#public do not understand the challenges they face every day

[suskz]

Saw jockchan x nerd reader. I was wondering if you could write something about swim captain Chan x quiet female reader ?

pairing: SwimCaptain!Chan x Quiet!fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; semi-public sex ; secret relationship ; oral (f!rec) ; jealousy ; exhibitionism kink (but no exhibitionism) ; unprotected sex (be smarter, don’t do that).

w/c: around 1,8k

a/n: It’s 1:45 a.m. here, I’m going to sleep now. Hope you like it! ♡

18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There are 25 minutes left until the end of the training session when you arrive.

"Come see me at training today, it will bring me luck for tomorrow’s championship." This was his sweet request this afternoon, and you naturally said yes; it's just a pity that you arrived an hour late.

Your quick steps to take a seat in the stands can’t be heard by the guys as they talk near the pool, but Chan notices you the moment you enter.

His head turns in your direction and he smiles at you, waving a hand at you. You do the same, returning the greeting.

Immediately, his eyes shift to Changbin and Jisung though, members of the team, who seem to be arguing, and he approaches them.

It doesn’t take you long to understand that they were arguing about who is the fastest swimmer of the two, as shortly after they are giving each other challenging looks as they get into position and enter the water when Chan gives them the signal.

You like seeing him in leader mode in moments like this. It’s extremely hot, but also really cute when he turns in your direction to look at you, shaking his head in exasperation, making you giggle.

But your attention shifts a little further away from you when you hear a girl speaking.

"Did you see him? Now you can’t say he isn’t gorgeous." One of the two girls says to the other.

“He’s freaking perfect, oh my God,” the other girl comments. “What did you say his name was?”

“Bang Chan; I’ll give you his Instagram.”

Your teeth clench at the last sentence. Are they talking about Chan? Your Chan?

The same Chan who kisses, fucks, and cuddles you every day?

You briefly consider letting them know. You should turn to them and tell them to their faces, but there’s something holding you back, keeping you still. And this thing prohibits you from letting them know how things really are, so you sit there in silence, enduring their annoying compliments about him for what feels like endless minutes.

Yes, his body and muscles are stunning. Yes, his voice is sensual and his laugh is sweet. Yes, he has an irresistible gaze. Do they really need to keep repeating that?

When the training ends and you think you’ve finally gotten rid of them, they’re in front of him before you can make a move.

You watch them from afar, standing and waiting, trying to appear as normal and indifferent as possible while they congratulate the captain for his hard work as a leader. Ah, and also for his hard work in the gym.

He chuckles with his dimples showing, first shaking his hands in front of himself in a gesture of denial, but ending up scratching the back of his neck as he thanks them cordially. The two girls look at each other and giggle.

But a few minutes later, it’s you who finds yourself in the locker room with him, his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, feverish and needy.

“Were you jealous?” He grins teasingly, but deep down he feels immense tenderness and perhaps a little embarrassment knowing that you love him so much that you can’t stand other girls complimenting him in that way.

You don’t respond, looking at his bare chest and hoping he’ll stop.

His smile grows, “I saw how you were looking at them, your eyes were burning flames.” He stifles a chuckle as you raise your head with a guilty expression.

“Was I that obvious?” You ask, your cheeks starting to blush, embarrassed by your exaggerated reaction.

“Yes, but I like it.” He leans in to kiss you again, but soon his hands slip under your shirt and you break the kiss.

“Chan, we can’t do this here.” you whisper against his lips. All the other guys from the team are just meters away, taking a shower. You risk being heard, and you don’t want that to happen.

“But I need you now.” he whispers on your neck, starting to leave warm, wet kisses.

You don’t respond, but you tilt your head to give him more space and don’t stop him, and he takes this action as agreement.

He licks and sucks on a patch of your skin, leaving a red mark that will be prominently displayed for days. He might get completely hard just at the thought of you walking around with the mark of his presence on your body, even if others don’t know whose it is.

He pulls away and admires it, then gives it one final kiss, making you hiss from the slight pain.

Needy, his hand grabs yours and pulls you into the bathroom. You don’t resist; you follow him, silent, and together you enter one of the showers, closing the curtain. The one in the corner, with an empty shower next to it.

And then, Chan turns on the water, wetting both of you, although not completely.

“Chan, you finally came in, why did it take you so long?” Changbin yells from a few showers away.

“I just had a moment with Y/n.” Chan responds casually, as if he weren’t currently lowering your shorts and underwear at the same time.

“Oh, she’s already gone?” This time it’s Jisung’s voice.

“Yeah, she went back to the dorm.”

There’s something, something that arouses both of you at the idea that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing while his friends are there, just meters away from you, unaware.

His fingers move skilfully between your folds, rubbing your clit with one finger quickly while two of his other fingers hold your pussy lips open as your hips move back and forth instinctively.

When his fingers enter your cunt, they do so easily from how wet you are and from all the times his cock has been inside you.

You take his face in your hands to bring your lips closer to his ear so you can talk to him, “We don’t have time, put it in already.” You whisper, and his cock twitches in the tight shorts he’s wearing, reminding him of how damn tight they feel.

He withdraws his fingers and turns you around, replacing them with his dick, entering you slowly to allow you to more easily suppress any sounds that could be heard by the others.

His hands hold the lower parts of your cheeks to spread them apart to get in deeper as he moves inside you. It’s not the best position, but you can’t bend over because you’d risk slipping.

Your moans are silent. Your heavy breaths are fortunately hard to hear with the shower water running and their voices humming.

Chan tries not to fuck you too hard to avoid the sound of your skins slapping together. Because you’re not alone, and no one must hear you. Even though, maybe, he actually wants someone to hear you. He wants someone to find out about the dirty things you’re doing without their knowledge, right there near them. Maybe he secretly wishes someone would open the shower curtain and see you in this situation.

And maybe you want it too.

But these thoughts don’t stop both of you from freezing at the sudden sound of Hyunjin’s voice. “Does anyone have shower gel?”

His movements pause only for a moment. He should feel embarrassed, mortified to hear his friend’s voice so close to you in such a situation, but instead, it sends a jolt of pleasure to his cock, and he immediately starts moving again.

You look at him with an expression now fearful, but this arouses you as much as it does him.

Jeongin’s voice is quick to respond, “I do, here it is.”

“Thanks Jeonginnie, love you.” Hyunjin thanks him in his sweet voice.

Chan pulls out of you, but before you have time to say anything, he turns you around, grabs your thighs from behind, and lifts you, pushing you against the wall. His arms slide under your knees and spread you open, re-entering you.

“That’s better.” he whispers against your lips, and you nod in agreement with quick breaths.

The pleasure intensifies for both of you. A soft moan escapes his lips, not being able to hold it back, causing him to bite his lower lip and hide his face on your shoulder, his ears turning redder as he failed to contain his pleasure.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling strands, causing his hips to buck up in a harder thrust, making your head slide back against the shower tiles.

It’s at this moment that the others start coming out of the showers, and soon they are out of the locker room after greeting Chan and telling him to hurry up.

When everyone is out, you both look at each other, then chuckle.

“I couldn’t hold back anymore.” you admit.

“Me neither.” he says.

“I noticed.” you tease, and he looks at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows in an offended look.

You clench around him on purpose, eliciting a needy moan from his lips. In response, he thrusts into you, and this time it’s you who whines.

“You’re as needy as I am.” he grins, resuming his movements. This time you’re a bit freer to let out your voice, but you need to hurry. His thrusts are faster now, reaching deeper spots inside you, being able to fuck you harder, eliciting a series of staccato moans from you.

“Touch yourself.” he orders and you immediately obey, without needing to be told twice.

His movements become more erratic. He’s close, and you can tell by the way his cock twitches inside you and releases small droplets of pre-cum.

His moans grow deeper, and he closes his eyes, trying to hold back from coming with all the self-control he has to make you reach your climax too, with him. But it’s difficult for him, and soon he has you back on your feet, giving a few final thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking his cock quickly through his orgasm.

He tries not to throw his head back in pleasure, wanting to see the ropes of his hot cum covering your pussy and thighs as you stand there with trembling legs.

Your mind is still fogged with pleasure, and you don’t notice what’s happening until you feel his tongue on your clit, which makes you let out a whimper. You look down to see your boyfriend on his knees with his head between your legs, looking up at you.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he pulls away, “You need to come quickly, someone will be coming for spot checks soon.” He warns you before returning with his tongue between your folds and two fingers inside you, stroking at your sensitive spot.

[mariasont]

Training Day - A.H

a/n: you all wanted more bimbo!assistant!reader and i'm a woman of the people so here we are

on a real note i love her and she is my queen

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you don't understand why hotch is giving you training lessons, but apparently he thinks you need it

warnings: talking about men following her in public YUCK, hotch trying to train reader, reader not knowing what's going on, cuties being cute

wc: 0.8k

"I still don't really know why we're doing this."

You were grumbling more than was characteristic for you, with every part of your body, your arms, your legs, and even your ass, suffering from a dull ache--sadly, not the result of any enjoyable pastime. After being knocked over more times than you cared to count, Hotch extended his hand toward you. You gladly took it, letting him pull you to your feet.

Your fingers deftly pulled at your pink tracksuit top over the sliver of abdomen that that had been revealed in your less-than-graceful take down. Hotch had pointed out the impracticality of your outfit when you showed up, but you stood firm on the principle that if early training sessions were expected of you, then your attire would be non-negotiable.

"Because I want to be confident in your abilities to defend yourself." His arms folded over his chest as his gaze bore into you, challenging you to contradict him.

"I'm just here to look pretty and answer your phones, crime-fighting isn't in my job description. That's your thing, Mr."

You shuffled back to your original position anyway, hands coming up to shield your face as you mentally sorted through the steps, or at least tried to, struggling to recall the correct foot placement.

"Shoulder width apart."

It's like he could read your mind. You were not entirely convinced that he couldn't.

"Crime-fighting doesn't have to be your thing," Hotch stated, narrowing the gap between you, his hands firmly correcting your stance. You sometimes found an excuse to stand just so, hoping he would step in to manhandle you into place. "But being part of the BAU, even peripherally, means you're not immune to risks. I need to know you can handle yourself... for my piece of mind."

"Sir, is this like, your super-secret way of showing you care?"

Your lips twisted into a half-smile as his hands clasped your waist a little tighter than necessary: a warning that said you were playing with fire. His fingers then moved to direct yours, positioning them closer to your face, his knuckles lightly grazing across your cheek in the process.

"Eyes on me, stay focused."

"My eyes are always on you, sir," you say, your head canting to one side. 

He released a controlled breath, giving you a level look that signaling you were pushing it. Nevertheless, you flashed him a beaming smile and initiated the move he had been drilling into you. The tip of your elbow made contact with the soft of his stomach.

He issued a muted groan as he intercepted your arm, preventing it from digging further, and in a fluid motion he spun you around, pinning your backside to his front.

"That was perfect, right?" you squealed, your fist shooting up in victory.

The sudden jump caused his hands to shift from your arm, finding a new perch on your hips to steady your... enthusiastic bounce.

You whirled in his grasp, the proximity sending a faint hum through his chest. Clearing his throat, he managed. "Yes, uh, that was it."

Clutching his shirt, the fabric crumpled beneath your purple-tipped fingers, you giggled. "Just imagine someone trying to follow me to my car now. They wouldn't know what hit 'em!"

"Is that a common occurrence?" The lines of his face gathered into that customary look of concern, that characteristic frown of his making an appearance.

He gently disentangled your hands from his shirt, not letting go, but rather laying his atop of yours.

"Well, sometimes, but I usually just call Morgan, put him on speaker, and he starts talking about the FBI stuff," you explained, giving a light shrug that nudged the zipper of your jacket down just a smidge. "They take off after that."

He clenched his eyes shut, pausing momentarily before reopening it. One hand let go of yours to adjust the zipper back to its proper position.

"That makes my stomach hurt." And it did. "Don't hesitate to call me when that happens. I'll come get you."

Your smile stretched ear to ear, potent enough to make him feel lightheaded. "You know, with all these trainings, who needs to call for help?"

"How about we compromise, and you still call me, regardless?"

You pout your lips, shiny with clear gloss rather than your usual pink. "That sounds less like a compromise and more like a you thing, ya know?"

Hotch's laughter rumbled from his chest, a warm, breathy sound, as he let go of your hands, which he realized he had been holding far longer than appropriate, and guided you to the door.

"You don't appreciate the added precautions I'm willing to take for your safety?"

Dragging your sneaker on the floor, you plucked your bag from the wall as Hotch closed the door behind you. "Gee, when you say it like that..."

When you walked down the hall you seemed to be perfectly in step.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @sarcasm-and-stiles

join my taglist here

[halsteadlover]

𝐀 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐧

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Could you please write a derek Morgan x reader smut where the reader and derek and the team obvi are on a case and while interviewing neighbors in the apartments the reader makes a stupid bet like "I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his 20s" and then it's the opposite and when they are back in the car derek makes the reader pay up but with her panties and when she goes to get them back at the end of the day it leads to smut.

• Warnings: a really brief mention of a murder case (it’s just a sentence), dirty talk, cuss words, making out, semi-public foreplay (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up you guyssss!!)

• Word count: 5.5K

• A/N: my first Derek fic 😭 I hope you like it guys, please let me know what do you think about it and also comment, like and reblog, it’d mean the world. Sending lots of love to everyone ❤️

What part of your brain thought it was a good idea to make a bet with Derek Morgan?

You didn’t even know why you did it, it must’ve been the pleasure of losing because there was no way on earth you would’ve won.

You and Morgan were about to go interview a witness for a case you were working on: a serial killer who was killing his victims by setting fires. You were walking next to each other while you thought of some way to make what was going to be a long and boring afternoon, interesting.

You and Derek had a, well… Particular relationship, to say the least.

Months prior you and him had started to have sex. It started out as a purely physical thing as you had always been very attracted to each other, but as time went on you found yourselves spending time together and enjoying each other’s company even outside of a sexual sphere.

Your relationship, both from a working and private point of view, had always been characterized by a playful banter, mischievous jokes, by the constant flirting so it wasn’t strange you both often found yourselves making bets aimed to make lose the other’s mind.

In fact, it was at that moment that you came up with an idea for a bet, however forgetting he took them so seriously it seemed like his life depended on it, especially since most of the time he won, and the penances were of a sexual nature. Of course you didn’t mind losing one bit.

“I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his twenties,” you said, pointing to the apartment where you were heading, ready to question the witness. He grinned and glanced at you, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Oh baby girl, you still don’t understand it’s a losing battle?”

“What’s the matter Agent Morgan, you afraid of losing?” You challenged him with the deliberate pleasure of teasing him and in fact he immediately gave in to your provocation.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly in amusement. You arrived in front of the apartment door that had the number ‘23’ on its sign. You were standing facing each other while he thought about the penance, he would’ve make you do if you – most likely – lost.

Another evil, mocking grin appeared on his lips, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “You’ll give me your panties when you lose.”

“If I lose.”

“When. But you can still back out.”

“Never.”

He held out a hand towards you but you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed over your body from head to toe, checking you out without shame. Over time you had learned to understand what he was thinking, what was hidden behind his look and you almost caught fire because you immediately recognized that look, it was the one he gave you when he was imagining you naked in every possible and imaginable position.

And in fact, you weren’t wrong.

Just the thought of having your panties in his pocket, walking around and smelling you, was enough to make his dick stir in his pants.

You knew the odds of you winning the bet were slim, but your competitive nature made you shake Morgan’s hand, and he gave you another one of his panty-ripping smiles.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, don’t take the victory for granted.”

He raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “I would never dare but be realistic darling. Do you know how low the odds are?”.

“What if I win?”.

“You won’t.”

“What if I win?” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shrugged, very sure he’d win. “You’ll choose the penance.”

You thought about it for a moment and a mischievous smile appeared on your lips this time. “I’ll do a strip tease and a lap dance.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “How is that a penance? Baby I’d drop on my knees right now to make this happen...”

“…But you’ll be handcuffed, you won’t be able to touch me and I won’t make you come.”

He opened his mouth wide, feeling his dick twitch just at the thought. He had to force himself to think of something else since he didn’t want to question a witness with a raging hard on but it was awfully difficult when all he could do was imagine you strip teasing and grinding on his lap. “Fuck I don’t know if I should win or lose.”

“If you want to end up with blue balls then you have to hope to lose.”

You knocked on the apartment door, still maintaining eye contact with Derek and trying to hold back your laughter since you knew exactly what he was thinking. You took your eyes away from him only to let them travel down his body and to the crotch of his pants which was clearly prominent at that moment. You bit your lip as you looked back at his face and he glared at you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, feeling the situation getting even worse. Damn it, he felt like a damn horny teenager.

Before you could respond to his comment the door opened, revealing a person who couldn’t be more different from the object of your bet. He in fact was a she, a lady who couldn’t have been less than sixty years old.

Your smile dropped as the one on Derek’s face grew even more and, as you had already said, you wondered what part of your brain had thought it was a good idea to make that bet.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” she looked skeptically at both of you.

“Oh yes ma’am, you just made my day so much better,” he replied softly but glancing at you. “We’re FBI agents, may we ask you few questions?”

Over the next hour and a half you interviewed other witnesses near the fire scene and on your way to the car, Derek wouldn’t stop trying to get close to you and touch you.

“Derek stop it! We’re in public! God you’re so unprofessional,” you slapped one of his hands away that had been squeezing your ass for the last couple of minutes, trying not to laugh.

“There’s nothing professional about what we do, baby girl,” he replied with mock annoyance, “Plus I can’t help it, I can’t wait to rip your panties off.”

“Nuh uh mister, the deal was that I have to give you my panties not you taking them off me.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes as you approached the car but before you could get in he grabbed your hand and turned you towards him. He placed his hands on your face and as he pushed your back against the car door he crushed his lips on yours.

He didn’t care about passers-by in any way, in people’s eyes you might have looked like a couple who was passionately making out.

After the first few seconds of surprise, you immediately kissed him back, parting your lips and letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew it was totally unprofessional to kiss your colleague in broad daylight while you were doing your job but all it took was for him to get close for you to lose your mind, no longer able to think clearly.

Your hands moved down his chest to encircle his waist, trying to pull him closer to you than his body already was. Your mouths moved in sync while he seemed to want to suck his soul out of you and although you were now used to kissing him, every time it was as if it was the first.

You almost moaned into the kiss, your body already on fire, wanting more. You wanted him so badly, you wanted his hands, his fingers, his mouth and his tongue all over you.

“Derek please…” you sighed when you broke away, his face still dangerously close to yours.

“Get in the car princess,” he ordered and his voice was so low and seductive that if he had asked you to give him a blowjob right there on the sidewalk you would’ve dropped on your knees without the slightest hesitation.

He opened the door for you and you giggled like a teenager before getting in, thanking him as you watched him walk around the car before getting in too.

“I would’ve fucked you in the car here and now if we weren’t in public. You’re so fucking hot baby,” he whispered against your lips after moving closer to you and taking your chin between his fingers. “But I’ll settle taking your panties off for now.”

He placed a hand on your breast and groped it before sliding it across your stomach to your jeans-covered pussy. You moaned as he began to touch you, making you squirm under his expert fingers.

“I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you honey?” He continued to tease you.

“Fuck Derek… They’ll see us…”

“You’re right,” he replied, stopping touching you, causing you to moan and grunt at the same time. “No one should look at what is mine.”

God Derek Morgan and the things he made you feel. You were starting to really hate him.

“You’re having so much fun aren’t you?”

He started the car but not before throwing you one last mocking and sexy as hell grin. “You have no idea how much.”

You squeezed your legs together in anticipation feeling the urge and desire grow more and more. You continued to look at him as he drove, observing every feature of his perfect profile with your hungry eyes.

How could someone be so perfect?

And it didn’t help he had one hand resting on your inner thigh as his thumb was stroking dangerously close to your intimate area. You didn’t know whether to hate him, to beg him to go higher or both but certainly the smug expression on his face made you want to punch him.

Derek drove to a hidden, dead end road, not caring the rest of the team was probably waiting to hear from both you and him.

He kissed you breathless again, threading a hand into your hair. But he didn’t stay there for long as he moved down your chest again, wasting no time in groping your breasts again, until he reached your pussy again.

“God Derek you’re driving me crazy,” you hissed as you struggled to keep control. He kissed you again and unbuttoned your pants and you lifted your hips before your brain could even process the movement, allowing him to slide them down your thighs. You took off your shoes, slipping your pants off.

He slipped his hands into your underwear and a loud moan escaped your lips that Derek felt right in his dick. “As I imagined… So fucking wet.”

“Fuck yes just like that,” you sighed as his fingers drew circles on your clit. You gripped the sides of the seat as if searching for a leverage, pleasure flowing through your veins.

He knew where to touch you, he knew HOW to touch you, what to do to make you lose your mind and control.

“I'm dying to taste this pussy, look at you soaking up my fingers,” he whispered in your ear, pressing his lips to your neck and sucking on your skin but being careful not to leave any marks. The team already didn’t give you any respite suspecting there was something between you, he certainly didn’t want to give them clear proof.

Two of his fingers slipped easily inside your wet pussy, curling inside you and touching that spongy spot that made you moan and thinking you were about to ascend to heaven.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes,” you kissed him, spreading your legs even more to give him more access.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl loves being so dirty, letting me finger this pussy in public.”

You dipped your head back in pleasure, feeling the orgasm already building inside you.

He pulled his fingers out and you grunted at the loss and took off your panties, bringing them to his nose and deeply inhaling the scent that drove him so crazy: you and sex. “Now I really don’t know how I’m going to go through the whole day without being hard knowing I have your panties here,” he spoke up as he stuffed them into his pocket. “But we should go back.”

What?

“Derek you can’t leave me like this!”.

“Oh I can and I will, we shouldn’t let the others think we might be doing something shouldn’t we?”

“You fucking piece of shit.”

He burst out laughing and you nearly punched him in his handsome face.

You were furious. Irritated.

You were furious, irritated but above all horny.

After that little stunt he had done in the car Derek had really left you like that, without an orgasm and with a mad desire to fuck.

The rest of the day was torture, especially having to work with other people while pretending you didn’t feel like you were on the edge the whole time. You didn’t spare Morgan some dirty looks after which he had to force himself not to laugh but he didn’t spare you those languid looks full of lust either.

It wasn’t easy for you but it wasn’t easy for him either since, unlike you, couldn’t hide his excitement so easily. Knowing he had your panties in his pocket and the memory of your wet pussy were giving him no respite.

In reality, you both loved that little game, teasing and torturing each other until the other lost his mind, even if… To be honest, wearing jeans without underwear was complete torture.

At the end of the day, when you were finally all in your own room, you took the opportunity to take a shower and put on a dress and the sexy lingerie you had put in your bag before leaving for the new case.

You giggled just thinking about Derek’s reaction.

You went to his room, knocking twice before he opened the door making your jaw drop and almost fall to the floor when you realized he was naked and only had a towel around his waist.

His body was still wet, sign he had just gotten out of the shower, the drops running down his sculpted chest that you wanted to lick off one by one.

“Oh man…” He sighed. “You’re breathtaking baby,” he began, shamelessly scanning your body from head to toe, a smirk on his lips. “I was wondering when you were coming.”

“You always opening the door like this, Agent Morgan?” You asked ironically before entering his room without even waiting for him to invite you.

“Woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going baby girl? Where is my kiss?” He scolded you, almost truly offended after closing the door behind him.

You giggled, but unable to take your eyes off his body and stop them from wandering hungrily over his figure.

“No, dry yourself first and then I’ll kiss you,” you replied before going to sit on the edge of the bed, placing your hands behind you on the mattress and tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.

He didn’t answer but came closer to you and placed two fingers on your chin, forcing you to lift your head and pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss that took the air out of your lungs.

“Jealous Agent Y/Ln?” He whispered an inch from your lips, referring to your initial question after making you get up from the bed.

“Not even a little bit, it was just an innocent question agent Morgan.”

Absolutely. You were 100% jealous.

But you knew from the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a twisted, mischievous smile he didn’t believe it one bit. “You know, being a profiler I thought you were better at hiding emotions. Lies don’t look good on you pretty girl.”

“That would be true if I had told a lie but that’s not the case, I’m not jealous at all,” you said with a confident tone as your gaze alternated between his eyes and his lips. He was so close and so tempting you felt like you were already losing patience.

