of rose petals covering the floor to the back terrace. Fairly lights twinkled, mixed in with the tiny stars that dotted the night sky; you didn't bother with sitting in your own seat, sitting in Bucky's lap instead while your both sipped on champagne.

It didn't take long for him to swoop you off your feet so he could sway with you instead, music playing softly in the background while he whispered sweet nothings, only sitting down again so he could feed you the dessert he'd spend the whole afternoon making for you.

"I can't believe you did all this for me Bucky" You said sincerely, holding his face in your hands, gazing into his soft blue eyes, "You're perfect my Jamie"

"You're my perfect gift doll"

"Oh! I have to get you your gift!" You realized you'd left it in your room between a spoon of chocolate cake Bucky was feeding you, hopping up from his lap to get it. You scurried off to your room, giddy over the present you'd put together for Bucky, the whole gift taking months of planning to get everything to come in time. You rummaged through your closet, grabbing the carefully wrapped box and returning to the hall, excited to see his face when he opened his present.

You passed by Steve's room stopping dead in your tracks at the words you heard, your feet suddenly unable to move.

"Can you believe this all started over betting he'd never fall for y/n?" Sam snorted, sitting on the couch in Steve's room, the both of them munching on the scraps of chocolate cake and sipping on beer while watching a movie.

"All over 200 bucks, remember he was so sure of himself"

You felt like you'd swallowed cotton, your mouth dry, finding it difficult to swallow. You wanted to turn back time, wishing you'd never heard that conversation, or maybe it was all a misunderstanding, Bucky would never do that, not your Bucky.

"Didn't you tell him he'd only have to date her for 2 months?"

"2 months and 200 dollars, terminator shook on it"

"He even had a break up speech ready"

You gripped tightly onto the present, dashing away from the room, unable to bear more of the conversation. Your heart was hammering out of your chest as you shakily made your way back to Bucky, it just couldn't be true.

Could it?

Did he really only ask you out because his friends made a bet with him?

Bucky smiled when he saw you return, opening his arms for you to slink onto his lap again. His smile disappeared when you kept your eyes down, fumbling with the gift in your hand, staying rooted in place in front of him instead of cuddling up with him like you always did.

"Baby? Is everything okay?" Bucky got up from his seat, carefully making his way over to you. He tipped your face up, surprised to find your eyes wet with unshed tears, the corners of your lips quivering with how hard you were trying to keep from crying.

"You-you promise you'll be honest with me?" You tried to keep your voice from cracking, afraid everything you'd imagined with Bucky would come crashing down if what you heard was true.

"Of course" Bucky felt his heart race seeing your glassy eyes and broken expression, what could have possibly happened in the few seconds you were gone "Bella, what's wrong"

"Did you only ask me out because of a bet?" You tried to keep from sniffling, your heart breaking at the guilt that immediately spread across Bucky's face.

"Doll, I-

"So it's true?" You whimpered, stepping away from the man you loved so much, feeling a whirlwind of emotions, the gift you clutched onto slipping from your grip and onto the floor, "It was just a bet with Sam and Steve?"

"Baby, please let me explain-" Bucky wanted nothing more than to reach out and wipe away the tears he caused, his own streaming down his cheeks when you moved further away from him.

"Please don't" You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, not wanting to feel his touch you knew you'd instantly melt into. "Just don't James"

Bucky was ready to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness, beg for you to call him all the sweet names reserved just for him but you dashed back into the compound, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs.

"Sweetheart wait, please don't go, just let me explain baby, I love you so much" Bucky trailed after you, quickly swiping his dampened cheeks, catching you in the elevator just before it closed. "Y/n, I love you doll, I'm sorry, it started that way but-

"It's not your fault" You quickly wiped away the new wave of tears that stung your eyes, desperately pushing the button to take you to your room faster, "I-I should've known you wouldn't have been into me in the first place"

"Y/n, that's not true sweetheart, don't say that baby, please"

"I thought you really liked me, I-I didn't know someone had to pay you to date me"

You felt stupid, ridiculous, ashamed, how did you ever think someone like Bucky, the handsome ladies man from day one, would suddenly be into you, some random new trainee turned avenger. You weren't special, nothing about you stood out from others, there was no reason for him to give you attention.

It all made sense now, your heart splitting into two, biting hard on your lip to keep your cries down, you couldn't believe how stupid you'd been to think he actually liked you from the start.

"No baby, you had me from day one-"

"P-please don't l-lie to m-me" You hiccupped, making a bee line straight to you room as soon as the elevator doors opened, not looking back once. You locked your door before Bucky could catch up, ignoring his persistent soft knocks, begging for you to give him a chance to explain.

"Y/n, bella, please, open the door sweetheart, I love you, I promise truly love you so much, I'm so sorry baby, I need to talk to you, please" Bucky sniffled, his forehead pressed to your door in defeat, now letting the tears fall freely. He stayed rooted in place, slumping down with his head between his knees, running his hands through his short locks in frustration. The only thing he cared about was making you happy and he was the one who screwed it up.

You clutched onto your sheets, trembling as sobs wracked your body, thinking back to all the moments you thought were so sweet, moments where you thought you were both falling in love, now realizing they were nothing more than a ploy to get $200.

You remembered your first date, thinking about how cute Bucky looked with a tiny dollop of ice cream on his perfect nose, how nervous you were to swipe it off, your heart racing when you told him he looked adorable. It took every fiber of your very being to muster the courage to do that but it had meant nothing to him.

You had been stupid to think he liked you too when he asked you out again; you remembered the way your entire body felt like it had been lit on fire when he had you pinned you under him, growing bashfully shy when he helped you up onto your feet, everything a part of his plan to eventually dump you.

You felt ridiculous. You were not gorgeous like Natasha or enhanced like Wanda. What made you think the very Sergeant James Barnes would have his eye on you of all people.

You should have known.

-

"Do you hear that?" Steve paused the movie, hearing a muffled cry from the corridor, his brows furrowing at the sniffles that followed. Sam nodded with a frown, both men getting up and peering into the hallway, surprised to find the super soldier sitting against your door, eyes and nose red from crying.

"Bucky?" Steve was by his best friends side in an instant, kneeling before him, helping him up to onto his feet.

"What happened, where's y/n" Sam blinking hearing crying from inside your room, his stomach churning when Bucky shrugged, chewing on his trembling lip to keep from breaking down again. Bucky let Steve lead him into his room, sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping onto the sheets till they nearly tore.

"What the hell happened Buck"

"She found out bout the bet" Bucky whispered, fresh tears streaming down his face when he remembered how defeated you looked with betrayal. "She knows I asked her out because of it"

"Fuck" Sam hissed while Steve ran a hand over his face. They felt equally responsible for hurting you for having suggested the bet in the first place, also piecing together you must have over heard them when they were talking earlier. Steve was sick with guilt while Sam also slumped onto the couch, all three men feeling awful for hurting you.

"Did you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to even look at me" Bucky shook his head before burying his face in his hands again, unable to stop from crying; there was a good chance he lost you forever and it was his fault.

"Just-just give her some time" Steve threw an arm over Bucky, while mentally hitting himself for being part of the mess, hoping you'd forgive his best friend who was deeply and utterly in love with you.

-

You woke up with a throbbing headache, staying in bed for longer than usual. You felt more embarrassed than the night before realizing others must have known the true nature of your relationship with Bucky. Not only did Bucky not really like you in the first place but he'd only even looked your way because he was sure he wouldn't fall for you.

You kept to yourself for the first few days. You'd managed to wake up earlier than everyone else so you could eat breakfast and train alone, only to eat dinner extra late after everyone had gone to sleep. It wasn't difficult given your skill set; you slinked about undetected, evading the other avengers every time they knocked on your door to check on you.

Bucky tried to find you every single day, spending each night falling asleep by your door, ignoring the worsening kink in his neck, hoping he'd get get to see you just once, one time so he could at least apologize to you properly.

Two full weeks had gone by and you some how only felt worse. You hated hearing Bucky cry when you walked by his room but then you'd remember what he did and you couldn't bring yourself to trust him again.

Bucky was a mess. He missed you more than anything; you were his baby, his soul mate, his beautiful sweet bella. He would've given anything just to see you walk down the hall way, anything to hear your voice even if it was you telling him off like he deserved. He wanted you to yell and scream at him, tell him what at ass hole he was, that he was the biggest jerk on the planet, that you hated him, he'd listen to it like it was music if he just got to see you again.

He got his hopes up when a new mission came up requiring all hands on deck; Tony called for a sudden meeting with the full team which meant everyone had to be there. Bucky ran off to the showers within seconds, scrubbing himself with body wash he knew you loved so much before throwing on a tight black t-shirt and jeans that made you all shy and giggly. He knew he was playing dirty, leaving the scuff on his face before spraying on a dash of cologne.

He had to look his best, even if it meant you'd throw your cute little kitten mug at his head. He nervously ran to the conference room, eyes flicking to each individual, his heart dropping when he didn't see you there.

"Damn Barnes" Tony whistled while Steve smiled sadly knowing his bestfriend was hoping to see you. "Who'd you clean up for"

"Where's y/n" Bucky's eyes were pleading with everyone, hoping someone would say you were just running late or that you weren't taking part in the mission.

"She's....she's at the head office" Tony sighed, "She wants a transfer"

"Damn it" Sam had now sat up while Bucky left the room with Steve following behind him. "He needs her, he really loves her"

"I-I can't lose her" Bucky sobbed, shaking his head, clutching onto the card you had given him on your anniversary. He'd read every word 100 times over, memorizing it to heart, careful not to crush the paper as he pressed it to his chest. "She's everything to me"

"Look, it's out fault too. We're the ones who suggested the stupid thing, we'll get her back" Steve gave him a reassuring squeeze and Sam nodded.

"I feel like shit man, the whole thing was meant to be a dumb joke, we love her too, we're not just gonna let her leave like this, not our y/n, okay? That's our girl"

"C'mon, lets go get your girl back, punk"

-

You frowned as you entered through the main doors of the compound, finding it unusually quiet when everyone should have been at home since they'd just gotten back from their mission. You felt conflicted after your meeting with Fury and Agent Hill, both of them asking you to reconsider your request to transfer. You told them you'd think about it but you were certain over your decision.

You couldn't face the team any more and your were too embarrassed to look at Bucky again. You didn't mind working in the office and starting over, figuring that would be the best way to mend your heart.

You made your way up to your room, a little red envelope sitting on your pillow catching your attention. You were wary as you opened it, your breath catching in your throat as you recognized the handwriting.

To my first and only love,

I don't deserve someone as sweet as you, but I can't bear the thought of you thinking I don't love you with my entire being. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I need you to know it was always real.

Always.

I've kept it will hidden but it's time for you to see. It's in my favorite hiding spot for your eyes only.

With all the hugs and kisses in the worlds,

JBB

You knew exactly what spot Bucky was referring to, thinking back to the early days of when you were dating. On more than one occasion, Bucky had grabbed you into his closet, shutting the door when he wanted a few extra moments of privacy before a mission, showering you with 100's of kisses before eventually getting caught and dragged down to the hangar with a bashful grin on his face.

You reluctantly made your way to his room, letting out the breath you were holding when he wasn't inside. The scent of him alone already caused you to feel butterflies but you ignored them as you looked in the closet, finding a shoe box with another red envelope sitting on top for you to read.

To my sweet bella,

You had my heart from day one. You were never supposed to see any of this but you have to know. It's always been you.

Forever and only yours,

JBB

You sat on the floor of the closet as you carefully opened the box, inspecting its contents. Inside was an old, weathering diary with a receipt stuffed in the middle as a bookmark. You opened the page that was marked, surprised to find the receipt from the ice cream place you where you had your first date, the date of the entry a few days before he asked you out.

A new team mate has joined the group. Her name is y/n, y/l/n. She specializes in hand to hand combat and is a trained spy. Tony introduced us to everyone today. I wouldn't mind being her friend but I hope she isn't afraid of me, maybe she's just shy.

The next entry was from the day Sam and Steve made the bet

I doubt I'll forget this but I'm writing it down anyway. 2 months for 200 dollars. Seems stupid but what's the worst that could happen, it's not like she'd actually fall for me anyway.

Then there was the entry after your first date.

She's probably one of the sweetest people I've ever met; I don't want to forget this day, bet or not. She wore a sun dress and she laughed at all my jokes. She called me adorable. Her hands felt so soft. I'm sure its in her nature to be so kind but I wish it was just for me. Maybe I'll ask her out again.

A few days later.

I swear I'm falling in love with her more and more each day and she doesn't even have a clue. I don't know how to show her she's special to me, you'd think I'd be better at this. I hope one day she feels the same way.

And then

I love her. So much. Ma would have loved her. I hope one day she says yes.

You let out a wet laugh at the entries became sappier, each one detailing how hard he was falling for you, all the little details of your dates filling the pages, your heart breaking when you realized he wrote as much as he could remember so he'd never forget. He didn't mention the bet in any of the pages because he'd forgotten about it completely, fully focused on making you officially his.

The diary was sacred to him, a private place where he recounted his most precious memories, the one thing he'd never share with anyone but he decided to share it with you because you had to know. It was one of the few places he poured his heart and soul into with no filter, some of his darkest memories scrawled onto the pages but after he'd met you, it changed. Page after page filled with nothing but sweetness, pure and untainted love. You wiped the tears away, carefully placing the diary back in its proper hiding spot before making your way downstairs hoping to find him.

You found a trail of petals that hadn't been there earlier leading to the living room, walking to a very remorseful looking Sam, Steve and of course Bucky, all three men clutching onto teddy bears along with a blanket fort hoisted up in front of the large TV screen.

"What-what is all this?" You whispered, hesitantly walking towards them with Sam stepping forward first, wrapping you up in a bone crushing hug.

"We're really sorry sweetheart" Sam murmured into your hair, hugging you tightly against him, "we never wanted to hurt you, we love you baby, truly"

"You're special to us darling" Steve came over next, pressing a firm kiss to your head, his large arms holding you in a comforting embrace, "We're idiots, you didn't deserve that, don't leave because of us sweetheart, it's not the same without you"

"It's-its okay"

"It's not, we know it isn't but just know we really do love you, okay? Especially him" Steve whispered the last part with a small smile, looking over to his best friend who was anxiously shuffling on his feet, clutching the largest bear in his hands.

You hugged onto the two little teddies from Sam and Steve, kissing their cheeks before they quietly left you and Bucky alone for some privacy. You set them down on the sofa, suddenly feeling nervous when it was just you and Bucky, anxiety and embarrassment attempting to claw its way back up again.

"I'm so sorry bella" Bucky hesitantly reached out for you, scared you'd pull away, relief flooding his body when you allowed him to pull you in for a hug. "My pretty girl, m'so sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen baby"

"You-you really liked me after?" you felt silly for asking such a thing but you couldn't help it, you had to know, your soft doe eyes pleading with him to be honest with you, "You don't have to lie Bucky, it's okay if you didn't-

"You're breakin' my heart babygirl, of course I did. Of course I liked you sweets, I fell hard and fast for you, it would've happened with or without that stupid bed. I wouldn't have been able to resist that smile or that laugh, nothing would've kept me away from you"

Bucky scooped you into his arms and sat you down on his lap and he settled under the blanket fort, keeping you straddled on him while his hands wrapped around your waist.

