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miabebe · 2 days ago

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Camp Seventeen: Chapter 3

Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13

Word count - 16K

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut, fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up!

Previous chapter

Chapter summary - As the days in camp seventeen unfold the many burdens you had tucked away in your heart, you dive into the sorrows you had presumably left behind. Thankfully (or not) a musical moment and a menacing monster serve as unforeseen distractions.

A/n - I do have a taglist so comment on this post to be added! As usual, the member and warnings will be added in a weeks time to keep suspense :) This chapter is a bit heavy, the plot is thickening so please do take your time with it - I promise things will make sense eventually!

Special thanks to @monamipencil! Your comments made my day Lola <3

“Chief.” Soonyoung took a worried step forward, hand slipping out from yours. “Is everything okay?”

“If you’re here it's either not serious enough or it's too serious.” Minghao frowned at Seungcheol, crossing his arms. “My guess is the former.”

“The camp is under attack.” Seungcheol sighed, running his hands through his hair like he was embarrassed. “Of….”

“Of what?”

“O-of geese.”

“Geese??” Soonyoung looked at him stupidly. “Like plural of goose, geese?”

“What other kind of geese do you know, you dumbass.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes.

“I don't know. The kind of geese I know don’t attack human establishments??”

“It’s obviously some elaborate prank by the children of Nemesis, considering it's their companion.” Muttering, Seungcheol stuffed his hand in his pockets. “Those winged brats are just wreaking havoc everywhere - they’ve broken all of the farm's tools, they’ve made a mess of the dining hall, they’ve shat all over the houses-” Both boys groaned. “-it's a catastrophe.”

“Are we sure it’s not Jeonghan?” Soonyoung narrowed his eyes. “We all know how much he enjoys stuff like this….”

“Jeonghan also loves to watch the consequences of his very well planned antics.” Seungcheol scoffed. “And he’s not at camp - he said he was going to the city for….. something, I don’t know but no, it’s not him.”

“If it's not him then how did these birds enter camp at night?” Minghao raised his eyebrows confused. “They shouldn’t have been able to pass Wonwoo’s nighttime defenses.”

“He says they might have sneaked in during the shift handover. Apparently Hansol and the hounds were the only ones patrolling when he was settling up because Jihoon was busy elsewhere.” Seungcheol looked straight at you, almost accusatorily.

What the hell, how was this your fault?

“There’s no need to look at her like that.” Minghao took a step forward, half covering you behind his frame. “You should talk to Jihoon about being more responsible with his time.”

“That’s not the point now.” Watching both men glaring at each other, Soonyoung tried to ease the tension. “We should be discussing how we can get rid of those menaces.”

“We've been trying.” Seungcheol groaned. “But neither Jun nor Hansol are able to communicate with them for some reason. It seems like they are some weird mix of domestic and wild.”

“That's strange.” Minghao frowned, lost in thought.

“Something does seem off.” Soonyoung agreed. “Not only have they breached Wonwoo's protection but they're also some sort of unheard half breeds? Two anomalies cannot be a coincidence.”

“Moreover, it's not like the children of Nemesis to prank.” Minghao frowned, staring at the ground. “Pettiness isn't their nature.”

“What other reason could they have to do this?” Seungcheol crossed his arms, muscles tense. “Revenge?”

“Maybe, or it might not even be them.” Sooonyoung looked lost in thought. “Seungkwan and I will speak around with our contacts. I’m sure we can find out something.”

Seungcheol nodded, “In the meantime we need to clear them from camp premises before they cause more destruction.”

“Then why aren't you at camp doing that chief?” Minghao narrowed his eyes at the leader. “Why is it that you're here, like there's more important things to worry about?”

You didn’t have to look to tell that Minghao was glancing at you over his shoulder.

Soonyoung didn't seem to think his presence was suspicious. “He's the Son of Zeus, Hao. Geese and him don't really go well together.”

You vaguely recalled Jihoon telling you something in the Iliad about Zeus, geese and the Helen of Troy.

“Is that it?” Minghao raised his eyebrow amused. “Big ol’ chief afraid of some feathered friends?”

“I’m here for Soonyoung.” Seungcheol gritted between his teeth. “And I asked for the message of the attack to be passed to him alone.”

Your eyes followed Soonyoung’s which focused on the group huddled in the corner - a bunch of the most beautiful people you had ever seen, snickering away.

“Fucking Aphrodite’s children.” He muttered knowing all three of you were purposely misled here in the interest of creating a scene.“How can I help, chief?”

“We were wondering if your ability to induce intoxication can calm them down so they can be captured?” He looked unsure. “Hansol and Jihoon were ready to shoot down the birds but if this really is a prank, we don’t want to harm their animals and seek trouble with the other camps.”

“Even though this might be their fault?”

“We have enough on our plate this season, Soonyoung.” It was very apparent that Seungcheol was trying his best not to meet your eye. “The last thing we need is more camps to be against us.”

Soonyoung nodded like he understood. “We should leave then but Chan is too drunk to drive-”

“I got here on Wonwoo’s bike.” Seungcheol waved his hand, dismissing the younger one’s concern. “You and I can head back first and the rest of the team…...Minghao, are you sober?”

The man in question nodded.

“Good, gather everyone immediately and make sure they reach camp safely, especially….”

Seungcheol glanced at you, his expression a lot softer but the anger you felt for him had not changed.

“I’m not leaving yet.” You spoke up for the first time, earning the leader’s confused look. “I don't want to.”

“Are you drunk?”

“And what if I am?”

“It’s a Thursday night Y/n, we have training tomorrow morning-”

“Ugh I don’t care.” You grabbed a canned cocktail from the nearby table and popped it open, ignoring Soonyoung’s widened eyes. “Your camp, your rules, whatever the hell you’ve got going on, I don’t care for it Cheol- oh sorry, Seungcheol.” You corrected yourself. “I will leave this party whenever I feel like I want to leave this party.”

“Stop being a child.” Seungcheol was clearly holding back his anger. “There’s enough going on back at camp now for you to-”

“Exactly, go deal with it chief. I’m sure you’ll all fare better without the “weak link” around.”

“Y/n I…” He sighed, watching you drink in big gulps. “First of all, you shouldn’t be drinking that-”

“Can someone please explain to this man that I’m not going to listen to him.”

“Cheol.” Minghao looked pointedly at his leader who was on the verge of snapping. “I’ll bring everyone back to camp safely…. everyone.” He emphasized again. “You and Kwon should get going now.”

“Yeah.” Soonyoung nodded before turning to you and grabbing the bottom ends of Minghao’s jacket, aligning them as his voice fell to a whisper. “Y/n, that’s a sex potion too.”

Eyes popping out, you nearly spat out your drink. “I thought it was just the beer??” He nodded. “Yeah, so did everyone, hence the improvisation.” He pulled the zip up, adjusting the jacket on your shoulders. “Take care sweetie.”

You nodded, eyes briefly meeting Seungcheol over Soonyoung’s shoulder. He looked…..indifferent as he stared back.

“Come on Kwon.” He muttered, turning away as the Soonyoung dropped a kiss on your forehead before taking a step back and jogging away to catch up with his leader. You only let out a breath as their figures disappeared in the rain that only got heavier.

Before you knew it, a familiar feeling began licking up your spine, warmth spreading all over your being just like it had earlier. As you slowly turned to Minghao, embarrassed to meet his eye, he straight up shook his head, looking amused.

“Nah uh. Ignorance I can understand but stupidity?” He scoffed. “That's your problem.”

“Minghao-”

“Fight it Y/n.” He grabbed a macaroon, stuffing it in his mouth as he began to walk away from you. “Fight it.”

Unlike Seungcheol’s house, the room you woke up in did not have sunlight streaming in.

Stretching on the large king size bed, you glanced at the now empty space beside you - the man who had given you company last night was no longer there and rightfully so considering it was way past training hours.

Ignoring the pain in your head, you swung your feet off the mattress, glancing out the window. The view is much nicer than Seungcheol’s house - there all you could see were endless trees and hills but here you could see much more of the camp, particularly the common cabin, where everyone was slowly walking towards after hitting the showers. Slightly annoyed and very bothered that yesterday’s events were about to repeat, you sighed, heading down the stairs, making your way to the dining hall. Unlike yesterday though, no one spared a glance at you as you walked in.

You could tell they were all tired - you saw much of the aftermath of the geese ambush as you returned to camp late last night. Considering everything looked normal today, you figured the boys must have spent all night cleaning up before reporting to train in the wee hours of the morning.

“Y/n,” Mingyu’s voice called out to you from behind as you turned to him. “You left this in my workshop last night….”

As you glanced at the jacket in his outstretched hand, the eyes of the other boys flickered between the two of you.

“That's mine.’ Minghao walked up, swooping his garment in his hands as the attention of the room shifted to him. You gulped as he walked away from the hall wordlessly.

You figured you should say something considering the silence was only getting worse, maybe apologise for missing training yet again but before you could say it, Seungcheol got up and walked right past you without saying a word.

Lips parted, you watched him leave once more, refusing to say anything, refusing to listen to you, simply being stubborn like he always was.

Fine, if he was going to be a bitch, so were you. Following his suit, you walked out of the hall in the opposite direction, leaving everyone inside baffled.

The heat of the water just wasn’t comforting.

You knew it was hot, there was steam all around, the tiles of the shower were covered in condensation and designs you had mindlessly traced with your finger. But rather than scalding your skin off, the boiling hot water just felt like a tickle. Annoyed, you turned off the pouring water and grabbed the towel, wrapping it around your body, tucking it in front of your chest. As you ran your hand through your wet hair, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Water was dripping from the wet strands, running down the many darkening, reddish purple marks on your neck and shoulder. You knew they would get darker as days passed but you didn’t expect them to look so bruised up already. Running your finger across them you sighed - last night was a horrible mistake. Sure you were under the influence of some messed up concoction but sleeping with more than one member of the camp was ridiculous to say the least.

What was more burdensome was the idea that maybe there was more than the concoction involved…. Soonyoung had broken up with his girlfriend because of you but neither he nor you were sure about what exactly he felt for you and Minghao? You had noticed he was generally protective of you since you had joined camp and thought it was just because he was nice, but the way he pulled you away from Soonyoung every time the two of you were a little more intimate? That did not seem very ‘general’.

Shutting your eyes, you tried to push the details of last night out of your mind. Thank god you listened to your trainer when he told you to fight it. Otherwise when you asked Mingyu if you could crash at his place in order to avoid Seungcheol and found yourself sharing his king size bed, maybe you would have allowed yourself to make another mistake. You couldn't make another one so soon.

Tightening the grip of your towel, you turned towards the changing rooms, slightly startled by the figure that just walked in.

Wonwoo - also in his towel, hanging low at his waist, moving as silent as a shadow as he walked towards the showers. You should have felt exposed, more conscious, given you were barely dressed, and covered in innumerable hickies but you didn't feel a thing. Because Wonwoo hadn't spared you a glance. He walked past you like he couldn't care less, like you weren't there.

“What is your problem?”

After days of watching this man behave so unnecessarily indifferent to you, you finally spoke up, mind already disturbed by a hundred and one things.

“Why do you always behave like I don't exist?” You crossed your arms, staring him down. “If you're an introvert, I can understand, Hansol doesn't interact with me much either but at least he doesn't behave like I'm invisible, like he can see right through me-”

“Because I can.” His voice left him deep and cold as he turned to you. “Because I can see right through you.”

You scoffed. “What-”

“Because regardless of what you pretend to be in front of others, I can see the real you. I know things about you that you won't even admit to yourself.”

“What-” You emphasised again. “-can you possibly know?.”

“What can I know?” He raised an eyebrow. “I know you're a loner Y/n. You've been one your whole life. Your biological parents never cared enough about you, you don't have any siblings, you've never bothered to make friends, you've always been alone.” He took a step forward. “Even though it was circumstances that drove you to loneliness, you always told yourself that it was your choice, that you wanted to be alone because it’s easier that way. It’s easier to tell yourself that you chose to distance yourself from everyone rather than admit that you were rejected. You knew you would never be accepted. You knew no matter where you were and what you did, you would never fit in. You knew you were a freak.”

Eyes widening, you stared at his nearing figure.

“But now? Now you're finally in a place where you belong. You are finally with your kind but you're still terrified - you're scared that maybe, this isn’t where you’re meant to be either. You're scared that if you accept these people and they find out what you really are, they'll leave you too. They'll break the heart you've been safeguarding for all these years.”

Your heart was quite literally in your mouth.

“That's why you rebel. That's why you call this place 'camp' and never ‘home’. You say things are hard and you're having trouble adjusting but what you're really trying to do is establish that you always are and always will be an outsider - you’re trying to escape the pain that will come when you're finally abandoned. That is why you'll always look for reasons to leave this camp. You'll never let yourself belong, you'll never let yourself become one of those here. So tell me, why do I have to try and bother with your existence when you’re just looking for the first chance to run?”

And somehow, now you could feel the heat all over. It was uncomfortably coursing through your whole body, burning you inside out in a way that made you want to rip out your skin but you already felt so bare, so naked in front of this man.

But before any words could leave you at all, Wonwoo took a step back and then another till he retreated out of sight and into the showers. It was only when he disappeared that you finally let out the breath you were holding.

Maybe the more logical thing to do was to dive into the lake before you hit the showers but here you were, stripping into just your inner wear and jumping into the ice cold waters, desperate to cool yourself off. As you submerged yourself further in the waters, you shut your eyes, submerging into the darkness as well.

The fire burning inside you because of Wonwoo's words was just not dying. For the first time ever, it felt like you had truly looked into a mirror because every single word that came out of that man's mouth was true. So, so true.

And he was right when he said you've never admitted these things even to yourself because you were never really one for introspection. It wasn't like you to explore your thoughts, understand your nature, figure out the intentions of your actions. No, none of that.

You were impulsive. You dived head first into things. You made decisions, then considered the consequences. You were reckless, you lived fearlessly, you lived like no one and nothing else mattered.

Because nothing else did matter.

Ever since you were young, you were on your own. You were not even sure when your mother left you, you had no memories of her and your father? The man who was barely ever present, abandoned you 3 days before your 12th birthday. From then your life had been just yours alone. You worked odd jobs to feed yourself, you worked hard to study, you studied harder to work better and life just went on like that. You didn't have many friends to compensate for the solitude either. Making friends was somehow not very easy for you - how were you supposed to explain the shambles of your life to people? How were you supposed to establish any kind of relationship with anyone when the only ones you ever had, walked out on you?

You were better off alone. You were always better off alone.

That was until one incident turned your entire life upside down.

The days leading up to your arrival at camp are still a blur to you. The flames, the masked men, the court, the meeting of dozens of people - it all still felt like a fever dream. But one moment was still very clear in your memory - the moment when you were standing at the shrine of your mother, in front of her statue.

Goddess of the hearth, home and hospitality they said. The old man beside you was going on and on about her. About her powers, about what a wonderful woman she was, about how delighted you'd be to meet her.

You, though, felt like you were stabbed in the heart you had so carefully locked away.

When the masked men revealed the truth of your parentage, when you learnt about your mother, you let that hope in you grow again. You thought maybe with this big secret finally out you’ll finally get to meet her. That she would finally be a part of your life.

That’s why when they gave you a choice at the swearing in ceremony to join camp seventeen or go back to your mortal life, you chose the former. It was for her, it was to be with your mother, it was to finally feel home.

But as you stared at her statue, offering your respects after the ceremony, it was like someone was drowning you in cold water. Nothing about the expression on her face felt remotely homely, nothing about her felt warm and loving to you - she did not feel like a mother. Rather she felt cold, distant and unwelcoming, just like you imagined the woman who abandoned you would look like.

And with time, you realised your fear was right.

Ever since you arrived at camp, all you did was wait. Wait for just one conversation, maybe an explanation, or even just a glimpse. But there was no indication of her. She didn’t drop by the camp, she didn’t respond to your invocation at the temple, she didn't care at all, just like she hadn’t in the last twenty five years.

The pain of being re-abandoned was so strong that, with each passing day, it began to gnaw on your insides. The breaking point was perhaps realising that you were her only progeny yet you didn't matter to her. It was a blow you had refused to accept but one that had most definitely broken you internally. You had uprooted your whole life for her, you made this new world yours but at what cost - daily incessant instructions to train, classes after classes teaching you how to fit in, members continually trying to make you feel at home. You didn’t want this home, you didn’t want these people, you only wanted her.

Wonwoo was right, you were never here to be a part of this camp, it was merely a stepping stone to your final goal. You were indeed looking to run.

But before you could wonder about how Wonwoo knew all these things about you, a hand wrapped around your waist. In a flash it pulled you out and tossed you onto the bank as you launched into a coughing fit, throwing up water.

“What the hell Y/n?” A worried voice patted your back. “What were you thinking?”

In between your fit, you raised your head to meet the sight of a set of extremely well chiseled abs, rivets of water dripping down them. Gulping you cleared your throat and scooted back, suddenly aware that you were very very minimally dressed.

Your saviour Seokmin, looked away from you realising the same as he grabbed the shirt he had tossed into the grass before jumping into the water and handed it to you. Taking it from him, you slipped it on.

“What is wrong with you?”

“What?” You frowned. “I'm fine.”

“You were underwater for so long, I thought you drowned…” Seokmin muttered, pushing his wet hair off his face. “Are you okay?”

“I'm okay.” You mumbled. You weren't but you knew he wasn't referring to your broken heart.

“You looked distressed.” Or maybe he was.

“I just… had some thinking to do.”

“Well underwater isn't the best place for that if I'm being honest.” He chuckled. “Unless you're Poseidon's child.”

“What, only you have a claim on water?”

“No, only we can breathe underwater.” He somehow looked embarrassed. “Though I was well into my teens before I discovered that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was terrified of water as a child, wouldn't go near it.” He laughed. “Ironic for the Son of the Sea right?”

You scoffed. “A little.”

“When my aura got stronger, my father found me and helped me get habituated to the waters, that's how I-”

“Your father?” You gulped, knowing the answer even as you asked him. “Your father as in Poseidon? Poseidon helped you?”

Seokmin nodded like it was obvious. “I was so scared of any kind of water body, he would lure me in with my favourite snacks. As I got older, I stopped falling for such tricks so he took me to Olympus and made sure I was personally trained in those olympic size pools-”

“Fucking hell.” You got to your feet, much to Seokmin's confusion, tripping as you did.

“Y/n careful!” He quickly got up, catching you before you hit the ground again. “Are you okay-”

“No.” You shook your head.“I am not.”

And with that you walked away from there, body alight with a different kind of fire now. You needed to find someone immediately.

“Jihoon, we need to talk.”

As you slammed the door of Jihoon’s house open, you were met with silence.

This was the first time you were in his residence and somehow if you had to picture how his home looked, it was nowhere close to this. You assumed the son of the Sun would prefer whites or lighter colours but most of the minimal furniture in his house was a dark black, standing out starkly in the small room. But right now wasn't the time for you to ponder about his interiors, there were more important things you needed to talk to him about.

Turning on your heel, you shut the door behind you, wandering into this backyard instead. You knew Jihoon had his own personal gym somewhere there and if Soonyoung was right about his tendency to work out, it was highly likely you would find him there.

“Hi Cow.” You waved at the half asleep animal under the tree, lazily blinking at you. As though it read your mind, it pointed its head towards the small path on the side before tucking its head between its legs and dozing off. You followed its directions, reaching a large tinted greenhouse and when you opened the door you were greeted by two dozen gym equipment. In the middle of it all was the man you were looking for, his bare back facing you as he hung off a bar, pulling himself up with way too much ease.

“Y/n.” Well it was no surprise he recognised you without even a glance. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Why has everyone on camp decided to be shirtless today?” You mumbled, walking in, looking around.

Chuckling, Jihoon jumped off, turning to you as he landed. Eyes running down your body, he cocked his head. “Is that why you chose to go bottomless instead?”

And it was only then that you realized you didn't fully dress yourself before storming away from the lake in just Seokmin's shirt.

“I was hot.” You shrugged, pulling down the shirt.

“Hot you are.” He mumbled, sitting down on the bench, grabbing a pair of dumbells. “There's way too much heat in your body, which means you're either mad or ovulating and I'm not sure how I can help with either.”

“The former.” You rolled your eyes. “And only you can help with it.”

“Go on.” He sighed, curling the weights, his biceps bulging with every move. Tearing your eyes away, you cleared your throat.

“I want to meet my mother.”

“Which one?”

“Hestia.” You crossed your arms. “I have something to ask her.”

“I'm still missing the part where I can help.”

“You said you'll teach me how to reach out to her.”

“I did.” He grunted, focusing on his workout. “And I will, every Thursday at 4-”

You grabbed the dumbbell with surprising ease and put them down before leaning over the man before you, expression threatening.

“Lee Jihoon, I swear to god, if you don't help me right now…”

Your words trailed away as his eyes shifted down to your neck, the shirt no longer hiding the bruises that were littered all over it. You glanced down before straightening yourself, taking a step back. Jihoon got up, pushing his hair back, eyes fixed on you.

“I just…” You sighed. “I just want to meet her once.”

“Then go to the camp temple and invoke her presence.”

“I have, everyday. She doesn’t respond.”

“Then there’s no way I can help you Y/n.” He grabbed his towel, wiping the sweat off his arms. “One can only meet Gods if they wish to meet you and I think your mother has made her wishes very clear.”

“I don’t care what she wishes.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “And you said if I played my cards right, my mother would come looking for me.”

“I also said it would take years of training to become worthy of that.”

“I don't have years, Jihoon. I want to meet her as soon as I can.”

“And why the newfound urgency?” He frowned. “What changed overnight?”

Wonwoo.

“Seokmin said his father taught him to swim, that as a child he took him to Olympus.”

“So?”

“So how come my mother never cared, Jihoon? Why is it that she still doesn't?”

“I already told you-”

“I don't buy that.” You shook your head. “How can a mother be ashamed of having a child? Of her only child?”

“You'd be surprised.” Jihoon looked at you pitably. “Gods aren't like humans.”

“Then let her say that to me.” You took a deep breath. “Let her give me that closure so I can stop losing my mind over this. I just want one meeting with her please, is there really no way?”

“There is one.” He hummed, crossing his arms, his pecs bulging behind them.

“And what is that?”

“By doing a sacrifice.”

“Sac-sacrifice?” You looked at him shocked. “Like those cult stuff?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, forgetting just how little you knew about this world. “Sacrifice is an age-old tradition made by our ancestors to please the gods, to gain their favours.” He leaned against the treadmill, slipping into his professor role, just like he had yesterday. “At times of droughts, they used to call on Zeus for rains. When crops were ravaged by pests, Demeter was the one to turn to. When they were at war, Ares was their savior. But,” He sighed. “calling upon a god was not so easy - it required time and perseverance and procedure-”

“What kind of procedure?”

“It was insanely complex.” Reaching for his bottle, Jihoon began walking out of the greenhouse, you following closely behind. “First, men would have to climb to the top of mount Olympus to get holy fire, then they would gather items for sacrifice. Every god has a set of items that they just cannot refuse. Dionysus loves his gemstones, Poseidon will do anything for seasalt. Artemis is harder to please, she likes a very specific kind of wildflower. If one offered enough of these to please the gods, then they would appear and were obliged to extend one favour in exchange. But ‘enough’ was where the problem lied.” As he bent down to pet Cow, you stared far off at the horizon, lost in thought. ”The Gods were incredibly difficult to satisfy, it took large amounts for anything to be ‘enough’ for them. There were demigods who had spent ages trying to invoke them, even losing their minds in the attempts.”

“That’s degenerate.” You frowned, as he stopped again, this time to grab a bunch of herbs from the wall of his house.

“It was.” He began plucking the leaves, grabbing handfuls. “Eventually, when the Oracle of Delphi was made in charge of the Demigods, things changed. Any demigod who wished to do a sacrifice had to obtain a scroll from her - the Scroll of Sacrifice. A piece of paper that would explicitly state just one thing that the gods wanted in exchange for a favour.”

Pushing the nearby door open, he stepped in.

“So you’re saying,” You followed him into his house. “-the only way for me is to go to the oracle, get a scroll, sacrifice whatever is needed and then in exchange I can earn her favour and make her answer my questions?”

“Theoretically yes, but in reality,” He shook his head, opening yet another door and walking in. “it won’t be that easy.”

“Why not?”

“Delphi only hands scrolls to very few demigods, ones she deems worthy and even if she does, they're incredibly difficult - the sacrifice demanded in exchange is almost always impossible to let go.”

“How hard can it be?” You frowned. “What kind of sacrifices do they ask for?”

Jihoon sighed, the incessant questions finally getting to him. “You do know your weekly classes are for exactly such information right?”

“But I want to know right now.”

“Can I at least tell you without having you stare at me getting dressed?”

Oh.

Apparently you had walked behind him straight into his dressing room.

Muttering an apology, you stepped out as he shut the door behind you.

“So,” You half spun on the balls of your foot. “You were saying?”

Another one of Jihoon’s sighs reached you before his voice. “The Gods are not fond of being obliged to hand out favours - that's why they make sacrifices nearly impossible. I heard Apollo asked for a demigod’s sight and the boy fell to his death before he could even ask for what he wanted. Aphrodite made one of her own children give up her ability to love….. it drove her to insanity. And one of those who prayed to Zeus has been chained to a rock on an abandoned island for nearly twelve years and he still has five more years to go. There are endless stories like this Y/n and each of them will only tell you not to opt for such madness.” He opened the door, now fully dressed, a pair of shorts in his hand. “Here.”

You took it from him, looking a little stumped. “Please wear them Y/n. I can barely look at you…” He muttered walking away again and you quickly slipped on the pair that was just a little too big for you. Following him past a room full of what seemed like musical instruments, you walked into a small pantry.

“What about Hestia?” You gulped, images of her cold face flashing before you. “What has she asked in exchange?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He threw the herbs he had gathered earlier into a motor. “I’ve never heard of anyone who’s really seeked her favour.”

You scoffed. “Of course not, what would they ask her help for? Light up their fireplace?”

Jihoon looked up from the paste he was crushing, slightly miffed. “Your mother is no minor goddess Y/n. She's the caretaker, the protector. Hestia is worshiped in every place called home.”

“How ironic.” You smiled sadly. “Her own daughter has never had a home.”

“Unfortunately, no god considers it their responsibility to take care of their bastard children.” He looked pointedly at the counter. “Sit.”

“Why?”

“Just sit Y/n.”

“But why?”

Sighing, Jihoon rolled his eyes and grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you onto the counter effortlessly as you bit back a scream. As though nothing happened, he continued to do whatever it was he was doing while you tried to calm your uncharacteristically racing heart.

“It's also unfair to blame Hestia for not having a home when your mortal parents were the one who were supposed to care for you.”

“I know.” You muttered looking down at your fiddling fingers. “This may sound insane but finding Hestia might be easier than finding my mortal parents…. I don't know a thing about them.”