“To answer the question, no, I don’t answer to anyone. Just you.”

“You? Derek Morgan?”.

He chuckled. “Strange right? But it seems like you’ve done some weird witchcraft on me because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You already got in my pants, no need to be cheesy,” you retorted, biting your lip to keep from smiling.

He sighed, slightly shaking his head. “Always so cynical. What should I do with you?”

“Give me back my panties?”.

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten what the word ‘lose’ means?”.

“If I had known you liked them so much I would’ve bought you a new pair to wear you know.”

“You think you’re so funny don’t you?”. He grabbed your face with one hand, his mouth dangerously close to yours but never touching it.

You nodded with a smirk as you watched as his eyes were fixed on your lips. “Maybe you might like what I have now better.”

You took a step back and the look of pure confusion on his face was replaced by astonishment when he saw your hands lower the thick straps of your dress down your arms, then lowering the side zip and letting the dress fall around your feet.

The look of shock on his face was something you’d never forget.

Derek widened his mouth and eyes, letting his hungry gaze travel along your body wrapped in lace lingerie, studying every curve and inch of your skin. A warm feeling spread in your lower abdomen and it was amazing how just the way he looked at you was enough to turn you on.

“Holy shit…” he breathed out, “You… Are… You… Holy fuck…” he continued stuttering, unable to form a single meaningful sentence.

“Wow did I really manage to surprise Agent Morgan?” You giggled, your cheeks flushed and stomach filled with fluttering butterflies, knowing you had such an effect on him. Derek Morgan – the man who with a single smile and a look could’ve make rows and rows of women fall at his feet – was drooling over you, looking at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world.

“I’ll answer you when some blood returns to my brain.”

Your gaze trailed down his body and your insides clenched at the sight of his prominent erection beneath the towel around his waist. Your mouth watered just thinking about what was underneath that single fabric, imagining his dick in your mouth, in every hole in your body as he filled you completely.

“You look spectacular Y/n, my god” he murmured, his chocolate brown eyes still on your body and never on your face. You could see him struggling in not knowing what to pay more attention to, your breasts which were perfectly highlighted by the lace that gave that see-through effect while it showed the shadow of your nipples, if the hold-ups that surrounded your thighs that Derek wanted nothing more than to mark and bite or your pussy also covered in matching lace in which he wanted to dive and feed on it until he drown himself to death.

Derek moved closer to you, closing the small distance between the two of you. “Turn around. Show me this beautiful ass that torments me in my sleep.”

The tone of his voice alone made you almost beg him to do anything he wanted. You didn’t have to be told twice and you turned around, your skin on fire as you felt his penetrating gaze on you as he observed and studied every millimeter of your body.

You heard Derek exhale a deep breath behind you. “A fucking goddess. You’re absolutely mesmerizing.”

A rush of shivers gave you goosebumps as he placed his rough hands on your arms, stroking them slowly before moving up and moving your hair from your shoulders and letting it fall along your shoulder blades, leaving your neck exposed. His lips began to plant kisses on your skin and the mere contact made you sigh and tilt your head to the side, giving him more access.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?” he whispered in your ear and you clenched your hands into fists, pressing your nails into your palms in an attempt to release the frustration you felt. Every second that passed while he didn’t touch you as you wanted there was a shred of your sanity that was shattered.

You shook your head, realizing you hadn’t answered yet.

His hands went down your arms again, then moving up your hips until they reached your ass. You let out a gasp when his fingers tightened around the flesh of your ass, squeezing it, groping it with the sole purpose of torturing you and leaving you eager for more.

“God the things I want do to you baby, you can’t even imagine.”

“Do it Derek, do whatever you want to me… I need you.”

“I love feeling you so desperate for me.”

An empty feeling came over you as his fingers let go of your ass, moving to your hips. However, you moaned when he pushed his body against yours, pressing his erection against the curves of your ass and grinding against you without shame or restraint.

“Fuck Derek,” you murmured, now on the verge of losing your mind.

One of his hands ended up around your throat, forcing you to bend your head and rest it on his shoulder while the other cupped one of your breasts, palpating it over the top of your bra. You sighed, rubbing your ass against his hard dick as you couldn’t wait for it to stretch your pussy.

“That’s what you do to me, you make me so hard I can’t even think straight anymore.” He pinched your hard nipple from above the fabric. “You have no idea how much I want to rip this off of you but I know you’d kill me,” he chuckled in your ear.

“I don’t give a shit.” You blurted out, not evens embarrassed about how fast you said it.

“What do you want baby? Talk to me.”

God it was so damn hard talking when you were so horny you couldn’t even remember your name, the denied orgasm making things worse.

“You. Fuck me, please. I need you so badly Derek.”

He tightened his hand lightly around your neck, cupping your chin then turning your head towards him and before you knew it he slammed his lips onto yours, sucking the breath from your body as his tongue explored your mouth in a sloppy, deep kiss.

He slowly slid the fingers of his other hand – that until a few seconds before were on your breast – along your chest, your lower abdomen, touching your needy and drenched pussy with his fingertips. You whined during the kiss, spontaneously lifting your hips to try and meet his fingers.

God you were hating him at that moment.

“I can smell your wetness from here, is my baby horny for me?” he whispered on your lips swollen and red from the impetuous kiss.

“I’ll fucking kill you right now Morgan I swear to god.”

He laughed and your stomach clenched in on itself. “Don’t worry baby, I’m here. I’m going to fuck your brains out, so good you won’t even be able to get up when I’m done with you.” This time it was your pussy that clenched when you squeezed your legs together for some friction. Derek let go of your throat and began to play with your panties. Your breath hitched as he slowly began to lower them, trailing them down your legs.

“I think I’ll keep these too,” he whispered even as his voice came loud and clear to your ears. You turned your head to the side so you could look at him and let out a ragged sigh when you saw him kneeling behind you. His eyes shone under the light of the hotel room as they looked at you with so much intensity that they alone would’ve been enough to set you on fire.

He left a kiss on your ass, making you gasp to the point of embarrassment as he bit your skin and groped your now bare ass. “One day I’ll fuck this pretty little ass too and you’ll love every second of it.”

“You can start by fucking my pussy now.”

He chuckled again as he stood up. He placed a hand on your heated back, inviting you to lean on the bed in front of you and you obeyed, resting your hands on the bed and giving him a perfect view of your ass.

“I can see from here how wet you are baby girl,” he moved closer to you, his bare thighs touching yours and then you realized he had removed the towel from his waist.

God have mercy on me.

“I’ll eat this beautiful pussy later but now all I can think about is fucking her so good,” he said as his fingers brushed against you and this little contact, combined with his dirty words, made you squirm with anticipation. “After all, you deserve it after being such a good girl all day.”

You felt him place his tip near your entrance and you both moaned as he slid his dick against your folds, wetting it with your fluids. He provoked you, tortured you with every motion, it was what he was best at, he knew which points to touch to drive you crazy and leave you painfully longing.

“Derek please, I want you so much,” you whined in a pathetic tone full of lust and desire as he continued to penetrate you with just the tip and then pull out. You hated him and wanted him at the same time, so much it hurt.

“What do you want, princess?” His hands gripped your hips and he leaned over you, pressing his lips to your skin before leaving damp, wet kisses all over your back.

“Fuck me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth before lining his dick up with your entrance and finally filling you.

“Oh God yes, you feel so god Derek.” You panted vigorously, your heart beating so hard it almost stopped as you felt his soft and especially bare skin touching every corner of you.

He remained still for a few moments, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to maintain control of his body. You were so wet and it felt so good being inside you, Derek feared that with just one push he would’ve come on the spot.

“Baby please… Move…”

Baby.

Fuck.

That simple little word had no business making his insides twist like he had. You were used to calling each other nicknames, it wasn’t new, but there was something in that ‘baby’ you said: perhaps it was the vulnerability with which you pronounced it, breathless and as if he was the only one who could save you, the way your voice was so full of desire.

Derek pulled out before thrusting into you again with a strong thrust so deep if it hadn’t been for his hands firmly gripping your hips you would’ve probably fallen forward.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell you drive me crazy,” he breathed out, head tilted back and eyes closed as his dick pounded into you like he was angry.

You tried to formulate a meaningful sentence but as you opened your lips only gasps and moans came out. He was fucking you so deeply that with each thrust you felt a piece of your brain coming out of your head and your soul out of your body.

Exactly like he promised.

All the hidden frustration made its way and exploded like a time bomb, not much time passing until even the orgasm began to build inside you.

Your face was pressed into the sheets of the bed, your breathing heavy and quickening as your hands clenched the fabric into a fist. “Derek…” you whimpered in pleasure as you pushed your pelvis towards him with each thrust. It didn’t seem to be enough though, you wanted more and more.

One of his hands continued to hold your hips firmly while he slid the other along your back, until he reached your hair which he tightened in a fist forcing you to lift your head. His moans and groans sounded like music to your ears and you couldn’t contain the joy of knowing it was you who made him feel this way, it was you who made him lose control.

“Fuck I could stay inside you forever, you take me so well. This pussy was made for me,” he groaned as the tip of his dick hit your G-spot, making you see stars. You wanted to answer but when you opened your mouth all that came out were moans and sighs. “Just for me… You understand?”

“Just you baby, only you,” you babbled while loudly moaning, not caring one bit if someone could hear you having sex.

His lips kissed your shoulder, his tongue traced every inch of skin he could reach. “That’s right pretty girl…” he groaned in your ear, his sentence interrupted by another moan. “Fuck yeah you’re mine.”

“Holy shit baby… I’m about to come…” You managed to say and the orgasm that hit you full on like a truck gave you no mercy, didn’t let you escape as it sucked away your ability to breath. If it wasn’t for Derek’s hand still in your hair you would’ve collapsed on the mattress.

His thrusts became unhinged, even more out of control than they were before and it didn’t take long for him to reach his climax too. How could he resist? There was no chance, not when your pussy was tightening around his dick in the throes of orgasmic spasms, leaving him no escape.

Derek exploded inside you, emptying himself into you until the last drop of his seed filled your pussy, then leaking from your entrance and sliding down your thighs as he pulled out.

“Shit,” he breathed as you felt the weight of the mattress dip as he collapsed next to you. “You destroy me baby, how do you manage to do this every single time?”

You mumbled something nonsensical in response, eyes closed and too tired to say anything. He chuckled and stroked your hair, brushing it away from your face so he could get a good look at you.

You were so beautiful, ethereal, so mesmerizing it hurt and seeing that happy and pleased look on your face almost sent him to his knees, internally promising himself he’d fight every single person on earth just to always see you so relaxed and happy.

“How many women do you tell this?” you managed to say, opening one eye and keeping the other closed and a flock of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw the breathtaking smile he was looking at you with.

“If you think there is someone capable of making me feel what you feel, you’re very wrong. Like I already said, I don’t know what strange witchcraft you did to me but you really hooked me baby.” He propped himself up on one elbow and leaned towards you, pressing small kisses across your face, neck, shoulders and all the way up to your lips. “There is no one else since you came in in my life, I’m so obsessed with you it’s not even funny.”

You opened your second eye too, suddenly not so tired anymore. “Really?”

“Why, isn’t the same for you?” he asked, his stomach clenched with jealousy at the thought of a man laying a finger on you. “Please tell me no or someone help me I will kill every man who even looked at you, I’m an FBI agent and I know how to hide dead bodies in such a way that not even the families will ever find them.”

You burst out laughing, and rolled onto your back before throwing your arms around his neck so you could bring him closer to you and press your lips to his. “Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

“Y/n. Don’t fucking test me.”

“I’m just kidding,” your lips brushed against his before planting another small kiss on them. “There couldn’t be another man even if they forced me, you’ve really messed up my life Agent Morgan and I’m pretty much obsessed with you too.”

“That better be. We’re exclusive since the day I kissed you in that elevator,” he grumbled. “God I love when you call me baby,” he then sighed happily and the way his mood shifted so quickly made. Your fingers caressed his soft, perfect skin and he mumbled with contentment. You noticed how his pupils were so dilated the chocolate surrounding them had almost disappeared. “Mine, only mine.”

“And you’re mine darling, I’m an FBI agent too and I know a thousand ways to make deaths look like accidents.” He pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you so deeply your heart almost stopped in your chest.

Derek Morgan would be the death of you, you were certain of that.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll show you how much we belong to each other princess, how much I look, think and breathe for you only.”

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[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Night in Vegas- Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N had been Lando's PR, it had been messy and she moved to Red Bull, but maybe things were not as bad as she thought.

Warnings: Abusive Max (Sorry someone had to be the bad guy) smutty ending.

Notes: No hate to anyone this story just needed a villain.

___________________________________________

The moment the job offer came from Red Bull you didn't think it twice. You had been Lando's PR for the last 2 years, which was kind of a nightmare. He had the worst cases of verbal diarrhea, not that Max didn't but the paycheck was worth the extra work. Also, the interactions with Lando had always been weird and uncomfortable.

He was so nice and funny around everyone else but you, whenever it was just you two, you could hear the grass grow. In the beginning, you tried to get to know him, create somewhat of a bond so you could understand him better and work around that info, but every time you tried to get him to tell you something about him he would shut you out, keeping his answers short and dry.

And here you were, your first six months as Max PR agent were...interesting, he was a master in driving but thanks to his dad and the people around him, his public image was a challenge, a challenge you loved to work, at least you did until he started showing his real self. It began with small tantrums, mood swings when an interview had been scheduled when he had agreed to go play paddle, or that one time on a bad day when a reporter asked him about his dad's history with the law even when you had precisely warned them not to ask about any of that.

But that was all fun and games until tonight's event for the Vegas GP. Usually, the US GP's parties were a nightmare. Tons and tons of media people and influencers with little idea about F1. Yet they were important to attend because of the amount of rich people the teams craved as their lawful sponsors, so all the drivers were requested to go. This meant an awful fight with Max who hated these events where he had to "prostitute" himself for a couple of millions, it was particularly tricky now that some pictures and supposed messages showing Kelly might have been cheating, surfaced. You promised him to warn everybody that any questions about his personal life were off the table for any of the interviews, but American media cared little about that.

"Are you stupid or something?" His angry voice was so much like his dad's. Dry, hurtful, and insulting even when he wasn't using big curse words.

"Max, I told everyone personal questions were off the table. I sent a memo last week and a reminder this morning" You walked following him closely as he exited the event venue. Your heels making it difficult for you to keep his pace.

"I don't care!" He stopped and turned towards you abruptly, making you crash against his body. "If Christian gives me any shit about not being here I will make sure he knows this was all your fault" His voice loud and angry felt even more intimidating as he was towering over you, his red face so close to yours you could feel the heat radiate from it.

"But-"

"Shut it, I don't want to hear it" He spat.

"Hey, mate, easy" You both turned to look at the curled hair driver approaching at a firm pace.

"Lando, this has nothing to do with you"

"It does when you're talking like that to Y/N" He gently held your arm pulling you back, placing himself between you and Max.

"How did you deal with this shit for two years? she's the worst"

"I disagree, she's the best"

"What? Why are you defending her?" Max looked in shock from Lando's intervention, and to be honest, so were you.

"Because I know the mess you are and you talking to her like that is unacceptable and most likely uncalled for. We should've never let her go, I've begging Zak to get her back and after this, there's no way I'm letting her stay at RB"

"What the fuck? I don't...Wait, did you two ...? She must be a good fuck if you want her back so bad" A bitter laugh left his chest.

There it was, the angry verbal diarrhea.

You wanted to jump in and tell him you had never even crossed two complete phrases with Lando, how the hell were you going to fuck him? But no sound left your body, you were just a passenger in this trainwreck.

"Max, come on, It's not her fault your life's a fucking mess and that you have no idea how to deal with it. And take it from me, mate, you don't need a PR manager, you need a therapist."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Max took a couple of steps forward and faced Lando menacingly. He wasn't much taller than the Brit but seemed angry enough to cause damage.

"This is enough" You finally spoke, your voice shaky as you grabbed Lando's arm trying to pull him back. But he didn't move an inch.

"I'm not afraid of you mate" Lando hissed.

"Ok enough" You said in the most motherly voice ever and stepped in between them. "Lando, thanks but that's enough. You two don't want to do or say anything you'll regret later"

"See you on the track, mate" Said Lando as he took your hand and pulled you toward the parking lot.

You walked with him still in shock from the situation, expecting for him to let go of your hand as soon as you were out of sight from Max, but he kept going until he reached the Valet and gave him his ticket.

"Thanks fo that" You tried breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I think I need to go back there tho, I might not have a job tomorrow, but I don't need them to fire me because of not complying with my duties, Maybe I can find Max and convince him-"

"If they don't fire you, you're quitting" He said as he typed on his phone.

"What?! No, I can't do that, I can't afford to lose my job"

"You'll have a job"His voice was confident as he kept typing.

"Lando, I really-"

"Your car, Mr.Norris" The valet cut you off opening the passenger door for you.

"Get in" Lando walked toward the door to hold it himself.

"Lan-"

"Get in... please" He finally looked at you, something in his eyes telling you to do it. Not wanting to perform another scene now in front of the valet, you got inside the fancy McLaren. Your feet thanked you for the much-needed rest after the little sprint.

He removed his suit jacket, got in the driver's side, and drove off.

"I swear, you're not going to be jobless, you can stop with the bouncy leg" A hint of a laugh in his voice. Of course, he could laugh about it, he was worth millions, if he lost his job that same night, he'd have enough money to live comfortably for two lives.

Your phone started ringing in your bag. Chirstian's face on your screen made your heart beat a thousand miles. You could almost hear him, his calm yet angry voice made your skin crawl.

"Don't answer him, there's no need"

"Lando, you don't get it, it's not that simple"

A ding on his phone and a pop-up notification on his console screen called your attention.

Zak: Fine, I'm ok with it, we can talk details tomorrow.

"See?" He said smiling at the notification. You stared at him confused.

"I promised him I would behave my best for the rest of my contract if they took you back. Welcome back to Mclaren" A big smile on his face. It was odd being on the receiving end of that smile.

"Sadly, you won't be working with me. You will be part of the team's PR, I think that's an even bigger paycheck, tho"

"Ok, stop stop stop" Your voice filled with slight panic. "What the fuck's happening?"

"Wow, your first bad word" He was way too entertained with the situation.

"That you know of" Your facade was off, screw being professional, this moment was a moment for panic.

Christian's number shined on your screen again.

"Hello" You finally answered.

"Y/N, I just got a thousand messages from Max, and from the team at the event, what's going on?"

"Christian, Max lost it after some journalist asked him about Kelly, I had clearly said no questions about that were allowed"

"You should not have left Max to leave the party, we need him back there"

"I tried to stop him but-"

"No buts, Y/n, that's your job"

"No"

"What?"

"No, that's not my job, I'm not a babysitter, I'm a PR agent, I should not be dealing with tantrums and the equivalent of being spit in the face by an angry baby just because he's Max Verstappen"

You took a deep breath as the man on the other side of the phone kept quiet. Netflix would kill to have footage of this situation.

"I quit" You finally said

"What?" His high-pitched voice told you he was as surprised as you by the words leaving your mouth. You turned to look a Lando, he had the biggest smile on his face.

"I quit, Christian. I can stop by to sign my resignation tomorrow."

"But-"

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. I will stop by your office tomorrow to sign whatever is needed and to return my credentials. Have a good night" You hung up with shaky hands. As much as you sounded confident you were screaming inside.

"Nice" Lando's accent so thick.

"Oh my God" You placed your head between your legs and took deep breaths, trying not to faint.

"It's ok, it will all be ok" You felt his hand run softly up and down your back which felt weirdly soothing and calming.

You finally felt calm enough to lift your head, realizing he had pulled over at a truck stop next to the highway.

"What the fuck just happened?" You closed your eyes, the world felt as if it was spinning out of orbit.

"It will be ok, you were amazing"

"I will regret this tomorrow"

"I could help you with that" he said under his breath, you barely catching his words.

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, you'll be fine, you'll join the team for the next season, and you can take this time as a well-deserved vacation"

"What are you talking about? Maybe Zak only told you that so you would stop bothering him. I can't wait until the next season. Oh my God, I need to call Christian back, if I apologize and explain that I was drunk or something he might not fire me" you said as you fumbled with your phone trying to get your shaky hands to get your calls.

"Stop, no, Y/n" In a swift move, Lando took your phone from your hand.

"Give it back! This is all your fault!"

"What?!"

"If you had stayed out of this I might have convinced Max to go back to the party and none of this had happened" You said as you almost jumped over him to get your phone back as he moved his hand around keeping you away from it.

"Oh c'mon, you wouldn't have lasted two more weeks with his annoying ass, I love Max but he's a pain" He sounded way too entertained by all this.

"Lando, stop it! Give me back my phone!"

"No, you have to calm down"

"No, give it back" you were almost kneeling over the seat.

"Y/n, stop"

"No"

"Y/n!"

"NO, GIVE IT-" Before you could finish your sentence his free hand grabbed you from your neck and pulled you toward him, his lips crashed into yours, finally getting you to stop moving. You even stopped breathing.

After a couple of seconds or hours, you weren't sure anymore, he let go of the fist he had formed around your hair and pulled back. His cheeks flushed as if he had been the one who had gotten kissed out of nowhere.

"Have I been drugged? Am I hallucinating? This has to be a weird trip"

His particular laugh sent chills down your spine.

"C'mon, it wasn't my best job but I'm not used to kissing people as they're having a panic attack, I needed you to calm down"

"And kissing me was the best you could come up with?"

"You're not thinking about your phone or Christian anymore, are you?"

"You're sick"

"Listen, I'm sorry I did it like that, ok? I stepped over a boundary and I apologize, but I know that after this you might hate me for the rest of your life and this seemed like the only moment I was going to be able to do it, so I'm sorry but not really"

"You can't go around kissing people just because"

"I didn't do it just because"

"What?"

"Y/N, I'm fucking in love with you!" He screamed.

"What?" Your voice is barely a whisper

"I'm sorry, I was dumb ok?"

"I'm not getting any of this"

"Ok, I'll explain. It took me about 2 months to fall head over heels for you, ok? You're smart, incredibly beautiful, funny, and so good at your job, it was hard not to fall in love with you. But I know I can be an asshole, so trying to stay away from you and not ruin everything I behaved like an even bigger asshole, pushing you away and into Red Bull's arms. So as an apology, I've been having talks with Zak. this has been going on for months. So no this just didn't come up, Max just made it easier for me to set the plan in motion"

You stared at his proud face in awe.

"Are you breathing?" He asked when not. single sound had left your body for a long time.

"You're in love with me?"

"Um yeah" He blushed and almost looked away but he didn't.

"For the two years we worked together, you were in love with me?"

"Yeah, basically"

"You have a shitty way of showing love"

"Sorry" he laughed under his breath

"You're nuts"

"I know" As soon as he saw you had calmed down he stretched his hand softly caressing your cheek. "I'm nuts for you"

"Ew, don't"

He laughed, the sound making you feel something new.

"I don't know"

"What?"

"What's going on"

"Maybe another kiss might help? I'm actually asking this time"

"Ok" You answered in a low whisper.

"Ok" He softly whispered as he took you by the neck, and pulled you toward him. It was a mutual kiss now, your lips dancing with his. His tongue traced your lips and they parted allowing your tongue to start a fight with his.

The kiss heated up as his other hand grabbed your hips and pulled you over him. Your ass pressed on the horn startling both of you and making you laugh, but quickly you returned to your make-out session.

His hand shily traveled down your spine and stopped over the soft satin fabric covering your ass. You knew exactly what he was trying to test, so you moved yours down his chest, feeling his racing heart, and traveled down all the way to his pants. You could feel his growing bulge and you gave it a squeeze. He moaned deeply and he gave a slap to your ass, making you moan too.

You were about to unbuckle his belt but his hand landed over yours.

"Wait, do you actually want to do this?" he asked out of breath.

"Yes" Your voice shaky from the excitement.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you or-"

"Lando, I want you to fuck me"

Your words sent an electric shock through his body, you could even feel his dick twitch under your hand.

"I'm all yours" He smiled and moved his lips to your neck, you threw your head back giving him space to explore it and its sensitive areas. He gave soft bites around it, as he stretched to the glove compartment getting a condom out of it.

"You're a manwhore"

"I was just manifesting this"

"Sure" you answered squinting your eyes.