"Believe me when I say you're the only girl I've ever fallen for, the only one I've ever wanted. I never ever wanted to hurt you baby and I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you never cry again, if you'd have me. I hate seeing you cry sweets, especially because of me. I just want to love you baby, please?"

His voice cracked at the end, bottom lip quivering as he nervously traced his thumbs along your hips. What if he lost you forever, he wouldn't know what to do with himself, not when he adored you so much.

"I love you y/n, you're my dream girl, my everything, no one else comes even close-"

You cut off his rambling, smashing your lips against his, a soft sob slipping past his lips between kisses as he desperately clung onto you.

"Do-do you forgive me?" Bucky sniffled, breathing out a sigh of relief when you pressed your forehead against his, nodding and slinging your arms around his shoulders. "Please say it angel, I-fuck-I'm so sorry, I missed you so much"

"I forgive you" you whispered, squeaking when Bucky pulled you to cuddle into the pile of pillows and blankets he'd laid out, wanting nothing more than to kiss and cuddle you between cute cheesy rom coms you loved so much. He smiled at the giggles you let out as he attacked you with unrelenting kisses again, breathing in your scent and feeling your body finally wrapped up with his again.

"I missed you so much angel"

"Missed you to Jamie" You kissed his nose, caressing his face as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, knowing Sam and Steve were probably creeping from some corner. "I love you"

"Love you more bella" Bucky smiled, letting you pick a movie, pulling a fluffy blanket up to cover you both. "Loved you from day one"

[theealbatross]

marry me (s.s.)

Plot | The 3 times Sebastian thought about marrying you and the 1 time he asked.

Tags | miscommunication, mentions of murder and poisonings, fluff, implied smut, dangerous idiots in love, fluff, 6k-ish words

A/N: sorry this took so long i went on a vacation! One of the funniest line about Ominis locking the two of them up was written by @/shinzhon in our discord server!

Series Masterlist - the rest of the chapters here

“Seriously Sebastian, how many times has it been this month?”

“It’s not my fault this time, I swear!”

“So, you slipped and somehow ended up in the Restricted Section? Is there some secret passage I hadn’t known about? Care to share to the class?” Ominis pinned him with a look and despite knowing his friend was blind Sebastian still raised his hands in surrender. Ominis sighed, there was no point really. When he had agreed to be friends with the troublesome boy in their first year he had signed up for this. It’s his fault for not seeing the mischievousness in those innocent brown eyes.

“I’m surprised,” Ominis continued as he started the trek back to their common room, the painful small talks he had with the headmaster in order to prevent anything getting sent to Solomon already fading as he got further away from the office. He could only imagine the absolute hell the old man would’ve sent their way if he had heard of his rendezvous in the Restricted Section. “It just isn’t like you.”

Sebastian scoffed, “To be in the Restricted Section? Where have you been the past year?”

“No, you idiot,” he hissed. “It isn’t like you to be caught.”

The falter in Sebastian’s steps had him raising an eyebrow, neck snapping back in accusation. “I’ve been caught once,” Sebastian reminded him quickly of the time Scribner first put the anti-Alohamora charm in the doors of the Restricted Section.

"I'm not finished," He’s hiding something. “It isn’t like you to be caught twice.”

He stopped on his track at the sound of Sebastian’s wince. “Okay, don’t be mad –”

“Oh no.”

“The new fifth-year needed some help to get in the restricted section because – well, I actually can’t tell you, she made me swear – and it’s bigger than the both of us and it was going so well! But Peeves caught just as we were about to –”

“Honestly, Sebastian, enough!”

He didn’t need to hear any of this.

Sebastian was right. Whatever great big mess that new kid was in the middle of was bigger than the both of them. And he has had more than enough on his plate trying to keep his friend out of trouble without the additional presence of another mysterious adrenaline junkie being thrown in the mix – one who was worryingly a magnet for big trouble. It was no wonder Sebastian was transfixed; he was looking at the damn mirror.

“Whatever fascination you have with that girl ends now,” It doesn’t escape him how much he sounded like a father getting in-between two lovers. He would’ve laughed in incredulity at the current situation he had found himself in if he wasn’t so bloody frustrated. “You get in enough trouble on your own, she doesn’t need to be sucking you up in her own problems.”

Sebastian makes a sound that doesn’t sound like a ‘yes, Ominis’ and the blond’s blood vessels nearly pop. He cannot believe this.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that. Honestly, she was brilliant! You should’ve been there; she took to the Disillusionment spell so quick that if we hadn’t let out guard down, we –”

“Oh, Merlin’s Beard, why don’t you marry the damn girl and the both of you leave me out of your tomfooleries!”

That would be ideal, he thinks. In a perfect world, he’s going to lock the two of them in a room and eat the key. There he would have no daily nuisances, won’t have to worry about sneaky Slytherins and the explosion of troubles they bring with them, and won’t need to suffer through Headmaster Black’s presence to get them out of it. A thankless job that brought nothing but headaches.

It was only when he was out of his blissful reverie that he realized his headache had stopped walking behind him seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

No.

“Sebastian … “

The other boy audibly flinched, his breath now irregular, and Ominis will bet all the galleons in the Gaunt’s vault that if he could see his old friend’s face would be as red as a Gryffindor’s arse right now.

He could almost cry, his palms producing embarrassing cold sweats at the absolute worst-case scenario unfolding in front of his unseeing eyes. “Please – I am begging you – not this one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh no, no, no.

Suddenly, the prospect of Sebastian and this troublemaker getting together was not that idyllic. In quick successions, all possible worst-case scenario popped in Ominis head. Sebastian was bad enough, if he had someone who was equally as reckless and rash as him it would be something out of his worst nightmare.

Ominis is a good person. This can’t be happening to him.

“Sebastian, listen to me –”

With only a breeze as his answer Sebastian skipped right past Ominis and up the grand staircase. Ominis could feel the heat of his face. “No time to talk. Got somewhere to be –”

“Sebastian, no!”

Why must it keep happening to him?

Sebastian was pretty sure the house in Feldcroft has not heard Anne’s laughter in a long, long time. Yet, here you were, huddled together with his sister, whispering giggle-worthy stories about him no doubt by the way your gaze kept fluttering back to him, and lifting the dreadful ooze that has monopolized the small space since his sister’s illness.

“Nice girl,” He had nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized his uncle had been sitting on the spare bed hidden by a curtain.

“Y-Yeah,” Merlin’s beard you even got his unpleasant uncle’s favor in such a short time – a miracle worker, truly. “She’s … quite something.”

Talking to him has always been awkward.

Even before Anne had gotten sick, he found it difficult to converse with the man who looked too much but was simultaneously nothing like his gentle, kind father. And maybe it was also the childish insistence that if he had let the man into his heart, he would betray his parents – his father – that he just couldn’t let him in. It would feel too much like replacing him so he just opted in letting Solomon linger at the precipice of his life and the man was more than happy to do so.

After all, if Solomon was nothing like his father, Sebastian was everything that reminded Solomon of his dead brother. And those were holes none of them could fill for each other.

“You know, your mother was the same,” Sebastian’s eyebrows raised, never hearing Solomon talk about her till now. “When she was a 7th year I was just starting in Hogwarts and let me tell you, I had little hope for that brother of mine of ever getting her attention.”

His uncle continued to stare at you like he was seeing a ghost – the good kind – not the kind he sees when he looks at him. “She was brilliant, loved by even the firmest professors. And was always willing to hold out a helping hand, even to lost first years whose ass of a brother left to go fend for himself in the confusing moving stairs of Hogwarts.”

Even Sebastian let out a chuckle at that ridiculous image. Sometimes he forgets that even his old uncle had once been a child. The thought is uncomfortable, especially looking at the man he is now. “I always told him he was out of his mind for courting your mother but did my crazy brother listen? Absolutely not.”

Where was he going with this?

Sebastian returned his eyes back to you.

Brilliant, admirable, courageous you.

With your bright smile that feeds his ego by always shining brighter with him. The recklessness that never fails to infuriate and impress on his last nerves. The kindness you innately had in you that makes him want to wrap you up in the finest silk then lock you up in an impenetrable room so nobody else may ever touch it – so nobody else may have you.

That would be best, he thinks.

“It would seem even that insanity he had passed on to you.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths so all his blood doesn’t go to his face, unable to look at the older man. “It’s not like that,” he cleared his throat, now unable to look at you. “We’re … friends.”

“A good … companionship is built upon friendship,” Sebastian’s head whipped to this uncle as if to say ‘how would you know?’ but his uncle just grunted, shrugging before standing up to busy himself in the kitchen, calling you out to assist and telling Anne to take her medicine.

A good companionship. He knows it’s a bit too early but the thought of it wasn’t as horrifying as he thought it would be. The budding interest he had in his new friend was pushed and shoved into the deepest nook of his brain – he had more pressing things to tend to, one that was more important than discerning why he could recognize the sound of her laughter in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall.

But if he really thinks about it, takes a moment to breathe and considers it … it would be nice. She’s had research interest but with her grades and skill being a renowned curse-breaker or even an auror isn’t out of the question. If he works hard, he knows he’d be able to keep up and support her and Anne – maybe even set up an apartment in the city, they can just visit his sister when they have the chance.

Of course,he will try to encourage her to settle back down in Feldcroft if Anne still lives here but Irondale is quite beautiful too, a good place to practice flying when they have a family, let his children experience a true childhood surrounded by peace and quiet – two kids would be nice. Twins run in the family so maybe he could convince her for another one if their first pair are of the same gender. He would really like a daughter who looks just like --

 “I like her.”

“Bloody hell!” Sebastian jumped when he realized his twin sister was now right in front of him while he was deep in his embarrassing delusions. (When did the members of his family become so sneaky?) She grinned at him as if she knew exactly what had him so distracted. To avoid her piercing stare, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he guided her in the little nook of her bedroom where all the vials full of her medicines were stored.

“I knew you would. ‘s why I brought her here.”

“Oh?” Anne nonchalantly drank a disgusting-looking fluid in one gulp. “So, it wasn’t cause you wanted to monopolize her and get ahead of your competition back at Hogwarts?”

Sebastian gawked, his entire body heating up from the accusation. “What – no, it’s not – I thought she would cheer you up!”

He quickly took a quick peek at the corner, relieved that you were too busy charming his uncle off to hear such absurd allegations against him. He wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression of him at all. After all, for how wondrous those visions are, he puts your friendship on a pedestal above anything else.

He thinks he’ll be more than content to be just your friend. Maybe.

“How gracious of you, brother,” Anne smirked, in this light it was almost like the old Anne.

Sebastian smirked at her, masking indifference, “I try.”

He should’ve known. Anne would be the one who might just see through all of him, even the things he likes to keep from his head. Even his most impossible dreams of cozy cottages and soft days.

“Sebastian!” The twins straightened up at your voice, both felt like they had been caught red-handed as you cheerfully rounded the corner. “Oh, was I interrupting –”

“No, not at all!” Anne pushed Sebastian firmly, making him stumble and catch himself just as he was about to crash into you. The proximity forces him to stare as your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He stops breathing.

You’ll look dazzling in white; he thinks.

“Your uncle told me your neighbor had some mint in their garden, said you could help me find it? It would go well with the juice.”

Sebastian’s eyes fell to your lips as you spoke before physically ripping his eyes out to look at your eyes, nodding, as his brain tried to keep up between his imagination and the reality of your face in front of his.  You grinned, already walking towards the door. He lets out a breath, the faint traces of your perfume that he gave you wafting an enchanting trail that kept his gaze on your retreating back.

“Get on with it,” Anne pushed him again and this time he gave her his deadliest glare as he followed after you. “You can’t hide her in Feldcroft forever.”

“Zip it.”

Solomon stood next to Anne as they stared at the two sweethearts in their own worlds as they made an adventure out of the small trip. Anne couldn’t help but giggle when Sebastian tripped because he was too busy looking at you instead of the road.

“Are men always this stubborn and stupid?”

“No,” Solomon grumbled, heart aching fondly when in a blink he could almost see a different mirage of figures that were both familiar and strangers at the same time. “He’s just his father’s son.”

“It’s over.”

Sebastian turned his head, straying his eyes away from the night sky framed by the room’s glass ceiling to look at you.  “It’s over.”

The two of you lay down on the floor of the room of requirement, sneaking away from the graduation party to spend the last moments of your life as a student in Hogwarts together. It wasn’t intentional, you had sneaked out for a proper goodbye to the sentient room and thanked it for everything it had provided for you but, like always, Sebastian had gotten ahold of your sneaking form before you could take two steps away from his side.

Sebastian can see that the inevitability of it all is making you emotional, a Hogwarts-shaped hole already forming in the crevices of your heart. The thought of no longer having this haven to escape the world's cruel realities makes him sigh.

“I’m terrified,” your whispered confession surprised him.

His gallant darling? Scared?

“What for?”

You smiled at him sheepishly. “It feels stupid but … I’m scared of things changing. I feel like that little girl again – 15 years old and alone in this great, big world I was thrust into.” Sebastian noticed a shudder crawl over your body. “And this time I won’t have a cheeky Slytherin lad to show me around.”

Sebastian frowned, unsure if he was more disappointed at you for thinking you would lose him that easily or at himself for not nailing that the two of you were tethered forevermore in that bright head of yours.

Instead, he took your shaking hands that you tried to hide and held on to it tight.

You smiled up at him. “Promise to stay in touch?”

He could almost scoff at such an understatement of a request. Do you know I’m never letting you go?

“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” he grinned, hoping to charm the rest of your remnant fears away. “I expect weekly letters while I’m away from training.”

You scrunched your nose, which he thinks is just adorable “What? So you can brag to your fellow trainees you have a lovesick lady waiting for you at home?”

He laughed at that, eyes crinkling and heart racing, “Maybe I should keep a photo of you plastered on my wall then, really commit to the part. A pretty face like you on my walls should make me the envy of my entire group.”

Her laugh came out nervous, her grip on his hands tightened. She’s still scared.

If only he had been sorted in Gryffindor maybe then he would’ve been daring enough to say something. To fall to his knees in this room and let his forehead kiss the ground and beg you to stay with him, run away with him, marry him. To let him spend the rest of his lowly life making sure you will never be lonely again.

But the fates were cruel and for all his pretense of confidence, the gods’ honest truth is he is a coward. A coward with no prospects.

If he wants your hand he needs to prepare, to follow the plan he had mapped out since the night he had realized he would very much like to spend the rest of his life with you or die trying. He might not be worth anything for now but he’ll make himself enough.  He just needs to hold on … just two more years – it’s all he asks.

Just two years for him to establish himself, to become someone, to earn the right to ask you. He knows it will be hard, you’ll be engrossed in your own research and won’t be able to see him as he trains to be an auror. And there was always a risk of you meeting someone else but he’s already made Poppy swear to report everything to him while she accompanies you in your travels, a contingency plan for any hurdle that may put a wrench in his plans.

If all of this fails then so be it, but he won’t lose you from a lack of planning or trying.

“Why are you looking at me like that?

