#reading this serious and sober stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aceyalonso · 2 months ago

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we're both winners, sweetheart - LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader | READ PART 1 HERE

summary : Y/n and Lewis going through the typical struggles of marriage (or in other words, the struggle of keeping up the charade of being married)

warnings : THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE STORY IS FAKE!!! swearing, kinda angsty, drinking, nail-biting, talking about sex (nothing too detailed), discussions of raising a family, 11-year age gap (reader is 28 years old), smut, hair pulling, unintentional overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!)

face claim - gracie abrams

word count : 18.6k

song : agora hills - doja cat

a/n : this isn't proofread and SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I WAS DEALING WITH SO MUCH PERSONAL STUFF OMG (this was supposed to be fore my 300 followers celebration thing | i might make a separate series for lyka and lando…………………………

July 8, Monday, 7:09 AM

Toto Wolff sits behind his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Y/n and Lewis sit on the other side, both looking a bit sheepish and on edge. Toto looks at them, a moment of awkward silence hanging in the air before he finally speaks. "So," he begins, his voice cautious. "I have to say, this is... quite a situation you've gotten yourselves into."

Lewis clears his throat, his gaze meeting Toto's. "Yeah, we kind of... didn't see this coming," he admits, a hint of humor in his tone. "It was a very unexpected development, to say the least."

Y/n fidgets in her seat, her fingers massaging her forehead. She glances at Toto, his expression still unreadable. She tries to sound calm and rational, but her voice betrays her nervousness. "We weren't... fully sober when it happened," she offers lamely, as if it's an excuse.

Toto's eyebrow quirks at this revelation, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Not fully sober," he repeats, his tone heavy with incredulity. "You got married... not fully sober?"

Lewis grimaces slightly at the bluntness of his words but doesn't deny it. "That... that's correct," he affirms, his voice a bit strained. "We were both a bit... impaired when we tied the knot, let's put it that way."

Toto rubs his forehead, seeming to struggle with how to respond to this information. He gathers himself and looks at them again, his expression more somber now. "And what exactly were you doing that led to this... marriage?" he asks, his tone slightly stern.

Lewis and Y/n exchange a glance, both knowing the answer will likely not help their case. Lewis speaks up first, his voice a bit sheepish. "We, ah... we were at a club. A very lively club, if you understand."

Toto leans forward in his chair, expression now a mix of thoughtfulness and strategy. "Okay," he says, "this is clearly a situation that will need some serious damage control if it gets out. We'll need the PR team to make something, anything to spin this in a way that... minimizes the impact on your image, Lewis, and the teams' reputation."

Y/n coughs, breaking the silence in the room and drawing everyone's attention. She clears her throat, feeling a bit awkward under the weight of Toto and Lewis' gazes. "Um, forgive me," she apologizes, her voice a bit hoarse. "But what... what are you suggesting?"

Toto's eyes shift to her, his expression still calculating. "Well, we need to control the narrative," he explains. "We need to get ahead of any potential media storm and craft a story that… makes this look less like a drunken mistake and more like a… a romantic love story, perhaps."

Lewis can't help but scoff slightly at this, his mouth tugging into a wry smile. "A romantic love story, huh?" he muses, skepticism in his tone. "Do you really think anyone's going to believe that?"

Toto's gaze hardens at Lewis' flippant comment. "At this point, any narrative is better than the truth," he says, his voice firm. "We need to protect your image, Lewis, and the team's reputation. We need to control the damage, and that means spinning this in a way that… makes you both look as good as possible."

Y/n mutters under her breath as Toto and Lewis continue their discussion, unable to hide her growing concern. "My dad is going to kill me," she whispers, her voice a mixture of dread and resignation. She imagines her father's reaction to this news, the fury and disappointment in his eyes.

She finally speaks up, her mind turning to her own interests in this situation. "Wait," she interjects, cutting into Lewis and Toto's discussion. They both turn to her, surprised. "If we're going to go along with this… PR plan, I want something out of it too."

Toto and Lewis look at her, a bit taken aback by her unexpected request. Toto quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what is it you want, exactly?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.

Y/n takes a deep breath, her mind racing as she formulates her request. "I want this to benefit me too," she says, her tone firm but tentative. "I don't just want to be a pawn in this charade. I want my own image to be protected, and… I want it to have a positive impact on my future, on my family's company."

Toto and Lewis exchange glances, both surprised but also understanding the logic in her request. Lewis turns to her with slight admiration, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's… very practical of you," he says, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

Y/n's response is matter-of-fact, and her expression is a mix of determination and practicality. "Business is business," she repeats, her tone resolute. "If we're going to play this game, we might as well use it to our advantage, right?"

Toto nods slightly, appreciating her mercenary approach. "You're not wrong," he concedes, a grudging respect in his voice. "If we can use this situation to our mutual benefit, then perhaps it won't be a total disaster."

Lewis looks at Y/n, a gleam of admiration in his eyes at her business-mindedness. "You've got guts," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips. "I can respect that."

Y/n chuckles a bit at his comment, the humor beginning to shine through despite the seriousness of their situation. "Well," she says with a small laugh, "if you want to get technical, that is one reason we got married, isn't it?"

Toto glares at Y/n, his gaze is stern and reprimanding. Y/n's eyes widen in response, and she immediately feels a pang of regret, realizing she has spoken out of turn. She mutters a quick "Sorry, too soon," her voice a whisper as she shrinks down in her seat.

Toto sighs, his expression softening slightly. "Let's remain professional, please," he reminds her, his tone a bit weary. "We need you to be present at the next Grand Prix, okay? Because by then we'll have the PR statement announced. Lewis can send you the details."

Y/n nods, a bit chastened but also understanding. "Okay," she apologizes again, her voice sincere. "I'll check my schedule if I'm free on... whatever day that is."

Toto nods in acknowledgment, his expression is still weary but slightly less stern. He turns his attention back to Lewis and continues the discussion, the mood in the room now more serious and focused.

With the focus of the conversation now shifted to Lewis and Toto, Y/n pulls out her phone, sensing that she isn't needed in the immediate discussion. She scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself from the ongoing conversation. Occasionally, she glances up, listening to bits and pieces of the talk, but mostly just biding her time.

Y/n scrolls through her Twitter feed, her eyes scanning over the various news and Tweets. Suddenly, something catches her eye, causing her to stand up from her seat and exclaim a surprised curse word.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Y/n exclaims, her voice laced with disbelief and shock. She stares down at her phone, the blood draining from her face as she processes whatever she has just seen.

Toto and Lewis' heads snap in her direction at the outburst. They look at her, startled and alarmed by her reaction. Toto's brow furrows in concern, and he asks, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Y/n holds out her phone to Toto, her face still etched with shock and disbelief. Toto takes the phone from her, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Lewis leans over to look as well, his expression turning serious as he reads whatever is on the screen.

Toto's jaw clenches as he looks at the image, his expression hard and guarded. He glances at Y/n, then back at the phone screen, seeming to be processing the implications of this photo.

Lewis shakes his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. "That's just perfect," he mutters sarcastically. "As if we didn't have enough to deal with already."

Toto continues scrolling through the tweet and reading comments from fans and media alike. He pauses, seeing several comments speculating that the woman in the photo is actually Y/n. His expression darkens with concern as he reads these comments.

He glances at Y/n, then at Lewis, and sighs deeply. "This is really bad," he says, his voice a low grumble. "If people start connecting the dots… we're going to have a PR nightmare on our hands."

Y/n is silently freaking out, her mind racing with thoughts and worries. She gnaws anxiously on her nails, a nervous habit she has when feeling overwhelmed.

Toto notes her distress but focuses on the practicalities of the situation for the moment, exchanging a few more words with Lewis.

Toto and Lewis quietly discuss the next steps, trying to come up with a damage control plan. Toto occasionally glances at Y/n, noticing her anxious behavior, but doesn't interrupt his conversation with Lewis for the moment.

Y/n suddenly pipes up, interrupting Toto and Lewis' conversation. "Wait," she interjects, her tone a bit frenzied. "What if we lied? What if… what if we said we've been married for almost a year? Like, we got married during the winter break?"

Toto's expression softens slightly as he contemplates Y/n's idea. "It's a possibility," he muses, his voice measured. "Getting married during the off-season would make sense, given the hectic schedule of the drivers. It would be more logical that Lewis would take time off for a wedding rather than a drunken elopement."

Lewis nods, seeing the logic in Y/n's suggestion. "It could work," he agrees, his tone less skeptical than before. "It would at least make the whole situation seem less impulsive and foolish, and more like… a planned commitment."

Y/n continues to gnaw anxiously on her nails, her eyes flitting between Toto and Lewis as she waits for them to make a decision. The weight of the situation, the impending lie they are about to concoct, hangs heavily on her mind.

Toto notices her distress but is still wrapped up in the discussion with Lewis, he decides to address it once they have a plan. "Let's work out the details," he says, his tone business-like. "We need to make sure our story is ironclad, and our timelines line up."

He turns to Y/n, his expression stern but not unsympathetic. "And I suggest you stop chewing on your nails," he remarks matter-of-factly. "We'll need to present a united, calm front, and that doesn't include nervous fidgeting."

Though Y/n stops biting her nails as Toto advises, her anxiety doesn't diminish. She transfers her nervous energy to her palms, starting to scratch and pick nervously at the skin, leaving slight crescent-shaped marks.

Toto notices her new anxious habit but doesn't address it directly at the moment. He and Lewis continue their discussion, fine-tuning the details of the lie they are going to spin. The atmosphere in the room remains tense, but there seems to be a rough plan coming together.

As the meeting draws to a close, Toto excuses himself to take a call from the head of PR. He motions for Y/n and Lewis to wait, and they remain silent in Toto's office as he steps out to take the call.

When Toto returns, he appears even more tense than before. He bids both Y/n and Lewis a rushed farewell, as he needs to deal with the situation with the head of PR. The two of them are left standing in the office, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the day's events.

Lewis glances at Y/n, her face slightly pale and tired from the stress of the situation. He can tell that she's still anxious and tense, and he reaches out to gently squeeze her hand, offering a small gesture of comfort. "Hey," he says in a soft voice, "it's going to be okay. We're… we're going to get through this."

Y/n looks up at him, her eyes weary and full of worry. She tries to force a small smile, appreciating his attempt at reassurance. "I hope so," she replies, her voice a bit shaky. "I just… I hope we can pull this off. The lie…"

Lewis nods in understanding. "I know," he says, his tone sympathetic. "It's a lot to take on. But we don't have many options at this point. If we don't control the narrative, someone else will, and…" he trails off, the implication clear.

Y/n nods, knowing that he's right. "I get it," she mutters, her voice laced with resignation. "I just… I didn't sign up for all this, you know? All this… lying, and spinning stories, and… pretending."

Y/n lets out a humorless chuckle, her voice resigned. "You're telling me," she says sarcastically. "I didn't even sign up for this marriage, not while I was sober at least... and now I have to lie about it, pretend it was pre-planned, and… play the part of the dutiful wife."

She shakes her head, the absurdity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. "It's just… surreal," she continues her tone a mix of disbelief and frustration. "A few days ago, I was a private person, living my life, and now I'm suddenly… a married woman, the center of a media shitstorm, and I'm expected to lie about it all like it's no big deal."

As they walk down the halls, Y/n is still somewhat zoned out, her mind preoccupied with the stresses and worries of the day. Lewis is right beside her, his hand occasionally on her lower back, providing silent moral support. They pass by other team members and staff, and more than a few curious glances and whispers follow them, aware of the situation unfolding but unwilling to speak openly.

They reach the parking lot, and Lewis turns to Y/n, his expression concerned. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asks gently, his tone sincere. "You look exhausted."

Y/n nods, her fatigue clearly visible in her eyes and demeanor. "Yeah," she replies, her voice a weary whisper. "That would be great, thanks. I'm… I'm feeling pretty wiped out."

Lewis nods in understanding and leads her towards his car. The trip to her home is mostly silent, both of them too emotionally drained to talk much. Lewis occasionally glances at her, checking if she is okay. Y/n just gazes out the window, her thoughts far away.

He follows the directions given by Y/n to her apartment. The car ride is quiet, neither of them speaking much due to the weight of the situation on their minds. Once they arrive at her apartment, Lewis parks the car but doesn't immediately get out. Instead, he turns to her, his expression a mixture of worry and concern.

Lewis watches as Y/n unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. Before she can open the door, he turns to her and asks, "You're going to be okay, right? You'll be okay alone? I can stay with you if you want."

Y/n offers a weary smile, touched by Lewis's concern. "I… I'll be fine," she assures him, her voice soft but strained. "You don't need to stay. I just… need some time to process all this. Alone."

Lewis accepts her decision to be alone, though his expression remains worried. "Okay," he says softly, "Take care of yourself, alright? And… call me if you need anything. Anytime, okay?"

She nods slightly, appreciating his offer. "Thanks, I will," she replies. "I'll… I'll be fine. I just need a bit of space to clear my head."

Y/n exits the car, her movements slow and weary. The weight of the situation seems to hang heavily on her shoulders as she stands outside her apartment, looking up at the building.

Lewis watches her from the driver's seat, a mixture of concern and sadness on his face. He waits a moment to make sure she gets inside safely before driving off.

July 8, Monday, 10:37 AM

As Y/n begins to unlock her apartment door, she hears the familiar sound of her cat meowing on the other side. The sound is both a comfort and a further reminder of her responsibilities, and she feels a pang of fondness mixed with exhaustion.

After unlocking the door, she pushes it open and is immediately met with the soft sound of her cat rubbing against her legs, meowing for attention. Y/n bends down and scoops up the cat in her arms, holding it close to her chest, seeking comfort in its presence.

She holds her cat “Extra Virgin Olive Oil” (“Evoo” for short) close, the familiar warmth and weight of her furry companion a soothing presence. The ridiculousness of the name, a result of yet another drunken decision, momentarily brings a bittersweet smile to her lips.

Y/n walks into the apartment, closing the door behind her and making her way to the living room. She sits down on the couch, setting her bag on the floor before setting Evoo down on her lap and gently stroking his white fur. The soothing motion and rhythmic purring of the cat help to calm her tumultuous thoughts.

As Y/n sits on the couch, gently stroking her cat, she begins to speak to him in a soft, quiet voice. Although it’s not unusual for people to talk to their pets, there’s an undertone of vulnerability in her words, unloading her worries to a receptive but silent companion.

“Hi, baby,” she begins, her voice laced with exhaustion. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” She continues to idly pet the cat in her lap, the gentle motion seeming to soothe her as much as her cat. “I… I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, you know? Things are… complicated, to say the least.”

She leans her head back against the couch, her fingers continuing to absently run through the white cat’s fur. “I know you’re just a cat, and you probably don’t understand what I’m saying. But it helps, talking to you like this. It helps to get it all out, even if you can’t talk back.”

As Y/n continues to talk, the words flow out of her in a rushed confession. “And… that’s not even the craziest, Evoo,” she murmurs, shaking her head slightly. “I got married. Can you believe that?”

Her cat, as if responding to her words, looks up at her with its large eyes, seemingly bewildered by the revelation. It tilts its head as if asking “What?!”

Y/n lets out a soft, humorless chuckle at her cat’s reaction, continuing to stroke its fur. “Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, right?” she continues, her voice still heavy with exhaustion but holding a hint of irony. “I… I got married, and I don’t even remember most of it. Isn’t that just wild?”

She pushes aside her exhaustion and moves from the couch, placing Evoo gently on the nearby rug. She then remembers to change her cat’s water bowl, her actions automatic and routine. As she fills the bowl from the kitchen sink, she glances back at her cat, still resting on the rug.

“Don’t worry, bud,” she calls out, her voice slightly less weary, “He’s… he’s a good guy. I think.”

After refilling the water bowl, Y/n returns to the living room, her mind still swirling with the day’s events. She glances at Evoo, who is now lapping up the fresh water. For a moment, she wishes her life was as simple as a cat’s, where the most pressing concern was the next meal, not an unexpected marriage and a web of lies.

Y/n rubs his head one last time before straightening up. “Alright, buddy,” she says, her tone softer now that she’s attending to her cat’s needs. “I’m going to take a bath. Be a good boy while I’m gone, alright?”

She sits in the bathtub, the water warm and comforting, surrounding her tired body in a soothing embrace. An iPad is placed on a wooden bath tray near the edge of the tub, playing a movie that she’s only partially paying attention to.

In her hand, she holds a glass of lemon water, taking small sips every now and then as she there, letting the hot water work its relaxing magic.

The scent of lavender from a bath bomb fills the room, adding to the atmosphere of calm and tranquility. However, despite the peaceful setting, Y/n’s mind remains restless, the events of the day still weighing heavily on her thoughts. Despite trying to focus on the movie, she finds her mind wandering back to the marriage, the lie, the future.

As the stream from the bath billows around her, Y/n takes another small sip from her lemon water, her mind still spinning. The bath was intended to relax her, to wash away the tension of the day, but her thoughts stubbornly refused to let her rest. She tries to force herself to watch the movie, to focus on something other than her worries, but the events of the day keep flooding back.

The heat of the bath, combined with the subtle fragrance of the lavender, should be lulling her into a tranquil state, but her mind is too chaotic, too filled with worries and regrets. She takes another sip of her lemon water, the tangy taste reminding her of the sourness she feels inside, the unease that hasn't let her go since this whole mess began.

Y/n is wrapped in a towel, her wet hair sticking to her shoulders as she steps out of her bedroom and into the living/dining space. She's surprised to see Lyka walking in with a bright smile, a stark contrast to her own weary state.

Y/n, still wrapping the towel around herself, glances up at Lyka through wet strands of hair. "You seem unusually cheerful," she remarks, her tone slightly teasing as she reaches the kitchen and sets her glass down in the sink. Evoo brushes against her leg, seeking attention, and she gives the cat a gentle pat before turning back to Lyka. "What's up?"

Lyka's eyes sparkle with excitement and a hint of pride. "The best night ever," she echoes, her smile widening. "You won't believe it, Y/n. I hooked up with the DJ."

Y/n raises her brows in surprise and recognition. "Oh, Lando?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone. "I saw you dancing with him at the booth last night."

Lyka blinks in surprise when Y/n says Lando's name, her excitement now mixed with a touch of curiosity. "Yeah!- Wait, how do you know his name?" she asks, her expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.

Y/n settles onto a bar stool, opening the wrapper to a small piece of chocolate. She takes a small bite of the chocolate and continues talking to Lyka as she munches on the sweet treat. "I became friends with one of Lando's friends last night," she explains, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Her playful smile fades as the memory of her marriage hits her like a ton of bricks. She chokes mid-sentence, the taste of chocolate turning bitter in her mouth. "I... um..." she stutters, her mind racing to find a way to explain.

"I... I have something to tell you," she manages to continue, her voice a bit strained. She sets the chocolate bar down, her appetite suddenly gone. "And... it's kind of a big deal. Like, a really big deal."

Lyka's expression changes as she senses the seriousness in Y/n's tone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she leaned in, her face replaced by a look of concern. "What is it?" she asks, her voice low and worried.

Y/n takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the reaction that's about to follow. "I..." she starts, her voice faltering as she struggles to find the right words. "I... I got married."

There's a moment of stunned silence as Lyka processes Y/n's confession. Her eyes widen even further, and her hand grips the countertop, her knuckles turning white. "You... you what?" she manages to stutter out, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

"And... it may or may not have been a friend of Lando's...." Lyka's eyes widen even further when Y/n clarifies that the person she married is a friend of Lando. "Wait..." she starts, her mind spinning with the implications. "You married one of Lando's friends? Who..."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, preparing herself for the fallout. "Lewis," she finally manages to say. "I... I married Lewis."

As Lyka tries to remember if Lando mentioned anything Lewis, a flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. "Wait..." she says, her soft soft as she recalls the conversation with Lando. "Lando mentioned something about a party of celebrate one of his friends' win. Was that Lewis?"

Y/n doesn't trust herself to speak, so she just nods in affirmation. She can see the pieces falling into place in Lyka's mind, her friend digesting the information with a mix of surprise and confusion.

Lyka lifts her hands in a gesture of disbelief, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and incredulity. "I swear, the universe has a weird sense of humor when it comes to you and alcohol," she says, shaking her head. "Seriously, the weirdest things happen to you when you're drunk. It's like you're attracting weirdness or something."

As Y/n gets up to change, she can't help but notice that Lyka is wearing a hoodie she doesn't recognize. She decides to bring it up later, as they have plenty to discuss when they regroup in the kitchen.

"Alright, let's change and meet here in five," Y/n suggests, her tone a bit lighter now. "We'll compare our crazy nights, and you can tell me about your new hoodie too," she adds with a smile.

Lyka flushes furiously as Y/n hints at the hoodie she's wearing, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Oh my god, shut up," she giggles, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's just a hoodie, okay?"

Y/n grins knowingly as she responds, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, it's Lando's hoodie," she teases, emphasizing the name for effect. "And you're blushing like crazy."

Lyka buries her face in her hands, still blushing profusely. "Ugh, I swear, you're the worst," she groans, half-heartedly swatting at Y/n "Why do you have to point it out like that?"

Y/n laughs, enjoying the sight of her flustered friend. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing," she says, her voice filled with amusement. She moves towards her room, still smiling at Lyka's reaction. "You get changed, and I'll do the same. Meet you in the kitchen in five."

Y/n sits next to Lyka, a soft smile on her face. As they settle into their seats by the counter, Lyka begins recounting her night with Lando. Her cheeks are still a little flushed, betraying her excitement.

"So, about last night..." she says, her voice slightly giddy, "I had the best night ever with Lando."

Y/n takes a chip from the bowl on the counter, chewing on it as she listens to her friend's story. "Yeah?" she prompts. encouraging Lyka to continue. "Tell me more. What made it the best night ever?"

Lyka emphasizes her point, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "His hands were skilled," she repeats, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Seriously, Y/n, you have no idea. He was so fucking good."

"His touches, his moves, everything just... wow," Lyka continues, the memory clearly relived in her mind. She takes a sip of her water, her gaze distant for a moment before she focuses on Y/n. "I swear, it was like he knew exactly what to do, and how to do it."

Lyka's excitement reaches a whole new level as she starting bouncing in her seat. "Oh my god," she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "When he was-" She suddenly breaks off, her words catching in her throat.

She cuts off her own sentence, biting her lip as if holding back a secret. There's a mixture of delight and surprise on her face. "He... he was just-" she stammers, struggling to put the experience into words. "It was incredible," she finally manages, her voice full of awe.

Y/n listens intently, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm. She can tell that whatever Lando did, it clearly surpassed Lyka's expectations. "Incredible, huh?" she teases, raising a brow. "Sounds like Lando's got some serious skills there."

Lyka takes a moment to fan herself, the memory of her night with Lando still fresh in her mind. "Yeah... yeah I was," she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I was shaking like a leaf by the time it was done."

She looks down at her hands as if reliving the sensation. "It was tense," she adds, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, seriously intense. I don't think I could have handled much more."

Lyka lets out a shaky breath, a mixture of pleasure and disbelief in her voice. "Yeah," she replies, her face still flushed. "He just... he just kept going, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore. It was... it was too much, but in the best way possible, you know?"

She takes another sip of her water, her body still feeling the after-effects of Lando's touches. "He knew exactly what he was doing," she adds, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I've never experienced anything like it before."

Y/n can't resist teasing a little more, a sly smile on her face. "Well," she says, raising a brow, "Maybe Lando was just making up for the disappointing performance your ex put on."

Lyka, still flushed and giggling, enthusiastically agrees with Y/n's assessment. "ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!" she exclaims, her voice loud and clear. "Lando was the complete opposite of my ex. He made up for that shitshow tenfold."

She takes a moment to catch her breath, her face still glowing. She can't help but gush about Lando's attributes, her voice filled with awed excitement. "I swear, he was HUGE," she says, her voice filled with excitement.

Y/n laughs, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "Shh, shh, keep it down," she shushes her friend, laughing as she glances toward the wall shared with their neighbors. "The whole building doesn't need to know about Lando's... size."

Lyka, still caught up in the memory of her night with Lando, continues to rave about his skills and his 'size' ''I don't even know how to describe it," she gushes, her voice filled with admiration. "There's just... no comparison. Lando's in a league of his own."

She's so caught up in her praise that she practically glows. "I never knew it could be like that," she admits, her flushed cheeks a clear indication of her satisfaction. "He knows how to handle everything."

Lyka's voice softens as she reflects on the night, her face now taking on a more tender expression. "He was so gentle and caring afterward," she says, a hint of fondness in her tone. "It was like he knew exactly what I needed."

Y/n, curious about the tender side of Lando, asks how exactly he was caring after their night together. Lyka's expression softens even more as she continues. "He was really sweet," she explains. "He held me close, and told me how amazing I was. Kept asking if I was okay, and if I needed anything. Just really took care of me, you know?"

"Oh, and he left me a shit ton of hickeys too," Lyka mentions, causing Y/n to involuntarily spit out her drink in surprise. Y/n's eyes widen as Lyka casually mentions that detail. She was taking a sip of her drink at the same moment, causing her to almost choke on the liquid, spurting it out in surprise. "Hickeys?" she exclaims, her voice slightly strained. "Lando gave you hickeys?"

Lyka grins widely, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She shifts the collar of her shirt to reveal several small, purplish marks on her collarbone and neck. "Yeah," she says, her voice a bit smug. "He marked me up, good."

Lyka lets out a cheeky giggle, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, her voice slightly lower. "He left some on my thighs too, but Lando said those were for his eyes only."

Y/n can't help but stare at her friend in disbelief. Her mouth is still slightly agape, her eyes wide as she processes the information. "For his eyes only, huh?" she manages to say, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

She shakes her head, a little bemused by Lando's possessiveness. "Sounds like Lando wants to keep you all to himself," she teases, grinning. "No sharing allowed."

Lyka grins, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, absolutely," she confirms, giggling. "We made a deal. He wants to be my friend with benefits," she says, using air quotes, "And I just have to look pretty and make him feel good." She adds with a coy smile, paraphrasing Lando's words.

Lyka brightens up even more, her voice eager and excited. "Oh, and I'm going to his next race too!" she exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat. "I'll be in the McLaren garage, of course. Lando said he wants me there."

Y/n nods, a smile on her face. "I'll be there too, slightly against my will," she confirms, "But I'll be in the Mercedes garage." She glances at her friend, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "This is gonna be fun, watching the race from opposite ends of the garage."

"So... what about your night?" Lyka asks curiously, looking at Y/n with amusement through her eyelashes.

Y/n takes a moment, her mind flashing back to the events of her night. "My night…" she muses, her voice a little dreamy. "Well, it was… eventful, to say the least."

She lets out a soft chuckle, the memory of the night still fresh in her mind. "So, I was on the dance floor, just dancing, and Lewis came up behind me," she recalls, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.

Y/n glances at Lyka before continuing, her voice taking on a wry tone. "Yeah, it was around the time you went to dance with Lando," she says, clearly amused by the coincidence. "Lewis just appeared out of nowhere, tapped me on the shoulder, and we started dancing."

She smiles, her cheeks slightly flushed as she describes the night. "We were talking, flirting a bit," she says, her voice holding a hint of excitement. "He bought me drinks at the bar, and we just… connected, I guess."

Y/n lets out a light laugh, her cheeks flushing a little at the memory. "Yeah, so… eventually… we may have found a secluded spot and, you know, things got a bit heated," she explains, a coy smile playing on her lips. "And I may or may not have told him I'd marry him as a joke."

She shakes her head, still amused by the audacity of her own words. "I don't even know where it came from," she says. "Just a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? A little drunken banter."

Y/n continues, her voice filled with amusement. "Well, Lewis just chuckled when I said it," she recounts. "I mean, he knew I was just joking, right? But then he just… playfully agreed, you know? Like, he said something like, 'Sure, why not? Let's get hitched.' It was all just goofing around, really."

Y/n sees the look on Lyka's face and knows her friend is judging her, but it's in a friendly way. She laughs, shaking her head. "Hey, don't give me that look," she says, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "It was just a joke, you know that, right?"

Lyka gives Y/n a sly smile, her voice filled with mock disbelief. "A joke that turned into an actual marriage," she repeats, her tone dripping with cheeky sarcasm. "Wow, I hope Lewis doesn't mind waking up to your morning breath every day."

Y/n playfully smacks Lyka's arm, laughing. "Hey, my morning breath isn't that bad," she protests, her voice light with feigned offense.

She then swats at Lyka again, her smile broadening. "And for the record, I would make an amazing wife," she boasts, her voice half-joking, half-serious.

Y/n straightens her shoulders, posing theatrically. "I'd be, like, the perfect trophy wife. I'd look good standing next to Lewis during his press conferences and podium interviews."

Lyka laughs out loud at Y/n's confident declaration. "Oh my god," she snickers, her voice filled with mirth. "You're actually picturing yourself as a trophy wife? Standing there, looking pretty while Lewis talks about racing strategy and tire compounds?"

Y/n grins, raising a brow at Lyka. "And what about you?" she asks a hint of challenge in her voice. "Can you see yourself doing the same for Lando? Standing there, looking gorgeous, while he talks about car setup and track conditions?"

Lyka nods with conviction, a sparkle in her eyes. "Absolutely, yes," she affirms. "I can totally picture myself looking all cute and pretty, with a whole wardrobe of amazing outfits courtesy of Lando's earnings. It's all about the perks, you know?"

She grins mischievously. "Besides, watching Lando on the track, all focused and intense, and then coming home to spoil me rotten? Sounds pretty damn good to me."

Y/n nods, her lips curving into a smile. "You know what, you have a point there," she admits, her voice laced with a touch of envy. "Getting to watch Lewis race, all focused and competitive, and then having him come home and… well, show me just how much he appreciates me… yeah, I could get used to that."

She quirks an eyebrow, glancing at the calendar. "Alright, when's the next race again?" she asks, her voice slightly impatient. "I need to check if I'm free that day, cause Toto- his team principal, I believe? said that I have to be there. Some PR bullshit."

Y/n pulls out her phone, quickly searching for the race schedule. "Lemme see," she murmurs, scrolling through her screen. "There we go. The next race is two weeks from now... Let's see… yep, I'm free that day."

She puts her phone away, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "All clear," she affirms. "I'll be there, cheering on Lewis every lap of the way."