“I know someone on camp who can help-”

“But I don't want to find them….yet. I don't know what to ask them.” You looked up as Jihoon pulled out a ladder from the side and began climbing it, reaching for something on the higher shelves. “I’m not prepared to find out if they know the kind of monster I am.”

“Why would you say that?” He looked at you over his shoulder, frowning. “You don’t even know what your powers are, right?”

You gulped, staring at the floor, mind racing back to a conversation last night........

“Try not to touch anything.” Mingyu warned as you strolled along his workshop in the faint light of the moonlight. “I’m not really sure if any of these are still hot. I don’t really…. feel heat.”

As if you did.

Hanging out with Mingyu wasn’t really on your cards today. After Minghao had left you to deal with your little problem on your own, you had silently made your way out of the house and down the street, searching for a pharmacy. It must’ve been a good twenty minute unsuccessful walk before Mingyu, who was driving around on his bike looking for you, spotted you. You told him you were looking to buy some pills for a headache so he offered to drive you to the nearest store. He didn’t need to know what you really needed was some plan B. After you had procured what you wanted and he started heading back to camp, you told him to take the longest route possible. While he obliged, you wrapped your arms around his waist and drifted off, not wanting to think about all that was plaguing your mind. Not wanting to think about Seungcheol.

But he’s the first thought on your mind the moment the bike halted at the camp gate. You didn’t want to see him, not now. Mingyu was generous enough to agree when you muttered wanting to take up his offer to crash in his residence. He didn’t question the change of heart, instead he carefully walked you through his workshop, bringing you to the stairs on the other side, leading you up to his house. You though are far too enthralled to follow him.

“You’ve got quite the space here.” You pursed your lips impressed, stripping out of the jacket as he smiled proudly. “Must never be boring.”

“It isn’t.” He admitted. “Making weapons doesn’t take me too long, leaves a lot of time on my hands for other experiments and endeavors.”

“Such as?”

“I like creating little automations.” He shrugged. “Machinery that allows me to be creative and makes life easier. Like the one that's currently out there chopping up wood, for your house.”

“Oh.” You raised your eyebrows looking around. “What else have you made?”

“Too many to remember.” He laughed. “But my best creation is probably my bike. It took months of trial and error. Couldn't have done it without my best buddy.”

“Wonwoo?” You had noticed the two were significantly closer than the rest. There was definitely some story there.

Mingyu laughed. “Yes Wonwoo is the best but no, I'm talking about that little guy.”

He pointed behind you and you turned, finding yourself about 500 meters away from a not so little three headed dog, snarling at you with all three of its mouths, drooling leaking from the edges. You took a careful step back and another, crashing into the chest of Mingyu who had sneaked up to you.

“What is that?” You whispered, voice shaking just a bit.

“That’s Cerberus, my pet.”

“That’s a pet?!”

“It’s Wonwoo’s actually….. But yes, he’s a pet and he’s really friendly, don’t worry.”

“Huh.” You breathed, not believing his words but only relieved cause you noticed he was chained. “And he helps you with your experiments?”

Mingyu nodded, steering you away from there, walking you toward his house once more. “Cerberus is a very powerful creature - he’s immensely strong, uncharacteristically intelligent and most importantly, he’s my fire source.”

“Fire source?”

“The most important tool for a blacksmith like me is the flame - you see those.” He pointed at big cave shaped structures lined neatly on the edge. “Forging presses like that require fires that cannot be ignited by tiny matchsticks. It takes a powerful source to work them, like Cerberus.”

You tensed, just a little. “So Cerberus can create fire?”

“He breathes fire.” Mingyu clarified. “Cerberus is from the Underworld, like most mysteries in our world. So yeah, he is one of the few creatures that can create fire.”

“C-can’t you?” You scratched the back of your head, trying to seem casual. “You said you don’t feel heat so can’t you… make fire too?”

“Don’t be silly Y/n.” Mingyu scoffed. “Fire is one of the five natural elements. Even the gods, your mother included, can only control fire, not create it.”

You were right. Even here you were a freak, even here you didn’t fit in.

None of Mingyu’s excited explanations about the various projects he was working on went into your head. There was only one thing you could think about - You didn’t belong here and you needed to leave before everyone realised that.

“...and that’s why I don’t have a guest bedroom but don’t worry, my bed is king sized.” Mingyu leaned against the stairs with a small smirk dancing on his face. “Though I can’t promise I can keep my hands to myself.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him to lead the way up. The only thing that gave you comfort as he laughed was the knowledge that if you burned, Mingyu was perhaps the only one who couldn’t hurt with your fire......

“Y/n.” Jihoon hopped off the ladder looking at you quizzically. “Where are you lost?”

“I….” You cleared your throat. “I just meant, I don’t know, what if my mortal parents are aware of any kind of powers I might have? What if… that’s what kept them away from me?”

“Then that’s all the more reason you have to find them.” Jihoon shrugged. “It would help us-”

“No.” You firmly shook your head. “Just…let me just talk to Hestia first, everything else can wait.”

“As you wish.” He held up the bowl of whatever concoction he was mixing, a green paste staring at you. “In the meantime…”

“What is that?”

“It's my special ointment for bruises. Makes any and all scars and wounds disappear.”

“I’m not hurt….” Your voice faded away as Jihoon’s eyes landed on the red, purple and blue trail of hickies on your neck.

“Are you sure you want to go around parading the evidence of your threesome last night?”

“I’m not trying to…how do you even know it was a threesome?”

“Those are clearly marked by two different men.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is this another one of your body reading tricks?”

“Yes but anyone who knows you were at your first Aphrodite rager last night will be able to guess that much.” Jihoon shrugged, standing right before you. “In fact, three is a rather small number there, most scenes tend to involve a minimum of five people.”

You felt your jaw hang as Jihoon looked amused.

“So do you want it gone or not?”

“Why?” You cleared your throat. “You think I should hide all this in case the other boys make assumptions like yours? That I ought to have some shame?”

“Not shame, I thought you might appreciate some privacy.” He shrugged. “Given there’s someone who you have been particularly wary of these days.”

Seungcheol.

How did this man know everything?

Sighing, you gripped the edges of Seokmin's shirt and pulled it over your head, baring your neck to the man before you. Trying not to smile, Jihoon slotted himself between your dangling legs, pushed the hair off your shoulder, gently tending to your bruises.

“It might sting.” He warned right on time as you grabbed his bicep with your free hand, feeling pain shooting up your nerves as the cold ointment touched your skin.

“Breathe.” He instructed, softly running his fingers along your collarbone. “It’ll pass.”

You figured listening to the expert might be better so you did, trying your best to ignore the intimate proximity between the two of you.

“While we are at it,” You looked away as he blew on your wounds, cold wind caressing it. “Do you also have something for potential STDs or…. You know, ensuring our kind doesn’t replicate?”

Jihoon chuckled. “Again, demigods don’t get sick Y/n, STDs don’t mean anything to us and we don’t ‘replicate’ either so there’s really nothing to worry about.”

Suddenly, every cell in your body stopped functioning. “What do you mean?”

Jihoon blinked at you like he was only just realising what he said. “Uh…. Demigods are barren Y/n, we…. cannot have children.”

Though you were sitting it felt like the ground had been pulled from under your feet. Like everything around you had stopped. Like everything had ended.

“Y/n are you okay?”

How could you be? You just learnt that you could never have children, that you could never be a mother. All your life you didn’t have a family but now? Being a demigod had robbed you of your chance to ever have one in the future. You wanted to peel that part away, rip it and throw it somewhere far away, get rid of this side of you that had done nothing but make everything worse.

Jihoon seemed to have understood the storm inside you. Or felt it. He was quiet as he grabbed a washcloth and slowly wiped away the ointment, the bruises beneath it starting to look a lot lighter already. As the sting ebbed away, the pain in your heart felt more apparent, coursing through you, hurting everywhere.

At that moment your eyes trailed over the soft and sharp features of his face burrowed in concentration, your admiration for it overpowering every other thought.

That’s it. That’s what you needed again. A distraction.

Now that his job was done, Jihoon tried to move away but your grip on his arm was like a vice. He glanced at it then at you with a raised eyebrow.

“So you're telling me-” You cocked your head at him. “-even though I let two men cum inside me yesterday and if my prediction is right, another will get his turn today - I'm not at the potential risk of anything?”

Jihoon raised his eyebrow. “No you're not but pray tell, since when did the daughter of Hestia dabble in predictions? I thought that was in the hands of Apollo's prodigy.”

“It is.” You ran your hand down his arm, feeling every ridge of muscle under your touch, voice leaving you in a whisper. “The possibility of my prediction coming true or not is in your hands really.”

Jihoon’s eyes darkened as your tongue darted out to lick your lower lip slowly. Before you knew it, his hands gripped the thickness of your thighs and with a quick jerk he pulled you closer to him, your legs wrapping around his waist. Jihoon looked up at you and you down at him, breaths mingling in anticipation.

“I know what you're doing Y/n and I know why you're doing this.” He spoke ever so softly. “But I'm not a distraction kind of guy so if there's ever a time you really want me, then you'll have me.”

With that he pulled you off the counter and let you lower your legs on to the floor, looking away. Given the kind of tension and the comfort you had grown to have with him and most importantly how unbelievably hard he was, his length right below your ass, you didn't think he'd say no. It was fair, he was allowed to. It wasn't his fault you were looking to jump any given person just to take your mind off things.

Nodding, and mumbling a soft thanks for the ointment, you grabbed your shirt and walked past him, only stopping by the corridor to return what was his.

“Sorry.” Muttering you slid off his shorts and placed it on the shelf beside you.

Jihoon surprisingly let out a soft groan. You thought it was because you were suddenly minimally dressed but you noticed his eyes were gazing between your legs, on the wet spot of your underwear. You tried to press your legs closer, suddenly feeling very exposed but all it does is darken the spot, making things worse.

“Fucking hell.” Jihoon muttered and in a flash you were pushed up against the wall, trapped between it and him, caged by his arms on either side. “I'm only just a man Y/n.”

Your eyes flickered down to his pants, the outline of his hard on starkly visible. “Uh huh.”

“Do you still want this?”

You cocked your head, hand running down his chest and over the tent in his pants as you smirked. “I predicted it.”

“Allow me to make a pre-” His words faltered as you squeezed his length. “-prediction as well.”

“By all means.”

“You're gonna cum three times before I do.”

“Oh really?” You raised your eyebrows and spat into your hand, slipping it past the waistband of his pants, wrapping your hand around his length. “I don't think so.”

“That's….” He half panted, watching your hand do its job, his own hands still against the wall like they were taped to it. “Getting a headstart is cheating.”

“You're slow.”

“I'm savouring.” He smiled, leaning closer. “I'm in good hands and I know you're soaked. It's only a matter of time before you're begging.”

You chuckled softly as though you were amused by his assumption but true to his words, your walls were already fluttering, clenching around nothing as your legs squeezed together. Jihoon, like the master of reading your body that he was, put his hand right in between, cupping you over your underwear, the pressure of his palm on your clit ever so light. From the soft sigh that left your mouth you both knew you were faring far worse than he was - truly, it was brave on your part to challenge him.

“Jihoon….”

He hums in response as the pace of your hand falters.

“Touch me.”

“I am sweetheart.”

“More.” You wrapped your free hand around his wrist, breath shaking and Jihoon allowed you to lead him exactly where you wanted him - past the hem of your panties, right where the wetness was pooling between your legs.

“Good fucking god…” He swore like he didn't expect you to be this drenched. What a funny guy. What did he think was gonna happen when he was this undeniably hot?

You on the other hand expected him to be a tease, to draw this out, to make you beg. But to your complete surprise, he wasted no time in sliding two thick digits in, making you squeeze his length at the sheer stretch of the intrusion.

“Sweetheart, you're gonna kill me.” He muttered, shutting his eyes tight.

You wanted to apologise, you really did but whatever words were leaving your mouth didn't seem to be making any sense. Not when Jihoon was picking up the pace, taking turns pumping, curling and scissoring his fingers inside you. You felt your back arch on its own, head thrown back as an unholy moan left your being. Fuck he was right, you cannot possibly think of anything else now - this man was capable of turning you into a complete wreck before you could even get a moan out of him.

“Your bruises have nearly disappeared.” He noticed with your neck bared to him once again. “It was prettier marked.”

“Mark it then.” You panted, composing yourself, getting back to stroking him again. “Do whatever you want.”

And that's enough to break his resolve, as you felt his fingers slowing down while his teeth ran across the skin of your shoulder. Taking advantage of his momentary fixation, you ran your thumb across his slit, feeling the precum spill onto your fingers. Jihoon groaned, his mouth getting more aggressive on your neck as you gripped his bicep again, sinking your nails into it.

Fuck, there it was.

That tightening in the pits of your being, there it was, slowly climbing as you felt your legs starting to shake and Jihoon smirking against your skin, reading all the signs like he knew your body inside out. Thank god he could because just when you needed it, he slid in another finger and curled them up, reaching that sweet spot that had you instantly snapping, falling apart.

He stilled his movements as you convulsed around his fingers, holding onto him tight but before you could even come down from your high, he started moving again.

“Ji… Jihoon.” You whimpered, chest heaving. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

And before you know it your barely ebbed orgasm blended into a second one and you were practically gushing out into his hand.

“Damn sweetheart.” He smiled at you like he was a little too pleased with himself. “You're an easy one.”

Excuse me?

You could barely get a hold of yourself but that wasn't the most pressing matter - how dare he dismiss you so easily?

Given your mouth was dry you swallowed on nothing, and shoved him back with just a small�� push. Jihoon looked at you confused initially, then his eyes widened as you dropped to your knees and he realised what you were up to. But just as your hand reached the waistband of his bottoms and he pushed the hair off your face, more than ready to fuck your mouth, a loud sound rang through the silence of the afternoon.

“Shit.” Jihoon muttered pulling you up. “That's code purple.”

You groaned. “Why are there so many fucking colours?”

Frowning, he threw you your clothes before leading you to a small basin to wash your hands and his. “We need to go. It’s an emergency team meeting.”

As he scurried around grabbing his things, his bow and arrows to be specific, you dressed yourself once again, watching him. Guess neither of your predictions were coming true after all.

Noticing you were still lost in your thoughts, Jihoon sighed and grabbed you by the hand, leading you out of his house and to the dining hall of the common cabin where apparently all team meetings were held.

When the two of you had reached, thankfully only Soonyoung and Seungkwan were there and though their expressions were full of questions, they asked none. Before you knew it, everyone had gathered and whispers going around as they settled in their seats but the moment Seungcheol raised his hand, they died down.

“What's the matter?”

Seungkwan nodded at Soonyoung who stood up, looking around.

“Kwan and I sent some messages out today asking about the geese attack last night.” He shook his head slowly. “It seems no camp is responsible for it.”

Minghao spun the blade in his hand with a frown. “So it wasn't a prank or an act of retribution?”

Seungkwan shook his head. “Considering how we all thought their nature was odd, Hansol connected us to some Hunters of Artemis.” He laid out a map with four red crosses. “They gave us four locations where birds like this were sighted.”

“So this was just like any other animal attack?” Seokmin leaned back, looking relieved.

“I'm afraid not. It may or may not be a coincidence but the Hunters also claim that all four locations have been frequently exhibiting very high energy signals, signals that might belong to…” Seungkwan gulped. “The Chimaera.”

A strange silence descended upon the room as glances were exchanged. You looked at Jihoon questioningly but he looked troubled.

“The fire breather.” Chan let out a low whistle. “It hasn't been heard of in centuries.”

“It seems to be on the move off late.” Hansol tucked the arrows he was polishing into his quiver. “It's hunting.”

“And I think the geese are its agents.” Soonyoung pointed out. “Geese have always been symbols of vigilance and surveillance. Whatever the Chimaera is hunting, I think it's using the birds to trace it. That's why neither Jun nor Hansol could understand them, because they aren't wild or domestic - they're monsters.”

“Chan,.” Seungcheol straightened himself. “Alert Olympus, tell them we need troops-”

“It seems Olympus assigned the hunt to Artemis, ” Seungkwan added. “And you know how the Hunters function. Their goal is to capture the beast, not kill it so they have been taking their time to strategize.”

“Well we can't wait for them to figure things out.” Jeonghan stared at the map on the table, a hundred things running in his mind. “We're going to have to hunt the monster on our own.”

“Us?” Minghao looked around. “Do you even understand how powerful the creature is-”

“Should we just sit back and wait for it to attack the camp then?” Jeonghan raised his eyebrows. “Because whatever it's looking for is here and monsters aren't patient creatures.”

“I know, but-”

“Minghao.” Seungcheol interrupted, warning. “Jeonghan is our strategist, we'll let him decide what's best.”

Minghao nodded begrudgingly as Jeonghan pulled the paper towards himself, Soonyoung handing him a pen.

“We'll split according to our assigned partners.” He began drawing out lines and scribbling names. “Seungkwan and Soonyoung, you two head to the demigod union in the city and alert them, in case we need back up. Minghao and Jun, I want you both here for camp protection, Mingyu and Wonwoo as well…” He looked thoughtful. “If the Chimaera decides to attack the camp in our absence, Cerberus is the only chance we have against it.”

As all four boys nodded, Jeonghan turned to the rest.

“The remaining of us will go to the four locations. Everyone will use an energy reader and find the location of the Chimaera. Once you’ve narrowed down its location, alert the team to gather for a hunt. Any foolishness such as going after the monster on your own will not lead to punishment because you'll already be dead.” He glanced around. “Is that understood?”

Mummers of agreement echoed in the room.

“Jihoon and Hansol, you two head to the one in the south, that's the biggest area but your hounds should help cover it. Joshua and I will head east, Chan and Seokmin will head west and Seungcheol…..” His eyes landed on the leader who was very evidently shaking his head. “Seungcheol and Y/n, you two will head north.”

You looked at Jeonghan in disbelief.

“Han,” Seungcheol spoke before you could say anything. “I don't need a partner, I've always been a lone hunter-”

“That was because we were an odd number of members. But now there's 14 of us so Y/n will go with you-”

“It's a dangerous mission and she's untrained.” Seungcheol spoke between gritted teeth. “She will be better off in camp-”

“She will be safer with our strongest warrior.” Jeonghan argued back. “You cannot always be team leader Cheol, learn to be a team player. Y/n will accompany you.”

“No I won’t.” You shook your head. “I have no interest in being where I am not wanted.”

“Y/n, it's not a choice.” Jeonghan sounded tired. “I'm the strategist and this is an order-”

“I don't care.” You got up, firm about your decision. “I'm not going anywhere with this man.”

And with that you stormed away from there, ignoring the faint voice of Jeonghan who sighed and continued giving instructions.

“We leave tomorrow at daybreak.”

You stared at the schedule in your hand wondering why on Earth you hadn't looked at it before you stepped into the classroom. Admittedly all your time went in washing up, changing your clothes, grabbing lunch and rushing for your afternoon lesson, but you should have noticed what was in store for today.

Friday - Quest Strategy (Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan)

And you didn't want to see either of them right now.

But before you could grab your things and leave the room to make it seem like you were never here in the first place, Jeonghan arrived, standing against the door, watching you pack up.

“You need to stop running away from everything.”

As he walked in, you looked up, rolling your eyes. “And you need to stop interfering in my life.”

“My decisions as strategist aren't personal Y/n, I do what's beneficial for the camp and its members.” He leaned against the board. "Accommodating your individual preference is not a part of my job profile.”

“Okay, that's great, then be prepared for only one of us to come back alive tomorrow.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at your dramatic statement. “What happened between the two of you?”

You scoffed at him. As if you were going to tell him.

“Seungcheol has been my comrade since we were teenagers, I know him better than anyone and I know for a fact that he's not the villain you're making him to be.”

“Oh he's not?” You crossed your arms. “Okay then explain why when I was throwing myself onto him for days, he kept avoiding me but the moment I walked away from him, he came chasing? And did the man at least go through with that? No, he decided to leave me hanging yet again and then he behaved like everything that's happening is my fault?” You threw your hands in the air. “No apology, no explanation, he just continued to avoid me and when I finally got him out of my mind, then he decided he wanted to talk to me? I didn't want to, but he couldn't even respect my space and ended up coming to the party and….”

“And?” Jeonghan looked curiously.

“And I think he knows that I slept with Soonyoung….” You didn't meet Jeonghan’s eyes. “and Minghao.”

Jeonghan hummed, nodding his head, taking in all the information, as you added quickly.

“But it was only because all of us were under the influence of aphrodisiacs-”

“That's irrelevant.” Jeonghan waved his hand. “Who you choose to be with and what you choose to do is entirely your choice. But you think Seungcheol is mad about that?”

“I'm not sure. I have a feeling he is.”

“That's not right.”

“Now you see my point?”

“I didn’t say he wasn't stupid.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “But I still stand by the fact that he's not a bad person.”

“Okay mate, you need to get your head out of your bestie's ass.”

Jeonghan laughed, shaking his head. You expected him to say something snarky but his expression slowly turned serious.

“Do you know why you're in Camp Seventeen Y/n?”

“Because I'm a demigod?” That was perhaps the first time you had said that out loud.

“Yes but why this camp?”

“The Oracle assigned me.”

“Partly.” Jeonghan nodded. “The Oracle of Delphi only assigns demigods to camps that are willing to take them. Seungcheol was the only leader willing to take you.”

Your lips parted in surprise as Jeonghan continued.

“Do you know what was supposed to happen the night you were kidnapped and brought to the court?”

You shook your head.

“You were going to be attacked.” Jeonghan let out a deep breath. “The sudden activation of your aura after years of dormancy seemed to have drawn in a lot of attention. Days after your little incident, Olympus sent out a report that the levels of monster activity in the city were unprecedentedly high. They said there was a large influx of monsters and we had to be alert but I don't think so. Especially not after what we learnt today.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's not monsters but one monster that came to the city.” Jeonghan looked at you keenly. “I think it was the Chimaera and I think you are what it's hunting.”

The things in your hand slipped and hit the floor with a thud. You?

“You mean… I'm the threat in this camp?”

“You're the one in danger.” He corrected. “But yes you are the threat and more importantly, Cheol knows that. He always knew that. It was evident from the start that you were a monster magnet, that you are some kind of anomaly and that making you a part of our camp would only mean more danger but he said it didn't matter. He said as long as someone needed to be saved, he would do it. He said he would be your protector and that's why you're here Y/n - because Cheol made the choice to safeguard you.”

You blinked at a loss of words.

“Even yesterday, when the geese attacked and we didn't know what was happening at the party, his first instinct was to check if you were okay. That's why he came to the rager. That’s also why he's been so frustrated, why he doesn't want you to accompany him tomorrow. Your safety is his first priority.”

Letting out a deep breath, you ran your hand through your hair, internally beating yourself up. You had no idea.

“Will Seungcheol be coming for the lesson today?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “I don't think so, he's busy at Mingyu’s workshop, preparing for tomorrow, like you should be doing too.”

“I can't possibly learn anything by tonight that'll help me tomorrow.”

“Yes you can.” Jeonghan walked up to you. “We can try and understand why the Chimaera is after you. We can discuss your lawsuit considering it was the root cause of everything and see if it gives us any answers. Let me just call Wonwoo and-”

“Absolutely not.” You quickly grabbed all your things again. Wonwoo was still on the list of people you didn't want to meet. “I need to find Cheol first.”

And with that you swung your bag over your shoulder, rushing out of the classroom, leaving a sighing Jeonghan behind.

When you reached Mingyu’s residence, Seungcheol was indeed in the workshop along with a couple of camp members, inspecting the weapons for tomorrow. Immersed in their discussion they didn't notice your presence until you stepped in and Cerberus let out a low growl, his eyes following you.

“Y/n.” Mingyu jogged up to you, looking concerned. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” You gulped looking at Seungcheol’s back. “I was hoping to talk to Cheol real quick.”

“We're in the middle of a meeting, I'm not sure…”

“Please Mingyu, it'll be quick.”

“I can ask him but-”

“Gyu.” Seungcheol looked over his shoulder. “What's the matter?”

“Y/n is here,” Mingyu raised his voice. “She wants to talk to you.”

As lightning ripped across the sky, Seungcheol let out a deep breath “Send her away.”

And for the nth time you could hear your heart breaking because of Seungcheol.

“Seungcheol I just want to apolo-”

“I don't want to hear it.” He turned to you, voice hard and gaze unforgiving. “Please leave.”

Mingyu looked at you apologetically as did the other members, Jihoon included. Taking a step back and then another you walked out, the low grumbles of the thunder not louder than the thumping of your heart.

Sometimes you really had to remind yourself that Natalie was in fact a pig and not a dog.

You tended to forget given how much she liked to be taken on walks and sniff everything around. Today she took you from Seungcheol’s house to Mingyu’s to Seungkwan’s to the common cabin and finally to the temple where she found a spot of wet mud and decided to roll in it. That was until she spotted Wonwoo walking by, perhaps heading to secure the camp's borders for the night, given it was nearly dusk. You looked away from him but your pet decided to jump up and follow him like she always loved to do.

Sighing, you walked over to the area designated for campfire and sat on one of the logs, picking on the chips of wood nonchalantly. When the cold wind of the evening caressed your skin, sending shivers down your spine, you looked around, making sure no one was watching you. Realising you were all alone you waved your hand, watching the flames dance on your palm before they floated over to the wood in the middle, lighting the campfire. You stared at the orange flames, Jeonghan's words ringing in your head again - I think you're what it's hunting.

It couldn't be a coincidence. A powerful monster, a fire breather that had been quiet for centuries, wanting to find you of all people. That couldn't be a coincidence. Was it possible the Chimaera knew something about you? Did it know why you were such a freak?

And why did Seungcheol choose to protect someone like you? Why won't the man just let you hate him peacefully? He just had to be so righteous and brave and good…. But if he cared about you so much, why did he always pull away? Why did he never reciprocate?

It seemed like life only liked to throw questions at you, never any answers. You were too tired for all this. You just wanted to stop thinking. You just wanted this day to end and let yourself be taken away by sleep so you could forget all this. You just wanted some peace.

As though the universe hated you, at that exact time, Jihoon walked out of the temple, hands shoved in his pockets, mind clearly elsewhere. You were thankful he hadn't noticed your presence and had almost left the premises busy in his own world until he suddenly stopped at the edge of the trees, turning back to see you.

As your eyes locked his, he sighed walking back to you, sitting just over a foot away. He didn't say anything and you didn’t know what to say.

“You're nervous.” He pointed out. “Your heart is racing.”

You shook your head exasperated. “Do people tell you how annoying it is to be around you?”

“Not quite.” He chuckled. “I don't like being around people.”

“Why am I the exception?”

“You came looking for me.”

“You literally just came and sat next to me.”

“I meant earlier.”

“I'm talking about now.”