He didn’t realize he was staring at you while his thoughts ran wild. The dark of your eyes reflected the ceilings you had charmed with the sky of the Forbidden Forest. The dim hue of the room made you look ethereal, like a forest fairy sent to lead him to a beautiful doom. He’d follow you anywhere.

Is it too soon to tell you I love you?

Is it too late?

“Have I ever told you that you’re the only one I need?” Sebastian suddenly whispered, vulnerable.

It’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to say for now, placating the intensity of his need to be close to you by properly laying on his side and pressing a firm hand on your cheeks as you followed his lead, your own loosely dangling on his waist.

“Don’t you think Ominis will be quite offended by that?” you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on his spine.

He couldn’t help but match your grin, “He’ll live.”

“Sebastian,” your words quiet but he moved his hand at the back of your head to pull you in closer, muffling your following words on his chest. “Promise me nothing will change?”

Sebastian’s hold on you tensed, pressing the gentlest kiss at the top of your head to silence his protests.

No, he wants to scream. Everything has to change.

He’ll change everything for you.

“I promise,” he lies.

He’s no Gryffindor, after all.

[ 5 years later ]

“I almost fucking killed you!”

You rolled your eyes, which was a bad idea considering the curse that malfunctioned in Gringott’s brought upon a gaggle of Inferis along with a mutated one that grew about ten feet tall. Before it could lunge straight at your head, Sebastian – Merlin’s beard, he was still as handsome as the day you had left Hogwarts – pulled you into him before casting a Protego followed by a Confringo, blasting the undead’s arm away.

Still his favorite after all these years.

“What? You become a bigshot Auror and forget my face?!”

With an Incendio, the rest of the Inferis were now weakened enough that Sebastian was able to finish them all in one go (bloody hell!). Giving you time to gather yourself and lash out a heavy burst of ancient magic to take care of the giant Inferi once and for all.

You wobbled from the effort but firm hands and a chest caught you. When you looked up you were greeted by a cantankerous Sebastian covered in dust and dirt.

“As if I could see your face in those ridiculous glasses you’re wearing. Is that a lizard’s eye?”

You pulled on the offending thing, turning and standing on your tiptoes to put it on him, then he could see that it helps with seeing the traps laid out around the vault. “Satisfied your inquiries, Mr. Auror?”

He pushed the glasses to the top of his head, still looking down at you with a suspicious glare. Damn him and damn the entire male race for their inability to stop growing their limbs. “I should have you arrested. Illegally breaking into Gringots? What were you thinking?”

“Please, any curse-breaker you sent this way would’ve been eaten by that curse, I barely got out with my life if not for my ancient magic.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows twitched in the familiar way when he wasn’t particularly fond of you – which usually only happens when you throw yourself in danger … like today. Old habits die hard.

“I –”

“Save it,” he raised a palm. You sucked your lips into a thin line comically – it has been half a decade since you last saw him after all, you’re not entirely quite sure If this Sebastian in front of you would hesitate in throwing his prodigal best friend into the cold stone walls of a ministry ordained prison. “You owe me.”

Before he could, you fired off a blast of ancient magic behind him, crushing the lone Inferi that was bidding its time under a rock. You smirked. “Are we even now?”

“Not even fucking close,” His face was blank, unamused. Sebastian’s patience has never been the longest but this is one of the few times his ire was aimed at you, the novelty of it would make you blush if you weren’t so guilty. “Where have you been?”

This time it was your smile that fell, eyes dropping with it in shame. Straight to it, huh.

“Sebastian … I left a lett –“

“A letter! You call that a letter?!” He guffawed, turning his back on you and started pacing just at the ledge that led to a very, very, long fall to the bottom of Gringotts. Your fingers twitched to reach out for him but you had a feeling he wasn’t particularly interested in getting mothered right now as he spiraled out the words you’re sure he had surely been holding the past years. “My dearest friend, one who fights trolls for practice and is the most wanted woman of all dark wizards in the country disappears without a trace even when I spent an entire year searching for her –”

He looked for you?

“—but oh no! All is well Sebastian, she left you a bloody note!”

You felt like a reprimanded toddler but maybe (just maybe) you deserved it. “It wasn’t my finest moment.”

Something in your words snapped the last of Sebastian’s nerve. The gall of you – to stand here like it was nothing. The days he had spent tracking you, dreading the moment he would be greeted by your corpse.

How dare you leave? How dare you leave him? Of all the people in this world you were the one who was supposed to stay on his side.

‘I’ll be back. I promise. I just need time’

He marched to where you were standing, cupping both of your shoulders so you can look at him. “I will be given an explanation.”

Instead, your eyes fell on his left hand. He followed your line of sight, the gold band around his finger making all your cruelest nightmares come true.

How did it come to this? You scoured your memories of your entire friendship – how had the two of you come from being unable to keep a single secret from each other to strangers that have too many unspoken grievances in between them?

Was this inevitable?

Finally, you gathered your strength. He did deserve the truth from you of all people. And you could truly never keep a secret from Sebastian even now – which is also why you left. The shame, the unjustified anger, the hurt in your chest when you looked at him – you couldn’t handle it.

“I … I heard from Leander.”

His frown deepened. What does Leander have anything to do with this?

“I was going to visit you on the last weekend of your training. Then Leander caught me in town and he said … he said that after you had finished your auror training you were planning to propose, that you were already looking for a ring.”

He is going to kill that orange blabbermouth fuc –

“I couldn’t – surely, you couldn’t be that daft. I … I loved you, Sebastian! And I know I’m your friend and I should’ve been there for you. And I really am – I am happy for you,” you took his hand, your gentle touch shakily running through the gold band around his ring finger as you tried to hold back the tears. It felt like it was mocking you, like it could burn a mark on your skin. “If anyone deserves to build a family it would be you. I just … in that moment I couldn’t be happy for you. I needed to remove myself from the situation and I couldn’t say goodbye – you wouldn’t have let me! I panicked and I was hurt and … I really am sorry. I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”

As humiliating as it was to say all the hurt that you were carrying with you as you traveled the world to escape your love for him it did make you feel lighter. Were you a coward? Maybe so. But you will not shame your past self for what she did out of hurt and fear. It was painful but necessary.

It wasn’t until Sebastian was cupping your face and wiping your cheeks with his thumb that you realized you had been crying.

“Darling, who did you think the ring was for?”

You blinked, “What?”

You could tell he was trying to lengthen his patience with you, clearly as he was the more emotionally stable one at the moment even though it looked like he was at the precipice of choking you. "Have I ever told you that I was courting anyone?”

The conversation was taking a turn you weren't expecting. “N-No, but Leander and Everett used to keep teasing you about the Ministry girls that was always at your tail so I just assumed …”

He raised his eyebrows, holding onto your cheeks tighter so you had to look at him. For the first time in your entire friendship, you couldn’t read him at all. “I assumed you became interested in one of them.”

He sighed, “No, sweetheart. I did not become interested in any of them.”

You frowned, still feeling the cold ring on your cheek. “Then who did you marry?”

“I’m … not married.” This time it was him who seemed to blush, actually breaking eye contact to chuckle. When he looked back at you it was like you were getting a peek of the boyish Sebastian you once knew. “I would have been if the beautiful witch I had been chasing did not disappear on me right when I was about to propose.”

His words sunk into you like molasses, the wrinkle in between your eyebrows disappearing as your eyes widened in realization. Surely, he doesn’t mean –

“I just wore it since I would’ve been wearing it either way if someone had said yes. And it’s a more effective way to ward off any hopefuls. A little white lie to cover up my bruised heart and spare their egos”

“Wait, wait –“you tried to push him away but one of his arms just wrapped around your back, pushing your chest to his. He wasn’t going to let you get away this time, if he has to cast a binding spell on you without your knowledge then so be it.

The past five years had been torture enough.

“I guess it’s what I deserved. Letting the love of my life wait around just because my pride wanted me to earn the right to ask for her hand. The Hero of Hogwarts, the brightest witch of our age – surely, I couldn’t just ask her, could I?”

The abundance of information threatened to drown your head in. Pieces of the grand puzzle that never seemed to fit right clicking and clacking in your head as you slowly pieced together the blanks in the history of your relationship because you didn’t bother to ask and he didn’t bother to say anything.

He means you right? He was going to propose to you? The bloody ring you’ve been having nightmares about was for you?!

But he had never … I mean sure you flirted here and there but it was nothing … official. No words were ever shared, no announcements, nor formality.

It was all very … murky and ambiguous.

“Hey, back to me, darling,” he gently pressed his thumb that was still holding on to your cheek. “I swear even when we’re together it’s like you’re still running away.” As if suddenly lost in thought himself he murmured, “Should I charm a chain on you, after all?”

You blinked and the dark glint in his eyes that you had only seen in his darkest moments in your fifth year disappeared, now replaced with a small cheeky smile.

“Sebastian, the ring was it – surely it wasn’t –”

“For you?” He was so close now that you could count all the freckles in his face, his lips running through your cheeks, even pressing a kiss on your temple. “Then riddle me this, my love – if not for you then who else would it be for? Hmm? Who else would I be begging to be my wife if not my most treasured friend? The one person who stood beside me through it all?”

Another kiss on your cheeks. “The only light in my life?”

The underside of your jaw. “The beautiful witch who had rudely stolen my heart when we were children then had the nerve to run away with it just as I was able to gather all the courage I had to ask for hers in return?”

He moved both of his hands to wrap around your waist, pulling and pulling and pulling as if he wanted to meld the two of you together. “Who else but you? There was and would’ve been nobody else but you.”

A shadow of a kiss at the edge of your lips. “You’re the only woman I have ever loved.”

Your heart threatens to explode.

“And you’re the only one I will ever love,” he whispered, but the quiet of the caves of Gringotts made his voice echo inside your overheating skull.

You had been aware of Sebastian’s charms when you were younger but now that he was using his pretty face and raspy voice at its full extent while professing his love for you in the murky caves of Gringotts and pieces of Inferi corpses scattered on the ground – you could almost feel your brain malfunctioning.

“I had resigned myself to a life of isolation if you had never come back,” he declared. “But you did. Why?”

He was not going to accept anything less than the truth. The intensity behind his eyes, the grip he has around you was so firm you were almost hanging off the ground. The unbearable weight of your guilt for almost driving this man to insanity even if it had not been your intention had you letting go of your defenses.

“Because I missed you,” you admitted, eyes looking straight at him to finally bare your soul. “And I couldn’t find anything the world could offer that could compare to you. Even if we just remained friends I –”

His chuckle cut you off.

“We could never just be friends,” he whispered, you couldn’t agree more. “We were never just friends. Darling, I’m not a religious man but if soulmates are real then yours and mine have always been tied to each other. And if whatever god is up there was cruel enough not to have done that then I would’ve knotted it myself.”

You giggle through your tears – you had played out so many fantasies of Sebastian’s confessions and yet now that you were living your wildest dreams it felt like your heart was trying to escape your chest.

“If you hadn’t come back, it would’ve done nothing short of killing me, you have to know that,” a ragged breath escapes him as if the mere memory of your escape were enough to cause him physical pain. “Because I love you and I have always loved you even back when I didn’t know what love is. Even when love was a mere flutter in my chest every time I looked at you. Even when I was a fool in a path to destruction I … I have always, always loved you.”

You nodded, almost gasping at the intensity of his words. “I love you too, Sebastian. So much. I would’ve always come back. I couldn’t – I would’ve honestly poisoned your wife if you had married another.”

A laugh exploded out of his mouth at your sudden proclamation, echoing through the eerie corners of the caves. “And I had more than enough daydreams of torturing any lovers you might’ve taken in your travels.” The sickly-sweet tone that contrasted such horrid words had you giggling.

“Think we should stick to each other then?” You roped an arm around his neck, letting him carry your dead weight. “Spare some poor suckers from poisons and murders.”

He grinned, leaning in closer and closer, “You always had been the one with bright ideas.”

You smiled just as he finally pressed his lips into yours. Even your wildest dream couldn’t compare to this. Sebastian’s greedy grip on your waist, his familiar scent, his taste – him. It wasn’t perfect – a bit too rough, too needy yet somehow never enough – it was better, a perfect amalgamation of your entire relationship.

“Marry me,” he commanded in between kisses, too desperate to separate from you for more than a second. “Tell me you’ll have me.”

“You’re mine,” You gasp when he suddenly turned you around and pressed you on the jagged wall of the cave. “Always been mine.”

You’ve never not been mine.

Suddenly, Sebastian ended your kisses, a whine slipping out of your throat which he placated with a quick peck before he haphazardly pulled a necklace of some kind around his neck, snapping it to let the pendant fall into his palms.

Only it wasn’t a pendant. It was a ring. The ring.

“Oh my, Sebastian,” your vision blurs with tears as he gently takes your shaking hand, slipping the beautiful jewelry on your ring finger where it shall sit forever. “It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to marry you.”

He groaned, pressing his forehead to your temple as you continued to admire the ring on your finger.

“You keep buttering me up like this and I’ll have to kidnap the first priest I see when we get out of here.”

“I wouldn’t object to that, we’ve never been one for propriety.”

“I can’t believe we had our first kiss in Gringott’s of all places,” he muttered, the vibration of his voice tickling your chest as he buries his face in it.

“That wasn’t my first kiss.”

That had his head snapping, eyes murderous at your words. "What?”

“It wasn’t yours either.”

“Huh.”

You nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact as he tries to scour through his memories.

“Remember our fight in the Room of Requirement? About the Triwizards game?”

He winced. “I’d rather not remember that.”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

You settled back, knowing him well enough to know his mind was rapidly working through his memories to figure out the cryptic declaration you had confessed.

It had been frustrating when you had remembered such important event days after it happened. All it had taken was a faint whiff of Sebastian’s shampoo in your pillow in the room of requirement before you were shooting up in your bed at the memories trickling in your brain as you tried to figure out if it had been one of your more apparent daydreams only to scream when you had realized it had happened and the two of you completely forgot about it.

You had become wary of Sebastian then, staring and studying his face at any hint that he also had the luck of remembering such bold confessions from you. You aren’t sure if you were more relieved or disappointed when he showed no inkling of gaining the curse of such knowledge like you.

But at your sudden engagement to him, you believe you have suffered enough of such vexations alone. You are to be married after all which means the two of you shall share every burden from now on -- even the most embarrassing and frustrating ones.

Sebastian’s muscles locked, pushing himself up to cage you in bed as his frantic eyes widened.

You grin. He remembers.

“No fucking way.”

“Yes way.”

He slumps back down in your chest, groaning. “Are you sure you're okay with marrying a bloody idiot?”

Your body shakes with laughter. “Lucky for you, idiots are just my type.”

[littlejuicebox]

Milk.

Back again for the third time today, this time with some porn with a plot.

I'm really on one with the Dadstarion fics. Something has been unleashed inside me, people.

I need to edit all these headers at some point.

Warnings: babies, angst w comfort, smut, nipple play, breast milk, breast milk drinking, breeding kink, daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of soft dom Astarion vibes, 18+ only please

A/N: Most of you already know I'm a degenerate.

-----

Astarion had been uncharacteristically melancholy this week.

Sure, it wasn’t unusual to witness him in one of his moods of irritation or frustration, particularly when some business deal or another was not going particularly well, or a contract he’d already drafted more times than he could count came back to him with more rebuttals.