"I promise, You can ask Oscar, I've not had sex for months"

"I don't need to know that"

"Yeah you do, I swear I wasn't going to use this with anyone else, I promise"

He was most likely lying, but you decided to believe him, at least for tonight.

"Fine" You said as you took the condom from his hand and opened it as your lips went back to his.

He helped you by pulling down his pants and his boxers enough for his throbbing cock to spring out and slap his stomach.

"Hello Mr. Norris" You said with a cheeky smile

"Don't act so surprised"

"Sorry"

He now took the hem of your dark blue dress and pulled it over your hips, softly caressing the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. He moaned at the feeling of no underwear under it.

"You're naughty"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me"

"I love it" He said and bit your lower lip as he placed you over his hard cock. You took the condom and without breaking the kiss you rolled it over his dick, enjoying the feeling of the heat and the veins that ran through it.

He couldn't wait any longer and as soon as he felt the condom in place he lifted his hips entering you in one deep thrust making you moan loudly from the incredible feeling of being so full.

"Fuck, Lando" you said as he started thrusting. A slow yet hard pace made your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he held you one hand by the neck the other one caressing your ass.

"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect" He moaned against your tits that were spilling out your dress.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing you closer to your release.

You had forgotten when was the last time you had sex, but none of your previous experiences could compare to this one. Lando being a manwhore was quite a benefit.

His hips hitting against yours at such a perfect pace was driving you crazy. He could tell by the way you were pulsing around him that you were close. This was probably a record and he was going to savor it.

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and just a couple of circles helped by how wet you were pushed you over the edge, loudly moaning his name in his ear. That sweet sound looped in his brain, making him reach his climax shortly after.

"Fuck" he finally said after you two had reached a decent breathing pace.

"Shit"

"Fourth curse word of the night"

"Shut it" You said as you pushed yourself off his chest and kissed him.

"I'm going to love having you around again"

"Me too"

"Well, Max was right about one thing" A cheeky grin on his face.

"What?"

"You're such a good fuck"

"You're a dick" You slapped his chest as he pulled you back to kiss him.

This was probably going to be a mess, but at least for a couple of months you were unemployed and free to date whoever you wanted, that included F1 drivers who would probably be off limits once your contract started, but that was a problem for your versions of the future.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

[vashtijoy]

Thinking more about Akechi's rank 3, and about its flow into rank 4 at the jazz club—where Akechi begins to open up to Ren, by taking him somewhere special to him that he hasn't shared with anyone else.

Don't you think it seems off, on a first glance? Like it doesn't work? Because Akechi does not seem to entirely appreciate Ren's intervention. If you look at their phone call afterwards, it seems like Akechi lost control in the café, and is trying to take that back from Ren. He threatens him with what Ren "took" from him!—"I'll be dictating everything, from hair to accessories". Ren dictated the hair and accessories in rank 3, and now Akechi needs to do the same!

Make no mistake, this exchange, while cute as a button, is also Akechi struggling to regain some control that he feels he lost. He needs payback; he needs to meet Ren's challenge; he needs more.

So what's going on?

always in chains

As Akechi mentions in the engine room:

This line, of course, suffers in translation, so let's take a closer look:

Akechi 君は、今までの自分とか、人間関係とか⋯そういうものに囚われない。 kimi wa, ima made no jibun to ka, ningen kankei to ka… sou iu mono ni torawarenai You don't allow yourself to be enslaved by such things as human relations or past selves…

Did you understand this line on its first pass? Or at all? "Past selves"? What is this, Akechi, are we bringing in reincarnation now? What do you even mean by "human relations", is this a biology class?

Let's rework it a little. ima made no jibun—that's "the you until now". We might say "who you've always been". And ningen kankei—well, that is "human relations", translated very literally. But nobody would ever say that—it just means "relationships"! When you talk about your ningen kankei, you're often talking about your skills with relationships—how you get on with people. And Akechi gets on with people very well.

So what is he actually saying?

You don't allow yourself to be enslaved by such things as human relations or past selves… You're not a slave to expectations, or to how others see you.

Akechi will later tell us that these chains have bound him since his earliest days:

Those chains are the core of the resentment and envy he feels for Ren. More than anything Shido could potentially do to him, the expectations of others are what bind and torment Akechi. And this difference in how Akechi and Ren respond to outside pressure is one of the most important contrasts between them.

back to rank 3

So what does all of this tell us about rank 3, when Akechi is spotted by celebrity hunters?

In this situation, Akechi can't do anything but leave. He has to be the good boy everyone expects. He can't just sit there soaking up the adulation, and it seems clear that he isn't so inclined—look at the way he cringes away in his seat, and more to the point, look at his face:

Before he's accosted, his sprite and model match—he is probably genuinely pleased! But afterwards, though the sprite is sad, the model looks angry. Akechi can't confront his fans and ask them to leave him in peace. He can't dare to be angry with them, even though he's spitting tacks. He is chained—he can only ever do what people expect "Goro Akechi" to do.

Not just as a celebrity, but in every sphere of his life, even when he's carping to Sae or showing off for Shido, he is a slave to his public image—to the expectations others have of him. He cannot act outside that box. Society put Akechi in chains from babyhood—and his response was to own them, to build a bigger, better cell for himself. That he understands—he tells us how it works repeatedly!—and that he recognises, but can never escape.

So what is it that Akechi learns about Ren, in rank 3? It's that if you dare put Ren Amamiya in a cell, he'll tear it down.

Akechi could only dream of acting the way Ren does in this moment. Ren takes a huge risk here—on how Akechi will react, on how the crowd will react—and it pays off. Rather than submitting to the chains others place on him, Ren refuses to be bound. Ren is ungovernable.

Of course that's catnip to Akechi. Of course, even though it unnerves him, he wants more. He's drawn to Ren like a moth to flame—and this is the genesis of the bitter envy that will become so toxic by rank 8.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.1 (2024/10/06)—clarified some pronouns.

v1.0 (2024/10/06)—first posted.

[syd-djarin]

private eyes - jack daniels x private investigator!f!reader (18+ MDNI)

this is for @iamasaddie little lady kinky may challenge! congrats on 2.5k! <333 I was paired with Jack / Voyeurism.

banner by: @cafekitsune

tags: voyeurism (reader watches jack), masturbation (m & f), reader is a private investigator, gratuitous descriptions of my fav cowboy stroking his big cock, dub-con a little? reader masturbates in her car but there isn't anyone around so public but private

a/n: this is the first fic I've completed in months. it's short and to the point, idk how i feel about it but it pushed me out of my writing slump! kinda want to do a part 2 for this, what do y'all think 👀

wc: ~1.6k

smut below the cut

 “I want you to catch that son of a bitch in the act.”

The visibly scorned woman, Camilla, sitting across from you asks through tears, ones that she hasn’t allowed to escape down her cheeks; catching them right at the waterline with an overused tissue.

This isn’t the first time a disgruntled, mistreated, or betrayed lover has sought out your services — no shortage of shitty men leaving trails of destruction while they pillage and greedily chase their own interests. She’s no different, seeking closure from the broken-off engagement from her now ex-fiancée, Jack Daniels. The pair had been together for a year, engaged for three months and one day, out of the blue, Jack broke it off. According to her, he didn’t give a concrete reason, something vague about being consumed with his job and that “she deserved a better life than that”. 

Of course you get paid a pretty penny for your work, but you take great pleasure in catching a man in the act. Whether the woman needs proof for divorce settlements, custody battles, or to just have leverage. Whatever the case may be, you find a gratification you don’t get anywhere else; the upheaval of a man trying to have his cake and eat it too. 

The conventionally attractive woman you couldn’t pick out of a line-up slides her homemade dossier across the coffee shop table, tacky & sticky from previous patrons. You flip through the information presented to you, taking mental notes as you go. You can’t deny the heat that rises up your face as you study the picture of your next target. The deep sable eyes resembling a baby calf’s are staring at you through the glossy photo paper. He’s sporting a mustache reminiscent of Burt Reynolds that is calling your name. His smirk is laced with a charming cockiness. 

“He’s quite the looker, I know. Hell of a lay, too,” her words snap you out of your daydream. Her words feel hollow, his looks are the only attributes she’s mentioned during the duration of the consultation. You're not getting paid for moral judgements and you remind yourself you don’t know the whole story. 

“Which is why I want to know who he’s fucking. I know there’s another woman, or maybe even a guy… he’d answer calls in the middle of the night and step into another room and I swear I could hear a woman’s voice on the other end, he’d tell me he’s going on work trips… he works at a whiskey distillery, why the hell does he need to go on all these trips?” She explains, putting air quotes around ‘trips’ with her dainty, well-manicured hands, “he’d stay late at work a few nights a week, and then it turned into a nightly thing… Anyways, you come highly recommended, so I’m trusting you won’t let me down,” she adds. You’re not a fan of the passive aggressive, back-handed compliment she gives you, but ultimately you give her an understanding smile as you both rise from the table. 

“I’ll be in touch,” you tell her, as you exit. As cliche as that line is, you love saying it every time. 

Days of following Jack around have proven to be fruitless. The man has a simple routine: wakes up at six, traipses to the bathroom to begin his morning regimen of a showering, shaving and grooming his beloved mustache, and to conclude,  adorns his body in his tight denim jeans, a crisp button-down, a cowboy hat, and boots to match. You hate to admit it, and someone would have to waterboard this information out of you, but the hat is doing something for him. 

Or you. 

Whatever. 

He shops weekly on Wednesdays (he always puts the cart back inside the store, not the cart returns in the parking lot), takes the same route home everyday, watches Jeopardy while he eats dinner – you caught on quickly that he cooks during Wheel of Fortune, it appears he isn’t a big fan of Pat and Vanna, dishes promptly following Final Jeopardy and bed by nine. In three weeks Jack hasn’t had a single visitor, of any gender, leaves work at five like everyone else, the man isn’t adding up to be a cheating womanizer like Camilla had set him out to be. Not to say that he isn’t, but you’re not finding any evidence to support that claim. You’ve actually found yourself developing a crush on the man. He’s undoubtedly handsome, seemingly laid back despite his strict routine, and there’s something mysterious that lies beneath that you’re itching to unearth.

You’re parked discreetly across the street from his house. It’s a nice quiet street, with only two lamps to illuminate the surrounding neighborhoods, allowing you to stay shrouded in the night. 

You’re about to call it a night, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, when you notice a lamp turned on in the living room. Fortunately, the window faces the street, making your job that much easier for you. You pick up your binoculars to peer in, adjusting the focus for your prying eyes. Thank the universe he left his blinds open. 

He sits on the couch with his back facing you. It looks like he’s reaching for the remote, like maybe he’s having trouble sleeping, but when he settles back into the couch, you notice he’s butt ass naked, in all his glory. Even through the binoculars, you can see how big his cock is. Your mouth salivates at the sight, wanting to feel the stretch of him in all your holes. 

You’re not supposed to see this. Not at all. Usually in your assignments, you don’t get the full X-rated view, just the PG-13 suggestive one, and you are more than grateful for that. 

But not now.

You’re getting your own private peep show from the man you’re getting paid to spy on. You’re feeling like a grade-A pervert right about now but the sight is too glorious to look away. He spits on his hand, and languidly begins stroking his cock. He runs his other hand through his hair, his toned arms flexing with his movements, his chest heaving. 

It shouldn’t turn you on like it does. For one, it’s highly unprofessional. Secondly, he’s unaware he’s got an audience. Morally speaking, it’s definitely not your shining moment. But it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watching him tease and work himself up. You couldn’t pry your eyes away if you wanted to. 

Jack’s not the only one getting worked up; your clit throbs so hard you feel like it’ll go numb. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears thump-thump thump-thump. You let out a whine when Jack massages his tip, precum dribbling out like a sweet nectar you’d like to feast on. He continues his slow movements, dragging out his pleasure at a delicious and excruciating pace. Somehow, this makes the whole scene that much hotter; the display of restraint and discipline. You wonder if he does that with his lovers. Teasing, teasing, teasing, giving just enough to drive you insane before slowing almost to a stop. 

Possessed by desire, you haphazardly look for any lingering people outside before unbuttoning your pants to shove your hand to where it's needed most. You gasp at the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy, you can smell your own arousal seeped into your panties and it spurs you on further. You mirror Jack’s pace - teasing your lips with a featherlight touch, inching closer and closer to your needy clit, stopping just shy of it, to tease yourself more. It’s agonizing in the best way, taking your time like this. Normally, you like efficiency when making yourself come, rarely going the extra mile to turn the pleasure dial up, but this makes you question why you’re ever in a hurry. 

You reach your clit, going in gentle circles to match Jack’s unhurried pace. You wish you could hear the sounds he’s making, all the grunts and whimpers escaping his plush lips. 

He speeds up his strokes, now ravenous for his delayed release and so are you. Overtaken by the need to come, you drop the binoculars, letting them fall to the floorboard. You’re not even watching him anymore, having seen more than enough to commit to your spank bank. With your eyes closed and head pushing into the headrest, your mind is flooded with images of Jack fucking you slow, hard and deep, absolutely destroying your pussy – legs over his shoulders, hitting the spot that makes you scream and cry in euphoria. The image of him spilling into you, filling you up with his come is what tips you over the edge, your body shivers in bliss and you rock against your hand to ride out the high, feeling faint from the intensity. 

After you’ve recovered and fumbled your chance of ever seeing The Pearly Gates, you dare to look back to his house, to find all the lights back off. It’s a bit of a relief, feeling less shameful of what you’ve done now that you can’t see him at the moment. 

You button your pants backup and lean over to retrieve the forgotten binoculars from the floorboard, as your fingers grab them you hear a knock on the window. The sudden rap on the glass makes you flinch, feeling your skeleton attempt to flee from your corporeal body. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see Jack standing outside your car, leaning one forearm against the body so his face is level with yours. Fuck fuck fuck. You’ve been caught. Dizziness and nausea war within you as you roll down the window. You open your mouth to explain the situation, but words never escape your mouth. 

“You like watchin’ people don’t ya?” he asks, his tone is dark, but not angry. No, it’s something else entirely. 

“I–”

“‘S’alright. Caught onto ya pretty quick. A pretty face like yours ain’t hard to miss.”

“I– i’m sorry, um,” you scramble to find words, any words but Jack interjects again. 

“You like watchin’, but darlin’ I want to know, do ya like bein’ watched?”

[mustangbby]

ESPRESSO - aventurine x reader

- "now he's thinkin' bout me, everynight, oh, is it that sweet? i guess so." or, how does aventurine do when he's in love?

- GUYS GUYS QUEEN SABRINA DROPPED A SINGLE i've been listening to this for days and i needed to write about it sooooooooooo yeah! anyways i'll get to writing probably a few requests tomorrow and wednesday (expect 4-5 posts between those days to make up for my absence) and yeahhhhhh enjoy!!

- aventurine might be a little ooc, mentions of his trauma (so penacony main quest spoilers), reader confesses at the end. wc 1067

Aventurine doesn’t know what to do when he first figures out that the feeling in his chest whenever he saw you was because he liked you. He probably tried to deny it, until Topaz caught him blushing like crazy after you walked away from the conversation you two had just finished. (Even then, she had to tell him, and then he spent a long time thinking that possibility through. She might have been right). 

You plague his visions. Why does he always want something to do with you? Why does he always want to be in your space, but also never wants to see you again? You’ve noticed his weird behavior, considering you were one of the first people he’s ever genuinely called a friend, but didn’t really think too far into it. 

Though, it didn’t stop you from paying more attention to it, that's for a fact. Sometimes you’d pay more attention to his body movements around you, the way he speaks, his etiquette, etc. You and Topaz communicate through it, and it’s a little bit different from his conversations with her. 

You know he can be cocky. Like, very cocky. You know he’s not too afraid to talk back, to challenge someone to a gamble (spoiler he wins), and to be reckless. Though, you also know about his backstory. So you can kind of understand where he’s coming from. 

He’s been pretty open with you about all of the things he’s endured. You know his real name, he’s described how his family has looked, and he’s described his years he endured slavery and what his home planet was like. You know about the Men in Black and the Katicans. And you know how traumatized he is.

Now, you’ve known him for a long, long time before this. You welcomed him into the IPC when Jade first announced his arrival, and you kind of showed him the ropes. He thought you seemed kind, so he stayed in contact with you.

You’ve watched him change, all of his progress through life, the hard times and the good times, and so much more. And that's what gets him the most, he thinks. 

He never realized how much he trusted you until he realized he liked you. You know every single thing about this man, which was the reason why he was rather… nervous when he’d have to communicate with you face to face. He did a good job at keeping up his front he uses to talk to people, but you sensed a slight form of stress underneath all the layers he put up to look tough. 

He lays awake, thinking about you. You’ve made part of his mind your home, and it’s the part he comes back to over and over again. You replay in his mind like a good song that he can’t get enough of- on, and on, and on, and on. 

He does like to bring you little trinkets he finds pretty when he goes out in public to do some shopping. Considering how wealthy he is, he could probably afford to buy out the whole store, so if you even mention something you like to him, he’s on his way to find it for you. He likes to think of it as he’s buying your kindness, but you think something completely different. You enjoy his sudden gift giving, not just because of your gain, but because he thought about you enough to do such a thing. It always makes you slightly blush before laughing while opening the box presented in front of you. He thinks that's the most precious part about your time spent together; all of the opportunities he gets to listen to your gorgeous laughter and see your flawless smile. Topaz, pinch the man, he’s in his own personal dreampool.

Oh, how bad he wants to confess to you, but he’s really afraid of rejection. He fears losing you entirely, fears that you won’t look at him like you always do if he asked if you two could be a thing. He fears you’d think he was odd for wanting you to himself, and that you’d slowly back away until you refuse to even look at his broken, battered form any longer. The thought makes a shiver crawl up his back. He can’t lose you too. 

All this man asks is to find a way to remove you from his head. You’re absolutely tormenting him! Notice how he’s been lacking on his work lately, always caught in a daze when he’s sitting down at his desk? That’s you he’s daydreaming about. He’s no good with his emotions. He knows how to hide sadness, fear, and anger, but he’s never been in this boat before. Love is a whole new concept to him. 

“Aventurine, you’ve been out of it lately. Tell me, is something the matter?” You barge through the blonde's office, not even bothering to knock. You know you don’t have to, he’s never doing anything so significant in that tiny space that it needs to be kept private.

“What are you saying? Nothings up with me,” he drops his pen in the small plaster pen cup you bought for him. “Work has been tiring lately. Nothing to stress over.” 

You plop into the chair in front of his desk, resting your arms on the top and putting your head in between your palms.

“I can tell when you lie. Tell the truth.”

He looks away. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t get you out of his brain, and that you’re the only thing he can focus on? That’ll scare you off for sure!

“Aventurine?? You there?” you wave a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze once more. “You know, you don’t have to lie. I already know what you’re thinking.”

His eyes slightly widen, just enough for you to notice. You giggle very lightly before continuing on with your sentence. “You have a little crush, don��t you? Don’t worry, I like you back. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He doesn’t know if he wants to faint or make out with you right now. “So that makes us…?”

“I don’t know. We could remain friends, we could be boyfriend girlfriend, whatever you want. I don’t care.”

Well, he believes he already knows the answer he’s choosing.

[monzabee]

hot girls support 44 – lh44

masterlist

Summary: The one where your husband realises that you are, indeed, his number one fan.

Pairing: lewis hamiton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: cursing? (i’m not even sure), and a whole lot of fluff

Request: “Hi can you do we’re Lewis Hamilton wife is with him to see one of his races but she leaves the garage for some reason and over hears someone talking bad about her husband and she snaps and tells them straight and Lewis is watching her from a distance like damn that’s my wife”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i don’t know if this classifies as a drabble but let’s just pretend it does because i realised that i can’t write anything under 1k? this was a very fun request to work on, so thank you to anon, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Both you and Lewis are private people when it came to your relationship. It has always been that way, with him leading a lifestyle in front of the cameras, and you preferring to stay away from those said cameras as much as you can. Over time, you both developed a rhythm, a delicate balance between Lewis's public persona and your desire for privacy. It was an unspoken agreement, an understanding that you valued above all else.. You knew how much Lewis's racing career meant to him, and you admired his ability to excel under the constant scrutiny. And in return, Lewis respected your wish for a quieter, more intimate life together. It was this mutual respect that solidified the foundation of your relationship, allowing it to thrive despite the challenges that fame and attention often brought.

That is not to say that you guys were completely private, of course. You’ve had your fair share of events the two of you attended as a couple, as well as races, but Lewis is always mindful of the fact that you don’t want cameras in your faces. In the early days of your relationship, the media had tried to capture glimpses of your relationship, eager to uncover every detail and learn more about the woman who finally made him give up his bachelor status. However, Lewis, being the fiercely protective partner that he was, had firmly set boundaries to shield your personal life from the prying eyes of the world. He cherished the sanctity of your bond and understood the importance of keeping certain moments sacred and away from the public eye.

The two of you have a special routine for the race days where you decide to join him on the track – you mainly spend your time inside the Mercedes garage, instead of lingering around where the cameras are most likely to be. However, you make sure to leave the garage for celebrations for those races where Lewis is up on the podium, celebrating him with the people who support him every step along the way whom he appreciates immensely; while the podium celebrations were reserved for the public eye, the garage held its own intimate victories. It was here that you celebrated the milestones and shared the unspoken triumphs, basking in the knowledge that your presence was an unwavering pillar of support for Lewis. But for the most part, you’re happy with your routine – it’s safe, familiar and it has worked for a very long time. So you don’t really know why you decided to take Roscoe on an impromptu tour of the paddock, especially when he gives you that look which clearly says that he would rather be taking his afternoon nap.

It's a good day despite the chaos everyone on the paddock seems to be in, but then again, there’s only a few hours until the qualifying session. So, in hopes of avoiding the human traffic, you decide to take Roscoe to a more secluded area in the back. As you walk, Roscoe happily wagging his tail by your side, you take in the sights and sounds of the paddock. The familiar smell of rubber and gasoline fills the air, mingling with the excited murmurs of fans and the distant roar of engines. It's a world you've come to know and appreciate, even if from a slightly different perspective. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hear voices growing louder as you approach a group of people gathered in conversation. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you slow your pace, intending to discreetly eavesdrop before continuing on your way. But as you get closer, you realize the topic of their conversation hits closer to home than you expected.

In hindsight, you know better to get involved in situations which might cause you to bother yourself with rude, petty people, but when it concerns your husband and everything that he has worked hard his entire life for, you don’t even hesitate. With the fierce protectiveness you feel inside, you clear your throat to get the attention of the engineers, “Excuse me,” you say as you give them a (fake) smile, “could you repeat that again, please?”

The group falls silent, their faces registering surprise and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. They exchange glances, seemingly unsure of how to respond to your unexpected intrusion. “We just meant that–” The man is quickly silenced by one of his friends elbowing him in the side.

You ignore the silent ow that comes from the man’s mouth and give the trio a stare down. “Well, I guess everybody is entitled to their opinions.” Your sweet smile and dulcet tone is enough to think them that everything is fine, but you’re quick to continue voicing your thoughts, “But that doesn’t give you the right to undermine a man’s hard work, especially when he has broken record after record and don’t even get me started on the fact that not only he is a pioneer in this sport, he is also a role model and inspiration to many and has impact beyond the track.” You let a frustrated hum, “Also, have some respect, the guy is an eight-time world champion.”

The guy who spoke before looks confused as he attempts to point out, “He won it seven–”

“Do you want me to let Roscoe attack you?” You ask as you point to the puppy sitting next to you, who, in hearing his name, looks up at you; all panting and happily sticking his tongue out.

Little do you know, Lewis had been watching the entire scene unfold from a distance, a mix of admiration and adoration in his eyes. He waits until the engineers leave in a hurry, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest. A smile tugs at the corners of Lewis's lips as he watches you handle the situation with such grace and confidence. As you turn around, ready to head back to the safety of the Mercedes garage, your eyes meet his, and a surge of warmth fills your heart. Walking towards you, Lewis closes the distance between you, his steps purposeful and full of pride. His arms quickly find their place on your waist as he mumbles, “Damn, that’s my wife.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, your face quickly mirroring the smile he gives to you. “Didn’t you see the sign? Apparently, ‘hot girls support 44’.”

“Is that so?” He hums, letting his hands wonder towards the back pockets of your jeans as he continuously presses kisses along your jaw, “It’s definitely right.”