“I just…” He sighed, turning to you. “I just wanted to say, don’t take whatever Seungcheol says to heart. He has too many pressures on him as leader, especially in situations like this-”

“You know, that excuse is getting very overused. Is his consistent dismissal of me justified just because he's a busy, important man?”

“It's not.” Jihoon shook his head. “But I thought you should know - his heart was racing just as fast when you came to talk to him. It always is around you.”

You scoffed, tired of people telling you the same thing.

“All that tachycardia could be pathological. He should get himself checked-”

“There's clearly something he's unable to tell you, some reason for why he is the way he is.” Jihoon justified. “Give him a chance to explain himself.”

“I have to give him a chance?” You looked at him incredulously. “Did you not see how he sent me away?”

“Yes I did, it was the same way you ran away to a party when he wanted to talk.” Jihoon rolled his eyes. “If you both just keep being idiots like this, things are never going to get better.”

“Honestly things don’t have to.” You tugged on the sleeves of your shirt. “It's not like we are star crossed lovers or something. This infatuation or crush or whatever it is, it will eventually die down. All I hope is for us to at least be courteous with each other but he can't even seem to do that.”

Jihoon stared at the ground. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

That was a question you didn't have an answer to. So you ignored it.

“I just want us to be pleasant over tomorrow's hunt, that's all. But something tells me things might just get a whole lot worse.”

“Are you making predictions again?” Jihoon chuckled. “Have you still not learnt that you're horrible at it?”

“Hey, that's not fair.” You laughed along. “Besides, the day is not over yet.”

“Oh you still think you stand a chance with me?”

You narrowed your eyes at his laughing self. “I didn't say it had to be you. But you said you could make me cum thrice - I only came once.”

“Twice.”

“Once.”

“You're forgetting that I can read your body.” He cocked his head at you. “Twice.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “Still less than three.”

“You and I both know if I wasn't interrupted I could've done it.”

“Not true.” You shook your head. “If I blew you, you didn't stand a chance.”

“How ever will we know which of us is right?”

He looked at you, something darker swirling behind his eyes and it made your insides twist. There was a way to find out and given how empty you had been feeling since earlier, maybe you would have, if only Seungwkan didn't walk over, settling down on the log across yours. Although Jihoon and you were already sitting apart, the two of you moved further away.

“Natalie is sleeping in Jun's barn apparently.” Seungkwan informed. “Wonwoo has too much to do today - There won't be a shift handover tomorrow since Hansol and Jihoon will be heading for the hunt.”

You nodded, not really understanding because you didn't really bother to actually. Your mind was entirely elsewhere, wondering about other possibilities.

“We uh should probably sleep early since, you know,-” You got up swinging your arms. “-big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Jihoon followed your suit, slowly standing. “Better get good rest.”

Seungwkan nodded, glancing at Hansol who was walking over, “You two go ahead, the two of us need to have a little chat.”

You nodded as the man in question sat beside Seungwkan, poking the fire with a stick, avoiding your eyes as usual. Unbothered, you turned to Jihoon, catching him already looking at you.

“Jihoon can I-”

“Y/n do you-”

Both of you looked at each other, gulping.

“I uh…” You tried yet again to feign casualness. “I wanted to ask for the ointment you gave me earlier, for bruises. I�� have many mosquito bites.”

“Right.” He scratched his head. “I was going to offer you the same.”

“Oh good.”

“Yeah good.”

Seungkwan’s eyes flickered between the two of you but it was only when Hansol looked up that you realised just how suspicious this must seem. Waving an uncharacteristic bye, you quickly left, Jihoon following at a considerable distance as you made your way to his residence.

The events of earlier today repeated in a similar fashion - Jihoon plucked a few herbs and walked into his house. You followed him, straight into his pantry this time considering neither of you needed a change of clothes. He proceeded to grind up the greens in a paste as you leaned against the door, watching the strong muscles of his back. Fuck you’d love to run your nails down that.

“What are we doing Y/n?” Finally stopping whatever he was doing, Jihoon gripped the edges of the counter, his expression unseen.

“I don’t know what you are doing.” You shrugged. “I am just here to prove I was right.”

Chuckling, Jihoon turned to you. When he saw you slowly unbuttoning the shirt you had donned, his eyes darkened. “Straight down then left.” He turned back to whatever he was doing. “Wait in my room.”

Pulling your shirt off your shoulders you threw it at him, letting out a giggle and walking away.

“I don’t like to wait!” You announced, following his instructions. Almost.

On the way your eyes fell on the music room you had seen earlier, legs instinctively taking a detour. There were all kinds of instruments in there - banjos on the wall, guitars lined up beside the drum set. There was a large grand piano too and a huge computer with all kinds of equipment around. It was impressive to say the least.

“I said left, not right.” Jihoon walked in, one hand shoved in his pocket, another holding on to a strange, black drink.

“You have a recording studio here.”

“I would say you're observative but it's pretty obvious so that would be an overstatement.”

“How do you power these?” You turned to him. “Without electricity?”

“Well you’re analytical, I’ll give you that.” He let out a small laugh before he explained. “I’m the Sun’s progeny - a little solar energy goes a long way.”

“So all of these work?” You looked around surprised. “Can I listen to something you’ve made?”

“I don’t think we’re close enough for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “But we’re close enough for you to have your fingers in me?”

“You asked for it.” He shrugged. “And I’m a giver.”

Laughing, you ran your fingers across the piano. “Can you at least play something for me?”

Jihoon looked at you for a solid minute before he let out a resigned breath. Setting the drink down on the counter, he grabbed a saxophone from the wall and aligned it with his mouth. You leaned against the piano, urging him to continue with the tilt of the head.

As the sultry sound of his melody rang through the room, you found yourself swaying to it - it was a good piece, a sexy one that definitely worked to set the mood. But you had ways you could do that on your own too.

Nearing him, each step matching the rhythm of the music, you ran your hand along his groin, feeling his erection already waiting for you. Smirking to yourself you got on your knees before him, hands working on his waistband and surprisingly, you heard him mess up a note.

“Uh oh.” You tutted, looking up at him. “No mistakes, no fumbling or I’ll stop.”

Jihoon tensed under your touch, continuing to play his piece, facing turning red but the melody not stopping. Unzipping his pants, you just about leaned in to give the bulge in his underwear a butterfly of a kiss when you felt a chill run down your body. Something was wrong.

As though you’d lost all sense of autonomy, you could feel yourself moving back, sitting on your heels, your hands proceeding to unclasp your bra instead. Sliding it down your arms and throwing it away, you got up and shimmied out of your shorts and underwear in one go. You gulped as Jihoon watched you sit on the black couch across him, breaths shallow and fast, chest heaving because this wasn’t you - you somehow had no control over your body. You didn’t mean to pull your legs up and spread them open or run your fingers along your slit, or slide them into your wet hole as though you were putting on a show for him. Yes you felt good but none of this was you.

Jihoon watched with hooded eyes as you pumped your fingers in and out, free hand moving up to squeeze a boob. Everything moved to its own accord, working you up with a vigor you would have never used on yourself, the sound of the wetness and your moans almost drowning out the song. Your back arched as you felt everything tense, but your eyes did not leave Jihoon’s who finally could not take it anymore, setting the sax aside, leaning over you.

His own fingers found your clit, rubbing onto it in a way that unmistakably tightened the coil in you. Whimpers left your mouth and though it felt like you were in control of yourself again, you couldn’t stop. Not now, not when you were feeling so good, not when you were so close…. Not until Jihoon whispered.

“Come on sweetheart, cum for me.”

And you did, around your own fingers, eyes seeing white as he continued to tease your clit, a groan rumbling across his chest.

“Wha…” You panted, slowly coming down from your high, arousal leaking out of you. “What the hell just happened?”

“That-” Jihoon smirked, straightening himself. “-was my prediction coming true.”

“But why could I… why could I not…”

“Control yourself?”

You nodded.

“Because the song you just heard is what we call Apollo’s Anthem.” He cocked his head at you victoriously. “If mastered, the one who plays it can make anyone dance to their tunes, like you just did.”

“That….” Your eyes widen with realization. “That was you? Making me do all that?”

He nodded.

“Now that's cheating.” You huffed, pulling your legs together, pressing them. “I demand a rematch. We're gonna have to redo-”

“Next time.” He fisted the material at the back of his neck and pulled his shirt over this head. “Right now there's another prediction we need to work on.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as Jihoon stripped out of his pants, baring himself completely given he had gone commando underneath.

“For fucks sake, I've been hard since the afternoon and there's nothing I can think other than cumming inside you.”

A triumphant smirk danced across your lips as you leaned back, watching his callously stroke his length.

“You know, I had my fill with three orgasms today and I'm quite exhausted. I see no reason I have to indulge.”

Jihoon blinked at you. “Didn't you want to be proven right?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “My math teacher always used to say, the truth never needs to be proven, it always reveals itself. He was a hot man, now that I'm thinking about him, very irresistible.”

“Can we please not talk about your hot math teacher while I'm jerking off?” Jihoon groaned. “Now I'm thinking of my math teacher and he was a gnome of a man.”

You laughed, watching as he picked up the pace, desperate to finish himself.

“Is your right hand satisfying enough?”

“No but I'll have to settle for imagining it's you.” He whimpered. “Albeit it's not even close to how tight you were.”

You hummed, suddenly feeling both pity for him and curiosity as to just how much a dick as thick as that could stretch you out. “Do you still want to fuck me?”

“Why is that still a question?”

“I'll allow it.” Spreading your legs again, you ran your fingers along the folds again, this time wantonly, smearing the remnants of your previous orgasm all over. “But only because you've to hunt tomorrow and I don't want you to be distracted, thinking about dicking me down-.”

“Stop talking and move over.” He muttered and finally you listened, shifting to the side as he sat beside you. Wasting no time, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into his lap, his dick grazing against your clit, sending a jolt down your body. As you held his shoulders, he pumped himself a few times before aligning the tip right at your hole, dragging it along the wetness agonisingly slowly.

“Jihoon for god's sake, just put it in.”

“Say you want me to fuck you.”

“You want me to fuck you.”

Your bratty-ness was met with a painful spank on the ass.

“Say it.” He rubbed the area softly, before spreading the cheeks, the head of his dick ever so slightly entering you. “Say you want this as much as me.”

You tried to chase that feeling, sink further down his length, but his grip was strong and unnerving.

“Fuck Jihoon please.” You whined as his mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking it. “Let's just do this already.”

“Can’t hear you.”

“Jihoon…” You begged as he pulled out, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“Walls are soundproof sweetheart.” He reached up, nuzzling your neck. “Let me hear you.”

“For fucks sake, fuck me already Jihoon!” You babbled, desperate to not lose the feeling of him sliding into you again. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me-”

“Ride me.” He whispered, pushing you down on his cock, the sheer thickness of it nearly splitting you open. “God you're so tight.”

“And you're so big.” You moaned, as you bottomed out on him, feeling every inch of his thickness against your fluttering walls.

Jihoon allowed you to adjust to his length, mouth working on marking your breasts instead but when you began involuntary squeezing him he pulled away, biting his lip like he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Y/n....” He mumbled, fingers gripping your waist tighter. “Move.”

And you did, like your life depended on it, knees digging into the couch taking support. With his hands sliding down to your ass again, he helped too, bouncing you on him with a pace you could not have managed on your own. You threaded your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck, head thrown back, guttural moans leaving you. Jihoon seemed to enjoy all of it, the way you sounded, the way you felt around him, the way you gripped his hair as your core began to tighten threateningly. You could tell from the way he chose to hold you in place instead, thrusting himself up into you and your arousal dripping down his length filthily that you were close but he was far from ready for this to be over.

Oh this was going to be a long night.

“Y/n wake up.” It was the soft shaking that drew you out of your sleep. “It’s nearly dawn.”

Jihoon’s face hovered over yours, looking tense. You stretched awake, blinking your eyes open, looking around - you were still in his music room, lying on his couch. You must’ve slept here last night, you didn’t even realise when you went into a deep slumber. From all the bedding on the floor you figured Jihoon crashed in here with you despite having a room of his own in his own house. Slightly thankful that he was gracious enough to not leave you alone, you sat up, pulling your hair into a bun.

“The boys are done washing up if you wish to hit the showers.” He gathered the remaining of your clothes on the floor, which was really just your bra and handed it to you. “You should also eat something. We skipped dinner last night.”

Of course you did.

You’d never had sex this intense before last night. You vaguely remembered cumming nearly three more times - once while you were riding him, right before he emptied his load right into you and two more before he pulled you off him and had you on your knees on the couch, your ass and his cum dripping out of you on display for him as he fucked you and filled you one more time. After that, right before you faded into a deep sleep, you also recalled him cleaning you, handing you that black drink from earlier and helping you get dressed - eating was not even on your agenda before you passed out.

But now admittedly, you were hungry and also in desperate need for a shower so you swung your legs off the couch and got to your feet. Taking a step was particularly difficult though, given how sore you were.

“Here.” Jihoon handed you a glass of the same potion. “It’ll help with the pain.”

Muttering a small thanks, you downed the bitter juice in one gulp. As you returned the glass he handed you a small box of a very familiar green ointment, looking pointedly at your neck. Apparently he had given you his own set of the very bruises he had healed yesterday. Scoffing, you took it from him, walking away, towards the main door.

“Are you okay?” He asked from behind as you nodded, looking over your shoulder.

“Thank you Jihoon, for everything.” and with that you shut the door, stepping out into the darkness before dawn, taking a deep breath.

Something about Jihoon’s expression told you he was expecting you to say something more but you didn’t have anything else to say. He was a distraction, you were successfully distracted and now you were back to your reality and the real world. Now it was time to face Seungcheol again.

Realising the sun would be out in a while, you quickly headed for a shower keeping your head down not to meet the eyes of the boys busy loading the cars at the edge of the camp. As you walked into the bathhouse you wondered if you would meet your regular bypasser at this time of the day too and brushed off the possibility but to your complete surprise, Wonwoo, fully dressed for a change, was right there, leaning against the lockers as though he was waiting for you.

“You're on time.”

“And I don't have the time for you.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your towel, heading towards the showers.

“Careful Y/n.” Wonwoo called out from behind you, his voice a lot less nonchalant than it normally was. “The Chimaera is no small monster. It's dangerous, manipulative and feeds on chaos.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder as he continued.

“If things take a turn and you're forced to face it, do whatever it takes to fight it. Don't think, don't analyse, just do it.”

Frowning, you turned to him, wondering why he was suddenly saying all this but without explaining himself any further, Wonwoo straightened himself and simply left from there.

By the time you had arrived at the dining hall, right around the time the sun had begun to peak from behind the mountains, all the boys had gathered around the table, dressed in armours and gear. Jeonghan was leading the meeting again, walking around handing something that looked a lot like a golden medallion.

“Keep your energy readers close to you at all times - the Chimaera is a very intelligent monster but it's not very fast, so in a critical situation, early detection may be what saves your lives.” Noticing your presence, he walked up to you, holding the medallion out. “This is an energy reader. The way demigods have auras, monsters do too and this little handy thing can pick up on it. The closer you are to a creature, the warmer it gets so pay attention. If the medallion manages to pick the right frequency, it will morph into an image of the monster so you'll know exactly what it is. Understood?”

You nodded.

“Turn.”

And you did, as he pushed your hair onto a shoulder and secured the chain at the nape of your neck. You ran your fingers across the golden indentation of the surface curiously - it was kind of heavy.

“Your armour is in Cheol's car.” Mingyu piqued from his seat. “So are the flares and your looking glass.”

You turned to Jeonghan who understood the confusion etched on your face.

“You are, at no point, allowed to abandon your partner but on the off chance that you are separated, send a flare and it will help him identify your location and a looking glass-” He pulled out a small pane of glass from his pocket. “-is how you can communicate with the members. Just say the name of whoever you want to talk to and they'll appear on it.”

Finally understanding you nodded, as Jeonghan handed you one last thing - a folded paper.

“This is a copy of the map. Seungcheol will be driving so be sure to guide him properly.”

You looked over his shoulder at the leader who seemed tense.

“Whatever is going on between you two, please just keep aside for one day.” Jeonghan looked at you pointedly and sighing, you nodded. You would be courteous with him, you could do that much.

As the boys began shuffling around, getting to their feet and leaving the hall, a hand on your arm stopped you from following.

“Breakfast.” Jun held out with a small box that looked like it was filled to the brim. “Eat on the way. You'll need your energy.”

Muttering a grateful thanks, you took it from him, glancing at Minghao who was standing beside him, arms crossed.

“I know you're not fully trained but every demigod should have a weapon on them when they're out in the real world.” Your trainer put a pair of daggers in your hand. “Twin blades. I think they'll suit you.”

You turned the sheathed weapons in your hand, liking how light they felt. Minghao seemed proud of how comfortable you were.

“Stay safe doll.”

He called out as you left, a new unknown fear coursing through you as everything got more and more real.

By the time you reached the gates, everyone else had already taken off, leaving only Seungcheol leaning against his G wagon, waiting for you. The things Mingyu mentioned were in the passenger seat, neatly folded when you opened the door. As you tried to quickly slip them all on, Seungcheol waited, not offering to help, not even looking, just staring out at the woods. When you finally clambered in, he got in too, turning on the engine and taking off swiftly. You stared at the map on your lap - fuck, it was a long ride.

In the 2 hours that the two of you had been driving, the sun had fully risen, you had finished your breakfast and not one word that was irrelevant to the route had been exchanged. You stared out of the window, watching the trees whizz by - you had crossed much of the town houses in the outskirts and the road was getting narrower and lonelier now. It made sense why a monster would hide out here.

“How much further?” Seungcheol asked, fingers drumming the wheel.

“Until we reach the big olive tree.” You peered at the map trying to understand the images instead given you couldn't read Greek. “There we turn left.”

Seungcheol hummed, then silence descended once again.

It was a miracle you went through so much time without saying anything to the man beside you. Considering it was just the two of you and neither of you could run, it was the perfect time to talk about everything going on but you found yourself complying with Jeonghan’s instructions and keeping quiet. Perhaps because you had too much on your mind.

As nonchalant as you tried to seem, the Chimaera terrified you. It wasn't because it was apparently a big scary monster but because it was seeking you. You were no idiot - you knew that if a creature that powerful wanted to kill you, it could have at many instances when you were being particularly reckless. This one definitely wanted something else from you and the thought of that was more terrifying. What could a monster possibly need from you?

You didn't know. And maybe like most things in your life you wouldn't get to know. Like you didn't get to meet Hestia, or didn't understand why your powers were so different, or didn't know how to cope with the fact that you could never be a mother. It was perhaps just another thing to add to this never ending list.

“Y/n.” Seungcheol's hand on your arm pulled you out of your thoughts. “How many times do I have to ask? Is that the tree?”

You glanced at it and then back at the map and nodded. “Yeah, sorry, that's the one.”

Shifting gears Seungcheol slowed down, turning left like you told him to but to both of your surprise, the road ahead led straight into a forest that was submerged in darkness despite it being so early in the day. Confused, Seungcheol turned on the headlights as he drove ahead but the moment the car moved ahead, the lights turned off.

Frowning, he tried again, only to receive the same result - the lights kept turning off.

Annoyed, he stopped the vehicle, grabbing a rather large lighter from the dashboard and stepped out, opening up the hood. Unbuckling your belt, you followed him.

“Sit inside Y/n.”

“How are you supposed to hold the lighter and fix this thing?” You grabbed the light from him and held it over the engine. “Is there a problem?”

Seungcheol peered at the machinery, frowning. “I don't think so. I don't know why…..” He trailed off like a realisation hit him. “Did you say the tree we crossed was an olive tree?”

“I think it was?” You held out the map for Seungcheol to see. “I can't read Greek.”

“That’s not an olive tree and this isn't any ordinary forest….” He turned to you, both your faces illuminated by the faint light of the fire. “This is the Forest of Nyx, the Goddess of the Night.”

“Is that why the lights won't work?” You whispered, feeling a chill run down your body. “Is that why it's so dark?”

“It's always night at her realm. No light, no Gods, no eyes are allowed here.” He gulped as though he suddenly realised the proximity between the two of you. “No one can see us here.”

You frowned not understanding what he meant when he shut the hood, the headlights surprisingly flaring up again. Before you could even process what was going on, he pulled you up against him, the lighter dropping from your hands due to the sheer force as your body pressed against his.

“Cheol-”

“No one can see us Y/n.” He whispered, eyes drifting to your lips. “No one.”

And in a flash, his mouth was on yours - hot, wanting and desperate.

You gripped his arms, taken aback by the suddenness but when he pulled you closer like he didn't even want air between the two of you, you ran your hands up his chest and neck, threading them into his thick hair. Taking that as a sign of approval, he moved his hands down, briefly squeezing your ass before catching hold of your thighs and lifting you with unsurprising ease, wrapping your legs around his waist. You moaned when you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, his hands annoyed by all the armour as though they wanted to rip it out.

It was only when you felt breathless and pulled back that he finally let you go. Looking up at you equally breathless, eyes almost pleading, the words that you'd been dying to hear left his mouth at last.

“Fuck I've wanted this for so long.” He groaned. “I wanted you for so long Y/n, please….”

You gulped, stiffening when you understood what he was begging for.

Choi Seungcheol wanted to fuck you.

A/n - aaaaand scene hehe

If you've managed to make it till the end, congratulations, this was a long one, I'm sorry buttttt Cheol enthusiasts (aka everyone) y'all are in for a ride next chapter hehe, stay tuned!

And if you enjoyed reading, please don't forget to leave feedback in the comments or tags - we've got lots of chapters to go and hearing thoughts really helps <3

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puckinghischier · 1 day ago

Text

Dogtooth

jack hughes x fem!reader

WARNING - SMUT!!! minors, DNI. 18+. oral!female receiving, face riding

summary: just a lil jack thot inspired by the song dogtooth by tyler, the creator

notes: this is just a repost of the little jack blurb i posted last night, i just wanted to reformat it so it’d fit in my masterlist better. but!! this is probably my favorite jack thing i’ve ever written and i’m obsessed with this song so, hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[2.3k]

dogtooth by tyler, the creator?? that song is soooooo jack coded.

it’s the right kind of cocky but also the perfect amount of loving his woman, which is exactly how i picture jack to be in a relationship.

he’s a pretty private guy, not enjoying being in the media too much and revealing a ton about his personal life. he hates media because he doesn’t like the feeling of people assuming they know everything about him. but his girl? she knows everything about this man and he basks in the fact she knows him better than anyone else.

and when he’s down for someone? oh he’s down baddddd. i mean, pining level shit. he always wants to be around her. always calling her. always texting her. he just wants her attention 24/7, no matter what he has to do to get it.

he loves to pleasure his girl. and that’s it, really. he loves any second he can spend making her feel good, any way she wants. he doesn’t even care about the reciprocation (though he does love when she returns the favor) because knowing he’s the one to satisfy her needs is enough to put him on cloud nine all by itself.

and the second jack hears this song for the first time? oh he’s got big plans for it. (and you)

you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting on jack to get home from a mid-day skate. he sent you a text telling you he was leaving the rink around thirty minutes ago, expecting him to walk through the door any second.

no sooner than the thought entered your mind, you heard the lock click, signaling his arrival. calling out a greeting, you’re met with silence. you turn your body to see why he’s ignoring you, noticing the small white ear buds stuck in each ear.

he sets his bag down at the door, no doubt filled with his sweat soiled clothes he wants you to wash. waiting on him to look up and acknowledge you, you lay your head on the plush cushions resting against the back of the couch. you watch him, never missing an opportunity to admire how pretty he is.

finally, he looks up and meets your gaze, smiling at your love-filled eyes. he pops one headphone out while walking towards you, rolling it around in his hand.

“hey, sweets,” he leans down to place a small kiss on your waiting lips.

you savor the taste of his lips, always loving their soft feel.

“tried to say hi when you walked in, but guess you couldn’t hear me,” you gesture to the one earbud still lodged in one of his ears.

he gives you a small, apologetic look. “sorry, found a new song i really like. think you will too, actually. made me think about you.”

grabbing his phone from his pocket with his free hand, the one that’s holding the small bluetooth device brushes your hair away from your own ear, comfortably resting the earbud there.

“here’s the thing though….i want you to ride my face while we listen,” he just casually tells you, not even looking up at your face, still fiddling with his phone.

you perk up, surprised at his casualness. “i- what?”

“you heard me, before i press play i want you to ride my face.”

said face in question is dead serious, not an ounce of mischief to be found.

“you…literally just walked through the front door. what happened to asking each other about our days? or discussing what we’re gonna eat for dinner?” you ask him, not knowing how to react to the sudden proposal.

he rolls his eyes playfully. “is this your way of telling me you don’t want to? because you don’t have to. just think it’d really add to the experience, s’all” he shrugs.

you still don’t know how to react to the pure casualness of it all. by the way he’s acting you’d think he’s suggesting watching a movie, not having you ride his face in the middle of the living room.

“i didn’t say i didn’t want to. it’s just a little wild for that to be one of the first things out of your mouth when you get home.”

jack snickers at your words, walking around the large sectional to occupy the spot next to you.

“not really. not for me, at least. been thinking about it all day,” he plops down beside of you, making himself comfortable.

his words shoot excitement down to your core. he’s been thinking about it all day?

before you can think of a response, you feel shuffling next to you on the plush couch. you look over to see jack laying flat on his back, head only slightly raised to look over at you expectantly.

“so, you gonna get rid of those shorts or what?” he asks, referencing your thin, cotton pajama bottoms.

“i swear to god, if i wasn’t turned on right now i’d slap you,” you grumble, standing and removing all clothing below your waist.

jack laughs a real, out loud, laugh this time, prideful in the fact that you’ve never really been able to (or wanted to) resist any of his offers.

he burrows his body further into the couch, making sure he’s in the middle of the large surface, ensuring there’s room for your knees to rest on either side of his head.

you climb to hover over his body, looking down at his hungry eyes that are glued to your bare pussy, following every movement of your body from that landmark.

“shirt off or on?” you ask him, sitting on his toned abdomen.

“off. wanna be able to play with your boobs, please,” he flicks his eyes up to your face, an innocent smile on his own as he bats his eyelashes.

“of course you do,” you remove your (his) t-shirt from your body, now completely bare as you sit on top of him.

“swear they get bigger every time i see them,” he says in awe, bringing a hand up to massage one of your full breasts. you moan as he kneads the flesh, stomach turning flips in anticipation of what’s about to take place.

“gonna press play so we can get started or you just gonna play with my tits all night?” you huff out, loving the feeling but growing needier by the second.

it takes jack a second to register what you’re saying, too lost in the feeling of the heavy skin in his hand.