But to witness this cloud of sadness around your husband, especially after Gale’s birth, was odd. He’d been the picture of domestic joy and fatherhood, completely over the moon in his new role. He even wore the sleeplessness better than you in the first few months, happy to assist where he could so that his little love could get more valuable rest.

However, just recently, his mood had become detached and distant. Everything he did and said seemed tinged with worry or sadness. It reminded you of the spawn version of Astarion from several years ago, almost always caught in a poor memory or concerning line of thought. That version of Astarion hadn’t shown up in a while. You couldn’t be sure what triggered it.

“Gale’s getting quite good at holding his head up,” You inform your husband as you crawl into bed with him after just putting the three-month-old down for the evening.

“That’s wonderful news, darling.” Astarion replies, with that same distant, pensive air he’s addressed you with all week as he focuses on the book in his lap.

You sigh, and put your hand over the book, obscuring the pages and forcing the elf to acknowledge you, “What is it, Astarion? You’ve been in this… mood all week and I’m beginning to worry you’re regretting parenthood.”

Your husband’s eyebrows crinkle as he places the book on his nightstand, staring at you with a mixture of shock, hurt and confusion, “Darling, do you truly think that? What have I done besides absolutely dote on Gale? And on you!”

You realize you’ve misspoken. You see the wounds on your husband’s face as he assesses you, and your hands come to his cheeks, searching his eyes, “No, no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I know you don’t regret Gale… I just. I’m worried, Astarion. You seem… sad. Lost in thought in a way I haven’t seen in years and… I don’t know why.”

There is a moment of silence as Astarion’s eyes flash through several thoughts, filtering through a week's worth of garbled noise within his mind. And then he sighs, “I…” he pauses and blinks, forcing himself to meet your gaze, “I’m worried that I won’t be the right masculine role model for Gale. That I’m not strong enough to show him… to show him how to be a good man.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. You cannot even think of something to say, because this certainly wasn’t the direction you thought Astarion would take. He was always quite self-assured in his talents and never hesitant to be the true version of himself after the parasite fiasco over a decade ago.

He continues, “I don’t live in the woods, or whatever it is exactly Halsin does. I’m not an especially talented spell caster like Gale. And I’m fair with a blade but it’s been years since I’ve had use for one and I don’t have the level of training nor regular practice like Wyll nowadays, dear. I review contracts and make investments; I run the winery. I embroider. I’m not exactly the picture of masculinity in comparison to… others.”

There is a moment of quiet between the two of you. Concerned tears form in your husband’s eyes, which he quickly blinks away.

“Astarion… you are the strongest man I know.” You murmur, running a finger along the elf’s cheek as he scoffs and shakes his head. His eyes jerk away from your face; clearly, he does not believe you.

You gasp in shock as you cup his face harder, willing the elf to understand how serious you are. You continue, vehemently, “My love. You cannot seriously believe otherwise! You have endured more than any of us could ever imagine. Over 200 years of… horrible atrocities. And then you came out on the other side of that, after having sacrificed so much — and Astarion, do not ever forget how much you willingly sacrificed — to be better. To choose differently. To be so much more.”

You are ripping the blankets away and crawling into your husband’s lap now, wrapping your limbs around his torso. His head comes to the side of your neck as you hold him, hoping to convey the love and respect you have for the elf with the warmth of your arms. Your fingers latch into the curls on the back of his neck as you speak in a reverent whisper, urging him to believe you.

“I watched you endure years without the sun in more stride than I could have possibly thought. And you are perhaps softer than you were when we met, yes. But this version of you gives me and Gale everything we need and more. I cannot imagine someone stronger or more courageous than you, my love. And I think you have forgotten how much strength it took for you to become this soft in the first place. I love this version of you. And Gale has a wonderful, loving, strong father in this version. Please do not ever doubt that.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgement comes from your husband, but no other words escape him as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck and envelopes your lips in a soft kiss. A thank you.

Your heart is pounding from the passion with which you spoke, and when Astarion’s lips press into yours, that passion and love begins to flow throughout your body. Pieces of you start to wake.

It had been a while since you two were intimate. Not since before Gale's birth. Days and nights had recently been filled with parenthood and left little time nor energy for much else. But as Astarion pushes forward, wrapping his arms around your back, you feel the stirrings of desire deep in your core. A soft moan leaves you as a fire begins to grow where mere glowing embers had been left several months ago.

Astarion must be feeling the same pull, because his hand trails from your back and sneaks under your nightdress to brush along your thigh. He slowly traces up the length of your leg to cup your bottom while he deepens the kiss with a soft, breathy moan of his own. He’s flexing his hips up toward you, the growing bulge in his trousers begging for further stimulation. Your lover’s tongue swipes along your lower lip, asking for entry, and your mouth opens to accept the swirling heat of desire from the elf.

He explores your mouth and caresses your bottom for a while, tenderly, slowly, and in no rush to further things along despite the mutual growing desire between your two bodies. It’s you that finally breaks the kiss before ripping your night dress over your head, exposing two heavy, milk-laden breasts in the process. Astarion brings the hand not kneading into your ass to cup your breast before thumbing the pert nipple.

You gasp, and your husband’s brows crinkle for a moment as he pauses his ministrations.

“Too sensitive?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your other breast.

“No, keep going,” You urge him, closing your eyes and rolling your hips forward to grind into his groin. He bucks forward to meet you instinctively.

He tentatively thumbs the nipple again and you moan in response. Without thinking much about it, Astarion brings his mouth to the other breast and wraps his lips around the bud before sucking gently. You release an ecstatic keen in response when his teeth graze against the tender flesh. You are continuing to roll your hips into him when he suddenly retracts from your chest with a shocked gasp.

Your eyes snap open, and you catch the final glimpse of your husband wiping breast milk from the side of his mouth as his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink. And then you feel your own embarrassment growing as rosy patches flush across your chest and cheeks. You quickly move to cover your breasts.

“I-I’m sorry,” You whisper, “it slipped my mind. I forgot about the…”

You’re thinking the moment’s ruined, and moving to climb off your husband, but he quietly brings his hand to your waist and stills you. His eyes search yours silently for a moment, and you’re still so consumed by your own embarrassment that all you can do is stare dumbly back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

But then Astarion lifts one of his hands to your own, slowly lowering it from where it had been covering your breast. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he once again leans forward and wraps his lips around the nipple, sucking gently. Warm milk flows into his mouth and you inhale sharply, unable to look away as your husband removes his lips from your breast, opens his mouth to show you the white liquid, and then closes his mouth and swallows.

He swallows.

And then he smirks up at you with a self-satisfied, mischievous glint in his eyes that causes the slickness between your legs to instantly double.

Gods, this man.

You are convinced your entire body is flushing red at this point as Astarion slowly brings his other hand up to palm the flesh of your breast.

“Would you like daddy to do it again?” He purrs before his tongue laps circles around the side of your heavy tit.

“I— gods, yes.” You respond, blinking down at the elf.

“Okay. But you have to ask me very, very nicely, little love.” He responds teasingly as he trails kisses to your other breast, waiting for you to say something.

“Please suck my nipple,” You whisper, eagerly rolling your groin into your husband's raging erection.

But Astarion doesn’t do what he’s asked. Instead, he’s teasing the bud with the flat of his tongue and humming contentedly, waiting for something from you.

“Please suck my nipple, daddy.” You amend, and the elf instantly engages his lips around your other breast with a soft groan. He’s drinking with vigor as your hands find the curls at the nape of his neck and take hold. Before long he’s retracting again, his mouth full of liquid gold.

And he pulls the same maneuver. Mouth open, flashing the white liquid as he looks directly into your eyes. Mouth closed. Swallow. Devious smile.

“It’s delicious, you know.” He murmurs as you stare at him, still in shock and still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that you are actually enjoying this. His hands come to either breast, both now significantly lighter, and he fondles the soft tissue.

“You shouldn’t be so surprised that you like this darling, I distinctly remember a time when I made you orgasm by mere nipple play alone.” He whispers, a glint of that cocky rogue playing across his face before he trails kisses up your chest and along your neck.

“Gods, Astarion,” You respond, “I need you inside me, now.”

You’re done with the foreplay. Your husband has you ridiculously hot and bothered, and it’s been far, far too long. You're on your knees, which are straddled on either side of his hips as you urgently tug at the waistband of his trousers, trying to work his pants and underclothes off in one motion. But your husband is purposely resisting and refusing to lift his hips, watching you with that same arrogant smile.

Oh, he's toying with you.

“Darling, why am I always the one dirty talking you?” He asks, pulling back from your neck and cocking his head just slightly as he studies your face.

“I— what?” You ask, still pulling insistently at his waistband.

“I’m always the one charming the pants off of you, dear. In over ten years, it’s never really been the other way around. But you know that I love to hear your beautiful words.” He continues, moving one of his hands to stroke between your still-clothed folds.

“Astarion, please fuck me.” You try as you struggle to keep your composure. The slickness of your cunt is making obscene noises as he expertly maneuvers between your slit, watching your expression attentively as you come undone.

He chuckles darkly as he brings his lips to your breast once again, trailing kisses along the side of the flesh, “I think you can do better than that, my love.”

You groan in dismay as the bastard continues to tease you. Several months without sex and somehow you’re still the desperate one while he’s effortlessly maintaining his cool.

“What do you want daddy to do to you, darling?” He purrs, teasingly, as his other hand that isn’t stroking between your legs trails across your skin to fondle your ass once again.

“I want you to fuck me and fill me with your seed.” You whine as his ministrations on your clit become more insistent. You’re trying to play into his desires, to convince him to stretch you open with his thick cock.

Your legs are trembling now. He’s going to make you come embarrassingly fast. You know it. He knows it.

“Won’t you beg me, my love?” He murmurs as his eyes trail across your chest, admiring your larger-than-usual breasts before his gaze locks back onto yours, fingers still strumming your clit, now adding more pressure, “You know I love to hear your sweet little pleas.”

“Please— Astarion. Please, daddy. Please fuck me. Breed me like your good little wife and fill me with—“

You gasp and then moan as your orgasm rips through you with little warning, drenching your husband’s hand in your arousal. The release causes your legs to turn into jelly, and Astarion uses the opportunity to quickly maneuver you into a new position. You are sitting on the side of the bed, and he is now standing, quickly lowering his trousers.

His cock springs free, and the sight causes your eyes to widen in shock. It’s so engorged that the head is slowly turning from that gorgeous pink to a deep purple, begging for release. Thin rivulets of pre-cum are falling in strings from the tip; much of his shaft is glistening from the same evidence of his arousal.

Astarion glances down at his own erection and then warns, “It’s been a while darling, not quite certain how long I will last.”

“Just get inside me already, daddy.” You plead and that’s enough to make your husband growl as he strokes his own member once, twice, prepping himself. He peels your drenched undergarments down your legs and tosses them aside.

As Astarion’s cock slides between your folds you gasp. Gods, it really has been too long. And then he’s pressing into you slowly, groaning deeply with the amount of effort it’s taking him to not release his spend right upon entry into your tight cunt. When he reaches the hilt, the elf stills for a moment and lowers himself down to kiss your lips before pressing his forehead against yours. And then Astarion is slowly rolling his hips, his mouth hanging open in a gasp at the delicious sensation of your walls clenching around him before he closes his eyes to focus.

It isn’t long before he's losing control. Your husband normally prides himself on being a consummate lover; it’s quite typical that he brings you to orgasm twice before finding his own release. But it has been quite some time and perhaps holding off in an attempt to hear your pleas wasn’t as easy for him as it appeared on the outside.

“Gods, darling. You feel so perfect.” The elf pants, almost breathless, his hips stuttering as he jerkily thrusts into you, trying and failing to maintain some rhythm as the pleasure overwhelms him, “So perfectly wet and tight.”

“Come inside me, daddy.” You whisper as you bring your hand to the side of Astarion’s face.

The command shocks him. Like you, he’s suddenly coming with very little warning. His eyes rip open as he’s spilling into you with a loud groan, his cock jerking inside your walls where he’s instinctively buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck-- gods, Tav--" He hisses through the waves of pleasure racking his body as his eyes roll back. His thighs are trembling as his member continues to throb, spilling several streams of hot, thick seed into you as you watch his face in awe. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed. You love the way he looks when he loses control.

You smile and kiss your husband gently as he comes down from his high, your hand stroking his cheek. And then he’s laughing and pressing his forehead back against yours. A few of his curls fall haphazardly and you reach up to lovingly comb them back into place.

“You are… still full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks as he slowly withdraws from you, causing the slickness from your lovemaking to run down your thighs and into the sheets.

“I thought you would like it,” You offer shyly, now somewhat embarrassed at your own crassness as the tides of passion recede.

“Oh, I certainly did, darling.” Your lover reassures you as he bends down to retrieve his trousers from the floor, "You cheeky little degenerate."

Just then, Gale lets out a sharp cry from the nursery. You move to stand up, but your husband stops you with a gentle hand and a soft, adoring smile.

“I’ll go and get him. Don’t waste the seed still inside you, dear. Give it a few more precious moments to try and do its thing, hm?” Astarion says, partly teasing and partly serious as he shoots you a wink before heading out the bedroom door to retrieve the infant.

This one won’t take, you know as much. You aren’t ovulating. But as you watch the love of your life exit the room on his way to retrieve the other love of your life, you think you may actually be ready to start trying for another one sometime soon. You know Astarion is simply waiting for your cue.

Anything for daddy. 

[holllandtrash]

fragile line | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

what happens when the driver daniel falls in love with, ends up being the one who brings his career to a screeching halt? word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: fluff-ish, plot with implied/very little smut, angst, mclaren danny, zak brown (gross), some incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps, really just a lot of angst, its a rollercoaster

“What do you know?”

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you, the emphasis making it clear as day that you both carried the same career-altering information. 

His signature grin and comforting optimism were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Daniel’s expression could be described in a variety of ways. Solemn, disappointed, hurt. 

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, going straight to the defensive. You couldn’t be helpful in this scenario, you just needed to explain yourself. He wouldn’t understand it from your perspective, but you had to try. 

“Not take the seat,” he offered a solution, as if it was that simple. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you corrected. You had no say in this. McLaren had plenty of driver options for the 2023 season. There were rumours of Daniel’s contract coming to an end a year early anyway, everyone heard them, everyone ignored them. The only thing that remained uncertain for a while was who would replace him should the rumours be true.

You. 

“You don’t even like McLaren.” You told him, voice raising a little as if that helped get the point across. “You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Daniel noticed the way your bottom lip quivered. He caught the way your eyes dropped from his, even just for a split second. There was something unspoken between you, something that weighed on your mind and Daniel stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly it was. 

“Zak-” you started, reluctant to even say this. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

Here meaning Daniel’s flat in Monaco. The place you spent more nights at than your own. You played it off by saying his view was better but that was such a bullshit answer. Daniel’s flat always felt more like home than yours ever did. 

You had formally met the Australian driver a few years ago, but god did time fly. It was at a race in Monza. You could pretend you didn’t know the date but of course you did, you had it memorised. September 3rd, 2020. There was no way you could forget the day your life changed for the better. 