As Lewis's lips trail along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine, you playfully swat at his chest. "Behave, Mr. World Champion. We're in a public place," you whisper, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.

Lewis chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with love and mischief. "Can't help it, love. Seeing you stand up for me like that, it's a turn-on," he teases, his voice laced with admiration. "But you're right, let's save the public displays of affection for later."

With a shared understanding and a silent promise, you and Lewis turn, making your way back to the familiar comfort of the Mercedes garage. In each other's presence, you find solace and strength, ready to face whatever lies ahead. And as Roscoe happily trots beside you, you can't help but feel grateful for the extraordinary life you share with the man who has captured your heart, both on and off the track.

[neptuneiris]

Behind the Scenes (05/05)

Behind the Success

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you and Aenar finally meet Aemond's family, closing one chapter of your life and starting a new one with Aemond in it.

word counter: 8.7k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

it's here!🥳

I've finally finished the chapter and I'm so excited for you guys to read this!

and how is it possible that another story is going to end soon? because if you didn't read my previous message, there will be an epilogue, so it's not yet the definitive goodbye for this little family we have created🤭

also before reading I want to thank you for your support and please leave me your opinion, lately the comments have gone down and I wish to read you🙏🏻

oh I also want to make a small clarification before you reed:

in the second chapter it is mentioned how aemond at the end confessed everything to his family in a desperate attempt to find Y/N. but let's forget that hehe🤭 let's pretend that aemond never told them so you can enjoy this chapter and the light drama you are about to read.

now read and enjoy, ily all!

warnings: slight angst, aemond's family melting our hearts when they meet aenar.

Aemond immerses himself in the world of acting with the same fierce dedication with which he confronts his characters on screen. Every move, every word, everything is carefully rehearsed and executed.

Each project is a challenge, an opportunity to explore new roles and demonstrate his versatility as an actor.

The hustle and bustle of the film set fills the air as he immerses himself in his role. The bright lights illuminate his face, conveying the intensity of his character as he delivers his lines with palpable emotion.

But when the bell rings, as well as the director's shout of "cut!" is heard, Aemond is Aemond again.

Behind all those shots, scenes, interviews and awards, no one knows that Aemond is a father, at least no one outside his close circle. He only confided the news to a few close co-workers, some production people and his older sister, Rhaenyra.

He managed to persuade some rumors after some people at first saw him entertaining Aenar in the nursery on the set, because even though there is nothing wrong with it and Aenar is his most precious treasure and a pride of his life, he knows it is better to protect him from the public eye.

And now that Aenar has his own nanny at home, sometimes even then the whispers would start to get too much and he would make sure that some member of the production crew, known for their ability to spread harmless gossip, would plant the idea that it was simply a close family friend of the child they had seen him with.

And in the midst of all his work and everything he has to do, Aemond finds the precious time to be with his son.

Aenar, a whirlwind of laughter and childlike energy, fills every space where the two are together with light. Games, stories and hugs become routine and Aemond cherishes every moment he can spend with him on his days off.

He even reduces his own working hours and focuses entirely on filming his scenes, also attending one or two interviews per month, in order to have more quality time with Aenar, who is more important than having to please the press at every moment.

And as he balances the intensity of the job with his responsibility as a father, Aemond fights for to rebuild the trust you once placed in him.

Every gesture, every conversation, was an effort to demonstrate that he is fully committed to getting things right this time. Every encounter with you, he demonstrates a quiet determination to making amends for past mistakes.

With carefully chosen words and acts of genuine support, he tries to show you that he understands the pain he had caused and is willing to go out of his way to regain your trust.

And you accept this, because you see how he makes an effort to open up more, to share his thoughts, his fears and his hopes. But above all, you see how he is making an effort with Aenar, which is the most important thing.

And you also see how parental responsibility has changed his perspective and maturity. But still, Aemond knows that rebuilding trust takes time and forgiveness is not something that can or should be rushed.

Even if you decide never to forgive him, he's okay with that and is getting the idea from now on that you only allow him to be close to you because of Aenar and only because of Aenar.

So in the meantime, you immerse yourself in your own workday.

The makeup and wardrobe trailer is a world of constant motion and productivity in any given area, though your mind is always on Aenar and also on Aemond.

And even though you both carry separate jobs at the same place during the day, you both manage to create a balance between your jobs and raising Aenar.

Evenings were for you and Aenar if Aemond didn't finish recording at the same time as your shift ends. And almost at dusk is when Aemond comes from work and devotes every minute of his free afternoon to Aenar.

Instead if you both finished your shifts at the same time, you both spent time together with Aenar.

However, the nights brought calm.

Once Aenar fell asleep and before Aemond retired, you and he find your own space to talk, share thoughts, talk about work or more importantly about Aenar. And today just happens to be one of those nights.

You finish cleaning the kitchen, while Aemond is sitting on one of the stools, with a cup of coffee in his hands, looking out the large windows to the back garden, thoughtful.

While he has in front of him the IPad with the image of the camera in Aenar's crib that records him sleeping, attentive and making sure he is well.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he says, breaking the silence in a soft voice, catching your attention.

You watch him from the sink, setting a clean, dry dish in the drainer, then drying your hands with a clean cloth.

"About what?" you ask him softly, attentively.

And he takes a moment before answering, thinking very carefully about his words and what he means, not wanting you to misunderstand him in any way.

"On Aenar and... us."

He confesses and you lean on the other side of the island that separates you both in front of him, giving him your full attention.

"At first..." he starts to say, slightly flustered, "You didn't want me to hide him from the world and I-I... well, I obviously disagreed with you."

He says and bites the inside of his cheek, lowering his gaze, feeling embarrassed.

"But now... I think it's not fair to him that no one has any idea that I have a son. It's also not fair for anyone to know that you're the mother of my child."

His gaze again meets yours and a sense of understanding envelops both him and you.

"Now things have changed," Aemond continues, his tone laden with sincerity, "And I know that you and I are n-not together but... maybe... I can announce the news, only if you want me to."

Silence fills the kitchen in its entirety for a moment, as Aemond holds his breath at your possible response, honestly feeling terrified to expect a bad reaction from you.

But none of that crosses your mind, on the contrary, you just digest his words. But your silence is what causes a mixture of expectation and anxiety in Aemond, who holds his gaze with yours, nervous.

And finally, with a serene sigh, you go around the island that separates the two of you and approach him, placing one of your hands on his shoulder gently and in an attempt to comfort and reassure him, instantly feeling his whole figure tense, while he watches you with his big healthy wide eye and his prosthetic eye remains the same as always.

"Aemond," you begin to say in a soft voice as he watches you completely attentively, "I always wanted you to recognize Aenar publicly, that was what I wanted most at first. But now...

You pause for a moment, thinking about your meditated words, as you sink for a second into your own thoughts and what you really want to say, as Aemond watches you intently, waiting for you to continue.

"I understand your world more now," you continue, "And, honestly, I can't blame you for not agreeing with me back then, only in this," you make clear, "Recognize him legally would have been the right thing to do and... enough," you say holding back the sadness in your tone of voice.

But Aemond catches that break in your voice, a moment of your vulnerability that makes him feel a sharp, simmering ache in his chest, as if every word you utter drops a weight on his shoulders, with shame again invading him, but this time with a mixture of deep remorse and regret.

A barely audible sigh escapes his lips, lowering his gaze, ashamed, feeling the burden of his past choices and he wonders amidst the brief silence if he will ever be able to fully redeem with himself.

But he doesn't have much time to think about it, as you gently squeeze his shoulder to bring his attention back to you.

"And now I understand that the press and people's opinions can be very dangerous and destructive," you say softly, "And I don't want that for Aenar, at least I don't want to deal with that yet," you confess, "I want him to grow up a little more and we can both enjoy his early years without having to worry about it."

An expression of surprise and also longing crosses Aemond's face, still watching you intently, processing your words.

"Are you sure?"

You place a soft smile on your lips.

"Very," you assure, "I just want him to grow up in a calm and safe place, without falling fame on him nor all this attention being so young," you explain, "I have no problem with it, but also your opinion counts."

"No, I-I... I want the same for him too," he agrees with you, nodding, with all the pressure and anxiety he felt being replaced by a mixture of gratitude and relief.

And you nod back at him, smiling softly in his direction.

"But..." he says with a slight urgency in his gaze and concern in his tone, "I just want you to know that when the time comes, I won't do it for attention or to be relevant."

He says seriously, softly and honestly.

""I'll do it because I know it's something I have to do, for him and for you, as in the beginning maybe it should have been. But for now I just want us to enjoy these moments and, when the time is right, make that decision together."

The room fills with the honesty of his words and you can feel the sincerity in each of them, as a sense of calm envelops you both and you share a soft, complicit smile.

"Sure," you nod to him, feeling a warmth wrap itself all over your chest.

Your gaze moves away from his for a moment, focusing on the iPad screen where Aenar is shown sleeping, while Aemond can't help but focus on the features of your face with an intensity that can't go unnoticed by you.

Deep longing is reflected in his gaze, with a palpable mix of regret and sadness that is projected beyond mere facial expression. And he feel that weight on his body and chest again, a burden he can't help but feel.

His healthy eye glides over your face as if searching for answers in every line of expression and in his gaze, you can perceive the longing to repair the irremediable, the need to know how much he regrets the decisions of the past.

"Y/N-

He starts to want to say, his voice laden with regret, but you turn your gaze to him and stop him.

"Aemond, we have already talked about this."

"But I'm sorry... I really am," he insists, with pain in his gaze, "And I know an apology isn't going to fix it, I know that, neither is anything else but... I am really sorry and you don't know how much I hate myself for everything I put you through."

"No," you shake your head, "There's no need for you to keep apologizing," you tell him softly, "It won't do either of us any good to keep bringing up the mistakes of the past. Nor will it serve you to keep punishing yourself for what has already happened," you say as tactfully as you can.

His expression reflects a mixture of gratitude and frustration with yourself.

"Yes, I know, I understand," he murmurs, lowering his gaze, "It's just... I feel like I have to say it."

"Aemond, what matters now is this, how we move forward from here now that we've both learned and grown. Aenar too," you add, "And that's all that matters."

He nods slowly in your direction, his gaze showing a mixture of appreciation and relief, even with the remorse within him, as you both then sink into a moment of silence, letting the unspoken words echo in the air, but you both know those words, they just don't need to be said.

The relationship dynamic between you and Aemond since then takes a new path, a less tense, more bearable path of total trust. And this is not lost when the two of you are together in Aenar's presence.

Until one day, on your day off precisely, Aemond after work, comes to you telling you some unexpected news.

"I told them."

You turn fully towards him, giving him your full attention, understanding but at the same time not what he really means.

The living room starts to feel tense, while Aenar completely oblivious to it continues to play on the floor with his toys, but you focus on his gaze, where there is a charge of confession in his eye and you notice his whole body in a position of determination but also nervousness.

"Come, sit down," you tell him in a soft voice, pointing to the couch, while at the same time getting up from the floor to take a seat next to him.

And he almost with a defeated expression and posture, does as you say, letting out a sigh.

"What happened?" you ask, watching him intently.

He inhales deeply, looking at Aenar on the floor, who is the only one who can make him feel a little calmer, as well as your presence next to him.

"I told them about everything that happened," he confesses to you, "Our relationship, your pregnancy, my team, the decision I made in the beginning, everything I caused and how much I hurt you," he says as he feels his heart knot, "Everything. Everything that happened from then until now... and Aenar."

His words leave a weight in the air, as you anticipate how bad and difficult that conversation must have gone with his family to see him this way, so serious and tense.

"And how did they react?"

Aemond closes his eye, lowering his gaze, his posture reflecting the emotional baggage he carries with him and how bad it definitely went with it.

"Just as I expected. Obviously they were disappointed in me."

He says without much emotion, but with slight pain in his tone

"My grandfather couldn't believe it and was shouting how come I kept all that from them. Hel was very shocked, Aegon and Daeron too. And mother said a few hurtful things, started crying and telling me how I could keep these things from her," he exhales deeply, "Rhaenyra and Daemon were the ones who helped me calm things down a bit, but still my grandfather and mother were upset with her for knowing and not saying anything."

The tension of what happened feels palpable, as if he is reliving his family's every reaction, with the heaviness of disappointment and pain reflected in his expression, as you beside hom, share the weight of that difficult moment.

You are both silent for a moment, only hearing the sounds of Aenar playing with his toys.

"I'm sorry," you whisper in his direction, placing your hand on top of his, as if trying to somehow ease the pain he feels, "It must have been very difficult for you."

"No, Y/N," he observes you instantly, speaking to you in a soft tone, "You don't have to apologize. I deserved this and I'm not saying it to cause pity or play the victim," he adds with earnest sincerity, "I'm saying it because it's true. This is the least I deserve after everything you had to go through because of me."

You decide not to say anything at this, just offer him your silent support, while he again seems lost in his own thoughts for a few long seconds, where neither of you say anything.

When suddenly, Aenar emits an infectious giggle, instantly attracting both of your attention.

His small hands hold a toy with enthusiasm, his smile and the tenderness he conveys bringing brightness to the living room and the state Aemond is in, who smiles softly at the scene, watching him with complete adoration.

He sighs and rises from the couch, moving towards him, holding him gently, needing the sensation at that moment of holding him in his arms.

Aenar squeals with excitement and joy, placing his small arms on his chest, moving energetically in his arms, smiling big at him with his blue eyes completely filled with a glow.

The scene makes you smile softly, especially when Aemond also takes one of his toys and begins to play with it in his arms as he starts to walk slowly around the living room, talking to it in a honeyed tone and causing Aenar to babble incomprehensible words but full of happiness in his tone.

And when Aenar entertains himself with his father's silver hair, Aemond speaks again, turning to you to observe you.

"Despite everything, they want to meet him," he says, watching Aenar in his arms, "And they also want to meet you, my mother more than anyone else."

And this also completely grabs your attention.

"Really?"

"Hmm," he nods, "But I didn't tell them yes or no," he lets you know, "I wanted to consult it with you first."

"But is this good or not?" you ask, looking to find positivity in the situation, "Or do you think they shouldn't know him yet?"

"Of course they should," he tells you softly, "I owe this to them, also to you. But as I tell you, I didn't know how you would react if I told you they would meet him soon, I wanted to check with you first."

You place a reassuring smile in his direction.

"Aemond, for me it's perfect for Aenar to meet his grandmother, his uncles and aunts. It's a great opportunity and will definitely be good for him," you assure him.

"Yes, it is," he nods, unconsciously beginning to imagine the moment, "They can come or we can go to them, whichever you decide."

"Either way is fine with me," you shrug, "When might that be?"

Aemond thinks for a moment before answering.

"We could arrange it next weekend. Sounds good?"

You nod with a reassuring little smile.

"Sounds good."

The Targaryen—Hightower family decides to come to you.

When Aemond gives you the news, even though at first you were totally fine and had no problem with it, inevitably knowing it instantly makes you nervous.

You've never met his family before, not even when you and Aemond were a couple for obvious reasons. And even though his family isn't involved within the entertainment and film industry, you've still heard enough about them to feel slightly intimidated.

About Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen more than anyone.

The uncertainty of how they will perceive you, especially after disappearing from Aemond's life without warning and also how they will treat you, that's what worries you the most.

But the fact that they will be coming to your house relieves you a little. Fortunately you won't be interacting with them in unfamiliar terrain and you're sure that the presence of Aenar, his toys and Aemond will go a long way to reassuring you.

"Do you need help?"

Aemond appears behind you, while you find yourself cleaning everything you can from your living room and Aenar, as usual, is sitting on the carpet with all his toys around him.

"I'm just cleaning up in here, then I'll go clean the kitchen."

"Don't worry, me and this little handsome will clean the kitchen."

He walks over to Aenar and takes him in his arms, who is already dressed in an outfit too cute for the occasion and smells like baby soap from the previous bath you gave him, ready to meet his family.

Aemond goes with him to the kitchen, sitting him in his perch, keeping an eye on him while at the same time starting to clean up.

You start moving some of Aenar's toys, organizing his play area a bit, to create a more orderly and cozy space in the living. You also mop the floor and arrange cushions.

Aemond washes a few dirty dishes and cleans all the shelves, also mops and spreads your favorite Lavender scent, which besides smelling amazing, calms your nerves.

You also ask him to help you tidy up the dining room while you clean the bathroom, wanting everything to look clean and spotless, while Aemond takes Aenar in his arms again to let him play in his play area and he watches him closely from that new distance.

"Maybe I should have cooked something?"

You walk over to him, slightly concerned.

"What? No," he turns to you, instantly, "Y/N, they're coming to meet Aenar, not to eat."

"I know, but..." you explain, nervously, "I thought maybe it would be a good idea to have something prepared, out of courtesy and.... I don't know. Won't it be rude of me if I don't have anything to offer them?"

"Of course not, you don't have to," he clarifies, more serious but with a soft tone, "If you want to have something prepared, let it be some drinks, nothing more."

Still you watch him hesitantly and worriedly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure," he assures you, "In fact I'll prepare them. You rest and take care of Aenar. I'll finish cleaning up everything else."

"No, I-I-

"Rest," he repeats, interrupting you, placing a hand on your cheek gently, "I know this may be overwhelming, but they will come to meet Aenar and you too. And you don't have to put too much pressure on yourself. Everything will be fine."

Her warmth and understanding manage to comfort you a little, making you stop feeling so tense little by little.

"Now rest, okay?" he says softly to then walk past you and head towards the kitchen, not taking any argument back.

It's clear that he wants to lighten your load and make sure you feel comfortable about all this that's about to happen, with his actions conveying reassurance.

And finally after a while, you are ready and waiting in the living room with Aenar, playing with him, while Aemond is sitting on the single sofa and who a few minutes ago let you know that his family is on their way.

And after a few more long minutes, Aemond now lets you know that his family has already passed through the security gate that leads into the private neighborhood.

Knowing that fills you with nerves again, but Aenar's babbling as he hands you his currently favorite toys distracts you a bit.

"Are you okay?"

Aemond asks you from where he sits, watching you intently and noticing the tension all over your face and body, while you try to look completely calm and relaxed.

"Yeah, yeah, just... a little nervous," you say trying to place a genuine smile on your face as you distract yourself by touching Aenar's toys, "Who exactly is coming? Other than your mother and siblings," you can't help but ask.

"My grandfather."

You watch him expectantly, waiting for him to tell you more, but he doesn't.

"And that's everyone?"

"Well, Rhaenyra said my nephews wanted to come too, my uncle Daemon with his daughters too but I asked them to wait a little longer," he explains to you slightly concerned, "I didn't want you to feel nervous and overwhelmed if my whole family invaded your house. And Aenar sure would have felt scared too."

You bite the inside of your cheek and he rises from the couch to walk over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry, okay? It's going to be fine. They're excited to meet you and Aenar."

You release a long breath through your nose, placing one of your hands on top of his, feeling your shoulders especially start to feel less tense.

"Yes... thank you," you tell him with gratitude in your gaze, appreciating his support.

And then the doorbell rings.

Aemond gives you one last reassuring glance, assuring you that everything will be fine, then turns and heads for the door to greet them, as you rise from the couch and take Aenar in your arms.

The tension in your shoulders gradually dissolves as you hold your baby in your arms, replaced by a sense of calm, as you watch the front door intently and finish mentally preparing yourself.

Aemond opens the door gently with a warm smile on his lips and the first to enter is his mother, Alicent Hightower, in a beautiful, elegant green dress, followed by who you assume is Otto Hightower, his grandfather.

His mother wraps her arms around him and leaves a loving kiss on his cheek which Aemond reciprocates, as he also greets his grandfather, who watches the entire interior of the house with an inspecting gaze.

Behind Otto enters Rhaenyra, who embraces Aemond.

"Thank you for coming," Aemond says to her, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

"Of course," she smiles at him, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek as well before pulling away from him.

"You guys too, thank you," she says to Aegon and the rest of her brothers, "Come on in."

Both brothers, Aegon and Daeron, embrace him, speaking words of assurance, leaving Helaena at last, who throws herself into his arms with obvious emotion, smiling with joy and longing, as Aemond leaves a kiss in her hair.

Then Aemond closes the door and before heading towards you, who are still standing very still near the couch with Aenar in his arms, his whole family finally notices you and especially the child in your arms.

"Thank you for coming, all of you," Aemond repeats as he turns to you, "Let me introduce you to Y/N," he points to you, "She works on the same recording set I am currently working on as well."

You put on the best friendly and kind smile possible, as Aemond takes Aenar in his arms so that you can meet his family. And the first to address you is Alicent, with her stunning elegance and a soft smile on a warm face.

"Nice to finally meet you, my dear. My son has spoken so much about you."

The tension almost completely leaves your body, feeling grateful and relieved by the welcoming tone of her voice, evaporating your fear about how everyone, especially her, would treat you.

"The pleasure is mine. I'm happy you're here."

You reach out your hand to her and, pleased, she takes it. But she takes you by surprise when she pulls you closer to her and wraps you in a gentle embrace, definitely not expecting that.

You freeze for a moment, then, a little hesitantly, return her embrace, grateful for the affectionate welcome. And when you both part, she has a smile that denotes sincerity and cordiality, then points you to Aemond's grandfather behind her.

"This is my father, Otto," Alicent introduces you as he watches you with an appraising expression, "He has also heard much about you and was very pleased to come here."

And though his look is somewhat... intimidating, you don't let that invade your nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hightower," you tell him in a soft, polite voice, extending your hand to shake with his as well.

"The pleasure is mine, Y/N," he replies in a low, polite voice, shaking your hand briefly.

"And this is Rhaenyra," Alicent points you to the woman who is just as refined as she is and shares Aemond's same characteristic of silver hair, as do the rest of his siblings.

She smiles towards you and gracefully approaches, then embraces you in greeting mode, as does Alicent.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she tells you cheerfully, "Aemond told me so much about you and of course your little one," she tells you as she gives Aenar a loving look.

"The pleasure is all mine. Aemond also spoke a lot about you and was very excited to meet you," you tell her, as she holds your hands in a gentle grip.

"Well here we are," she tells you without wiping away her smile, then looks behind her, turning her attention to the rest of Aemond's siblings, "Oh and they are my siblings," she gestures you towards Aegon, Daeron and Helaena, who have friendly glances in your direction.

Aegon steps forward first, extending his hand.

"I am Aegon. I hope you're not feeling overwhelmed with so many silverheads invading your home."

"No, no, not at all," you laugh softly, taking his hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Aegon."

Daeron is next, greeting you with a friendly smile.

"Hello, nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Daeron. Aemond told us a lot about you and Aenar."

"Pleasure to meet you, Daeron," you say, noting the sincere camaraderie emanating from both brothers.

And finally, Helaena gives a few towards you, with an expression of pure excitement on her face and hugs you effusively.

"At last we meet!" she exclaims happily, "I was so excited to see you."

"Oh," you respond to her hug also a little surprised and with gratitude, "It's nice to meet you. Aemond has also told me a lot about you.".

"Good things, I hope," she says with a smile, pulling away from you.

And gosh, you can just see how much her sisters and brothers resemble Aemond. Their beauties are otherworldly and even Alicent is truly beautiful, as much as Rhaenyra is.

"And this..." begins to announce Aemond with Aenar in his arms and a radiant smile lighting up his face as he approaches the center of the living room, where his entire family watches him intently, "This is our son, Aenar," he says with pride in his voice, finally introducing his son.

Everyone's gaze focuses on the baby in Aemond's arms, who oblivious to the situation, watches them back with his huge bright blue eyes curious and expectant, while you place a small smile, anticipating the magical meeting of your little one with the rest of his family.

Helaena, visibly moved, can't hold back tears and tries to calm herself, with happiness, longing and nostalgia in her eyes. Aegon smiles with pride and Rhaenyra with adoration.

And meanwhile, Daeron, Otto and Alicent barely finish processing the reality of having Aenar in front of them.

Until Alicent steps forward gently, his eyes and gaze shining with curiosity, slight surprise, longing and adoration as he watches the little one, his newly presented grandson.

"Is that my grandson?" she murmurs in disbelief with tears beginning to form in her eyes and a hand on her chest.

Aemond, with a warm smile, nods at the question.

"Yes, Mom," he gently observes her and seeing her condition, looks at her with complete understanding, "Do you want to hold him?" he offers, carefully extending Aenar to her, sharing in the joy of her holding her grandson.