“oh! yeah, almost forgot,” he reaches up to the back of the couch where he left his phone, picking it up long enough to press play.

you scoot yourself farther up his body, resting your eager core right above his chin. all you’d have to do is relax your thighs the slightest amount to make contact with his mouth.

suddenly you hear a smooth beat ring out in one ear, assuming jack’s hearing the same.

the second you hear the lyrics “she could ride my face i don’t want nothing in return” pour out of the earbud, jack inched his face up, licking a long, deep stripe through your folds.

you allow yourself to relax, sliding your slick pussy back and forth gently, not wanting to rush.

jack’s nose brushes your clit with every movement. you sigh at the feeling, not realizing how much you needed the friction until now.

the melody in your ear continues, but none of the lyrics are registering anymore. the feeling of jack’s tongue working through you takes every ounce of your attention.

“god, fuck! jack, best idea ever,” you moan out, picking up your pace slightly.

jack groans, letting his tongue still for a moment, allowing you to work yourself over it as you please.

fighting through the bliss radiating throughout your body, you try to focus on the lyrics at least a little bit. the chorus starts repeating, but the lyrics that follow make your head fuzzy in the best way.

“she could ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, except for some her time and all her love, that’s my concern” is what you focus on, the words squeezing your heart and your cunt.

jack smirks into your pussy when he hears you moan, knowing exactly which lyrics elicited the reaction from your body. you’ve always been the type to get off on the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear while he fucks into you, so he knew that line in particular would be especially helpful while his mouth is otherwise occupied.

your pace increases again as the song continues on, already halfway to your release.

jack brings his hands up to hold you still, your hole mere centimeters from his waiting tongue. he guides you to lower yourself onto the muscle, encouraging a slight bobbing motion of your body.

with every depression of your cunt onto his tongue, your clit bumps onto the tip of his nose. the pressure is a delicious form of teasing, the sensation gone nearly as soon as it’s felt each time.

“please, touch me. need you to touch me, jack. so so close,” you pant out, feeling the familiar swirl of your climax forming already.

jack grunts in response, the vibrations sending waves all throughout your body and you’re convinced you can feel it in your toes.

his hands leave your hips, traveling up your body until they find your sensitive buds, pinching and playing with each pink, taut nipple.

you jolt a bit, the motion causing your clit to slam against his nose this time. you cry out at all of the various sensations all at once. full with his tongue, rough hands on your tits, and round nose scraping against your clit.

the pure stimulation of it all forces your orgasm out of you, slamming into your body with the force of a train.

“fuck!” you scream, quickly shooting a hand out to grip the back of the couch, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on jack’s face completely.

you can barely hear the words “she can ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, and will i ever fall in love again? i can’t confirm,” ring through your ear, the soundtrack to your release, literally.

jack continues to work his tongue in and out of your hole while you shake and convulse above him, having to chase your entrance as you move. he continues to knead your sensitive breasts, each squeeze sending small volts through your already spent nerves.

he can feel your release dripping onto his cheeks, chin, and nose. he tries to lap up as much as he can, not wanting to miss a drop of your liquid pleasure.

your taste alone was enough to form the wet spot on his grey sweats, not embarrassed in the slightest he’s literally leaking from how turned on he is. but when he looks up at you above him, skin damp and eyes half rolled into the back of your head, mixed with the feeling of your body tightening around his tongue so harshly he can’t even pull it out, he blows his load right then and there.

he can feel the last flutters of your walls around his tongue, not stopping his movements until you pull back, having half a mind to keep going and work another orgasm out of your sensitive state. he moans through his own unprompted release, the only thing keeping him from following his sudden impulse to overstimulate you.

once the tired muscles in your thighs stop shaking, and your breath evens out, you can hear the fading of the music in your ear, signaling the end of the song. you push up slightly on your knees, detaching yourself from jack’s mouth as he chases your now swollen cunt, a small whine escaping him at the action.

“jack…the song’s over,” you manage the words somehow, in awe that he made you come in only a single song’s length.

“i can hit replay,” he rushes out, already reaching to grab his phone again.

you squeak out a slightly panicked “no,” while shaking your head, worried if he started again you might actually explode. you let yourself relax fully, scooting back so you can rest yourself on his lower abdomen once again, but the feeling of something wet stops you.

jerking back up, you turn and look down, spotting the large, wet stain on his sweatpants. you can’t stop staring at it, wondering if you’re really looking at what you think you’re looking at.

“jack…did you…” you trail off, turning back around to look at him.

he smirks as he leans himself up on his elbows. “sure did, sweets. you have no clue how much i enjoyed that.”

you laugh at his pride filled face. “pretty sure i do, seeing as i just sat on the evidence.”

he simply shrugs, patting your bare ass lightly to signal you to stand. you swing your legs over his body, standing and bending over to pick up your discarded underwear and slide it back up your legs.

“so….about that dinner conversation,” you ask him as he stands, suddenly way hungrier than you were when he first got home.

it’s his turn to laugh at you, walking over and removing the now silent earbud from your ear.

“whatever you want is fine with me. i already ate,” he gives you a kiss on the forehead then turns to walk towards the bedroom.

“oh…not even right, you dick,” you huff, following it with telling him you’re ordering his least favorite take out, a punishment for his sass.

making your way to the kitchen to dig through the different take out menus, you hear jack shout your name once again.

“i was thinking, how do you feel about that being our wedding song?” he asks, poking his now shirtless, but clean sweats clad, figure out of the bedroom door.

“jack!” you shout, scolding him as his loud cackle rings out around you, causing your own amused smile to break out on your face.

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moonstruckme · 13 hours ago

Note

Hi!! I had surgery a few weeks ago and I’m definitely hitting a wall mentally. I’ve been so sad with recovery and I’m so exhausted and cranky (unfortunately). I was wondering if you could write an emt!marauders or poly!marauders w reader going through that?? Thank you! Your writing has been a huge comfort for me during this time 🩷

Hi lovely! I realize it's been a while since you sent this so I hope you're feeling much much better now! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: post-op recovery, shoulder injury

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 727 words

James enters the bedroom to witness three stages of wakefulness. There’s Remus where he left him, fluffy haired and squinty eyed scrolling through his phone. One of Remus’ hands is toying idly with the ends of Sirius’ hair, who’s still dead asleep next to him, on his stomach with his face pushing into the pillow (James has never been able to figure out how he can breathe like that). Then there’s you, just sitting up with a groan and a sour look on your face. His angel.

“Here, love.” James sets the coffee he’d brought for Remus on the nightstand, making sure the handle is facing him. Remus’ thanks is croaky with drowsiness, his smile gentle. James says to you, “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Hard,” you mumble. You shrug your one shoulder experimentally, and grimace. “Too hard.”

Remus makes a sympathetic sound, looking at you over the rim of his mug. “Did you sleep on it wrong?”

“No.” You sound a tad defensive. “I was on my back all night.”

Remus hums. “This is what happens when you don’t do your stretches at night, dovey.”

You scowl. James ruffles Remus’ hair. “Be nice,” he chides. “You could do some stretching now, angel.”

Sirius makes a disgruntled sleepy sound, rolling onto his side to wrap his arms around your waist. He settles his head contentedly on the plushness of your thigh. “Everyone shut up,” he grumbles. “And stop getting up.”

“We’re not getting up,” James placates him. “She’s only doing her stretches.”

“But it hurts,” you whine.

“That’s why you do your stretches, sweetheart.” Remus gives you a look.

James can feel you getting irritated. You’ve been recovering from your surgery for weeks now, and you’re growing exhausted not only with all the things you can’t do with your shoulder but also all the things you have to do to build back its strength and mobility. He goes to the dresser as you slump forward into your own lap, hapless.

“Come on,” he laughs, tossing you your towel. “You can start with the towel one first. That one’s fit.”

You look up at James. “It is not.”

“Y’always look good, babe,” Sirius mumbles into your thigh.

“See? And extra good when you stretch your arms like that.”

“He’s dead to the world.” You roll your eyes, though you’re petting Sirius’ hair fondly. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Still, you sigh and pick up the towel when Remus nudges it towards you pointedly, rolling your neck in preparation. James feels a bit of warmth come to his face (he was only partly joking about how attractive you are when you stretch).

It’s a bit difficult for you at first, clearly, the result of growing a bit lax about your stretches over the past few days. James can see Remus’ lips press together like he’s physically restraining himself from commenting on it. A low whine builds in your throat.

“There you go,” says Sirius in a salacious tone. James is beginning to suspect he’s more awake than he’s letting on. “Tell us how you really feel, sweetheart.”

“This is so pointless,” you grumble. “It’s too lame to do anything.”

“Don’t say that,” James chides you. It’s not his intention to make you feel like you can’t vent to them, but James is firmly of the belief that ceasing negative talk will eventually lead to an abatement of negative thoughts. “It’s working, you just need to give it time. You’re tons better than you were a couple of weeks ago, right?”

“If you mean I can pick up an empty soda can,” you say drily, “then yes.”

“That is what I mean. Empty soda cans are a big step.”

“It’s a process,” Remus tells you in a more placating tone. “You can’t expect to be all the way better overnight. Especially not if you’re not doing your stretches.”

You don’t miss the judgment threaded through that last bit, your expression turning sour again. Sirius appears to sense this without opening his eyes. He hugs you around the middle, smearing a kiss over your thigh.

“You’ll get there, lovie,” says James. “And hey, if it’ll help, I can sit with you while you do your stretches every day. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

Remus snorts, and Sirius mumbles something into your skin that sounds like “I’ll bet you wouldn’t.”

292 notes · View notes

whatifitis · 15 hours ago

Text

♡ I See You - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando is under immense stress due to his career and he can't drag down his love with him. Will their relationship survive a horror movie?

Author's Note: This was requested and as soon as I saw it, I was excited to start it and I had so many ideas for this so I hope y'all enjoy it!

WC: 6k+ with some instagram posts

CW: poor mental health, a bit of angst, a kiss here and there, happy ending

-=+=-

479,271 likes

f1 Just one lap could’ve made all the difference for Lando’s race 😣

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User32 Lando needs to stop thinking he ‘should’ve won’ it’s starting to seem a little entitled.. The two ahead of him have 165 wins between them

User33 They completely ruined Oscar’s race

User34 the only thing he brings to McLaren and F1 is shame

User35 Geez people in the comments are so quick to say hateful things but don’t think about how their words hurt, lando is pressuring himself into doing good and yall just wanna hate on him at any chance you get

-=+=-

Liked by bestieusername and others

f1gossip sources close to the couple are saying that Lando Norris and Y/n L/n have split after just 7 months together

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User22 she was just one of the girls he’ll date for like a summer then leave when he’s bored. Can’t wait to see who the next slut is

User67 she lost color in her face since she’s been with him, glad she finally knows her worth

User54 she looked so bored recently, and i mean it’s her right since he practically love bombed her

-=+=-

“I can’t break you when I’m breaking.” - was all you heard before everything went silent.

You and Lando had been together for about 7 months, not all of which was rainbows and daisies.

When you first met, it was like stepping into the sun again after having spent so long in the dark. You had your fair share of heartaches before Lando. It was hard for you to give in to him at first, but after a few weeks, you gave in and you’re grateful for giving not only him, but yourself a chance.

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating him. You knew he was a driver in F1 and that his fanbase could be quite protective of him. You also were aware of his crazy schedule with the races and meetings and training. Lando also told you about how he and his ex had to break up due to the invasion of privacy that was experienced, and how his ex simply couldn’t do it anymore, which is more than understandable. But even with every warning he gave you, you still stayed.

These past few weeks have been chaotic though. Lando is a strong contender for the WDC this year against Max and there’s pressure and eyes all around him. You’ve watched as the media berated him for weeks and weeks, never letting up. Everyone has high expectations of him and it’s slowly destroying him, even if he can’t see it yet.

You won’t lie, it has indeed had an impact on your guys’ relationship. Not only is distance and time difference straining you two, but the constant analysis and comments from the media have taken a toll.

It was obvious to you that Lando would be gone for most weeks out of the year, but now, even when he is home, he’s not fully there. It’s like he’s a ghost in his own home, his own body.

“You’re not breaking me” - you tell him. But you both know you’re lying. As much as you may love him, his distance has been something that has destroyed you. You started to wonder what you were doing wrong, how could you fix this?

“I am, and it’s hurting me so much that I’m doing this to you when you don’t deserve all this shit. You deserve so much more. You deserve all the good things in life, like seeing your partner for more than a week, going to the grocery store without being stalked by fans, having someone who can be there for you, someone who won’t drag you down.” he says, tears streaming down his face. His hands are shaking at the thought of losing you, but he knows he loves you too much to let you down. He’s completely broken now. His heart aches and sinks every time he thinks about how you’re being treated. He doesn’t want to be the person who takes your sparkle, who makes you feel less of a person.

“You’re not. I’m fine. We’re fine, love. I can handle it, all the shit that’s getting thrown at us. We can survive this horror movie.” you try to convince him… convince yourself, as tears are now streaming down your face as well.

“We can’t. I’m not the way I was, I’m not the same person I was when we met.” you watch as he takes a shaky breath in, trying to compose himself, “All I ever wanted was to drive and race in Formula 1. But now that I have it, it doesn’t feel enough. As soon as I joined, so much pressure was put on me to be the best. When I started, the car was shit, so I helped make it better, and I did. I feel like all I’m doing is trying and trying to please everyone and to be who they want me to be, but it’s so hard. And this isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to race and have fun, not drive myself to the point of destruction. I don’t want to be the machine that the team, media, and fans want me, and expect me to be. I feel like I’m giving my all to the team and to the sport but it’s not enough and it’ll never be enough. I feel like I’m stuck and I can’t get out no matter what I do. The one thing I wanted all my life, and now it’s mine. But it feels like I’m theirs.” he lets out an ironic laugh.

You slowly walk to him, moving to hold his hands in yours. Without missing a beat, one of your hands gently lifts his chin, making his eyes connect with yours.

“They’re feeding you to the wolves and it’s unfair. They cheer your name until the lights go out, then they throw you to the side and disregard you till the next time they need you. They’re not fair to you and it’s draining you. You have a look that I can’t recognize. You used to love this sport with all your heart but now it’s the thing that’s killing you.”

“But I need to keep going. I need to prove that I can be what they want. I need to prove that I’m not just some spoiled, ignorant kid who paid his way to this place. I need to show that I earned my right to be here and to have this seat.” he tries to explain.

“I understand that, Lan. But we need to find a better way to handle all this. It’s clearly taking a toll on you and your health. It’s been a long year. You’re constantly watched and analyzed, with people documenting your every move to create sickening plots for their stories of you, of us. They expect so much, so you’re expected to follow, but that’s not how it’s supposed to work.” He pulls back from you, removing his hands from yours and taking steps back. You watch as he begins to pace the room, shaking his head as he speaks.

“To know me is to hate me, and to hate what I’ve become. It’s to watch me fail over and over again, and I can’t keep doing this to you. I can’t let you hold my hand in yours anymore.” he says as he stops in front of you, trying his best to refrain from spilling more tears but it’s merely impossible. His biggest fear is coming into fruition, he’s losing you. He’s letting you go. He wanted to let you out of this mess before it was too far gone for you to come back to life. You gave him all of your best self and your endless empathy.

“What are you saying, Lan?” you barely let out as a whisper, afraid of the answer.

“I’m letting you go. I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole but I have to do this. All this shit is just gonna hurt you more. You can’t do this to yourself. It’s killing me to know I’m just bringing you down with me.” he practically pleads.

“I stay because I want to, not because I feel forced to or like I have to. I do it because I love you.” your voice cracks with the last bit.

“I’m sorry for all this. I care about you a lot and I hope everything goes well. I hope you get everything you could ever want. I’m sorry for all the mess.”

“Don’t be sorry. You are worth all of the shit. But can you please let me stay?” you beg through tears.

His lips are quivering, tear stains paint his face as he breaks himself in two. Cause truthfully, you will always hold a part of him. Through all the obstacles and shit, you stuck by him.

“Goodbye, y/n.” is all he says before he turns his back on you, walking out the door.

He didn’t even wait for your response, leaving as soon as he could because he knew if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t have followed through with the breakup.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, in the middle of your living room. You had to watch the person you thought you would marry, walk out the door. You thought he was your forever. You shared your dreams with each other, planned out the house you two would grow old in. The house where you would have rocking chairs on the front porch where the two of you would watch the neighborhood kids run by, yelling at them to stay off the lawn. What dreams those were, dreams that would remain just that, dreams.

For a while after the breakup, all you did was lie in bed either sleeping the days away or doom scrolling on social media. It got so bad that your roommate/best friend had to physically drag you out of bed after a week of letting you rot in it.

The first day of what your best friend liked to call “post breakup, glow up”, you guys decided to just have a self care day where you took it easy and ordered in food and did face masks while coloring in some books.

It was fun and a nice distraction until your phone dinged. The look on your face scared your best friend so she looked over your shoulder to see who it was. Lando’s name was displayed along with a message, “Hey, how you been?”.

Was this how exes interacted after a breakup? Typically after the breakups you’ve experienced, there was no contact. What’s Lando up to? You knew he didn’t keep in contact with any of his exes after their break ups, so why was he texting you?

When you snap back to reality, your friend is giving you a concerned look, wanting to know what was going through your head so she could help in the best way possible.

“Should I text him back?” You asked.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, babe. He still hurt you towards the end of the relationship, although not intentionally, but it still fucked you up a bit. I don’t want you to lose the progress you’ve made.”

“Yeah, I understand. I won’t text him back then.” You tell her as you turn off your phone and throw it to the side, picking up your marker and starting coloring again.

You lied. You ended up texting him back later that night once you were back in bed, ready to end the night with what hopefully would be a decent sleep.

You and Lando exchanged a few texts, mainly just catching up and seeing how the other was. You weren’t gonna lie, it felt nice to talk to him again. But what was this gonna lead to? Hopefully getting back together, but what are the odds?

The occasional text conversations took place over the course of a few weeks. Lando knew he shouldn’t have been texting you, but he couldn’t help himself. The weeks following the break up, he went back and forth on whether he regretted it or not. He wondered if it was the best thing to do.

Every day, he saw you in everything he saw or did. When he goes to get coffee, he swears he can still hear you laughing at the mustache of foam that would appear on his face after his first sip of coffee.

When he’s outside in the park for a run, he’s reminded of you when he sees the rabbits hiding in the bushes. You always used to squeal out of joy and cuteness from the rabbits, even if you’d already seen them about 20 times prior.

Every song, every film, every color reminded him of you. He thought about you every single day, wondering what you were doing and how you were. He even went as far as stalking your Spotify profile. He knew you made playlists for everything and he would watch your listening activity to see what mood you were in.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw you listening to Taylor Swift and Gracie Abrams for hours on end. Those two were your go to sad girls. But he was surprised when none of the songs were about how shit the guy was. All the songs you were listening to were about regretting breakups and just missing someone.

The night he texted you for the first time since the breakup, he had been gaming with Max and a few of his other friends, trying to take his mind off things.

He didn't know what he texted you, he just did. He didn’t even have a plan for what he wanted to say. It turned out all right in the end though. You guys had a peaceful conversation and shared a laugh or two, for which he was grateful.

Maybe you guys could remain friends?

-=+=-

Liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and others

y/n_l/n i’m on my knees at the altar, baby

Asking God to wash you from my soul

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User4 he’s a waste of running mascara, you’re on to greater things

alexandrasaintmeux the most beautiful girl in the world

User97 ummm, what’s lando doing in the likes?! Didn’t they break up…

User23 she was a fool for thinking she could be enough for him

User10 lando leave the poor girl alone, you’ve done enough damage

-=+=-

Everytime he texted you, you came back. He’d ask to try again and you’d say yes. You’d come back to his place and spend nights there, only for him to break things off again. He keeps saying he can fix it and do better. But then he sends you on your own again. He keeps telling you how much he loves you, only to tell you he’s not good enough for you and that you should break up, again.

For two months, the two of you went back and forth. You would break up one week then get back together the next. It felt like a game that you kept losing and you were tired of it.

It felt like you were always taking one step forward and two steps back. Now you know, none of this is fair to you. You keep trying to give him your all, trying to be there for him when he needs it but he still doesn’t change.

You know you’re not falling out of love for him. But you think you have to fully let him go now. Do what he did to you to protect you, but actually block him out after. Instead of stringing him along like he did to you.

It’s a week before the Belgium GP so it’s now or never.

You asked Lando to meet you in your shared hotel room as the Hungarian GP just ended earlier. He’d gotten P2 which is amazing. But he still wasn’t entirely happy with his performance as he thinks he could’ve done better. The team thinks he should’ve gotten P1 and that it would’ve helped gain more points for the championship.

You would’ve preferred to pick a better time to do this, but there is no other time, at least anytime soon. But you don’t want to be stuck here forever, in this loop of false hope.

When Lando gets back to your shared room, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, picking at the skin on your fingers.

“Hey, stop doing that. It’s not good for you.” He gives you a smile as he takes off his shoes and meets you in the bed. As he sits next to you, he lands a kiss on the top of your head and then a kiss on your cheek before finally connecting your lips with his in a sweet, warm kiss.

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something? What’s up? Everything alright?” He asks, a bit of concern laces his words.

You take a deep breath and sit up straight, trying to gain the courage to follow through with your plan.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You say. Lando’s heart drops at your words.

“What’d you mean?” He stutters a bit.

It takes everything in you to look him in the eye as you say “I’m breaking up with you, for good.”

“Oh.” Is all that comes out of his mouth. He’s turned his body forward, staring blankly at the wall as he processes this.

“I’m sorry, Lando. But it’s not fair to either of us. We keep stringing each other along. Hoping for something that’ll never happen. I’m tired. It feels like I’m the only one fighting for us.”

Lando suddenly sucks in a breath of air, furrowing his eyebrows and turning his body to you before telling you “no”

“No? Lando, what do you mean no?”

“No, we’re not breaking up again.”

“You can’t just say no. I’m- I’m making this decision for the both of us. For our best interest, we have to break up.”

“No, I’m not having it. I’m not doing it. It’s you and me til the end.”

“Lando, please can we ju-“

“Nope.”

You sit there dumbfounded at what’s happening. Is he refusing a breakup like it’s a piece of fish?

You sit there and stare at him for a hot minute before crossing your arms and asking “why?”

“Cause”, is all he says before he stands up and goes to take a shower.

Ain’t no way.

You’re so confused and amazed at what just happened. He really just denied a breakup.

As Lando took his shower, you took this time to process what happened and how to go about this conversation again once he comes back.

After about 15 minutes, Lando leaves the bathroom in fresh clothes and stands in front of you, “what’d you want for dinner?”

“Did you disregard my breakup speech?” You stand and ask.

“Yes. Now, where’s the room service menu?” He asks as he pads around the room, genuinely looking for the room service menu.

You bring your hands to your face and roughly rub your eyes to try and approach this correctly.

“Lando, stop thinking about the menu for 5 seconds and look at me.”

He’s stopped dead in his tracks and looks at you innocently.

This guy.

His bottom lip begins to quiver and his eyes become glossed with tears.

With a bit of rasp in his voice he tells you “We’re not breaking up. I can’t lose you again, I won’t do it. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had and pushing you away was awful. I missed your laugh, I missed your jokes, I missed your loose hairs all around the flat, I missed your snoring when I tried to sleep, I missed you. Please don’t go again.”

Tears are streaming down his face as he begs you to stay.

“Lando, we can’t keep doing the same shit over and over again. We break up one week then get back together the next. You tell me you’ll do better and you’ll fix things but nothing changes. You’re still under immense stress and letting people walk all over you. I don’t know how we can survive this anymore if you don’t try to change that.”

You start to wonder if breaking up really is the best solution. You would still be sad about losing him and you would still constantly worry about him. He would still be stuck in this toxic place where everyone puts all their expectations on him. Everyone would still harass him and analyze his every move. What would breaking up really fix?

“Please. I’m standing here trying to be honest. We’re a thousand miles away from the day that we started, and I’m still in love with you. I just wanna forget everything that’s come and gone cause I hate not being with you. The stars don’t shine as bright when you’re not here.”

Slowly, you walk up to him, reaching for the sides of his face and using your thumbs to wipe away some of his tears. He instinctively moves his hands to your hips, holding you as tight as he can, as if you’re water in his hands. You look him in the eyes and realize you love him too much to let him go. You two love each other too much to leave it like this.

“Hey,” you say softly, “why don’t we do this? The Belgian GP is next week, right? You’ll go do that and I’ll go home for a bit. After the Belgian GP, I’ll meet you in Glastonbury, yeah? We’ll spend your break there and we’ll try and sort out whatever’s going on up here?” You ask as you gently tap the side of his head.

All he can do is smile, grateful for you and your patience with his shit. He nods his head yes before pulling you closer and holding you tight, burying his face into your neck.

With a deep breath, you feel Lando relax in your arms.

“Thank you.” He whispers in your neck. He can’t believe he’s able to keep someone as special as you in his life, even with the war in his head.

“We’ll be alright. We’re okay”, you don’t say anything else, just holding him closer, knowing it’s enough for him right now. Maybe you two could try to go back where you started.

Lando booked a flight from Belgium to go back to his hometown almost immediately after the race. He just couldn’t bear being away from you for so long, especially after all the shit you guys have been through, especially after all the shit he put you through.

You decided that since he’ll be landing quite late, the two of you would spend the night watching movies and eating some home cooked food. The beginning of the healing journey could start tomorrow.

When he landed at the airport, he was greeted by you with a massive sign that said “Lando Norris - STD clinic emergency shuttle”.

The amount of laughs that the sign got was a joy to you. Especially the laugh Lando had let out upon reading the sign. He knew you were gonna pull some shit like this, although he was surprised you didn’t wear scrubs to add to the bit.

With a big warm hug, Lando finally felt like he could start to relax and let go, at least until the next race.

The two of you made your way to your car, then headed back to a secluded airbnb that you had rented for the next few weeks. Although the two of you were more than welcome to stay with Lando’s family, the pair of you thought it would be best if Lando had a place with some real peace and quiet to be able to sort through his mind.

During the drive to the airbnb, you put on a playlist that you had made for drives with Lando at the beginning of your relationship. It had been a while since you’d played it, so it was a pleasant surprise for him when he realized what playlist was playing after a few songs.

“I forgot about this playlist. Missed it." He gives a soft smile. The one he used to have before all the chaos had been inflicted. You can tell this little break will definitely bring back at least a small piece of your Lando.

“I did too. Found it the other day when I was clearing my playlists. I added a few more songs as well. I know we usually pick the songs for this playlist together but I thought it’d be nice. Hope you don’t mind.” you tell him, wondering if maybe he’d be upset that you messed with the playlist without him.

“Nah. I like it. Like a bit of a surprise for me.” he says as he shrugs his shoulders. You smile as you look at him for a moment. Your boy is coming back to you, slowly but surely.

“Oh, don’t speed here. There’s always this one fucking guy sitting in a corner, ready to give anyone and everyone a ticket.” he tells you as you turn onto a certain street.