Or possibly, for the worse. It was up in the air at this point. 

You were new to the Formula 2 series. The only female driver on the grid as you raced with Prema alongside Mick Schumacher. F3 proved to be quite a successful stint for you and you had your eyes set on the coveted Formula 1 series. You wanted to be in the big leagues. 

Daniel saw that. He saw how determined you were to not only make waves in Motorsport, but to make something of yourself. You trained just as hard, if not harder than the other drivers in the junior series and Daniel had seen that for a while. He was often surprised to see you at the hotel gym, already working up a sweat when he walked in at a little after 6am. He would be even more surprised when he saw you there in the evening when other drivers went and called it a night or even went and celebrated. 

Your race weekends were the same as F1 weekends, but you just had limited ones. It was a shorter season, less intense, but whenever you were there. Daniel saw you. He saw you and he paid attention. He even rooted for you, very publicly as well whenever he could, despite the two of you never having exchanged a word. 

The first time you heard about Daniel cheering you on was after the Monaco race, quite early on into your first season. You qualified 7th, not ideal for a track like Monaco where the opportunities to overtake were far and few between, but somehow you did it. And then you did it again. And you could say it was luck but it was really smart strategy and an insane amount of driver skill that had you finishing fifth. In Monaco. 

Those were Daniel’s words. He was asked pre-race if he watched the F2 run and he said of course. He said he “wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” wanting to see what you could do this weekend. 

“It’s not luck, she’s incredibly talented,” Daniel had told the Sky Sports reporter. “She’s doing big things in the series, and I’m rooting for her. Truly. It’s rare a driver comes around with such raw natural talent, where you look at them and you know racing’s just in their blood, but it’s in hers. I would love to see her in Formula 1 one day.”

You watched that interview clip about twenty times. Daniel Ricciardo, the Daniel Ricciardo who had won Monaco a few years back, was complimenting you. He was rooting for you. 

It wasn’t until Monza, nearing the end of your season that he finally approached you. 

“I want to work with you,” Daniel said, straight to the point. You were in the middle of stretching in the hotel's fitness centre. It was only Thursday, the race weekend itself had barely started but Daniel knew he’d find you in there. 

You pulled your airpods out and looked up at him in the mirror, “You what?”

“I want to work with you,” Daniel repeated, this time sitting down on the floor next to you. He kept your stare in the reflection. “I’m not a trainer by any means, but I want to work with you. I want to see you in Formula 1.”

You were flattered, honoured really, but you didn’t know what that entailed. “Work with me how?”

“Well, regular fitness training for starters,” he said. “But managing, really. I want to help you with everything that it takes to move up. Media training, mental preparedness, finding sponsors, getting you in touch with the right people. Let me help you, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what brought this on. Part of you was convinced it was because he knew this would look good on his behalf. If you did make it to Formula 1 and Daniel’s name was attached to yours, he’d look like a genius. A hero. He would be known as the first person from F1 to publicly support you. 

But that wasn’t what it was at all. When you agreed and accepted his help, you soon came to learn that Daniel didn’t want to be in your spotlight at all. He found the opportunities that you needed and then stepped back. He didn’t mention to the media at all that he was helping you, he didn’t see a need to. He saw your potential and he truly wanted to help you make something off.

So there he was during the off season, meeting you in London where you resided. He trained with you, set you up with the right people, did weekly check-ins, he really was like a sort of manager. 

He was there during pre-season testing the following year, literally. He stood in the Prema garage like he was just another member of the team. No one really questioned it, not when you said he was acting as a mentor to you. Everyone loved Daniel’s presence there and he was told he was welcome whenever. 

He was there during race weekends whenever he could find time in his own busy schedule. He was never there during the actual race, needing that time to prepare for his own, but he always watched from his drivers room or had someone in his ear updating where you were and what was happening.

He was there in Silverstone, when you crashed during Saturday's Sprint Race.

It was one of the last sessions of the day, Daniel had already finished qualifying and he was standing in the back of your garage, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued to the screen. 

He was the first voice you heard when you spun, losing the breaks in mere seconds and all you could do was brace yourself for the impact of the barriers. 

“Tell me you’re okay.” Daniel’s voice came through your radio. Not your engineer, not your team principal. Daniel. “Say something, sweets, tell me you're okay.”

Sweets, he called you. But only ever in private, or in front of close friends. What started as a joke when you complained about him not having any sweets in his flat the first time you visited in Monaco, stuck. 

But everyone had access to the team radios. It could be heard by other engineers, other teams, fans even and those watching at home should F1TV choose to broadcast it.

Of course they did. They aired the exchange for everyone to hear and it spread like wildfire. It was all anyone on social media could talk about. 

“Say something, sweets. Tell me you’re okay.” 

“I’m okay,” you sputtered out, hands shaking as you unclenched them. It was an instinct to pull them off the steering wheel and tuck your arms to your chest, physically bracing where you could. 

“Good,” Daniel breathed out a very obvious sigh of relief. “Good.” He paused, and then with a quiet chuckle added, “What the fuck was that then?” 

You laughed in response, needing the humour at such a traumatic time. You had crashed before, but this was a bad one. You didn’t even need to step out of the vehicle to know you were lucky to not feel any immediate injuries, but there was a ringing in your ear and the adrenaline was preventing you from really understanding the damage your body had sustained. 

It wouldn’t have helped, though, to have gotten an earful, not like it was your fault anyway. It also wouldn’t have helped if you were asked again and again if you were okay. The more people asked, the more stressed you would grow. Daniel knew you needed a bit of lightheartedness at this time. 

“No brakes, Danny,” you answered through a soft laugh.

“That just sounds like an excuse to me,” he muttered, the sarcasm evident even through the crackling radio.

“Are you going to continue to question my driving abilities or are you going to send medical out here to help me?”

That whole interaction went viral. From the radio message, to the clips of Daniel accompanying you to the medical centre, to the photos of the two of you smiling in the paddock despite the bruising on your body, the concussion you were diagnosed with and the instruction from the doctor that you were not stable enough to race on Sunday.  

Which sucked, to put it plainly. But you were with Daniel. He made the situation bearable. With his arm around your shoulder, he walked you to the car at the end of the day, having waited with you the whole time. 

People speculated, of course. Questions were asked. 

Why was Daniel Ricciardo paying such close attention to you? Why did he get over the radio when he crashed? Why did it sound so flirty? Had he been in your garages the whole time and no one noticed? Was he a mentor? A friend? More?

You had put out a statement when you got to the hotel, thanking everyone for the kind words and well wishes. You shared that you would not be driving on Sunday and you also shared that you were thankful for the support of Daniel Ricciardo, your mentor, who reminded you that even the best of the best crash out sometimes. 

Mentor, you publicly called him That’s what he was, right? Or trainer. Or Manager. Or friend, really. There were a lot of words to describe his relationship to you. 

People online didn’t believe it. They thought there was more because, who looks at each other like that if they’re not fucking? 

But you weren’t. Honest to god, that line with Daniel was never crossed. You never even considered it. Always content with his companionship and his advice, you didn’t want anything physical or romantic. 

At least, you thought you didn’t. 

Daniel dragged you into his room instead of letting you go up to yours because you were under strict instructions to not be left alone for the next twelve hours should the concussion worsen. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing you a glass of water. “I know I joked over the radio, but I was worried. It wasn’t a pretty crash.”

“Are any crashes pretty?”

He sat down next to you, closer than normal considering when he rested his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers were within the distance needed to play with the strands of your hair. 

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I guess it depends on the driver. I make the crashes pretty.” 

The comedic gasp you let out as you clenched your chest had him laughing. 

“Daniel Ricciardo, are you calling me ugly?”

“Don’t twist my words!” He exclaimed, eyes squinting as his smile widened. “I said I was pretty.” 

You hummed, “You pretty much said I made the crush ugly.” 

“I didn’t say you were ugly,” Daniel playfully tugged on a strand of your hair. “You’re not- I mean, you-”

And then the humour faded. He met your eyes, his hand fell to your shoulder. He was still smiling but it was the sort of gentle smile one wears when they figure out the answer to a question that had been eating at them for a while. 

Something clicked for Daniel. At this very moment. 

He wasn’t going to let it escape him. 

“Pretty doesn’t do you justice,” Daniel told you, voice lowering. “You’re breaktaking, Y/N. On the racetrack, at home, at events, you put everyone around you to shame. And it’s not- it isn’t just your appearance, it’s you. Everything about you. Your heart, your charisma, the way your eyes light up when you smile but only if you’re talking to people you like,” he chuckled, having experienced it first hand and having seen the way you don’t look nearly as pleased when someone you dislike approaches you. 

You were speechless, though. Frozen where you sat as this admission came out of seemingly nowhere. 

And Daniel was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, he was everything anyone could ever want in a man. But you never allowed yourself to look at him the way other people would. He was your trainer, manager, mentor, friend. 

You had no words to explain the way he was staring at you now. Nor could you explain why it made you feel more alive than driving a racecar at inhumane speeds ever could. 

Daniel took another breath, eyes never leaving yours. “You are unlike anyone I have ever come across and I know, in my lifetime, I will never find someone who could ever compare to even a fraction of who you are.”

There was no way you could continue to be just friends after those words passed his lips. 

You kissed him. You had to. It wasn’t like there was anything you could say that would match what he had already said, nor could you even find the words. 

You kissed him and Daniel pulled you onto his laps, your legs moving to straddle either side of his hips. His hands roamed your body, sliding up the Prema shirt you still had on as your tongue roamed every possible inch of his mouth. 

His hand gripped your waist, rolling you over top of him so you could feel in a matter of seconds how this conversation had now taken a turn. His cock started to harden, constricted by his pants, but you still felt it underneath you each time he shifted, each time you grinded against him. 

When you reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, Daniel leaned back, both of you taking that second to catch your breath and question if you were really going to do this.

“Is this a mistake?” You whispered, your thumb gently tracing over his lips. Your working relationship was perfect. This could ruin everything. You had fears, doubts, worries. One night could lead to dozens of complications. 

But Daniel shook his head and all of those thoughts vanished.

“No,” he said, sounding so sure of himself with that one syllable. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life but you are not one of them.”

That was the only validation you needed. You kissed him again, more lust, more passion, than before as Daniel stood up, carrying you towards the bed at the back of the room. He dropped you down on the edge of it, smiling at the squeal that escaped your lips.

Daniel wanted to worship you every way he could. He was gentle with you, with your body, as he dipped his head between your thighs, making you feel a wave of euphoria that no one had ever brought you too before. 

It wasn’t until you were begging for more did Daniel realise he didn’t need to be gentle the entire night. He slid two fingers past your folds, lifting his head and hovering his body over yours, wanting to feel your desperate breaths hit his face as he rapidly thrusted his digits in and out of you, your walls clenching around him.

When he attached his lips to that spot on your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin, you saw stars. Daniel’s motions didn’t let up as you came around his fingers, loving the way your legs shook and how you dragged your hand through the hair on the back of his head.

He was cautious about doing anything else, knowing you were injured, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any more pain. 

But you needed him. You reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down, telling Daniel you wanted this, as if the way you looked up at him didn’t already make that perfectly clear. 

He was careful when he entered you, patient. The tip of his cock slid past your folds slowly and he kissed your collarbone so gently you almost didn’t feel it as you adjusted to his size, quiet moans emitting from the back of your throat. 

He had praised you before, but only ever at the race track, so there was something so familiar yet so foreign about the way he whispered against your skin. It lit a fire within you.

“You take me so well, sweets,” he fought back a groan as your walls tightened around him when you clenched your legs. “So good for me.”

It was safe to say the dynamic between you two changed after that night. 

Daniel adored you already, admired you greatly for your achievements and growth in the sport. But now he fought with himself every weekend, knowing that he couldn’t touch you how he wanted. He couldn’t show you the attention he so desperately wanted. He couldn’t kiss you when you got that podium in Belgium, despite finding a way to sneak out of the pre-race duties for a second to run to the barrier to be there for you with the rest of the Prema team. 

Whatever was going on between you, it was unlabelled and it was private. The rest of the world didn’t need to know you were sleeping with the man you looked up to, the one who helped you become a great athlete in such a short period of time. 

People continued to speculate. You were private, sure, but you weren’t overly careful. 

You were seen landing in Monaco over the summer. You were spotted hanging out with Daniel on plenty of occasions. Even though you kept your hands off of each other and refused to act like anything more than friends out in public, you were different when you returned after the break. You both were. Everyone noticed. 

Daniel was, if it was even possible, happier. And you were less stressed it seemed. While you were still fighting a constant battle of being the only female in F2, it no longer seemed as heavy because the weight of it wasn’t just on your shoulders anymore. Daniel was there too. 

It wasn’t just physical, what you had. The emotional connection you shared was undeniable. Daniel was always there for you, and you, him. During the bad days, the good ones, and everyday in between. 

When you finished the season 5th in the drivers championship, the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Daniel. He was so proud of you. He watched you go from finishing 13th last year to 5th. He played a huge part in that, but when you tried to tell him that, he only brushed it off, saying that it was all you, he was just happy to be there for the ride. 

It was his idea for you to test drive for McLaren at the end of the year, too. ‘We’ll get you in a real F1 car’ he said. And you didn’t question it when the offer was brought forward to participate in a few practice sessions. It was exhilarating and terrifying and you cried tears of joy when you stepped out of his car because this was what you dreamed of. Driving a Formula 1 car. 

Now you just needed a permanent seat and Daniel wanted that for you too. He was your biggest supporter, and you only grew closer as the days went on.

You met his family over the holidays. He spent New Years Eve in London with you. 

When the season started again, he spent more time with you and Prema. When there were no scheduled F2 races during F1 weekends, you accompanied him in the McLaren garage. 

At this point, quite a few people knew you were together, or at least they assumed it.

You didn’t post about it, you didn’t want to, you didn’t need to. Daniel didn’t need to show you off, nor did you feel obligated to let everyone know you were with him. What you had was private, it was sacred, it was only for the two of you. 

But of course whenever you had a good performance, whether it be from a practice session, qualifying or a race, he’d share your celebration picture to his Instagram story. 

“Would you ever do a shoey?” Daniel asked you one Tuesday night, zooming in on a photo of you, more specifically on the smile on your face as you clenched your second place trophy from Imola on Sunday. 

You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to hide as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest. 

“Next time you win,” Daniel suggested with a laugh. “I expect a shoey.”

“I’m not Australian.”

“You’re dating one, sweets.”

You never actually discussed what you were. The term boyfriend-girlfriend seemed so childish. Dating was, in a sense, accurate, but again, there were no labels. He had your heart, you had his. That was the only thing that mattered. 

“The world doesn’t know that,” you pointed out. 

“They kind of do,” Daniel kissed your cheek, giving your side a squeeze as he stepped aside to help you prepare dinner. 

You weren’t even sure when you fell into such a domestic lifestyle but there you were, practically moved into Daniel’s place in Monaco at this point  and he was at your side, chopping carrots for the salad while you prepared the chicken breasts. 

“A shoey would confirm it,” you glanced up at him, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t completely against the idea. 

Daniel stepped behind you, fingers playfully pinching your waist, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just reckon it would be entertaining for everyone.”