Lyka smirks, her voice dripping with playfully sarcastic praise. "Oh, you're such a good wife," she teases. "Making sure you're always available to support your husband's racing career. That's true devotion right there."

Y/n laughs, returning the teasing with a sly grin. "And what about you?" she asks, raising a brow. "Ready to be Lando's arm candy, showing off all those designer outfits he'll buy you?"

Lyka nods vigorously, her face already picturing the fancy outfits she'd wear. "Oh, absolutely," she declares, her voice oozing with enthusiasm. "I'm so ready to be Lando's arm candy, strutting around in all the gorgeous designer outfits he'll spoil me with."

Lyka takes a moment to swallow her chip and then adds, "And hey, speaking of Lando's stuff, I actually need to return that hoodie he lent me. Gotta make sure he gets it back."

She grins mischievously. "Although, maybe I'll 'accidentally' keep it a day or two longer just to remind him of me."

Y/n tsks, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Oh, wow," she chuckles, her tone laced with feigned surprise. "That's such harlot behavior, keeping a guy's hoodie just to remind him of yourself."

Lyka looks at Y/n in exaggerated shock, her mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Harlot? Really?" she exclaims, her voice filled with laughter. "Out of all the words you could've chosen, you went with harlot! That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Y/n shrugs, unable to keep a straight face. "What? It fits!" she replies, her voice laced with mirth. "You're deliberately keeping his hoodie longer just to keep his attention on you. If that isn’t harlot behavior, then I don't know what is."

Lyka rolls her eyes dramatically, a playful grin on her face. "Oh, please," she exclaims, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "It's not harlot behavior, it's strategic flirting. There's a difference."

Y/n chuckles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay," she concedes, her voice still tinged with laughter. "You can call it whatever you want. Strategic flirting, friendly teasing, whatever floats your boat."

July 8, Monday, 4:51 PM

Y/n is in the middle of preparing dinner, peeling potatoes and chopping veggies, when her phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. She glances down at it curiously, setting down her knife for a moment.

After a few moments, Y/n finishes replying to Lewis' message, a small smile on her face. She sets down her phone, the conversation with Lewis momentarily distracting her from her cooking preparations.

Y/n continues chopping vegetables, her hands moving deftly as she's suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka's phone ringing. She stops for a moment, looking up as Lyka grabs her phone.

Lyka's face lights up with surprise as she answers the phone, hearing Lando's voice on the line. "Oh! Hey, Lando," she replies, her voice already cheerful.

Y/n can't help but smile at Lyka's reaction, hearing the change in her tone. She continues chopping vegetables as she listens to Lyka's side of the conversation.

Lyka's voice is filled with excitement as she responds to Lando's question. "Yes, I'll get the tickets for the flight myself," she confirms, her voice slightly giddy. "I'll be there by Friday, no problem."

Her face flushes with a rosy hue as Lando brings up the subject of his hoodie. She lets out a soft, nervous chuckle and replies, a hint of playful charm in her voice, "Ah, about the hoodie… Well, I was actually thinking I might hang onto it a little longer."

Y/n, unable to contain her amusement, lets out a soft giggle, drawing Lyka's attention. She glances at her friend, a sly smile on her face.

Lyka continues the conversation with Lando, her voice taking on a flirtatious tone as she playfully teases him. "You know, if you miss the hoodie that much, you'll just have to come and get it from me yourself…"

Y/n stops mid-preparation, her eyes widening as she eavesdrops on Lyka's conversation. She gapes at her friend for a brief moment, surprised by the boldness of her response.

She can't help but chuckle to herself, thinking, "Lyka's really turning on the charm. Lando's going to be all over her when he gets that hoodie back…"

Lyka continues the conversation, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. "It seems like you miss this hoodie more than you miss me, if you're that desperate to get your hoodie back, maybe we should meet up tomorrow…"

Lyka smiles widely as Lando agrees to meet up the next day. "Great, I'll send you my address in a moment," she replies, her voice a mix of anticipation. "I need to go now, though. But I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Y/n watches the exchange with a mixture of amusement and surprise. She can't help but shake her head in disbelief as Lyka ends the call, a cheeky smile on her face.

"Wow," Y/n says, her voice filled with admiration. "You really have Lando wrapped around your finger, don't you?"

Lyka grins, her cheeks still flushed with a hint of a blush. "What can I say? I have my ways of persuasion," she replies, a coy smirk on her face.

Y/n laughs at Lyka's response, amused by her friend's confidence. She continues preparing dinner, adding the ingredients to the pot and stirring it together in the pot, her mind temporarily preoccupied as she focuses on her cooking task. The kitchen emits a warm, savory aroma, the spices blending together to create a mouthwatering scent.

Y/n is suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka spitting out her tea, accompanied by an annoyed meow from Evoo. She looks up, slightly startled, setting down her spoon to look over at her friend.

"Whoa, what happened?" Y/n asks, looking at Lyka, who's wiping her mouth with a napkin. Her eyes move to the cat, who's also looking slightly grumpy from the unexpected spray.

Lyka, still catching her breath, quickly points at Y/n's phone, which is on the kitchen counter. "Check your Instagram," she says urgently, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Y/n grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, a look of curiosity on her face. She swipes through her notifications and opens Instagram, as per Lyka's instruction.

Y/n scans through her Instagram timeline and her heart skips a beat as she catches the first article. The statement from Mercedes about her marriage to Lewis is plastered right on her screen. She reads through it, disbelief and surprise etched across her face.

mercedesf1

liked by lewishamilton, george_russell, lyka.val and 563,447 others mercedesamgf1 Following the recent victory at Silverstone, unauthorized images of one of our drivers and his private life have been leaked. We respect our driver’s privacy and are addressing the situation with the seriousness it deserves. Here’s Toto’s reaction to the matter.

user44 HE'S WHAT? FOR HOW LONG?

lewishamiltonfan446427 who the fuck is y/n.... ↳ george.jpg i just searched her up, she used to be a model! she's still active on social media so it isn't that hard to find her account

mercluvr I'M SORRY???

nepobbylver ms rabbit has fainted.

y/nfan1 I'M GOING INSANE??????????????????????????

lewis.hamiltons.gf does this mean i have to change my username...?

y/nfan2 WHEN DID THEY MEET WHAT

y/nfan3 WHEN WHERE WHAT HOW WHEN HUH

rockstarlewis this is some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit dude

wtfmerc so it WAS y/n

A mix of emotions floods through her as she continues reading. She feels a wave of shock, followed by a pang of confusion. Y/n grips her phone tighter, her eyes glued to the words on the screen.

Y/n looks up from her phone, her voice quivering with surprise and a hint of concern. "I didn't know they were releasing this statement today," she replies, her words tinged with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

Her voice becomes more frantic, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "It was just an idea I pitched! The whole 'married for 6 months' thing- it wasn't supposed to be taken seriously, not this soon at least!"

She paces around the kitchen, her heart pounding with worry and uncertainty. "I never thought they'd actually make a statement about it without speaking to me first," she mutters, her voice betraying her growing anxiety.

As Y/n continues to pace anxiously, biting on her nails, Lyka takes action. She stands up from the counter and gently grasps Y/n's shoulders, trying to anchor her in the moment.

"Hey, hey," Lyka says in a soothing tone. "Take a deep breath, okay? Panicking isn't going to help the situation."

Y/n nods, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She takes a few deep breaths, letting the air fill her lungs and gradually slowing down her frenzied heartbeat.

Y/n is snapped out of her anxious thoughts as her phone rings loudly in her hand, jolting her back to reality. She glances down at the screen, wondering who could be calling her at this moment.

Her eyes widen as she sees her father's name on the caller ID. She stares at the screen for a moment, her mind swirling with thoughts. Taking another deep breath, she swipes to answer the call.

"Hello?" she says, her voice slightly shaky as she brings the phone to her ear.

She listens intently as her father's voice comes through the other end of the line, waiting anxiously for whatever he has to say. Y/n's father's voice is stern but concerned. "Y/n," he begins, "Have you seen the statement released by Mercedes?"

Y/n holds the phone a little tightly, her heart rate increasing again. "Dad," she begins, "Yes, I just saw it on Instagram. But listen, it's not what it seems-"

Her father's voice cuts her off, filled with disbelief and disappointment. "Not what it seems? It says you've been married to Lewis for 6 months. Explain that."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her mind racing to come up with a viable explanation. Feeling cornered, she decides to go along with the lie, knowing that the truth will lead to even more disappointment and shame from her father.

"Okay, okay," she says, her voice quivering slightly. "Yes, it's true we got married. But Dad, please understand, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. We wanted to keep it quiet, that's why we didn't tell anyone right away…"

Y/n listens to her father's scolding, her heart sinking further with each question. "I know, I know," she responds, her voice filled with guilt and remorse. "I should have told you sooner. But Dad, you have to understand, Lewis and I wanted to keep things private at first. The public attention can be overwhelming, and we wanted to enjoy our newlywed bliss in peace…"

Y/n feels a lump form in her throat as she hears the disappointment in her father's voice. This is a first for her—she's never had to lie to her father before, and the guilt starts to weigh heavily on her heart. Fresh tears well up in her eyes, but she tries to maintain her composure on the phone.

Lyka sees the tears in Y/n's eyes and immediately takes notice, her face filled with concern. She walks over to her friend and starts rubbing her back soothingly, a silent show of support and solidarity.

Y/n's father continues to press, his tone slightly more subdued now, "And when can we meet Lewis? Your mother deserves to meet him as soon as possible. We can't just be finding out about your husband on social media, for goodness sake!"

Y/n swallows hard, the weight of the lie becoming more palpable. She racks her brain for an answer, trying to come up with a believable timeframe. "Uh, well, we're actually not together right now... he's still... with his family...," she says, her voice still shaky. "Maybe… Maybe this week? Or when their summer break begins?"

Her father remains silent for a moment, mulling over the proposed timeline. "Very well," he finally responds, his voice still edged with disappointment. "We'll plan something for next week then. I expect a proper introduction and explanation. No more secrets, understood?"

Y/n nods, even though her father can't see her. "Yes, Dad, understood. No more secrets," she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and resignation.

After the call ends, Y/n closes her phone, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The weight of the lie and the disappointment from her father hang heavily on her shoulders. She feels like a guilty teenager all over again.

Lyka sees the distress etched on Y/n's face and quickly strides over to her, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting hug. "It's going to be okay," she whispers softly, trying to soothe her friend's troubled heart.

Y/n takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and trying to rein in her emotions. She then looks over at Lyka, a newfound determination etched on her face. "I need to let Lewis know about the situation with my father," she says, her voice steadying slightly.

She swiftly opens her phone and navigates to Lewis' contact. She knows she needs to inform him about the recent turn of events. Her fingers grip the phone tighter as she starts typing a message to him.

Y/n closes her phone and sighs, her body still feeling the emotional toll from the conversation with her father. Seeing that Lyka has taken over the cooking, Y/n moves to a nearby chair and plops down, still mulling over the recent developments.

While sitting on the chair, she takes a moment to mentally process everything that has happened. Her mind is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions - the lie, the need to maintain the facade, the guilt of deceiving her father, and the impending meeting with Lewis and her parents.

July 14th, 5:34 PM

The two sit in the car, the engine idling in the driveway of Y/n's childhood home. The atmosphere in the car is tense, and both of them are dreading the upcoming meeting with Y/n's parents.

She takes a deep breath, stealing a glance at Lewis before speaking up. "Okay, here's the plan," she begins, her voice a mixture of conviction and anxiety.

Y/n goes over the 'story' again, recapping the timeline of their 'relationship.' "We met during my vacation- your Christmas break of 2022, and became friends for about two months before you started courting me for three more months," she reminds Lewis. "We started dating after that, dated for five months, got engaged for around two months, and then got married in mid-January. Got it?"

Lewis nods, taking in the timeline and details of their fictional relationship. He's clearly trying to commit everything to memory, fully aware of the importance of maintaining a consistent story in front of Y/n's parents.

Y/n takes another deep breath, her hand fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Just remember, the key is to stay consistent and make it believable," she adds, her voice a tad shakier than before.

Lewis reaches out and takes Y/n's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We can do this," he says, his voice filled with determination and reassurance. "We just have to stick to the story and not let our nerves get the better of us."

Y/n nods, reassured by Lewis' words and the gentle squeeze of his hand. "You're right," she says, her voice steadier now. "Stick to the story, stay cool, and we'll get through this."

Lewis turns off the ignition, and the engine falls silent. Both of them unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car. Standing in the driveway, they take a moment to glance at each other, preparing themselves for the upcoming interaction.

Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she and Lewis approach the front door. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home bring back a mixture of emotions—nostalgia, nervousness, and the weight of the lie they're about to perpetuate.

She reaches out and rings the doorbell, the sound echoing through the peaceful neighborhood. They wait for a few moments, the anticipation growing with each passing second.

The maid opens the door and greets Y/n and Lewis warmly. "Hello, welcome," she says with a friendly smile. "Your father is still in his study doing some paperwork and your mother is helping the chefs with the dishes. They should be finished soon."

Y/n thanks the maid and glances at Lewis, a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She leads him into the house, the familiar scent of her childhood home filling her nostrils.

She takes Lewis' hand and leads him into the living room. The spacious room is tastefully decorated with a mix of antique and modern furniture, a reflection of her family's taste and style. She guides him to a cozy sofa and motions for him to take a seat.

As they settle onto the sofa, the maid follows behind them and asks, "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water, perhaps?"

Y/n turns to the maid and responds, her voice a bit tense. "I'll have cold water, please. Thank you."

She then turns to Lewis, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy despite her inner turmoil. "Would you like anything, Lewis? Water, coffee, tea…?"

Lewis looks at Y/n and then at the maid and replies, "I'll have tea, please. Thank you."

As the maid exits the living room Lewis sidles closer to Y/n on the sofa, draping an arm around her in a comforting gesture. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, his voice low and barely audible to anyone else.

In a quiet voice, Lewis whispers to Y/n, "Are there any cameras in the living room?" He asks the question, his gaze subtly glancing around for any visible signs of surveillance equipment.

Y/n is slightly taken aback by Lewis' arm around her, but she collects herself quickly. In a hushed tone, she whispers back, "Yes, there are cameras. They're hidden in various spots around the room, my father has access to the cameras from his study."

Lewis places a soft kiss on Y/n's temple and then pulls her closer, his voice a low murmur. "I know, I probably should have asked for your permission before doing that, but I thought it might help our act. For all we know, your father could be watching us on those cameras at this very moment."

Y/n can feel her heart rate increase a bit at Lewis' proximity and his reasoning behind the kiss. She glances at the hidden cameras, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. She nods subtly, understanding the necessity of keeping up the act.

The two of them maintain their close position on the couch, trying to appear as a married couple who are comfortable in each other's company. Y/n glances around discreetly, wondering how her father is handling the surveillance footage.

Just as they are about to continue their conversation, the maid re-enters the living room, carrying a tray with their drinks. She sets the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, placing a glass of cold water next to Y/n and a steaming cup of tea next to Lewis.

The maid arranges the drinks on the coffee table, the sound of the glass clinking against the tray cutting through the silence in the room. She then smiles politely at them before discretely exiting the living room again, leaving Y/n and Lewis alone with their beverages.

Y/n watches the maid exit, her heart rate slightly elevated. She picks up her glass and takes a small sip of water, her mind racing with a million thoughts. The sound of Lewis' tea cup being placed back on the coffee table breaks the silence, drawing her attention back to him.

As Y/n starts to bite her nail, Lewis reaches out and gently moves her hand away from her mouth, his gaze meeting hers with reassurance. "Hey," he whispers "It's going to be okay. I'm here with you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together, alright?"

The simple act of Lewis gently stopping her from biting her nail serves as a small anchor, bringing Y/n back from the edge of her nervousness. She glances at him, his steady presence offering a small sense of comfort. She nods subtly, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and anxiety.

Y/n's breathing remains somewhat labored, the anxiety still coursing through her. Lewis takes her hand in his and begins rubbing his thumb against hers, a soothing motion that seems to ease her nerves, if only a little.

As she gazes at their intertwined hands, her eyes move up to the rings and tattoos adorning Lewis' fingers. The sight of them adds another layer to their carefully crafted pretense, the evidence of her supposed marriage right there on display for anyone who looks closely enough.

Their moment is interrupted as Y/n's mother walks into the living room. Her mother's presence brings Y/n back to reality, and the nerves come rushing back. She straightens up immediately, letting go of Lewis' hand to brush off any dust on her shirt and pants.

Y/n's mother enters the living room, her eyes lighting up as she sees her daughter and Lewis sitting together on the sofa. A warm smile graces her lips as she approaches them. "Hello, you two," she greets them, her voice filled with genuine affection.

As Y/m/n approaches, Y/n rises from the sofa, her movement slightly jerky due to her nerves. She tries to force a smile, hoping to appear normal, but the tension in her body is palpable.

Lewis follows Y/n as she nods, his hand gently moving to rest on her back, a small comfort in the face of the inevitable confrontation with her father.

He extends his hand towards Y/n's mother, his demeanor is polite and friendly. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you in person," he says with a warm smile. Y/n watches the interaction, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

The introduction occurs, Lewis offering his hand in greeting and Y/n's mother shaking it warmly. Y/n stands nearby, the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears drowning out almost everything else.

As Lewis shakes her mother's hand and exchanges greetings, Y/n's heart pounds louder in her ears. Her eyes flicker between the two, the casual interaction between her mother and Lewis standing in stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning within her.

Y/n watches as Lewis engages in pleasantries with her mother, and the polite exchange is a far cry from the anxiety that grips Y/n's insides. The sound of their voices and the sight of their interaction blur into the background as Y/n struggles to keep herself together.

Y/m/n gestures towards the dining room, saying, "Follow me to the dining room, please. Your father will join us in about five minutes." With a nod, Y/n and Lewis follow silently behind her, the nerves tightening in Y/n's stomach.

Lewis takes Y/n's hand again, his touch providing a source of comfort in the midst of the mounting tension. With a subtle gesture, he begins rubbing his thumb against hers, offering a silent reassurance.

The gentle, soothing motion of Lewis rubbing her thumb helps to ground Y/n, and the simple action is a small balm against the anxiety that threatens to consume her. She glances at him, silently expressing her gratitude through her eyes.

They enter the dining room, and Lewis takes a seat next to Y/n, his presence a silent comfort. Y/n sits down across from her mother, leaving her father's chair vacant. The sight of the empty chair sends a jolt of anxiety through Y/n, her palms beginning to sweat.

Y/n sits across from her mother, her eyes darting to the empty chair that her father is bound to occupy shortly. The sight of the vacant seat is a ghost of the man who is about to confront the facade they've created. Y/n's palms begin to sweat, and the nervous energy builds rapidly within her.

The silence in the dining room is nearly deafening. Y/n's mother makes small talk, but Y/n's mind is elsewhere, consumed by the impending arrival of her father. She glances again at the empty chair, the seconds ticking by like hours as they wait for him to join them.

The wait seems endless, Y/n's mother's attempts at small talk falling on deaf ears as Y/n's mind races with thoughts. Every sound seems magnified, and every breath echoes. The empty chair looms over the table like a storm cloud, its absence speaking louder than any words could.

It seems almost too well-timed. Just as the silence is about to become unbearably awkward, the butlers enter the room, gracefully serving the meals that have been prepared. The aroma of the food fills the air, but Y/n's stomach is in knots, the thought of eating almost impossible.

As they express gratitude to the butlers, Y/n's father proceeds to place food on his plate, his hands moving deftly. Still in the midst of his task, he begins to ask questions, his voice laced with authority and curiosity.

Y/n's father continues to plate his food as he asks questions, his words almost nonchalant, but his tone hinting at hidden scrutiny. "So, Lewis, how did you and Y/n meet?"

Lewis responds calmly to Y/n's father's question, his tone matter-of-fact. "We met back in 2022, during Y/n's Christmas vacation," he says. "It was a coincidence, really. We just sorta bumped into each other and started talking."

Her father nods, seemingly taking in the information, still focused on loading food onto his plate. His next question comes with a hint of intensity, "And when did you decide to get married?"

Y/n's father's question about their marriage takes her slightly off-guard. As her mind races, she accidentally drops her spoon, the metallic clatter bouncing off the walls of the quiet dining room. Her heart sinks, the unexpected question leaving her feeling even more exposed.

Y/n apologizes for the dropped spoon, her voice a bit shaky. Lewis takes over, answering her father's question calmly. "We decided to get married after being engaged for two months," he explains. "We actually got married right before the off-season started. It was quite a whirlwind, to be honest."

Y/n's mother interjects, curious about the term 'off-season.' "What do you mean by off-season?" she asks, her tone casually curious.

Lewis responds to Y/n's mother's question, his tone casually informative. "The off-season is sort of like Christmas break," he says. "It's the time of year when school is out, and everything kind of slows down for a while."

Y/n's mother nods, absorbing the explanation, and then proceeds to take a bite of her food. She seems reasonably content with the answer, her focus shifting back to her meal.

Y/n's father, seemingly unsatisfied with the previous answers, resumes asking his questions. His gaze remains fixed on a spoonful of soup, but his voice drips with a sense of authoritative interrogation.

He continues to question Lewis, his eyes focused on his bowl of soup as his voice pierces the air. "So, you're an athlete, correct?" he asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.

Lewis nods in confirmation, his demeanor still poised. "Yes, I am," he answers, his response firm.

Y/n's father persists with his questions, delving into practicalities. "How are you going to provide for Y/n when you're constantly traveling and training?" he probes, his tone skeptical.

Y/n's mother chimes in, gently nudging her husband and scolding him playfully. "Darling, you're acting as if Lewis is going to be your personal assistant," she admonishes, adding a little humor to the conversation.

Lewis chuckles lightly, finding a bit of humor in the situation. Y/n, on the other hand, lets out a somewhat awkward laugh, the tension still palpable beneath the facade of casual banter.

He responds to her father's question, his tone confident. "I have a well-established career, sir," he says. "I'm well-paid, and I can certainly provide for Y/n and any future family we might have."

As Lewis mentions potentially having a family, Y/n is caught off-guard and inadvertently causes herself to cough, the water going down the wrong pipe. She quickly composes herself while both their parents look at her in concern.

While Y/n recovers from her coughing fit, Lewis gently pats her back, a look of concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/n responds nervously, her voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, I'm fine," she reassures, trying to brush off the incident, her eyes darting between Lewis, her parents, and the water in her glass.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone light yet curious. "So, have you two thought about how big of a family you'd like to have?" she inquires, her eyes flitting between Lewis and Y/n.

Lewis expresses his thoughts on starting a family, his voice filled with warmth and optimism. "I'd really like a big family," he admits, "maybe 2-3 kids or more, and a few pets too. But ultimately, it'll be Y/n's call since she'll be the one carrying and giving birth to the children." He smiles affectionately at her, adding, "It's her decision, and I'll support whatever she chooses."

Y/n's gaze softens, her heart warmed by Lewis's words. Despite the awkward family setting, the way he looks at her, coupled with his last statement, touches her deeply. It's a small but significant gesture, emphasizing his support and understanding, something she didn't fully anticipate.

Y/n's father nods in approval, clearly satisfied with Lewis's response. "Good man," he remarks, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind Lewis's words. "Always considerate of your wife's feelings, as you should be."

As Y/n's father praises Lewis, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. The approval from her father seems to ease some of the tension, and she shoots Lewis a grateful glance, silently expressing her relief.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone casual but slightly concerned. "Have you two thought about moving in together soon?" she asks. "I recall Y/n mentioning she's still staying with Lyka."

Y/n responds, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety, explaining the reasons behind their decision. "We haven't moved in together yet," she begins, "due to Lewis's job. With him traveling all over the world for most of the year, it would be quite lonely for me. I have some of my stuff at his place, but we agreed that I'll stay with him when he's home and stay at my apartment with Lyka when he's away."

The explanation seems to make sense to both Y/n's parents and her father nods in understanding. He seems to comprehend the challenges that come with Lewis's job, and the reasoning behind their living arrangement makes sense in their circumstances.

The dinner gradually comes to an end, and Y/n and Lewis bid farewell to her parents. There's a sense of relief in the air, mixed with a hint of lingering tension. As they part ways, Y/n's mother gives them both a warm smile, while her father offers a firm nod.

"Thanks," she says, smiling at his gesture, appreciating the small act of chivalry. She pulls out her phone from her bag before taking a seat in the car, the soft leather of the seats molding to her body.

As Lewis closes the car door, Y/n notices Lyka's name popping up on her phone's screen. She taps on the answer button, the phone pressed to her ear. "Hello?" she says, her voice slightly weary.

Lyka's voice comes through the line, sounding a mix of anxious and excited. "H-hi," she greets, her tone bordering on the guilty, like a child trying to conceal their mischief.

Y/n listens to Lyka's nervous greeting and responds, curiosity in her voice. "What's up?" she asks, setting the phone on speaker and placing it on the dash. Just as she does so, Lewis gets into the car, and they both focus on the now-speaker conversation.

Lyka's voice, sounding a bit unsure, asks, "Are you heading home now?" The question lingers in the air, suggesting that there may be something on Lyka's mind.

Y/n shoots Lewis a glance, their eyes meeting briefly as he maneuvers the car out of the gates. She's silent for a moment, contemplating Lyka's request and the implications of staying over at Lewis's place tonight.

Y/n turns her attention to Lewis, asking the question aloud, even though he had already overheard the conversation. She takes the phone off the dashboard, holding it in her hand as she speaks, her voice quieter than before. "Lyka's asking if I can stay over at your place tonight because Lando is a bit too drunk to go home."

Lewis responds, keeping his focus on the road, his voice calm and unwavering. "Sure," he says, seeming amenable to the idea. "You can stay over at my place tonight."

She relays the response to Lyka, conveying the okay from Lewis. "Okay," she says, her voice a bit lighter now. "I can stay at Lewis's place tonight."

Lyka's voice comes through the phone, brimming with gratitude and a hint of apology. "Thank you so much," she expresses, her tone sincere. "I'm really sorry for the sudden request. We just, uh…" Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Y/n chuckles, still on the phone with Lyka, and teases her gently. "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you take care of your 'boyfriend,'" she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "I'll be with Lewis."

Lyka's embarrassed screech comes through the phone, her voice full of flustered denial. "DUDE, SHUT UP!" she practically yells, her annoyance tinged with a hint of humor. "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!"

Y/n responds, a playful tone in her voice. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Lyka," she teases. "You can tell that to the flowers he's been sending you every day." Her tone takes on a mock serious note. "Anyways, I've gotta go now."

Lyka's frustrated scream comes through the line, her voice muffled as she probably covers her face with her hands. Y/n laughs, having heard this reaction countless times over the years, knowing it's a clear sign of Lyka's embarrassment. "Bye," Lyka manages to say, her voice still tinged with flusteredness before ending the call.

Y/n looks at her phone, opening the text messages app to find the flurry of texts Lyka sent just moments ago before the call. Her eyes scan over the screen, curious to see what kind of messages her flustered best friend sent, no doubt venting about what was happening.

Lewis breaks the brief silence that had settled in the car, starting with a casual, "So…" His tone is conversational, suggesting he has something to talk about. He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice is filled with curiosity and a hint of anticipation.

Y/n sighs, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and uncertainty. She closes her phone screen, resting it on her lap before responding. "Honestly, I'm not even sure," she admits, her tone reflecting a hint of frustration at her friends' complex relationship.

Y/n tries to explain the complicated nature of Lyka and Lando's relationship, her voice trying to convey the complexity of it all. "They're more than friends, but less than lovers," she clarifies, her tone thoughtful. "It's a bit confusing, really. They're stuck somewhere in between."

Lewis chuckles, reflecting on the implications of the "stuck in between" situation. He offers a playful observation. "Well, that could go one of two ways, right?" he muses. "Either it's really good, or really bad."

Y/n smirks, agreeing with Lewis's assessment. "Yeah, you're right," she concedes, her voice hinting at the complexities of Lyka and Lando's dynamics. "It's either going to work out amazingly or explode in their faces."

The car falls back into a moment of silence, the low hum of the engine filling the space. Lewis keeps driving, his focus on the road, his mind likely contemplating the complexities of relationships and the uncertainty of the future.

Y/n breaks the silence again, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. "Uh…" she begins, her tone a bit uncertain, but there's a question lingering behind it.

Y/n's voice softens with gratitude as she addresses Lewis, her tone sincere. "Thanks," she says, her appreciation evident. "For, you know, not making a big deal about me staying over."

Y/n's voice takes on a more grateful tone, her appreciation clear. "And thank you for saving my ass at the dinner," she says, a hint of relief in her voice. "I really appreciate you having my back."

Lewis responds with a warm smile, his tone easy and hospitable. "It's no problem, sweetheart," he says. "You're always welcome at my place, even when I'm not around. I'll give you a key soon so you can come and go as you please."

Y/n turns her head swiftly, her gaze now locked on him. She repeats his term of endearment, "Sweetheart?" Her voice is tinged with a hint of surprise, her head slightly tilted to the side as she processes the familiarity of the word coming from his lips.

Lewis's eyes widen momentarily upon hearing her question, clearly surprised by the inquiry. He quickly recovers and responds, his tone questioning yet gentle, "Oh, is it okay if I call you that?" His voice carries a note of concern, clearly wanting to ensure he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

She lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing away. "Yeah, it's fine," she assures him, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's actually better that way. I won't be caught off guard when you call me that in public. It'll make our act more believable for the press."

Lewis nods, the concern in his eyes replaced by a hint of relief and a touch of playfulness. "That's true," he agrees, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It'll make it more convincing when we're around people. Plus, it's kind of nice…" His voice trails off, a slight implication behind his words.

A smile dances on Y/n’s lips, and she decides to tease him a bit. “Oh really? I feel like you have a big crush on me Sir Lewis,” she asks, feigning surprise, her tone lighthearted. Her eyes glimmer with playfulness, expecting him to respond with a playful banter.

His voice takes on a playfully challenging tone as he responds to Y/n’s teasing question. “And what if I do?” he says, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning back to the road. “What would you do about it?” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone but also a flicker of genuine curiosity, as if he’s eager to see how she would react if her teasing was based on truth.

Y/n responds with confidence, her eyes locked into his. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she says, her tone dripping with a hint of mystery. Her voice drops lower, filled with playful tease, as if she’s already planning something.