“You know every road in this county, don't you?” you tease, watching as he gets a bit shy.

“Yeah, let’s just say he may or may not love to see me coming. He used to catch me speeding all the time and he gave me too many fucking tickets.”

You just sit there and laugh at him. Of course the Formula 1 driver always gets caught speeding.

Once you pull into the driveway for the airbnb, Lando is smiling, already getting out of the car and closing his eyes, breathing in the fresh air and taking it all in. He’s excited and grateful for this break from the races. As much as he does enjoy the actual racing, all the other factors were pushing him to his breaking point. The sun was collapsing but he didn’t realize until everything came crashing down all at once.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you close the car door. He starts moving to the trunk of the car to pull out his luggage. You wait by the front of the car, watching him roll his way to you and taking your hand in his as he leads you to the door of the house.

The second you unlocked the door and opened it, Lando ran in like a kid and immediately dropped all his belongings before flopping onto the couch.

Yup, that’s my man.

“You like it? Out of all the rentals available, I thought this one was the best. It’s a bit far from everything and there’s a hiking trail not far.” you tell him, walking to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Lando is rolling on the couch as if he were a dog trying to get into a comfortable position. His head pops over the back of the couch to look at you, “Yeah, seems quite cozy. Thanks for this, darling. I know I don’t really deserve you but I’m really grateful that you’ve given me so many chances.”

“Don’t thank me, love. I love you and I want you to be okay,” his cheeks blush at your words. It’s been a while since you’ve called him ‘love’, “Put something on the tv and lie down for a bit while I prepare dinner, yeah?”

“You sure I can’t help you? I can peel a potato or something… okay maybe nothing as advanced as peeling a potato but I can boil noodles or something.” he chuckles a bit.

“Gorgeous, last time you tried to boil noodles, you burnt the water. I still don’t know how you managed that.” you couldn’t contain your laugh at the memory. It was one of your first dates with Lan and he’d wanted to make you a home cooked meal. Take out ended up being delivered.

“Yeah, alright. We’re watching Hannah Montana.” he said as he flopped his back against the couch.

When dinner was cooked, you and Lando plated the food before moving to sit on the floor in the living area, using the coffee table to eat off.

The two of you continued watching Hannah Montana until the episode where Blue Jeans became ill. Lan immediately changed the show to play the movie rather than the tv series.

“Lan, you do know Blue Jeans recovers at the end of the episode, right?”

“Yeah but he still has to go through the traumatic experience of being bitten by that snake and I just can’t. We’re gonna watch the Hannah Montana movie now and slow dance to ‘Crazier', cry to ‘Butterfly Fly Away’, and dance to ‘You Can Always Find Your Way Back Home’.” he tells you sternly. He's made up his mind and nothings gonna change that. So that’s just what you do.

When Taylor Swift appears on the screen and starts singing ‘Crazier’, Lando jumps up off the floor and leans his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to take. Once you place your hand in his, he pulls you swiftly off the floor, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck while his hands are secured on your waist. The two of you swing your bodies slowly and effortlessly to the melody that’s playing in the background.

When the lyric “you lift my feet off the ground.” Lando does exactly that. He’s gripped your waist and lifted you in the air, bringing a squeal out of you as you were not expecting that. He keeps you above him as you let out a fit of giggles. Once your feet land back on the ground, you fall into Lando, trying to catch your breath. You listen to his heartbeat and hold him tight. He really is your favorite person.

In true Lando fashion, he knows all the words to this song. As he should since he decided it was one of your songs a while ago. You watch as he sings the words to you, and you realize just how truly in love you are with the person in front of you. You would wait forever for him. He’s the closest to heaven you’ll ever be.

Once the song ends, the two of you sit back down and continue watching the movie. You were cuddled up to Lando, wrapping yourself around his arm as he rested his head on yours, occasionally leaving soft kisses.

The beginning chords of ‘Butterfly Fly Away’ play and Lando is already in tears. He’s already buried his head into your shoulder as he sobs about how emotional the song is. “He was always there for her. He tucked her in and turned out the light. He had to do it all alone!”

All you could do to comfort him was hold him close to you and rub his back. You hummed along to the song, Lando loved it when you did that. You never sang in front of him, but when you did, it was like God's greatest gift to him.

The end of the movie was near as the opening chords of ‘You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home’. The two of you were already on your feet, ready to dance and sing along. Lando had even pushed some of the furniture out so that there was more room for dancing.

With some crazy moves and a whole lot of jumping around, you and your love had the time of your lives.

Lando is pointing at you when he sings the lines “‘Cause, when I’m feeling down, and I’m all alone, whoa, oh. I’ve always got a place where I can go.” singing completely off key but who cares, he’s having fun, and so are you.

When the song comes to an end, you’re in Lando’s arms, trying to catch your breath again. But it feels impossible when everytime you look at him, he takes your breath away. The most beautiful man ever is yours? Crazy, really.

You stay in his arms for a moment, looking into those eyes that looked like sunlight was filtering through leaves.

“Home.” he breaks the silence, smiling down at you wholeheartedly. He cocks his head to the side before continuing, “You’re my home.”

It took everything in you not to break down into a puddle of tears at that moment.

Instead, you bring your lips to his, connecting them in a sweet, soft exchange.

After putting the furniture back in place and cleaning the dishes from dinner, you lead Lando to the room you’ll be sharing during this little vacation.

After a quick shower, Lando meets you on the bed, almost collapsing onto it due to the exhaustion he’s been in.

There’s no need to exchange any words at this moment. You just pull Lando into you, watching as he rests his head on your chest and wraps his arm around your waist. You scratch the back of his neck, messing with his curls a bit as your other hand draws patterns on his bare back.

After a minute, you feel Lan relax into you, watching as his breathing becomes shallow and steady. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and you're thankful. He truly does need sleep, especially for the talk you two will have in the morning.

You follow suit with Lando and fall asleep soon after him. It was the best sleep you’d had in ages.

The sun shines through the thin, cotton curtains that cover the windows. Lando’s chest is warm against your back, his arm wrapped around your torso, keeping you close to him. The steady breathing lets you know he’s still sound asleep. You check the time, reading 7:24 am. It’s still a bit early so you decide to get some breakfast prepared for when Lando wakes up.

You slowly and quietly move out of his arms, careful not to wake him as you know he won’t stay in bed if he knows you aren’t next to him. Once you’re out of bed, you brush your teeth and

make your way to the kitchen.

Breakfast is kept simple, just some overnight oats with some fruit and honey. After a few minutes of washing and cutting some fruit, you watch as Lando emerges from the bedroom, sleep lacing his features.

“I didn’t hear you leave the bed.” he frowns at you.

“Sorry, darling. I knew you were tired and I didn’t want to wake you so soon. But your timing is perfect! I've just finished preparing breakfast.” you smile gleefully, presenting him with a beautiful bowl of fruits and oats.

The smile on his face is enough to brighten the whole room. “Thanks, baby. Looks amazing, as always.”, he walks around the kitchen counter to kiss you.

Once he’s sat down and begun eating, you tell him your plan for the day, or his plan.

“I was thinking we could go on that hiking trail I told you about. Getting some fresh air and some sun could be good for you. We could also talk a bit? About everything?”

You can tell he’s a bit uncomfortable from the way he stiffens when you mention wanting to talk. He was never really one for talking about himself and the things he’s struggling with. He much prefers listening but he knows he has to let you in a bit.

Without looking up at you, he responds, “Yeah. Sounds good.” continuing to stuff his face with his oats.

Once you two had finished breakfast, you put on your shoes and made your way to the hiking trail.

During the beginning of your walk, you decided it would be best to get Lando to feel comfortable before jumping into the whole discussion of him and his mental health. So you begin by asking, “So, Tarkov, how have you been doing in it?”

He looks at you with genuine surprise, wondering why the fuck you’re asking about Tarkov when he knows it’s not your type of game. But, he answers anyway, “Erm, it’s turned into more shit and giggles if anything. A lot of messing with Max and them. Oh, the other day I stabbed Max’s character in the leg cause he stabbed my foot. And then I stabbed him again but his game was glitching so he couldn’t heal. He was actively dying and couldn’t stop it so I shot his guy. Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly joyful about that. But in my defense, he would’ve died anyway. It was a mercy kill.” he laughs to himself.

After almost 45 minutes of walking, you guys stumbled upon a nice lake that was surrounded by trees. There was a shore with some large boulders so you led Lando there for a bit of a break from walking.

You two sat there for a moment before you broke the silence to try and talk to him.

“You know I love you right?” you ask him, watching him look down at his hands and start to fiddle them.

“Yeah.” he responds quietly.

“I want you to be okay, Lan. I can see you being torn apart by everyone and everything. I don’t want to watch you fall because you don’t deserve that.” “It’s hard, being me. I know I should be happy for everything that I have. I mean, I have money, a house, so many fucking cars that I don’t need, a loving family, and the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend. But, it feels like I’m drowning in everything with racing.” - he confesses, his tone is low, matching the way his reality makes him feel so small.

You scooch closer to him, taking his hand in yours, “I know it’s been hard. And you have the right to feel the way you do. You’re the person who gets the most shit right now with the media. They’re all twisting shit to fit their narrative. But you need to keep pushing back, don’t let them walk over you anymore.” “My mind is complicated. But when you’re here, next to me, it quiets a bit. I know that when I’m with you, everything is easy, like a million things can be thrown at me, but at the end of the day, if you’re here, I’ll be okay. I know I sort of broke you, someone I love so much. It’s all me, in my head. I burned us down and I’m sorry I did that to you. I don’t wanna lose you.” “You’ll never lose me, Lan. I’ll keep your hand in mine, until we’re food for the worms to eat, til our fingers decompose. This love of ours isn’t temporary. So I’m not gonna give up on us, on you.” - your hand touches the side of his face, bringing him to meet your eyes before you continue, “I’m still yours, even when you lose your mind and try breaking up with me a million times. None of this is your fault. You’re all I want.”

Tears begin to stream down his face as he leans his forehead against yours, “I just want you to know who I am, outside of the racing and the drama. I don’t want them to see me, just you, cause you’re the only one who understands me.”

You lift his chin so he can look in your eyes again as you say, “I know who you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine, and I’m never letting you go again.”

-=+=-

Liked by y/n_l/n, maxverstappen1, and others

Tagged: y/n_l/n

landonorris baby, you showed me what living is for and i dont wanna hide anymore

Thank you for everything, my love. I wouldn’t be where I am without you 🧡

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User23 now wait a min ✋ how many chapters did i miss?

User54 i told y’all they were fine! No way a couple as in love as them would ever break up

User75 alexa, play ‘that should be me’ by justin bieber 🫠 User13 omg, and the taylor lyrics 😭 she loves taylor swift and he dedicated it to her 😭😭😭😭😭

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machveil · 3 days ago

Note

You should totally do like a how to draw Konig tutorial for one of ur daily sketches

Chibi or not

But u should totally do it

I neeeeeeeeed ur process

-🦥

notes below the cut - additional notes can be found in this post where I give art tips from my experience

daily König sketch with bonus content♥️‼️post is a little late but it’s due to the info dump below haha, anyways, he’s a little nervous

hi!! thanks for requesting a little “my process” thing - super happy to do one<3

I’ll be using these pieces of him that I’ve done to go over my notes - this is just how I go about drawing him. I’d definitely recommend also going through this post linked above too for additional info because a lot of it carries over!

I think the most important thing for me when drawing König is spacing out his hood ratios. I always start out by just drawing where his eyes and eyebrows are, then I draw the cut-outs around them. after that, I start the stitched neckline - that’s usually an eye hole’s width above his actual eyes, it gives a good allusion to where his forehead would be

they aren’t hard and fast rules I follow, more like a silent guideline that can be meddled with depending on the drawing. I usually follow them because, to me, it looks the best with how I draw him. it’s flexible - same with the sleeves, sometimes they end below his eye cut-outs, sometimes I cut them short and they’re higher

I thought I’d do a step-by-step for the hood folds because just info dumping all at once sounded confusing in my head

I start by just drawing lines down from the corners of his eye cut-outs, then I loosely draw a slanted line to show some bunching of the fabric. the slanted line is usually around where his collarbone would be

best way I can describe figure 2 is drawing folds in a ‘U’ shape. the fabric is falling from his head and ‘pooling’. the ‘U’ shape adds a little depth

miscellaneous little folds around the hem. they follow the way his hood rests, slanting downwards towards the center

if anything, just study how fabric falls and bunches up! a lot of drawing is looking at reference material to figure the ‘why’s and ‘what’s - “why do the folds bunch in certain areas?”, “why is fabric gathering in that area”, “what’s causing the fabric to move like that”, etc

lastly is his body, and as we know, I’m allergic to drawing clothing (read “lazy”). I actually really recommend looking at the post I linked above for this because, in the last figure, I show the Pinterest reference of the man who inspired my König’s body shape (and went into depth on using references)

for arms, in figure 1 and 2, you’ll see me draw an oval inside the bicep and forearm - those are just to add the allusion to muscle mass. if I don’t draw those ovals, to me, it looks a little flat. in figure 3 I go over his waistline because of course I do

I always account for a prominent rib cage line because I personally like drawing a more pronounced rib cage in general. after the ribcage, there’s a slight indent at the waist before it flares back out - that ‘flare out’ is the line for the Adonis belt. again, just personal preference, but I enjoy making the curves a little dramatic so they’re more pronounced and visually appealing to me

I don’t know how helpful that was but I hope I got some information across - uuh, even though I don’t draw his tactical gear and uniform that often the advice I can give is to just look at his model haha. the only gear that gives me a headache is his helmet, but even then I just bs my way through it

for chibi König I just shrink all his proportions and draw a stupid little t-shirt for his head<3 he doesn’t need to think, he’s just a cute little fella. I draw chibi König the way I would draw a puppy, make him look cute without a thought behind those eyes

for additional reference material here’s the link for my Pinterest - I have an absurd amount of reference material for you to browse through

hopefully this was slightly helpful?? I don’t know, as long as you get something out of this I’m happy

#art #sketch #doodle #fanart #konig #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig fanart #cod #call of duty

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daphwritesworld · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 2— Into You.

a/n: hiii guys here is the second chapter of the Be My baby series!! Like before I really just want to get this out, so sorry for any spelling/grammar errors. I’ll go back and fix them all later when i’m less tired. But I think I’ll start a tag list for this series if you guys want it. Just comment below on this post if you’d like to be added so you’ll be instantly notified of chapter updates. Thank you for all the support & happy reading < 3 !!

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, talks of previous sexual encounters, brewing sexual tension, jealous!Leah, fingering (R receiving), squirting, panty sniffing, strap on fucking ( R receiving), and masturbation.

warnings: allusions to heavy dom/sub relationship, talks of injury, Leah busting her ass at practice…again, car sex, flirty!Leah deserves a warning of its own so here you go, some angst, semi-public sex, and choking

synopsis: It's your second day working at Arsenal, and you are struggling with keeping things strictly professional with Leah. Meanwhile, you have some uneasy feelings arise as problems start happening with a fellow medical staffer.

word count: 6.3k

Series Masterlist: here

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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“F-Fuck Leah!” There’s sweat running down your face as it stings your eyes, adding to the tears that are already staining your cheeks. You try to rub your face on the sheets to help, but it just makes her keep you there. A strong hand comes to rest on the back of your head as she pushes your face further into the mattress, leaning over your trembling body as she lets the strap attached to her waist sink even deeper inside of you. Her chest presses against your back as she starts speaking into your ear, “Arch this fucking back for me, again– deeper!” A loud slap rings out across the room followed by an even louder cry from you. “I know you can do better than that. You wanna cum? Then deeper,” her other hand comes to push at your back as you sink closer to the bed. She watches at first, the way your pussy presents itself fully to her. She lets a groan slip from her lips at the way it grips her cock so hard that it partially slides out, giving you some breathing room for a few seconds. She lets you have your breather, but after that she can’t help the way she starts climbing over top of you. Leah plants her feet into the mattress as she bends her body down, her hands gripping the sheets beside your head. When she slides the few inches that slipped out back in– you can’t help the pornographic moan that leaves your mouth. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the new angle giving her access to parts of your pussy that have never been touched before. She’s giving you amounts of pleasure you never knew were possible. Her hips pick up a rougher pace after she lets you adjust, a burning in your tummy forming faster and hotter than you’ve ever experienced. Her lips skim across your back as her lips find your ear, “Cum for me Y/N. I know you want to,” one of her hands reaches around to find your clit. “So be a good girl for me and cum on this co–”

Your alarm clock awakes and blasts through the room, sending you flying as you jump up from the shock. An arm scrambles to smack at the annoying device to turn it off. You sit in the newfound silence for a few moments, letting your heartbeat return to a normal rhythm as you rub the sleep from your eyes. God, you’re so tired from last night. One orgasm turned into two…and then you just couldn’t stop thinking about her. The blonde English defender consuming your every waking thought…and apparently your nightly ones, too. You rub your thighs together as you feel the uncomfortable wetness collected between them. You wonder back to your dream…Well, your memory really. It was of the last night you two spent together. Her fucking you on the bed as the patio doors were left swung open, the sunsetting across the ocean of the beach; a beautiful backdrop to the way you handled each other’s body. A gorgeous end to a magical fairytale…because that’s what Leah is: a fantasy.

You keep reminding yourself that as you get up to start your morning. You enter the bathroom and make your way to the mirror above the sink. You squint your eyes at your reflection and bring a finger up to point at it, "You will keep things strictly professional, Y/N! Keep your pussy in your pants…you slut!" You shake your head at that, rubbing your face as you let a loud groan out. "My god I've gone mad!"

The shower heats up pretty quick, so you start stripping your pajamas off. You don't have a laundry basket yet, so you decide the floor will have to do for now. You cringe at the feeling of peeling off your wet panties, sighing as you look at the ruined pair before slinging them into your pile. The water washes away your worries for a minute, letting your muscles relax as you stretch a little in the comforting space. Then like black magic, she pops up again— front and center in your mind. You try to ignore the tingling between your legs as you reach for your shampoo. You try and ignore it your whole shower routine, but you can't put it off when you're washing your body. The loofa running across your skin as images of Leah go by in your mind is enough to drive the sanest person to their breaking point…so is it really your fault when you subconsciously start rubbing your thighs together? That can be debated. But it's definitely your fault when you slip your free hand down to fuck yourself to those thoughts of her. God dammit, you really have no self control when it comes to her. Note to self: Bitch, stand up!

You finish up your shower before you brush your teeth and throw on outfit. You're getting there early today to meet with the rest of the medical staff. You'll be meeting the head Doctor, head strength & conditioning coach, head of sports of medicine & science, the sports psychologist, the other AT, and the one you're most scared to meet…the old Lead AT whose job you now have. You didn't know when you took the offer that you'd essentially be stealing someone else's job— another woman's at that. You meant to talk to Rose about it yesterday, but that plan got derailed in more ways than one. First you got lost, then your tour went on longer than maybe necessary (but Alessia is just very friendly and charming, okay! Time slipped from you both), and then well, Leah happened...again.

As you make your way to the meeting room, you feel like you're going to throw up the coffee you chugged on the way in. Your stomach is turning over everything running through your mind: will they like you, Leah, will they respect you after leaving your old team in the middle of a season, will you fit in, Leah, will Rose hate you, because you understand why she would, Leah, will the other AT under you hate you for unknowingly demoting her friend/colleague, Leah, and oh god will they all hate you for that? You think you're going to pass out as you come face to face with the door of your destination.

You can hear the rustling of conversation inside and it makes you want to run— an all too familiar feeling running through your veins. You have to take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't there. Get a fucking grip girl, you got this. So you shake out your arms, a way to "shake out the nerves" as your mentor taught you. As you go in, your nerves instantly start declining as you see the smiles on almost everyone's face as you enter. Keyword: almost. You know that must be her..Rose. You have so much you want to say to her, but you know you can't in here. Not with everyone's eyes on you two— she deserves a hell of a lot more respect than that.

So for now you do your introductions. You learn all their names, and in the small first impressions you know things will be fine. You've already clocked who you think you'll grow close with. You really like Matt and Laura, the sports psychologist and the other AT. You don't get a chance to even meet eyes with Rose, as it seems she's avoiding you like the plague…But of course you understand why. You just wish she'd at least be social with her familiar coworkers instead of sinking into herself. Like you did. Laura must notice your saddneded look placed towards the other woman, because she gives you a reassuring smile. "She'll come around, just give her a little time."

"I hope you all know I had no clue they'd give me her position when I accepted the offer. I'd never want to steal someone's job— especially with how hard we have to work to earn them," your eyes still stay on the unsmiling women across the room. She's staring down at her phone, elbow sitting on the table as her head rests on her fist.

"We all had a clue. You looked miserable every time the camera panned to you. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that you're running from something that happened there…I don't know how things were at your last club, but I know things can be different here," she's giving you such a genuine smile you can't help the tears the well up in your eyes. She continues upon seeing them, "And you don't have to talk about it until you're ready, or ever if you don't want to."

You smile hoping to reassure her that they are happy tears. "How'd you know I looked so miserable? Did you guys watch my old matches just to see the new addition's skills?" You can't help the laugh that comes out with it.

She mirrors your soft chuckles, "Uh yeah we did— sorry! That's probably a little creepy."

"No, no, it's funny really. But, uhm, yeah..I was really unhappy there. I tried to stick it out till the end of the season, but I..I just couldn't…" You trail off after that, an uneasy nervousness taking over your body as you think back to your time at Barcelona.

Laura's about to say something else when Rose finally speaks up for the first time, "I hate to break up this party, but the girls are about to start training." She says it so monotone, a flat expression matching it on her face. You snap back to reality at that— pushing the past down your throat once again. You know pretending like it never happened is destructive, but you don't care. You have a job to do here, and you can't let your emotions get in the way of that…in more ways than one. You're quickly reminded of that as you exit the room only to be meet with the sound of Leah's voice.

Dear lord— you really are going mad.

"Nice to see you found your way here alright today!" Okay now that definitely wasn't in your head. You look down the hall to your left, Alessia walking towards you as she leaves behind her teammates. They're all walking out to the field, and behind Alessia your eyes fixate on the lines leader. She's already looking at you, eyes boring into yours as she keeps walking ahead towards the exit doors.

"Eyes forward Williamson! Or you might not get back up this time," an Irish accent rings out from the group of athletes. A rupture of laughter echoes throughout the sickly white walls. It carries down to Alessia as she mimics the sounds of the girls, turning around to send a reply back, "At this rate she'll have a concussion by the end of the week. I'd put $20 on it," and a whole new roar of commotion starts then. Some girls feeling bad and saying to leave her alone, some pushing at their Captain as they can't control their laughter, and the rest of them making a group chat to solidify their bets.

You almost feel bad…almost, but seeing that red tint cover her cheeks as she swats their teasing hands away is too sweet of a sight. "I'll remember that when you're running extra laps today, McCabe!" She looks back up at you as she says it, licking her lips before her head snaps back forwards. She's gone after that, disappearing out onto the pitch as the rest of the bickering footballers follow her.

Alessia reaches you just as you snap out of your Leah induced trance, a smile reaching your face as she gives you a hug. "I left early today just incase, ended up getting a coffee from the place down the street."

"Ohh smart girl. You must be a fast learner," you two start walking as Rose and Laura go past you. A small wave coming from Laura as she turns her heard to mouth to you, "See you out there, rookie!" You send a wave back, ready to start your first full day.

Yesterday was a damn whirlwind, but today is going to be different. You and Alessia keep chatting as you quickly catch up with everyone else, falling into place as you two separate into your respective spots. You keep your eyes trained on the girls, all except one.

You are actively trying to avoid her gaze, but that doesn't stop you from feeling it burning holes into you. She's not as distracted as yesterday, or at least not as outwardly showing it. Leah's only staring holes through you when she isn't moving this time, even if it's for just a second, her head snaps in your direction. She's getting back in the zone though, comfortable with herself again.

She woke up before the sun even thought of rising to go get the dreaded CT scan you had ordered yesterday. She turned it into her coach as soon as she came out onto the field and he cleared her to play. But she can't stop thinking of you, your body, your voice, and all the possibilities of what you two could be if given the chance. She's determined to have you, to make you hers. And when Leah sets her mind to something…lord help anyone or anything that gets in her way. She's a force to be reckoned with, a fiercely confident and stubborn woman with a drive to get exactly what she wants.

She gets wrapped up as she doesn't have a moment of rest for a while, letting herself fall back into the passion of the game. Football is in her blood and keeps her heart pumping. She's known since the first time she kicked a ball that this is what she's meant to be doing. Even before it was attainable: she has always been destined for greatness. The defender doesn't break from her focus, not until she hears your unmistakable laugh from the sidelines. She looks up and scoffs under her breath at the sight before her.

Alessia had walked up to you after being pulled away to speak with her coach. She asked if you'd check her ankle, claiming that the pain was completely gone and so was the swelling. So you agreed to check her out, squatting down to examine her ankle. She'd made a dumb dad joke, unknowingly to her that those are your favorites. So here you are now, hand resting on Alessia's upper leg as you laugh out at the ridiculous 'so and so walked into a pub' joke setup.

Leah's eyes stay stuck on you now, anger filling her body as she watches you two interact. You won't even look in her direction anymore, but you'll feel up on her teammate you met one day ago? Fine. She can get hurt and gain your attention, too. The anger overrules the logic in her brain and before she knows it she's faking a fall, using all her body weight to drop and hit the ground. She lets out a groan as she bounces a little, not realizing how fast she was running when she made the split second decision. You don't notice straight away, only about a 5 second delay before a harsh voice from behind you cuts in, "Time to shine, La Reina!"

You feel your blood run cold at the nickname given to your former club member being directly used against you. You blink back the tears you feel welling up, running out onto the field as work mode kicks in. You don't even notice it's Leah until you're hovering over her on the field. You come down to your knees so you're at her level. "What happened this time?"

She sighs before sitting up, arms reaching out behind her to keep her propped up. A furrow between her brows settles in before the red on her cheeks starts to, "Y-You were flirting with Russo that's what bloody happened," you notice the roll of her eyes as she says it.

You can't help the small giggle that comes out of you, hands going to check her legs and ankles as you relish in her pouting. "Well maybe if you weren't so focused on glaring daggers into me you wouldn't have noticed."

"So you were flirting with her? You're not even going to deny it? Oh, you are someth-"

"Oh my god, no I wasn't' flirting with Alessia! She's just the only person to greet me so far without a tongue down the throat," you interrupt her as you realize how upset she actually is. "Plus, I wouldn't do that to you, Le. Never," you have to add in the last part. Too scared she'll cause a scene with her dramatic ass if you left it on a teasing note. You're sure she's had enough of that already today. "Now please— just tell me if you're hurt anywhere."