He didn’t bring it up again, not even when you got third in Spain and didn’t do it. It was your first time getting a back to back podium since you started racing and of course it was something to celebrate, but the idea of a shoey made your stomach churn. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the world to know about your commitment to Daniel. 

You walked a thin line, being with him. And while you enjoyed every possible minute spent with him, you knew the world was cruel. The second you officially went public, you’d lose respect in the motorsport industry. 

The only female F2 driver dating an F1 driver? How scandalous.

Despite the rumours, the correct rumours, you were still in a bubble with him. You could pretend you were just friends, close friends. The tabloids had nothing to go off except your polite interactions and maybe a little too friendly smiles and so what if you were there in the McLaren garage cheering him on? 

You were his biggest supporter and he was yours.

But it didn’t help that while your performance was improving, his was rapidly declining. While you had less races than his, already your stats were better. You qualified in the top 5 for the first three races. You finished second in Imola, third in Spain, already better than how you started the season last year.

Monaco was next. Daniel loved Monaco, you both did. Everyone did, it was the pinnacle of Formula 1. 

It was unfortunate that your weekends ended up so drastically different. 

Daniel qualified 14th and then finished 13th. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did his best to hide his disappointment for you, especially since you were starting on the front row, P2, for the feature race. 

And somehow, you won. 

After trailing behind Drugovich for the majority of the race, you were starting to believe you would finish behind him too. And you probably would have, had there not been a safety car almost six laps after he boxed for fresh tyres, giving you the advantage of newer tyres and less wasted time. It was a strategy your team was banking on, waiting for a safety car. It was risky, but it paid off. Overtaking was nearly impossible with Formula 1 cars, but you had a better chance in your series and somehow, by the grace of god, you did it. You pulled ahead and swiped the lead from Felipe. 

You made history that weekend. The first female F2 driver to not only podium, but to win at Monaco. You gripped that first place trophy so tight your hand turned red. 

Usually, F2 didn’t draw nearly as big of a crowd, but this weekend was different. Everyone was a fan of the series after that performance, a fan of you. You saw people in the crowd wearing Red Bull gear, Ferrari merch, McLaren hats, and they were all applauding you. 

Of course, you were blown away by the support. Hearing your national anthem play was an incredible sound. There were tears in your eyes and your entire body was trembling, yet somehow you managed to find Daniel. Right in front, with your team. 

He was so proud of you. 

Despite his shitty qualifying, despite knowing he had such a low shot at earning points at his race that was in just under an hour, he was there for you. You couldn’t tell if he was cheering the loudest, or if you were just so prone to finding him in a crowd that you couldn’t process anything or anyone else. 

You weren’t sure what came over you, but once you grabbed the champagne bottle, you found yourself taking your shoe off as well. As Felipe and Théo started spraying their bottles in celebration, you poured the bubbly liquid into the sole of your racing shoe and lifted it up to your lips, pointing directly at Daniel who couldn’t believe what he was watching. 

It was rancid, as you figured it would. It was champagne out of a sweaty shoe, you knew it wouldn’t taste good, but it was a shoey and it was for Daniel. Felipe patted your back, laughing at your reaction and muttering something about how Daniel would get a kick out of that. 

He was right, but Daniel wasn’t the only one who found it entertaining. 

Your name was once again trending following the Monaco Grand Prix. Not Checo’s, even though he won the F1 race. Your name. 

Not that you really cared that night. How could you care about what the internet was saying when the man you were with told you that he loved you for the first time? Nothing online mattered, not when Daniel took your face in his hands and told you he was madly in love with you. He was proud, he was happy, he was in love. 

And you knew you loved him too. You had known this for a while. Monaco was just the perfect time to say it. 

After going about as public as you could without physically coming out and saying you were dating the Australian driver, Monaco was the perfect place to tell him you loved him. You were on cloud 9, you were making history, you were in love. 

You continued to deny, or at least ignore, the rumours that followed, still. You both did. You were in love with each other, not the whole world. Things would get complicated if you announced you were dating. You were vying for a Formula 1 seat and you wanted it without Daniels’ influence. 

But at the following race in Baku you were asked similar questions. 

“Your shoey last week, did that have anything to do with Daniel Ricciardo being there to cheer you on? You two have gotten pretty close in the last few months, he’s one of your mentors, isn’t he?” 

You shifted your weight to one leg, wondering what the fuck kind of post-qualifying question that was. You had just completed three back to back podiums, you were on a hot streak now, starting third at this next race and the reporter only cared about what happened at the podium celebration last weekend.

“Sorry, did you have a question about this week's race?” You asked, and when he stammered over his words, you just nodded and walked away, a tight smile on your face. 

Daniel’s conversation went a bit differently. 

“Y/N’s shoey last week, we all saw it. Was that your influence?”

“Yeah I never thought she’d actually do it, it was sweet,” Daniel laughed. “It was great though, I happily pass the tradition onto her.”

“She’s really come along in Formula 2 since she started back in 2020, do you think she has what it takes to be Formula 1’s first full-time female driver?”

“Absolutely,” there wasn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation. He was happy to talk about you, to explain to the rest of the world why you were up and coming and should be taken seriously as a real contender for a Formula 1 seat. He probably would have continued on if his PR rep hadn’t pulled him away, reminding him of other duties.

The next few races were similar to your first ones. A couple more podiums, some outstanding qualifying sessions, more history being made. Your phone was blowing up weekly, everybody wanted to talk to you now and you knew Daniel had something to do with it. Him constantly sharing the faith he had in you did wonders for your reputation. 

You might have been on top of the world, but you were well aware you were alone up there.

Daniels’ performances were anything but newsworthy. He had gotten a few points in Austria and France, but nothing to be extremely proud of, especially when he compared his 9th place finish at the Red Bull Ring to your first place podium, making it your second one this season. 

He never let his disappointment for himself and McLaren stand in the way of your achievements. In fact, you didn’t often speak about the races when you were together. You were aware Daniel was having issues with the team, with Zak, with the car, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his own problems, even though you assured him time and time again you could handle it. 

Really, if Daniel had come to you with his struggles, you would have thought twice when Zak Brown approached you prior to the Hungarian Grand Prix. You probably would have slammed the door to your drivers room in his face if you knew how Daniel was being treated at McLaren. 

But Daniel held his cards close to his chest while Zak laid his all out on the table.

“If a spot opened up for you,” he said, after spending the last ten minutes talking about the rich history of the team and praising your accolades. “Would you consider it?”

It wasn’t an official contract, just the start of a conversation that could lead to one.

Of course you thought of Daniel. And Lando, having grown close with him simply through Daniel. 

“For 2024?” You asked, knowing both of them were set to continue driving through to at least the end of 2023. 

“No,” Zak shook his head. You didn’t like how harsh his tone had turned, having no remorse for what he was about to say. “Daniel’s contract would be ending early.”

You leaned back in your chair, fingers tapping the table as you tried to recall Daniel ever telling you that he was leaving McLaren. “Is he- he wants out?”

“It’s mutual,” Zak assured you. “He knows we can’t give him the car he wants and unfortunately, he’s not delivering what we need. We had high hopes with Daniel, but the working relationship isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”

It’s mutual. Those two words was all it took to convince you that Zak Brown and Daniel had already had a conversation about this, about terminating the contract a year early. 

It didn’t help that Zak brought up your test sessions in the McLaren from last year, pointing out that you had better times than Lando, even. He went on to praise what you were doing this year at Prema and said, multiple times, that you would be an asset to McLaren should you choose to go that route.

And who were you to turn that down?

A team principal of a Formula 1 team wanted to sign you. Was it unfortunate that it was Daniel’s seat? Yes, obviously this situation was less than ideal, but he wanted out. You were convinced he wanted out, that he was done with McLaren. A 45 minute conversation with Zak Brown convinced you of that.

You should have been wary when at the end of the conversation he said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, yet. You know how the public can be, let’s just keep this to ourselves for the meantime.”

“But I can talk to Dan, right?” You asked. 

Zak knew you were dating Daniel, it was a little harder to hide that from his team than it was the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why hesitated before answering, knowing that keeping a secret, something as big as this, from a partner had the potential to cause chaos.

But he shook his head, “Between us, yeah?”

And you listened to him. You wanted that Formula 1 seat so of course you followed orders. 

You desperately wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but you knew you couldn’t. And either he sensed that something was off, or he was dealing with his own problems again and wouldn’t share, you really couldn’t tell when the summer break started and things just seemed…different. 

You didn’t go to Monaco for starters, even though Daniel invited you to. But there were so many meetings with Zak and the board at McLaren that it made more sense for you to stay in London for the start of the break. 

Daniel didn’t call as often and you wanted to give him space, knowing that this break was probably needed for him. You expected he was out with friends, letting loose, getting the weight of a horrible season off his back even if just temporarily. 

The plan was to go to Monaco for the last week and a half and then travel to Belgium together. You had to delay that plan, however, when Zak called you and said it was official.

The 2023 seat was yours. 

You wanted to celebrate, with Daniel, but how could you celebrate with the person you were replacing?

It was strange that Daniel had said nothing to you about leaving the team during the summer break, especially since Zak had said time and time again they were on the same page, that Daniel was ready to leave. The only thing that crossed your mind was he was given strict instructions to not say anything to anyone either, at least until McLaren went public with the news. 

But with it being official, with you having just signed on the dotted line, you were tired of keeping it to yourself. You may not have been able to share the news with anyone else, but you had a right to have a conversation with Daniel about it.

You didn’t know how he would react. Surely he’d be happy for you, right? You were getting a seat in Formula 1, something that both of you desperately wanted to happen. And again, you were under the impression the departure from McLaren was mutual. He would be happy that someone he loved was taking his seat, right?

Right?

You had to tell yourself that the entire ride over to his place. You unlocked the front door to his building and took the elevator up to the fourth level. You didn’t think to knock, knowing he never locked it when he was home so you pushed open the door and stepped in, your suitcase trailing behind you.

You were happy to see him. He was always a breath of fresh air, despite the odd distance between you, you still loved him. You always would. He muted whatever was playing on the screen and stood up from the couch when he heard you walk in.

Usually, Daniel would greet you with a kiss.

Usually, he’d be smiling so hard his jaw would be hurting.

Usually, he was happy to see you.

You left the suitcase by the door and met him halfway, only he stopped walking when there was about a foot of space between your bodies. To you, it felt like you were still miles apart.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest. 

Your heart sank. 

You had convinced yourself, Zak had convinced you, the whole back of house team had convinced you, that Daniel was aware of this upcoming change. That the termination was mutual. You taking his seat might have been a surprise, but it was never supposed to be a blindside.

“What do you know?” you asked. 

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you.

You were both fully aware of the exact same information. Daniel was leaving. You were taking his seat. Only, you had been informed this much earlier than he had.

“What was I supposed to do?” 

“Not take the seat,” he scoffed. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you said and then added, “You don’t even like McLaren. You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

“Zak-” you started, finding it difficult to hold his stare. This wasn’t the Daniel you knew. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few steps away from you. It hurt, watching as he tried to physically distance himself from you. Like being in too close of proximity would set him off.

“I struggled with the team, yes, but I’m not ready to give up racing. You have now left me without a seat.”

It was easy for Daniel to blame you, you were standing right in front of him. You were quite literally the driver set to replace him.

But the real villain was Zak, for not having opened up this line of communication earlier. For making you believe everyone was on the same page. It was Zak’s fault for rushing to end the contract with Daniel instead of putting in the effort to work with him. He saw the shiny new toy that was you, that Daniel helped create, and he wasn’t going to let someone else take it first.

Daniel wanted to blame himself too, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that until much later. He was the one who did everything he could to help you grow in this sport. He was the one who introduced you to Zak and the rest of the McLaren team. He was the one who got you in the car for the practice sessions, his car. Foreshadowing at its finest.

“You are unbelievable,” Daniel spoke quietly, heated with anger but his words were like ice as they sunk deep into you. “After everything I’ve done to help you for you to betray me like this, I just- I don’t think-”

You knew where this was going and you wanted to put a pin in it before he could finish any of his thoughts.

“Don’t finish that sentence, Daniel,” you whispered. “Please. Please, we can figure something out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” his mind was made up. “You took my seat.”

“Wouldn’t you rather it me than someone you don’t know? Someone you don’t trust?” You tried to turn this around, have him look at the positives, if there were any. “Daniel, everyone on the grid loves you, you’ll find a new team. One that helps you grow and get to where you want. McLaren isn’t that, we both know it.”

“I think you should go,” was his only response. 

“If I hadn’t signed that contact, someone else would have,” you pointed out, grasping at straws here, painfully honest straws, but straws nonetheless. “Piastri, O’Ward…McLaren had options, Dan. Aren’t you at least happy for me that I out-qualified all of those guys?”

Daniel actually laughed, “You want me to be happy for you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Dan-”

“Leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You need to,” he was stern. He was angry. He was done. With you, with the team, with everything he used to love and cherish. He was done. 

You thought you knew Daniel. You thought you knew how this conversation would play out. You figured it would still be rocky, but god you now realised how naive you were to believe you could still make things work. 

“I love you,” you told him, because what else could you say except remind him that you were so hopelessly in love with him, that he was all you would ever want in life. 

Except, that wasn’t exactly true, was it?

You wanted a seat in Formula 1 too. You just never thought you’d have to sacrifice one dream for the other. 

Daniel’s stare was cold. He only looked away for a second to nod his head towards the door behind you, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”

You stepped forward, desperate at this point because how could he do this? How could he throw away what you had, over a seat?

Or was it you, who had ultimately thrown away what you had when you sat down with Zak Brown all those weeks ago?

It pained you to think about the strong possibility of that being the case.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you were. You were sorry about how this turned out, how he was betrayed, how this was coming to an end. You grabbed hold of your suitcase and nodded, backing up towards the door, “I really am sorry, Dan.”

He didn’t believe you. Why would he? In his eyes, Formula 1 was more important to you than he was. A career decision that benefited you, but ruined him, mattered more than your relationship. It was a bold move, a cold move, one that you didn’t think would lead to this.

Neither of you could have predicted this. On September 3rd, 2020, when Daniel first said he wanted to work with you, neither of you thought it would end like this.

Just as you grabbed the handle of the door, Daniel opened his mouth, wanting to get the final word in. And you really wished he hadn’t because those final words destroyed you. 

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I never thought you would turn out to be one of them.”

You said nothing. You walked out of that Monaco flat with your head low and your heart even lower. You couldn’t even be excited about the next season, or the remainder of this one where you had the potential to finish in the top three. 

You weren't happy, you were empty, you were defeated. And painfully so, you were also still in love.

Despite what was said, you knew it would take a while to get over Daniel. He was your rock for so long, he was always there for you and even though he could disappear without so much as a second thought, your feelings couldn’t, the memories couldn’t. It would take a long time until you felt whole again.

You didn’t know it yet, but the decision to take that McLaren seat would haunt you as you moved forward in your career. 