Lewis raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued by Y/n’s response. He can’t help but wonder what kind of ideas she has in mind. “Oh yeah? And what ideas do you have in that pretty mind of yours, sweetheart?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Her smile widens, her eyes glimmering mischievously. She remains coy, not revealing too much. “Oh, I can’t give away all my secrets,” she teases, her voice playful. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”

Lewis chuckles, enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he responds, his tone playful. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see what you have up your sleeve, sweetheart."

Y/n smirks at the term of endearment, the name rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. "Oh, you'll see," she teases back, her voice filled with confidence. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

Lewis brings the car into the parking lot of the condominium building, the wheels smoothly coming to a stop. He turns off the engine, the sound of the vehicle falling silent as he shifts his gaze over to Y/n sitting next to him.

"We're here," he announces, his tone casual. He unbuckles his seatbelt and glances over at Y/n. "Ready to head inside?"

Y/n nods, the teasing banter settling into a comfortable quiet. She unbuckles her own seatbelt and prepares to get out of the car. "Yeah, let's go."

Lewis opens the car door and steps out, stretching briefly before closing the door behind him. He then walks over to Y/n's side and opens the passenger door for her, offering his hand to help her out of the car.

She smiles appreciatively, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. "Thank you," she says, her voice tinged with gratefulness. She then follows him as they head towards the entrance of the condominium building.

As they walk into Lewis's penthouse, the faint sound of a low thumping becomes perceptible. Y/n glances around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She looks over at Lewis, a quizzical expression on her face, silently asking if he hears it too.

Lewis catches Y/n's curious look and can't help but smile to himself, fully aware of what's about to occur. He says nothing for a moment, amused by the fact that she hasn't figured it out yet.

Out of nowhere, a chubby bulldog appears, sprinting toward Lewis with excitement. Its short, muscular legs carry it swiftly across the floor, its paws creating a thumping sound as they hit the ground. The bulldog clearly recognizes its owner and makes a beeline straight for him, tail wagging joyfully.

Lewis crouches down to meet Roscoe, his face breaking into a wide smile as the dog happily rolls onto his belly, begging for some attention. Lewis laughs and begins to scratch the dog's belly, his fingers rubbing the animal's belly fur affectionately.

"Hey, buddy," Lewis coos affectionately, his voice filled with warmth as he speaks to Roscoe. "Did you miss me?" The bulldog responds with a slobbery grin and continues to wiggle his short, stub tail on the floor in bliss.

Roscoe looks up at Lewis with big, soulful eyes, his tongue hanging out, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of his owner. He playfully licks Lewis's hand, expressing his happiness in the only way he knows how.

Roscoe, in the middle of his display of excitement towards Lewis, suddenly halts, his furry head tilting to the side as he notices Y/n's presence. His wide eyes focus on her, his gaze inquisitive and a little cautious, as if wondering who this new person in his home is.

Y/n stands there, a mix of surprise and uncertainty on her face, not quite knowing how to greet the curious bulldog. She looks over at Lewis, silently seeking some guidance on how to approach his pet.

He notices the change in Roscoe's behavior and the puzzled look on Y/n's face. He stands up and gestures for her to come closer, a reassuring smile on his face. "It's okay," he says, his tone comforting. "He's just curious. Come closer."

Y/n steps closer, her nerves palpable as she admits to Lewis that she isn't particularly fond of dogs. "Um, is this a good time to say I'm not really a dog person?" she mumbles, her voice tinged with slight unease.

Lewis chuckles, a mix of amusement and understanding in his eyes. He glances down at Roscoe, who is still sitting and watching Y/n intently. "Oh, really? Well, that might be a problem," he teases jokingly.

She cautiously moves closer and gives Roscoe a tentative pat on the head, her touch light and tentative. The bulldog responds by closing his eyes in the pleasure of the unexpected attention, his stumpy tail wagging once again as he basks in the affection.

Lewis watches the interaction and smiles, finding the scene amusing yet endearing. "See?" he says, his voice encouraging. "He likes you already."

He stands up, motioning for Y/n to follow him into the kitchen. "C'mon," he says, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I'll grab us some drinks."

Y/n follows Lewis into the kitchen, her face transforming into a surprised smile as she asks a question. "Why do we need drinks?" There's a hint of curiosity in her voice, as if she's secretly hoping for a particular reason.

Lewis uncorks the bottle, taking out two wine glasses from the overhead cabinet. As he pours the wine into the glasses, he glances over at Y/n, his eyes holding a playful twinkle. "Besides," he says, a sly smile on his lips, "we need to celebrate our marriage properly, don't we?"

He passes a wine glass to her, his fingertips lightly brushing against hers for a moment as he does so. The atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly feels a tad heated as the implications of his words hang in the air between them.

Y/n takes the offered glass, her heart skipping a beat as their fingers touch briefly. The look in his eyes and the undercurrent of flirtation in his tone are hard to ignore. The words "we need to celebrate our marriage properly" echo in her head, causing a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

Lewis pours himself a glass of wine, then pours another for Y/n as she settles into her seat. He moves around the counter, the wine glass in his hand, and takes a seat next to her. The silence is comfortable, but the air is charged with a simmering tension, the earlier flirtation not yet faded.

Y/n holds up her wine glass, lifting it slightly in his direction. "Cheers," she says, her voice carrying a note of excitement. The clinking sound of their glasses meeting fills the air, the act oddly intimate and charged with unspoken desires.

Their eyes meet over the rims of their glasses, the moment charged with a mix of tension and anticipation. Y/n takes a sip of her wine, the liquid smooth and cool as it touches her lips, but it's the man sitting next to her that leaves her feeling flushed and warm.

Time has passed, and the wine has taken its toll. Both Y/n and Lewis are visibly tipsy, their cheeks flushed and their inhibitions lowered. She finds herself in a slightly drunken state, her speech more slurry than Lewis's. They're exchanging stories, the wine loosening their tongues and making them more susceptible to sharing their secrets and embarrassing anecdotes.

Y/n continues her story, her voice a bit slurry from the wine but filled with amusement. "So, there I was, planning to go grocery shopping, right? But then Lyka calls and invites me out for drinks. And well, as you can imagine, one drink turns into several, and the next thing I know, it's been three hours. I completely forgot about the grocery shopping. Then, instead of coming home with actual groceries, I end up bringing home this stray white cat I found. And thus, my cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil was born."

Lewis can't help but chuckle lightly as he listens to Y/n's story, finding it both absurd and endearing. He leans his face against his palm, his elbow propped up on the counter, his eyes sparkling with tipsy amusement. He glances at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "You named your cat what?" he asks, his voice tinged with playful disbelief.

His laughter continues, the image of Y/n coming home with a cat instead of groceries amusing him more than it probably should in his current state of drunkenness. "You named your cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil because you forgot about grocery shopping and got drunk instead?" he asks, grinning widely, clearly finding the situation hilarious.

Y/n grins widely, nodding enthusiastically in affirmation. "Yep, that's right," she says, her voice filled with tipsy mirth. "Extra Virgin Olive Oil. And let me tell you, he's the most spoiled cat ever. All because I couldn't stick to my grocery shopping plans."

She feels a sudden brush of fur against her leg, her gaze dropping down. But before she can even react, Roscoe takes off like a shot, darting away with one of her high heels clenched in his mouth. Y/n's eyes widen, and a tipsy laugh escapes her lips.

Y/n jumps out of her seat, a tipsy grin on her face. "Roscoe!" she yells, giggling as she tries to catch the dog who's now prancing away with her high heel. Lewis watches the scene unfold, his laughter joining hers, finding the whole situation hilariously adorable.

Y/n's pursuit of Roscoe continues, her steps a bit unsteady from the alcohol. She tries to catch him, but her foot catches on the edge of the rug, her already tipsy balance getting the better of her. She trips over, her body stumbling forward, a yelp of surprise escaping her.

Lewis sees Y/n's fall, her carefree chase after the dog abruptly interrupted by her slip on the rug. He gets up from his seat, a slight worry crossing his face. But before he can make a move, Y/n raises an arm up from the floor, and yells out, "I'm okay!" Her voice is slightly slurred but there's a sense of pride in her tone, as if she's proud of her resilient demeanor despite her tipsy state.

As she stands up with a wide smile on her face, she doesn't realize the small cut on her elbow until Lewis points it out. Y/n glances down, noticing the slight trickle of blood on her arm. She touches the spot, a little surprised, but the alcohol has numbed the pain, giving her a false sense of invincibility. She giggles, looking at the cut with amused detachment.

Despite her stumble and the small cut on her elbow, Y/n's demeanor remains carefree, her eyes blinking in a slightly confused manner. The alcohol has dulled her senses, so pain feels distant and the reality of the fall hasn't quite registered in her mind yet. She looks up at Lewis, a slightly bewildered expression on her face as if she's not quite sure how she ended up on the floor in the first place.

Lewis lets out a small, playful exhale and saunters over to Y/n, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. "Alright, come on, sit down," he instructs, his voice laced with a hint of amused frustration. He guides her over to the couch, steadying her a bit as she clumsily flops down onto the cushions.

He turns away, giving her a warm smile, and says, "Okay, sit tight. I'll be right back. I'll get a bandage for that cut on your elbow." He strides out of the room, leaving Y/n slumped on the couch, a little drunk and a bit bewildered.

Y/n lounges on the couch in a slightly disheveled manner, her body stretched out like a starfish. She looks like a ragdoll, her limbs flung about in a completely comfortable yet chaotic way. The alcohol has made her feel relaxed and carefree, completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying haphazardly on the couch, waiting for Lewis to return with a bandage for her now-forgotten cut.

After 5 minutes, Lewis enters the room carrying a small first-aid kit. He looks over at Y/n, noticing that she's a bit more composed compared to a few moments ago. The alcohol's effect seems to have subsided a bit, perhaps due to the short break in time. He walks over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her, the first-aid Kit in his hand.

"Seems like you're getting a bit more sober now," he observes, his tone gentle as he opens the first-aid kit. He takes out an antiseptic wipe and a small adhesive bandage, preparing to clean and cover the cut on her elbow.

"Hold still for a moment," he says, his voice soft. He gently takes her arm and begins cleaning the wound with the antiseptic wipe. The cool touch of the solution stings a little, but he's careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain.

Y/n winces a bit as the antiseptic wipe touches the cut, a small "ow" escaping her lips. The alcohol has numbed her a bit, but the sting of the antiseptic still registers. She looks at her arm, watching as Lewis carefully cleans the cut, his touch light yet deliberate.

"It's alright," he soothes, his tone gentle. "I'm almost done." He continues to clean the cut, making sure it's free of any dirt or debris before gently placing the bandaid over the cut. His touch is light and careful, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her arm.

Once the bandaid is placed, he gently pats the area around the cut, securing it in place. He then releases her arm, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. He looks up at her, a small, reassuring smile on his lips.

Y/n gazes at Lewis, her eyes studying his face intently. She takes in every detail - the curve of his lips, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight stubble on his chin. The alcohol still in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more observant. She continues to stare at him, not saying a word.

Lewis notices Y/n's unwavering gaze, her eyes taking in every feature of his face. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. Seeing her silent observation, he jokingly asks, "Got something on my face?" His voice is light, and his words are filled with humor.

Y/n shakes her head, continuing her silent observation, her gaze still fixated on his features. And then, in a surprising move, she leans forward, her lips brushing against his in a soft, slow kiss. The alcohol in her system lowers her inhibitions, making her actions more impulsive and carefree. The kiss is unexpected but filled with an undercurrent of desire and affection.

Lewis is taken aback for a moment, caught off guard by her unexpected kiss. But then, he relaxes into it, his eyes closing as he responds to her contact. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. The kiss deepens, the alcohol in their systems making it heady and impulsive.

Y/n, emboldened by the alcohol and the heat of the moment, makes another bold move. Without breaking the kiss, she shifts her position, straddling his lap, a leg on either side of him. Her body presses against his, her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer as she continues kissing him, her actions driven by a combination of intoxication and desire.

She suddenly pulls away from the kiss, the reality of her actions sinking in. Her blush spreads across her face, a mixture of embarrassment and desire filling her. She looks at him, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly ragged from the intensity of the kiss. The alcohol in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more impetuous, but she still feels a mix of shyness and confusion at her own behavior.

Lewis looks at Y/n, a hint of confusion and surprise in his eyes. He gently cups her face with his hand, his thumb tracing the contour of her cheek. He asks her softly, "Why did you stop?" His voice is a mix of curiosity and tenderness, his gaze holding hers as he waits for her response.

Despite the buzz of alcohol in her system, Y/n hesitates, her actions and her desires at war within her. The kiss had been spontaneous, driven by a heady mixture of alcohol and desire, but now she feels a sense of self-consciousness and insecurity. Her blush deepens under his touch, and she looks into his eyes, trying to find the words to explain her sudden break in their intimate moment.

"I…I don't know," she stutters out, her voice small and unsure. "It's just…I don't know…" Her gaze flickers away from his, unable to hold his intense, questioning stare. The alcohol and the heat of the moment have made her impulsive, but now she feels exposed, vulnerable in her straddling position, her guard faltering under his soft but insistent touch.

Lewis gives her a reassuring smile, his hand still cupping her face. Seeing her hesitant, he gently draws her back towards him, his other hand coming up to rest on her hip. He pulls her down, bringing her face closer to his, and kisses her again, his lips pressing against hers with a soft but determined pressure. The kiss is slow, tender, and deliberate, his tongue slipping out to caress her lower lip, seeking more.

With a swift movement, Lewis stands up, still not breaking the kiss, his hands holding onto Y/n's thighs to keep her stable. The shift in positioning causes her to tighten her arms around his neck, and their bodies press even closer together. Lewis's grip is firm but gentle, his strength evident as he holds her up with ease, the kiss continuing unhindered.

He walks with purpose towards the bedroom door, his strength and balance holding Y/n securely in his arms. In a move that seems completely effortless, he keeps one hand on her thigh, supporting her weight, while his other free hand reaches out, unlocks the door, and swings it open. He strides across the threshold, carrying her into the room, the kiss never once breaking.

Inside the bedroom, he kicks the door closed behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. The only sounds filling the room are the soft gasps and sighs exchanged between them as the kiss deepens, fueled by a heady mixture of desire and alcohol. Lewis shifts his grip slightly, his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist, holding her steadily as he guides her towards the bed.

Lewis gently sets Y/n down on her feet, helping her regain her balance. Then, with a soft yet firm pressure on her shoulders, he eases her backward until she sits on the edge of the bed. He stands in front of her, his body looming over hers in a way that is both dominant and protective. He looks down at her, his gaze darkened with desire, his breathing slightly heavy.

With a subtle but deliberate action, Lewis's hand moves up to Y/n's neck, his fingers wrapping around the delicate skin in a light but firm grip. He squeezes gently, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to assert a sense of control and possessiveness. The kiss that follows is quick, fierce, and possessive, his tongue invading her mouth in a dominant, needy manner.

Y/n whimpers into the kiss, the sound caught between a protest and a moan of pleasure. Lewis's dominant grip on her neck, the way he claims her mouth in a possessive kiss, fuels the fire within her. Her hands come up to cling to his shoulders, the mixture of pleasure and submission washing over her in waves.

Too caught up in the intensity of the moment, she grips the loops of Lewis's pants, her fingers hooking onto them as if anchoring herself. The action is both needy and desperate, a silent plea for more as she looks up at him, her eyes burning with desire and anticipation.

Lewis glances down at Y/n, noticing her fingers gripping his pant loops, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. Teasingly, he leans down, his face close to hers, and whispers, "So needy, aren't you?" His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, his words carrying a hint of possessive satisfaction.

She looks up at Lewis with wide, innocent, doe-like eyes, her expression a mixture of need and submission. She doesn't respond, her voice caught in her throat, but her grip on his pant loops tightens just a fraction, her body silently begging for more. The contrast between her innocent gaze and her needy actions is striking, and the heat in her eyes speaks volumes.

Lewis continues to look down at her, his eyes taking in her beautiful, vulnerable expression. He reaches out a hand, tracing the line of her neck with his fingers, but the touch light is barely there. He can hear her soft, ragged breaths, can feel her pulse quickening under his touch, and his own need, his own desire, increases exponentially.

He leans in, his lips moving to her ear, his breath against her skin as he whispers, "You're so gorgeous like this, so needy for me." He kisses her ear, his lips moving down to her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, hot kisses down the delicate curve of her neck.

Lewis continues to kiss along her neck, his mouth nipping and sucking gently at her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her sweetness. His hands slide down her body, caressing her sides, his touch both tender and possessive, his own need growing with every soft sound that escapes her lips.

He bites gently at her pulse point, a small, possessive act that makes her gasp and whine softly. His hands move to the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the line of exposed skin, his touch both gentle and firm. "I want you," he whispers against her skin, his voice rough and full of desire, "so badly."

His hands slide underneath her shirt, his palms pressing against her skin, feeling her warmth and softness against his touch. He feels her shiver at the contact, her body responding to his touch like a perfectly tuned instrument. He kisses her collarbone, his mouth moving down to the hollow of her throat, his lips trailing along her skin with increasing need.

His hands move higher, his fingers tracing the contour of her stomach, her ribcage, her breasts. He feels her arch into his touch, her body craving more contact, more of his touch, his caress, his attention. He can feel her need, her desire, the way her breath hitches at his touch, and it only fuels his own fire, his own burning need for her.

Lewis pushes her gently back onto the bed, his body hovering over her, his weight propped up on his forearms. He looks down at her, his eyes roaming over her face, her body, taking in the sight of her beneath him, soft and yielding, yet filled with an undeniable fire and desire.

His fingers move to the buttons of her shirt, his touch slow and deliberate as he unfastens them one by one, revealing her bare skin inch by inch, his lips following the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

Y/n's breathing becomes ragged as Lewis' hands reach the last button, freeing her breasts from the confines of her shirt. She pushes the fabric off her shoulders, tossing it aside, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.

Lewis' hands cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples. Y/n moans, her head falling back as she arches into his touch. Her hands roam over his body, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

She slides her hand inside, gripping his erection through his boxers. Lewis groans, his hips bucking into her hand. Y/n pulls him closer, their lips meeting in a rushed kiss as she fumbles with his boxers, freeing his hard cock.

She strokes him slowly, her thumb rubbing over the head, making him moan into her mouth. Lewi's hands leave her breasts, training down her sides to her waistband. He hooks his thumbs into her pants, pulling them down her legs, leaving her completely naked.

Y/n steps out of her pants, her body trembling with desire. Lewis' eyes roam over her, drinking in the sight of her before he pulls her back against him. He reaches around, unfastening his braided belt, letting it fall to the floor.

He pushes her onto the bed, following her down, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, his hand guiding his cock to her entrance. Y/n's breath hitches, her legs parting, welcoming him.

Lewis positions himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers, filled with lust and desire. He pushes inside her, slowly at first, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Y/n gasps, her nails digging into the sheets as he fills her completely.

Y/n bites her lip, her eyes widening as she feels the full extent of Lewis' size. "Fuck, you're huge," she hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her.

Lewis smirks, his hands gripping her hips as he begins to thrust, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Like it sweetheart?" he growls, his voice deep and seductive.

Y/n nods, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusts to his size. "Yeah, I... I love it," she admits, her voice breathy and needy.

Lewis grins, his hand sliding around Y/n's neck, applying gentle pressure. "Good," he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and more forceful.

Y/n's eyes widen at the added sensation, her body arching off the bed as her arousal intensifies. "Lewis," she whispers, her nails digging into his back, "don't stop."

He doesn't, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his hand tightening around her neck just enough to heighten her arousal. Y/n's moans grow louder, her body trembling in anticipation of her impending orgasm.

Y/n's voice is barely a whisper as she gasps, "I'm... I'm close, Lewis."

Lewis, however, is lost in the sensations, his focus solely on the feel of Y/n's tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock. He continues to thrust, his hand still tightly around her neck, his body moving in perfect unison with hers.

Y/n's orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cries out, her nails digging into Lewis' bicep. Her walls clench around his cock, milking him as he continues to thrust.

Lewis' thrusts grow more erratic, his grip on Y/n's neck tightening as he feels her orgasm grip his cock. Her shaking only serves to fuel his desire, his release drawing near.

He pulls out of her, Y/n's protest cut off by the loss of his cock. He positions himself at her entrance once more, his cock glistening with her juices. "On your knees, sweetheart," he commands, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n obeys, her body still trembling as she gets onto her hands and knees. Lewis lines up his cock with her wet pussy, thrusting back inside her, this time from behind.

His hand leaves her neck, instead gripping her hair, pulling her head back as he begins fuck her with renewed vigor. Y/n's moans fill the room, her body responding to her every thrust,

Lewis' thrusts become more rushed, his breathing heavy. "You're such a good girl, taking my big cock like that," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

Y/n's body shudders, her arousal building once more as she feels him fill her from behind. "Mmm, Lewis," she moans, her voice thick with lust.

Lewis' hand tightens in her hair, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for me one more time," he says, voice a mixture of command and desire.

Y/n's body responds to his words, her orgasm building once more. "I... I'm close," she gasps, her nails digging into the bedsheets.

Lewis feels his own release building, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me," he demands, his cock pulsing inside her.

Y/n's body convulses, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Lewis can no longer hold back, his cock pulsing as he releases his hot seed deep inside her. He collapses onto her back, his breathing heavy as he tries to regain his composure.

Her body shudders, her mind swimming in the aftermath of her orgasm. Lewis slowly pulls out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum between her legs. He rolls off her, pulling her into his arms, their bodies entwined.

They lie there, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Both are out of breath, their hearts still racing from the intensity of the experience. Lewis is holding Y/n close, her head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. The room is quiet, the only sound being their ragged breathing, the sound gradually slowing and evening out as they regain their composure.

Y/n breaks the silence, her voice a bit hoarse but weary. She looks up at Lewis, her head still pillowed on his chest, and says, "That sobered me up real fast." Her words are a mixture of exhaustion and satiation, the aftermath of their passionate encounter leaving her both depleted and fulfilled.

Lewis gives a soft laugh, his fingers still tracing patterns on her back. He nods, agreeing with her words. "I guess that's one way to sober up," he replies, his voice still a little breathless. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch soft and affectionate.

Y/n jokes, a weary but playful smile on her face. "Well," she says, "that was like our very own little honeymoon night, wasn't it?" Her comment, although lighthearted, carries a hint of seriousness, a nod to the intense and passionate connection they had just shared.

Lewis chuckles softly, a smile on his lips. He gently pulls her closer, his arms tightening around her. "I guess you could say that," he responds, his voice warm and gentle. "We definitely made some memories tonight." He looks down at her, his gaze filled with tenderness and affection.

Y/n hisses as she adjusts her position, a slight wince on her face. Her body is likely still sensitive from their passionate encounter, and she moves gingerly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Lewis notices her hiss and the wince on her face, his expression immediately becoming one of concern. He asks her gently, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice is laced with worry and concern, his fingers lightly coming up to caress her cheek.

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes meeting his. "No, I'm alright," she reassures him. "Just a little sore, I guess. But it was worth it," she adds with a sleepy smile.

Lewis continues to look at her, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. He asks again, his voice filled with concern, "Are you sure you're alright? Soreness is normal, but I don't want to hurt you." He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and caring.

Y/n nods, a small smile on her face, and jokingly says, "Well, I guess there's an easy fix for that. Just take me out on a shopping spree, and I'll feel like a million bucks again." Her tone is light and humorous, indicating that she's not entirely serious but also hinting at her desire for some pampering and shopping therapy.

Without hesitation, Lewis reaches for the nightstand near the bed and grabs his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a credit card, then hands it to Y/n with a smile. "There," he says, his voice lighthearted, "your ticket to feeling a million bucks. Go wild."

Y/n's eyes widened as she took his credit card. She playfully gasps, a mischievous smile on her face. "Are you serious? You're giving me carte blanche with this?" she says, holding the card up and examining it like it's a precious gem.

Lewis nods, a smirk on his face. "Dead serious," he confirms, leaning back against the headboard. "Go nuts. Buy whatever you want, and don't hold back. It's on me."

Y/n places the credit card on the nightstand, her smile playful. "Oh, it can definitely wait till tomorrow," she says. "I think we should both rest and recover from tonight's… activities." Her tone is teasing, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Lewis chuckles, a knowing smile on his face. "I agree," he replies, his voice deep and gravelly. "We definitely need some rest after tonight. But tomorrow…tomorrow is all yours. Shopping sprees, pampering, the works. I can't have you sore for too long, can I?"

Y/n smirks at his words, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "You know, you might be starting to regret giving me that credit card already," she teases. "You're creating a little monster here."

Lewis laughs heartily. "Oh, I'm fully aware of the monster I'm creating," he replies, still sporting a smile. "But honestly, I find it kind of hot. The thought of you going on a shopping spree, spending my money without a care in the world… it's strangely alluring."

Y/n teases, a mischievous grin on her face. "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting something for you too," she says. "After all, a good shopping spree isn't complete without a little gift for the guy who's footing the bill."

Lewis pulls her back towards him, drawing her close against his chest. He settles back against the pillows, his arm wrapping around her in a protective, comforting embrace. Y/n's head rests against his chest, her body tucked snugly against his, and he gently kisses the top of her head. "Sweet dreams," he whispers, his voice soft and affectionate.

yn.ln

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vminizzle · 1 year ago

Text

Wanna get married

pairing : bestfriend!jungkook x f.reader

genre : FLUFF

warnings : mention of drinking alcohol, reader is tipsy, jungkook is bestfriend goal, they cute, that's all :)

word count : 1.7k

A/N : Hi my lovely people, I hope you've been doing good. Like I told you, I wrote a little drabble for you guys since I'm making you guys wait for sweet lips 3,, It's just a little something just to thank you guys for your patience and reading my stuff. REMINDER : poor English,, I wanna apologise in advance like you guys already know English is not my first language so please don't mind the mistake. Love you guys - sunny

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED 🍂

“wanna get married?” you asked between giggles.

“you confident?” he raised an eyebrow amused at the sudden burst.

“I’m asking if you can handle.” he smiled teasingly as you let your body rest on his.

“Of course I can.” you replied as you looked up at him, your hand going up to his hair to play with the long black locks.

Jungkook bit on his bottom lip, staring down at you. You looked so beautiful, the moonlight showing off your pretty features, he could only smiled.

“I want to kiss you.” you whispered eyes sparkling as you stared at his lips with lust.

“angel, you know we can’t do that.” Jungkook laughed slightly, holding you by your waist.

“I love you Jungkook.” you blurted out after a few seconds, arms wrapping around his neck.

His heart skipped a beat at the words, throat getting dry. He knew you weren’t thinking right so he avoid the conversation.

“y/n, you’re drunk.” he flicked your forehead making you whine in pain.

“noo I’m not!” you punched him lightly on his chest making him laugh.

“C’mon let’s go home.” he held you tightly, helping you walk as you kept on struggling to stand straight.

“my feet hurt.” you whined tiredly letting your body dropped on the ground.

Jungkook watched as you took your shoes off throwing them at the other side of the road.

“hey hey no don’t do that.” he closed his eyes exasperate.

Your best friend crouched down sighing at your current state.

“I shouldn’t had let you drink.” he shook his head before grabbing your hand helping you up.

He went to grab your shoes handing them back to you.

“C’mon, we’re not so far from home.” he encouraged you making you shake your head.

“I’m tired. I can’t walk anymore.” you huffed.

“You can go home, let me there.” you pointed to the sidewalk.

Jungkook watched in disbelief as you sat on the ground again.

“are you serious right now?” he tilted his head to the side.

“good night.” you yawned as you were about to lay down making Jungkook rushed to you to stop you from executing your stupid idea.

Your best friend sighed heavily before pulling you up again.

“C’mon.” he turned around, bending his knees slightly.

“piggyback?” you said excited, jumping on his back making Jungkook groaned.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed loudly, voice resonating in the dark empty streets, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Be quiet y/n.” he warned shushing you.

“yessir.” you whispered giggling making Jungkook smiled softly.

You nuzzled your head into his neck, your warm breath caressing his skin gently.

After walking for a few minutes, you were in front of your best friend’s house.

Jungkook was hesitant about you sleeping at his house tonight. Not that he didn’t like you staying over. Not at all. He loved when you’re spending time together. You’re used to do movie nights, sleepovers at each others, but tonight was different.

You were not really sober.

And he wasn’t sure of how you were about to act.

When being drunk, you often try to kiss him, confess your love to him; you’re just really clingy.

Unlocking the front door, he gestured you to enter first before locking it after him.

Turning around you envelope his body into a big hug surprising him as you look up at him.

“you’re handsome tonight.” you said shyly making him smile with a breathy laugh escaping his mouth.

“thanks. You’re not bad yourself.” he flicked your forehead making you pout.

“go upstairs, I’ll come in a few minutes.” he pushed you gently to the stairs.

“you can change into confortable clothes. You know where it is.” he said before walking away.

A few minutes late, Jungkook was standing in front of his bedroom’s door knocking softly on it, waiting for you to allow him to enter the room.

“y/n?” he knocked again when he heard nothing. It was silent.

“Can I come in?”

Jungkook threw his head back tiredly before huffing getting a bit sleepy. He just wanted to sleep.

“Can I come in? Are you finished?” he asked again a bit louder.

Did you fall asleep?

Are you in the bathroom?

Did you faint??

Entering the room almost panicked, Jungkook‘s eyes widen slightly in relief.

Here you were standing in the middle of the room wearing one of his Calvin Klein oversized shirt.

“Koo!” you ran to him with a wide smile on your face, hands coming to his broad shoulders for another hug, the oversized shirt ridding up your thighs when doing so.

“hey.” he gulped feeling your body pressed oh his tightly.

“didn’t find a sweatpants?” he asked walking to his wardrobe when you shake your head.

Handing you the comfy clothes, he informed you that he was gonna freshen up a bit.

You snuggled into his bed under the warm sheet waiting for him.

After a few minutes, Jungkook exited the bathroom finding you in his bed.

Don’t get him wrong, you often slept with him in his bed during sleepover but when you’re drunk he rather not. For his own good.

He didn’t want to make a mistake so he approached the bed, laying a soft kiss on your forehead before grabbing his pillow making you frowned.

“where you going?” you tilted your head to the side confused.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch… I wanted to.. hmm I wanted to watch a movie before sleeping.” he lied not wanting to make you sad.