She goes even redder at that, turning into a mess of stutters as she directs her eyes anywhere but at you. 'U-Uh no. I-I'm fine, darling. No need t-to worry."

"But can you look me in the eyes and tell me that," you tease her. A smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you see her reaction.

"Oh fuck off would you!" She gives you that classic Williamson snarl. Face scrunched up into the meanest frown as her eyes find yours again.

"Mhm. Just make sure you give me a ride home tonight, and maybe I won't bench you."

"That seems like an abuse of power, babe." She laughs it out, falling back into her cocky attitude. "If you want me that bad, you just need to ask. No need to black mail me, darling."

The tables turn as you quickly find yourself as the one shyly blushing out a reply. "I didn't mean it like that you perv! God, you are infuriating you know that?"

"So I've been told," she smirks at you.

You rise to your feet before reaching a hand out to help her up. She finds her footing instantly compared to yesterday, jogging a circle around you as her ponytail swings behind her. "So am I clear, Doc? You giving me a clean bill of health?"

You roll your eyes this time, a bright smile breaking out across your lips as you start walking back to the sidelines of the pitch. "Yes, Leah. Now stop staring at me like a creep and go practice, Captain." You start jogging after the last part, quickly trying to clear the field and resolve practice. You don't notice the way her teammates whisper at the interaction between you two, or the way Rose shakes her head at it with a scrawl on her face. All you know is that Leah could flirt with you another time, right now work needs to come first.

You stop in front of the coach, discussing how you think Alessia is ready to come back and that Leah's good to go after her tumble. When you get the go ahead you get back in line with the other AT's, standing next to Laura as a conversation about restocking the med room supplies takes over comfortably. The rest of practice goes by smoothly, aside from the occasional glare from Rose. You try to keep any eye on where she goes after practice, wanting to sneak a moment alone with her to finally talk about everything. You lose her as she disappears into the locker room, not wanting to risk seeing a half naked Leah in such a populated area at the moment. So with a sigh you retreat to pack up your own things for the night, taking a clipboard and writing down a list of items you're low on as you do.

You hear the door open as you finish checking the last cabinet in the room, not looking up before speaking. "Oh Laura, do you know where we put in our order forms? I couldn't find any so I just started writing my own list."

"That's a little out of my job description, love." You turn around at that, coming face to face alone with Leah once again. You can feel your heart speeding up at the sight of her— god dammit she has you hooked. You set the clipboard down as you collect your bags from the floor, taking the time to regain your breath before walking out of the room with her. "Let me carry your bags, they look heavy."

"No, I can carry them on my own just fine, thank you. I have my whole career and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Don't be stubborn and just let me help you!"

"No! It's not like you're my girlfriend, you don't have a reason to carry them."

"Yeah, but I could be."

"W-What? Leah what are you even talking about—"

She stops you two in the dark empty hallway, turning you to face her as she speaks. "I could be your girlfriend," she smirks down at you as she leans in closer. You start backing up until you hit the wall, her body caging you as she finishes her statement. "And you could be mine."

She's so close you swear you can feel her heartbeat against your chest, breath dusting over your cheeks as she stares down at your lips. You're speechless and filled with a mix of emotions at her words, but still you lean up to kiss her. You pull away before she can deepen it though, "We can't, Le."

"Why not?"

"Because we just can't."

"Give me one good reason why we can't go out on a date, Y/N." Her hands cup your cheeks as she speaks, pulling you even closer as her lips tickle against yours.

"Because I don't date my coworkers. It's a rule I have set for myself."

"Well, some rules are made to be broken," and with that you let her capture your mouth with hers. You two get lost in the feeling of sparks flying off your lips, making out up against the wall like a couple of horny teenagers. She kisses you until your lips are raw, stinging, and swollen.

Then she's leading you out, hand in hand to her car. She opens the door for you, stealing a peck from your lips before she shuts it back. Her hand finds your thigh as she squeezes it a bit, sending a hushed whine to fall out into the air of her Audi A5. She licks her lips at the sound, sliding her hand up until she's rubbing you through your jean shorts. "You really think a few buttons is gonna stop me from getting to your pussy, (Y/N)?" She chuckles out as you look at her with wide eyes, freezing as you realize she caught onto the small detail you put into not ending up like this. Of course, she notices.

"Shut up, Le! Just do something already," there's a frustrated lilt to your voice, hips pushing down into the pressure of her hand through the denim. She pulls her touch away at that, her hand coming up to your face as she grips your jaw to face her. "Last time I checked, I don't give brats what they want. Try again like a good girl, and maybe I'll let you cum tonight."

You huff out at that, but you hold back on the eye roll that almost comes out of you. You know Leah well enough to know she's deadly serious, if you don't repeat your request in manner fitting to her standards? She'll drive you home and not touch you properly the whole way, teasing touches that never give you quite enough to get any real relief. It's just enough to have you dripping and desperate for her, begging when you both know it's far too late for her to give in. If Leah's one thing then it's being as stubborn as a brick wall. She will not break. No matter what you say, what you do, or how much you cry— she's not budging in her decisions. So you best listen the first time she allows you to correct yourself. With that knowledge in mind, you relax your face before giving into the English woman.

"Please make me feel good, Le." She laughs at your attempt. "I know you can do better than that," her grip gets tighter as her other hand starts unbuttoning your shorts. "And you know you have to tell me what you want, Y/N."

"Want your fingers, Le! Want you to fuck me till I'm making a mess on your expensive leather seats— please!" You whining louder now, growing confidence in the power play you two slip back into so easily. It's comforting and familiar in a new world of scary and unknown, and maybe that's why you keep finding yourself giving into her so easily…Or maybe it's because she knows your body better than anyone else— including yourself.

She smirks this time, slipping her hand down from your jaw onto your neck as her other one slides into your opened shorts. Your hands instinctually go to wrap around her wrist, nails digging into her flesh as she starts rubbing circles onto your panty covered clit. Your reaction is instant as you let small hums of pleasure escape you, grinding into the pressure once more now that it's more direct. Your gaze stays on hers as it intensifies, keeping you enchanted with the beauty of her crystal blue eyes. She tugs on your neck, bringing you into a heated kiss before she's slipping two of her fingers inside you. You let a moan out into her mouth and Leah takes the advantage to slide her tongue into yours. Her thumb rests on your clit as she lets you take a second, rubbing little shapes into the bundle of nerves. She starts moving her fingers as her tongue clashes with yours, a fight for dominance she quickly wins. It's hard to stand your ground when you've got long, thick fingers filling you up, okay? You try!

She doesn't pull away. Not until you can't breathe and you're both gasping for air as your chests heave up and down. Her lips move down to find your neck, mouth going to work as she speeds her thrusts up. You don't even think to tell her to stop. Consequences so far from your mind at the moment that you'd probably let her fuck you on the hood. You just relish in the way she curls her fingers inside your pussy, sending bolts of electricity through your body as your high approaches in no time. You look down between your thighs and you almost moan out loud at the sight of Leah's muscular arm flexing with every move she makes. You can't help the way you start riding her fingers at that point, breathy whines of her name leaving your lips like a prayer. "Le-Leah! Oh fuck, baby— please lemme cum, Le!"

"Already? I don't think so, darling. Hold it for me," she's laughing at you, vibrations moving through your neck as she keeps her lips pressed against your skin there. And dear god you want to cry when she says that. Sure you can make yourself cum— but not like she can. Oh no. You both know that's true, that's why you're bouncing on her fingers in the parking lot of your new employment. No one else would ever have you acting like this— they never have. Only Leah has ever had this kind of magnetic pull to her that you can't seem to resist. It's impractical and messy…but you know you can't quit her. Even if you can't admit it to yourself yet, she's got you wrapped up so tight around her finger that it's a little concerning…she's got you wrapped tight around two of her fingers right now if you wanna be specific, but that's not the point.

She groans out as she pulls back to watch you, eyes fixated on the way your breasts bounce along with the thrusts. You move one of your hands to wrap around her forearm between your thighs, and feeling the muscles move under your touch only sends you closer to the edge. Your hips start to stutter as your breathing picks up, you go to open your mouth and beg her a second time, but she cuts you off. "Go ahead, love. Cum for me," The next words come out in a growl as she puts more pressure on thumb attached to your clit, "Make a mess on my fucking seat so I can make you lick it clean afterwards."

Your eyes roll back at the sequences of actions, thighs closing around her arm as she keeps fucking you through your high. "Just like that, baby." She keeps going after your done though, a sensitive ache taking over your pussy from her treatment. "T-Too much, Le!" She darkly chuckles at that, a harsh tone coming off her next words.

"You can take fucking more," she switches to a softer one as she continues, "Just one more, darling. I know you've got it in you."

She pulls her fingers out of your cunt slowly, using her two soaked fingers to rub your clit now. She keeps going even after your thighs start shaking, her stamina much higher from her pro athlete training. She only said one more, but by the look of determination across her face…you know she's not done with you yet. Your poor clit hasn't had a single break since she first touched it god knows how long ago. It creates a knot in your stomach to form that you haven't felt since you were last at her mercy. Your voice goes up a few octaves and your eyes start to cross as your hands claw at any piece of her you can reach. "Leah!" You don't even get enough time to ask for permission before the liquid gushes out of your cunt and it seeps through your denim shorts to collects on her seat. You don't even get a second to breathe, not when her hand finds place in your hair and starts yanking you into the floorboard. "Now clean it up like a good girl, darling. Show me how much you appreciate what I've given you."

Your cheeks flush a deep shade of red as lean your head down towards her passenger seat. There isn't a shit ton of your squirt there, but enough for you to get shy about it. The leather feels weird against your tongue, but you make quick work of collecting the arousal onto it. You let your eyes drift up to her as you slurp up the last drop, sticking your tongue out to show her before you finish the job with a lick to your lips. She can't help the moan that leaves her this time, pulling your body back up into the seat as you start kissing again. As soon as she pulls away she's shoving her fingers into your mouth as your tongue goes to suck them clean. Your eyes still stay on hers as you do, wrapping both your hands around her wrists as you start bopping your head onto them. Leah thinks she's gonna cum in her fucking sweat pants at this point, her pussy throbbing harder than it has this whole time. She can’t wait to have you choking on her strap again…all in due time tho.

She breaks after you pull them of out of your mouth, sending a kiss to the tips of her fingers before you return her hand to her. She is fucking short circuiting right now, her lips drop open as she stares at you in awe. It makes you smile, a newfound confidence taking over as you lean across the center console and press a quick kiss to her lips. You think you pulled away in time but she catches you just as fast as you left, pulling you in close as you start your third make out session of the day..and your fifth since yesterday— but like who is counting? You get so lost in kissing her that you only pull away after you catch a glimpse of the time shining on her dash. You pull back from her warm embrace, a surprised gasp leaving you as you go to put your seatbelt on. "Noooo, come back," she pulls at your neck, trying to get your mouth back onto hers. The next words you get out are rushed.

"Le, we really can't. It's 11:30 already and— shit! I have to walk into my building looking like I pissed myself. This is just fucking great," you throw your head back against the seat in frustration. See this is what happens when you have no self control like the pussy whipped slut that you are.

"Hey, hey, hey calm down motor mouth! I missed some of that, but I think I got the gists of it. I have extra sweats in my bag you can borrow. Just leave your ruined panties and shorts in here, and I'll wash them with my practice laundry. I am sorry I kept you out so late, though…but I promise I'll make up for it tomorrow," She rubs your jaw with her thumb as she says it. A soft smile overtaking her features as she soothes you back to calmness with the action.

"Thank you, Le. You really don't have to do all of that though. The sweatpants are enough," you can't mistake the way your heart flutters at even the offer of the gesture. It feels too intimate for the reality of your situation, but you don't push it too hard. "Yes, Y/N, I know that, but I want to. So just let me help you. Please?" There's something different about the way she says it. Like she knows that you always rely on only yourself and never take help from others without a fight. It's a survival technique you picked up a long time ago, but only Leah has ever noticed it..or at least cared enough to call it out.

So with a sigh you take a deep breath before nodding your head, rolling your eyes as you can't hide the grin spreading out on your lips. "Okay, okay! You win. You can keep my cum soaked panties like the pervert you truly are, Williamson."

She pushes at your shoulder at the remark, "Oi! Better watch your mouth or I'll stuff 'em in there till I drop you off!"

She hops out to run to her trunk, grabbing the extra pair of lounging pants as she makes her way back to hand them to you. You change in the front seat and it's…very fucking difficult to say the least. But a few shared laughs with Leah and a couple awkward positions is all it takes for you to be redressed, sitting back in your seat as you settle down with a giggle. You go to put on your seatbelt to match her, but she takes it from you, her hands lightly sliding into yours before she buckles it for you. She starts the Audi and puts it into drive as she goes to leave the parking lot. She doesn't need your address this go round, one time was enough for Leah to memorize the drive. Her hand finds your thigh for once more tonight, resting it there as you converse about what coffee shops are the best around. You end up agreeing to let her show you around the town on your next day off together, but repeatedly insisting that it is NOT a date.

You're in front of your door before you know it, Leah walking you up for the second night in a row now. You two share one last passionate kiss before you start pushing her away. "Okay, now you really do have to go. It's already midnight, Le. I'll see you in the morning, Captain Williams."

"Yes, you will, and you better not ignore me this time either!" She says it with that classic Leah frown.

"No promises," you fail at hiding your laugh as you say it.

She pulls you back in to steal one more kiss, sucking the breath from your lungs as she does. It's a kiss like the one she gave you yesterday at your door, and it completely steals away your ability to breathe. She's making you fall deeper and deeper into this game you two have going on. You know you'll wake up tomorrow and say to yourself that you can't let this continue on…right before going to work and throwing that pep talk right out of the window as soon as you see or hear her. She's not just some one night stand you had and you both know it, but when will you stop lying to yourself about? Only god knows.

"You just be ready for our date on Thursday. I'm already planning the day in my head, and it's going to be perfect!"

"Le, I told you It's not a date!"

"We'll see about that, darling."

And with that…she's off. Leaving you at your door clad in her pants as you watch her figure disappear into the elevator once more. You try not to think about how this is easily turning into routine between you two. The domestic act of her paying to park just to walk you up to your room doesn't slip by you either. Maybe it really isn't like Barca here, and maybe things can truly be different in so so many more ways than one. You sleep in Leah's sweats tonight, wrapped up in her scent as it drifts you off to sleep.

But Leah herself? Oh, she definitely sniffs your dirty panties as she makes herself cum. Yeah, she is a pervert, as you stated earlier...but only for you. Only you could get her so wound up and resorting to such a desperate act of degeneracy. She checks the time when she finally finishes: 1:23am it reads back to her. She groans out a sleepy sound of discomfort as she tosses your dirty underwear into her laundry basket, turning off her bedside lamp as the darkness of night consumes her. Her mind isn't so lucky, because now she's thinking of all the places she going to take you on your date. Yes date— you can deny it all you want, but like we've discussed: Leah Williamson always gets what she wants when she's determined…and she's never been this determined about anything before. So she decides right then and there— in the dead of night and the pitch black atmosphere, that by the end of the season…you will fully be hers. Not some secret hookup or whatever the fuck you two are now. No, Leah’s mind is set in making you her pretty girl who stands on the sidelines with her cute little first aid bag, ready to go. Hell, if she’s real lucky you’ll be her WAG on the on med staff, a shiny ring sitting on your finger as her physical claim of you. She finally starts to fall asleep to those thoughts, a smile gracing her lips as she prays that she sees your beautiful face in her dreams tonight.

#l.williamson 6 #woso fanfics #woso smut #woso x reader #woso writers #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson smut #leah williamson fanfic #woso x y/n #BMB.daph #woso imagine #woso blurbs #leah williamson x you #wlw smut #wlw x reader

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zeninslut · 3 days ago

Text

Three strikes, you're (not going) out!

Tw: fem!reader, smut, rough sex, drug use (weed), vague descriptions of being high, high sex, needy!Toji, kinda mean!toji, Porn with (minor) plot. Dumbification(?) Thumb in butt, squirting, no use of y/n, minor mentions of scent kink, use of daddy, degradation. 18+ MDNI

Wordcount: 3.5k

An: Hi guys, ah I'm so nervous as this is my first work so please go easy on me. If you write and you read this I’m always open to constructive criticism :) jus please PLEASE inbox me instead i get embarrassed easily. Also, this fic was inspired by @satorena ‘s "& drip till we soak the bed " which I enjoyed reading if you couldn't tell so take a look at that. The reader is black coded. Actually, this whole fic is as I am a black girl myself. also grammar isn't really my thing, i used grammarly but thats about all you're getting from me. I really enjoyed writing this and honestly, I can see myself doing this a lot more often so if you have any suggestions lmk! I’ll probably make a more formal post about that but without further ado:

Truth be told you don’t know how you got here, a couple minutes ago you were just adding on finishing touches to your makeup and spraying yourself with your “good girl” perfume by Carolina Herrera. You were way overdue for a girls’ night with Shoko and honestly, you needed this.

Since dating Toji, he has you stuck in the house all day even when he was busy working. Not letting you leave unless he comes with you like he’s your guard dog. Leaving you to stay at home since he took a gig that was able to retire you and himself but he still likes to work so he doesn’t feel too lazy.

He doesn’t work that often but his jobs have him gone for a while at a time. Every time he comes home to you, he’s such a big baby. He had just gotten home from a gig a couple days ago too. Needing nothing but you, he smothers you right where you lay on the couch despite your protests of him being dirty (may have not showered for 5 days but when you’re a hitman, you gotta weigh your priorities). He doesn't care, all he needs is you. After a couple times, you get used to it, even developing a thing for his natural musk.

You play with his hair pressing soft kisses on his forehead occasionally using the opportunity to smell his scalp as he lays on your soft plush body. He loves to spend his days off being with you, accompanying you with the smallest of tasks. When you ask him why he likes being around when you’re reading a book he just tells you to go back to reading but truth be told, you quiet his mind. Even without saying anything, your presence puts him at peace allowing his mind to rest from all the turmoil inside.

When Toji comes back from a gig it normally means you won't be leaving anytime soon and if you do, he’s standing right beside you in all his massive glory. So when he walked in you knew you needed to get away fast before he caught-

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he asked with the usual arrogant smirk on his face as he takes in the sight of you in this enticing dress (strike one). you notice the already lit blunt in his hand as the wedding cake smoke clouds fill the bathroom quickly. He stands behind you and gazes at you in the mirror as he takes a hit. You can practically hear the thoughts that fill his head as he leaves the blunt on his lips and starts to play with your ass. One hand on your back pressing and bending you into a pretty little arch for him. “ Tojiiiii please I have to meet Shoko I haven't seen her in weeks…” you beg him with pleading doe eyes and he almost immediately feels his dick twitch (strike two). “ aww yea?” he asks and you can hear the mockery in his voice already. “ you so fuckin pretty mama, Shoko needa see you all dolled up like this?” he says smoothly while practically eye fucking you. He finally tears his eyes off your plush fat ass to meet your gaze in the mirror.

His heavy vermin eyes bore into you with predatory hunger, he looked like he could eat you up and he truly was contemplating it. Especially after he got a whiff of your perfume, his absolute favorite. But he didn't think that you deserved it, oh no especially not after you tried to sneak off in this slutty ass dress without telling him.

It’s not like telling him would have changed anything though. He has no problem letting you get all dolled up before events so he could absolutely ruin you right as you leave. He just can't help himself.

He presses himself into you not breaking eye contact “You tryna leave me already baby?” he says charmingly as he feels his eyes get heavier and heavier from the weed. He begins to grind his fat heavy dick between your soft asscheeks slipping back and forth between them in the tight silky fabric of your dress. “ I missed you though mama..” he whispers in your ear as he pulls you up to press his larger front half into your smaller back half. He takes the blunt out his mouth to plant delicate kisses all over your neck and collarbone. “ Toji…” you whine again “please? I’ll be a good girl and I’ll be back before it gets really late so we can watch snowfall like you like to…” (strike three, you’re out!)

You were just so cute thinking that you would get out of this especially after you referred to yourself as a “good girl”.

Aww, what a cutie bringing up my fav show like that… calling herself a good girl. yea imma make sure she real good fa me He thinks to himself.

Maybe he would’ve let you go if he wasn’t high (chances would be slim to none but better than your chances now) but how could he? He always got so affectionate and horny when he got high even though his body is way stronger than the average human male. Which is crazy because already has the sex drive of a rabbit. “Yea?” he asks pressing your whole body into the bathroom counter. His hands find purchase on your bare back as the dress was backless. He tugs on the Gucci thong (courtesy of him btw) you're wearing the fuck? his eye twitches, and all hopes of salvation are absolutely demolished as he smirks evilly but you can't even see him as he presses your head onto the counter.

Of course she tries to leave in this slutty ass outfit without me, what the hell wrong with this girl? then she got the nerve to look at me like that like my dick not already hard. She just makes this too easy for me and way harder on herself

“Give me a lil show and maybe just MAYBE I'll have mercy on you tonight” he lies. His fingers find your hair and pull you up to look at him in the mirror. You sigh as you feel his other hand lift your dress up but honestly, you love this. You both knew he was lying but you couldn’t help but play into it. You love how he can’t get enough of you, especially in his high daze. You feel the tip of his clothed dick prod against the thin fabric barely covering your fat puffy folds. You rub your fat ass all over his heavy length feeling it get harder and harder by the second. His breathing becomes deeper as he holds the blunt in his hand. You place your hand on his bare abs. “ let me hit it” you say looking back at him straight in the eyes referring to the blunt and you feel his dick twitch under you. Yea, it’s safe to say Shoko was not seeing you tonight.

Now that you think about it you know exactly how your slutty ass got here, standing on your tippy toes, throwing your fat ass back on your man and his hefty dick. He watches in awe, blunt trapped between his lips, lost in the waves. He loved when you did the work for him honestly, your slick warm cunny milking him for everything he’s got left, he could stay like this forever and he really wanted to. Full you up nice and full and send you on your merry way to Shoko but he knew you would be tired after he was done for you. Shit, you might even be tired now he thinks when he feels you abruptly stop.

He furrows his eyebrows as his eyes meet your tear-stained ones in the mirror and he feels his dick twitch and throb. He knows he’s a sick man, getting off to you crying from exhaustion but he truly can’t help himself. He really is a sadist at heart. Every time he feels like he can’t get harder he does. He puts out the blunt before placing both his hands on the arch of your back

“aww my slutty baby getting tired huh? you wanna cum don’t you?” he asks lowly and you only nod in response as your legs shake. He kisses his teeth and lands a heavy smack on your ass which makes you jolt with him still inside of you “words mama, you need to use your words” he says as glares at you in the mirror. “yes daddy hmph, I wanna cum please” you beg your eyes not leaving his. “then fucking take it and make yourself cum all over this dick. Who told you to stop he fuck? You think yo lil ass in charge now?” he spits at you harshly and lands another smack on your ass as he feels you flutter around him. He knows exactly what to say to get you going. You whimper but get on your tippy toes again working towards your orgasm. “ that’s it, there you go mama. This yo dick pretty girl.” you moan loudly feeling your walls clench around him from his words. He smirks knowing that he will forever have you in his grasp by that smooth ass mouth of his. “damn baby you taking me so well… So deep too. you better make a fucking mess on this dick too. Fuckkk, look at you, already wetting it up. ” he groans lowly as he stares at where you guys connect and glare back at you in the mirror.

His gaze is tense and unwavering watching your face contort from the pleasurable pain of impaling yourself on his dick. You practically saw hearts in his eyes from the way he looked at you. You feel your face grow hot as you look away feeling embarrassed from the intimacy. As you look away you feel his big hand cup the entirety of your face and force your gaze to meet his.

You swear you can hear him say “ look at me “ but his mouth remains closed as he makes sure you understand.

“youn wanna look at me no more?” he asks with fake sadness “I don't give a single fuck. look at me while you use my cock. I’m so deep inside you, I can feel that cervix. You’re doing that baby, You know that?” he then works his hand to your throat and grabs it to use it as leverage to press your body firmly against his. He fights the urge to take control as you continue to work yourself back onto him.” you the one that got me digging me in you like this. Such a slut taking me this deep yea? You feeling me baby?” he asks you with incredible finesse and you were in fact feeling him, digging you out due to your own doing.

Each thrust backwards being met with a delicious pleasure forming a knot building in your stomach. “ cause I'm feeling you, so warm and tight. You feel so good baby” he moans to you without shame. “ooo shitttt, I feel you baby”’ you moan loudly feeling your body give out to the sensation of being full. “you like that huh? You like that I can feel your insides warming me up and begging me not to leave? Don’t worry my pretty girl, I'm not going anywhere and neither are you.” you moan loudly at his words feeling yourself get closer with each thrust backward. You feel your legs shake and your feet cramping as you get closer to your orgasm. “that's it, use me. Make yourself cream all over this dick and I promise imma make you squirt on it next” he all but begs you. Your eyes are torn away from him as they roll back to your head. You fuck yourself back onto him through your orgasm, creaming on him with a loud cry.

You genuinely cannot continue fucking him but you still need him inside you so your actions slow to a stop and he pulls himself out of you “Toji? ” you look back at the Greek god-like physique of the man behind you in desperation. He stares at your pretty pussy for a min as you whine for him. “Beg.” he says now slapping his fat cock head on your clit making you jolt. You reach your hand behind you to hold and stroke his cock, taping it on your entrance too hoping he will give in but every time you try to slide him in, he pulls away. When that doesn’t work you get frustrated resorting to the brat he knows all too well.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what? Like seriously. You already ruined my night out and god knows when I will get the chance to see the fucking sun again since you like to hold me captive for decades at a time” you say annoyed as you glare at him through the mirror. His face holds something unreadable and that should’ve been your sign to stop talking but oh what the hell, you’re already here now. You smirk maliciously as the next words leave your mouth. “Or are you just so damn high that you can’t even handle me right now? You’re such a baby. I smoked more of that blunt than you did, you fucking lightweight. You need a nap baby boy?” your words are laced with unmistaken condescendence.

He opens the bathroom drawer next to you and grabs the candle lighter, relighting the blunt. “fucking finish this shit. I’m not fucking playing with you either, you better take everything I give you” looks you dead back in your eyes and by the tone of his voice, he has had enough of your bullshit tonight. You take it from him and follow his orders, hitting it while he fixes your arch nice and deep for him. “ and you better keep this fucking arch too because if I have to fix it for you, you won’t like it.” he grumbles angrily as he lines himself up at your entrance again. “can’t handle you right now? That weak-ass sorry-ass arch you had throwing that shit back to me, you lucky I’m in love with yo sexy ass.” he fires back at you. He was lying though, he definitely was mesmerized at the way you moved your perfect body even when he was the one so deep so deep inside you. He throws his head back and rolls his neck and you can only brace yourself for what happens next. It all happens so fast.