Alicent, tears streaming down her cheeks and visibly moved, nods in a touched nod with her gaze reflecting all her emotions, joy and awe.

She takes another step forward and reaches out her arms, where Aemond carefully places Aenar in her arms, who now watches him adoringly and with a mixture of happiness and emotion reflected in her gaze.

Alicent can't help but let out a couple more tears as Aenar babbles and watches her with great wonder, moving his small hands to her brown hair, starting to play with her curls, making her laugh softly in the midst of her tears and all the emotions she feels.

Aemond watches his mother tenderly as she enjoys her first encounter with her grandson, while you can't help but feel moved as well and wipe away a few tears that have escaped your eyes, watching the moment with emotion and nostalgia.

"My little Aenar," Alicent whispers, tenderly kissing his forehead, cradling him in her arms.

Aemond, still smiling and holding back his tears, diverts his gaze to you and you watch him back, where you both share a small smile and a silent complicity, both feeling the same way and recognizing the happiness this moment has brought to your lives.

And then Helaena approaches together with Daeron towards her mother, to watch Aenar and share the joy of the moment.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" comments Helaena, smiling, as Daeron watches him with a small smile of adoration and strokes his silver hair tenderly.

"Absolutely beautiful," whispers Alicent, her eyes shining with tenderness, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

"He's lovely," Rhaenyra comments with her soft little smile.

And then Alicent lifts his gaze to Aemond.

"And he looks exactly like you, darling," she tells him tenderly, recognizing the familiar features on Aenar's face and creating a moment full of emotion and family connection.

Aemond, touched and grateful, smiles at his mother's words.

"I think he has a little bit of both," Aemond replies, sharing a proud look with you.

Aenar physically by hair and eyes resembles Aemond, but some features of his face he definitely inherited from you and you can't help but smile in his direction.

And then, within the next few minutes, the whole family continues to make affectionate moments with Aenar. Helaena being the most excited is the one who now holds Aenar tenderly in her arms, leaving a couple of loving kisses on her cheek, while Rhaenyra approaches her to observe Aenar with a motherly gaze.

The imposing figure of Otto Hightower stands watching with satisfaction the scene unfolding in front of him, especially as he sees the happiness and excitement of Alicent and his grandchildren.

He doesn't say much, but his presence exudes a sense of quiet approval and though he doesn't show it, he honestly feels proud of Aemond, this reunion of his family and the arrival of a new member to it.

As Aegon approaches towards Aemond with a friendly, warm smile, placing a hand on his shoulder where he shares his gesture of brotherhood and pride.

"Congratulations, brother," he tells him sincerely, "He is beautiful and a mini version of you."

Aemond nods gratefully, the smile on his lips and places one of his hands on top of his.

"Thank you, brother. I appreciate it."

Now it is Daeron who takes Aenar in his arms and carries him to his play area, followed by Helaena, Rhaenyra, Alicent and you.

Helaena also takes a seat on the carpet with Alicent and the three of them start playing with him, who shows his enthusiasm and fills the living room with his giggles, melting the hearts of everyone present.

The atmosphere definitely becomes livelier and warmer, transforming into a special moment for everyone, where both you and Aenar feel completely comfortable and happy.

And as a few long minutes pass, Aemond watches all the interaction, happy and completely pleased, seeing how you converse with Rhaenyra and the rest of his family is totally entertained by Aenar.

Even his mother asks to have her picture taken with him and slowly begins to fill a new photo album of her grandson on her phone reel, completely enchanted with him.

Such a sight and such a moment couldn't make him happier, being a moment he needed so much and couldn't be more proud of. And how could he not?

His watching his son integrate into his family. And you are definitely getting along great with all of them.

Aegon stands by his side, sharing the gesture of complicity as they watch Helaena and Daeron make sounds with Aenar's toys that make him laugh and squeal with happiness.

Absolutely beautiful.

"So..." Aegon begins to say beside him, catching his attention, "You're going to show him to the world?"

He watches him intently, as Aemond holds his gaze for a second to look back at Aenar with an affectionate gaze, smiling softly.

"That's what Y/N would have wanted at first, when she got pregnant," he says softly, remembering those painful moments, "But no, at least not yet," he replies, turning his gaze back to his brother, "We talk and want to give him a normal childhood as much as possible."

Aegon nods with understanding, listening to him with full attention, then lets out a sigh, watching Aenar.

"The world is going to go mad when they find out, little brother," he says with an amused smile.

"I don't care," he says with a shrug, "All I care about is him."

Aegon smiles warmly again, acknowledging Aemond's priority as a father and he couldn't be prouder of him. He may be the older brother but Aemond...he's the one who matured first, always cleaning up his shit and making sure everyone was okay.

And even though when Aemond told them about this, about you and Aenar, it turned out to be a complete disaster, Aegon is glad that right now his family is responding in this way, loving you and Aenar.

"And what happened to Criston?"

He decides to ask you, curious and attentive, as Aemond takes a moment and exhales deeply, he too being a person who brings back horrible memories of the past.

"I fired him," he replies with a disinterested wave of his hand, "And his entire team too," he adds, "That's what I should have done in the beginning with him."

"And he threatened you?"

Aemond lets out an amused smile, remembering those days as well.

"Yes but I hired a lawyer and they made him sign a confidentiality sheet," he explains, "He couldn't do anything against that."

Aegon nods, pleased to hear those words, as you both turn your gaze back to the family, where Aenar's laughter still echoes throughout the living room, Aemond smiling lovingly as he watches his mother assail him with soft kisses.

Your soft laughter catches your attention as well, watching you with almost the same adoration and love as he watches Aenar, watching you converse with Rhaenyra where you both let out soft giggles at whatever it is you are talking about.

And he can't help but watch you extra longingly, wistfully, happily and longingly, loving to see the smile on your lips and the look of joy you have, his perfect and beautiful Y/N.

He honestly doesn't know what would have become of him if he had never seen you again. He'll probably still be sunk in his misery, regretful and trapped. But with each passing day he thanks the Gods for this, again and again, this second chance.

And Aegon doesn't take this unnoticed, the way his brother is looking at you.

"You really fucked things up with her, didn't you?"

His words break the spell he was under and he bites his lips, averting his gaze from you, beginning to feel ashamed and also with that guilt simmering in his chest.

"Yeah," he replies in a low murmur.

"You still love her."

Aegon tells him watching him intently with a complicity and understanding, not asking any questions, as he is making a statement, affirming it.

And Aemond again speaks the truth, neither denying it nor hiding it.

"Never stop doing so."

Aegon lets out a long breath, honestly feeling bad for him, to place his hand on his shoulder again.

"Brother, we all make mistakes," he tells him softly, "People fuck up and fuck up badly. I'm sure you get that from a person like me," he points to himself, still speaking in a serious tone, "And the important thing is to learn from them and move on. And I'm sure she's seen that in you."

"No, Aegon," he says softly, shaking his head, "What happened between us was different and... unforgivable," he says with the slight pain in his tone, "This is all happening only for Aenar and his well-being."

"So you don't plan to do anything about it?"

"I don't know," he says regretfully, letting out a sigh, "Things are complicated. And with everything that happened surely Y/N doesn't feel that way about me anymore. Besides what really matters is Aenar and I want to be a good father to him."

"I understand that, brother. But maybe all is not lost and all you need to do is try," he tells him in an encouraging tone, "Life is unpredictable, you know? And who knows... maybe Y/N still has feelings for you."

Aemond grimaces.

"I don't know, bro. I don't think so."

Aegon decides to say no more, just nods, for after all, he understands the complexity of his situation. And inevitably, though he shouldn't, with the words he has spoken to him, Aemond feels a small glimmer of hope.

Meanwhile the inside of your house continues to fill with laughter and conversation as everyone enjoys family time. And in the middle of it all, Alicent notices you going to the kitchen for a moment, this catching her attention and being the opportunity to talk to you.

So, giving her attention away from her grandson since she arrived, without saying anything to anyone, she discreetly follows you into the kitchen.

As she passes through the frame, she sees you arranging the drinks that Aemond prepared for them on a tray, wanting to offer them. But when Alicent's figure entering the kitchen catches your attention, you immediately turn to her.

"I don't intend to take up too much of your time, my dear," Alicent hastens to speak with a small smile on her lips.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," you nod immediately, "Do you need something?"

"I just want to talk to you," she answers you softly, "And it's nothing bad, I just... want to thank you for welcoming us into your home," she says, showing the sincerity in her look and tone, "I honestly haven't felt this happy in my life in a long time. And meeting Aenar has definitely made me very happy," she pauses a little, "Thank you."

"No, no, you don't have to thank me," you reply, with a soft look, "It's a pleasure to have all of you here. And you have made Aenar very happy too."

"No, I really do thank you," she insists with a soft tone, "Your home is beautiful and definitely an excellent place for Aenar to grow up."

"Oh, thank you," you smile kindly at her, "Actually this house was bought by Aemond. He must have told them or at least you, I suppose."

"Yes, he did," she nods, "He also told us how much you refused at first but I understand you. It must have been a very meaningful but very overwhelming gesture for you."

You nod with understanding, biting your lips.

"Yes," you murmur, "Yes it was. But I only accepted for Aenar," you hasten to clarify, "I didn't do it for my own convenience, whether for money or fame. I accepted for Aenar, so that he could have his father in his life and together give him the best."

"Yes, sweetheart," she advances towards you and takes your hands between her gently, "I know," she assures you, "You don't have to explain anything, everything is more than understandable."

You let out a long breath.

"Thank you," you tell her sincerely.

"It's okay," she smiles softly at you, "And listen, I-I... I really don't want to make you uncomfortable nor do I want to make you feel bad, in fact Aemond asked me not to talk to you about this but..." she looks at you with some tenderness and longing, "I just want to tell you how very brave you are, Y/N."

You shudder at the sweetness of her unexpected words, feeling a warmth run through your chest as a mixture of gratitude and longing flashes across your face, suddenly feeling completely vulnerable.

"I didn't blame you for deciding to run away, no one judges you for it."

She lets you know by telling you in a soft voice and as tactfully as possible.

"As much as I would have loved to have met you sooner, Aemond's decisions were terrible and I can't imagine everything you had to go through on your own," she says with slight shock and sadness, holding your hand tighter, "Your pregnancy, living in a new unfamiliar place and trying to make it on your own."

You bite your lips, feeling a sharp pain in your chest and tears begin to form in your eyes, but you gather your strength and try not to let them fall despite the memories of painful moments.

Her words resonate with genuine understanding and her warm touch brings you a comfort you didn't expect but definitely needed.

"Yes," you whisper, feeling the lump in your throat, "It was very scary and very difficult," you confess, "But Aenar made every sacrifice worth it."

"Of course," she murmurs, with a sympathetic look.

"Oh and... it must have been hard for you too," you say, remembering, "In those days seeing Aemond so sad and desperate must have worried you a lot. It even almost put in danger his career and you had no idea about me and what had happened."

"Yes, that was very scary too," she nods with a sad smile, "We didn't know what had happened, he pushed everyone away, even Helaena and... I couldn't stand to see him like that, but he wouldn't accept our help either," she explains, "But now, just like me, I've never seen Aemond so happy in his life."

Her tone is genuine and you hold her gaze with appreciation and understanding, feeling completely grateful for this pleasant acceptance and welcome by Aemond's family.

And in that moment you can feel, as Alicent does, how your connection grows stronger in your shared understanding of past challenges and new hope.

"You are a strong woman, Y/N. And I also want you to know that regardless of the circumstances between you and Aemond, I want you to know that you are part of our family now and we are here to support you."

You feel a happiness and relief course through your body, grateful for her words and her total understanding, as you nod in her direction.

"Thank you, Alicent."

And Alicent unable to contain herself, wraps you in a hug full of tenderness that you reciprocate, with the atmosphere filling with a sense of mutual acceptance and support.

And from there, the rest of the afternoon is spent sharing laughter and creating special memories.

Aegon plays with Aenar while Daeron and Helaena join in the fun, making your little one laugh with every quip and funny face that Aegon especially makes.

Alicent and Rhaenyra also join in, creating a connection with Aenar and showing him affection, while Aemond and you watch it all sitting together on the couch, each with a smile on your lips.

Until the visit comes to an end and the family says goodbye with expressions of gratitude and affection. Helaena is the one who insists on exchanging numbers to stay in touch, while she along with Alicent and Aegon promise to visit again soon.

It's a bit hard for Alicent to want to let go of Aenar, but eventually she does and then Aemond and you finish picking up and sorting all of Aenar's scattered toys.

Until it's also time for Aemond to leave.

"Thank you for this day. It was amazing and better than I could have hoped for. Even mom loves you more than she ever loved me."

You smile in his direction sincerely, laughing softly.

"It was nothing, Aemond. It was all very nice. Your family was very kind and Aenar had a great time."

"Yes," he murmurs as he watches his little boy adoringly and then turns his gaze back to you, "Still, thank you... for everything."

You see the intent in his gaze, also in his body, the way he fights it, catching your attention and being a bit amused at it, then moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him.

Surprised and definitely not expecting that, Aemond doesn't take long to reciprocate your embrace, a little hesitantly at first but he does, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against him.

A sigh escapes his lips as he closes his eye, feeling that warmth in his body and that almost happiness at the sensation of having you close again.

He had missed it.

The embrace conveys a mutual support and understanding, also a kind of affection that Aemond can't quite decipher.

But honestly at that moment he doesn't mind and allows himself to enjoy and seize every moment of this feeling, knowing that he may not be able to have you again soon in this way, before you both part and he drives to his apartment.

Regular visits from the Aemond family to your home become a pleasant daily moment. Each encounter brings laughter, love and a sense of family unity.

Aenar, with his contagious laughter, becomes the center of attention, further strengthening family bonds.

The bond between Aenar and his relatives grows stronger over time, so his extended family becomes fully involved in his growth and development. Laughter and play fill the halls of your home, creating precious memories.

Eventually you also meet the rest of Aemond's family as well as Aenar, like Daemon Targaryen, who is definitely a bit more intimidating than Otto Hightower. But once Daemon feels confident, he's the coolest guy.

You also meet Aemond's cousins, the twins Baela and Rhaena, Daemon's daughters, who are extremely kind and sweet to you.

And you also meet Rhaenyra's sons, Jace, Luke and Joffrey, where eventually she also introduces you to her youngest children, Aegon and Viserys.

Your relationship with each member of the Targaryen-Hightower family develop into genuine friendships. Helaena, Rhaenyra and Alicent become confidants and allies to Aenar's shared upbringing.

The complicity between the women in the family is supportive and builds a safe and loving environment for Aenar and the rest of the children.

Until, on occasion, you decide to take Aenar to the majestic Targaryen-Hightower mansion. The incredible residence becomes a second home for him, who explores every corner with curiosity and becomes familiar with the new walls.

Aegon, as the older brother he is, becomes his second protective figure. Together they share adventures through the mansion's extensive gardens and enjoy playing with Legos blocks or his plastic carts.

With Helaena, she connects with Aenar through her charm and utterly beautiful aura, always playing with him, carrying him in her arms and telling him fantasy stories with gestures and figures.

And with Daeron, Aenar loves it when he watches his favorite cartoons with him. Also eventually Aenar becomes his weakness, as he always fills him with more toys and always thinks of him to give him everything that makes him happy, even food.

And when Aenar cries, Daeron is the first of the siblings to come to him, slightly concerned and immediately wanting to make him feel good.

Meanwhile, your relationship with Aemond, while not resuming the romance of the past, transforms into a serene, enjoyable and respectful one. Aenar's upbringing becomes the main point of building his future and lacking nothing.

Although memories of the painful past persist, both have learned to cope and accept it, in order to move forward.

And eventually, in a significant moment and one that lasted hours of conversation between Aemond and you, also one that was an arduous process of documentation and much waiting, a culmination of a stage of your life is realized that further solidifies the unique connection between Aenar, Aemond and you.

A recognition that brings with it a clear message of commitment and love for the future of your family. The significant moment when Aemond asks for your permission to legally recognize his child and you allow him to do so.

It was not something you had to think about too much, as Aemond has shown you so much and the emotion in his eyes through his tears when you said yes, only further confirmed the fact that you were not making a wrong decision.

And everyone in the family celebrates when Aemond's last name is added to your son's name and he is finally named Aenar Targaryen.

general taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak @watercolorskyy @shiny-trashs-blog @strangersunghoon @elysian0612 @skzenhalove @iloveallmyboys @cakescupcakesminicookies

[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame (10) - In the End

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

Word Count: 7.3k

-I kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart-

The first time your and Jenna's photo leaked neither of you really noticed. Too wrapped up in spending time together to check the news. But in the wild lands of social media, the photo of you hugging Jenna from behind as she hugged you back as well as the position allowed back in the coffee shop provoked some thoughts.

Jennaortegafanpage: A relationship?

Jennafan36: Who even is that girl hugging her?

Hastoomuchtime4: On it!

Celebritynews: Probably just friends 🙄

Jennaortegafanpage: I don't know, Jenna looks really happy, and they look cute together 🥰

Hastoomuchtime4: Found her! Y/N L/N, she's Laura from Logan. Jenna follows her, but the account is private

Y/Ncomeback1: Is she finally acting again? 😭 She must be! Please let it be that!

And through it all, you just woke up one morning, confused about the sudden, and extreme, jump in follower requests on Instagram. "Fuck it, I should probably make the account public anyway," you were serious about acting, and some presence on social media probably wouldn't hurt. Right? Wait... why were so many requests from Jenna's fan pages?

It was probably nothing.

~X~

A week after you came back from Jenna’s place you found yourself stretching at the theatre. Hugh had quite a show in mind, and you’ve spent these past few days coming up with it, just the two of you. It was a challenge, but you bounced off each other really well. Today you’d be giving it a try for the first time.

Your phone suddenly rang in your bag and you remembered you didn’t put it on silent and mentally cursed yourself for not doing it, while also being thankful it didn’t interrupt your rehearsal. You strolled over to the bag and picked up your phone, it was just a message, and you unlocked your phone.

“You ready?” Hugh came in, dressed in quite a comfortable looking clothes. You wanted to get everything down perfectly before getting properly dressed for the event.

“Just a moment,” you said and read the message. You didn’t frown, didn’t react, there was no need to, you just read the message detailing the time and place for the next fight. You smiled, walking over to Hugh and putting an arm around his shoulders, confusing him, at least before you showed him the message.

“Y/N,” he began but you just grinned, blocking Davis’s number right in front of Hugh.

“I’m done,” you told him and the grin on his face made it even more worth it as he ruffled your hair and pulled you in for a hug.

“That’s the way! Lunch is on me, we’re going out to treat ourselves, call Barbara and tell her to be ready!” and with your spirits lifted and actual excitement in the air you were ready to begin the rehearsal. “I need to call Deb really quick, she’ll be really happy to hear this!” and she would be. She was a lot more understanding than you probably deserved her to be, and you knew this would mean a lot to her as well.

Sure, you weren’t all that close to her or Hugh’s kids, you knew them well, and you were happy to spend time with them, but the bond between you and the three of them wasn’t as strong as it was between you and Hugh. Still, they cared enough to be genuinely happy over this decision.

~X~

The last thing Jenna expected to happen two weeks after you left her home was to suddenly get a message from an unknown number, and she probably would have ignored it, if the person sending the message didn't also send a photo of you, your best friend, who was taking the photo, and Hugh Jackman sitting at a table having a lunch. “What the hell?” she muttered, more than a little confused. Minutes later a message came through. ‘That was just to get your attention. I'm Barbara, by the way, can I call you?’ The message read and instead of replying Jenna just called the girl herself, even if it was it was a bit nerve wracking to just randomly call someone she didn’t know.

Still, this was your best friend. And Jenna figured she could have that much freedom to just go ahead and call the girl.

“Oh my God, you have no idea the hoops I went through to get your number. It would have been a lot easier if that dumbass who happens to be my best friend just gave me your number,” was the first thing Barbara said and Jenna wasn't sure whether to laugh or just ask what the hoops she had to go through. Either way, she got to the impression that the girl would tell her regardless. “Get this, so, I couldn't crack her password. It really isn’t my birthday. Shame on Y/N,” Jenna already liked the dry sarcasm in Barbara’s tone. “Meaning, I had to make this elaborate plan where I went and began texting anyone who I thought might be able to help me out. So, your stylist, your mother your co-stars from Scream, yeah I went through a lot of proving who I am and finally getting your number, because damn it's difficult to get celebrity numbers,” Barbara concluded her tale with a deep breath, as she somehow managed to say all that without once taking a breath in.

Frankly, it was impressive that she even managed to get Jenna’s number. Jenna knew for a fact that her mother got tons of messages every day, each one asking for the same thing Barbara did. “You could have just asked Y/N you know,” she replied, and it really should have been that easy, or maybe Barbara just loved having a challenge in her life.

“That would have spoiled the surprise,” there was a hints of mischievousness in Barbara’s tone.

Jenna raised an eyebrow at that. Well, she was definitely down for surprising you, especially if it meant she would get to see you. “I'm listening,” Jenna all of a sudden felt like she was a part of some hidden plot, a secret only her and your best friend were in on, related to you and she was quite excited about it.

Barbara cheered, excited and probably very happy that things were going according to her plan. “Hear me out, Y/N and Hugh are participating in this charity event,” of course you were. Her lovely woman. “And I figured you might want to drop by and watch her give her first and potentially only live performance in a theatre?” how was that even a question? It was a chance to watch you perform, there was only one answer to that.

“Are you kidding me? I absolutely am coming! When and where?” that was all Jenna needed to know. Come hell or high water and even if it meant missing out on spending the holidays with her family she would go and watch you.

~X~

The day of the event Jenna took a flight from LA to Denver to meet up with Barbara in secret. Was it kind of weird? Meeting up with the same girl that made her rather jealous when you called her ‘babe’ behind your back? Yes, but she knew it would be worth it. She was in front of the theatre exactly 10 minutes before the event would start. The two of them were supposed to go inside and take their seats, not at the front of the crowd, but a bit further back so you wouldn't notice them right away. The plan was simple, Jenna would watch you in secret, dressed in a bit of a disguise, which was basically just a scarf, and then when you and Hugh finished her and Barbara would come and congratulate you.

Thinking about it now, maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea. Maybe you would look at Barbara if you felt nervous, and then you would recognize Jenna, and the surprise would be ruined. But it was too late to fix things now.

She spotted Barbara waiting for her in front of the theater and she had to admit the girl really was stunningly beautiful. Good thing she was straight, or Jenna would be feeling quite jealous. At that moment Barber noticed her and actually nodded in approval.

“You know, I've seen the pictures, but you look even more beautiful in person. No wonder Y/N is smitten with you,” ah, right, there it was. The teasing. You did mention Barbara was prone to teasing you, so this was what you meant when wasn't it? Not even a ‘hi, nice to meet you.’ No, it was right to teasing.

“She is?” Jenna asked trying to stop her mind from wandering off to all the times you nearly kissed and all the inappropriate thoughts and the dreams she had with you at the center of them. As well as to try and deflect, and maybe try to pretend there wasn’t anything more than friendship between you. She wasn’t blind, she could see you wanted more just as much as she did, but maybe, just maybe, it was still a bit too early.

Who was she kidding? After spending the night with you at her parents’ house she’s been missing you even more. She could deny it all she wanted, but a part of her knew that everything was falling into place for both of you to just take the risk. Spending the night at your place, hopefully alone, after everything, celebrating a successful live performance.

“You're blushing,” Barbara noticed before Jenna even figured it out herself, and it only made her blush more pronounced. “She absolutely is, by the way. She keeps wearing that ring like it's her lucky charm. Hell, she’s wearing it tonight as well,” that made Jenna smile.

The idea that you were wearing her ring around your neck made her heart beat faster. You were wearing it like a badge of honor, and, in another way wearing it as the declaration that there was something going on between you, that she was kind of staking her claim by marking you with her ring. It didn't cross her mind when she gave it to you, but now that she thought about it, it kind of was like that.

Barbara smiled. “Come on let's go inside. I think they are the last ones, but we should still get to our seats in time,” Barbara led her inside knowing the theater a lot better than she did since this was basically her first time in this theater.