“aren’t you tired? Your eyes are puffy and you keep on yawning.” you pointed out yawning yourself.

“Not.. not really.” he looked down avoiding your eyes.

He didn’t like lying to you, he started feeling guilty.

“Please sleep with me.” you said a small pout drawing its way on your lips making him sighed as you sat up.

“Princess, I can’t-“

“You don’t love me.” you started, tears bubbling in your eyes.

“hey no no! No don’t say that. That’s not true.” he rushed to the bed shaking his head.

“I love you.”

“Really?” you sniffed making him sit on the bed nodding.

“I do. I really love you.” he said reassuring you. He meant it. His heart beating way too fast for his liking. He knew he loved you, more than what you were… best friends.

“sleep with me.” you pleaded at him with doe eyes making him bite on his bottom lip, hesitating on what to do.

He finally sighed, putting his pillow on its usual place making you squeal happily.

Laying down on his back next to you, you joined him, laying down again, staring at him as you approached him.

“what?”

“you’re cute.” you breathed out.

“thanks.” he replied.

“you’re cute. I wanna kiss you.” you whispered, face getting closer to his.

Before he could say anything, you connected your lips together softly making him widen his eyes in shock.

He didn’t know why he kissed your back, the feeling of your soft lips on his making him hummed into the kiss.

No. No, he couldn’t do that.

Wake up, Jungkook! he scolded himself.

He pushed you slightly away, breathing heavily as he shake his head watching you frown, feeling disappointed at the short kiss.

“I.. I can’t do that. I’m sorry. You’re not sober y/n. That’s not right of me doing that. I don’t want to.. y’know. You’re not thinking straight. I won’t take advantage of this situation.” he explained slowly.

You just nodded, not understanding everything he just said before scooting closed to him again making him furrow his eyebrows.

“Can we at least cuddle?”

He hesitated staring at you.

“I won’t kiss you.” you pouted making him smile.

“Alright then. I trust you?” he checked again.

“I promise!” you put your hand up in the air, with a huge smile.

“good. come here.” he opened his arms as you snuggled into his warm embrace.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you murmured against his chest catching his attention as he hummed.

“But don’t tell yourself.” you added.

“What?” he laughed at your nonsense.

“so you’re telling me a secret but I can’t say it to me?” he couldn’t help but smile.

“yup!”

“I’m listening.” he replied curiously.

“I’m in love with Jungkook since I’m 10.” you smiled, hand playing with his fingers.

Jungkook was speechless as he didn’t know what to say or what to do. You really did surprised him right now.

“Do you think he feels the same?” you finally looked up at him, a bit of shyness and curiosity filling your eyes.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he just said, not replying to your question.

“yes.”

“I’m in love with you.” Jungkook said with a cute smile.

“but.. I love Jungkook.” you sat up looking down at him feeling confused.

“I don’t want to break your heart, but I love him already.” you started hands on your lap.

Jungkook wanted to burst out laughing but you were so cute.

“well, that’s ok then.” he shrugged.

“But do you want an advice?” he sat up too making you nod.

“You should tell him you love him.” he bit on his pierced lip trying to stop himself from smiling.

“Really? But I’m scared if he feels uncomfortable if he doesn’t love me the same. I don’t want to lose him.” you explained sadly.

“you won’t lose him, don’t say that. Just tell him, he’s your best friend right?” he raised an eyebrow.

“yes he is!”

“So, tell me- I mean tell him you’re in love with him when you’re sober tomorrow.”

“Sober? Am I drunk? No! I’m sober!” you slapped his arm earning another laugh from him.

“yea yea whatever. Come sleep now.” he pulled you down with him, putting the blanket over your bodies.

“good night angel.” he caressed your back gently making you hummed.

“good night.” you laid a quick peck on his cheek before resting your head on his chest.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. His heart melting when thinking about the whole conversation. He felt the unfamiliar butterflies in the pit of his stomach, it felt unreal for him.

He slept good that night, feeling excited to wake up the next morning.

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tangylemonade · 6 months ago

Text

Family

Pt 2 of No One Else

Jeonghan x afab reader

18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)

Word count: 11.4k

꧁ ☂︎(angst) & ⚠︎(smut) w/ a pinch of ☁︎(fluff) ꧂

🍋’s Queries: Did this fic make you think of a song when you were reading it?

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (don't forget the casing before you stuff your sausage), cursing, mentions/descriptions of abuse/violence, Mafia au, mentions/descriptions of injuries. Jeonghan smokes a bit, talks about having killed someone. Please let me know if I missed anything.

“A liability!” Said Jeonghan’s father, glaring at him as he spoke. “If you are willing to jeopardize a mission then it’s a liability.”

“Everything went well, Father. There was no other way than to kill her.” Jeonghan responded. Forcing himself to remain calm knowing that getting angry would be of no benefit.

He slammed his fist on the table and stood up from his chair, sending it rolling hard into the wall.

“A liability Jeonghan. You deal with it or I do.” He walked to the door.

“Don’t you dare.” Jeonghan said. His voice was serious and cold. It scared him when he heard it.

His father turned around sharply; his hand raised in an angry fist. “Is that a threat boy?”

Without so much as a flinch Jeonghan stared at his fathers angry eyes. Suddenly his father chuckled, clapping Jeonghan on the shoulder.

In his fathers old age he’d become slower and weaker. Jeonghan noticed how the old man's touch didn’t leave behind as much fear. Jeonghan held his place, glaring at his father and maintaining his icy stare.

“Do what you will, boy. But if you ever go against my orders again… you too will be considered a liability. And I never leave loose strings Jeonghan. You know that best of all.”

Jeonghan's father walked out of the room leaving Jeonghan all alone in the dimly lit lavish office to massage his aching shoulder.

His fathers' words echoed heavily in Jeonghan’s mind as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

The woman his father claimed to love. The woman who carried his unborn child. It didn’t matter that what she did was to save her life, and the life of his son. She was a liability, so he dealt with it leaving their prematurely born baby crying and hungry until the maid took pity.

Jeonghan was raised by the head housemaid Kim, living in the servant quarters and only being allowed in the main house to attend lessons and training. He spent his adolescents clawing his way through insults and blows just to prove himself. It wasn't until he was older that he realized he would never be enough and trying so hard wasn't worth it, but by then the damage was done.

He had a bruised ego and a misplaced heart that struggled to tell the difference between right and wrong.

But in this very moment he was certain about one thing. No one was going to lay a finger on you, not even his father.

His clenched fist left cuts in his palms until the sharp pain sobered him. Without another moment wasted Jeonghan left that dreadful house, his heart only steadying once he was in his car driving towards…you.

☾

“Why do you think Boss sent us together?”

Jeonghan paced in boredom smoking his second cigarette as his slightly younger brother Jisoo worked on opening the newest shipments crate.

“He didn’t. I lied.” Jisoo smiled at him, charming as ever. “Why do you still call him boss? You’ve known he was your father for-like-ever.”

Jeonghan angrily stuffed his hands in his pockets. “He’s no father of mine… wait what do you mean you lied?”

Jeonghan kicked at his brother, but he dodged it without even looking and continued his work.

His brother stopped fiddling with the crate he was opening so he could shrug. “I just didn’t want to go alone.”

He then turned to Jeonghan so he could speak to him directly. “I don’t know why you insist on saying that.”

“What? Why wouldn’t I?" asked Jeonghan. He was starting to feel annoyed with his brother's lack of understanding. “You and I both know he only told me because DongYul is a failure.”

His brother’s expression turned serious as he placed his hands on Jeonghan's shoulders. “Don’t speak about DongYul like that. Besides, it does us no good turning against each other. And listen, Father made sure you got the same experiences as us, only now you understand why. Shit man you probably had it better.”

“How so?”

“At least you have Kim. Our mother didn’t even tell us before she left.”

“Well my mother is dead. My *father* killed her, remember?”

Jisoo shrugged.

Jeonghan looked down. Jeonghan wondered if Jisoo could see the glistening in his eyes as they began to sting. He shrugged off his brother's arm in hopes of shaking off the emotions as well.

“Hey, aren’t you glad that finding out about your lineage included the perks of two awesome brothers?” Jisoo said, changing the subject.

Jeonghan scoffed. “DongYul was a piece of shit, Jisoo.”

“He never got over the fact that your mom was the mistress that made our mom leave. He's actually really sensitive, you know?

“Oh Jisoo The Great Defender of The Sad and Sensitive.” Jeonghan said with a condescending bow.

Jeonghan’s experience with his older brother had been nothing short of cruel. If Jisoo hadn’t kept the peace Jeonghan and DongYul probably would’ve killed each other.

Jisoo rolled his eyes at his brother’s dramatics. “I know he wasn’t the kindest to you, but you have no idea what he’s been through.” Jisoo continued. “The things he’s had to do.”

But Jeonghan did know. He knew of the burdens that came with being the eldest son of Yoon DongHan. He was always nearby when Kim would tend to his brothers after training, missions, and… disciplines. He would hear their horror stories as they recounted in jest to distract from the pain, Dong-Yul drinking alcohol to numb it before he was even 15. He learned before anything else that their father tolerated little.

Mr. Yoon would decorate Jeonghan and his brother for even the slightest incompetence. He would always say “You either learn here or you learn out there, and the world is not as forgiving as I am.”

Their father was right. At least he would stop before they died.

DongYul being the eldest was hit with the brunt of responsibility. He was constantly busy with transactions and helping with the many businesses the Yoon family owned. DongHan only recently split the workload between his sons, not out of compassion but rather for efficiency.

But did it really excuse the way DongYul treated him? Did it matter that his brother was in far more pain than he would put Jeonghan through? And most of all… why did Jeonghan miss him?

•••

When Jeonghan opened the door to the cabin a fragrant aroma filled his nose. Looking around he discovered the source, a pot simmering on the stove.

He turned around to find you reclined on the living room couch, your chest rising and falling with each soft breathing you took.

Jeonghan sighed, his hands scrubbing his eyes as if that could rub some sense into his thoughts.

Taking another look, he picked up a blanket from nearby to drape over you. He hesitated as his eyes took you in up close. There you laid in only panties and one of his white tees that were practically see through. It was hot in the living room and the thin sheen of sweat on your visible skin made it seem as if you were glowing under the warm light.

Smiling, he discarded the blanket and went to turn on the fan.

The noise of the appliance was enough to startle you awake causing you to slide right off of the couch. But before you could hit the ground Jeonghan reached out, catching your body in his arms.

“Careful now.” Jeonghan's voice fell soft against the pounding of your heart in your ear drum.

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you fixed your (his) shirt and sat up straight. “When did you get here?”

You had been in Jeonghan's little secret cabin for a couple weeks now, so things naturally began to slip into a rhythm. Jeonghan would visit in the daytime a few times a week and never stayed the night so you couldn't help but wonder what he was doing here.

“Just now.” He said standing and heading upstairs.

Scurrying to the kitchen you turned off your stew and then walked upstairs after him.

“Are you staying long? I made dinner and it just finished so I'm about to eat.”

His room door was open, so you stepped in while you continued to speak. “Good thing you showed up or I might have burned the house down. I knew that book was too boring, but I wanted to give it a fair shot, you know? Next thing I knew I was…sleeping...” Your voice disappeared as your eyes laid on Joenghans naked form.

He stood there relaxed and unbothered by your intrusion only raising an eyebrow before continuing to undo the clasp of his watch.

You quickly turned around in shame. Before you could slip out of the room, he called your name, and you froze in place.

“Oh- the door was open- I'll just...” You started to walk out again when Jeonghan called out.

“Wait. Help me with this.”

Assuming he meant the watch he was just struggling with you answered quickly. “Of course.’

Trying your best to angle your eyes upwards you turned around and began walking towards him only to be stopped in your tracks once again.

His watch laid neatly on his bed and his hands were busy stroking the semi-hard on he was now sporting.

“If you’re gonna walk around like that you could at least have the decency to help me out.”

You looked down at your thin clothes and wanted to perish on the spot.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight. If you called, I would’ve put on more clothes.”

“Well then, my apologies.” Jeonghan said incredulously in that nonchalant way that you recently discovered made you see red.

“What do you think I-“

“Follow me.” He said firmly, cutting you off and walking towards his bathroom.

You stood there defiantly. What did he think this was? Did he really think you were just going to listen to him? You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. He is just so…so…. ugh. Does he really think you were just at his beck and call?

But weren't you?

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. And it wasn’t the first time you’d helped him out.

Your voice of reason screamed at you as you walked into the bathroom.

The shower was already on, and you could hear a soft grunt coming from behind the curtain.

Your heart pounded through your body as you once again vacillated between your choices.

‘Fuck it.’

You quickly strip before carefully sliding the curtain over. His back was turned to you, his head under the shower as he slowly pumped into his fist. If he noticed, you entering the shower he made no show.

Standing closer to him one arm wrapped around him, resting on his stomach, while the other steadied the hand that he stroked himself with. He relinquished his cock to you, his tired body instantly leaning back into your embrace. His eyes shut contently as your soft hands enveloped him.

Pumping faster and faster you pleasured him until his hot seed coated your hand and the shower wall. Still leaning against he let both of your arms wrap around him, one hand resting on his heart and feeling the slowing rise and fall of his chest as the water splattered against your bodies.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly. You wanted to savor the moment, but his abnormal behavior was making you worried. Normally after he’d finish, he would simply clean up and leave. But today he didn't move, his heart still pounding.

Jeonghan didn’t respond. Instead, he turned around pressing you against the shower wall, his knee pressing into your swollen core before moving over to spread your legs.

His calloused fingers wrapped around your neck with gentle pressure, his lips hungry attaching to yours. The kiss was fiery and urgent, his teeth pulling your bottom lip and drawing blood that you tasted on his tongue as he slid it into your mouth. His free hand wandered your body squeezing and kneading your flesh with gusto. The wayward hand eventually found purchase on your hips, holding them in place as he unceremoniously pushed inside of you.

Your vision blurred as the pain stretched into pleasure, his size pushing deeper into your hot and wet cunt.

Jeonghan groaned into your neck in between sucking harsh bruises into the sensitive skin. Without giving you any more time to adjust he thrusted again, this time coaxing tears from your eyes and his name moaned from your swollen lips. His strokes were quick and angry, but you could feel the tension in his body begin to dissolve. With now slower movements you were able to match his pace with the rocking of your hips. It wasn't long before you were both falling apart, his arms holding you in place as your exhaustion took over.

After showering off and helping you to do the same, Jeonghan pulled you to his bed. You didn't let your bafflement stop you from laying with him and allowing him to rest on your bosom, his arms holding you close.

“Jeonghan…” You softly ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp the way you always did after at some point realizing it always relaxed him.

He softly shushed you, his voice thick with exhaustion. “This is nice.”

He was right. This was so nice it hurt. You knew it wouldn't last. A relationship without honesty is destined to fail.

Nevertheless, you selfishly savored the moment, holding him tighter as if it would keep him with you forever. But Jeonghan was gone when you woke up.

Getting up you brushed your teeth and examined your skin in the mirror. The bruises that were kissed into your skin last night and the previous nights now took the place of your old ones that were filled with the haunting memories of your capture. You briefly wondered if that had been his intention before shaking the thought away and getting dressed.

Downstairs there was a simple breakfast on the table for you of toast and eggs. You poured yourself some water, ignoring the food and going back to bed.

☾

Laying in his bed Jeonghan looked at your soft and warm bare body sleeping soundly beside him. His fingers gingerly traced your skin as he breathed in your heavenly scent. Although his heart knew you were safe besides him, his mind still tormented him with the images of you the night he found you. Paranoia forced him to watch over you even though he knew you were safe and sound.

He had killed Stella himself. It wasn’t the first life he’d taken. But it was the first he’d wanted to take. His first kill that was not an order.

When he saw her crouching over your bloodied body… the wicked smile on Stellas face when she saw Jeonghan was the last moment before... he snapped.

The memory of it all played through his mind time and again. He was supposed to bring her in, there were still assets to recover and accomplices only she knew the location of now gone forever.

But Jeonghan didn't hesitate until he was holding you in his arms again.

He did it for you. He did it for…Dongyul.

His eldest brother had been his biggest enemy growing up. But now…it all felt so insignificant.

DongYul who craved compassion his whole life was met with the harsh glares of his father and even harsher blows. Like a moth to flame Stella was intoxicating for him. Despite Jisoo's pleading words he would run to her, taking comfort in the lies she wrapped him in.

Only a few months ago he’d busted into Jeonghan's room, rage burning in his blown-out pupils. But Jeonghan didn't fear him anymore. He stood up looking his brother who no longer towered over him in the eyes.

“Get out.” Jeonghan said calmly and was met with rough hands on his collar.

DongYul reeked of alcohol and his tank top allowed Jeonghan a view of the needle marks that decorated his skin.

“DongYul! What is this!” Jeonghan grabbed his brother's arm, ignoring his brother's aggression. “What were you thinking?”

His concern for his brother surprised them both.

“Save it!” Dongyul growled. He shrugged Jeonghan’s hand from his arm before letting go of his collar.

“What do you even know? You just lay around while everything gets handed to you.’ His voice was bitter and angry.

He pushed Jeonghan hard and Jeonghan stumbled back, banging his head on the wall. Securing his footing, he prepared himself for a fight, but DongYul only sat on the bed, burying his face in his hands.

“You won Jeonghan… you can have it all…but I need her.” His brother's voice was slow and slurred now.

“What do you mean?” Jeonghan asked as you rubbed his now pounding head.

“Kim…Jisoo…S-Stella…” his brother mumbled as he continued to sink as if he weighed a ton.

“…DongYul” Jeonghan began as he walked towards his distressed family member. “I'll call Jisoo… we can help you whatever it is.”

His brother stood up suddenly on shaky legs. “It's too late. I screwed up big time.’

He’d never seen his brother who didn't even flinch while getting stitched up this…broken.

It petrified him.

“Sit here, I'll go get you some water and find Jisoo. Please…we can fix this.”

Jeonghan carefully sat his brother down. Taking his compliance as an agreement Jeonghan rushed to get their youngest brother and grabbed a bottle of water before hurrying back.

But Dongyul was gone.

Unable to look inside his casket, that night was the last time Jeonghan saw his older brother. A raid on what was meant to be a routine weapon exchange ended as a bloody massacre that killed almost ½ of father's men…including his eldest son.

On the night of his eldest son's funeral Mr. Yoon called Jeonghan into his office.

“It’s about time you start taking on more responsibilities as a member of this family. Not just trades, there is more important business for you to attend to.”

Jeonghan did even know why he was shocked; this was exactly like with father. But it still made bile rise in his throat.

“The soil hast even settled yet…’

“As my eldest son I expect you to know your place.’ He cut Jeonghan off without even looking up from the work at his desk. “Don’t become foolish like your brother. And don’t be a coward like your wench of a mother.” He said before waving his hand, ending the conversation and sending Jeonghan away.

“Don't speak about my mother like that!” Jeonghan said without control. Normally he wouldn’t speak back after being dismissed.

His fathers glare wasn't enough to make him back down.

“Do not overstep, boy. I suggest you learn your place before you end up learning it like her. I told you already, I clean up my own messes.”

He looked up at Jeonghan with dark eyes that shone like the devils in the dim light of his office.

Jeonghan used all of his strength to calmly walk away. He shut the door before racing to his bathroom and hurling in the toilet. Kim, who had heard of his meeting with his father from Jisoo, came to check on him.

“Oh dear.” She said when she found him leaning against the bathtub.

She left and returned with tea before sitting next to jeonghan on the bathroom floor where he layed, tears angrily falling from his eyes.

“Did you know?” He asked quietly.

“Know what darling?” Her soothing voice did nothing to calm the turmoil Jeonghan was feeling.

Jeonghan looked at her with tearful eyes. “Did you know that that monster killed my mother?”

Kim could only nod.

She wiped his tears as her own began to fall. “I watched it happen...”

Jeonghan sat up and looked at the woman who his heart now broke for.

Kim had raised him as her own after having a stillbirth only a week before his birth. To her it was meant to be. When the other maids all cowered in fear she stepped up taking the shivering baby in her arms and wrapping him tightly in her sweater. Her body that had been preparing to be a mother fell right into step as she fed and held him close while she worked.

Although that period in her life was hard to look back on, she still felt Jeonghan should know so she held his hand as she spoke.

“Your father would have done anything for your mother. He was crazy for her, but he wasn’t careful. It didn’t take long before one of his many enemies had her. She was young, pregnant, and… so scared. Then one day she was back. She said they got lazy, that she had escaped while they were distracted.’

Kim paused to swallow the lump in her throat.

“You don't have to tell me.” It disturbed Jeonghan to see her struggling.

Kim shook her head and continued.

“She used to always hang around smiling and chatting with the workers but she wouldn't leave her room. One night she called for me and the state she was in scared me half to death. She was all panicky and high on whatever they had given her while she was there. That night she broke down and told me that she gave them information in exchange for her freedom. She loved your father but she didn’t fear him…and that was her downfall. Then I found out that she wasn't the one who called for me. When she wouldn't talk to him, he knew she would talk to me. He killed them and then he…”

Kim couldn't continue, her sobs swallowing her words. Jeonghan could only hold her as heartbroken tears spilled from her eyes.

☾

Waking up you stretched out as you always did, this time your arm knocking into something. Opening your eyes you turned over quickly to find Jeonghan laying in your bed next to you. He stirred before opening his eyes.

“You’re still here?” You asked in surprise.

“Ouch.” Jeonghan chuckled and propped himself on his elbow, looking down at you with a smile.

“No no, I didn’t mean it like that.” You said, sitting up and turning towards him. “It’s just that you’re normally gone by morning.”

He nodded at you but his eyes seemed distant.

“What is it?” You asked scooting closer to him.

“It’s been over a month and yet no one has come asking about you.”

“Wasn't that the point?’ you snipped back, pulling your knees to your chest and burying your head in your arms.

You felt his arm on your shoulder causing warmth to spread through you but you shrugged his hand away. You were starting to feel aggravated with him.

“What are you getting at anyway Jeonghan?”

“Well…if I kept you here forever no one would even care.”

Your eyes welled with tears as you looked at him in horror.

“What the hell is wrong with you!”

Jeonghan instantly noticed the heartbreak in your voice.

“I didn't mean it like that i-”

You stood up now, grabbing the robe that hung beside your bed and covering yourself with it.

He pulled himself to the edge of the bed and grabbed your arm.

Your view of him began to blur and your breathing came quickly. His arms were around you fast, pulling you towards him and holding you tightly.

“I promised to keep you safe.” He whispered to you.

“…This…this isn't living, Jeonghan. I’m going crazy. Trapped here as you come and go. You hardly speak to me. When I wake up, you’re gone and then I'm left here feeling used and …all alone.”

He sat there quietly holding on to you.

Feeling dejected from his lack of response you started to free yourself from his grasp. “Never mind.”

“At 7 years old I’d gotten my first broken bone. Training, my father called it. Preparation. My leg still hurts when it rains.”

You stilled in his arms as you listened.

“He used to make us spar. The winner was whoever was still conscious. Loser was locked in the penalty box without food and water for a few days. He chose the number in pair with your level of failure.”

The way he spoke was so indifferent as if he was simply recounting tales of a grocery store run instead of years of abuse. Turning on his lap so that you were facing him you held his face in your hands.

“Then run away with me. We don't have to live like this.” Your face was inches from his as your lips hovered together. Holding your hand he stroked your knuckles. “We can leave this all behind and never look back.”

You felt Jeonghan’s lips smiling against your cheek where he kissed your hot tears away.

“Don’t be so naive.”

His words cut through you like daggers.

You pulled back, searching his soft eyes for answers that they never gave.

“I told you all of that so you can understand how I was molded. So you can understand that all reality with me in it will never be peaceful.”

“Jeonghan-“ your voice broke.

“Have you ever taken a life before?” He asked so quietly you nearly missed it.

“N-no.”

“You can never understand how silly you sound at this moment.”

Frowning at him you hit his chest. “Don't you patronize me.”

He grabbed your wrist so tightly it hurt a bit.

“Let me go Yoon Jeonghan.”

His gaze lost its softness as it pierced through you, but you didn’t back down.

“You wouldn’t last a day in my world.” He said, his voice bitter and harsh.

Pulling your wrist from his grip you fixed him with your own icy gaze.

You began to move again but this time his hand on your hips secured you against him.

You frowned at him. “I said let me go!”

“Stay.” He said softly. “I need you to stay.”

You felt the fight deflating from you, only exhaustion remained. “I’m suffocating, Jeonghan.”

He rubbed circles into your hips, his voice soft and low. “Without you it's all unbearable.”

How did he know just what to say to you? Your heart was racing and your skin felt clammy and hot.

No! You can’t live like this. This isn't living.

But were you okay with never seeing him again? Never feeling his warmth? Never tasting him?

Holding your face, Jeonghan roughly pulled you closer to him, placing a hot kiss on your lips. He was fiery and addicting. Your answer was clear.

“No.” You whispered, gently pulling away although it pained you. “I won’t be your pet, I can't.”

This time when you went to stand, he didn't hold on, his arms fell to his sides dejected.

Backing away from him slowly you turned around and began picking your clothes off the floor.

“Either you take me home or I find my own way.”

Jeonghan didn’t call out for you or plead. He only nodded before walking out. After a few minutes you heard his car start.

Nothing here was yours so you quickly dressed before leaving.

☾

“Get your ass up!” Jisoo yelled, kicking Jeonghan in his side. We have to go check the shipment today and Father is starting to notice that you haven’t been showing up to meetings.”

Jeonghan groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head. His brother hit him again and ripped the blanket away.

“I’m serious dude. And I still need to vet a new treasurer because the last one was skimming whom I had to handle last night BY MYSELF. I’m tired of covering for your ass.” He walked out screaming “I swear to you Jeonghan I will come back with a taser.” Before shutting the door behind him.

As much as Jeonghan wanted to punch his brother he knew he was right, so he begrudgingly got up and got ready. Walking into the kitchen he stopped short when he saw his father seated at the kitchen table.

“You still follow around Kim like a blind puppy.”

Jeonghan angrily pulled out a chair, sitting down across from his father.

“I live here, remember.” He grumbled as he poured himself a cup of tea. His appetite was gone at the sight of his father.

“Yes, well I expect you in the main house by the end of the week.”

“What! Why?” Jeaonghan was completely caught off guard.

“It’s time you stop lazing around and get to some real work.” With that his father stood and headed out the door showing that his word was final.

Jeonghan slammed his cup down, breaking off the handle and spilling tea on the side of the table.

“Oh my.” Kim said, suddenly in the kitchen and rushing to clean the spill. “And I really liked that set.”

Jeaonghans mood relaxed as he looked at Kim's somber expression.

He knew she had hundreds of teas sets all around this house, all which she called her favorite.

He gently held her hand and she leaned down into a hug.

A quiet sob shook her shoulders.

Jeonghan knew as well that his world would change completely once, he left. Even in Kim’s warm embrace he still felt the weight of his father's expectations on his already heavy soul.

☾

Trying to get back into the swing of life proved to be as difficult as you’d expected. Eventually you got the strength to go and collect your things from work. You realized that it wouldn't be appropriate to ignore any more of your bosses' calls, the final one saying that your things were going to be disposed of if you didn’t come for them, by the end of the week.

There was nothing important there, but you went and got it anyway. You tried to smile and ignore the concerned questions and glances of your ex-coworkers, but they still bothered you. If only they knew how right, they were to worry for you.

You spent the rest of the day outside just roaming around aimlessly. Your house felt so small and lonely. Once the sun had set you forced yourself to go back home.

Walking into your house you placed your box of your things on the counter instantly reaching for the bottle of wine you’d left there this morning. You felt around but when you still couldn’t find it you sighed and turned on the light.

Frozen in terror your brain rushed through all of its possible escape options as your eyes looked to the stranger that was sitting at your dining room table sipping your wine.

“You know I’ve never drank the cheap stuff before, but this really isn't half bad.”

He took another swig before flashing you a charming and all too familiar smile.

“Are you Jeonghan’s brother?” You asked, your hands reaching for your keys. You remembered Jeonghan mentioning his siblings, but you couldn't remember their names.

“Astute.” He said without a genuine smile. “But not smart if you think those keys will do anything other than piss me off.”

The man stood up and walked towards you, stopping before he got too close. “My name is Jisoo. I come in peace.” He showed you his empty hands before putting up two peace signs and waving them at you with a goofy smile.

“I’m here to offer you a job opportunity.”

........

"Okay."

"Seriously?" Jisoo asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

It only took a moment after he had explained what it was that he was offering you before you agreed. you weren't entirely sure why it felt so easy to say yes but you didn't question it at al.

You knew that you were absolutely crazy to say yes to Jisoo. The new treasurer for one of the biggest gangs on this side of the country.

“It will require you to move.” Jisoo said, still a little surprised by how quickly you agreed.

“Sure. no problem.”

Jisoo only shrugged before scribbling his information on a napkin.

“Call me when you’re ready.”

With that he downed the last of the wine, gave you a wink, and walked out of the door leaving you drowning in your thoughts.

☾

You periodically dried your hands on your jeans while clutching onto your duffel bag.

All that you'd packed fit only in one duffle bag. Has your life really been that small?

“You’re a pretty one.” Jisoo said, looking at you instead of the road.

You returned his comment with a frown. “Pardon?”

“You know I didn't really get a good look at you before because your house was all dark and depressing but now, I can see why Jeonghan has been all screwed up.”

Jeonghan hadn’t even so much as tried to contact you since your last interaction. Hearing Jisoo's words made your heart constrict. Was Jeonghan feeling just as shitty as you were?

The Yoon house was more like that of a palace. Now parked, you tilted your head to see the top of the huge building through the car window.

“Beautiful isn’t it.” Jisoo said, stepping out of the car. “You’ll be working in the main house, but your room will be in the servants' quarters…which is this way.” He grabbed your bag from you and walked away leaving you no choice but to follow him.

“Don’t worry, it’s also very nice.”

He was right. Although the servant quarters were significantly smaller than the main house it was still beautiful and grand.

You followed him inside and he led you past the kitchen and into a spacious and elegantly furnished bedroom.

“You’re free to use anything in this house. This is your room. I’ll call you to the main house when you have business to attend. For now, just get settled and comfortable.”

You looked around the room taking in the beautiful layout when a familiar small frame peaked into the room with a warm smile.