Soul-crushing and spine-shattering couldn’t even describe it.

The roach of the blunt remains in your hand, your eyes roll back and your mouth stays agape in pure ecstasy as Toji fastly thrusts into you. He gives you fast, hard strokes as his girth fills you up hitting all the right places. “ Do I need a nap??? Do you know who the fuck I am?” he boasts as he drives his body into yours. Between damn near finishing that blunt and the rough treatment from Toji, you were genuinely on cloud nine.

Repetitive moans left your mouth that could only be described as lewd. He leans back and smirks looking at the mess of a brat he made. His eyes find your puckering hole and he smiles to himself. He can’t even fight off the thoughts of making you his favorite bowling ball.

You on the other hand can’t even understand what this man is doing to you before his thumb is in your mouth. “wet this shit up fa me yea? Can you do that fa me baby?” he asks you with a saccharine tone. You are like putty in his hands, all cute and pliant for him. He watches you lustfully as you suck his thumb and spit on it heavily. He then uses both of his hands to spread you wide for him before spitting a glob onto the tight ring of your ass. He thumbs the hole, feeling it flutter underneath his touch practically inviting him in. He grins cockily at the visual, he already knows this is your favorite trick of his. You whimper as he swirls his thumb around the hole teasing you. He knows this is just what you need to throw you over the edge. “ you want it in your butt huh?” he looks at you once again through the mirror but you can't even meet his eyes, only moaning the word yes over and over again. He decides to have mercy on you but still doesn’t spare you the hard time. He sinks his fat thumb into your asshole and almost immediately he feels you clamping down on him.

“What a slut. You a butt slut baby?” he asks you finding your reaction too funny. Who would know his perfect girlfriend likes to have her pretty tight asshole played with. He moves his thumb around in your ass using it as a hook to fuck you deeper and you all but moan at the stimulation. “say it, say you're my dumb butt slut” he commands.

Honestly, he doesn’t need to hear this, he just wants to see how far you gone you are and he truly finds out how lost you are when you scream about how much you love when he puts his thumb in your butt proclaiming over and over again that you are in fact his stupid butt slut. He laughs to himself while doing his finishing move. He begins to move his thumb in and out of your tight hole feeling it hold onto him while his other hand moves to your clit. He starts rubbing rapid fast circles and quickly your legs buckle beneath you being caught by the counter.

Your feet are above ground as he fucks you harder and rougher. He’s really fucking you into the counter at this point and you are loving every single second of it. Pornographic is the only word that can describe the sounds coming from the bathroom and even that would be an understatement. Your vision becomes blotchy as he works your body. Your legs are close together and shaking while the ever-forming knot in your stomach gets ready to release. Even though Toji is really putting that work in, he’s coming close to his release as well. Your pretty slick cunt giving him a run for his money like always. He can feel you clenching tighter and tighter as he feels himself inside you through the tissue separating your pussy and ass and he almost cums right there. He can never understand how you take him so well, the visual of both your holes being stuffed forms a desire in his mind that can only be described as animalistic.

"you boutta cum baby?” He questions you a couple of seconds before your release but he already knows the answer. “ cum all on this dick so I can fill you up and you gotta stay inside with me forever.” his words through you over the edge as well as him suddenly pulling his thumb that was so deep in your ass out, making you squirt all over his hefty length in a loud shriek.

The visual of you squirting around him and your fluttering asshole makes his release find him earlier than anticipated as he shoots his hot thick ropes of cum inside you with the most guttural moans you had heard in a while. He stays inside you softening and then pulls out slowly, plugging you back up with his fingers. He needs to make sure it stays in. You moan at the overstimulation but you don't protest smiling hazily as he enjoys your fucked out expression.

You feel him planting gentle kisses down your back praising you for taking him so well. He then pulls his fingers out bringing them to your mouth to lick, lifts your dress back down, and puts the thong back on you despite your weak shaking legs and overfilling cunt quickly leaking through the fabric of it. He leaves for a second and you look at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. Hair and makeup all fucked up. He comes back into your field of vision holding car keys.

“ I’ll drop you off at Shoko’s place c'mon” he smirks admiring his work.

He knew damn well…

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH🦅

#toji fushigro x reader #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk men #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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netscapenavigator-official · 3 days ago

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I’ve seen a few other perspectives that I also agree with, and I’m gonna go over them here:

#1 - No matter who we ran, we were gonna get fucked. Biden was unpopular, and he inherited an economy that, thanks to COVID, was going to inflate no matter what. I’ve seen a lot of people say that if Trump hadn’t flopped COVID, he probably could’ve snatched a second term in 2020. Then, we’d be in the position they are because, like Biden, there wouldn’t have been annything Trump could’ve done about post-COVID inflation. As a result, Trump would’ve been blamed for the post-COVID inflation, resulting in an overbearing Democrat win in 2024.

#2 - I tuned into a New Zealander’s “day after” live stream, and she said that the general consensus there was that Harris failed to separate herself from Biden enough, and I also agree with that (in hindsight). People didn’t like Biden. He was old, and he was a hold-over President. In 2020, he even promised that he’d only run for one term, then he’d step down to allow someone actually worthy to run. The only reason Biden was so well supported in 2020 was because people knew it wasn’t about supporting him. It was about defeating Trump. Despite his genuine economic improvements and strides in legislation for 2020-2022, people still blamed him for post-COVID inflation. Not to mention how much his name was tarnished after that debate and his refusal to speak highly of Palestine.

We know #2 is (at least partially) true because Harris initially led the polls. When she took over, people were excited! She was a young, progressive face running a campaign for hope, change, and doing things differently. Biden making the shocking and radical choice to step down made people assume that this was a major shift in ballsy-ness for Democrats (and thusly Harris). That’s why Obama won as a black man: He gave people hope of change, and it could’ve helped Harris win as a black woman, too. However, Harris made the same mistake as Clinton: She gave up her radical change campaign for a lukewarm centrist one that basically said “we’re gonna do what we were doing, except slightly different.” People didn’t want the same thing. They wanted change. And we know this because as Harris slowly trekked right, her polling numbers slowly fell back to Biden’s level. People stopped seeing her as the cool new future, and they started seeing her as Biden 2.0. People did not want Biden 2.0.

I also think Palestine played an important role in all this. I don’t think it was any of these three factors separately, but rather all of them working together. By refusing to support Palestine, Harris essentially sealed her fate. People thought she was the change they needed. The big thing people were mad at Biden for was his stance on Palestine. Whether they admit it or not, when Harris took over, people put in their heads that she would separate herself from Biden’s Palestine stance, like she had with his past. But when she refused to break away from Biden’s stance on Palestine, it immediately made younger voters realize that she was just Biden 2.0, and they didn’t want that. It felt like a rug pull, and it discouraged Gen Z.

Support for Palestine was a key to a door. A door that was preventing her from going further left and tapping into the same, younger, more radical voter base that Obama did. She worried that Gen Z’s “we won’t vote for you” rhetoric would cost her the election. She never even considered that sticking to her guns might result in silent (but angry) votes from those people. But to her, she needed more votes, and she couldn’t go further left. So what did she do? She went right. And as she did, her polling numbers declined. That discouraged the people who initially loved her when she first took over the campaign. And it didn’t entice centrist and republicans because, as OP said, why would they vote for the Diet Conservative when they can just vote for the full-fledged one?

I think the younger, Gen Z vote was crucial in 2020. I think it was also crucial in preventing the Red Wave in 2022. And I think it could’ve been crucial in this election for finally ridding this country of Trump and the MAGA Cult. But… Harris didn’t appeal to the young… so they didn’t show up for her. As Bernie said, she gave up on them. So they gave up on her. I, personally, don’t think the swing for Gen Z men is as bad as it’s being made out to be. I think it’s being inflated by the fact that a disproportionate amount of Zoomers simply didn’t vote because they felt like Harris was just Biden 2.0.

Will Democrats learn from this? I hope so, but I’m not holding my breath.

I especially hope (if there are future elections that mean anything) that we can cripple the GOP in the 2026 mid-terms to at least stop their rein of terror. I also hope that when 2028 comes around, more people learn from Harris’s moral betrayal and take the Primaries seriously, so we can send an overwhelming message to the DNC about the type of candidate we want.

I don’t know if these things will happen. I worry that the dismay we’re seeing from the left is a sign for future “what’s the point in voting” mindsets. However, I’m hopeful that, once the dust settles, the sorrow fades to drive, and it lights a fire under the asses of the American left, so we can successfully drag Democrats more left, no matter how much they claw, kick, and scream.

And before I close this post off, I’ve seen another post floating around Tumblr that’s akin to “‘Voting every four years is so tiring!’ Well you shouldn’t be voting just every four years, anyway.” And I agree. This election may have nailed the door shut, but every hammer has a dual-sided rear for a reason. The 2026 mid-terms and 2028 primaries could be CRUCIAL in not only stopping the GOP, but making sure we get a GOOD candidate who can take on Trump or Jance Dance Vance or whoever. People like to only screaming “VOTE!” for the presidential race, but it’s time we look elsewhere. The next mid-term and primaries are what we SHOULD be focusing on. They’re closer than you think. Don’t less this discourage you. Don’t let the future discourage you. In less than 2 years we CAN throw a wrench in this administration’s plans.

Also, P.S., in case anyone says it, in my personal opinion, a 2024 primary wouldn’t have saved us from this fate. Harris had the name. She had the Biden admin’s funds. She had a “hopeful change” campaign, at the start. She had the support, at the start. She had the experience as vice president. In my opinion, she absolutely would have been chosen if a 2024 primary would’ve happened. People loved her at first, remember, and she had far more DNC support, money, vp experience, and notoriety that any challenger could’ve mustered. Her stance as reigning Vice President would’ve done A LOT of work. She would have won a 2020 primary. It wasn’t her rise to candidacy that caused this. It was what she did after she got it.

I think there are some takeaways here, if we want to learn from this.

First: third-party voters were irrelevant. In no swing state did left-leaning third-party voters add up to enough to push Harris over.

Second: many progressive policies and politicians outperformed Harris.

Third: appealing to Republicans did not work.

It has never worked, in the US or in Europe, we've seen time and again that giving ground to right wing policies only legitimizes them and voters then prefer the original. For example, if you worry about immigration, and both sides are saying it's a problem, who do you trust more to handle it?

Fourth: polls were pretty accurate. There were months, years, really, of debate about polling being broken, which demographics were underrepresented, which were overrepresented, herding, hopes that they were overcorrecting for the last two misses on Trump, but they ended up closer than anybody wanted. Which also means that Biden would have lost by even worse.

Fifth: on the one hand, people should hopefully see this graphic and realize there's no minority to scapegoat:

On the other hand, I'm seeing a lot of people take it as a sign the country has simply shifted to the right in a huge, undeniable way that's depressing and ominous and feels hopeless. After all, Trump will win the popular vote by a lot, the first time a Republican has in decades.

However, this should be taken in conjunction with these numbers:

Now THIS is something that's open to further analysis and that can be worked with.

Why did so many Democrat voters not show up?

Here are some potential reasons for this, the truth most likely being a combination of at least several of them:

She's a Black-Indian woman. There's no denying the racism and misogyny among the US electorate, but given earlier polls where she was leading, I don't think this was the main or certainly only reason.

She was seen as too progressive/leftist. Again, by virtue of our racist, misogynistic electorate and our billionaire-owned media, Harris was seen as too extreme left by a lot of people, not just because of policies, but because inherently, her identity itself is extreme left to them. I personally don't think this was a crucial factor because, again, she had been leading when she was going stronger on the progressive messaging, other progressive policies and politicians outperformed her, and a lot of the people who think she's too extreme are Republicans who'd never vote for her. I just don't think it's a good enough reason for the millions of Democrats who didn't show.

Palestine. There's a coalition of pro-Palestine people, not just Muslims and Arab Americans but leftists and other POC too, but numerically, their vote for third parties made no difference. Did enough shift to Trump or not show up at all? Certainly in Michigan they swung to the right, but would that have made a difference? Did they matter in other less tangible ways, e.g., a lot of the same active progressives who'd have been out campaigning simply voted quietly for Harris and left it at that? How much of a distraction was this for Dems, having to constantly address Gaza as opposed to putting forth their own policies, and did it contribute to the overall perception of them being incompetent and weak and bringing chaos when people were tired of it? I think Palestine did have an effect, but enough to swing it overall...?

Not being progressive enough. A lot of people will point to Palestine and immigration, the decision to campaign with Liz Cheney and Mark Cuban and court Republican moderates, stifling Walz, and various other shifts that abandoned the left for the center and then the left didn't show up while the center went for Republicans as they always do, but the left isn't that large. I think, if this one point is a factor, it's more that it was simply difficult for normal voters to show up when they didn't really know what the candidate stood for, aside from "more of the same" and "not Trump".

Biden. When you have a ton of people unhappy with where the country is going, including their biggest priority, the economy, being tied to an unpopular incumbent was going to be tough, especially when, as a Black-Indian woman, she would be judged as disloyal if she broke too much from him. Nevertheless... People were unhappy with him and his administration.

Ultimately, I think there's a lot to learn and I hope Dems will.

I think we're in for a tough time and we're going to need community and solidarity, not fighting among ourselves.

#rambles #kamala harris #harris walz 2024 #elections #election #election 2024 #us elections #presidential election #theory

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stuckinapril · 13 hours ago

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I literally know so much of my misery boils down to my overextended reading slump like this can’t go on

#I need to start reading again I’m feeling miserable not doing that bitch #My bookcase needs love #what if my analysis skills atrophied entirely #Now I need to buy a book on analysis too bc I’m scared I won’t absorb anything #Then I can start reading again and then I can post my thoughts about what I’m reading instead of being annoyed with people here perpetually #To be fair I have to study and I do count textbooks but I miss reading something from my BOOKCASE #I might join a book club I think that would be such a sick idea

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dollishbabess · 2 days ago

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MY ONLY LOVE ⋆. 𐙚 ˚- DOLLISH

── .✦

(Song ── .✦ here)

A/n: literally I’M BACKKK (let’s knock on wood now..) but omg college got so busy atp that I disappeared from here oml but I can’t wait for xmas break but also I wanted to say that sadly romance-tober has been canceled until further notice and the amount of dms I got asking for the romance-tober posts are so much omg tyy but a lot of people are demanding a spin off but I’ll see if it fits my schedule tbh but I can’t wait!, but you guys my birthday is in like December 7th so only a month left so we’ll get a series but not romance-tober (maybe 2025??) but a birthday series in December will be going up till the 7th of December and I’ll list a q&a for that too.

Tags: jason todd x fem!reader

The sun was starting its slow descent, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and lavender, the kind of colors that only showed up during those fleeting moments before dusk. There was a chill in the autumn air, gentle enough to be refreshing but sharp enough to remind you that fall was nearly over was here, with its promise of longer nights and cooler days. The park was nearly empty, just a few distant figures walking their dogs, and a breeze rustling through the trees.

You had spent the afternoon setting up a small picnic, knowing that Jason would appreciate the gesture even if he pretended otherwise (he has a fear of gun shots going off at the park randomly.) The plaid blanket was laid out on the grass, anchored at the corners with smooth stones. A few candles, placed carefully in glass jars, flickered with warm light, casting a soft glow over the spread you had prepared. You had brought everything he liked simple sandwiches, fresh fruit, a thermos of hot cocoa. There was even a little bouquet of wildflowers, arranged haphazardly but with care, because you knew he’d like that kind of thoughtful imperfection.

Jason arrived quietly, as he often did, a shadow that melted into your line of sight as if he’d always been there. You saw the flicker of a smile when he spotted you, his eyes lighting up in that way that made your heart feel warm and full. He walked over, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, looking like he belonged somewhere between a dream and reality, with the way the dimming light hit his features.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and familiar, as he sat down next to you on the blanket. “This is nice.”

You smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I thought you’d like it. Figured you could use a break.”

He nodded, a little stiffly, but there was a softness in his gaze that he didn’t bother hiding. “You thought right.”

For a while, the two of you just sat there, sharing quiet conversation and comfortable silence, with only the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional distant bark of a dog breaking the stillness. He leaned back on his hands, his posture relaxed, and you couldn’t help but watch him. The way the fading light caught in his eyes, the way his hair fell across his forehead he looked at peace.

“I always forget how pretty it is out here,” Jason said, breaking the silence, his eyes fixed on the sky, which had deepened to a rich indigo. “Gotham doesn’t look like this.”

“Gotham doesn’t get to see you like this,” you replied softly, your voice almost swallowed by the night. He turned to you, a little surprised by the quiet honesty in your tone. “Calm, not on edge. Just… here.”

He chuckled, but it was a gentle sound, devoid of the usual sarcasm. “I guess you bring out the best in me.”

You reached over, grabbing the thermos, and poured him a cup of hot cocoa, the steam curling up between you. “I just want you to have moments like this,” you said, handing him the cup. “You deserve them.”

Jason took the cup, but his attention was on you, his gaze lingering, as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory. “You know, I don’t think I ever really thanked you,” he said, his voice a little rough, like he was trying to find the right words. “For all of this. For… you.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to thank me, Jason.”

But he shook his head, more insistent. “No, I do. You make everything feel less… heavy. Like there’s more to life than just fighting and surviving. And I know I’m not the easiest person to care about, but… I’m glad you do.”

The words hung between you, heavy and light at the same time, as if they carried a weight but also set something free. You didn’t know what to say, so you leaned in closer, closing the distance between you. He put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, and you nestled into his warmth, breathing in the familiar scent of his jacket.

The stars were starting to come out, tiny pinpricks of light scattered across the sky. You looked up at them, feeling the world slow down around you, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, suspended in this soft, glowing bubble of time.

“Stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just like this.”

He tightened his hold on you, resting his chin atop your head. “I’m not going anywhere babe.”

The world could be cruel and chaotic, but here, under the stars with Jason’s arm around you and the scent of wildflowers mingling with the crisp night air, everything felt achingly beautiful, like a song that played softly in the background, lulling you into a moment you wished could last forever.

@dollishbabess work not yours, do not repost or copy or translate.

Divider: @cafekitsune

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weltraum-vaquero · 2 days ago

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Swan song

Professor Viktor x TA Reader

[PART 1]｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆[PART 2] ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆[PART 3] (coming soon)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆[AO3 link] ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

Summary: You’re a bright phD student who won’t shy away from a challenge. Getting the most notorious professor at the University of Piltover to hire you as his assistant is one of them.

Tags: Modern AU, SFW (for now…), DILF professor Viktor, romanticizing and eroticizing borsht, lab shenanigans, reader being filled with equal parts shame and lust

Word count: 7.8k

Notice: This fic is written with a transmasculine reader in mind, but that won’t come into play at all until the final third chapter of this mini-series.

Notes: A little something something while we await season two ;] The draft for this post deleted itself twice now. If the formatting looks wonky (especially in the texting section), NO, it doesn't. Shut up.

He didn’t lie.

Which is all the more shocking, considering you attend his 8AM lecture on the very same day, and he seems more bright and alight than you’ve ever seen him.

When did he find the time?

Though there isn’t a daunting amount to your thesis just yet, you still want to believe you’ve written something quite substantial over the past months.

You toss one glance around yourself before you follow him into his office after his lecture, and you find the stack of papers you’d left on his desk last night looking positively devoured, in the most… academic way possible. Scribbles and notes litter the margins, the edges of the papers are already somehow lightly worn.

He must have read it multiple times.

“Coffee?” He offers.

“Yes, please.”

As he gropes the machine in search of its switch again, he cocks his brow at you. “And what was that for?”

You frown. “What was what for?”

“That… glance, before you followed me into my office.” The switch clicks, the light comes on. “Looking around like you were being followed.”

“Oh,” caught in the embarrassing act, you shrug. “I don’t know. Being cautious, I guess. Students have been looking at me a little funny, lately.”

“Much too late for caution, I’m afraid.”

Uh oh.

As he retrieves two paper cups, you’re left wondering what exactly that should mean.

“Why’s that?”

“I thought you were well aware of the fact that rumors would start, um… circulating the moment I made it public that I had hired an assistant.” Coffee trickles into the cups, a soothing little melody. Viktor leans against the wall beside the machine as he watches the cups fill. “I’ve always been adamant about not needing one. It is natural for people to have questions — and to come up with, eh, answers — when I suddenly do.”

The notion of the answers students might have come up with swirls around in your brain.

You wish they were right.

You’re glad they’re not.

You look at Viktor.

“Do you mind it?”

The coffee stops pouring. Viktor does that thing again, spreading long fingers apart to grasp both cups. And he’s quiet — for a beat longer than he should be.

“No. There are more important things to worry about than… gossip.” He sets the cups on the table, then takes his seat. He hesitates for a brief second, craning his neck before he fixates on you, motionless. Waiting. “Do you?”

“Trying not to.”

The answer makes him… deflate, somehow. It’s barely visible, for just a fraction of a second his chest sinks, before his tone is back to his composed cadence.

“You will get used to it,” he assures. “Now, onto more interesting matters — your work.”

Thank god. You don’t know how much more of the awkward tiptoeing you could have handled.

“Yes.” Your heart leaps into your throat. Acting normal has never been so difficult. “What did you think?”

“Very impressive.” He slides the stack of papers towards you. “I have made some… suggestions here and there, should you wish to take them into consideration. But, I think you struck gold with your hypothesis. Should you need a conversation partner, guidance, anything at all — I would gladly be at your service.”

“Thank you, Viktor. I really appreciate this.”

At the sound of his own name coming from you, something in him shifts. Shifts with an unfamiliar near bashfulness, he stifles a little smile into the rim of his paper cup, the corners of his eyes crinkle, he settles into his seat a little further.

“But you never held up your end of the bargain,” you point out. That snaps him out of it.

“Ah, yes. I did not.” He continues to hide behind his cup, before he finally seems to decide to take a metaphorical leap, as he sets it down and stares down at it. “I fear the unfortunate truth may be that when it comes to research, I either work better with a partner, or that… Cecil is right and I need to slow down. Though I’d guess the former is more likely.”

“You used to work with, uh…” you’re not sure how to approach the topic, “Talis, didn’t you?”

“The five basic principles of applied arcanism are commonly referred to as Talis’ princies, you do not have to feign uncertainty to appease me.”

So you drop the attempt to tiptoe around the subject, and ask, plainly:

“Why wasn’t your name added on?”

Viktor scoffs. “Talis-Sidorov-Sviboda has a terrible ring to it. Or so he’d said. And admittedly… I was more of a conduit than the co-author of his idea. He said we would name the next big thing we would discover after me, but… well, you know how it is. I dedicated myself to teaching, he retired to lead a quiet life in his gaudy mansion with his sports cars and his purebred German shepherds after he married some businesswoman.”

Though his story does line up, those aren’t necessarily the rumors you’d heard. There’d been talk of more than just a mild dispute of names, and… well, there had been… something between Talis and Viktor. But that’s about all you know.

Under your gaze, Viktor grows suddenly uncomfortable — both with the subject and the fact that he might be able to tell you know more. He’s quick to redirect the conversation.

“As for my research: I have been studying the laminal hexoin cascade in stabilized hexgems in various matrices. And though bold, I have been attempting to figure out the ideal matrix — something that will allow for close to a hundred percent energy renewal and render all other sources of energy obsolete.”

”That is bold,” you say. Your other thought, you keep to yourself: it also sounds impossible. You suppose stabilizing hexgems 20 years ago was also something thought impossible — and yet, Viktor hadn’t shied away. If anyone is apt for the job, it is him. “Any luck so far?”

“Partially. They have been yielding favorable results, but not enough to be viable energetic alternatives as of now.” He takes his cup again, bringing it to his lips in a rushed movement, drinking a mouthful, rather than a sip. Once Viktor sets it down, his hand remains on the table, fingers tapping on the shiny surface once, twice— “I could use a theorist to assist me with a few things.”

The implication dizzies you. Is he…?

But then he slides another one of his drawers open, and retrieves a stack of papers. Slanted handwriting, barely legible — you’re by now intimately familiar with it: his cursive. It litters the pages, in different inks and in pencil, diagrams, sketches… just looking at it makes you hungry to read it.

He smiles as if he’s read your mind, again.

“I was thinking it could be you.”

—

You’re invited to his office for lunch break the very next day too. And though he assures you there is no pressure in having to read through his notes by then, you disregard it.

It takes you a reread to be able to make sense of all his scribbles, but… it’s brilliant. He’s brilliant.

It should stop surprising you by now — his ideas, his drive, his curiosity, his mind — but with every single time Vikror impresses you anew, he becomes something more distant.

As you’re marveling at his intricate weaving of concepts, it strikes you, unpleasantly, that this is the same man you’d wanted to devour just days ago. The man who’s made you coffee, the man whose sharp eyes fold at the corners when he smiles.

You’d have deified him, had he been your teacher. You still do, especially now, after you’ve seen more of what his mind is made of. The mere notion of him becomes terribly out of reach, and you’re plagued with guilt for that night. Guilt for having tainted such a man with your thoughts.

And yet, you still can’t help but think of his neck, the soft pink of his chapped lips, the hollow of his cheeks. You wonder what his mouth tastes like, and you want to slap yourself on the wrist for it. You should have, because minutes later, you wonder about worse things too. The scent of his skin, the coarseness of his body hair, how far up under his navel it might reach.

And when you finish reading his notes a second time and bring the paper to your nose to sniff it — hoping for a trace of him — you realize you have a problem. A serious one.

It torments you for the rest of the night, through the hours you spend writing up some suggestions and ideas, all the way to when you switch off the light, and hug whatever pillow’s within reach close.

When you get the urge to tilt your hips against it, you decide to get up and splash your face with water.

And you wish you could do the same thing the very next day on your lunch break, when you’re standing in the doorway of his office and he’s eating borscht. The sweet-tangy smell of vegetables, beef and beets makes your stomach growl, but your physical hunger is long lost on your otherwise preoccupied brain.

The beet red of the soup has pigmented his lips. They look kissed raw, puffy, ripe. A lavish speck of colour on his otherwise pale face, it draws your gaze and does not let it stay somewhere more respectful.

You want to taste them.

He does it for you, raspberry pink tip of his tongue darting over the plush of his lips before he swallows and finally greets you.

“Sorry,” you say, and it comes out tense, near horrified. You’ve caught him eating soup, for chrissakes, not being bent over his table. Oh, god. Why did you have to think about that? ”I’ll come back later.”

“No,” Viktor gestures to the empty seat across from him. He screws his thermos shut, and puts it away. “Please, I’ve been waiting for you. Sit.”

And you do, like the dog you feel like you are right now.

“Did you manage to find the time to read my notes?”

Oh, did you.

“I… followed your example and made some suggestions of my own. But on separate pages. Here.”

His reaction is more than what you’d hoped for. It’s more than the impressed raise of thick brows that had kept you fueled last night, it’s more than the smile you’d been hoping for.