This was not going to be the last time you ever saw Daniel. 

part 2 haunted

[barbiiecams]

need to know

drew starkey x reader, smut!, reader is younger and also JD’s little sister, she’s also tipsy but not drunk, kinda trash but hear me outtt 😭! & absolutely no hate to odessa i just needed a plot lolz, *not proof read*

when you walked into the house party, the first person you were looking for was drew.

your brother, JD, was very close to him, so it made your life even better. if they hung out, you were hanging out too. and they were going to a party, you begged your brother to take you. even though you were an adult, some clubs (and some hosts of the parties) would only let a certain age in.

but now you had just turned 21, past the point of just being legal.

and now you just had to have your crush of basically 4 years.

when JD first got casted, you were so excited for him. you really did look up to your brother and admired him. because of the distance, he’d facetime you and tell you about all of the fun things he did, his fun scenes and etc.

it seemed genuinely fun, so when he asked you to meet the cast while they filmed season 2, there’s no way you would’ve turned that down.

he flew you out, helped you sort of “move in” to where he was staying at, and had you help him practice all of his lines. stepping onto the set was really nice, and so were all of the people.

everyone was so welcoming. the girls became your new besties and the boys saw you as their own baby sister as well.

but when it came to drew, being seen as a baby sister was something that almost… deflated you.

—

“and this is drew,” JD says as he finishes introducing you to the actors scattered all over the place.

when you locked eyes on him, you just felt your panties being soaked.

“nice to meet you,” drew smiles. blue eyes covered by his hair looking into yours and a hand sticking out. “what’s your name?”

you shook his hand, “y/n.” he nods at this before being called by one of the producers.

your shocked state might’ve been obvious, because your brother had to nudge you in the shoulder to get your attention back.

“you just turned 18, he’s 26 turning 27. don’t even think about it.” he gives you a stern look.

“think about what?” you feigned innocence. “you’re a weirdo.”

JD rolls his eyes, “yeah yeah whatever. come help me practice.”

you followed your brother over to wear his character chair was, but you couldn’t seem to get drew out of your head.

—

and now here you were. fast forward three years later and you were making the move. you just hoped he was actually interested and you wouldn’t embarrass yourself.

“don’t drink too much,” JD raised his voice over the music, “i wanna get wasted too.”

you rolled your eyes at him as he walked away and made it to the group of boys. you’re glad you actually watched him walk, seeing drew right there laughing and drinking.

as if he couldn’t get any more sexier, his hair was buzzed. usually, you weren’t attracted to the buzz cut. only some people could truly pull it off.

but it was drew, he could pull anything off. and when you saw him, you thought your legs were about to give out on you.

you had to really pull yourself out of thought. madelyn had spotted you and embraced you in a hug.

“hey girl! you’re finally of age!” she teased.

“i know,” you giggle. “where the drinks at?”

she laughs at you then brings you to a table where the rest of the girls are. they’re cheering, hugging you, and happy to finally see you and actually party, no rules pushed onto you.

“what’s gonna be your first drink?” laci asks with a smile.

“i want the hardest shit available.” you said, half joking yet half serious.

now all of you guys are really laughing. “getting bold i see.” madison jokes.

but that’s exactly what you get served. a gin and juice given to you all pretty and colorful, but when you took a sip, your face immediately scrunched up.

madelyn giggles, “drink it!”

“i didn’t know it was that strong!” you defend.

they’re laughing at your face while also trying to down their own hard liquor. you’re having such a good time, the headache you’ll have tomorrow morning is least of your worries.

you guys are all drinking and dancing, the time passing being the least of your worries. you’re on your second drink, and third shot of the night, and that’s when you realize you still haven’t said hi to any of the boys.

“i’m gonna go say hi to everyone else,” you tell the girls as you guys are settling back down from dancing. they all nod and watch you walk to the other side of the room, where austin is now chugging a beer while the rest of them yell “chug, chug, chug!”

as you’re walking over there, you seem to notice a girl with curly hair, standing next to drew.

‘interesting.’ you thought.

austin finishes and they’re all yelling for him. he turns around to your face and smiles. “baby sis!” he yells.

everyone turns to see you, and the screaming is now directed towards you. you were definitely walking out of here with a headache and hearing loss.

you gave them all individual hugs, saving the best one for last. (drew of course.)

“how are you?” chase gives you a pat on the back.

“more than good, i can see you are too.” you chuckle as you point out the spilled drink in his shirt.

he lets out a drunken huff, “yea blame your brother for that one.”

JD raises his head from a plate of wings he’s devouring. “you were in the way!”

you realize you’re still hugging drew, and he’s still got his arms around your shoulders. the thought ran through your mind that you looked like a little fangirl, but you didn’t care. hopefully when the night was over, you’d be doing more than just holding onto him.

he lets go of you, and you internally sigh. “you’ve been drinking?” he asks.

you nod, “not enough tho.”

he laughs at your response then turns to the girl you saw earlier, “odessa, this is y/n.”

odessa.

“nice to meet you!” she waves. she’s pretty, but what was she doing around drew?

you didn’t have the guts to ask, and it would be a weird look if you did, so you left it alone and just mimicked her smile and wave.

“alright i just came to say hi, ill talk to you guys in a few!” you said, wanting to get away from them in a heartbeat as long as she was still around.

you walked away from them while they all were saying ‘see you in a few.’ getting back to the table with the girls, you immediately had to ask them.

“whos that girl with drew?” you said as you sipped your almost empty glass.

“odessa?” madelyn starts, “that’s his friend. they shot a movie together and have been close ever since. they look like a couple tho, right?” she says as she downs a piece of pizza.

hearing that made you feel good yet bad at the same time. they were only friends, yet people seemed to peep at the fact that they looked like more than just friends.

and you weren’t having any of that.

not wanting to speak any more of it, you just let out a ‘hm’ which seemed to go unnoticed.

“how come?” madison asks.

“no reason,” you lie. “they just looked really close.”

—

over the next two hours, you went from drinking, dancing, eating, then repeating then same process. it started to catch up with you, but that wasn’t stopping you. surprisingly, you weren’t that much of a lightweight.

walking and sort of tripping in between people over to the counter with drinks, drew’s there by himself filling up his glass. you weren’t sure were that girl odessa was, but you most certainly didn’t care to find out.

as you slightly stumble, he holds your arm as you get closer so you wouldn’t have to struggle.

“somebody’s having fun,” he laughs.

“i am, i’m not drunk just yet tho dont worry.” you giggle. you started to think your legs were actually giving out on you to the sight of him, and his hand on your arm wasn’t helping your case.

“take it easy,” he says, “JD isn’t the most sober either.”

he motioned his head over to where he was. you turned your head to see your brother doing a line of shots with everyone surrounding him, cheering and yelling some more.

“of course,” you mutter.

drew chuckles, “i got you, don’t worry.”

your stomach was doing flips at this point. his words affected you, even if they weren’t meant to be flirtatious. that’s how bad this attraction was.

it’s silent between the two of you for a second, until you decide it’s time to speak up. ‘now or never’ you thought.

“can i ask you something?” you turned back to him. he replies with a quick ‘sure’ as he put his phone down.

“are you and odessa together or something?” you blurted. maybe you should’ve reworded the statement, but the drinks had gotten your boldness up.

he seemed taken aback, “no, not at all. why?”

you didn’t have a lie for this one, “just wondering.”

he wasn’t moving on from that quickly at all. “i can tell that’s not full truth.”

that little thought came back into your head again. ‘now or never.’

“it’s just… i feel like i want you to see me more than just as a little sis.” you said. when you said this, you didn’t feel bad either. you’ve been wanting him for a good 3 years now, and you’d be damned if you let someone else get him before you did.

he’s not speaking for a good moment which makes you worried, then he finally says something.

“you’re gorgeous y/n, you know that?” he starts. you nod, but you were kind of freaking out at the same time, not really knowing where he would take it from here.

“but i’d think it be wrong if i saw you as anything else other than a little sister. you’re a lot younger, and literally the little sister of a close friend. i just don’t think it would work.” he explains.

fuck no. you were not giving up that easily.

you started to stand a little closer to him. “i’m 21! that’s enough past 18 if i can legally drink. and who cares about JD?”

“i know, i know. but JD most definitely wouldn’t like seeing his sister with his best friend.” drew tries to reason.

“i don’t care,” you drag out the word. “i’ve been crushing on you since i met you. i waited so long to finally tell you.”

you can see the light red start to form at his cheeks and the smirk come to his lips, “i’m flattered, really. but i’d rather not get my ass beat by your big brother.”

“please?” now you were really getting close by wrapping your arms around his neck. “it can be our little secret. no one has to find out. but i just need to know.”

drew’s starting to cave. he rests his hands on the sides of your hip. “need to know what?”

the smirk is starting to become more evident, and his voice starts to drop.

“how you feel, how you taste. i want you so bad.”

“you’re gonna get me in trouble, y’know.”

you don’t notice up until now how close your faces are. he lets out a sigh that sounds like he’s not going to let is guard down, but little do you know he’s been wanting to take you there just as long as you’ve wanted it.

“i’d be lying if i said i didn’t want to bend you over the minute we shook hands.” he said seductively.

“then do it now.” you tell him.

something you’ve been waiting on forever, he gives you a short kiss on the lips. he pulls back quick and make sure no one’s watching, but everyone is too busy drinking and dancing currently.

he rubs his hands up and down on your sides. “let’s go upstairs.”

it’s like a weight lifted off your shoulders. all these years of plotting finally paid off. you were so ready to give him whatever he wanted and have him take you however he pleased.

he held your hand as the two of you walked upstairs, getting to the most closest and available room, he opened the door for you and walked in behind you, locking the door.

he wasted no time either. as soon as the two of you were closed off, he started kissing you deep. forcing his tongue into your mouth, teeth clashing, and his hands working to get your pants off.

you definitely weren’t trying to waste a moment either. your hands immediately went under his shirt to feel his abs, and to take it off.

his hands worked fast. he got your pants off after pushing you down to the bed, and now your top was gone as he started to feel you through your bra. you were still trying to get his belt off.

he’s groaning into your mouth and it’s the hottest thing you could possible experience. “shit, i need to taste you. let me taste it baby.”

as he’s working to get your bra off, you finally managed taking off his belt and unzipping his jeans. he took down his own pants, then went straight to dipping his head down there and took of your panties, quite literally discarding them. he pushes your legs open and gets to work.

he opened your folds with his hands then put his tongue on you, which had you moaning in seconds.

drew knew exactly what to do with his tongue. you were already so worked up on him, and now he was eating you out like it was the first meal he’s ever had.

he brought a thumb up to your clit. “like fuckin candy, mama. so sweet.”

“drew!” you practically screamed out.

he moans against your clit, which really does it for you. “be as loud as you want, baby, nobody can hear us.”

and that’s exactly what you do. you don’t hold back your moans for a second.

he puts a finger in you and starts moving it quick, curling it while still using his tongue. he was a fuckin pro.

the release was coming quick, but he stops. he hears the sound of disappointment and sees it on your face.

he pulls down his boxers, “it’s okay. gonna make you cum around me as many times as this pussy can.”

that’s all he has to say for you to practically push yourself even closer to him.

and he was real big. you were almost afraid he wouldn’t fit. but right now, you had to have him in every way. you’ve craved him for too long and you didn’t care if it hurt.

he lines up with your entrance and rubs the tip along it. “you ready?”

“give it to me.” you say. he takes this as his cue to push his length inside you.

both of you let out a sigh when he goes in. he makes sure you feel every inch of him, moving in slowly then bottoming out completely.

“you feel too good, princess.” he groans. all you can do is whimper at how full you felt with him inside.

after a few moments of letting the feeling sink in, he starts moving. your breathing starts to heavy, and it feels like you’re on cloud nine.

“mhm, that’s right. feel me baby.” he says as the pace speeds up. he throws his head back and his hands squeeze your hips, holding you down and making sure you take it all.

he then plants a leg on the bed, fixing his position so he can hit it even deeper. you can’t even form words at this point. it’s just all moans and “ah ah ah” sounds.

you can feel him all the way in your guts. he’s in there so deep, going completely ham on your tight hole. it was so much that you reached your arms out to try and block his hips a bit.

drew wasn’t taking that. “uh uh baby. you wanted this right? you wanted to know. you wanted to be a big girl and take it, so that’s what you’re gonna do.”

“it’s so deep!” you’re able to blabber out. he puts his leg down and leans back on his knees, bringing you to sit up with him. now his hands are supporting your waist as your hands find his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“i know it is baby i feel it,” he says against your mouth. “i knew you’d be a good girl for me tho, shit. taking this cock like a damn pro.”

as he thrusts up into you, he starts grinding your waist into him. this is a whole new feeling that has you really screaming out now.

“you like that, pretty?” he says into your ear.

“so much!” you mewl. he chuckles at the state your in. fucked out and filled with his cock.

“yea i know you do baby.” he says. “you just needed a real man to come and work you huh?”

he lets out a breath before continuing, “yea, you like your men with some experience. don’t you baby?”

you just let out more moans at his words, he knew what he was doing and he was proud.

you felt the orgasm approaching, and he could tell too. “you gonna cum?”

“yes!” you yelp.

“go ahead sweet girl. let me feel this pussy gush around me.”

when he gave you the ok, you let go. you were cumming and crying at the same time, everyone downstairs probably wondering where the two of you went. but did either of you care?

absolutely not!

“that’s it, good job baby. i knew you’d be a good girl f’me.” he says, thrusts slowing down to soak in all of your orgasm.

he laid you back down to get a few more thrusts in. now he’s chasing his own release.

“i’m gonna cum, sweetheart. you want it on your stomach?”

“anywhere,” you respond.

he looked shocked. “oh yea? what if i knock you up? then what are we gonna do?”

“i’m on the pill! promise.” you tell him.

his eyes squeeze shut. he was real close. “okay baby, here it comes.”

you feel the hot liquid squirt inside you and fill you up. you could almost cry again from how good it felt.

when he was done, he stayed inside for a little just to calm down. after that, he pulled out and laid down next to you.

“i’m glad you convinced me, best sex i’ve had in a while.” he’s still catching his breath but smiling.

you giggle, “it’s about time i got my hands on you.”

he laughs as well, holding you close and letting both of your bodies relax. “guess you’re all mine now.”

him saying that made your heart burst. it’s the only words you’ve been wanting to hear for so long. “i guess you’re all mine too.”

he smiles, but then you suddenly remember you’re at a party. “we better go back down before they start a watch party for us.” you said while getting up, trying to find where he even threw your underwear.

“right. we’re getting you a plan b tomorrow too.” he says, and you definitely have to agree.

but finally, that was your man.

[writingwithfolklore]

Making the Most out of your First Draft

As someone who used to write every first draft without planning and then use that to figure out characters and outlines, I have a lot of experience in first drafts that are incredibly helpful to forming an actual story, and drafts that don’t add much.

              So here’s how to make the most out of your first draft:

1. Write what doesn’t make sense

One of the most helpful first drafts I ever wrote abandoned plotlines and started new ones as though they had existed all along like several times. It was also the longest draft I had ever written because I had packed so many ideas into it. The reason why this is helpful is because you can test out what a plot point will look like in the middle or even end of your story without having to go back to the same beginning again and again.