“Oh, and this is the head maid-“

“Kim!” You said excitedly. You ran to her and gave her a hug, her arms wrapping around you warm and welcoming like soup for your tired soul.

Even though you only saw her a few times she already felt so familiar, causing a breath of relief to wash over your anxious mind.

“I see you've met already.” Jisoo said but was ignored as you and Kim caught up with each other. “Well since you’re in good hands I’m gonna head out ... .aaand I’m invisible.”

Jisoo shook his head and walked out of the room.

“Oh darling, it's lovely to have you here.” Kim said holding your hands. “Now I can have someone to talk to.”

“Aren’t there other house workers?”

“Oh, there are plenty. But none of them are like you” She winked at you with a smile that you couldn’t help returning. “These workers come and go so often I stopped bothering with anything more than pleasantries. But I have a feeling that you and I darling are going to be great friends.”

It felt nice to know there was someone around that you felt you could trust and rely on.

•••

By now you had been in and out of the house plenty of times as you get acquainted with their records and logbooks that you needed for work. And yet… you still had not run into Jeonghan. Was he avoiding you?

You rolled your eyes as you packed your things and headed back to the servants' quarters. What would you even say if you saw him?

It was late and you had been working all day trying to sort the mess of files Jisoo had dumped on you. The last guy really did a number on them and Jisoo wanted it fixed as quickly as possible. You wondered what happened to the last treasurer but ultimately decided to shake off the thought. ‘Best not to over think.’ You told yourself.

After a long hot shower, you still weren’t in the least bit sleepy. Insomnia was wrapping its cold fingers around you and it was starting to become more and more exhausting. With a sigh you put on your pajamas and made your way to the kitchen to brew yourself some tea.

You brought some files back with you to sort and review while you sat down and sipped on your tea. Preoccupied and completely engrossed in your work, you didn't notice the gentle sound of the door opening and shutting.

“Kim?” A voice softly whispers as a familiar frame creeped into the dim kitchen.

You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Turning around quickly your eyes landed on the slender man that stood before you. Even after months apart your treacherous heart remembered the dance it did just for him.

“Y/n!” Jeonghan looked truly shocked, his eyes wide with confusion.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “Jisoo said you live in the main house.”

“I was looking for- wait shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

You shrugged. “I live here. I’ve been working as your treasurer for a bit now. Didn’t Jisoo tell you?”

“No… he didn’t.” Jeonghan said a little distractedly. “You shouldn't read in such dim lighting.”

He went and turned on a light that was on the side of a cabinet, filling the room with a bright glow.

“So that’s where that was. I couldn't find it and just gave up.”

“You could've asked someone.”

“Everyone is sleeping.”

You both fell into an awkward silence as you looked everywhere but at each other.

“Uhm…Do you want some tea?” You asked. You smiled timidly and you saw his body relax a bit.

Jeonghan carefully pulled out and sat in the chair right next to you.

You got up, grabbed another cup and poured Jeonghan a cup of tea, placing it in front of him.

In the time it took you he was already flipping through your papers only taking a pause to taste the tea.

“This is good.” He said, taking another sip. “Where’d you buy it?”

“Thank you, I mixed it myself. Please don’t mess with my papers.” You quickly gathered up your papers from where he had moved them in front of him. “I’m trying to sort them and you’re making a mess.”

You reached for the papers in his hand, but he smiled and pulled them out of your reach.

“That’s really mature Jeong- '' as you reached for the paper you slipped and fell into him, his arm wrapping securely around you and holding you close.

With Jeonghan's close proximity all but your beating heart had abandoned you. In a stupor you allowed his warm lips to wrap around yours, tasting as sweet as you remembered them.

You pulled away with hot tears suddenly spilling from your eyes.

“Absolutely not Yoon Jeonghan.” you stood and backed away from him, his face blurring in your eyes.

“Y/N…”

The way his voice called your name was deadly for your health.

“I told you already. I’m not your plaything.”

He stood up now, reaching out for your hand but you swiftly pulled away as you took another step back.

“I hate feeling used. My whole life… never again.”

He walked closer and his darling scent filled your nose. Green tea and cigarettes… and liquor. You hadn’t taken notice before but… had he been drinking?

He reached out again but this time you stayed still, allowing his calloused hands to softly hold your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks and swiping away your tears.

In the next moment you were watching his back as he left you feeling confused and …tired. You cleaned up and went to bed falling asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow.

•••

“Jisoo you piece of shit.”

“Good morning to you too. I'm a little busy right now.”

He gestured to the moaning mound underneath his covers, no doubt his flavor of the week.

“The new treasurer. Jisoo what the fuck?!”

“Oh, so you’ve met her.”’ He placed his hand on the mound, stopping the movement as he looked up at Jeonghan’s angry face. “I thought I told her not to come over without telling me?”

“I ran into her last night when I went to check on Kim.”

“Good god, Father is right, you do follow her around like a puppy.”

“Don’t you ever quote that dick head to me again.” Jeonghan’s voice came low and serious.

“Okay okay calm down. What happened to you? You used to be so chill? Listen, you know Father hates distractions. Don’t give him a reason to think Kim or Y/N are, okay?”

Jeonghan felt true horror at what Jisoo was insinuating. He knew that his brother was right.

Jeonghan leaned against the wall feeling deflated and dizzy with anger.

“How did you find Y/N anyway?”

“Seriously?” Jisoo asked sarcastically. “Super sexy by the way.”

He followed the last sentence with a smirk that was met with Jeonghan’s furious glare.

“Oh relax. You’re no fun anymore.” Jisoo said dismissing Jeonghan’s attitude with the wave of his hand. “Listen Jeonghan, brother to brother, you need to get your shit together before Father does it for you. I can assure you he won't be as careful about it as you. Now get the fuck out of my room.”

Jeonghan left without another word, the moaning starting up again before he closed the door. He knew his brother was right, it was time to pull his head out of the sand.

☾

In a job like Jeonghan’s there was always something that needed to get done. The bigger you are the less people think you notice. Unfortunately for them you don’t grow from the lack of concern, there are eyes everywhere.

As Mr. Yoon got older his lifestyle allowed him more youth than his peers but alas age was catching up on him. That meant the Jeonghan and Jisoo's responsibilities were increasing 10-fold.

In a family like the Yoon's where they didn’t take the easy way out through human and drug trafficking business management was important. Jeonghan's job tonight was dealing with an overzealous CEO of one of their liquor companies who was brave enough to start a slush fund.

Thanks to their new and ever so clever treasurer a lot of those kinds of parasites were coming to the surface.

Jeonghan wished the man had just chosen the easy way but irrational and crazy was always the theme. Father always told them that if someone started a fight it didn't end until one of you was dead. Even though the ass hole had gotten a few good slices in, Jeonghan had been the victor.

Coming home tired and exhausted he just wanted to shower and… see you. Wracking his brain for an excuse to visit the servant quarters he pulled off his bloodied shirt and headed to his room. A light peaked through the cracks of a study room door and Jeonghan figured Jisoo was working late. As he walked closer to check in on his brother when a familiar laugh filled his ears.

Suddenly high alert he crept closer, his back to the wall as he listened in.

“No no, those don’t go over there Jisoo!” Your voice came like honey to his ears. “You’re not helping.” There was that laugh again cutting through Jeonghan more than the tussle earlier that night had.

“Whatever you say Madam. I’ll just sit here and watch you work your magic.” Jisoo’s voice was coated in honey as he laughed along with Y/N.

‘What’s even so funny?’ Jeonghan grumbled quietly to himself. He took a deep breath before opening the door and casually strolling into the room. He saw red when his eye landed on you sitting crossed legged on the table in a tank top and shorts as Jisoo leaned over your shoulder reading the paper in your hands.

Jisoo looked up first, a smile playing on his lips when he spoke. “Well, you look like shit.”

You looked up, your face crumbling with concern the moment your eyes met with Jeonghan’s battered body.

He had a bloody shirt in his hands and fresh cuts on his slim frame, the biggest of which was still bleeding through the bandage that was haphazardly wrapped around it.

“Thanks.” Jeonghan said sarcastically to his brother before throwing the shirt at him and sitting down on the chair near the wall. His hair fell into his face but the shadows draping around him couldn’t hide the bags under his sleepy eyes. Jisoo blocked the shirt, and it fell with a wet thud to the floor.

“Gross! This isn't all your blood, is it?” Jisoo wined, wiping his hands on his pants.

The urge to brush his silky hair aside and hold him to your chest was so all-consuming it made you feel nauseous.

“You could’ve helped me, you know.” Jeonghan continued to his brother, completely ignoring you.

“Serves you right after the shit I did for you.” Jisoo retorted, still wiping his hands in disgust before smiling smugly at Jeonghan. “Besides I knew you could handle it, and I had to keep my new friend company.”

He placed his hand on your shoulder, giving a squeeze and smiling down at you.

“Eww, don’t touch me with those hands!” You laughed and brushed Jisoo's hand away before quickly looking at Jeonghan and catching something flicker across his face that left as quickly as it came.

“Well.” Jeonghan said standing and walking to the door. “Don’t work too hard, I’m going to bed.”

The moment he shut the door behind him you hopped down from the table, giving a good stretch before you began stacking your papers.

“Well, I better go before it gets too late.” You said with a shy smile as you suddenly felt awkward.

“Booo, you guys are boring.” Jisoo leaned against the table, his eyes watching you as you gathered your things. “You know there’s no point ignoring him if you're waiting around for him anyway.”

“What?” You looked up at Jisoo's' bored expression.

“Sleep with me.”

You searched his face for something to tell you he was joking, rolling your eyes in frustration when you found nothing of the sort.

“Both of you are so…so…ugh” You gave up with an exasperated sigh as you finished picking up your things.

“I'm just saying…” Jisoo began with his hands up defensively. “If you don’t want to sleep with me you must still want to sleep with him. So why are you giving each other the cold shoulder?”

“Oh my- good night, Jisoo.” Waving goodbye, you left the room in a huff.

Jisoo was crazy just like his brother. Crazy and annoyingly right. But you didn’t need Jeonghan’s handsome and extremely slutty younger brother to tell you you still wanted Jeonghan.

After a quick shower and a cup of tea you found yourself tossing and turning in bed as you thought about that man who plagued your heart.

Was he okay? Those cuts looked pretty bad. And he was still bleeding. Did he need help?

You groaned in frustration holding your pillow over your head. What even was your life?

Jeonghans shower proved difficult with open wounds. Most of the blood on his body wasn’t his so he couldn't bear another moment longer with it on his skin. Struggling to wash his hair with his sore arms proved drying as completely impossible. Only having the energy to pull on pants he flopped on the floor and leaned his head back, his damp hair leaving a wet spot on his blanket.

Drifting off he figured he had imagined the gentle rapping on his door but when it came again, he got up and took a look.

“Y/N!” He said in disbelief. “How did you find my room?

“Jisoo told me.”

You didn’t wait for him to let you in, pushing past him you hurried through the door in fear of being spotted. You carefully placed the bag of things you brought for him against the wall. “I wanted to see if you needed help.”

He was quiet for a moment, carefully letting the situation flip around in his head before speaking.

“Well…my hair is still pretty wet…”

You nodded and headed straight for his bathroom finding the blow dryer abandoned on his sink counter.

Finding an outlet near his bed you sat down before gesturing for him to come.

He silently sat between your legs with his back leaning against his bed, his head resting on your stomach.

Your thigh was soft and warm against his arm as your fingers delicately combed through his hair as the warm air blew.

Feeling completely relaxed the moment passed too quickly for Jeonghan and he found himself wishing he never replaced his broken dryer that barely worked.

He felt disappointed as you stood but you only picked up the bag you brought with you and pulled out a first aid kit and a canteen.

Walking towards him you placed the canteen on his nightstand and sat down next to him on the floor.

“These don’t look like they need stitches, but I’ll ask Kim to check in the morning. For now, I’ll clean and bandage them, okay.”

All Jeonghan could do was nod as your soft fingers tenderly cared for him. You finished quickly and once again he found himself feeling ridiculous as he wished that he’d taken a few more cuts in the fight.

You sitting so close to him left him feeling incomprehensibly ravenous.

Your body felt a shift in the atmosphere, so you quickly stood up and scurried to the door. You feared your own treacherous desires in his presence.

“There is some porridge in there for you. I can’t promise it’s good, but it is still warm.” With that you grabbed your bag and slipped through the door shutting it silently behind you.

You came and left like a breeze leaving Jeonghan to wonder if maybe he’d imagined it all. But the still warm container of porridge on his nightstand and that sweet scent of you that lingered in the air told him that it had all been true.

Each bite made him more tired than the next, but he forced his eyes open as he finished the savory meal you prepared for him. Feeling peacefully warm he slipped under his covers and fell fast asleep.

You quietly cleaned up the kitchen, apologizing to the workers who were just getting in for the noise before going upstairs to your room and slipping into bed. Flashes of earlier flooded your thoughts but it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep.

☾

The ringing blare of the main house sirens alerted you awake. Quickly jumping from your bed, you ran from your room only to be swept in the crowd of staff that were rushing from the house. Once outside and still in a daze you stopped in your tracks and looked up in terror.

People crashed into you as you watched the huge dark gray bellow of smoke that rose from the main house. An entire wing was engulfed in bright orange flames. Someone knocked into you hard causing you to fall to the ground. The wet earth seeped through your thin nightwear as you watched staff rush to set up the hoses to the water lines. Finally snapping out of your stupor you pulled yourself up and rushed to help.

When the fire was gone, and the commotions died down the silence settled like the embers that lightly fizzled out in the damp grass. The news traveled fast amongst the staff in waves of shock and horror.

Mr. Yoon was dead.

While his sons were away on a mission someone had killed him and set his mansion wing ablaze. Carefully trekking through the rubble a few of his men retrieved his body.

The funeral was private with Yoon DongMin’s place of rest being somewhere only his sons knew.

Every day following the house was quiet and somber as the brothers worked tirelessly in search of the culprit.

Some nights they would walk through the door of the servant quarters with exhaustion slowed steps and blood splattered across their clothing. It wasn't sadness that fueled their restless hours, it was pride and principle.

“It doesn't make sense!” Jisoo yelled, kicking over the chair beside him.

You looked up from the files you were tirelessly pouring over every night to get their business affairs in order after their fathers passing.

Jeonghan ran his hands through his hair in equal frustration. He took another drag from his cigarette, but it didn't calm him.

“How could someone not only sneak into our high security house but also find Fathers room and catch him off guard enough to slit his throat!” Jisoo was pacing now as he spoke.

“Maybe it's someone he knew?” Jeonghan said pensively. “A prostitute? A set up?”

Jisoo shook his head. “He would never let his guard down like that. And also, how would they know the layout enough to shut off both our main and backup cameras.”

“An inside job?” you threw out into the conversation.

“We question everyone with that level of clearance…extensively.'' Jeonghan said, flexing his fingers to soothe the aching of his bruised knuckles.

“We've all got a shareholders meeting in the morning and you guys are beyond exhausted.” You said soothingly. “Let's all get some rest and regroup tomorrow.”

“You're right.” Jisoo mumbled, suddenly aware of his exhaustion.

The boys had been sleeping in the servants' quarters recently for safety measures so Jisoo tiredly trudged to his room and shut the door.

After you were done packing your things away you turned to Jeonghan who hadn't budged from his chair.

“Do you want me to put on some tea?” you whispered with a small smile.

When he didn't respond you got up and turned on the electric kettle. You pushed in your chair and sat down in the one beside him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Without a response Jeonghan leaned over resting his weary head on your shoulder. You hesitated for a moment before gently running your finger through his hair. The kettle clicked off telling you water was boiled but you ignored it.

“Come with me.” You stood up pulling Jeonghan along with you to your room and shutting the door.

You stripped down to your underwear tossing the day's exhausted clothes in your hamper and then encouraged Jeonghan to do the same. He looked at you with curious amusement but still complied.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his small smile giving away his fatigue.

“Just trust me, okay? Let me take care of you. Please?”

Once he was done you pulled him into your bed, laying him down with the push of your hand against his chest.

You laid down next to him, resting your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, giving a squeeze.

To Jeonghan, the feeling of your warm body flush with his had healing properties.

“I think I sort of get how you feel.” Your voice was soft and careful as you spoke. “When I found out my brother died it felt so weird. I hated him so much but…”

“He’s still family.” Jeonghan finished for you.

Jeonghan lifted his head and looked into your face framed by the cool moonlight.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Moving on to his side he propped himself up, gazing down at you with what resembled the twinkle of a galaxy in his eyes. You smiled up at him, your cheeks bashful from his attention. Holding his face, you pulled him towards you until your desperate mouths met in a fever.

His body was hot and heavy on you as he leaned into your embrace, stealing more of your kisses.

Butterflies from his touch sprinkled across your sensitive skin, the velvet of his tongue intoxicatingly potent. Reaching under you he unclipped your bra, pulling it off, throwing it aside, before leaning down and kissing in between your soft mounds right above your heart.

You lost yourself in dizzy lust as his nimble fingers skillfully played with your swollen clit.

“W-wait.” You said, stopping his hand.

His lips vibrated against your nipples as he hummed to question you.

“Let me take care of you.”

You gently pushed at his chest until he laid back on the bed. Sitting up you straddled his hips and looked down at his amused face.

Jeonghan couldn't take his eyes off your alluring physique. The way your perked nipples still wet with his kisses glistened in the moonlight made it hard for him to form any amount of a coherent thought.

He couldn't resist squeezing your tensed thighs while you rubbed your pussy, wet and warm, up and down his painfully hard erection.

Sultry sounds fell from your pretty lips and made his cock twitch with need.

Just as Jeonghan was sure he couldn't take more of your teasing you lifted on your knees and rubbed his tip at your silky entrance. Completely entranced by your touch he fell apart just from watching the way you pulled your lips into your luscious mouth and crimped your eyebrows as your glistening core slowly swallowed him up.

Once you fit as much of him as you could, you stilled and blinked to halt the spinning of your lust hazed mind. The titillating feeling of your hot hungry walls squeezing around him caused his hips to lift into you in search of more.

Steadying yourself with your hands on his chest you worked your hips against him. His soft grunts poured lustrously in your ears filling you with pride as you continued your movements despite the increasing exhaustion of your hips. As the coil tightened in your core you steadied your breathing so you could last longer for him.

You felt Jeonghan's hands squeezing and guiding your hip, one hand slipping down to your clit and sending your mind into a static like fuzz. Your movements slowed but Jeonghan didn't mind taking the lead a bit by lifting his hips and meeting you halfway.

Missing your lips he reached up and pulled you to him, your sweaty skin rubbing together as the new position pushed him into you deliciously. The drink of his lips accompanied with his thrusts filled you with more ecstasy than your body could contain. The rush of your high overloaded your senses, shutting you down and leaving you feeling as if you were floating. You came back to the mumble of your name spilling from Jeonghan's lips as his hot seed filled you, mixing with your juices and slicking between your sticky spent bodies.

His heartbeat like a drum beneath you, his chest rocking you with every breath. Using your remaining strength, you lift yourself up and peppered Jeonghan with lazy kisses on his smiling lips. The fluttering of his feather-like eyelashes was hypnotizing as you watched him fall peacefully asleep.

Smiling to yourself you moved his sweaty hair from his face, holding a kiss in between his tensed brows until they softened.

“Sweet dreams my Hannie.” you whispered into his neck as you snuggled into him and shut your eyes for the night.

☾

You thanked past you for the alarm that woke you two up in time to get ready for the early morning meeting you had to attend. You shower first before waking him up. Instead of getting ready he laid still watching you with a smile as you scurried around and pulled on your clothes in a panic.

“You know it's okay if we're late.” Jeonghan spoke with a teasing lilt to his voice. He was thoroughly enjoying watching the way you wiggled your pants on.

You looked at him, smiling when you saw his signature mischievous head tilt that destroyed your every defense . You closed your eyes for a second to reset your weakening heart.

“I don't think being late is appropriate if you want to show respect and dignity.”

You sat down next to him on the bed to pull your socks on when he reached over and tickled you.

“Loosen up.” Jeonghan said laughing along with you. He sat up, pulling you closer and placing a kiss on your bare shoulder.

You took the chance to tickle him back, but his reflexes were quicker. Grabbing you he fell back on the bed, pulling you atop him.

You stopped his lips between your two fingers as they littered your breast with kisses. You felt him growing hard beneath you and lifted yourself back up with a teasing smirk.

“I'm going to make breakfast.”

Pulling away from his pleading grip you patted him playfully on the chest and stood up walking away with a sexy sway of your hips leaving him to figure out his own issue.

Jisoo raised his eyebrow at you when he heard the sound of the shower from your room's direction instead of Jeonghans. Without a word he poured his coffee, shaking his head and laughing at the blush that now colored your face.

After the meeting you went home first to finish up with the files in their father's office.

When lunchtime rolled around the brothers ate and then went for a little walk before they had to get back to the stuffy offices in their stuffy suits while stuffy people bored them to death.

“No wonder Father was so fucking miserable; this is depressingly painful.” Jeonghan said to his brother as he stretched and rubbed his eyes.

“Jeonghan. I think that old lady’s been following us.” Jisoo grabbed his brother's arm before he could turn around and look. “Let's just keep walking until we get somewhere more private and then we'll confront her.

Jeonghan nodded and they slightly picked up pace only taking small glances to check if the woman was still following them, which she was.

As the crowd thinned out, suspecting she wasn't alone, the brothers prepared themselves for a fight.

But when they turned around a middle aged woman stood there by herself.

She smiled and stepped closer. Instinctively Jeonghan stepped over to block his brother without taking his eyes off the woman's hands that were hidden in the sleeves of her jacket. Jeonghan reached for his gun and Jisoo quickly turned around to make sure no one was behind them.

“I came alone.” she said, her voice soft and low.

The women, although young looking, had long silver hair pulled elegantly into a bun. She wore a sweater dress with a collar that was low enough to reveal a ghastly scar across her neck. Jeonghan couldn't shake the familiar feeling she felt when he looked at her.

“Jeonghan….”

“How do you know my name?” Jeonghan demanded, now pulling out his gun and pointing it at the woman.

He knew never to underestimate an opponent so despite her small frame he was still on guard. She wouldn't get a chance to hurt him or his brother without a bullet through her head.

She put her hands up to show that they were empty.

“Please, I mean know harm. I just want to talk.’

When Jeonghan did not respond she inched closer.

Once she was a few feet away she smiled up at Jeonghan and spoke. “Jeonghan it's me. It's your mother.”

At that moment he saw it. The young face that smiled brightly in the picture he found in his father's draw when he was younger. The face that Kim had shown him when he had begged her to know more about his mother. Now small and thin her eyes still shone the same whimsical way.

Jeonghan could only lower his gun in quiet shock but Jisoo’s words spoke his mind. “No, that's impossible. You're dead.”

She shrugged casually. “Your father should've known best of all the importance of burying your own bodies.”

If it wasn't for his brother's support Jeonghan might have fallen over.

“It was you, wasn't it?” he asked quietly. “You killed him.”

Jisoo looked at his brother in confusion until all the pieces clicked together for him as well.

“That's how the killer knew where to find the cameras, and his room…” Jisoo thought aloud, his voice sounding almost impressed.

“He was so surprised when he saw me.” she bitterly chuckled as she recounted the night. “I'd never seen him look scared before…” she touched the scar on her neck before stepping closer again.

“So what exactly do you want?” Jeonghan asked, he was struggling to hold back the unidentifiable wall of emotions he was feeling.

“Nothing. I only wanted to free you of that monster, it was all I could do for you.”

She reached for Jeonghan's face, and he let her put a gentle hand on his cheek. Looking into his estranged mothers' eyes made tears well in Jeonghans.

“And to tell you that I love you so much.”

Jeonghan reached to wipe away the rivers that spilled from the woman’s shaking eyes, but she timidly backed away.

“Take care.” she whispered.

“Wait!” Jeonghan called out but the woman quickly turned and hurried away.

He started after her, but he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder. He turned to Jisoo to find his brother shaking his head.

Suddenly Jeonghan found himself laughing. Of all the emotions that whirled through him he wasn't sure why laughter was his outlet, but he didn’t fight it. At first Jisoo blinked at him, completely baffled but soon he was joining his brother.

“I think we've lost our minds.” Jisoo said, wiping tears from his eyes as their laughter finally subdued.

“Actually, I feel great.” Jeonghan said, draping his arm over his brother's shoulder and walking back to their car. “Let’s go home Jisoo.”

☾

Tiptoeing down the cold hall with your bare feet and your throw blanket wrapped securely around your barely dressed body you searched for your lover. Poking your head in each room as you passed it you finally rejoiced upon finding him in his study. His body languidly poured over the papers in front of him as he finished up the day's work.

You carefully creeped towards him in hopes to startle him in his focused state, but he looked up at you and smiled.

“You’re not exactly a ninja, love.”

He tilted his head in that adorable way that still owned your heart.

You spun his chair towards you and threw yourself in his lap.

“Come to bed.”

“I will, soon.”

Jeonghan took a deep inhale of your scent as your deliciously warm body straddled his lap. “You smell delicious.” he said playfully biting your shoulder, your giggle filling him with energy as you swatted him away.

“Did you talk to your mom today?”

“Umhm. She went back to Japan last night, so she called me when she landed.”

You could tell he still felt weird talking about her.

“Before I forget, open that draw.” Jeonghan said pointing to the right draw of his desk.

You smiled at him curiously before turning around on his lap and pulling out the draw. Your breath hitched the moment your eyes laid on the open jewelry box that was reviled to you.

“I figured I owed you something proper. These are all custom made just for you.”

Jeonghan reached around you and picked up the beautifully carved wooden box, bringing it closer to you.

Reaching inside you picked up a necklace with a delicate golden chain and a pendent that sparkled. You took the box from his hands and closed it before setting it on his desk and giving him the necklace.

Jeonghan placed a tender kiss on your neck before clasping the necklace around it. Holding your cheeks he gently turned your face to him and left a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Can I stay here while you finish up?” You said with round pleading eyes that he would never resist.

“You have to hold on, I need my hands free so I can work.

“I've got an idea!”

Jeonghan's eyebrow raised at you as you lifted the hem of his tee shirt, ducking under and crawling inside, resting your head on his chest.

The vibration of his laughter was soothing as he wrapped the cover around you, tucking the sides so it wouldn’t fall off.

“You are a very peculiar person.” He said while rubbing your back to still the shaking of your giggling.

His shirt was large and it secured you nicely against him, the warmth of his body and scent completely relaxing you.

“Hey! Don’t tickle me.” He said patting your butt in jest-full scolding.

“Then don't be so ticklish.” You said poking him once more.

“Either you stop, or I toss you out.”

You exaggeratedly gasped. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.” He said, grabbing hold of your waist and lightly beginning to pull.

“Okay okay I won't tickle you.”

You had to wrap your arms tightly around him to stop from slipping as you laughed.

“What’s this?” You asked, your hands brushing against slightly raised skin down by his hip bone.

“Just a tattoo Jisoo wanted to get with me. You can see it later, stop moving.”

“How about you read aloud so you can stay awake, and I can go to sleep?” You request.

The soft hum of his voice vibrating through his chest was absolutely serene causing you to drift into a comfortable sleep.

When you woke up again you were in his bed still cuddling against him, his shirt gone and his arms like a cocoon around you. You struggled to slide from his embrace you as he mumbled protests against your shoulder and pulled you closer.

“Shhhh, I’m just going to pee.”

When you came back for the bathroom he was sprawled out in the bed, the covers no longer covering his torso.

Sitting down next to him you examined his new ink.

“Family….” You read in a whisper.

You delicately traced the thin loopy letters until Jeonghan stirred. Grabbing your hand, he smiled sleepily at you before pulling you against him.

“Jisoo wrote mine and I wrote his. To remind us of what’s important, of why we’re still doing this.”

He paused for a moment, thinking as he rubbed your back. You could feel the gentle thump of his heart… feel the peace in each beat.

“You, Jisoo, Kim… you guys are my family.”

WANT MORE OF MY WORK?

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sourpatchys · 1 year ago

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Daryl Dixon Headcannons

Sfw❤️ nsfw❤️‍🔥

The NSFW content is targeted towards an AFAB reader (like myself) however, I’d be happy to do an AMAB version if anyone is interested!

❤️.

Daryl is always watching you. The guys favorite hobby is just being able to see you in his field of vision.

He definitely doesn’t show public displays of affection, PDA is not something he’s comfortable with, and if you were to kiss him in front of a bunch of people he might even get a little upset, simply because he doesn’t want to share that part of himself with anyone but you.

However! He doesn’t hold back when it comes to hand holding. This guy loves feeling your touch and being able to physically hold you in a way that tells him you’re safe.

Usually he just wraps his pinky around yours, if he does full on hold your hand it’s almost always accompanied by two squeezes that mean “I love you”.

That’s usually how he tells you he loves you, he’s not super emotionally available, two squeezes is all it takes. On your arm, your leg, hand, even the top of your head on a few occasions.

He did NOT ask you to be his. Absolutely not. You just kinda were one day.

Back at the prison when he and Merle had come back, Merle made a pass at you and Daryl told him to leave “his girl alone”.

You didn’t object, and that’s how it became official.

That’s not to say Daryl can’t be romantic. He definitely can be when he wants to.

He’s constantly leaving you flowers he finds that remind him of you, and sometimes he even scribbles down a note telling you why.

You always have to be comfortable. If it were up to him you’d live on a cloud.

When you two are alone he finds himself mindlessly running his fingers through your hair, it always calms him down.

And yes, he secretly loves it when you do it back.

It’s actually not secret at all.

You two will argue. He’s a gruff guy and you can be stubborn.

He has a hard time apologizing to you, he hates that he even has to. It can take days before you guys are on speaking terms again.

If you’re the one who has to apologize, you’re pretty quick with it once you can tell he’s ready for it. He’s not a super forgiving guy, but when it comes to you, he always hears you out once it’s over and done with.

Contrary to popular belief he won’t ever stop you from doing something you want to do. Even if it is dangerous.

He trusts you more than life itself. And if you think you can do it, he’s going to be your biggest supporter— but that’s not to say he won’t try to go with you.

He is a jealous guy though. He has a hard time believing he deserves you sometimes, so if someone looks at you wrong or gets too close, he’s quick to shut that shit down.