From what she found out on the advertisement for the event, the charity was organized for the sake of rebuilding an old children's hospital and of course you, being the softy that you were, accepted. Just another reason to add to the list of reasons why she loved you. That being said, she had no idea what you and Hugh prepared for the night and from the looks of it neither did Barbara. For now, she would have fun with the rest of the event.

And she has fun! For roughly seventy-five minutes the performance was filled with various kinds of entertainment. Some people were singing, some were doing dance routines, some chose to go for usual theatre plays, only fit for the time frame given to them, some were showing impressive gymnastic skills choreographed to look more like a dance. And Jenna quite enjoyed herself, admiring the guts it took to perform live in front of an audience. and then an announcer came out just like he did between every act.

“Give it up for Logan reunion people, Hugh Jackman and Y/N L/N!” he exclaimed, and the crowd cheered as you quickly ran out pulling him aside.

“We're not ready, Hugh's not here,” you whispered but the announcer’s mic was still on, and the entire theater heard you say that. You looked like you were panicking, and it actually took Jenna's mind off of how absolutely stunning that black suit looked on you. You were dressed in all black, down to gloves! Not a hint of color to be seen, and while it was a bit unusual not to break all that black with something it looked really good on you.

“It's a closing act we can't move it! Why isn't he here?” the announcer asked frantically, and you just looked at him apologetically.

“Look there's nothing I can do. The show is already ending, they can just go home,” you suggested completely serious. Jenna glanced at Barbara, only to see she was just as confused as Jenna was.

“This is a serious event, now go out there and improvise something,” the announcer basically ordered you as he pointed toward the center of the stage, and you just sighed, taking the microphone and taking your spot on the stage.

“Right. Mistakes were made tonight, I'm sorry to announce that Hugh’s car got jacked, man. Uf, that was a lame joke. Well, you know what, after that start whatever I say after this will only sound better,” you said, walking along the stage just talking to the crowd and it got them to laugh. It was not the usual Hugh Jackman joke people used so there was a sense of freshness in it. And it was working.

You pulled out one of the chairs that was set up for you and Hugh for what Jenna guessed was a more subdued character-driven driven performance. Perhaps Jenna would never know, unless you began complaining about it later tonight, and you probably would. And you would have every right to complain considering Hugh wasn't here and you were alone on the stage in front of all the people that expected the two of you to show up.

You sat it down on the chair and dramatically hung your head back while tugging at your tie and sighed before bringing the microphone up to your lips. “Mistakes. We've all made them, you know? But this one might just be the biggest one I ever made. Here I am, replacing Hugh Jackman once again, like we all don’t already know how attached people get to their superheroes. I’m telling you, whoever thought there would be an X-23 movie continuing the franchise, better think twice. I have better chances doing that New Zealand movie Hugh gave up on, since there was no need to downsize everything.” you said and got up. “Most of you didn’t get that last one, and that’s perfectly fine. I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

You weren't even angry over this, just resigned to your fate as you got up and walked over to the center of the stage. Apparently, you've taken enough time to think of something. “See, if I could do this day all over again, I would not be wearing this tie. I'm telling you, it's really tight around my neck,” you tucked a finger underneath the tie and pulled, loosening it up a bit. “There’s not even a point, I’m in all black anyway,” you said, exasperated as people laughed, mostly at the way you were delivering the lines. “Other than that, I'd do this all over again. It's for a good cause, granted, it’s sad that we got to that point, but you know how things go. More often than not you don't notice things went wrong until it's too late,” people laughed again. “Yeah! And I’ll prove it to you!” you pointed at a random person in the crowd. “Say, have you ever had your heart broken?” you asked and the woman you pointed at nodded.

And Jenna just watched, mesmerized. You looked like you were comfortable doing this.

“Don’t you hate when that happens? There you are,” you spread your arm and turned slightly away from the crowd. “Thinking you’ve got it all figured out, you’re over it, but then you go into a car with someone, and you just realize you've made a mistake,” where the hell were you going with that one? “Just as you get comfortable for hours long ride, all of a sudden here comes piano followed by: I heard that you're settled down, that you found a girl and you're married now,” you actually sand really well. You weren’t Adele, but damn, Jenna wouldn’t mind listening to you singing more often. “And you’re reminded that the one driving you is that one friend that is obsessed with Adele and that's all you'll be listening to for the rest of the car ride. Love songs! No rock, no metal, no punk, or jazz, and you’re just hoping the shuffle will take some pity on you and you’ll get lucky to get Skyfall more than once!”

The laughter filled the theatre and you paused, letting it pass.

“It's mistakes like that, you know? It's the tiny things like a pebble that got stuck in your shoe and you can't get it out because it's inappropriate. And at that point you just hear alarms going off in your brain. It’s like a scene from an over the top action movie, you know the ones I’m talking about. Alarms blaring, red lights all around the main character, and that one voice going: 1 minute until total annihilation, but you're committed to it. You will make it work, damn it! You will push on with the Pebble in your shoe if that's the last thing you do!” and you were really getting into it, talking like an aggressively motivational coach trying to get people pumped. “It's like getting a role and thinking ‘good I don't have many lines, I can do this!’ and then three days in your voice is gone and your throat hurts because you've been screaming your heart out like it gives you special powers or something. Seriously, was I filming Logan or dubbing Dragon Ball Z?”

You went and sat down at the corner of the stage feet kind of dangling there as the crowd laughed and you nodded a few times. And then it happened, the stage lit up, the curtains moved to the side and in walked Hugh Jackman, dressed all in white as opposed to your all black suit, and it was clear by now that all of this was planned, and Hugh wasn’t late at all.

And the crowd went wild when they saw him. “See, that’s why I told you that X-23 joke would work,” you laughed and walked over to him, your microphone left behind at the edge of the stage, and since they could all still hear you Jenna figured you and Hugh had mics on your collars.

You went and stood slightly further back than Hugh, as only one spotlight remained on, the one on Hugh, and you were strangely standing right where his shadow was.

As Hugh walked closer to the end of the stage you followed him, perfectly replicating his movement, down to the slight sway of his hands. “Hello everyone, it’s wonderful seeing this many people gathering for a cause like this,” he stood there, confident, with his arms spread to greet the crowd, and you were actually moving at the same time as he was.

Hugh turned to look at you, and you looked back. “Y/N?” he sounded confused.

The spotlight on Hugh flickered for a moment and then got turned off entirely, only for one on the opposite side to be turned on, and in the brief moment it took the lights to switch you were on Hugh’s other side. “I’m just a shadow of the man you used to be,” you lamented, shadowing Hugh as he raised turned around to look at you and then scoffed. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and the upbeat music started.

He spun around, beginning to dance, and you did it all at the same time, with the same grace and rhythm Hugh had. And Jenna just watched, a smile on her face as the dance got progressively more complicated and even somewhat ridiculous. Hugh abruptly stopped, both of you breathing a bit heavily from the dancing, and looked back at you, frowning when you looked in the same direction he was looking at. “Look at me,” he demanded.

“Not how shadows work,” you corrected him, doing the same movement as he did as he silently directed the people controlling the spotlight to move them. You moved along with the lights, and raised your hand with Hugh when it looked like you were now face to face, with the light on Hugh’s back, but then you just turned your back to Hugh.

“Come on!” he exclaimed.

“I’m a shadow, not a mirror,” you reminded him.

“I see how it is,” the lights moved once more, and he began walking back, but the way light was shining on him made his shadow longer, meaning you were walking forward, following the path of the shadow right to the edge of the stage, and Hugh began taking the next step, thus your foot hovered over the stage.

And the lights went off once more, and when the lights came back you were nowhere to be seen as Hugh leaned against a cardboard wall, light shining on him, and no shadow in sight. “I’m safe,” he let out a sigh of relief and then the wall fell with a loud thud, and you were there, right behind it. Hugh hung his head and just accepted it as the two of you began walking off the stage, and then the lights went off again.

“Come on, man! Let me exist!” you shouted and when the lights came back you and Hugh were back on the stage, no longer performing as you just bowed to the crowd and curtains dropped.

And Jenna? She was astonished, completely swept off her feet by what you and Hugh just did.

“They were amazing,” Barbara said and frankly, Jenna couldn’t agree more, you truly were amazing.

~X~

You and Hugh just finished talking to the even organizers, finalizing your own donations to the cause, all that was left to do was find Barbara and go to your place to celebrate a successful night. You were a bit disappointed Jenna couldn’t make it, but Christmas was yesterday, so you understood. She wanted to spend time with her family, even though she didn’t put it like that, and you were honestly just happy that she was having fun. She did tell you to call her after the performance, so, instead of calling Barbara you went and called Jenna.

Only to hear ringing close to the doors and then saw Jenna reject your call. “What the fuck?” you looked at your phone and then at Hugh, who was equally puzzled.

“How was I supposed to know she’d call me right away?” that sounded like Jenna! You jumped to your feet, happy that you were finally out of that suit, and went to the doors.

“How could you not know?” and that was Barbara. “Why wasn’t your phone on silent?”

“I was excited, okay? I forgot,” that was definitely Jenna’s voice, and you opened the doors, seeing the two of them approaching while almost childishly going back and forth about Jenna not putting her phone on silent.

“If I knew about the surprise I could have stopped that unfortunate timing,” Hugh chimed in and Barbara slapped her forehead.

“I should have thought of that!” she berated herself, but you and Jenna just looked at each other.

Jenna smiled, her gaze dropping down to her ring, hanging around your neck, visible for anyone paying attention to see it. At least for now, while you were in the back room, getting ready to go back home. “Surprise,” Jenna spoke softly and the two of you hugged.

You lifted her up, and she immediately kissed your cheek as she hugged you back and buried her face in your neck. “It’s so good to see you, Jen,” you whispered, now feeling like this might just be one of the best nights in your entire life.

“I missed you,” her voice came out muffled, and you had to hold back so you wouldn’t just kiss her right then and there. You wanted to do it, so much it almost hurt. Not here though, you couldn’t do it here. She deserved a better spot for your first kiss, someplace better than a backroom of a theatre.

Barbara clearing her throat made you roll your eyes as you gently lowered Jenna down. And that was another reason why you had to restrain yourself. Because Barbara would never let you or Jenna hear the end of it. It would haunt you for the rest of your lives that you couldn’t hold back at least until you were alone.

And even if you could somehow ignore both of those reasons, you couldn’t do it until you were completely honest with Jenna. She had to know what you were involved in.

Jenna blushed and looked to the side, before regaining her composure and turning to Hugh. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Jackman,” she said, offering her hand to him, and you had to hold back your laugh, because that might make Jenna uncomfortable.

“Please, Hugh is fine. The honor is mine, Jenna, I’ve heard so much about you,” Hugh assured her as he accepted her hand.

“Mr. Jackman. That’s hilarious,” you patted Jenna on the back and finally burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of that.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t get to divert attention, Y/N,” Barbara said and smirked, and you tried to shake your head, pleading silently for Barbara to have mercy. “Hugh is being gentle. We’ve heard too much about you. At this point we’ve heard so much about you it turned into a parasocial relationship,” someone kill you, right now.

“That’s one way of putting it. You’ve got our Y/N here, quite enamored with you, miss Ortega,” Hugh flung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer.

This was your life right now. At least Aliyah and Enrique weren’t here as well. You and Jenna might not survive it.

You noticed Jenna getting more embarrassed by the second. “Okay, okay, you’ve had your fun, let’s get out of here,” you ushered them all to finally leave so you could go back to your apartment.

~X~

Jenna supposed she couldn’t really blame everyone for teasing the two of you. In reality it wasn’t just their way of showing love, it was kind of warranted because, well, if Aliyah was sitting on the sofa, pretty much cuddling with some guy, while claiming he was just a friend, Jenna would probably tease her too. And that was the position Jenna was in. The four of you went to your apartment, and Jenna found herself sitting on the sofa and leaning on your side as you had your arm around her shoulders, and to make things even more obvious, Jenna’s arm was around your waist, up until five minutes ago.

The teasing was put on pause for now, though. As you all focused on eating a somewhat late dinner. You and Hugh didn’t get the chance to eat before the charity event, so you were both hungry. If she wasn’t eating Jenna would still have her arm around you, while you were just eating a burrito, so you could do it with one hand.

It was the first time Jenna was in your apartment, and she was taking it in. It looked kind of empty. No pictures, no decorations, nothing. Just furniture, and even that showed how few people came here. The table in the kitchen? In theory four people could eat there, but it really was only big enough for three people to be comfortable, thus the four of you ate in the living room. You did have an extra bedroom, showing that Barbara and Hugh did sleep over often enough for you to consider that a necessity, but barely anything else in the apartment showed you enjoyed living here. It was like this wasn’t a home, but just a place to live in for you, with no emotional attachment. Sure, you were renting it, but this level of detachment was something she definitely wasn’t used to.

There were some books and movies in the apartment, but that was as far as personal touch went. You didn’t even have something as small as a magnet on the fridge, or some tiny decoration on the table in the living room. Hell, Jenna was willing to swear you didn’t even own a flower vase with how bare everything was.

New Year was right around the corner, and that only made the emptiness of the apartment speak even louder.

She glanced at you, remembering how you forgot about Thanksgiving, it made sense now. Of course you would forget something that you didn’t even consider worth putting effort into celebrating, did you? She leaned a bit closer to you, wondering just how living in a place as empty as this one would affect you. Your inability to open up about what was causing you pain certainly made more sense now that she saw the place you lived in.

“You okay?” you whispered softly and she nodded, smiling slightly. You were this warm and attentive despite living in a place as cold as this one. She missed the smiles, genuine smiles, with no intentions of teasing, on both Hugh and Barbara’s faces.

~X~

Jenna would be spending the night, that much was clear, and you found yourself wondering how exactly to approach this. Was it too bold to assume she’d sleep in your bed? With how many nights you spent together it seemed like a natural conclusion to make, but you also didn’t want to make her potentially uncomfortable.

But would getting the spare bedroom ready make it seem like you didn’t want her to spend the night with you? You’d just ask her when Barbara and Hugh leave. Either way you needed another pillow and another blanket because Jenna spent that night at her parents’ house covered in blankets from head to toe, even with the heating on. You weren’t as bothered by cold and she liked warmth, and you would definitely need to add one more blanket to your bed because of that.

You were just pulling a blanket out when Barbara came in and sat down on your bed. “Something’s on your mind,” you said, noticing she became a bit more silent than she usually was as the night went on. It was almost unnoticeable, but you knew her better than perhaps anyone.

“Jenna doesn’t know yet, does she?” and Barbara didn’t even need to clarify what she meant. You understood.

“No, I haven’t told her yet. I don’t know how,” and it weighed heavily on your mind. For the first time since you started fighting you skipped two fights in a row, while still being in Denver. You blocked Davis, you quit. You were adamant that you weren’t going to go back there. Regardless of that, those fights were a big part of the last four years, so big in fact, that hiding that information from Jenna felt like you were betraying her.

You loved her, so much so that you were well-aware that you quitting fights had a lot to do with her. Was it wrong? To make a decision like that because of someone other than yourself? In a way, but you were so far gone that nothing else could probably push you into that decision.

“I get it, I really do, but she deserves to know. No, it’s not just that, you can’t risk hurting her down the line by hiding that,” Barbara sighed, understanding you, but also pushing you to do what was right. What else could you do? Wait and start a relationship with Jenna. Something both of you clearly wanted. And then what? Have the truth come out weeks, months, or even worse, years later and have her lose all of her trust in you?

You didn’t pay attention to the doors opening behind you, you just scoffed, getting somewhat frustrated by the conversation. “I know, Barb, but I need the right moment, I can’t just sit down next to her and go: Hey, Jen, I’ve been fighting in this underground fight club,” you said and were about to continue, but Barbara suddenly froze. and your eyes widened. Why would she? 'No,' that single word went through your mind as you turned around and saw Jenna standing there. Shocked and confused.

“Shit,” Barbara cursed. This was the worst way for Jenna to find out, well, maybe aside from walking in on you all bruised up after a fight. But seeing as you quit fighting, this really was the worse way for her to find out.

"Jen," you tried to speak, but you could barely say her nickname, let alone form a proper sentence.

The look on her face damn near broke you into millions of pieces. Shattering you beyond repair in an instant. "You fight?" she asked.

You looked at her, at the heart-broken expression on her face, at the silent plea not for you to explain, but to tell her you were lying. And you looked down, recognizing that look. You saw it on Barbara's family, only to a lesser extent. "I do," you replied. "In a fight club, barely any rules, might as well be an organized street fight," you said bitterly.

Jenna looked ready to cry, as if her entire world came crashing down in that instance. "What?" she asked, but as you took a step closer, she took a step back. "Please, no. You're lying," tears freely flowed from her eyes now.

You just shook your head, seeing she wasn't comfortable. There seemed to be a rift between you now. A chasm so deep and wide that your words wouldn't reach her.

"I need to go," Jenna said, and your eyes met once more, a silent acceptance of the end in both her and your own eyes. She turned around and you watched as she left, and you felt pain consuming you, threatening to overwhelm you.

"Go after her!" Barbara tried to push you, and then to pull your hand to get you to move, but she just wasn't strong enough. She cried out in frustration and realized you wouldn't move as hard as she tried. "Wait, Jenna," Barbara went after her as Hugh came into your room, confused.

"Y/N?" he asked, but the look on your face told him everything.

"She knows," you shook, on the verge of crying, and you would have collapsed onto the floor if he didn't catch you in time. “She knows, Hugh,” why couldn’t you just let it all out? Why was it so difficult to just cry your heart out?

“Give her time, okay? You’ll be fine, just let it out,” he tried to encourage you, hugging you tightly and you clung to him as if your life depended on it. In some way, maybe it did.

“I can’t,” you gasped, afraid to fall apart, afraid that you wouldn’t be able to put yourself back together if you let it happen.

You could feel Hugh’s jaw tightening next to you. “Fall apart, I’ll be right here with you to pick up the pieces,” he promised, and you shattered like a broken mirror that could never be mended back together, feeling like all the pieces fell through your hands, only to be caught by the man who’s been treating you like his own child ever since you met him.

~X~

This wasn’t happening. This had to be some nightmare, a horrible dream she was just about to wake up from. Jenna leaned against the wall of your apartment building, right next to the entrance, her face buried in her hands as she grappled with the knowledge she just gained.

You fought. You actively went and sought out fights in underground fight clubs.

It all suddenly made sense. That night when you were about to leave, back while you were still filming Scream, and then your occasional wincing when you visited her. You weren’t humoring her, you were actually in pain.

You were involved in something like that.

Jenna felt sick. She felt like vomiting. She felt nauseous, and then hands grabbed her and she looked up, startled, expecting to see you, only to be met with Barbara instead.

“Hey, look, I’m not Y/N, I don’t know how to deal with a panic attack,” that was reassuring. And it also frightened her. Did she look like she was about to have a panic attack?

“Mentioning her definitely isn’t helping me,” she nearly pushed the girl away, wishing she could just be home right now, wishing she could be with someone she could trust completely, and not… you didn’t lie to her, but this was a huge thing to hide.

Barbara’s eyes softened at that, and she even managed to smile a bit as she removed her hands from Jenna’s arms. “Please, at least let me tell you what I know,” she said, and Jenna had no idea how that would possibly help. What reason could excuse not only putting yourself in harm’s way, but also hurting other people.

“I don’t think anything could excuse choosing violence,” especially as dangerous as the one you were involved in. Martial arts sports had rules, and people still died. She remembered countless times her mother came back home, shaken up by someone as young as one of her children getting into a barfight and losing their life or being seriously injured, and her dad had even more of those stories. She was frightened.

Barbara shook her head. “It’s not as simple as you think,” how? What could possibly make her go from absolutely terrified that participating in that willingly. You were actually willing to travel who knows how far, potentially be absent for several days, just to fight, knowing you could get injured, or worse. Not only was it dangerous, but it was also ridiculously irresponsible toward the rest of the cast, as you may have gotten injured to the point of delaying the filming. “Jenna, please, you love her. At least hear me out if you won’t hear her out,” Barbara pleaded.

Jenna laughed bitterly. “I don’t know her. I fell in love with a strong, yet gentle woman, who I thought could never hurt someone. And now I’m finding out she hurts people for money,” tears streamed down her face freely.

“She needed money, Jenna, come on, there’s a small coffee shop nearby, at least let me tell you the basics,” she was desperate, and sure, why not. Might as well get the full picture, humor the reasons that could never be enough to excuse you.

“Fine, whatever,” she sighed, following Barbara into a small coffee shop that would give them enough privacy. Frankly, Jenna wasn’t in the mood for a coffee, more for something stronger, anything to numb what she was feeling right now. She still ordered whatever Barbara ordered, not even properly paying attention. “Why does she fight?”

“It started four years ago,” Barbara began, and Jenna’s eyes widened for a moment. The remark that it’s been going on for so long and that it was all she needed to hear was silenced by the realization of what happened back then.

“To get over the deaths of her parents?” she asked, still disturbed by the idea of you fighting, but a tiny bit more sympathetic. Why couldn’t you just get a better coping mechanism?

Barbara shook her head. “It happened in early September,” that didn’t match what you told her. You said your parents died in December. “A truck driver drove into a restaurant Y/N was in with her parents, it would have been a mercy for everyone if they died right then and there, but they survived. Only they were comatose, on life support and in need on of several surgeries, and even then, their chances were slim.”

Jenna listened closely, horrified that you had to go through that. She knew there was an accident, she never even imagined the horror you must have went through lasting for months.

“Y/N decided to take them to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, believing that would improve their chances,” Jenna knew well enough what that would mean, her mom was a nurse, after all. You would have to transport them probably from Denver to Rochester, and as far as she was aware you wouldn’t be able to get aid for bills, seeing as most states didn’t have that deal with Mayo Clinic.

“Shit,” she lowered her head, seeing where this was going.

“I don’t know when exactly the fighting began. She used up all the savings, sold her family’s apartment with the help of a family lawyer, though for a lot cheaper in order to get the money quickly, but she had no job. You know how acting works, even if she auditioned a lot of time would pass before she would get paid, money ran out and somehow, she found herself in those fights. To this day I don’t know why she didn’t just borrow money from Hugh, he actually had no idea what was going on until the end of November,” Barbara explained, and Jenna just sank into her seat.

“God, that’s,” she couldn’t even find the right words. She just imagined Aliyah or Markus, who were now about the same age as you were back then, in that same position and she could swear she heard her heart breaking.

“She’s still the same person you got to know. I don’t know why she keeps on fighting, Jenna, I thought she had a debt, or that there was a blackmail involved of some sort, but she’s going back there of her own free will. I don’t know how to reach her and get her to explain that,” by now both of them were crying as Jenna buried her face in her hands.

It was horrible. Everything about this. The circumstances that led you down that path, your inability to stop after there was no purpose behind the fights. She could understand every single fight you went to in order to try and save your parents’ lives. But this? Now? She couldn’t understand that.

“I need time to think,” Jenna eventually said, and Barbara nodded.

“That’s all I’m asking. That you don’t cut her off without at least knowing why she began fighting in the first place,” Barbara said softly, and for a moment Jenna thought Barbara might have been more understanding of her than she deserved. You were Barbara’s best friend after all.

“I’m not,” she almost said she wouldn’t cut you off, but realized it was too soon to promise something like that. “We both need space away from one another,” there was resignation on Barbara’s face when she said that, as if she just accepted it, as if she was no longer going to argue.

“I get it,” she really seemed to get it. For a brief moment Jenna thought that maybe, just maybe, the same thoughts were once upon a time crossing Barbara’s mind as well. “Coffee is on me. Might be our last,” she said with a sense of finality in her tone that Jenna wasn’t ready or willing to argue against.

That was also a possibility. All things considered.

Even if she could excuse you, accept this about you, her parents would never be able to do the same.

And between you and her family… it wasn’t a choice she wanted to make, but it was clear to her what she would choose.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018 @godamnityess

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

[mariacallous]

Glad people are finally finding out that these Pro Palestine protestors are ratfuckers-by-design at best (and Republicans at worst) and that's why they support Trump:

https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2024/08/dnc-palestinian-gaza-protests/679524/

One month ago, an NBC News headline reported:

Protesters made a tiny footprint at the RNC in Milwaukee. Other than a modest daytime march on Monday afternoon, the first day of the Republican National Convention, there were virtually no protests over the event’s four days and nights.

Obviously, the story from the Democratic National Convention in Chicago is already proving different.