It doesn’t need to make sense, just try things out. Disappear characters who don’t work, add a best friend near the end that acts like they’ve been there the entire time, whatever idea you’re interested in you can try out without worrying too much about what makes sense or what you’d need in place to set it up. It's like literally stream of consciousness writing, and you're going to learn so much more about your world, plot, and characters than trying to make it make sense.

2. Write poorly

I spent a lot of that first draft having characters monologue to themselves or each other about their interests and problems and lives which allowed me to explore their backstories and voice even if that’s not something I would do in a final draft. I had the wackiest plot points to see how my characters would react, what would happen to the plot, and if I didn’t like it I would keep going like nothing had happened, I did a lot of yadda-yaddaing over worldbuilding and setting the scenes and making up things on the spot to see if they’d stick, skipping sometimes to the interesting stuff, or adding in a random scene just for fun.

It doesn’t have to be good. Even a little bit. You’re learning about your world and your characters and the story you want to tell, but you aren’t writing it yet. Allow it to be the worst thing you’ve ever written.

3. Make notes on what you like

As you go through and throw spaghetti at the wall (figuratively speaking), make notes on the things that stick. If you write a line of dialogue you really like, or a piece of backstory or even a vibe, make sure to make a note of it somewhere. This will help you narrow down your ideas to what you want to keep when you start writing your story. And if you’re like me and you want to outline or plan your subsequent drafts, these notes will be invaluable to start forming your planning.

Anything else I missed?

[gilverrwrites]

Skinny Dipping

Pairing: Dean WInchester/F!Reader

Authors note: This has the been the hardest, and biggest of my re-mastered fics so far. I’m pretty sure the original was an amalgamation of imagines from supernaturalimagine and dirtysupernaturalimagines but I couldn’t even guess at which imagines exactly. This is like, my 4th public/semi-public fic in like 3 months, I’m starting to feel like this is a kink I didn’t know I had.  Also, Metallica have not cancelled anything, don’t worry. (and I don’t know jack about cars, people that do, please don’t come for me, I really did try, k, thanks, bye.) 💖

Plot: Reader is a mechanic who Dean's been checking in on, and checking out for a while now. Dean has the perfect excuse to see her after baby breaks down nearby.

Rating: M/18+

Words: 2936

Content: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, reckless drunken/tipsy behaviour, being submerged underwater, skinny dipping, teasing, brief retraining, size-difference, dry-humping, (or I guess wet-humping), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, water sex, mild angst.

Please remember: If you never try, you’ll never know.

You switch off the radio, listening to the purr of your car's ignition as you pull up behind a familiar black impala. It was a beauty, but it was nothing compared to your ‘70 boss. You watched as its owner climbed out of the front seat and headed towards you.

Its owner being your old friend Dean Winchester. He and his brother had saved you from a coven of witches a few years back, and ever since he’s been popping back into your life every few months. ‘Working on a case nearby’, ‘just passing through’, ‘baby needs a new compressor’. Every visit he laid the flirting on thicker. You weren’t sure if he was just joking around with you, or if he was serious, or if he saw you as a challenge. Either way you’d been making him work for it. Today it just so happened that his car had broken down a few miles out from your shop, the perfect excuse to see you on a Friday night.

You were pulled from your train of thought by a light tapping on your window. You snapped your head to the side to see Dean hovering over your door. His familiar smile set your heart racing. Okay, so maybe his seduction tactics were working, he was hot, who could blame you?

“Is there a problem, officer?” You joked, rolling down your window.

Dean rested an arm on the hood and leaned in. “No, no, just a routine check.” You knew he impersonated officers and agents all the time, but you hadn’t seen it firsthand. It was impressive how easily he slid into character.

“I am, however, gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle for a full strip search.”

Act ruined.

“At least buy me drink first.” You quipped.

“If you can help me, I’ll buy you a whole dinner.” He winked and opened the car door from the outside. You raised your brows at him but climbed out anyway before making a b-line for the impala’s engine.

“What’s wrong?” You directed your question to the car in the same tone you would address a small child or animal, gently rubbing a hand across its roof as you walked beside it. "Has someone been neglecting you?”

“Hey!” Dean barked, clearly offended. “I take better care of this baby than I do myself.”

At that you looked back over at him. He’d forgone his usual flannel today, leaving him in a pair of jeans that hugged him in all the right places and a grey t-shirt that clung tight and accentuated his broad chest. By the time your eyes reached his face, Dean was sporting a wicked grin, clearly ecstatic to have caught you checking him out. You avoid his smug gaze by popping the hood of his car to take a look at the engine.

“You weren’t kidding.” You whistled; Dean really was taking care of the thing.  The motor was almost gleaming. You felt his warm hand suddenly press against your lower back and turn to look up at him. The expression on his face could only be described as that of a proud father.

“Yeah.” He agreed before pointing to the main battery with his free hand: “This is the problem. It’s busted.”

“Ah, you’re gonna need a new one. I’m surprised you don’t keep a spare.” 

“Yeah.” To his credit, he looked pretty sheepish. “I normally do, but guess I forgot when the last one went out.”

“I don’t have one.” You said, pursing your lips to express your sympathies.

Dean didn’t respond, biting his lip while he waited for you to continue.

“But I could give you a jump start if you gotta head out soon.” You bring the hood back down and start heading to the boot of your car.

“No good,” Dean calls after you. “I’m not in a rush, but I don’t have enough gas to get me where I’m going.”

“Well… I’ve got a guy. He’s a few towns over. He’s closed at this time.” You inform as you open your boot and pull out your tow rope, flashing it to Dean with a smile. I can tow you into town for tonight, then drive you there and back in the morning.”

“I knew I could count on you!”

An hour later, you’d slowly but surely managed to drag Dean and his baby back into town, argued with him about him staying at a motel or on your couch (you’d won), and successfully swindled him into buying you that dinner he’d promised. Dinner being take-put pizza and over-priced ice-cream. Now, the two of you were sitting in your backyard, sharing the aforementioned ice-cream and an old bottle of Jack Daniels you’d pulled from the back of your cupboards. 

“So,” Dean began, his speech slurred by the spoon hanging from his mouth. How’s the garage doin’?”

You take a sip of the JD and proceed to suck on your teeth as you consider how to respond.

“Honestly, bad. Ever since that shitty corporate place set up shop down the road, we’ve been going downhill.” You punctuate your statement with another sip from the bottle before offering it to Dean. “I’m keeping it up and running by tooth and claw, but truthfully, it’s probably only got a few months left in it.” 

He gives you a sombre smile as he exchanges the tub of ice cream for the bottle. It's a touchy subject, but you can’t help admiring the way his neck moves as he tilts his head back to drink. You avert your eyes by scooping up the last bit of cold, sugary goodness and placing the empty container on the grass beside you.

“That sucks.” He places a hand on your shoulder, attempting to offer comfort. “That really sucks. Do you have a back-up plan?”

You grab the bottle back from Dean and take another sip before answering.

“I dunno. Sometimes I think about doing what you do. Kinda.” You begin. You don’t miss the way his entire body stiffens before you clarify. “Without the monsters. Just hit the road, get drunk at every bar in the country, visit Disney, become Metallica groupie, an-”

“You know they cancelled that tour, right?” Dean butts in.

“WHAT?” You shake his hand off and stare up at him in disbelief.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. The smile on his face is anything but sympathetic.

“Bastards.” You cross your arms and pout dramatically. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the laugh that escapes Dean's lips is magical, and you can’t help but join in. When he returns his hand to your shoulder, this time reaching for the furthest from him, thus wrapping himself around you, your skin tingles, and you let yourself fall into him.

As the two of you slowly seize your giggling, Dean checks his watch. He quirks an evocative brow at you when he speaks, “It’s getting late. Maybe we should head inside?”

You mull it over, dramatically swaying your head from side to side before you voice your decision. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

You stand up, offering your hand to Dean, who eyes you sceptically. Nevertheless, he takes the bait, placing his hand in yours and allowing you to lead him toward the footpath just outside your garden.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks, and you can sense the caution in his voice. You assume it’s the hunter in him being paranoid, and you know for a fact that his free hand is hovering over the knife he keeps tucked into the back of his jeans at all times.

“I’m taking you here,” you answer as you pull him through the last set of trees and onto the shore of the local lake. You scan the surrounding area as you kick off your shoes. Satisfied that nobody is nearby, you start pulling off your trousers.

As you bend down to pull your socks off, you look up at Dean. He’s staring back at you intensely, mouth open, cheeks pink.

When you start pulling your top over your head you feel his fingers lightly brush against your hips. He’d stepped closer, and you’re tempted to touch him back or to reach up and kiss him. But you don’t. Instead, you throw your top over his head and sprint for the water.

“RACE YOU!” You challenge, discarding your bra and panties before you reach the water and forward dive in. Dean follows you moments later with a cannonball that splashes your face just as you’re resurfacing from your own dive.

“Fuck! That’s colder than I expected.” You yell to him.

“I’ll warm you up.” Dean replies as he swims close to you. You let his hands return to your hips, not expecting it when he dunks you back under the water.

You cough and splurge as he brings you back up. You flail your arms around until you find the top of his head, and you cling to him for dear life, but Deans is stronger, taller, and he’s found solid ground to plant his feet onto below the water. He escapes your grip and throws you under again.

“STOP. MERCY!” You yell when you come back up. This time, you use your legs for safety, wrapping them around his hips. You'd be safe if you could just get a grip on his arms. You’d been too distracted to notice his erection until you feel it poking at you. You’re about to make a comment about it, but Dean speaks first.

“You’re cute when you’re scared.” He laughs, you silence him with a swift but playful punch to the chest. In defence he grabs at your wrists, able to trap both in just one of his hands. His other hand slides up your arms, over your shoulder, your neck, until he reaches your cheek. He leisurely rubs his thumb against your wet skin.

You stay like that for a while, watching each other, before you finally ask, “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Without any further hesitation Dean lunges forward, forcing his lips against yours. His kiss is hard and animalistic; he skips straight past the pecking and teasing to roaming your mouth with his tongue. His fingers leave your cheek and weave into your hair, holding you against him, his stubble scratches against your skin.

In a play for dominance, you dart your own tongue out, grazing his chapped lips, but he denies you. Instead, he pulls away from your lips, refocusing his attention on nipping and kissing at your jaw, neck, and collarbone.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this.” He utters onto your skin.

“What, this exact scenario?” You joke.

“Not exactly.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and the gust of air against your skin makes you tremble.

“Then what?” You challenge. Your inability to touch him is frustrating you. In an attempt to stimulate him back, you grip your legs around him tighter, using him as leverage to grind against him. The tip of his cock doesn’t quite reach your clit, but its added pressure helps it spread your lips. “Tell me.”

He drops his hand from your head, and cups it under your asscheek. Firmly guiding you up and down, assisting you in rutting against his cock. Shakey breaths become grunts, and after a few seconds he releases your wrists so that he can grip you with both hands. Free to move, you shimmy down his body until you can feel his dick brush against your clit with each grind.

“Come on, tell me.” You plead, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, your grip tightening every time he hits your sweet spot. You know he's not shy, that he’s just getting lost in the feeling, and it pains you to say it, but eventually, you taunt. “I’m not gonna fuck you if you don’t tell me.”

He whimpers at your empty threat but finally confesses. “Just you. Your body, under me. Every night, I think about how you’d look, how you’d feel squirming, moaning my name.”

“Fuck. That’s hot.” You reply and he smiles as you plant your lips against his once again.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks, speech slurred as he tries to speak between kisses.

“Yes.” You respond instantly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Please fuck me, Dean.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His grip on your ass is like a vice as he lifts you up slightly. You both work in sync to position yourselves just right until he lowers you onto his cock, slowly pressing into you. There’s some resistance as he stretches your walls, but the sound of his whispered praises helps you relax until he finally bottoms out, stretching you in all the right places.

“Fuck, that feels so good. You took me so well.” He affirms, and even though he’s already balls deep, you can’t help the heat that spreads across your face.

He begins lifting you again before you can respond, sliding you up and down his cock in slow, steady movements. You grip tight to his shoulders and hips with your hands and knees, using them as leverage points to help move your body up and down. Each thrush is slow and shallow, but Dean seems to be loving it; his head rolls back, and he releases breathy moans with every rock.

“Shit.” You shout, holding tighter still when Dean unexpectedly shifts below you, repositioning his legs to a sturdier position. You watch through hazy eyes as he reaches up and grips your hand, before guiding it down the tight space between your bodies. You get the message quickly, and begin rubbing your clit in lazy circles, keeping in time with the pace of Dean's cock.

The added stimulation had your toes curling in no time. When your pussy starts clenching around Dean’s cock, you see the sudden concentration in his face. His brow furrows, and he bites his lip as he focuses on riding you through your orgasm. The sight was the final push you need to take you over the edge.

“Fuck, Dean. Fuck fuck fuck, that feels good.” You cry out as you hit your climax.

“Keep saying my name, baby.” Dean begs as he continues rolling your hips together. You feel his body shake as he starts to struggle with your combined weights as he chases his own release.

You try to assist, desperately pumping yourself up and down despite the newfound sensitivity as you chant his name.

“Fuck, yes baby.” You feel the twitch of his cock inside you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he hits his orgasm, rutting his cock as deep as he can as he cums inside you. “oohhh yeah.”

You stay in position for a long time following, holding on tight to each other, listening to each other's breathing as you come back down, until Dean guides your body backwards so that you’re face to face again. “How you feelin’?”

“Good.” You reply with a smile.

“Good.” He grins at you mischievously before plunging backwards into the water, taking you with him.

“So, was that everything you imagined it to be?”

He purses his lips in thought before teasingly responding. “Eh, it wasn’t bad.”

You both laugh as you lay your head down on Dean's bare chest; his arms envelop your body as you both blankly look up at the stars. You play with the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him when you emerged from the water and re-dressed.

“You should do it.” Dean says when you're both fully settled down.

“Do what?” You query, popping your head up to look at him, unsure what he’s talking about.

“Hit the road.” He clarifies, revisiting your earlier conversation. “I mean, life on the road isn’t easy or sustainable, trust me, I know.”

“But…” You prompt, knowing fully that he wasn’t going to stop there.

“But it could be fun for a while. If it’s what you wanna do. Hell, I’d totally be a roadie if… you know.”

“I know,” You reply. You’re smiling at him, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The reminder of your failing business stung, but you didn’t want it to spoil your night. You lean forward, caressing his cheek; his stubble feels rough against your fingers. You gently pull his face forward and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I might. I probably will. If it comes to it.”

“I can’t come with you.” He says when you lean away. You hadn’t expected him to want to come with you. Hoped, maybe? But you knew it wasn’t a possibility.

“I know.” You repeat.

He carefully reaches up to run his hand across your damp hair as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is longer, softer than any you’d shared all night. When you’re done, he lets his head fall back against the ground, and you perch yourself against his chest once more. 

“You’ll still call me though, right?”

“Always.” He replies instantly. “You’re my best girl. Well, second-best girl.”

“The car?” You ask deadpan. Of course, the car is his number one.

“Who else?” He replies shamelessly.

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, entwined in each other’s arms, spent and damp under the stars, until eventually, you feel your lids growing heavy. You fight it for a while, willing yourself to remain awake, until eventually your tiredness wins out. You cuddle closer into the warmth of Dean's chest as you fall asleep.