“You are unbelievable,” he grins, and takes what you offer, pushing his glasses up his nose before he starts reading. You selfishly use the distraction to stare at his lips again. He mutters to himself as he reads, pink mouth molding around whispered jargon, nodding. “Yes, this… this is exactly what I’d hoped for, when I’d asked for your assistance. Your fresh set of eyes is invaluable. I hadn’t thought of approaching the modification from that angle.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the page for even just a moment, flipping it surprisingly fast, and taking it with him as he leans back in his seat.

And decides to torture you.

Viktor traces the pad of his own thumb over the curve of his bottom lip as he takes in your handwriting. The give of the flesh under his fingertip hypnotizes, the slight drag of rough skin on soft pink one, your mind is long gone.

You think of rough fingertips on his lips, on his chest, rough fingertips on the pasty white of his gaunt lower stomach, rough fingertips in coarse hair. Rough fingertips dipping between his milky thighs, rough fingertips on where he runs just as pink as he does on his lips, rough fingertips dipping, slipping on slick skin—

You need to stop.

And you most certainly need help.

“Is something the matter?”

It feels like you’ve swallowed your own brain whole when he speaks, because your skull rings hollow when you try to come up with a reply that isn’t incoherent babble.

“Wh— me? No. Why?”

And because embarrassment loves to stick around once it has made its presence known, the stars align for the next social disaster: your stomach growls. Loudly.

“Did you not have lunch?” Viktor asks.

“I… didn’t get around to it,” you admit.

“I won’t take up too much of your time, then,” he assures. If he knew just how much of your time he’s started taking up — and the fact that you wish you could give him what is left of it to him, too. “I would like you to work alongside me on my research. But if you don’t feel like you can squeeze another project into your presumably busy schedule, I understand. I would be glad to have you merely as… a colleague to consult with, as well.”

Is that even a question? He’s offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. You would be an idiot not take it.

And an even bigger idiot to turn down more time spent with him.

“You don’t even have to ask,” you joke. “Yes. I would be thrilled, Viktor.”

This is his first smile you witness when his pretty boyishness doesn’t shine through. It’s a gentle quirk of his lips, no teeth to be seen, just tenderness. It makes your heart leap to be the cause of it.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Thank you.”

Silence.

Just as you’re about to breach it — he does it first.

“Would you be free for lunch tomorrow as well?”

He watches you from below long, dark lashes as you give a breathless yes.

—

“I brought you something.”

It’s the last thing you expect as you step into his office at noon, upon exchanging hellos.

You’re alight. With curiosity, above all else. And with worry — why would he bring you something? What will you do to reciprocate?

“Thank you,” you say, though you have no idea what for just yet. “What is it?”

“I saw you eyeing my borscht yesterday.” There’s a glint in his eye that suggests more, so much so you can’t decide between flirting or digging a hole for yourself in the hardwood floor of his office.

The middle ground is standing in his office awkwardly as he unzips his backpack.

He retrieves two thermos bottles: the one you’re already familiar with, and another that looks older, more worn, and sorely lacks the sticker you’ve so come to love and fixate on and dream about. “I, eh, I made you some. In case you wouldn’t get the chance to eat before you came here.”

Your chest swells so much it hurts.

He made you soup?

“You… Viktor, this is… thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to. Have a seat.”

You practically jump into the seat across the table from his — a seat you’ve come to associate as yours, in spite of being well aware of the oppisite.

As he screws the bottle open and pours some steaming soup out into a paper bowl — god, he’d brought paper bowls — his eyes flick to you.

“But if you don’t care for borscht, you don’t have to—“

“I do care.”

And that rings true not just for the borscht.

It rings true for the soup he brings you the next day too, it rings true for every word that passes his lips. And it rings true for the time you start to spend in the insane coffee shop queue to surprise him with his preferred order and a slice of cake (a different one each day, until you figure out his favorite: cinnamon coffee), it rings true for the dark blue roughed up thermos he lets you take home the day you don’t finish the soup he brings you because you’re just so busy talking.

It’s November before you know it.

As the days grow colder, it’s not rare to be finding warmth by lavishing in Viktor’s attention as you ramble on about ideas — either for his research, or your thesis. All while he intently follows your thoughts with a smile, stopping just to shave another mouth-half-full’s worth off his cake of the day with his plastic spoon.

And once he savors the last bite, Viktor almost always flips it hollow side down, sliding it down the swell of his tongue within his mouth, removing it from between puckered lips. His cheeks hollow, he holds eye contact all the same, and it’s a mental image that haunts you. A mental image you project in your mind, nestled between the apex of your thighs. The thick of his tongue. The cushiony seal of his lips, the suction of his cheeks.

It never becomes any less distracting than the first time it happens.

You startle when Viktor speaks as he sets down the plastic spoon into the now empty packaging.

“I would like you to accompany me to the lab sometime soon. When would you be free?”

You’ve been before — but just a handful of times. Mainly for him to demonstrate or disprove certain guesses, or test conclusions you’d reached together.

“I’m free right now,” you suggest.

Viktor shakes his head. “I have a lecture in an hour.”

Right.

“I mean… I think we could make it in an hour.”

“I prefer to take my time.” Viktor leans back in his seat, stares thoughtfully at the clock on his wall for a moment. “Would seven PM work for you?”

“Uh…” you mentally go through your schedule for the day, “yes. It should. I might be a little late, though. How about… seven fifteen-ish?”

“Good.” The flow of the word is syrupy, yet his next sentence comes out surprisingly peppy with excitement: “See you then.”

—

Though you’re well into the final week of November, it never stops bothering you just how quickly the sun sets. By the time you get to the lab, the air’s gone cold, dry, and the darkness is heavy and thick.

Viktor waits for you just outside the university lab, under the halo of the street light — perhaps just a hint overdressed for the cold, in your opinion. It’s certainly trench coat season, though his is surprisingly long, reaching somewhere along the middle of his shins. The hand he hasn’t tucked in his pocket holds his cane and is clad in a leather glove. Around his lengthy neck, a red knitted scarf lays in chunky, impenetrable layers, reaching almost all the way to the swell of his top lip and his ears. You can hardly see his smile from underneath when he spots you — but his eyes give him away.

“Right on time,” Viktor’s tone has just as much pep to it as a few hours ago, perhaps even moreso. He rolls his shoulders, before he subtly nuzzles further down into his scarf, shying away from the biting cold. “Let’s get inside.”

He leads the way into the building, its warmth embracing you the moment you step in. The tip of your nose and your fingertips feel like they’re beginning to thaw, tingling just a hint. As you go to take off your coat, you notice Viktor isn’t in a rush. He rests his cane against the wall before he unwraps the thick, wide scarf from around his neck, folding it. He sets it on a nearby table, shucking off his trench coat, slender shoulders under a wool sweater. You watch closely as he then takes his scarf and stuffs it into the sleeve of his coat before he hangs it up.

There’s something stiff, painful, about how he moves. You wonder if it’s the cold.

“What?” He watches you with appeased amusement.

Caught red-handed, you jump, still halfway clad in your coat.

“Nothing,” you reply, scraping for a way to deflect from your obvious staring. “Not a big fan of the cold?”

“Never.” He says it like it’s a very serious matter. “I still don’t know how I made it through my first eighteen winters in St. Petersburg.”

“You grew up in Russia?”

He laughs through his nose like you’ve told him a half good joke. “What gave it away? The accent? The surname?”

“No, I just thought… Svoboda is a Czech surname.”

With how his smile turns knowing, self-satisfied, you’re suddenly back in his office again, uncertain and nervous and asking for a job as his assistant. He could taunt you with the knowledge that you’ve looked up his last name, embarrass you a little, play with you.

But he isn’t that man anymore — not to you. This time, he feeds your curiosity, albeit just with crumbs.

“My mother’s,” he clarifies. “Sidorov is Russian — my father’s.”

Oh.

“It’s nice that they used both their names. I’m assuming that wasn’t… common, back then, and back there.”

“It wasn’t, and they did not.” Viktor waits for you to hang up your coat, watchful gaze making your every movement feel loaded with static that’s about to snap. “I added hers when I changed my name.”

Changed his name?

The image of the sticker on his thermos turns up fresh in your mind, and you can’t help but wonder…

“Well? I was hoping we could discuss more in the lab, but if you prefer the coat hanger…”

Goddamn it. Focus. You need to focus.

“Sorry.”

You catch up, then slowly follow Viktor down the hallway, into the small lab he has been assigned. It’s one of the less grand ones, but it has all it needs — from a pretty new hexion accelerator to a humble whiteboard. It smells sanitized, sterile, ozonic.

You assume your usual seat by the whiteboard while he sets up. It still doesn’t feel… right to let him do all of that by himself, but he insists upon it, so, you stay out of his way. Viktor tidies up the space just a little, finding his goggles among the mess. He slips them onto his head, elastic pulling back his soft hair into a fluffy grey and brown mess. His cane thumps against the linoleum with every hurried step — though he doesn’t seem to be hurrying on account of you being there as much as excitement to show you.

Once he’s done, he sits in front of the accelerator, slipping his goggles on, and nods for you to come. Which you do — you’d be at his beck and call beyond just the academic context. For a moment, you pluck the inviting tilt of his head and the quirk of his lips out of their context, and you plant it atop your own bed, him in just a loose shirt, underwear, lax with freshly received pleasure. More comfortable than he’s ever been, all because of you. Beckoning for you. Come here. Smiling at you when your knee dips into the mattress, tucking his index under your chin as you crawl to him, reeling you in for a kiss.

“Come closer.”

God help you.

You comply with a wildly beating heart, stepping forward until you’re close behind his sitting form, watching the accelerator over his shoulder.

He smells nice. Like an indistinct, aromatic cologne, covering up the natural, gentle musk of his skin. You have to resist the urge to dip your head down and trace the tip of your nose along his spine, from where the bones of his neck show to where the scruff at the back of his head goes thicker, fuller. You wonder if he’d shiver as you let the scent of him imbue you… you wonder if he’d lean into it, if he’d tilt his head for you, let you dip your face into the slope of his shoulder, where his scent’s more potent.

The mere thought of him, vivid in your nostrils and clinging to your palate and the floor of your brain, rattles you with a shiver.

“I thought I’d rather show you than tell you,” he explains, wrapping both pale, bony hands around the handles of the accelerator. Steam hisses from the exhaust, flooding the room with more ozone, and gently, but certainly, the gem starts to spin behind the glass panel, beginning to levitate out of its socket, illuminating the room.

God, you should have put on goggles too, it’s making your eyes hurt. It’s a welcome reminder as to why you chose to spend most your days staring down a blackboard rather than the thing itself. The screen right above it is more of a familiar sight to you: numbers, reading the rotations per minute, as well as energetic output, steadily increasing.

It whirrs, magic static whirling up around the blue orb, electricity crackles.

You can see the appeal of this over a blackboard. But you’d still take the chalk. Especially considering the deafening noise.

Nevermind the damn goggles. You need to remember to bring some ear plugs.

“Watch the panel.” Viktor raises his voice over the hum of the machine, and turns to you, watching you from behind foggy lenses with a smile. You wish you could see the way his crow’s feet deepen. It rumbles harder, so much so Viktor almost has to shout the next thing he says, which is a shame, because his usually playful lilt is lost in the noise of it. “Not to… spoil the outcome of this experiment for you, but I implemented the conclusions we came to last week, and, it is safe to say…”

With a well-timed click and tug on a lever, the machine disengages, and the gem drops back into its socket under the influence of gravity. Its violating light returns to a faint, blue glow, like an artificially lit aquarium; fluctuating and undulating gently in its intensity. The potential energy indicator’s numbers climb back up, steadily, but faster than what you’ve seen before.

Much faster.

You can’t help but grin with excitement. “It’s regenerating fast.”

Viktor smirks at you over his shoulder like you’re sharing a sacred, intimate inside joke.

“It is.“

You await the verdict with a bated breath.

“How much?”

Viktor’s smile only grows, like he’s about to give you a present. And, all things considered, this is going to be one, in months’ or maybe even years’ time.

“A thirty-seven percent recovery after usage within an hour.” Viktor spins in the lab stool to face you with the theatrical self-satisfaction of a magician who just sawed his assistant in half and is waiting for the applause. You nearly forget to step back to give him the space for it, so much so your knees knock together. But there is no chance for you to apologize, Viktor is unbothered, sliding the goggles up his forehead enthusiastically, his show of complacency ditched in favor of pure excitement. “That is more than I’ve ever achieved thus far. Thanks to y—”

His voice sticks in his throat, turning into a pained hiss.

His hair’s tangled in his goggles.

“Oh, wonderful,” he grits out sarcastically.

A frustrated half-sigh half-groan rumbles in his chest as he pulls again and only makes things worse.

“Could you get me a pair of scissors? I should have some in the third drawer over there.”

“Wait. At least let me try first,” you insist. Reluctantly, you step closer, and after a moment’s hesitation, Viktor lowers his head for better access like a feral animal letting itself be pet for the first time. He sits still, the sound of both your breaths suddenly loud in the tall, quiet room as you’re forced to step even closer. “Could you…”

You nudge his ankles apart with the tip of your shoe.

He listens.

After a stuttering, fragile exhale, Viktor spreads his thighs.

You take the space offered. And you try not to think about kneeling, about making a home for yourself between his thighs.

“Do you think you can do it?”

You wish he’d asked you that about any number of things, except for the goggles tangled in his feathery, soft hair.

But yes. You think you do.

It would have been a terrible shame to cut it — though some shorter, bluntly cut hairs that sit a little further back near the top of his head tell you his suggestion was not the product of a new idea. Carefully, you pull whatever hairs are looser from between the lens and the bridge of the goggles, though a strand remains stubborn.

You try to ignore the warmth of his breath on your shirt, the intoxicating, soapy, yet distinctively human smell of his scalp, and the mesmerizing ratio of grey to dark brown, the subtle heat on the sides of your palms and wrists, resting on his head for stability.

As you separate another few hairs from the stuck strand and accidentally tug at them, Viktor has no reaction. Beyond swallowing thickly, and sitting through it dutifully.

You wonder if he’d act just the same, had you bunched his hair into the spaces between your fingers and tugged — simply biting his tongue and chewing through the pain — or if he’s leaned into the force, moaning with it, and god, you’ve hurt him, and you haven’t even apologized.

“Sorry.” You sound twice as genuine — mainly because you apologize for much worse than the inflicted pain. “Almost done.”

“The scissors would have been faster,” he half-jokes.

His voice sounds different. A hint more… strained. He shifts in the seat, wipes his hands on his slacks.

“Would have been a shame, though. You have pretty hair.” The last part of the sentence positively escapes you, and once you hear it, you freeze. Your brain scrambles itself trying to add something that will fix the inherent following awkwardness, the horrifying realization you just called your boss pretty, the fact that it’s true, the fact that—

Viktor flinches with another accidental tug of his hair, and so do his thighs — jumping with the surprise, clenching together until they squeeze around yours. But they’re gone just as fast, flinching away with horrified urgency. Before you get to savor the supple flesh pressing into your own in another new perverted way, before you get to imagine his ankles locking behind you, tilting and rubbing your hips into the hug of his thighs.

You need. To get. A grip.

“Sorry.”

You continue on in silence, and thank everything above he at the very least can’t see the way your hands shake, because he’s staring at the floor like he could drill a hole into it with just his eyes.

You should have gotten the damn scissors. As if through divine intervention, the rest of his hair comes loose not soon after.

“Okay. All done.” You smooth the slightly crinkled, but now free strand back down into the rest of his soft hair.

Viktor’s dainty features come into view from below his face framing pieces as he tilts his chin up. His lips quirk into a gentle smile, his eyes sparkle in the faint blue glow, soft shadows under the hollow of his cheeks and the swell of his lip and the tip of his nose and the bone of his brow. You wish you could immortalize him in whatever way he’d let you — a sculpture, a painting, a poem. He looks ripe for kissing, eyes half-lidded and twice as dreamy as he peers at you.

You’re going to see him like this in your mind’s eye later tonight.

Nestled between your thighs, or kissing down your stomach, molten gold under long, dark lashes, sitting atop carved marbled bone.

“Thank you.” He says it quietly — like it would break the sudden holiness of the moment to say it any other way.

He’s so warm.

You could kiss him. See what the ozone of the room tastes like in the slick of his mouth. You wonder if he’d let you, if he’d suckle your tongue into his mouth in a show of submission, or if he’d bite your lip, licking your teeth, pressing, pushing, make you earn the privilege to taste him.

You wonder if he’d hold you, or if his curious hands would roam, tracing the front of your stomach, or your spine, or press to the middle of your breastbone like he wants to see where you’d split open for him down the middle like a ripe peach. You wonder if he’d let you dip a hand down the front of his slacks, you wonder if he’d tilt his hips into it like he’d been aching for it, aching for you. Scorching your hand with want, materialized in slick or straining hardness. You wonder which it’d be.

From where you’re standing, the distance between the apex of his chin and the space where his slacks stretch between his thighs is small — and your gaze takes the leap, searching. But the material dips and curves in such a way that you’re left none the wiser, and with nothing but a disgusting realization.

You’re staring at your boss’ crotch.

You step back from the heat between his thighs, painfully awake, aware. It squeezes and wriggles in your chest like you have a parasite lodged in the chambers of your heart.

You’re disgusting.

You need to put an end to this.

“You’re welcome, professor.”

With that, you’re practically bolting from between his thighs, to stash the scissors away again.

You’re neglecting your job, you’re putting it in jeopardy. Putting yourself in jeopardy, risking all the rumors circulating becoming a shameful truth, you’re risking the first man who ever kept up with you, followed you where you wanted to go and took you further — you’re risking it all because he makes you unbelievably fucking horny.

And it’s absurd. Embarrassing. You need to get a hold of yourself.

“I was… thinking, actually,” you begin, and want to punch yourself over how Viktor perks back up from where you’d left him. “About some things regarding my thesis that I’d like your thoughts on.”

“Oh. Of course.” You have got to be imagining the subtle disappointment in his tone. The second you let yourself believe it’s more than just a figment of your make-believe, is the second you will be doomed.

Viktor, with all his years and experience, would and does know better than to fall for his assistant. You know he does.

“What’s on your mind?” He prompts after your prolonged silence.

If he knew the half of it.

—

You’re late.

And it’s a direct, shameful consequence of last night’s lusting, the time you’d spent frustratedly tossing and turning and thinking of his mouth and his eyes and his scent, before you’d given in past midnight, and humped your hand into completion.

Thinking about him under you, about pressing your face into his neck, about pressing him into the mattress and rutting into him until he gushes and his tired body sings for you and his voice cracks. Until he breaks for you, until pleasure itself oils and unscrews all the biological cogs of his body and he comes out unstrung, reborn.

Viktor’s in a wheelchair.

And he looks worse for wear than you’ve ever encountered him before, slumping in the chair and massaging his eyelids with his thumb and index, seemingly gathering his thoughts. He’s dressed even warmer than usual, in a loose but thick, dark red sweater. There’s a colorful knitted blanket folded and set over the tops of his thighs.

Viktor doesn’t acknowledge you when you come in and sit near the whiteboard, simply resumes his lecture as he regains his mental footing. And he goes on for a while, not sparing you a single glance, as he goes through powerpoint slides today, instead of his usual writing and hand drawn diagrams.

He’s at it for a while, not as fast as his usual pace, but undeniably concise, certain. Until…

“The energy output increases proportionately to the spin, and, with powerful enough matrices, some hexgems can create force fields of their own. This is a particularly common phenomenon in unstabilized gems as well, though with the activation of their force field, those tend to also create… eh…”

Viktor stops, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. He frowns, mumbling something in another language, which, judging by the heavy consonants and squeezed vowel, you’d assume it’s Russian. The word must be slipping his mind, so you decide to help out.

“A shock wave.”

Viktor’s gaze cuts. He’s looked at you with disinterest before, sure, but this…

He doesn’t even turn his head to look at you, just eyes you from the corner of his vision like something unworthy of acknowledgment. You wish you could swallow your words back up.

“Yes,” he says. “Thank you. A shock wave.”

You don’t say anything again for the rest of the lecture.

Once the door falls shut behind the last few students who have left the room, Viktor turns to you. You wish you could shrink; and it feels like you do, when he finally speaks.

“I appreciate your intention to help — but do not interrupt me again. I know what I’m trying to say.” He sounds utterly unlike himself, both spent and angry. “I don’t need help. Especially not in the middle of a lecture.”

“Sorry.”

That alone softens him up a hint. He looks away, rubbing his thumbs against the wheels of his chair, before he speaks again. Calmer.

“Just… do not let it happen again.”

As he slumps in his seat, massaging at his temples, you understand that his anger… might not have been as directed at you as you’d initially thought. He’d been snippy when his back hurt — having switched to a wheelchair must mean he’s in a lot more pain now.

And you understand his frustration. He’d just gotten himself an assistant a few months back, and started a new project — looking like he requires help in front of his students is certainly not doing his reputation right now any favors.

“But if there’s other things I can do to make your day a little easier, I’d like to do them.”

“No, thank you.” He shakes his head, before he grabs both wheels and advances to where he’d left his bag. As he starts packing his things, he stops again, quietly groaning somewhere in the back of his throat. “Where did I put my pen…”

Viktor eventually finds it right behind his water bottle on the table, tossing the both of them into his bag, shutting it tightly. You expect him to wheel himself over to the ramp that leads to the exit, but he just hangs his head, massaging at his temples again, before he looks at you.

“Actually, I’d like it if you went to my office and got me a silver tin box in the… fourth drawer on the left side of my desk. Do you have the key with you, or should I give you mine?”

“I have it. I’ll be quick.”

“Thank you.”

And you deliver on your promise. You don’t run, but you power walk there, and you’re back with (hopefully the right) tin box in the same lecture hall before his break ends.

Viktor takes it from you gladly, popping it open. It contains two foils of painkillers, one already half empty, a small ziploc bag of… gummies, and at the very bottom, some dark chocolate.

You must have pulled a bit of a face at the contents — particularly the gummies — because Viktor cocks a brow at you, before he faintly chuckles under his breath and pops three painkillers in one go.

After depositing the foil back in the box, he fishes out the dark chocolate bar. It looks to be the expensive kind, something Belgian — Viktor breaks off a piece, putting it in his mouth, before he holds it out to you.

“Peace offering,” he clarifies when you hesitate.

You’d be a fool to turn him down. You take some — it’s rich, buttery, and melts on your tongue. It coats your mouth with its taste, dark and aromatic and unfortunately not as sweet as you thought Viktor preferred. He’d always favored the almost disgustingly sugary cakes.

“Didn’t think you’d like something so bitter,” you say.

“I do not. It sometimes helps with my migraines,” he tells you. “Sugar makes them worse. A very… devastating discovery to make, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

You wonder if right now is the right time to be curious — and you decide it might be.

“Do the migraines also affect your leg? Or the other way around?”

“No.” Viktor shakes his head, popping off another piece of dark chocolate. “This,” he gestures at himself, the wheelchair, “was just a very unfortunate… overlapping.”

“Oh.” You grimace in sympathy. “Fun.”

“A punishment for it, more like.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Let’s hope my migraine eases up on me throughout this lecture.” He smiles at you — and for the first time you’ve known him, he looks old doing it. Exhausted. The face of a man who’s seen enough hardship for a lifetime, but has yet to cave under it.

You wish you could hold him. You wish you could melt it away, kiss it better, love it better. Whatever he’d let you.

You surprise both him and yourself when you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and let your thumb rub a small circle over the wool.

Though he flinches at the first contact, once something in his brilliant mind unfurls and settles, so does he. Through the cracks, tenderness shines under the fatigue. Viktor can be soft — in spite of everything im his body and his past that protests against it. “Thank you.”

You take your hand away sooner than you’d like — but at the ideal time to keep it from being anything more than a friendly touch.

“I’m glad I could help,” you say.

—

Viktor isn’t there at all next week.

You come in on Monday to find his office empty during lunch break, and when you attend his lecture, it’s another professor from his department teaching it. The students don’t seem all too excited about the change either — and you leave before it even starts.

Heimerdinger is none the wiser about Viktor’s situation when you talk to him — in spite of their shared history. He simply tells you he’d taken the week off and had arranged for substitutes.

You consider messaging him… and ultimately end up doing so, after some internal debate. You simply text him to get well soon and that you hope he’s getting some well-deserved rest. He replies with just a plain thank you.

Tuesday is quiet. You receive a stack of midterms you need to get through from the substitute, and you do, by Thursday morning. Which is when Heimerdinger messages you.

Dr. Prof. Cecil B Heimerdinger

Good morning! I’m well aware this is on very short notice — but the substitute professor has unfortunately suffered a minor car accident. Not to worry; they only sustained small njury. However, I am finding myself forced to task you with Viktor’s lectures today. Do you think you could take care of that? Thank you.

-Cecil B. Heimerdinger

9:32

Just the thing you needed — teaching two full lectures, entirely unprepared.

Alright. You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You just need to find out what’s even on the agenda for today. You could text Viktor, right? If he answers on time, that is… he’s sick, he might as well be asleep right now. You could call, but… he said only to do that in the case of an emergency when he gave you his phone number.

Would this count as an emergency?

Your phone beeps.

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

There should be a black flash drive in the third drawer on the left in my desk. It has all my lectures.

9:34

Today’s topic is LHC segments naturally occurring in unstabilized gems. Feel free to use my work laptop to familiarize yourself with the presentation before the lecture.

9:35

Thank you so much!

9:35

His answer comes a few minutes later, just as you fish the flash drive out of his drawer, and plug it into his laptop.

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

Good luck 👍

9:42

It would be a lot easier to get caught up in the desire to snoop around on his laptop if you didn’t have less than 20 minutes left until the lecture. His background is disappointingly the default image, but some of his folders look undeniably tempting — not just the scientific ones, which take up most of the space. There’s some photo albums titled with the year and location: Germany 2011, Czech Republic 2009, among many others. There’s also a photo album titled Persichka.

Who is that?

You almost click it. But then you check your watch again and realize you only have 15 more minutes until the lecture, and decide against it.

—

For how utterly unprepared you are, it goes surprisingly well. You stumble, once or twice, but you’re glad to see that even by the end of the lecture, you still have most students’ attention.

After you dismiss the class, you don’t expect questions. But a good handful of them, a little under ten, approach your desk, whispering among themselves, before a hastily appointed representative emerges.

“We were just wondering,” she awkwardly begins, “if professor Sidorov-Svoboda is alright. And when he’s coming back.”

“Oh.” You hope they’re asking because they understandably prefer him, and not because you did a particularly shabby job. “He texted me just today — he’s doing alright. But I can’t give you an exact estimate for when he’s coming back just yet.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

With that, all of them turn to go. After the last student has left the room, you reach for your phone, and pray you don’t see any other day-altering messages today.

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

I did not mean for you to have to do this.