This is part of a pattern. Gather any large number of Democrats together, in almost any city or state, whether at rallies, fundraisers, or presidential appearances, and pro-Palestinian protesters will try to wreck the event. These actions have been building to threats of outright violence. Pro-Trump and Republican events, meanwhile, are almost always left in peace.

Of the two big parties, the Democrats are more emotionally sympathetic to Palestinian suffering. The Biden administration is working to negotiate the cease-fire that the pro-Palestinian camp claims to want. The administration has provided hundreds of millions of dollars of humanitarian assistance to Palestinians in Gaza. President Joe Biden’s terms for ending the fighting in Gaza envision a rapid movement to full Palestinian statehood.

By contrast, former President Donald Trump uses Palestinian as an insult. His administration moved the U.S. embassy in Israel to Jerusalem, and recognized Israel’s annexation of the Golan Heights. In 2016, Trump campaigned on a complete shutdown of travel by Muslims into the United States; Trump now speaks of deporting campus anti-Israel protesters. He has pledged to block Gaza refugees from entering the United States.

Trump wants to tell the story that he and his party will enforce public order. He alleges that Democrats cannot or will not protect Americans against chaos spread by extremist elements. The pro-Palestinian movement works every day to create images that support Trump’s argument. As a visibly annoyed Vice President Kamala Harris asked protesters in Detroit earlier this month: Do they want to elect Donald Trump?

Not all pro-Palestinian demonstrators are thinking about the election. Many seem driven by moral outrage or ideological passion. But for those who are thinking strategically, the answer is obvious: Yes, they want to elect Trump. Of course they want to elect Trump. Electing Trump is their best—and maybe only—hope.

To understand why, cast your mind back a quarter century.

In the election of 2000, Vice President Al Gore faced Texas Governor George W. Bush. Gore probably would have won in a straight two-way contest. But that same year, the progressive advocate Ralph Nader entered the race as a third-party challenger—and he pulled just enough of the vote to tip the Electoral College and the presidency toward Bush.

Nader later professed regret for running as a third-party candidate. But at the time, Nader understood exactly what he was doing. Defeating Gore and electing Bush was the intended and declared purpose of Nader’s candidacy. Nader detailed his logic in many speeches, including this one to the summer-2000 convention of the NAACP:

If you ever wondered why the right wing and the corporate wing of the Democratic Party has so much more power over that party than the progressive wing, it’s because the right wing and the corporate wing have somewhere to go: It’s called the Republican Party. And so they’re catered to and they’re regaled—like the Democratic Leadership Council, they’re catered to and they’re regaled. But if you look at the progressive wing … they have nowhere to go. And you know when you’re told that you have nowhere to go, you get taken for granted. And when you get taken for granted, you get taken.

To paraphrase his argument even more bluntly: If progressives caused the Democrats to lose the presidency in the election of 2000, then Democrats would take progressives more seriously in all the elections that followed.

Nader’s logic was not altogether wrong. In many ways, the post-2000 Democratic Party has shifted well to the left of where the party was in the 1980s and ’90s. But catering to the party’s left has cost Democrats winnable races, and with them, key priorities: The Iraq War and 20 years of inaction on climate change head the list of progressive disappointments since the 2000 election, and the list extends from there. Whether or not the shift was worth the price, Nader was neither ignorant nor deceived. He identified his goal and willingly accepted the risks for himself and his movement.

So it is now with the pro-Palestinian demonstrators of 2024.

They start with a fundamental political problem: Their cause is not popular. Solid majorities of Americans accept Israel’s war in Gaza as valid and fiercely condemn the Hamas terrorist attacks as unacceptable. The exact margin varies from poll to poll depending on how the question is asked, but when presented with a binary choice between Israel and the Palestinians, Americans prefer Israel by a factor of at least two to one.

The brute fact of those numbers makes it very difficult for pro-Palestinian activists to win elections. In this cycle, despite all the emotion stirred by the Gaza war, two of Israel’s fiercest critics in Congress lost their primaries to pro-Israel challengers.

From the point of view of any practical politician: If a cause is so unpopular that it cannot help its friends, why listen to its advocates?

The only answer to that question, again from the practical point of view, is the message of the protesters in Chicago: Maybe we can’t help you if you do listen to us, but we can hurt you if you don’t!

Think of it another way. Since the bloody attack by Hamas on October 7 and the Israeli response, pro-Palestinian protesters have marched and agitated all over the United States. They have occupied college campuses. They have impeded access to Jewish schools, businesses, and places of worship. They have posted impassioned words and images on social media.

Yet all of their militant action has barely budged U.S. policy. Arms, intelligence, and economic assistance continue to flow from the United States to Israel. U.S. military forces cooperate with Israel against Iranian proxies in Lebanon and Yemen. Although the U.S. has imposed restraint on some Israeli operations, Israel has mostly been allowed to fight its own war in its own way.

These were President Biden’s decisions, not Vice President Harris’s. But she was the second-highest-ranking member of the administration. If Biden’s deputy inherits Biden’s office, the message is clear: His administration’s record of support for Israel carried no meaningful political price. All of those street demonstrations and campus occupations will have amounted to so much empty noise. All of those articles arguing that Gaza explained Biden’s troubles with young voters would be exposed as ideological wishcasting.

If Harris wins, the pro-Palestinian movement will have lost.

If Harris loses, however, pro-Palestinian protesters can claim that they were responsible for her defeat. That claim might not be true—in fact it probably would not be true—but try disproving it. The pro-Palestinian movement would have at least some basis to argue: You lost because you alienated us.

If Harris wins, she may want to do something about the pro-Palestinian cause—for humanitarian reasons, for reasons of diplomacy and geopolitics, for reasons of Democratic-constituency management in particular congressional districts. But she won’t have to do it. She’ll know that the protesters tried to beat her, and they failed.

If Harris loses, however, future Democratic candidates will tread more carefully on Israeli-Palestinian terrain. Even if they privately doubt that the party’s position on Gaza explains anything truly important, they will be worried by advisers and donors who will believe it or who will want to believe it.

But what about Trump? Why aren’t the pro-Palestinian demonstrators in Chicago more fearful of Trump’s possible return to the presidency?

Although the pro-Palestine cause attracts support from progressives, it is not exactly a progressive cause. Americans associate progressivism with secularism, feminism, and gay-rights advocacy, among other causes. The Palestinian national movement, especially now that Hamas has effectively replaced the Palestine Liberation Organization as leader of “the resistance,” has become markedly religious, patriarchal, and socially reactionary. But it is also a movement fiercely opposed to American global hegemony—and that is its “anti-imperialist” appeal to Western progressives.

If you oppose American global hegemony, Trump is your candidate (as a long list of anti-American dictators have already figured out). Trump fiercely opposes the alliances and trade agreements that magnify American power and make the U.S. the center of a huge network of democratic, market-oriented countries. Trump’s “America First” bluster is actually a pathway to American isolation and weakness that will further remove American power from the world.

If you wish America ill, of course you wish Trump well. The far left and far right of U.S. politics may disagree on much, but they agree on that.

The protesters in the streets of Chicago are not acting aimlessly or randomly. The people on the receiving end of their protests would benefit from equal clarity. The protesters want chaos and even violence in order to defeat Harris and elect Trump. They are not ill-informed or excessively idealistic or sadly misled. They are not overzealous allies. They are purposeful adversaries.

The Chicago-convention delegates should recognize that truth, and act accordingly.

[heart-ripping]

Behind Closed Doors.

pairing: Regina Mills (The Evil Queen) X Reader

summary: in the public eye, feared by all in her kingdom. the evil queen reveals a hidden side where she kneels before the woman who secretly controls her heart and an unexpected twist.

words: 3542 words, 20798 characters.

warnings(+18): queen!regina, maid!reader, ownership, abuse of power, submission, pet names, usage of magic, poisoning, praise kink(brief), degrading kink(slight), slight blood and violence.

this scenario came up in my head and i got distracted along the way but i just HAD to write this. hope u guys like this one!

──────────

The grand hall of the throne room was a place of opulence and dread. Gilded columns lined the vast space, their surfaces etched with intricate designs of ancient conquests and mythical beasts. The high, arched ceiling was a tapestry of celestial scenes, painted in vivid hues that seemed to come alive in the flickering light of the grand chandeliers.

At the far end of this magnificent room, elevated on a dais of polished marble, sat the Evil Queen, the ruler whose beauty was matched only by her ruthlessness.

Regina's throne, carved from obsidian and adorned with precious gems, seemed to absorb the light around it, casting an ominous shadow over herself. She sat with cruel authority, her posture rigid, and her gaze piercing. Her eyes scanned the assembled knights and courtiers with a mix of disdain and indifference. She wore a gown of deep crimson, the color of freshly spilled blood, its fabric flowing around her like liquid fire. A crown of black diamonds rested on her brow, its sharp points catching the light in menacing glints.

The knights before her, clad in gleaming armor, shifted uneasily. Their leader, Sir Graham, stepped forward, his expression a mask of grim determination. He bowed low, the sound of his armor clanking echoing through the hall.

"Your Majesty," Graham began, his voice steady but edged with tension, "we have captured the rebels who dared to defy your rule. They await your judgment in the dungeons."

The Queen leaned forward slightly, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Bring them before me," she commanded, her voice a melodious contrast to the venom in her words. "Let us see these fools who thought they could challenge my reign."

As the doors to the throne room swung open, a group of ragged prisoners were dragged in by the guards. Their faces were smeared with dirt and blood, and their eyes were filled with a mix of defiance and fear. Regina's gaze swept over them, her smile widening as she saw their pitiful state.

"You dare to defy me?" she hissed, her voice rising. "You dare to incite rebellion against your queen?" She stood abruptly, the motion causing the knights to flinch. "I am the law in this kingdom. My word is absolute. Those who challenge me face only one fate."

She descended the steps of the dais with a predatory grace, her gown flowing behind her like a river of fire. She stopped before the nearest prisoner, a young man with a battered face and a defiant glare. Regina reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at her.

"Do you know what happens to traitors in my kingdom?" she asked softly, her voice dripping with malice.

The young man spat at her feet, his defiance unbroken. Regina's eyes blazed with fury. She raised her hand, and with a swift, brutal motion, backhanded him across the face. The sound of the impact echoed through the hall, and the man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Take him to the dungeons," she ordered the guards, her voice returning to its heartless tone. "Let him rot with the rest of the scum."

She turned her attention back to Graham and the other knights. "You will root out every last one of these rebels," she demanded. "I want no corner of my kingdom left unchecked. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the knights chorused, their voices trembling slightly.

Regina returned to her throne, her expression once again a mask of uncaring detachment. "Now go," she ordered. "And remember, failure is not an option."

As the knights hurried out of the throne room, Regina's gaze lingered on the empty doorway, a faint smile playing on her lips. She relished the fear she instilled in her subjects, the absolute power she wielded. Here, in the public eye, she was the embodiment of cruel, unyielding authority, a queen who demanded and gained respect through fear and intimidation.

The grand hallways of the castle, lined with ornate tapestries and dimly lit by flickering torches, felt eerily silent as soon as the night began to cast its dark veil. The Evil Queen, her presence imposing even in solitude, walked with measured steps, the sound of her heels echoing through the empty corridors. Her crimson gown, now slightly trailing with the fatigue of the day's harsh rulings, whispered to the shadows that danced along the walls.

As she reached her private chambers, the heavy oak doors creaked open to reveal a sanctuary of opulence and grandeur. The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming through a large window, its beams reflecting off the polished surfaces of gilded furniture and priceless artifacts. Regina closed the doors behind her and sighed, a sound that was more a hiss of displeasure than a release of exhaustion. She moved to her grand canopy bed, its silken sheets cool and inviting. Sitting on the edge, she removed her crown, placing it on the bedside table with a clink of metal against the marble.

Collapsing onto the bed, she allowed herself a moment to breathe, to let the day's relentless performance of power slip away. Her eyes fluttered shut, but the reprieve was brief. A soft knock at the door interrupted her fleeting solace.

"Enter," she groaned frustratedly, her voice sharp despite the weariness that tugged at her.

The door opened hesitantly, revealing a young maid with wide, fearsome eyes. You stepped into the room, your hands trembling as you clutched a silver tray with a goblet of wine.

"I did not summon you," Regina expressed harshly, her eyes narrowing at you.

"I apologize, Your Majesty," you stammered, your voice trembling. "I assume you might enjoy some wine to help you unwind."

Regina's gaze remained unflattering, yet she made no move to dismiss you. "You presume much, entering my chambers without permission. Do not forget your place," she declared, her tone a mix of irritation and authority.

You bowed your head, your face reddening with humiliation. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," you whispered, stepping forward and placing the tray on a nearby table.

Regina's eyes flicked to the wine, then back to you, her expression inscrutable. "Leave it and go," she said curtly, dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

Regina's focus snapped back to the glass of wine, the deep crimson liquid swirling hypnotically in the dimly lit room. She raised the elegant crystal glass to her lips. The tantalizing aroma of the rich red wine filled the air around her. She took a slow, deliberate sip, savoring the complex flavors dancing on her palate.

However, just as the velvety liquid touched her tongue, an unusual sensation sent a shiver down her spine. It was as if something otherworldly surged through the wine, enveloping her senses in a swirling embrace. A rush of warmth spread from her mouth to the tips of her fingers, and at that moment, her eyes seemed to flash a deep, eerie shade of red.

Her heart quickened, and for an instant, the world around her seemed to blur and twist before the feeling vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving her bewildered and breathless.

You stood as you observed, before lowering your head and retreating towards the door. But just as your hand touched the handle, Regina's voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Stop."

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You spun slowly, your eyes broad with apprehension. Regina's attention was fixed on you as she slowly rose from her mattress, her eyes so unwavering and intense, a strange intensity burning in those dark-brown depths. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

"Come here," Regina commanded softly, her voice laced with an undercurrent of something darker—something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You hesitated, your eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Then you took tentative steps forward, your hands still trembling. As you neared the bed, Regina extended a hand, gesturing for you to approach quickly.

"Closer," the queen murmured, her voice now a low purr. You obeyed, stopping just within arm's reach of the bed. Regina's eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail of your appearance.

"Do you know why I keep you?" Regina asked, her tone as cold as the winter's night outside.

You shook your head slightly, your eyes settled on the floor. "No, Your Majesty," you responded softly.

Regina tilted her head to the side, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. With a bold, prideful motion, she lifted your chin. "I keep you because you amuse me. Because you are loyal. And because..." She paused, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "Because you fear me."

Your breath fastened, your eyes darting up to meet her gaze. For a moment, something flickered in her stare—an emotion too fleeting to name.

"Pour me the wine," Regina commanded, her voice regaining its usual imperious edge.

With trembling hands, you picked up the goblet and the carafe, carefully pouring the deep red liquid. You held the goblet out to Regina, your head bowed low. Regina took it, your fingers brushing momentarily. The moment your fingers brushed against each other, a jolt of electricity shot through both of you, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it.

Regina brought the wine to her lips once more, her eyes never leaving you as she swallowed. The rich, dark liquid seemed to invigorate her, and her gaze grew more intense, more penetrating. She drank deeply, each sip refined and unhurriedly, the tension in the room palpable. You stood frozen, your heart thumping in your body, unable to look away from her piercing stare.

As Regina lowered the goblet, her eyes began to glow with an eerie, otherworldly red light. The transformation was subtle at first, a flicker of crimson that slowly intensified until her eyes blazed like embers. You inhaled sharply, taking an involuntary step back, but Regina's gaze held you in place, a silent command that rooted you to the spot.

Without breaking eye contact, Regina set the goblet aside. The room seemed to shrink around you both, the air thick with a tension that was almost tangible. The Evil Queen, the epitome of regal authority, began to move with a grace that was both conscious and assertive. She took a step forward, and then another, her eyes never wavering from you.

And then, in a move that defied all expectations, Regina began to kneel. Her knees touched the ground, her crimson gown pooling around her like a river of blood. Your breath was caught in your throat, and your eyes were wide with shock. You had never seen the queen show vulnerability, let alone kneel before anyone.

Regina's head bowed for a moment, her long, dark hair cascading around her shoulders like a silken veil. When she lifted her gaze, you were met with the full intensity of those glowing red eyes. They were filled with something unspoken—a mix of need and surrender that left your heart racing.

Regina's voice, when it came, was a low, husky whisper. "I am yours," she said, the words almost a plea. "Command me."

You stared down at Regina, your mind racing to make sense of the scene unfolding before you. The Evil Queen, who ruled with an iron fist and inspired fear in all who crossed her path, was now on her knees, submitting to you. It was a moment that shattered all perceptions, leaving you both terrified and exhilarated.

As Regina looked up at you, her red eyes blazing with a strange, fervent intensity, you felt a power shift you had never imagined possible. The night outside grew darker and more silent, as if the world itself were waiting to see what would happen next.

Your heart continued to pulse in your chest, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You began to reach out a quivering hand, your fingers brushing lightly against her cheek. Regina closed her eyes at the touch, a shiver running through her.

"My Queen," you whispered, your voice a mix of awe and confusion.

"Command me," Regina repeated, her voice more insistent, her eyes fluttering to lock onto yours once again. The red glow seemed to pulse with her heartbeat, a visual manifestation of her inner turmoil and desire.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tracing a path down her cheek to her chin. You tilted Regina's head up, causing her to look directly into your eyes. The power you felt in that moment was intoxicating, a heady mix of exhilaration.

"Stand," you ordered gently, yet firmly.

For a moment, it seemed as if Regina might resist, but then she obeyed, rising gracefully to her feet. The red glow in her eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a look of deep, unspoken emotion.

As the tension thickened in the chamber, the air seemed to crackle with an unspoken electricity. The Evil Queen, her eyes still shining with a dim scarlet glow, watched you with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. Regina's own vulnerability—her unexpected submission—had left her on edge, her instincts warring with the unfamiliar sensations coursing through her veins.

But as your grin began to appear slowly across your lips, Regina's unease deepened. There was something unsettling about the way you looked at her—a gleam of triumph in your eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

"What is it?" Regina asked, her voice low and cautious.

Your grin enlarged, and your eyes sparkled with newfound confidence. "Oh, nothing, Your Majesty," you replied, your tone innocent yet tinged with something darker, something that set Regina's nerves on edge.

Before she could respond, you took a step forward, your movements intended and purposeful. Regina tensed, her instincts screaming at her to flee, to regain control of the situation before it spiraled out of her grasp. But something held her in place—a strange fascination with the woman standing before her, a fascination tinged with a growing sense of dread.

"What have you done?" Regina demanded, her voice betraying her rising panic.

Your smile dilated further, a flash of triumph in your eyes. "I simply offered you a drink, My Queen," you stated, your tone mocking with a hint of sarcasm. "A drink laced with a little something extra."

Regina's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing to comprehend the implications of your words. A spell. The wine had been enchanted with a spell, a trance designed to force submission and bend the will of its drinker to the caster's command. And she had drunk it willingly, having allowed herself to be ensnared by its insidious power.

The realization sent a surge of anger through Regina's veins, her fear giving way to a burning fury that threatened to consume her. She clenched her jaw, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"You dare to manipulate me?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Your smile faltered slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your features. But then you straightened, your gaze defiant.

"You've ruled with fear and cruelty for too long, Your Majesty," you grimaced, your voice steady despite the tension crackling between you both. "It's time for a change."

Regina's mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of rage and betrayal. She had been outmaneuvered, outsmarted by a mere servant. The humiliation burned like acid, eating away at her pride and her power. But beneath the anger, beneath the fear, there was something else, something she couldn't quite name—a spark of admiration, perhaps, for the woman who had dared to challenge her, to defy her.

The room seemed to spin around you, the air heavy with the weight of your confrontation. Regina narrowed her gaze as she bore into yours, searching for any hint of weakness, any sign of vulnerability. But you stood tall and stubborn, your eyes blazing with a fierce determination that sent a thrill of something akin to admiration through Regina's veins.

And then, in a sudden, unpredictable twist of luck, Regina felt something shift within her. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing a flood of emotions she had long kept buried deep within her heart. Fear, anger, pride—all of it melted away, leaving only a strange sense of liberation in its wake.

Regina's eyes flashed, but this time—a glowing purple hue, reflecting the intensity of her emotions as she felt a familiar purple mist slowly enveloping her entire body before it disappeared like a mist of strings. Regina smirked in delightful satisfaction as she began to realize what was happening. The spell—the spell had worked, but not as you had planned. Instead of forcing Regina to submit, it had stripped away the layers of armor she had built around herself, revealing the powerful woman beneath.

A slow, rueful smile spread across her lips as she looked at you, her eyes alight with a newfound clarity. "Foolish girl, you thought you could control me," she snickered playfully, her voice soft yet filled with an undeniable strength. "But you underestimated me."

You flinched in disbelief, the ground suddenly feeling unsteady beneath you as doubt crept in for the first time since your intense altercation formed. "What are you saying?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the beat of your heart.

Regina moved closer, taking a step forward to narrow the distance between you. "Let me make it clear for you," she towered over you, her voice low and husky, dripping with malicious intent, sending shivers down your spine as if darkness itself had taken form in her words. "You may have thought you had me at your mercy, but you were wrong."

And then, with a sudden, swift movement, Regina reached out and forcefully clutched your wrist, pulling you close until your bodies were inches apart. You breathe in, but before you can react, Regina leans in and smashes her lips against yours.

As your lips met in a searing kiss, a sudden rush of sensation swept through the both of you. Regina's heart throbbed in her chest, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. As she continued to manifest her dominance, Regina began to fiercely insert her tongue into your mouth, and a strange, tingling sensation began to spread through your lips as if something were coating your tongue with a thick, viscous liquid.

Regina pulled back abruptly, a sinister laugh could be heard from her lips as she looked down at you. The wine had transferred to your mouth during your kiss, carrying with it the control spell that had been intended for her.

You panted heavily, your pupils dilating in horror as the harsh reality dawned on you. You staggered back, your hand flying to your mouth as you tasted the bitter, metallic tang of the enchanted wine. Your heart raced with panic as you struggled to comprehend the implications of what had just occurred.

Regina's gaze hardened as she watched your reaction, a cold fury burning in her eyes. "Pathetic," she snickered, her voice dripping with disdain. "It seems the tables have turned."

You stumbled backwards, your mind spinning with fear and confusion. You had never intended for things to escalate like this, never anticipated that the spell would backfire in such a catastrophic manner. You had only wanted to level the playing field, to challenge the queen's power and authority. But now, as you felt the weight of the spell pressing down on you, you realized that you had made a grave mistake.

Regina's amusement grew as she advanced on you, her movements gradual and greedy. "Did you really think you could overpower me?" she teased, her voice a deadly whisper. "I'll show you what it means to be at someone else's mercy."

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you felt her body cornering you against the wall with your heart throbbing painfully in your chest. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape, but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You were trapped, ensnared by your own arrogance and folly.

Regina's hand shot out and seized your jaw in a firm, unrelenting grip, causing you to tilt your head upwards to meet her gaze full of hatred and revenge.

"Don't hold it back," She ridicules, her voice low and taunting. "Let it come." Your eyes blinked rapidly and glazed with a mix of terror and the residual effects of the spell, locked onto Regina's, searching for any hint of mercy, of reprieve. But there was none to be found.

Her fingers dug into the soft flesh of your cheeks, her nails biting into your skin with enough force to leave marks. You winced, but the queen's grip only tightened further.

Regina's eyes never left you, her expression a twisted mask of conquering and ruthlessness. She reveled in your helplessness, in the way you whimpered beneath her touch. Regina began to lean toward your side, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice a seductive whisper.

"Good girl," she praised, her voice a hush, raspy whisper filled with dark satisfaction. "That's right. You belong to me." You closed your eyes, a single tear slipping down your cheek as you surrendered to The Evil Queen's will.

──────────

[srngrque]

whispers of love.

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. fluff trent who is yours, yours and yours.

Trent looked more astonishing under the sunlight that gleamed through the curtain that did not fully shade your room. He was sleeping on his stomach as his arm was wrapped around you; with the same sleeping position, you only slept a few inches away but you fully felt the warmth that oozed out from his presence.

In his strong arm, you settled perfectly like a puzzle that found its piece, like you were meant to be in his arm. You leaned his head slightly forward to glance at your man who had been sleeping peacefully. Not helping yourself, you gawked at your lover. Your heart ached at the way he had a small pout formed, his thick lips looking more kissable. You had a small smile gracing your face; letting your eyes linger around the long eyelashes that touched his skin.