Negative thoughts are usually what causes the most issues between the two of you. He tries to run away from you a lot, and you refuse to let him.

He was never big on writing much of anything until you two got a little more serious. He had all these thoughts and feelings but he was afraid to tell you out loud, so he started writing little bits and pieces and leaving them in your stuff for you to find.

You love how scrawly his handwriting is.

It took you a good few minutes to even be able to read it the first few times, but eventually it came to you like second nature.

Sometimes you leave notes for him too, you know how private he is, so notes are the best way for you to tell him you love him.

He keeps the first note you ever wrote him on his person at all times. Seeing the words “I love you” written down in your handwriting never fails to keep him going, especially when he has to be apart from you.

Daryl Dixon is a bed hog.

Once he got comfortable sleeping with you, he started sprawling out like a starfish.

He refuses to admit it. He actually tried to convince you that you were the bed hog instead.

You learned to love it after a while.

❤️‍🔥.

Sex was not something that came naturally to Daryl. As crazy as he was before the world fell apart, he was never actually sober for any of his flings, one night stands or short term relationships.

He basically learned everything from scratch with you.

He NEVER initiated sex. Maybe he’d touch your arm or grab your thigh in a suggestive way to try and get the ball rolling, but he absolutely refused to do anything if you didn’t catch the hint.

Daryl, is in fact, a boob and thigh man. Regardless of how big or small your breast and thighs are, he can’t stop himself from staring.

When you ride him it’s like his brain turns to mush. He completely forgets how to act.

When you’d suggested it he almost dismissed you, no WAY was he going to enjoy being pinned down like that.

But oh boy did he.

Sometimes, when the two of you were alone, he felt like a teenager again. It kinda pissed him off how wrapped around your finger he actually was. He’d never felt this, undying attraction towards anyone before.

He’s not vocal during sex at all, maybe some grunts here and there— he finds the noises embarrassing.

If you’re making a lot of noise he also gets embarrassed from that.

“Shut the hell up, woman!”

Recently he’s just started putting his hand over your mouth instinctively.

You do in fact make the noises just to have a laugh, you think it’s adorable when he’s embarrassed, and you don’t get to see it very often.

He absolutely loves going down on you, the feeling of your thighs around his head and the sight of your breasts going up and down with each breath you take really gets him going.

Obviously running around during an apocalypse doesn’t exactly leave much room for deodorant and regular showers.

He’s very embarrassed about it— and will NEVER admit it out loud— but he’s really attracted to your natural scent.

So the lack of personal hygiene will never make him stop wanting you. If anything it makes him want you more.

That’s not to say seeing you cleaned up isn’t a turn on though. That first night in Alexandria when you got all cleaned and dressed up borderline has him in his knees.

He’s a gentle lover— unless you ask him not to be.

He’s aware that he’s a pretty strong guy, and he knows his limits. But if you’re into being pounded like no tomorrow— he won’t turn you down.

It might take awhile for him to get used to the idea, but seeing how absolutely crazy you get takes all his concern out of the window.

He does NOT have a daddy kink.

If you have past experiences he wants to hear about them.

Because of how jealous he is, he needs to know how you were treated before so he can make sure he doesn’t better.

His goal in life is to keep you alive— and make sure you never want another man ever again.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #twd #daryl dixon headcanon

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wildemaven · 6 months ago

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first anniversary | dieter x poppy

A Sweet Creature

Ava Greene sits down with actor and friend, Dieter Bravo. Hollywood’s new leading man gets candid about life in front of and behind the camera. He talks about his latest movie, his commitment to his sobriety and his newest role— husband?!

Ava Greene: You're approaching three years sober now, how are you feeling?

Dieter Bravo: Probably the best I’ve felt in a long time. Sobriety is a day to day progression that I take very seriously, and I try to not lose sight of that even when I’m having bad days. Though, I’m grateful bad days have been few and far between at this point in my sobriety. I can attribute that to the support system I have built for myself through friends, family, my sponsor that I still work with and most importantly my wife who keeps me grounded daily. They all continue to keep me in check and remind me how awesome my life is, especially right now. Staying clean is a full time commitment, and it’s really a beautiful thing.

AG: You followed in your famous parents footsteps by going into acting and your career and struggles with sobriety have been well documented but your parents have rarely commented publicly, are they supportive of your work and your journey?

DB: For me, I don’t need them to make a show of it by commenting or sharing their thoughts publicly to know they support me. There was a point in time where they did all they could do for me, but ultimately it had to be my choice to make the decision to get clean. Thankfully, we’ve been rebuilding our relationship over the last few years. And being in the public eye for most of our lives, the last thing we want is for outsiders thinking they have a say in our lives. In short, yes I have very supportive parents in all aspects of my life and I’m so happy for that.

AG: This is your second project since rehab, are you viewing this as a comeback or a fresh start?

DB: Comeback? I didn’t know I left… Kidding! Sure, some might say it’s a comeback. A fresh start. Whatever analogy best fits the narrative is fine by me— and I don’t mean that negatively in any sense. I mean, you’ve known me long enough to know I just try not to focus on any of that stuff, messes with my fucking brain waves. I just see it as me doing what I love with a new perspective and a different approach to choosing what projects I’m going to give my time to than I have in the past.

AG: What can you tell us about this project and the character you're playing?

DB: I had the best f*ckin’ time while shooting this film— sorry, but the emphasis was needed. I was really drawn to the vibrancy that this script evoked, even with the serious nature of the storyline and characters. I couldn’t stop thinking or talking about for weeks afterwards. I’d sit with my wife at breakfast and we’d discuss the script and my character for what felt like hours. I knew after I heard her feedback that I needed to be apart of this film— she might have said I’d be stupid to say no to it, in her own loving way.

The film is really about the process of rediscovering yourself. Navigating the challenges that come along with being at your lowest point and leaning on the ones who have been there for you. It’s about finding love in its purest form when you never thought you were deserving of it.

I found bits of myself in this character as we were filming, it was very much a cathartic experience for me. I guess you could say it was art imitating life in a weird way.

AG: There's already been some buzz about this year's award season, do you think this is finally your year?

DB: Ooooh! Is it too presumptuous for me to say yes?! I’ve started dusting the spot where I plan for it to go. I sound like some sort of pompous idiot! Now no one is going to go see it!*

I take it back!

In all seriousness, ‘cause I’m sure Poppy and my agent will be rolling their eyes when they read this. If all I get is a couple nominations, that alone feels like winning. A shiny statue would be nice though— just saying.

AG: You've talked often about your love of art and you recently purchased a gallery. Are you planning to publicly pursue other creative endeavors?

DB: I won’t be joining American Idol anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking. Oh, you weren’t referring to my ability to hold a note during our many karaoke nights— noted!

How did you put it? Other creative endeavors? I’ve got a few art pieces in the works right now that I’m itching to dive back into when I get home. I’ve got a major gallery in LA lined up later in the year for an artist spotlight exhibit, they’ll be housing some of my work through the next year. Shoutout to my wife for getting that all lined up while I was away shooting this film.

AG: What's next for Dieter Bravo? Any other projects lined up you can tell us about?

DB: I’m looking forward to some downtime I have coming up. Poppy has the summer off, so we’ll get to finally live that newlywed life. Settle into the role of doting husband while she does her thing at the gallery.

AG: Off the record, if you got married and didn't tell anyone I will kick yours and Poppy’s ass!

DB: We’re celebrating our one year this month actually. We eloped quietly last year right after we got engaged— wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while. Which reminds me, you and Bryony should hop on a call with Poppy after this. Seeing as I let the cat out of the bag and this is our announcement— surprise!

Huge shoutout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for allowing me to borrow her Ava from Conversations with a Movie Star for this. Ava was so gracious and even wrote the questions herself. I’m so grateful for Lellen and all her support and advice she had given me throughout the writing process of Sweet Creature!

Sweet Creature Celebration

#dieter bravo #dieter x poppy #sweet creature series #sweet creature celebration #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal

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y-umiko · 2 years ago

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TOKYOREV BOYS IN ONE NIGHT STANDS

CHARACTER(S): Ran . Sanzu . Rindou

WARNING/S: nsfw implications

Ran Haitani

The sun gently woke you up from your sleep, a groan followed up by a migraine, accompanied by the sinful and blissful memories from last night. Never in your sober self had you ever thought you'll hit it off with Ran, one thing led to another and you both ended up making out, later continuing to your room.

but you were not surprised to wake up beside a cold spot in bed, of course, the infamous Ran Haitani wouldn't settle for someone like you. you're just one of his another one-night stand, and you were a fool to believe that there was something between you two. a sigh escape your lips from the thought, that is until the bathroom door opened and out Ran Haitani in nothing but pants, that were hanging low on his lips, his toned stomach in display for you to see.

"you're still here?" you asked surprised, quickly averting your eyes that unconsciously traveled to his exposed skin. something Ran definitely saw but decided to ignore for now after hearing your accusation.

"did you think I left?" he asked amusedly with a playful grin, before picking up his discarded shirt and putting it on effortlessly "I'm hurt that you think so lowly of me"

you rolled your eyes, It's not just me that thinks that everyone does" he chuckled as he easily tied his tie and look for his socks, from his actions, it's easy to understand what he meant, that this between you two was just a one-night stand, it was a hopeful dream that he would settle for you.

you pouted as you gathered the blanket, "Anyways, you were probably on your way out and I just caught you leaving" your words coming out questioning as you went under the blankets to hide your red face, " Well don't let me hold you back"

it was silence at first before the blanket was rudely pulled away from you, just enough to see Ran waiting seating beside you on the bed, a playful grin adorning his lips. "you look so irresistible right now do you know that?" "hey!" you felt heat in your cheeks at Ran's seemingly calm demeanor as if teasing you. but soon drops into something serious as he pecks your lips in assurance.

"I have to leave early for a meeting" he whispered disappointedly, if he were to choose hell spend the rest of his life with you in bed.

"but trust me I'll see you tonight" he sealed with a kiss, deeper and with more emotion.

Sanzu Haruchiyo

Sanzu was a deep sleeper, that or he just didn't care as you rush in the morning gathering your clothes and putting them on, before leaving his room in a complete mess.

you started your morning, as usual, reporting and checking some stuff. the morning was so busy that you almost forgot about the night before, but images from last night kept crawling back into your mind. and when you thought that Sanzu had probably moved on with his day, he came angrily stalking towards you that very afternoon, his eyes swirling almost feral.

"If you think you can just run away and pretend nothing happened, then you're wrong" he blurted out as he rudely interrupted your conversation with one of the members, who immediately read the atmosphere and left. definitely not wanting to face the upset Sanzu. "Sanzu-san I- " "Sanzu?" he interrupted exasperatedly, looking down at you, his eyes full of so much emotion, something you don't see that often "That wasn't my name last night unless you need reminding of then I'll be more than happy to take you h-"

"Ha-Haru!" you immediately corrected, flustered and face flushed from the surge of memories. as you look left and right, making sure no one was around before continuing "Look what happened last night, it was an accident we both don't want, you're not under any obligation, can we just forget about it?"

"I don't want to" was his stern response as you can't help but only stare at him at the sudden seriousness of his words. gasping when he surprisingly gently cupped your chin.

"do you have any idea how long I wanted you?" he said, his breath hitting your lips as he watch your eyes flicker between his lips and eyes. a sign he only needed before pressing his lips against yours. you felt him smirk as you responded to his kiss and before you knew it you felt his arms beneath your legs before picking you up, bridal style.

"Now, that's a good girl"

Rindou Haitani

Amidst the headache and soar body, the first thing you notice when you woke up was the delicious smell of coffee and pancakes. sitting up from the bed, clutching the blanket over your naked body, the fact you're not in your room becomes apparent. it was then that the pleasant memories from the night before come rushing.

The Bonten executives had a gathering last night, and more than usual the guys ordered more drinks than they can handle. all you remember was more than half of them were drunks, the others passed out somewhere. while you and Rin somehow ended up in his room.

grabbing a clean shirt from his closet, you threw it on before making your way to the kitchen. expecting to see some take-out food or maybe Rindou will kick you out of his room right away. but to your bewilderment, there stands Rindo Haitani in his sweatpants and shirt, yet looking good, behind a stove, a spatula in one hand.

"What?" he asked after noticing you standing on the threshold, staring ridiculously at him. but one thing he noticed was how good you look wearing his shirt he quickly averted his gaze away, in fear of you seeing his red face.

"What are you doing?" you asked cautiously, now a little aware that you're basically wearing nothing except his shirt. but considering what happened last night, what's more, to be embarrassed about.

"what does it look like I'm doing?" Rin simply answered as he put the newly cooked pancake on a plate, before setting them down on the table, gesturing you to take a seat.

quietly, you sat in front of the newly cook pancake while Rin sets 2 cups of coffee. you stared at the delicious food in front of you. however, as good as it smells, you can't help but think that this food was his way of consolation before kicking you out.

"who cooks breakfast for their one-night stand" you mumbled sheepily but he heard you anyway.

"No one" He firmly said, as he sets down a cup of coffee beside your plate "Because this is not a one-night stand" your head perks up, "what?"

Rindou looked at you with a furrow on his forehead, his arms crossed against his chest, "you slept with me, you're wearing my shirt- half naked, in the middle of my kitchen"

He sighs," don't play dumb…"

"you're already mine"

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euseokz · 10 months ago

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@ seunghan — you not loving me ? sure. me not loving you ? impossible !! cws : fingering . handjob . mentions of being drunk but no drunk sex . wc : 1.3k+ . genre : smut

LOVER! SEUNGHAN who you’re not dating, but also not not dating.

your relationship was weird. there was never a formal proposal, so technically you weren’t an official couple, but you did go on dates together, and had sweet nicknames for each other, and liked each other way more than normal friends would, so maybe you were just stuck in the middle. sometimes you’d joke that you were lovers, lovers that lacked the intimate aspect you would usually share, but still lovers because you were more than friends.

it was a mess, and if it was up to you things would probably be different, but sometimes reading seunghan’s emotions was hard so you preferred to just let things be and allow them to flow in their own way — or you would have let things be, had you not gotten drunk enough to forget any inhibitions you had.

it wasn’t unusual for you two to spend saturday nights at seunghan’s room, you both sat at the two bean bags by his tv while some movie or tv shows played, some snacks and drinks scattered around you. it was unusual, however, that you’d consume enough alcohol to get drunk. seunghan thought it was comical, you were touchier than normal, having somehow been able to share the space of his bean bag with him even if it was means for only one person, pressing yourself completely up against him, starting to ramble about things you probably wouldn’t mention were you sober — one of them being how much you truly liked him and how you hoped things between you two could be actually serious, that you could be an actual couple instead of just doing some of the stuff couples do, instead of being stuck between dating and being just friends.

your confession caught seunghan off-guard, and at that moment he just laughed it off, moving you to his bed and letting you fall asleep next to him. he did, however, spend a good chunk of the night thinking about what you said. he knew that drunk words were sober thoughts, so there had to be some truth to your confession, it had to somehow emulate what you truly felt but avoided admitting to. seunghan liked you, and it wasn’t that he didn’t show it, but more so that he was so caught up on the idea that the feeling wasn’t mutual that it never occurred to him that you might have liked him back. he felt ashamed over it for some reason, over not having been able to decipher your true feeling up until you (accidentally) admitted to them — so he wanted to make it up to you, by showing you just how much he truly liked you.

as soon as he noticed you starting to wake up, seunghan moved closer to you, his face mere centimeters away from yours before he started pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks, pecking your forehead briefly and even leaving a quick kiss on the tip of your nose. when you opened your eyes, you asked him what he was doing, flashes of last night instantly coming to you when you felt him continue pressing his lips against your skin. seunghan only gave you a brief reply, something about how he was gonna prove to you that he did truly like you too — not that you fully registered any of it, everything that had happened in the past few hours warming your cheeks in embarrassment, leaving you to wonder just exactly what, and how much, had you told seunghan for him to be suddenly acting this way, for him to be so invested in whatever he was doing.

you allowed him to keep going though, humming as you felt him lower his kisses to your neck, pressing them against its side softly, eventually taking off your shirt so he could keep trailing down your body, pecking every inch of skin he could until he had reached the hem of your pajama bottoms.

seunghan’s hands, that had been placed on either side of your waist the entire time, moved to pull at your pants, looking up to you and asking if he could take them off, a sweet but enthusiastic gaze taking over his expression, his eagerness coming through thanks to it. you said a faint yes, helping him in continuing to undress you until you were feeling his lips press against your thighs, that being his last stop as he moved to be between your spread legs, going up again so he was hovering over you, his hands placed by your shoulders, his chest close to yours, and his growing bulge pressing against your clothed heat.

you felt like hours passed by in between seunghan taking off his shirt and starting to properly kiss you. his lips felt even warmer against yours, somehow so much gentler than before. he wanted to be careful with you, to show you how much he cared about you, treating you as if you were made of porcelain, any sudden or harsh movements enough to break you. you could feel him slowly starting to rub his erection against you, his movements slow, barely even noticeable. you placed one hand on seunghan’s chest, the other going down to now pull at the hem of his pajama pants, his desperation seemingly having rubbed off on you. you wanted to touch him, needed to know just how good he could make you feel, if the daydreams you had over it would live up to the real thing — which, thankfully, they did, the second your were both undressed being when seunghan moved onto actually pleasing you, his fingers cold when they started pressing against your swollen clit, pulling a soft moan out of you. his gaze was focused, he wanted to make sure he was making you feel good, that he was touching you the exact way you liked. when he pushed two fingers into you, you let out a low mewl of seunghan’s name, your eyes immediately closing when you felt them delicately press up into the spongy spot that made you see stars. seunghan started thrusting his digits in and out of you slowly, bending them upwards into the right places until you were begging for more, begging for him to keep going because it just felt too good — and obviously, without hesitation, seunghan obliged, going faster, starting to kiss you while trying to bring you to an orgasm, his thumb beginning to draw swift circles over your clit when he felt you bring him closer to you, one of your hands running up the back of his neck, scratching his skin shallowly, while the other one moved over to his dick, grabbing it as best as you could and fisting it lazily, not applying enough pressure to make him cum, but enough to make him also moan into your kiss.

seeing just how impatient you were, seunghan moved even more of his attention towards pleasuring you, breaking the kiss so he could look at how well your pussy took his fingers, desperate to see how pretty it would look swallowing his entire cock, the mere thought of it making his length twitch against your touch.

eventually, you started to feel your orgasm build up, the imaginary knot in your lower stomach tying harder as you whined seunghan’s name, telling him that you were close, begging him to not stop until you were finally cumming, moaning his name shamelessly as your pussy clenched around him, your fingers wrapping around his cock harder and your back arching in pure pleasure. seunghan swore that he would never get tired of seeing you like that, so taken over by bliss all because of him — so he made sure that he could experience it again as soon as possible, helping you ride out your high by still slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of you, already getting ready to properly fuck you.

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cochart · 10 months ago

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Some of my observations about Korean webtoons.

Also some more serious thoughts. Don’t read if you’re super fan of the genre btw.

I knew that this romance fantasy stuff was popular, but seeing the extent of how many webtoons of this genre is being produced and enjoyed kind of baffles me.

Obviously, romance has been a huge genre always, and a lot of shoujo manga classics are also romance/historical romance. So romance being popular is nothing new.

But I think Korean “romance fantasy” genre is different in that it’s much more “blatant” about the fantasy underlying the romance genre. It’s so “girl gets hot rich guy” without any fluff. You can argue that K-drama has the same trope, but at least in most K-dramas, the female protagonist isn’t usually harping about how she’s “trying to stay under the radar.”

That’s also what catches my eye. Usually, in romance fantasy webtoon, the female protagonist who’s a modern-girl-in-fantasy character, is supposed to be a supporting character or a villain. So she makes a huge emphasis during the initial episodes about how she just wants a peaceful life which we know is not going to happen. The whole “I’m not trying or doing anything, but (rich and handsome) guys keep getting attracted to me and giving me buncha stuff” is so blatant that sometimes it’s embarrassing. I guess this also does happen in some K-dramas but it’s more spelled out in romance fantasy webtoons.

To be fair, this is kind of an escapist genre, so I can’t be too harsh on them. Still, it sometimes creeps me out to think about how many young girls enjoy stories about modern girls dropping into a premodern fantasy world… so they can get married? Because that’s basically the only thing that happens in these stories. The female protagonist gets married to the male protagonist and has children—usually one smart girl who looks like the father and one sweet boy who looks like the mother. Usually, the story pretends that the female protagonist is more than just a wife by giving her a small business or explaining that she does the bulk of managing the land. But it’s almost always only the male protagonist who has the title and an official position. Sometimes, these webtoons almost feel like some Korean version of tradwife fantasy.

Everyone has some sort of guilty pleasures they enjoy, and I don’t want to shame anyone for whatever weird stuff they like looking at. I, for one, enjoy watching crappy horror flicks like Big Ass Spider! (2013). But to think that young girls and women enjoy stories about going to the fantasy land to get married and have kids is kind of sobering in an age where companies in Korea fire illustrators for retweeting a tweet supporting a women’s rights protest (true story lol).

By the way, I know not all romance fantasy webtoons are tradwife fantasies, but I think you’d be in denial if you say that a significant portion of them are not.

*It’s almost insulting when you think about how in isekai fantasy involving men—whether it’s webtoon, anime, light novels, or manga—the protagonists usually end up becoming a hero or some kind of powerful figure. Of course, they also “get the girl” if there is one. So when guys go to isekai, they become heroes but when girls go to isekai, they become wives? If that isn’t sad, I don’t know what is.

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ju1ian · 1 year ago

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Actually I guess I should just be happy that people like something that I wrote. I do want to do more serious works in the future but for now I'm just glad people appreciate my stuff.

I want to write the saddest story known to man and they only want the horny demon and the prostitute 😞

#i do still feel slightly discouraged that my more serious (sober) works are overlooked in favor of my silly (drinking while writing) works #but i think that just speaks to what people want to read #they don't want to read sad stuff they want to be happy #but im a sadist and its difficult for me to keep producing happy chapters

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floatsonabigballoon28 · 1 month ago

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So I finally read Looking Forward by Maya Henry

And... Here are my thoughts

1) Liam's record company/ the people he surrounds himself with are real villians. Not only do they lie a bunch and keep Liam under heavy surveillance (even his therapist gives "assessment reports" to his manager), they also expect Maya to basically be his manager? Assistant? babysitter? mommy? For free. And all f time.

2) She had to get out. And the switch in his behaviour on drugs must've been sofucking hard..i mean The first half of the book had me wishing Liam was my boyfriend and he's always been my least favourite member of the band. The abortion was horrific. Truly horrific. And the axe night was the stuff of nightmares. I'm glad she got out. And she has the right to talk about it. Period

3) Liam needs help. Serious Help. He needs to get out of whatever bullshit music contract he is tied up in (if any) and focus on sobriety and therapy? Which includes having *sober* people he can rely and trust around him. Probably not the boys tho maybe someone like Chappel Roan? Or Beiber? Lol idk.

4) It's not hard or a stretch to believe his behaviour in the book - the narcissism, anger and almost split personality - based on his own admissions in public appearances. (Diary of aCeo podcast, Logan Paul Podcast, Random other viewings)

5) This book could've been heavily edited. Although the illustrations are working!

6) The sexts with fans are disgusting

#one direction #liam drama #liam payne #ot5 #maya henry #moving forward

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snorky · 5 months ago

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trent frederic x f!reader? your writing is so so good

Break Up With Your Crappy Boyfriend

Hey y’all, and hi hi to the lovely requester! Thank you so much for the compliment, it means everything and beyond to me :') and I hope this lives up to your expectations. This is a Trent Frederic comfort-sorta fic, platonic for now, but it’s just something I scrapped up real quick since I’ve been overwhelmed with finals and exams, so I am really sorry if this isn’t the quality y’all are looking for. There may be a second part that will be sweeter and lighter than this piece, but I am not too sure yet, so let me know if you want one :) I hope you enjoy the fic, and remember to take care of yourself!

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Trent Frederic x F!Reader

Warnings: Bad Relationships (not with Trent), Angst, (let me know if I need to add anything)

—

“Break up with your crappy boyfriend.”

“What?”

She looked at him with a bewildered expression, the ice cold drink in her hands amplifying her emotions. It was a homemade strawberry daiquiri, tart and bitter, a sweet distraction.

He nodded at her like it was the most obvious thing ever, but his eyes had a glint of gentle concern, leaning against the kitchen counter during a cookout-get-together with the team.

The kitchen was an unspoken safe haven between the both of them, somewhere they would often start discussing serious, in-person matters, ever since their teenage years where secrecy became common. It was unconventional, but it was the most non-obvious place to discuss something.

Trent and her had known each other for ages, childhood friends grown into familiar companions, reading one another like a book known by heart, passages and prayers etched into their tongues.

“You look exhausted, and whenever he’s brought up, you shift the topic.” The way he talked with his hands emphasized how truly sober he was, which was not.

Trent got much more chatty with alcohol in his system, friendlier, but he seemed to be much more blunt, more raw.

She looked at him with a slightly offended expression, but allowed him to continue his little rant. He had good judgment, knowing what was right and best for her, evident in the past when he could tell that a first date for her with someone would be the last.

He held a genuineness that was purely caring, but at the moment, her mind couldn’t seem to think straight, and she wanted to truly be in an unbiased stance. “Trent, I appreciate your support, and we can talk about this tomorrow when you’re sobered up, but right now, let’s set the topic aside—”

“Does he check on you often?” He looked at her, searching for an answer on her face, eyes dark.

Her eyes shifted nervously as she moved towards the sink, avoiding eye contact with him, and attempting to busy herself with the dishes. “He’s been busy ‘n stuff—”

“And what sad excuse of a ‘man’ doesn’t make time for their darling?” He emphasized the bit with air quotes, causing her to let out a small soft chuckle. “Am I wrong?” The smug look he had on his face was flushed, most likely from his drink.

She shook her head, letting out a sigh. Putting the dishes away, she wiped her hand on the rag that hung on the oven handle. “I mean, you’re not right either, Freddy—”

“I’m more right than you.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right!” Jake quipped as he walked by in the kitchen, grabbing a snack or two.

Both of them were startled by his sudden presence, unsure of how long he had been listening. He had a tendency to be very quiet, slipping around cracks and corners easily.

She shrugged with a tight-lipped smile, agreeing with Jake. “He has a point though,”

He set his drink down on the counter, looking up at her with a more serious look. “Okay, but, what kind of guy forgets their anniversary?”

His words seemed to hang in the air dully, the answer known but not spoken between the both of them. It was set uncomfortably in the atmosphere, and yet the party and conversations around them didn’t seem to diminish it.

The night shifted, with people having gone inside and settled down, yet still lively, happy. Lights throughout the house were dimmed, the atmosphere more calm and peaceful, and yet, she still couldn’t figure out how to ease her tension.

Fumbling with her phone in her hands, she scrolled through the messages that went unread by him, delivered and unseen. She bit the inside of her cheeks out of habit, nervous and unsteady.

Her worth wasn’t determined by his responses, or lack of, but it felt as if he didn’t care anymore, taking things for granted. She could feel so much, and yet nothing at all, seemingly mourning a relationship that was once there.

As she got up from the couch, she put her phone back into her pocket. “I’m going to go for a walk,” she said quietly to Katrina, who was sitting next to Brad as well. She simply nodded and shared some quick words of reassurance before they parted, and she gave her a soft smile in return.

Opening the back porch door, the cool air greeted her, filling her nose and lungs. It felt cold, something she was much too familiar with, and yet, she basked in it. The gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she walked down the secluded path, leading into the woods.

It wasn’t a dumb decision, she tried to justify. She knew the path well to her spot, and it was only hers. It gave her a feeling of control knowing that it was a place that she could come and go to, different from the warm kitchen ambience. It was rough, gritty, cold. Familiar, familiar, familiar.

The tears threatening to prick her eyes were also familiar, too familiar. Settling down against a boulder, she looked at the small pond that seemed to glimmer under the moonlight and stars, still and unmoving.

Her breaths became more ragged, harsh, and she knew it was best for her if she just let it out in the solitude that she was in.

And yet, the tears never came despite the looming threats and signs she was familiar with. She couldn’t bring herself to cry, or even shed a tear. It made her feel uncomfortable, a bad taste in her mouth. The sadness that never fully came, could never be justifiable. Her breath felt tight, and she couldn’t seem to get a full inhale.

Her dreariness was quickly replaced when she heard the bush rustling, the sound of leaves crunching and sticks snapping.

“Crap.”

The familiar voice of Trent made her let out a sigh of relief, but then shifted into confusion and concern.

“Wait, how did you find me?” She called out.

He came out of the shrubs, a gentle smile plastered in his face as he sat down beside her, slumping against the large rock. “You think I wouldn’t know your spot?”

She slowly nodded, confusion still laced in her expression.

Adjusting the hat on his head, he fixed his hair slightly before putting it back on. “You also think that they wouldn’t send someone out on multiple occasions when you vanish, just to make sure that you didn’t get kidnapped?” He looked at her, lightheartedly trying to get a response.

Realization and guilt sunk inside of her, eyes drifting towards her shoes. “Sorry,”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad,” he said quietly, calmly.

Tears started to stream down her face as she broke down, the last bit of his sentence sending her off the edge. The weight she didn’t know that was piled on her shoulders lessened, forgiven, acknowledged, taken care of. Everything she could’ve begged for, and he did it simply, little to no words or complaint.

She attempted to wipe away her tears, but was quickly stopped by Trent as he engulfed her in a hug. It was sudden, everything seemingly moving too fast, but she welcomed it, leaning into him as she tried to calm down.

“You’re okay, you’ll be okay.”

It became quiet between the both of them, her breaths steadying as the minutes passed. He murmured comforting words every now and then, hand placed on her upper back as his thumb moved in lazy patterns.

She melted into him, her fist grasping onto his hoodie, too exhausted to try and force herself away, his touch the only thing grounding her.

After a few more minutes of silence, he picked her up with ease, and started making his way back to the house. “I’m going to bring you back inside, and don’t worry about everyone else,” he said. “Everyone has already headed home, and you need to get some rest.”

Simply nodding, she allowed herself to relax and try not to put up a fight, limbs worn out and tired. The drink most likely clouded her judgment, but she trusted Trent, never afraid.

As they both made it inside, the home welcomed them with warmth, scented candles lit and placed on the kitchen counter that was already all cleaned up. Everything was neatly put away, and there wasn’t a single piece of trash that she could spot.

She looked up at him, grateful, but still feeling guilty that he had to clean everything. “Did you—”

“Just for you, take it easy, please.”

Making his way into her bedroom, he placed her down on the bed, being careful with his movements to not shake her too much, and tucked her in, pulling the covers over her shoulder.

“I’ll leave a glass of water for you on the nightstand for you to drink, let me know if you need anything.” Walking away from her bed and to the doorway, he turned back once more to look at her again. “I’ll also be sleeping on the couch if that is alright with you, wanna make sure that you’re okay by morning,”

She hummed in response before drifting off to sleep, eyelids heavy and muscles tired, while Trent slipped away into the living room, extinguishing all the candles before falling asleep on the couch shortly after.

#nhl #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl writing #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #boston bruins #nhl bruins #trent frederic #trent frederic fic #trent frederic x reader #trent frederic imagine

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sassenashsworld · 2 months ago

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FALLOUT 4 HEADCANONS

It is quite HeadCanon for me that Danse is able to make imitations, that he does them, and that he is even good at it. Well, maybe it’s because Peter Jessop has this talent and the day I heard him imitate his children, he made me laugh so much it's have stick. But, at least, that’s the same effect when Danse decides to make an imitation, like when he makes fun of Nora. And it’s so surprising from such a man, so serious, so… strict? (to be polite) When he decides to make an imitation to mock someone, no one can resist, everyone laughs. Especially when he imitates so well the tone of Nora despite his own excessively masculine voice.

It is totally HeadCanon that MacCready loves to experiment with all the ideas that come into his head, even if it’s completely absurd and anyone could say that it doesn’t make sense. Listen, this poor guy grew up in a cave with a bunch of kids, and the only way they could learn was to test. Everything! No basic knowledge! No school! No older, more experienced, wiser person to give them at least a few advices. "Is this mushroom good to eat?" Oh, he wasn’t, the guy died… But it also explains how MacCready came up with the idea of using a Mutfruit for…. something… intimate. I mean… WHO WOULD USE SUCH A FRUIT IN THIS WAY??? Well, he wondered about it, tried it, and it wasn’t so bad…

It is so HeadCanon that HANCOCK is the one who most encourage the strange ideas of things to test that MacCready can have. The ghoul is having a blast with the young! I mean, John Hancock, his story, his background, everything is so sad and horrible that the guy isn’t even able to be alone and sober with himself. He must get a little bit of fun, right? And he does. Asking MacCready some ridiculous questions. And of course, MacCready will try to see if it can… You see where I get?

It’s really HeadCanon that Deacon discovered the crazy fun Hancock takes in having some ridiculous stuff tested by MacCready. And that at first, he used this information as leverage to get some favors from Hancock. But Hancock only played the game for a while, talking out Deacon to keep extorting him, and convinced him to fuck it up with Mac. And it became a drug for Deacon. Whenever he is in Goodneighbor, he does NOT miss to visit MacCready and offer him an idea… ideally the most twisted possible. And Deacon has such an interesting way of presenting the thing that MacCready can never resist it and always ends up falling into the trap. He should have understood, by now, but his learning method is so dangerous and random, and Deacon looks so sincerely sorry when it fails, that Mac never had suspects anything…

We can never convince me that it is not HeadCanon, limit Canon, that Nick loves to read. He likes nothing more than sitting quietly at his desk late in the evening, reading through the remnants of pages that he may have found while investigating on a case or another. He spends a lot of time, when he walks by Goodneighbor, discussing with Daisy the new novel he has got his hands on. And don't be fool, the old detective, even if obviously he loves noir novels, doesn't stick only to that. He likes to read EVERYTHING. Poetry, soap opera, religious book, scientific articles. Whatever he puts his hand on, he reads it. Sosu often thinks that if they could get their hands on his core memory, there would be treasures of knowledge. Instead, they sit next to him at the end of the evening and Nick reads out loud for hours for them.

#fallout 4 #fallout #nick valentine #fo4 #hancock #deacon #danse #maccready #headcanon #my headcanons #headcannons #john hancock #john hancock fallout 4 #fallout maccready #rj maccready #robert joseph maccready #paladin danse

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bridgetotheskyyy · 1 year ago

Text

chapter three.

masterlist

Chapter summary: You and the Sand Siblings go on vacation and, in the process, you and Gaara grow closer . . .

Chapter warnings: violence near the end, mentions of gambling lol, sexual tension, angst

Word count: 12k

A/N: (I encourage everyone to read the notes of this chapter from my ao3 as they're quite extensive lol)

Read on ao3 here

The paper stack damn near reached the ceiling.

You stared at it. “Wow.”

“Yep.” Kankuro approached the chair, slouched into it. “This is what it looks like when a war ends and you put off all the serious stuff.”

The paperwork pile was hardly the most eye-catching thing in the office; Kankuro had brought Crow, Kuroari, and another puppet, whose name you hadn’t learned, into the room. They slumped against potted plants, readied for polishing or tweaking the moment their daddy required a break from the workload.

Still, your eyes returned to the pile and wondered how many of the sheets referred to the Kazekage’s imminent marriage. How many mentioned you by name?

Your brow quirked. “What kind of serious stuff?”

“Boring stuff.” Kankuro yawned as he swiveled in the Kazekage’s chair. “Only thing that makes it bearable is knowing I won’t have to see any of this stuff for the next few days.” He shot his fists into the air. “The beach!”

“The beach!” You echoed. A thought occurred. “Have you ever been to one?”

“No.” Kankuro chuckled, kicking feet up on the desk, arms behind his back. “I’m like you; desert child through and through. Never even seen one. Can’t wait.”

“But you’re a shinobi!” You said. “I bet you’ve been all around.”

“I have,” Kankuro said. “But, I don’t know, it just never happened.” He looked out the window, where the day was uncharacteristically clear. A smile tugged on his lips for reasons eluding you. “When you’re a shinobi, you get to go to lots of exotic locales, but there’s not a lot of time for sightseeing.”

Your gaze climbed the bodies of the puppets with awe. “Such amazing powers you all have.”

“Don’t be so quick to envy us,” Kankuro said. “It’s not a very glamorous life; you’re usually fighting for your life or trying to take somebody else’s.”

“At least you get to determine your life.” You barely heard yourself in your reverie. “Or, if you don’t like it, fight to get out of it.”

“Yeah?” The Kazekage’s chair creaked; Kankuro must have leaned forward in it. “And what are you fighting to get out of, (Y/n)?”

You sobered, turning your head to see Kankuro staring. “Hm? Oh — Sorry, I was just …”

“(Y/n).” Kankuro was serious now. “Temari wasn’t too hard on you the other day, was she? Look, I know she can be scary — uh, most of the time — but, when you get to know her, she’s —”

“What? No! I—” You swallowed, surprised by yourself. What was wrong with you? You couldn’t black out like that! “I don’t — know where my head went just now!”

For seconds more, he was quiet, only watching you inquisitively. You felt spotlighted.

The hand of the analog clock at the wall caught your eye. Nearly noon.

“I better go get Gaara.” You headed to the door.

“You’re sure you’re all right?” Kankuro asked from behind.

“Yes, definitely,” You hastened, only to halt your hand at the knob. “Oh, by the way, how exactly are we getting to the beach?”

Another smile tugged at Kankuro’s lips as he pulled a cloth forth from the desk drawer, likely for polishing. “Oh, that’s a surprise.”

You continued self-flagellating as you traipsed through the halls of the Kazekage’s palace, attempting to find a way out of its maze.

What was wrong with you? Like being a shinobi would give you more power over your life, access to your fate. Hideo was a shinobi. Did he control his fate?

Did anyone?

You were controlling your fate now — rebelling against your father, choosing Gaara and his siblings. You had grabbed the rope of fate.

You only hoped it didn’t slip from your grasp, burn your hand in the free fall.

You caught eyes with someone as they rounded the corner opposite you. Someone familiar … Rough lines creasing his aged face, Suna council garb —

“Elder Joseki,” You greeted.

Joseki’s eyes widened imperceptibly upon recognizing you. “Lady (Y/n),” he drawled. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay in the Sand.”

“Yes,” You replied coolly. “It’s been most pleasant. Thank you.”

Joseki studied you with a demeaning glare, the same one he had fixed you with at the party a century ago. You couldn’t tell if it was you he was displeased with or the world.

“And,” he began, “I’m guessing Lord Kazekage hasn’t told you anything of … importance?”

“He’s told me enough.”

“Has he?”

You matched his cold stare with your own. “Your dislike of the Kazekage seems personal.”

Joseki advanced. “He’s more dangerous than you know, my lady. More dangerous than you can conceive. Do not buy into his act; the villagers are still deeply afraid of him, they only pretend to love him.” He clenched his fist. “Seas could not contain the amount of blood that boy has shed.”

You hardened yourself to his speech. “Personal, and most unpatriotic.”

“I only hope you will reconsider,” Joseki urged. “Return to your village before it is too late, and you are trapped here with more enemies than friends.”

“If you insist on riddles, I’m leaving.” You hurried past him.

“Going where?”

You stared crookedly at him. What right did he have to be so forward? So familiar? You had no reason to answer, but a desire to bite back at him corrupted you. “If you must know, the Kazekage and his siblings are taking me on a trip.”

Joseki’s eyes went wide, his skin paling. “You — You can’t be left alone with him!”

“You have stepped out of bounds, Elder.” Your voice was harsh. “We have nothing further to say to one another.”

“Lady (Y/n), wait —!”

But you were already on your way, blocking Joseki from your mind.

You were so sick of paranoid old men.

He’s just like father … a pathetic old man, all of them.

You found Gaara asleep at his desk in the greenhouse, surrounded by the small cacti he fathered and loved so much.

You tiptoed forward to see his face, plastered, along with his arms, against his desk. You had never seen him so vulnerable. Gaara’s eyelids, rimmed with coal-black, were closed, and his lips parted to exhale gentle breaths expanding his chest.

So cute.

And intimate.

Just days ago, you had sat in the same chair and told Gaara about your brother’s death. You squirmed with the memory. You refused to think of Father’s letter, the allegations that Gaara had been the one to …

Gaara stirred in his sleep. You hated to wake him — and considered against it. You leaned forward —

Something caught your eye. You turned your head. Behind a series of tall plants, something large loomed in the shadows. Something made of sand.

You tiptoed away from Gaara, synchronizing your steps with his gentle snores. Brushing banana leaves aside, you saw:

It was a sand-made statue of a woman. Short-haired and kind-eyed, along with the prettiest hands you had ever seen. It was only a second or two before you realized who she must be.

Karura.

You made your way back to Gaara and leaned over his shoulder. With a loving begrudge, you began to rouse him.

“Gaara …!” You gently nudged his shoulder. “Gaara!”

His eyes cracked — flew open.

He shot up. You were face to face. Your lips almost touching —

“Eep!” You jumped away as his face turned red. “I’m sorry!”

“No …” Gaara looked around as though surprised by himself. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Can’t tell you how much I didn’t want to wake you.”

He smiled. “I catch up on sleep now whenever I can; I guess I sleep deeper than I thought.”

“That’s a good thing,” You assured him. He works so hard as the Kazekage that Kankuro taking over gives him time to breathe.

Gaara’s eyes roved over you, an arm roped over the chair. “You look nice.”

You admired yourself; you had been more casual in your dress since Temari had taken you shopping. A white shirt, underneath which was some fishnet you had become smitten with and borrowed from Temari’s closet (she said if you wore it some might mistake you for being a shinobi, which only made you want to wear it more) and simple black pants were what you choose to go with today.

“Thank you.” You hung your head bashfully — only to be reminded of the statue and redirected your gaze toward it.

Gaara followed your attention. He stiffened. “You saw it …”

You met his eye and shared the vulnerability swimming there. “I … hope you’re not mad; I wasn’t trying to snoop, I … It’s very pretty.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s of her, isn’t it?” You said. “Your mother.”

Karura. The modest woman with the pretty name. You had only seen small portraits of her here and there, tiny mementos her children clung to in their efforts to never forget her.

“Yes,” Gaara said, rising from his chair to approach the statue. “I was inspired last night. I’m never really satisfied with the work I do.”

“Don’t say that.” You followed him, feet instinctively carrying you wherever he went. “She would have loved it.”

Gaara’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your assessment. He faced you as the two of you stood side-by-side, admiring the sand stature. “Do you think so?”

You turned to give him a smile. “I know so,” You affirmed.

Of course she loved him; who wouldn’t?

And you don’t know if you did it on purpose or not, but your index finger came to brush against Gaara’s. You were thrown by the fire the slightest touch erupted in your belly. You looked down to spot your finger’s treachery. Gaara seemed neither to care nor mind.

Your heart cartwheeled when he took your hand in his hold, the skin of his palm warm and secure against your own.

You remembered how it felt to be cradled in his lap seconds before you had leaped away, his hands on your shoulders … Something purred inside you, compelling you to lean into the hand hold.

You cleared your throat and broke away without knowing why. “You don’t talk about your father much, I notice.”

A shadow came over Gaara’s face. “The relationship the Fourth Kazekage and I had was … difficult.”

“You’re speaking to the choir with that one.” You giggled. You wiggled the hand Gaara once held in hopes of eradicating the tingle there. “I won’t pry.”

“No,” he said. “It’s all right. I was his … experiment.”

Cold water ran over you. You paused.

Experiment. It was the same word Joseki had used. How odd …

A bitter laugh from you. “I think we’re all experiments of our parents.”

Gaara relaxed, seeming to be grateful for the out you’d given him.

“Lord Kazekage,” a new voice entered the greenhouse, and the two of you turned to see a servant. “Lady Temari told me to fetch you. The party is ready.”

“Ooh.” You turned to Gaara with a conspiratorial smile. “And it begins.”

Luggages were hauled into carriages while Sand and Oasis ninja gathered to accompany the four of you on your vacation. Staring at the carriages ready for departure by the gates of Sunagakure gave you a strange sense of deja vu.

“I’m not looking forward to getting back into those things,” You said to Gaara.

He didn’t answer you.

A strange puppet you hadn’t recognized from Kankuro’s collection lay hunched by the side of the carriage. Temari came through the gap between carts, wielding a metal bar you couldn’t identify. She was followed by Kankuro and Baki.

“I hope the two of you have considered what I said,” Baki said.

“Oh, believe us, we have,” Kankuro said, and he and his sisters tapered into giggles.

Baki sighed before catching sight of you. His demeanor transformed; the fatherly air had returned. “Lady (Y/n)!” He said warmly.

You returned his smile. “Hello, Baki.”

Baki turned to the carriages. “We took the luxury of packing your things for you. I hope you don’t mind. None of your things were extraneously handled, and I made sure your privacy was secured.”

“Oh, I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble,” You said. “I don’t need much!”

One of the carriage doors was left ajar; you spotted the luggage you had come with.

“None at all,” Baki said. He gave a warning look toward Temari and Kankuro, who only bowed their heads. “I hope you all enjoy yourselves.”

You sighed, the reality of another carriage ride looming ever nearer. Let’s just get this part over with.

You made to hop into the carriage —

Someone caught your hand. You looked to your side and Gaara was there.

“What’s wrong?” You let Gaara lead you away from the carriage by hand.

“Oh,” Kankuro pointed to the carriage, “that won’t be your ride.” He shut the carriage door and turned to the ninja. “Start moving! We’ll catch up!”

The ninja scurried away while the carriage jerked to life. It rode down toward the village gates.

You looked toward Gaara with a nervous laugh. “What’s going on?”

Gaara simply smiled and swept his hand —

And enveloped you in a small sandstorm as tides of sand whipped past you. The wind pulled at your hair and toward Gaara. A giant platform solidified at his feet. He nudged you gently toward him and the two of you bumped hips as the platform began to float.

Float.

Your scream crescendoed as the platform carried the two of you into a cloudless sky. The vertigo had you gripping Gaara’s shoulder as the entire village sprawled beneath you. Its spidered streets and huge, domed buildings grew smaller as Gaara directed the two of you away from the village.

“I thought this would be a fun way to travel,” Gaara said, before looking down at you clutching his arm to add, “but, if you don’t like it —“

“Are you kidding?” You screeched. “Go faster! Faster!”

Temari and Kankuro were at a lower altitude, carrying themselves over the Suna gates by their own machinations; Temari’s metal blade was actually a fan she used to glide over the gate, while Kankuro’s puppet was somehow attached to his back, propelling him through the air with giant batlike wings.

“As you wish,” Gaara murmured, and sped up.

You could do nothing but gawk. The desert spilled out past the gates like a giant ocean; rolling dunes towering like waves, seeking to outdo one another as their hills stretched out over undisturbed cerulean. You detected the ninja and carriage below, but barely, having been reduced to mere ants from the altitude.

“This is amazing …” You breathed out.

“Come.” Gaara lowered himself on the platform to sit criss-cross. “Sit.”

You clutched onto him hard as he aided you. You let your legs lay out on your side. You traded his arm for his neck — hesitated, until Gaara allowed your touch, and you wrapped arms around him.

“I would never let you fall.” Gaara bowed his head forward with an assuring stare. “You know that?”

You nodded. A calm smile graced his lips, perfect on his face. His hand rested gingerly on your waist, sending your heart into a back-flip. Wind ruffled his crimson hair, bits of sand carrying into the air. And in that moment you believed Gaara had never lied once in his life.

Your hold on him mercified. “I believe you,” you whispered.

I was right. Amazing powers. You looked back to see Temari, the wind rippling her ponytails, laughing in the air. She watched Kankuro do flips and dips in the sky, folding and reopening his puppet’s wings. Squeak. The cork of Gaara’s gourd loosened to free yet more sand, and in midair the strips of sand morphed to become butterflies.

They were all gods to you.

One butterfly landed on your cheek, kissed your face, and you giggled. “How is this possible?” You asked.

Gaara’s ease lessened. “I was … born with special gifts. Because of a spirit.”

You glanced at him — only to do a double-take. Your eyes widened.

Wait.

Were they really gods?

“The spirit is gone, but very little of my power has dwindled,” Gaara added.

You leaned into Gaara’s side, allowing this new information to sink in. You were curious, so curious, and for once your father’s intentions did nothing to pervert that curiosity; you were enthralled.

You tilted your head. “What kind of —“

But then you realized; you were close again, so close, even closer than when you were in his lap nights ago. Your arms fastened around his neck, his hand holding your waist. There was no startling need to get away this time, only a growing need to dispel the remaining inches.

Gaara stared at you from the corner of his eye, smiling. No blush, no fluster.

The sun shone in your eyes. You cupped a hand over your forehead to visor them.

“The sun looks amazing on you …”

You were not prepared for the husk in Gaara’s voice. Heat colored your cheeks. You raised your head to him. Your heartbeat quickened in your throat as your eyes got lost in the turquoise of his. That sweet, serene green —

A gust of wind blew past Gaara’s face to ruin the moment.

You gasped, spun your head. “Not funny!” You yelled.

Kankuro and Temari only laughed and flew ahead of the two of you.

It was a full three hours of flight before a town, nestled into a cliff, came into view.

It was hard, after the fanfare of the last three hours, to both literally and metaphorically come down to earth. The moment Gaara had you on the ground, and the four of you huddled at the town’s gates, you playfully socked Kankuro’s arm.

“O — ow!” Kankuro chuckled, rubbing his arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was gonna do that?” You play-hissed in his ear.

“It was my idea, actually,” Temari said smugly.

Your hand flew to your chest to feign shock. “Female solidarity is dead!”

“Let’s hurry to the hotel,” Gaara said. “While it’s still nice out.”

The four of you ushered into town, as incognito as possible to avoid causing a stir. You wove your way through the streets when wet hit your nose. Salt graced your tongue when your lips parted.

The sea.

Excitement added élan to your steps. You barely maintained the proper pleasantries as you entered the hotel lobby. The group revealed identities and startled the receptionist — along with the rest of the staff, one of them prompted to fetch the hotel owner.

“Lord Kazekage!” He bowed furiously, sweating just as much. “And his lovely siblings! Oh, oh, this is such a surprise! What an honor!”

“Sir,” one of the staff whispered in his ear, “I’ve seen her. She’s Lord Boutoku’s daughter, she’s marrying the Kazekage next month —”

“LORD BOUTOKU’S DAUGHTER —?!”

Kankuro slapped a hand over the owner’s mouth as people in the lobby looked away from their newspapers and fine breakfasts to mind the commotion. “Mind keeping it quiet! Someone might overhear!”

The owner fished a handkerchief from his pocket to dab himself. “Yes, of course …! My apologies, Lord Kankuro …!”

“Look,” Kankuro’s eyes flickered every which way as he leaned in conspiratorially, “we’re here on a little weekend vacation, all right? We’d appreciate it if you helped us lay low.”

“Oh, oh.” You were sure the owner would go into shock. “Of course, certainly, oh, whatever you need, we’d be more than happy to provide!”

“Thank you, sir.” Temari was all charm and smiles as she slid a mysterious gold card to the receptionist behind the desk. “If you could just set us up with rooms now.”

“Of course, of course!” the owner said. “Only the finest for the Kazekage and his family!”

And he hadn’t lied; the rooms were enormous. It occurred to you just how little Gaara had to actually do as the Kazekage; only a few minutes had passed and already he had been secured the most luxurious room due to his title. It was decided: You and Gaara would share while Temari and Kankuro would have their own separate quarters. Gaara’s, of course, was the largest. He grew concerned on your behalf and asked if you wanted a room of your own, but, as there were two beds in the suite, you didn’t mind. And anyway, Gaara was the most trustworthy man in the history of men.

“And besides.” You held back giggles as Temari and Kankuro collapsed on plushy couch cushions. “Your room has the best accommodations anyway — we’ll all just end up congregating in here anyway.”

“If you’re sure about it.” Gaara let himself smile as he examined the room. “We really must thank the owner for his hospitality. They are nice rooms.”

“A big tip!” Kankuro said, sinking into the cushions with pleased sighs. “The biggest!”

“I’m so sick of buildings,” You said, nearly bouncing up and down. “I want the beach!”

“We might as well,” Gaara said. “I would hate to make you wait any longer.”

You gulped, imagining that phrase in a different context. What’s wrong with you lately? Too much Icha Icha!

The four of you retrieved the beach appropriate clothing and items from your bags and left the hotel. It didn’t help that the hotel had such lovely views of the beach — the bluest water you had ever witnessed. So close.

It was a five-minute walk until the beach, its plush sands transitioned from orange-beige to white, came into sight.

“Whoa,” Kankuro said.

The waves curled and laid on the shore. Your eyes widened.

You ripped your shoes off and ripped past people cluttering the beach. You were through with your inhibitions. You expected to hear someone call for you to come back, only to glance over your shoulder and see Temari and Kankuro following you into the water. You let out a delighted scream as you plunged headfirst into the toiling waves.

Only then did you remember you didn’t know how to swim.

“Okay,” Kankuro motioned what was called a backstroke, “just lean your arm out like this —“

“No!” You squealed. “I’ll drown!”

“Don’t be silly!” Temari said. Temari, who had decided she was already tired of the water, opted instead for a beach chair, sunglasses, and a smoothie underneath a shading umbrella. “You’ve got three of the strongest shinobi in the world watching over you. No one would let you drown — especially Gaara.”

Gaara, against all odds, could swim himself. He shadowed you in the water, holding his arm out to you.

You pouted. “I thought neither of you had ever been to the beach.”

“Well, we know how to swim,” Kankuro said. “We’re shinobi, remember? Trained for every occasion.”

“I can continue helping her,” Gaara said as Kankuro made to help you. Something unknown passed between them, and Kankuro backed off.

“I’m, uh, headed back to shore.” Kankuro performed his so-called backstroke. “Take care, you two!”

You waved him goodbye.

“You’re doing well,” Gaara said. “Do you like the beach?”

“I love it!” You cried. “I can’t wait to catch starfish and, oh!” — You let go of Gaara — “shells —!”

“(Y/n!) —!”

Without his arm, you went under. Your cries transmuted to bubbles as you flailed. A wave brushed you aside, jolting you into panic. You flailed harder. Hands grabbed you and pulled you to the surface.

“Are you all right?” Gaara’s voice was muffled by the water in your ears.

You looked over your shoulder to see Gaara holding you. Wild crimson locks clung to his face. Shirtless.

“I—” You spit saltwater out before answering, blinked water from your eyes. “Yes.”

Your skills improved as Gaara taught you the basics, and soon you could bob your head over the water without support. Pleased with this progress, you decided on a break. You two emerged on land to admire the view.

“Finally,” Temari said. “Thought you two would be at sea forever.”

“It’s really nice, Temari.” You pat your hair dry. “Sure you don’t wanna join?”

“I realized I prefer the view.” Temari took another sip of her drink — only to suck at the bottom of her cup. “I’m gonna get another.”

“I’ll come with,” Kankuro said. “I’m starving.”

You and Gaara were left alone on the beach now. You looked back at the waves. They coiled, crested, and collapsed to bask on the white sand with rhythmic harmony, as though dancing to a tune you were too ignorant to hear. You sighed.

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” You said.

“Yes,” Gaara said. “It is …”

“But how can there be a sea next to a desert?” You said. “It just doesn’t seem possible …”

“It’s indeed possible, if the air on the desert side is dry enough.”

Amazing … You looked out into the horizon. The world was such a magical, beautiful place — and your delusional father had kept you from it.

“You know,” You let your towel slip into your lap, “back home, it’s said that our oasis was once a sea. A lot of us believe that.” You paused; did you believe that? You hadn’t thought much of it, only thought it was such a pretty myth. “Or a gift from a spirit, after our first village head, Goro, slayed a horrible beast.”

“It sounds like an amazing place,” Gaara said. “I hope, one day, you will take me to see it in person.”

Your father shadowed the conversation, dimming the light of the tales running rapid in your head.

“Kankuro has told me some things about it, though little has been written,” Gaara continued, looking straight ahead. The shade of the umbrella shrouded all but one leg as he propped an elbow on a knee. “About how it has magical properties. Is that true?”

You cast your gaze to your feet, which you burrowed into the sand. Your knees were hugged to your chest. “I don’t really know. The truth is, I’ve never seen it myself. Father forbade me, said I’m not ‘ready.’ Everyone I know, I know from him.” Like everything else. “He’s told me stories … I just know people who aren’t from our village can’t access it or drink its water. They need permission from the village head. But …”

You leaned forward to take his hand, enamored with the way your fingers intertwined with his.

“Once we’re married, you’ll be considered family,” You said. “We’ll see it together.”

Gaara ran a thumb over one of your fingers, considering you with a faint smile. “Yes, I’d like that.”

You unearthed a new dream. You gave it life and love and cradled it close to your heart. You watered it, as Gaara did his beloved plants, to keep it strong, and so it flourished in your mind’s eye: You and Gaara, visiting the oasis together, lounging underneath palm trees and sparkling water. You made to clench your hand until you remembered Gaara was holding it.

I can’t let Father destroy this dream. I can’t.

Gaara looked over your shoulder. “Oh, Temari and Kankuro are coming back …”

Temari and Kankuro sulked back to your section on the beach.

“The stands have nothing good,” Kankuro sighed. “Let’s go in the hotel to eat.”

“That’s Kankuro language for ‘let’s gamble,’” Temari snickered.

“I would never kid about food!” Kankuro argued. “I’m seriously hungry.”

“So am I.” You stood and dusted off your skirt. “Let’s go”

“Very well.” Gaara reclaimed your hand to help him off the beach, gave it a squeeze. “It will be on me.”

You secured a round table in one of the hotel’s swanky restaurants. It turned out Temari was right, because the moment your order came, Kankuro snatched his tray and made his way to the seductive poker tables to lose only the gods knew how much money.

“So predictable.” Temari rolled her eyes, crossing her legs at the table.

You played with your fries, twirling them in the ketchup — something that would’ve gotten you a firm lecture back home — while Gaara set down his glass.

“I meant to ask you both,” Gaara began. “When you went out shopping, did anything interesting happen? Did you talk about anything?”

You and Temari froze. You focused on the smiley-faces you were making with your ketchup pile while Temari scrambled for words.

Your sister told me in so many words that she would rip my throat off if I so much as laid a finger on you — which makes all this a hundred times harder …

“Uh, I — aha, well.” Temari continued to stammer, worrying a napkin in her hands. “We …”

“Just girl stuff, that was all it was!” You chirped.

“Ye—Yeah!” Temari said. She waved him off. “Nothing that would interest you, or — or any man, really!”

“Any man …” Gaara parroted. “I see.”

“No offense!” You nudged him assuredly.

He raised his head. “Does that mean you discussed the wedding?”

“Hm?” You blinked. You were caught off guard; in fact, there had been no discussion of the wedding since you’d arrived. The wedding that was meant to be a wedding.

The wedding that was only a sham to get you here.

“I think I would like a more traditional wedding, like Naruto and Hinata had,” Gaara said, surprising you with his forwardness. “You would look beautiful in traditional attire.”

“Uh.” This was not something you thought he would ever have any interest in.

“It seems like something the council would approve of, considering how stubborn they are about the old ways of doing things.” Gaara stiffened. “Only if you wanted. I thought we could discuss it over this vacation.”

“Gaara!” Temari scooted smoothie number five away, scandalized by her brother’s forwardness. Clearly, she had never met this version of her brother before, either. “What brought this on?”

“Our friends from the Leaf have been ecstatic about the news,” Gaara said. “And, as it’s only two or so weeks away now …”

“I think we should wait until we’re all gathered to talk about this, don’t you?” Temari’s amicable, sweet-older-sister voice was so incongruous with the woman you had come to know.

“I agree,” You hastened, thankful for the save. “That way we can all be in the know. I mean, Kankuro’s not even sitting here.”

“I think you may be right,” Gaara said bashfully. “Sorry about that. I guess I just got carried away for a minute there.”

“Not at all,” You said before biting into another fry. He’s so cute.

You had come to realize there was nothing quite like Gaara flattery; he was so earnest, so sincere. And he was excited about the wedding, about marrying you. The wings of your heart brushed your ribcage. But you didn’t want to have this discussion; it brought your lie(s) to the forefront of your mind. It was too raw, and you were not yet strong enough to weather it, to invite the others into your delusions. Only you could have these fantasies in the privacy of your mind where nothing could reach them.

But it was another facet to the dream you’d begun to nourish.