It only longed you for his doe dark brown eyes to look at you.

You cooed softly, eyes softening at the man who is an extravagant footballer in the eyes of the public, but as the curtain closed, he was just a man who you are immensely in love with, who is your man.

Before you could shake Trent awake, he rubbed his eyes as he slowly stretched his arms briefly to hold you tighter; you laughed as you could almost lay your whole body on top of Trent. Without looking, you knew his face hung with a lazy smile that reached his eyes.

"Slept good?" You asked gently. Slipping away from his grip, you grabbed a random jersey of Trent that was on the floor. He groaned loudly as he used your pillow as leverage to stare at you having him completely whipped.

Trent eyed you moving to his side to sit at the edge of the bed, next to him. "What do you want for dinner?" He asked reaching his arms wide open for you to cuddle him. You considered thinking of a few meals that are worth making or, you could just force Trent to go back to sleep with you.

But you have already gotten out of bed after being lazy for the whole day. In the utter silence, Trent observed you with his soft eyes glancing at every part that he has kissed, adored, and loved earnestly.

You had settled at the edge of the bed next to him, with no words exchanged. You danced your fingertips on his face, your eyes twinkling in adoration for the love of your life; while Trent lay in silence letting you do whatever you want.

He snaked his arm around your waist to move you forward. "You know what you are?" He asked hoarsely after waking up, his hot breath hitting your skin. You giggled, Trent never failed to amuse you with his thick scouser accent that you have grown to understand being around him and his family.

Your hand tightens its grip on his shoulder, raising your eyebrows. "The best thing that has ever happened to you." You lightly tapped the tip of his nose, jokingly. Trent laughed loudly throwing his whole body on the bed. Annoyingly you smacked his chest, "But I am." You persistent, obviously.

He nodded. Trent calmed himself down, "You are, baby. You are."

With that, the room fell into silence again. Your apartment was still new as you just moved in, so the soft curtains were not helping that was shining bright where Trent kept squinting his eyes.

You straddled on his hip, "Is the sunlight bothering you, sir?" You dramatically shielded his eyes away from the sunlight. Trent chuckled, his thick hand running under your (his) jersey. He smoothly ran his fingertips on your naked back as you gasped at his touch.

"Why? Are you going to protect me from it?" He challenged, raising his eyebrows in question. Your whole heart swam in love as you found yourself loving his face once again. Trent did look the most beautiful waking up just next to you, completely fazed out. You threw your head back, "You know I will be protecting you from anything in this world, baby." You confessed, your tone barely hiding the vulnerability of how honest each word was that traveled through your lips.

"You are my girl," Trent established, "right?"

"I am," You pecked his left cheek. "I am," You pecked his right cheek. "I am your girl." You peppered gently kisses all over his face.

"I love you too, now please cook some food for me." He groaned as his stomach rumbled. You laughed, detaching yourself away from him. You made your way toward the kitchen, knowing it would be him cooking, and you would be sitting on the counter watching him cook.

But really, you do not mind living like this for a lifetime.

[darlingsfandom]

Let Me Show You .

Dr. Johnathan Crane x Plus Sized! Reader.

TW: humiliation , choking, breeding, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex!

Lighting flashed across the sky giving some light into your cell where you laid on the soft bed. It wasn’t your fault that you ended up in here, how long does it last until you can’t the taunting anymore? For you it lasted your whole life until ten months ago when the coil inside of you snapped!

You had made yourself face the public and go out one night. You just needed one night to go out and try to be social but that ended with you on top of a man punching him until your knuckles were bloodied and bruised as he laid there laughing until he started to go unconscious. He had pulled on your hair while you were trying to make your way to the bars bathroom making you gasp so he took it as a challenge with his friends. He teased you by calling you ugly names , commenting on how your clothes really outlined your rolls , how you looked like a made up pig! You had enough! The words you’ve heard for your whole life finally took its toll and now here you were lying in the asylum.

You stood trail and since you had a squeaky clean record along with one of the best public defenders in all of Gotham you only had to serve six months unless you followed good behavior and could get out earlier. The sentence was fair and you were to also be under the care of Dr.Johnathan Crane Gothams best psychiatrist. That was the best part. He didn’t see you as another patient, probably because almost everyone there was another male and you were one of the only females in there. Of course they didn’t have love handles or tummy rolls like you and it still irritated you.

The sound of your cell opening perked up your ears making you sit up.

“Good evening Y/N” The sly smile on his lips made you tingle in a way that it shouldn’t. Dr.Crane waited for you to stand so he could take you to his office for your mandatory session. Both of you walked in silence until you were in his office standing nervously . “You know you can sit. You’ve sat on that couch every day for the last month, what’s the matter now ?” He circled around like a shark in water making your thighs clench.

“What if I break…”

“You’re not going to break it!” He snapped at you before grabbing your shoulders and looking into your eyes. “Go sit on it!” You swallowed hard before you carried yourself to the black leather and sat on the edge. “All the way.” He spoke up. You nodded and sat in the middle of the couch folding your hands in your lap.

“Clearly you’re not doing what I’ve told you.” Dr. Crane sat in his own chair with his legs crossed. You couldn’t argue with him. He raised his eyebrow at you and clicked his tongue before pinching the bridge of the his nose.

“I know you think that since I’m male that I know nothing of how the female brain works. That I don’t understand that when you look in the mirror that your poke at all your insecurities. You THINK that you’re ugly because your stomach folds and hangs, your arms jiggle when you raise them and your delicious thighs…” he coughed “I mean your thighs, yes they touch and rub but you need that.”

Your mouth hung open for a split second when he called your thighs delicious, that was a joke right? You looked down at your feet while holding your stomach. Dr.Crane stood up , walked up to you , grabbed your hand and stood you up. He walked with you out of his office, down the hallway to a part of the asylum you had never seen before. It was dark, wet and yet still felt welcoming. He opened a door and pulled you inside.

“Where?” Before you could finish your sentence he had his hand over your mouth.

“Shh. This is our secret.” He whispered in your ear when he flicked on the light. The room wasn’t big, it was poorly lit, a single bed in the middle of the room and in the corner was a giant mirror. He walked you over to the mirror and made you stand there. You tried to turn away but he grabbed you by your wide chin and forced you to look at yourself.

“You’ve heard how ugly you are , how you’re unwanted , unattractive…” his words were bringing tears to your eyes as you looked yourself in the mirror. “You look like a barnyard animal, but that’s what years of damage do to the ego. You’ve been brainwashed into thinking you’re all those things.”

Dr. Crane stood behind you in the mirror holding your face with a soft grip. “Now I want you to say all the nice things about your body.”

“I can’t ! My body is ug-“ His hand quickly wrapped around your throat and squeezed enough to take your breath away.

“Say something nice.” He gritted his teeth against your ear. He let go of your throat making you gasp.

“My… body.. “ your hands ran over your stomach as he watched with darkened eyes.

“Is soft?” He gave you a decent smile.

“There you go. Nothing wrong with having a soft body.” His hands ran over your sides before giving your love handles a big squeeze making you giggle. “How cute!” Crane gave your hips another squeeze before pulling them towards his own hips.

“Tell me something else nice about your soft beautiful body.” His words had a hint of lust wrapped around them. Crane watched as you chewed your lip looking at yourself through the dirty glass. His hand found your throat again and squeezed it enough to make your eyes roll back.

“It’s not that hard darling!” Crane used his free hand to grope your boobs. “These are nice! Say something nice about them.” He let go of you with a small shove making you stumble forward. Your hands gripped the mirror. No thoughts were in your mind , no words could leave your mouth.

“Fine, if you can’t say it…. I’ll show you.” His hands reached up and ripped opened your shirt exposing your breasts. “See!” He yanked you up straight by your hair making you whine. The little whine made him smirk. “Look at your breasts!”

“They’re not that …” Crane slapped your face making you whimper before forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror.

“You’re too hard on yourself darling. You’re a beautiful girl .” He finished ripping your clothes off making you stand in front of the mirror completely naked. He grinned ear to ear. “Look at you!” He ran his hands all over your body giving your most hated areas a squeeze. “I don’t know anyone couldn’t find you attractive. You’re a smart young lady with beautiful curves, delicious thighs and your breasts … “ Crane kissed the side of your neck making your knees buckle. He held your hips as he bent you forward . Your fingers gripped the sides of the mirror while Crane dragged his finger tips over your thighs.

Your body felt hot from his touch. You couldn’t tell if he just wanted you for sex or if he truly did find your body to be beautiful. Your thoughts disappeared when his hands spread your thighs.

“Since you’re struggling to accept how beautiful you are, maybe this will teach you.” His index finger slid inside of you while his other hand squeezed the side of your throat keeping your head turned to face the mirror. “It’s my job as your doctor to make sure you get those nasty ideas out of your head.” Crane worked his finger inside of you twisting it in a way you’ve never felt. You were so used to your hand and toys but to feel his slender finger going deeper than your use to felt amazing. He slid another finger inside of you while keeping the soft pressure on your neck. Your eyes were closed which angered him until he heard you mumbling.

“feels so good.” Your voice was trembling which made him smile.

“Yeah? Why does it feel good?”

“Because you’re touching me! You see my soft body!”

“Good girl!” Crane nibbled your ear lobe while fingering your pussy like his life depended on it. “You’re so close, I can tell.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Dr. crane I’m so close!” You cried out. The coil in your stomach was about to snap right there at any second until he pulled his fingers away making you whine.

“Oh honey, you don’t get to cum now. You were a bad girl. You can’t even tell me what you like about your body.” Crane licked his fingers clean while watching how you pouted your bottom lip at him through the mirror. Once he was done he grabbed your hand and took you over to the old style medical bed that had leather straps.

“Nooo!” You went to run but he grabbed your hair and yanked it backwards.

“Don’t be dumb. I’m not going to hurt you.” He shoved you down on the bed making your squirm below him. You gulped in panic as he huffed. “Normally yes, my patients get strapped down and are subjected to unusual treatments for therapy but not you.” He stood up and quickly restrained your arms. “You my dear… I’m going to make you a mommy.”

Your eyes went huge! You quickly tried to struggle against the leather which made him chuckle before gripping your chin. “Stop! Or I will subject you to those type of treatments.” He gave you a little smack before standing there undressing himself slowly. Tears filled your eyes until you looked at him and it flooded your mind… Dr.Crane was on the opposite end of the scale. He wasn’t buff or anything, he did understand your pain. People always judged his body, how fragile he looked. He was beautiful to you and he had spent all this time making you see that you are beautiful just the way you are.

“Dr. Crane..” you mumbled as he crawled on top of you. His fingers traced over your cheek gently almost lovingly.

“What is it ?” He pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Why me? Why make me a mommy? Why would you put a baby in me?” You turned your lips out at him as he looked into yours.

“Because you are mine! You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met. Not mention you can kill a man with your bare fists. A strong, smart, beautiful woman, you’re what I’ve always needed and now I’ve you and you’re not going anywhere . You see…” his hands grabbed at your thighs and spread them open . He grinned down at your pussy before lining the head of his cock up to your folds, slowly he slid in while grabbing your hands and locking your fingers together.

“When I heard about, I followed you. I watched your trail closely. I learned everything I could about you. I need you! You need me.” He pushed his cock all the way inside of you making you scream. “Oh pretty girl!” He moaned out. “That’s a good girl.” Crane closed his eyes at the feeling of how tight you were squeezing his cock. You laid there with tears running down your cheeks as he thrusted into you. Your legs were still unrestrained which meant you could try to kick him off, but he held your legs up to drill into you deeper making you moan in pleasure because he was reaching at spot you’ve never felt.

“You’re going to be such a beautiful mommy! Going to make such beautiful, intelligent babies with you !” His mouth hung open while he looked deep into your ears as he fucked you faster. You looked into his eyes softly while wrapping your legs around him tightly.

“Good girl, you want me to make you a mommy so badly .” He leaned down and kissed you passionately , it was romantic and sweet. Crane felt his own orgasm about to break as he slowed down his thrusting holding your hips tightly. He cried out your name with a loud groan and held you in place as his cum shot deep into your cervix.

“You’re going to make me a beautiful mommy.” You whimpered feeling his cum fill you up. Crane looked up at you with a smile . “I knew that would fix you.” He huffed as he held your legs in the same upward position. Crane reached down between your bodies and found your clit. He rubbed it hard until the familiar feeling was about to wave over you.

“Cum for me pretty girl!” He looked into your eyes as your orgasm gushed out of you. You choked out his name as he held your face in his hands.

“You did such a good job. And don’t worry , if this time didn’t take…. I’m not going to stop until you and I have made the most precious thing ever.” His words were sincere. Dr.Crane had made his mark on you more ways than one and you would have never imagined that this is how you ended up in life, but all of it lead you here as his.

[jasonsiceberglounge]

THE HILLS HAVE EYES 1.

[a/n: i wrote this whilst listening to preachers daughter, i think it fits the tone]

tags: cursing, blood, general 18+ content (not nsfw), gun mention, grief

jason never got to know how loved he was, buried amongst silt that long knew the smell of gotham before he breathed his first breath. his lungs once filled with toxin now buried in natures first hydrocarbon. he never got to know how you loved him, cherished him, desired him.

the air amongst the wayne graveyard, despite how pitifully sad it was, felt like the brisk air of the night you met the gruffly boy. tears slowly burned their way down your cheeks, resting between the opening of your lips that you so desired to scream with, to kiss his corpse with, to breathe him in again.

"you said you'd never leave me you piece of shit." your words dancing with a venomous bite, praying that he heard the plea. you didn't believe in god, hardly anyone who spent more than 4 days in gotham ever could, the closest they've got is to bruce beating up a couple of lowly rent hogging fucks, allowing the tenants to afford groceries that month. you hated this place, everyone did, but the cogs will spin regardless.

something about that spiteful boy kept you spinning, kept the world spinning, he met you starry eyed and bleating like a baby goat when his eyes met the title of the book you cradled in that library. the isles of gotham public library held so many unsafe memories, unsafe to conceptualize. you feared you may spiral so deeply that you could never desire to spin again.

"you like dostoevsky?" he quipped, his bright blue eyes analyzing-no, predicting the words you were about to grace him with.

"like is a very strong word, i enjoy his intelligence" you pursed. you don't think anyone could like the grim author, however, it was mentally challenging. the average reading level of gotham was politely displayed amongst these shelves, the library more familiar with the cake of dust than the attendees. if you wanted anything it was to be smarter than anyone in the room, you had to have some kind of advantage in a city like this.

"well i like him, his words are strangely human and carnal. just like this town." his voice trailed off gravelly at the end, his disdain for the rot prevalent, maybe he was just like you.

your knees sunk into the dirt, jeans caked with soot. his pitiful grave almost laughed back at you, how could he leave before i did? how could.. how could he escape this town without me? the thought of how he died forcing bile up your throat, the red taste of metal coating your insides. you would never understand his world, but god you tried. bruce always liked you and told you the gods honest truth about exactly how he.. died.

your hatred for gotham forced a cog backwards, thus spinning a chain reaction. they would pay for his sacrifice, they all would.

you pushed your hands into your knees, the sensation of dirt on the denim material unnerved your skin. a deep sigh caked your lungs, the 5 stages of grief whirling around your mind like a deaths dance. you had to do something about this, if bruce wouldn't kill him, you had to.

a bullet in his brain for every time he got away with it. you visualized pulling the trigger in so many ways that your mind blended both your face and jokers together, was your soul tarnished already? had gotham taken you as it's next victim?

you would rid this city of it's plague, in the name of jason. and god willing no one would ever stop you.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Anatomy Class

kai parker x reader

summary: kai + magic + boredom = trouble

tags: high school au, siphoning, magical fingering, masturbation (semi-public)

word count: 1.8k

a/n: i tagged this right next to my dad; you're both 18 in this!

“You have to promise to use this wisely and not get caught with it. Not in school, and certainly not at home,” you reiterate to Kai for maybe the third time in twenty minutes. 

“I know, I know! Trust me, princess, I know the risks.”

“If it runs out, I can give you more, but if my parents suspect something’s up, they’ll find a way to contact yours.”

“But what if I run out before the day’s over and it’s just wasted? If I don’t use it, it drains.”

You sigh. “What are you suggesting?”

“I don’t know… can’t I just play with it a little? I can’t do that much damage during school hours. Worst I could do is make some kid trip over his shoelaces.”

“Kai!”

“I’m kidding! But seriously, Y/N…”

“Okay, I see your point. Do whatever you want with it, just don’t get caught.”

“And if I run out, you’ll give me more?” He hates to sound greedy, but he’s desperate.

“Of course. I can’t imagine what it’s like to not have permanent access, so as little as I use mine, I might as well give it to you.” He nods. “But again, be careful.”

“I will.”

“Okay. We’re coming up on the school now. Take my hand.”

He does, and then you nod to him to siphon. “Tell me when to stop.”

Your hands glow, but it doesn’t hurt. Kai says when he siphons his siblings, it hurts them. But you don’t feel any pain. If anything, your body warms with a tingly, pleasure-like feeling. After about thirty seconds, you start to feel a little dizzy though, and decide that’s a good time to cut him off. 

“Stop.”

He drops your hand immediately. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No pain, just a little dizzy.”

“Okay,” he confirms. He’d hate to hurt the one person who’s ever given him any love and attention. 

“How do you feel?”

Kai smiles as the magic runs through his veins. He lets out a small moan that settles in the pit of your stomach. “Good,” he finally answers. He then takes the pencil you’ve stuck behind your ear and makes it float in the air. 

“Good,” you say, stopping for a moment to kiss the side of his face. You take your pencil back as the school comes into view. “See you in class?”

“Mhm.” 

The two of you walk up to the doors together, then part ways for your first class. 

You have third period together, but Kai sits all the way in the back, while you’re in the middle row. The teacher assigned the seats, and rudely placed his kids by favoritism: most engaged in the front; most uninterested in the back. Kai’s incredibly smart, but that comes to his disadvantage in school. Most of the lessons are boring; he passes them with flying colors and faces little challenge completing them. He finishes early, or already understands the material, and ends up tapping his foot or fingers during class. Mr. Peters interprets this as disrespect and boredom. 

Today in class, you’re reviewing the different systems in the body. Yet another topic that Kai has practically memorized. The final exam is in three weeks, though with the material being as difficult as it is, Mr. Peters has decided to start studying early. The material isn’t too much of a challenge for you, though Kai still has you beat in that matter. 

The man makes a list of topics on the chalkboard, then slowly goes down his list asking and answering questions about each one. He asks something and the class responds, but every so often, someone asks their own question, and he launches into a huge explanation for it. It’s during one of your classmate’s questions that you suddenly start to feel a heaviness in the bottom of your stomach. 

Immediately, you put a hand to it. Your mind races to think of what could’ve caused it. You hadn’t eaten anything weird that day, nor have you had any aches or pains all week. In the middle of your train of thought, the feeling shifts lower. There’s a pressure traveling south. In the next moment, it feels like circles being rubbed down along your body. Intentional pressure. Kai. 

Your brain provides the reason as soon as you recall your morning: you gave him magic. 

“Do whatever you want with it,” you had told him. 

Well, he sure is now. 

Slowly, you turn to face him. His hands are hidden from sight, inside his desk, but the smile creeping on his face is unmistakable. He’s certainly messing with you. 

Stop, you mouth to him. 

The bastard only winks. 

You turn back around and cross your legs over each other, squeezing them tight. There’s no freaking way he’s doing this in the middle of class. 

The pressure suddenly increases. You can almost feel the pads of his fingers touching you - one on your clit, two brushing your folds. You bite your lip so hard it might bleed. Your hands are clenched into fists underneath the table. 

“Kai, stop,” you think, hoping there’s even a point one percent chance he can read your mind. He doesn’t, though, and if anything, mimics dipping between your folds, feeling your walls. 

“The organs involved in the endocrine system are- Y/N,” your teacher stops mid-sentence to look at you, “are you okay?!”

You release your fists, hoping to look less suspicious. “Yeah. I have a stomach ache. Do you- do you mind if I go to the restroom?”

Mr. Peters hurries to his desk for a hall pass. “Not at all. Go to the nurse if it doesn’t feel better in ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” You take it and hurry out the door.

You spare a glance at Kai on your way out. He smirks at you when you look at him, but then looks back at his hands, clearly focused. The feeling sharpens, and you dash out the door. 

As soon as you reach the bathroom, you fling yourself against the wall in the nearest stall. You’re still biting your lip not to moan, but don’t fight the need that brings you to unbuckle your belt to relieve some of the built-up tension. Criminally, it seems Kai can still control you despite the distance. You can still feel his finger-pads petting your walls. The pressure is still on your clit, and it only grows by the minute. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, feeling yourself getting close. 

You drop two fingers to your clit, rubbing it yourself. Your knees almost buckle, and you have to push your toes against the edge of the toilet to not slip. 

“Goddammit, Kai.” It’s a whisper, but you really hope no one else is in the bathroom right then. 

You focus on the way he feels on you, as well as the added pressure you’re giving yourself. Within two minutes’ time, you come. It hits you hard. Your knees almost give out, despite the way you tried to hold yourself upright. Your chest heaves; the sensation sends pleasure throughout your whole body. Your vision gets spotty, and soon, your lip starts to bleed. It’s overwhelming in all the best ways. 

After another few seconds, Kai seemingly retracts his fingers. You curse him the minute he does, remembering you’re in school, and you’re supposed to be studying in class right now. 

The moment you get your bearings, you stumble to your feet and towards the sink. You wash your hands and grab onto the solid material to ground yourself; your brain is still swimming in post-high fuzzies. 

“Fuck you, Kai,” you think, again telepathically, hoping he can hear you. If he can, you’d bet your life on the fact that he’s wearing his signature smirk. 

When you finally recover, you make your way back to class. You offer Mr. Peters a half smile and report that most of it is gone. “Must’ve been something I ate this morning,” you lie. 

He replies with his own smile and a nod, and goes back to teaching. 

The moment you sit, you turn to see Kai, who is, in fact, smirking at you. You give him a playful roll of your eyes before turning back to the lesson.

Luckily, that’s his only shenanigan for the day. During lunch and your other classes together, he dares to act innocent. You would scold him for it during lunchtime, but Jo is sitting with you today, preventing that entirely. 

The walk back to school provides the perfect timing. 

“Malachai Parker,” you say in your best authoritative voice.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Did I do something wrong?! Did I do- you know what you did.”

“I don’t recall.”

“Third period. You and your magic fingers. You-”

“Oh,” he has the nerve to laugh, “that. Did you like that?”

“Did I like that?! Kai, during class?!”

“You said I could do whatever I wanted as long as I didn’t get caught. I didn’t get caught.”

You scoff. “I did not mean for you to do that!”

“But you liked it. What’d you do in the bathroom?”

“What?!”

“Why’d you go to the bathroom?”

“To hide the fact you were fingering me in class! What do you think I went for?!”

“Did you come?”

“Excuse me?”

“Simple question, princess.”

“I did not-”

“Don’t lie to me now.”

“Fine,” you bite your lip, “I did.”

He smiles. “Got you. Knew you liked it.”

“That was so inappropriate! I’d never think you’d be so bold. And when did you know when to stop? You did, like, ten seconds after I finished.” 

He chuckles like it’s a game. “The last five times I’ve fingered you, it’s taken you five minutes on average to come. I watched on my watch; three minutes happened in class, two in the bathroom. I gave ten seconds to spare to either get you there if you needed extra time, or to ride you through it. Turns out, I’m pretty spot on.”

“Putting your brain to great use,” you mumble, “and my magic.”

Suddenly, he looks nervous. “You’re still gonna give it to me, right? I didn’t lose my chances to have it, did I? Because I can behave. Y/N, I promise. It won’t happen again.”

You change your attitude to match his. “Oh, baby, no. No, I’m not like that. Don’t you worry about stuff like that. I’m still gonna give you magic, even if you use it in questionable ways.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. But one condition.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Wait until actual study time, like in the library, to do it. Not in class. Unless we’re watching a movie.”

“Deal.”

“Good.”

“I love you, you little weasel.”

He scrunches his nose at the nickname. “I love you, too.” Then he chuckles. “I fingered you in class.”

“Kai!”