A new thought slotted in with the rest: Gaara mentioned Naruto, seventh Hokage — his friend.

“You’ve said before that you know Naruto Uzumaki personally.” You leaned in with curiosity. “What’s he like?”

“An absolute goofball,” Temari said.

“A true friend,” Gaara amended. “And an incredibly strong and formidable opponent.”

Temari shrugged. “Yeah, that, too.”

Gaara began sharing amazing anecdotes about his adventures with his other shinobi friends, how he and Gaara had fought after the attack on Konoha (you paid special attention to your meal, averting your eyes from anyone else), how the Leaf ninja had changed his perspective on life, how addicted he was to ramen. Your head spun with it all, especially when they used what you suspected were special shinobi words from their lexicon.

“And he was trained by Jiraiya,” You said, awed. “The same Jiraiya who wrote the Icha Icha series?”

“That’s the one,” Temari twirled her fork with sarcasm, head in her palm.

“This is all so incredible …” You said.

“Really?” Gaara said. “Is that so?”

“It’s a shame I can never meet him …” You said solemnly. “If things had turned out differently, he would be coming to the wedding as well — I could even get a signed copy!”

“The world is so cruel.” Temari feigned sadness.

Gaara wore an expression you had come to know when he was deep in thought. “I could get Naruto to arrange something, regardless.”

“Really?” You said as Temari choked on her drink.

“Gaara, no,” she said.

“No, no.” You echoed her sentiments, albeit for a different reason. “You’ve done enough for me.”

Blingblingbling. A series of metallic sounds blared as machines blazed their dispensers with coins. Gaara furrowed his brows. You could tell he was not fond of the hotel’s busy atmosphere, the endless commotion — not to mention the cigarette smoke.

“Let’s go to our rooms,” You said. “It’s getting late.”

Gaara perked. “Really? If you don’t mind …”

“Not at all.” You faced Temari. “Right, Temari?”

“I could get a break from the beach,” Temari said, waving the smoke away. “And the smoke.”

The three of you took the elevator back to the room floors and traipse the hallways, looking for your respective rooms.

“Thanks for saving me back there, by the way,” Temari said, cupping a hand over her mouth conspiratorially.

You chuckle. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I’m sorry for the way I acted in general,” Temari said. “I’ve been meaning to apologize, actually. I was hard on you. But … Gaara’s my little brother and all, I’m sure you understand.”

“Absolutely,” You said. “Something tells me my …” You fought a stutter in your throat. “… brother would have done the same for me.”

Hideo would always be the gnawing pang at your heart. You realized that as you approached the knob to admit you and Gaara into the room.

You turned the knob —

Crying. Wails.

You gasped. “Who is that?”

The three of you looked to the corner of the hallway — the source of the sound — where Kankuro was rounding, tears streaking his makeup.

“Kankuro?” You said.

“What’s happened?” Gaara said with startling authority.

“I’ve …” He sank to his knees in the hallway. “I lost so much money!”

“Oh, no!” You cupped your mouth.

“It’s those damn scheming geezers!” Kankuro cried, throwing his hand, tears wobbling down his face. “They cheated me, saw me coming from a mile away!”

“I told you not to get cocky if you were gonna gamble!” Temari said. “Now look at you!”

You and Gaara chuckled at the sight and each goodnight to them, but you were sure neither of them heard you over Kankuro’s crying and Temari’s yelling.

The next day, the blue of the sky was forced to contend with the weak wispy clouds breezing past, shielding and unveiling the sun at their leisure.

You admired them as you emerged from underneath the water. The sky enveloped your vision, and for a second you were sure you had been transported to heaven before Gaara broke you from your reverie:

“You’re advancing fast,” he praised, stationery in the water beside you.

You swerved, so you were across one another. “That’s because I have such a good teacher.”

Gaara smiled wordlessly as you initiated your novice backstroke. The irony of the Kazekage of Sunagakure teaching you how to swim was not at all lost on you. Chuuyou had worried about you being so far from his watchful eye, but you had insisted he keep more of a distance.

“My Lady,” he had said, his soft tone cut with an imploring edge, “I encourage you to reconsider.”

“I’m fine, Chuuyou.” You did your best to curb your annoyance, but it came out as a hiss, anyway. He’s just doing the job Father assigned him. “I would just like a little space. Please?”

And he had started giving it to you, no matter how unwillingly. You didn’t want Chuuyou so close; he was such a reminder of Father, of your real reason for being with Gaara and his siblings. You wanted all reminders gone. You wanted to fall into the dream.

Now, you couldn’t see Chuuyou anywhere on the beach. A pinch of anxiety previously holding your chest hostage released, relaxed into nothingness.

You splashed Gaara with water, giggling. “Race you to the shore!”

And Gaara, once again, didn’t answer; his answer came in the sound of him trading water with precision and speed. He was strong, much stronger than he looked, although you were not ignorant of the faint trace of muscle his lean form possessed.

He beat you, of course. He helped you from the water, the beach waves dispensing their white suds around your ankles.

“Oh!” You looked over the faint red burn forming on Gaara’s skin.

“Hm, I see.” He inspected his arms, which bore a few red spots. “I forgot.”

“You have to be more careful! Come here.” You took his hand, leading him back to the mismatched collection of beach towels you had secured on the beach. “I’ll put some on you.”

Kankuro and Temari were mysteriously missing. While you were sure Kankuro was engrossed in a life-or-death rematch with the old men who had swindled him the night before, you were not entirely sure what was keeping Temari.

You suspected, maybe, she was willingly leaving you alone with Gaara, who you hadn’t had a quiet moment with since only the gods know when. Unless, of course, you took the night before into consideration. For at least thirty minutes, you had pretended to sleep, pretended to not be aware of Gaara’s loving gaze on you in the dim tangerine light of the hotel room, only for him to fall asleep and you to turn the tables on him, staring at him semi-darkness with a racing heart you were hopeless to still. He had not even touched you; the only words he had exchanged after you had traded your beach clothes in for some pajamas had been a simple, hospitable goodnight, and still you couldn’t take your mind off of the intimacy of it all. Despite the two beds, despite everything.

Now, you were squeezing sunscreen into your hand, ready to massage it into his skin?

Gaara resisted. “You don’t have to,” he insisted.

You rubbed the cream together with your hands. “It’s all right, I don’t want you to get hurt — the sun is really intense.”

You ignored the way your heart skipped at the idea of massaging his bare skin.

I’m helping him, that’s all …

Gaara acquiesced. He closed his eyes when your hands fell on him. The sunscreen cooled underneath your palms as they made a trail down his arm.

“I’m usually more careful than this,” he said as you leaned in to address the arm across you. “It must have skipped my mind.”

You didn’t answer; your mouth went dry as you preoccupied yourself with how smooth and soft his skin felt under your fingers, like refined virgin marble. It was as though he had never been touched by another living soul in all his life. You felt blessed, honored.

A low rumble escaped Gaara’s throat as you leaned farther, the plush of your breast sinking into his arm and you jerked away, conscious of it.

You’re just helping …

“Does it feel … okay?” You asked.

“It does.”

Gaara leaned his head away so that you could massage into his neck, where your fingers brushed against the nape of his neck, felt the slightest indication of soft red hair beneath your fingernail. The slight of red hair under your fingers — you wanted to thread them in his forest of hair, before transferring to his chest. You could feel the ghosts of muscle you detected earlier, hard and … and steady. Gaara sat back to give you more access, but it only encouraged you to admire him more; the cliff of his jaw and, eyes trailing down even further, his lips …

Helping.

Your finger grazed one of his nipples, and Gaara flinched underneath the touch. He cracked an eye open at you, but you refused to meet it, pretending it didn’t happen by moving next to his back, lathering the span of it with sunscreen.

“There.” Your mouth was so parched the word almost didn’t form. “You should be all … set.”

You noticed the thoughtful, intense look Gaara was giving you. Your throat constricted, feeling more exposed than he was under his attention. If this was an Icha Icha novel, you knew he would lean forward, cup the back of your head and …

“Thank you,” Gaara’s voice was light.

You only nodded. You curled sinful hands in your lap, the sensation of Gaara’s skin tingling yours.

“… Excuse me?”

You were grateful for the distraction as your head turned to the source of the new little voice.

A little boy had crept toward the two of you on the beach, but he was staring at Gaara.

“… Are you th — the … Kazekage?”

Gaara turned to you for help and you sighed.

“The jig is up, I suppose,” You muttered to him.

“It’s true then?” the boy perked up in anticipation of Gaara’s answer.

Clearly emboldened, some of the boy’s other friends and playmates came to his side, waiting.

Gaara smiled and after a brief pause, “Yes. I am.”

Murmurs of amazement.

“Cool!” the boy said. “Can you show us some stuff?”

The kids crowded Gaara with their strung-out “pleases” and adorable pleading.

You leaned to whisper to Gaara, “Do it!”

He smiled before turning his attention to the beach. Sand began to stir and move, and you were glad the beach itself was much less crowded, with only the children doodling there, because sand began to rise and churn. Gaara grew sand structures on the beach. You furrowed your brows, following his vision as the sand morphed and solidified into …

Gaara had raised a giant sandcastle, complete with terraces and a drawbridge which plopped onto the beach floor to admit everyone.

The children rushed to the castle to admire it.

“Wow …” You gawked, entering into it. “It’s like a dollhouse!”

“Temari and Kankuro used to ask me to make things with sand all the time,” Gaara said as the children took your entering for clear permission and began to flood the castle.

Slides rolled down from spaces in the railings, little windows above the balustrades cut squares of sunlight for the perfect game of hopscotch. An atrium admitted invited more sunlight.

You giggled as they ran and played.

“This is amazing!” The little boy said, swinging on makeshift monkey bars. He plopped down and approached Gaara. “I wanna be just like you when I grow up, Lord Kazekage.”

Gaara looked stunned, before recovering with a gentle smile. “I hope everyone enjoys themselves …”

An hour or so passed while the two of you played with the children. Gaara constructed kaiju out of the stand and, having taken lessons from Kankuro, puppeteered them into fights as the children cheered on their favorites. Children took turns on the slides, falling into a giant whirlpool Gaara made. He encouraged you to go last, and your laughter turned to screams as you were propelled into the air and caught by Gaara’s forgiving sand.

“I want a castle just like this when we marry.” You admired the sandcastle from the outside as children tired themselves out around you. The sun had intensified, bringing with it a heat to parch your mouth dry.

You waited for Gaara’s interjection, but when he stayed quiet, you turned to him, only to see his attention was away from the beach, near a rise of obsidian rocks.

“I think there’s a cave over there,” Gaara said.

“I’ve never seen a cave before …” You said.

He turned to you. “Would you like to?”

You smiled. “What about the —?”

“I think they’re more than occupied.” Gaara gestured to the children still running and playing in and out of the sandcastle. “They won’t miss us.”

You smiled, nodded. “Let’s go.”

Rocks erected and curved like crescent moons to protect its own private island; a lagoon.

The two of you swam to explore, the way led by the sounds of seagulls and rushing waves. Gaara chaperoned you, but you swam without aid until the two of you came to the rocky shore.

You raised yourself from the waters by grabbing a rock for purchase, Gaara not far behind.

“I knew it,” You said triumphantly.

A small alcove indicated a cave not far off.

“Let’s go in!” You said, any and all fear you might have had to explore such a place dulled by the fact Gaara was with you. “I’ve got to find some souvenirs for this trip.”

“All right, then,” Gaara obliged.

The cave’s ceiling cast shadows over the water. A hole in its rocky ceiling created a natural spotlight at its center. Color winked in your periphery, hinting at aquatic flowers accosted by the rolling waters, and you wondered if you could find petals lost in the water.

“This is amazing,” You said. “It’s like earth meeting water.” You twirled in the water to see Gaara admiring you thoughtfully. You became self-conscious. Nerves constricted your speech. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Gaara muttered as he inched closer. “You are very brave; you try new things all the time.”

You stilled — only to remember your imperative to stay moving in the water. He called me brave. You weren’t so sure. You only had the nerve to explore because you were aided by the Kazekage. But still, you opened your mouth, only to close it again; never had anyone ever complimented you on anything other than your “beauty.” You struggled to receive it.

Am I brave? How would I know …?

“I would like to thank you, (Y/n),” Gaara went on, cradling your name in his deep, dulcet tone. “You’ve done nothing but smile since the moment you came to my village. It must have been difficult to come here, all things considered … So, thank you.”

You were silent. His warm words blanketed you. It had been hard. Frightening. Everything was foreign. Nothing felt like home. And there was the weight of your — you swallowed — mission. What was this ability Gaara had to make you feel so seen? Now exposed, not undressed, but … read. Appreciated. Lovingly studied. Annotated.

You became struck with the intimacy of the cave; it was only you and Gaara. You were so far from shore. The scene was beginning to soften, its edges watercoloring until it seemed more dream than reality. The water had to rival the peaceful turquoise of Gaara’s eyes as you became lost in them.

He caressed your cheek so gingerly you flinched at the hand you hadn’t seen rise.

“I would … like to try something. Is that all right?”

Your mouth refused to form words; you nodded your consent.

Gaara’s other hand came to rest against your hip, steadying you in water as he had done in air. He leaned toward you, into you. You blinked water from your lashes, frozen everywhere else. You were in a dream:

Gaara’s lips brushed against yours.

His kiss was gentle, virgin, but you felt the soft plant of his lips on your own, and your soul departed from your flesh despite its lack of violence. Your eyes fluttered close, your hands resting on his shoulders.

Centuries later, Gaara moved away. You opened your eyes to see him nestled among the stars clouding your vision.

“I’ve …” Gaara lowered his gaze. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You struggled to recover. If you were speechless before, he had managed to eviscerate your vocabulary, your mental library set ablaze. Your heart was a hummingbird trapped in your chest. “Li — likewise …”

Gaara looked up, concerned. “Was it okay?”

You shook your head — until you realized you would have to couple it with words to assuage his concern. “No, no! It was — Gaara … it was amazing.”

Gaara smiled. “… I was worried. Thank you for letting me kiss you.”

You returned his smile. “Thank you for the souvenir.”

You were plopped back into reality, with the sea and the salt and the seagulls singing their songs overhead. An awkward silence punctured it all. You simply stared at him. And stared and stared and stared.

He grazed a hand over your wet forearm. “Would you like to do it again —?”

“Yes …” You said before he could finish, wrapping arms around him.

“Gaara! (Y/n)!”

It was Kankuro’s voice, far away, yet loud enough to dispel the dream entirely.

“Is that …?” Gaara trailed.

“Gaara!”

You broke away from him. “We should head back — there might be trouble.”

Gaara didn’t object, following you out. You could detect the significant dots of Temari and Kankuro on the shore as you two returned.

“What’s going on?” You said as you and Gaara emerged from the water.

Kankuro’s thousand-yard stare was your only reply. “I’ve done it,” he said quietly. “I’ve finally done.”

“What, Kankuro?” Gaara asked.

Kankuro thrust something in your faces. You fixed eyes on it. A medallion the color of the sun stared back.

You gasped. “But that’s —!”

“One of the old geezers won it off a pirate years back!” Kankuro said triumphantly.

“He begged me to help him beat the guys at the table,” Temari exclaimed, arms crossed. “How much is it, anyway?”

“Temari,” Kankuro deadpanned, “it’s worth thousands.”

Temari’s gasp echoed yours, as though she were doused with cold water —

“I take back everything I ever said about you, Kankuro!” Temari said, fingers knitted and stars in her eyes.

“That’s a once in a lifetime, I bet!” You said. “I’ve only seen one of those things once in my entire life.”

“Who would bet something this valuable in a game of cards?” Temari said. “Men are so reckless —“

“Congratulations, Kankuro!” Gaara said. “We knew you could do it.”

“Me, too,” Kankuro spun the coin with his thumb and caught it, satisfied with himself.

“Me, too,” Temari patted him on the back. “Now you can help pay off the Sand’s debt!”

It was a second before Kankuro realized what Temari was saying — and then the crying and begging began.

“So, you two been up to much?” Temari said. She eyed the giant sandcastle of Gaara’s making and the kids who had turned it into their personal playground, all while ignoring Kankuro’s crying in the background. She raised her brows. “Ah, I see. Anything else?”

Neither you nor Gaara answered. A few seconds ticked by before Temari blanched.

“Nothing much,” Gaara said finally.

You kept eyes on your toes, hoping the red on your face could be excused for the beach heat.

Gaara watched you return to his hotel room, saltwater washed from your hair, sighing. Kankuro sat on one of the couches, grumbling and cradling his precious coin to his chest, while Temari lounged on another, drink in hand.

“Those kids must’ve had a field day,” Temari said. “It was sweet of you to do that, Gaara.”

“It was (Y/n)’s idea, actually,” Gaara corrected. Warmth spread over him as he remembered the parents coming to collect their children, their little hands raised in farewell as they called it a day. He had decided to leave the sandcastle where it was, however, so they might play another day.

“It was your expertise,” You said, patting your damp hair with the towel. “Just hopin’ those families will keep us being here a secret.”

Gaara watched you inquisitively.

“It’s the least they can do,” Kankuro said sullenly, kicking his feet on an ottoman, fuzzy slippers dangling from its edge. “We built them a freakin’ fast food playground for free.” His face softened. “They did look real cute out there, though. And playtime is important.”

“I’m sure they will!” You settled into a chair. “It must’ve taken a great deal of chakra control, as well!”

Temari paused. “You know about chakra?”

“Of course I do,” You said, waving her off.

“No, you don’t.”

The room paused. Heads turned to Gaara.

You tilted your head at him. “What do you mean?”

Gaara didn’t answer. He raised from his chair. He fished a shuriken from his pocket and threw it —

It pierced the flesh of your throat.

“Gaara —!” Temari and Kankuro yelled in unison.

You clutched your throat and Gaara waited for blood. There was no blood.

You poofed away.

“A clone!” Kankuro shot from his chair.

“We need to find her,” Gaara said. “Now.”

The violent colors of the sunset bled into the horizon; burnt oranges and crimsons drowned the sky. You hugged knees to your chest as the suds of waves kissed your feet.

Your fingers were touched to the skin of your lips.

He had kissed you. Gaara, the Kazekage, had kissed you, and he had wanted to do it again.

He wanted you. It was clear. You wanted him.

And yet you lied to him.

It was not like you had imagined. Nothing about this trip to Sunagakure was, but this … was especially off-kilter. You had imagined a filthy, detached nightly tryst. Your yukata torn from your body by feverish hands as the Kazekage ravaged you — not asking, only taking. And, after defiling you and drifting to sleep, you would unwind your treacherous necklace from your neck and drip poison into his snoring mouth …

It was what your father had intended and what you had expected.

Instead … The ghost of Gaara’s hand tingled your hip, and his gentle kiss had imprinted itself on your lipskin. So sweet, so …

You searched the horizon. Hideo, what do I do? What would you have me do?

Did it matter if you chose to remove yourself from your father’s plan? Gaara is exactly who you would’ve wanted for me, Hideo. You were still lying. Even if your father came and killed you for being a traitor, you would still be lying … No. It was more than that. That was skin deep. The shame went deeper to puncture veins and bone. You were the lie. A pretty wife for the Kazekage, come to make peace. Come to destroy it.

You stood, nausea wobbling your step, and wretched your necklace from your neck.

Your necklace was a lie, too.

A weapon.

Did it matter if, in your madness, you had decided to hang on to it to protect Gaara, or yourself, if the time came? You stumbled, eyes returning to the horizon.

You would throw it into the sea and let the water devour it.

The pendant of it sat in your palm, cool against your skin. Your hand made a fist around it, ready to —

A force at your side. You collapsed to the ground. The necklace flew from your hands. Your side exploded with pain. Something wove to restrict your hands behind your back.

You cried out, groaning with pain and barely able to register it before harsh hands yanked on your constricted wrists. They hoisted you to your feet by something — someone.

You screamed — only for a hand to clasp to your mouth.

“You’re quite the prize. I’ll admit that at least,” said a voice in your ear, low and masculine. “And in more ways than one. I can only imagine what Lord Boutoku will trade for you.”

You struggled as you were dragged backwards, the beach shore growing smaller.

No. Nonononono.

Someone had found out, someone had found you —

A blast from behind you and the hands holding you were gone. You stumbled to remain standing. You turned around to see your captor crash on the beach floor.

“Get away from her!”

You turned. Temari — fan unfolded at her side — and Kankuro were running toward you. Gaara mysteriously absent, but your eyes searched for him, nevertheless.

Temari took you in her arms before maneuvering you behind her. Your captor was on his feet now, knife-weapon in hand.

“Heh,” the guy smirked. “I can take you two.”

Kankuro’s matching smirk was deadlier. “What about three?”

Sand pooled, tentacled, and shot forward to grab your captor. It hoisted the man in the air as he screamed. It bound his arms and legs.

Your eyes widened as sand cocooned him. “What in the world —?”

Sssssssss…

You frowned, concentrating on the sound. A snake? No … Sand rustled. You turned to see something rising on the beach. It emerged slowly, taking on the image of a man — it was a man.

Gaara.

Gaara’s image solidified to become flesh and bone, hair and skin and clothing.

“Gaara …” You were relieved — until you felt the rage radiating from him.

Even from where the man lay trapped, towering in the air, you could see the color leave his face.

“The — the Kazekage …!”

“You knew Lord Boutoku’s daughter was here, but not the Kazekage?” Kankuro mocked. He clicked his tongue. “You’re even dumber than you look.”

“Explain yourself,” Gaara ordered.

“H — Hey.” The man trembled in the sand’s death grip. “I didn’t know — I’m sorry, okay? I — I take it back. I never would’ve hurt the girl, all right? I only wanted —“

“Your prize?” Gaara’s voice was low, his stare hardening. “And what if she hadn’t given you the information you wanted?”

A deceptive curl of sand wrapped around the man’s throat like a python. You turned back to Temari and Kankuro, who were watching with detached amusement.

“I — I only wanted money, okay! That’s all!”

Temari feigned a coo. “Aww. You’ll be getting a bit more than that now, I’m afraid.”

“You’re a disgrace …” Murder lived in Gaara’s eyes.

Sand constricted, crushed, concealing your captor’s tremors as he screamed in terror. The amusement was gone from Temari and Kankuro, replaced with a growing concern.

“Gaara!” Kankuro said, inching closer. “C’mon. Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

“Gaara!” Temari hissed. “I thought you were only going to scare him, don’t tell me you —?”

“Gaara.” Your voice was small among the screaming and the perennial rustling of sand and your rapid heart in your ears. “Please, don’t. Please … it’s all right.”

Gaara’s hand flinched beside him, as though desperately resisting the urge to clench it. His glare did not leave the man he threatened to kill.

“Please …” You pleaded softly.

Gaara tore himself away from the scene, stalking away.

The sand lost its shape and crashed like water downward. The man plummeted to the ground. You yelped as a sickening crack sounded through the beach, and then silence. It was only until you saw the man rise from his place, one leg making up for the mangled other, were you able to breathe again. He was alive.

But barely.

Sand and Oasis ninja flooded the hotel. You felt bad for the other clientele, who were looking around for answers and found few.

Your captor had, apparently, heard about your staying at the hotel and, once getting a glimpse of you at the beach, had created a clone of you to fool everyone. Afterward, it was only a means of finding you alone to make a move. He had been carded away and, despite the horrible crack you’d heard, had only managed to break literally an arm and a leg. Nothing more. Until more information was known, the guests were either encouraged to leave or sequester themselves in their rooms.

The rogue had managed, in the fray of the vacation, to fool even Chuuyou. Who, you had a feeling, would be glued to you even more than before from now on.

You were fine. Slightly shaken, and your side still screamed with pain if you grew too bold, but otherwise fine, your necklace having been returned to you by Temari to weigh you down like an anvil. You were more concerned for Gaara, who had not spoken a word to anyone since walking off the beach. He lingered in the corner of the lobby. He said nothing to no one.

“I am so, so very sorry for this.” The hotel owner bowed profusely in the lobby, over and over, as the situation resolved. “The family of the Kazekage, please … Whatever we can do to rectify this horrific event — please accept my apologies, oh gods, oh oh oh —“

“It’s all right,” Kankuro said soberly, attention clearly elsewhere. You had never seen him so serious. He shook his head at Temari. “You were right. Damn, I’ve been reckless …”

“No, Kankuro.” Temari petted him on the shoulder. “It’s all right; it wasn’t just your responsibility —”

“No,” Kankuro swatted her away, “it’s not all right. I am the Kazekage’s guard. Imagine what could’ve happened?”

Temari was quiet, face soured by the multitude of ugly possibilities. A strange knowing pulsed the air, passing between the two of them and excluding you.

You recalled their faces. At first, Temari and Kankuro had been derisive, hardly bothered at all by Gaara’s rage. As though they had witnessed it a million times. It had startled you. Only later, when it seemed Gaara would kill him, did they move to stop him …

But something gnawed at you, like a mosquito stabbing for blood, refusing to be ignored. The way Gaara’s sand had curled up around your captor. The cocoon. How ready it was to envelope him, seal him away.

A sand burial.

… Wasn’t that what Father had called it in his letter? …

… Where had he gotten that terminology?

Something gross and lingering layered over you like the remnants of a bad dream, like snake-skin. It crawled up your skin. For a split second, you imagined Hideo in the man’s place, and the need to retch sent you grappling at the back of a chair.

Hadn’t Joseki tried to warn you, tried to stop you?

What if he had good reason?

Seas could not contain the blood that boy has shed.

No. It didn’t make sense — nothing made sense.

You had so many questions and no way to get them. Gaara had moved to protect you. A warm sense of comfort sat beside the gross feeling.

Gaara, kind, loving, his villagers loved him, his siblings loved him, he was kind to you, had kissed you —

And yet, you couldn’t reconcile the murder you had seen in Gaara’s face, holding the man he was ready to kill (for you!!) in the air …

Dizzy, you steered yourself in a chair.

It got Gaara’s attention. “Are you all right, (Y/n)?”

You startled at the sound of his voice. “Ye — Yes, I’m fine …”

Gaara studied you. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” You lied, side sore and aching for Epsom salts.

“Are you sure?”

His voice was gentle. You looked up at him, noted the concern in his face, those lips you had kissed only hours ago. Looking into his eyes ignited a storm inside you. It shouldn’t have been possible to feel so much just by the mere sight of someone.

Did you kill Hideo, Gaara?

“Yes.”

“We’re not staying,” Kankuro told the hotel owner. “We’re too vulnerable here. Too confined.”

“I understand,” the owner said. “If there’s anything I can do … Anything at all …”

The desert was quiet. The four of you were on your way back to Suna. The emergency tents from the carriages had been risen and now sat like tiny pyramids in the starry night.

You snuck away from yours, coming out from its flap into the chilly desert air, such a stark contrast to the heat during the day. Gaara’s tent sat adjacent to yours, a soft orange candlelight emanating from its slit. It was long into the night before Gaara’s shadow could no longer be seen flickering on the tent’s cloth walls. Somehow, he had found sleep.

You didn’t know what you were doing or why. Despite Gaara being the last person you should want to see, all you wanted was to be near him, as though the truth you couldn’t piece together would show on his face.

Barefoot, you carried yourself toward Gaara’s tent. The breeze swept the hem of your robe. A flicker in your periphery startled you.

Chuuyou stood by your tent. He met your eye.

You froze.

He nodded to you and stared out into the desert, as though he had seen nothing.

A shared secret. Understanding.

He’s thinks I’m going to kill Gaara. A chill trickled your spine.

Something about Chuuyou’s reaction made the plan so … real. Others were waiting on you. They would act. What would happen after it was done? Would the Oasis ninja ambush the other tents, attempt to kill Temari and Kankuro? Would there be a full scale battle right in the middle of nowhere as your ninja stole you away and took you back to the village? The chill within rivaled the chill without.

You shook it off, attempted to chip away at the reality of it. We’re in the middle of the desert. It would be foolish to do it now — even if I was going to. Doesn’t he see that? You crept into Gaara’s tent.

He slept on his slip of a bed on the floor, face peaceful in the candlelight. Quiet, save for the slight crunch of your bare feet on the sandy ground.

How could he sleep after everything that had happened? A better question: what were you doing here? Did you want to talk to Gaara, hoping there would be some way you could bring up Hideo’s death without seeming suspicious, accusatory? But you had no plan, and he was asleep. And now here you were, standing over him in the night.

You remembered how Gaara had told you about his heavy sleeping. In another world, this would be the moment. You would simply slip the poison from the necklace into his mouth and be done with it. No more confusion. It would be done, your tight-roping act over and done with.

You wouldn’t have to wonder anymore. A decision would have been made. You would just have to live with yourself. But could you live with yourself?

The mental torture, and the desire to free yourself from it, sent your hand to your necklace. You trailed fingers to the back of it, to detach it.

You stood witness to his sleeping form. He slept the way he had when he was surrounded by his plants. How sweet his hobby was, how he had endeared himself to you. The statue of Karura. How gorgeous he was then, how gorgeous he was now …

In your madness, Hideo’s voice morphed with your father’s: Do it. Avenge me. Avenge me.

You studied his face but found no answers there.

You leaned over him, as though the answers you sought after were an inch or so away —

“(Y/n)?”

You startled. Temari’s head had poked through the slit of the tent.

“What are you doing in here?”

You froze. In that moment, you knew exactly what it looked like: you, deviously bent over her baby brother, about to do only the gods knew what. Your mind spun for an excuse.

In that moment, you saw a slim change in Temari’s expression — Concern? Anger? Suspicion?

Before it could change, Gaara roused. A groan rumbled in his throat. “What’s happened?” he asked groggily.

He propped up. Your eyes flickered from him to Temari.

“I — I couldn’t sleep,” You said, not technically a lie. “I wanted to sleep with Gaara tonight.”

Gaara sat up in bed.

“What?” Temari was blushing.

“I’m … still so rattled by what happened …” You went on, using your actual nerves to amplify the effects of your lie-not-lie. I’m such a mess. “I’d feel safer if I …”

“That’s fine,” Gaara said.

“Gaara,” Temari said, scandalized. “Are — are you sure?”

“It makes sense that (Y/n) would be uncomfortable alone after what happened.” Gaara moved aside to make room for you on the futon. “We’ll be husband and wife soon enough as it is. It’s only natural we begin sleeping together.”

Gaara seemed to avoid your eye, the weight of the day’s events an uncomfortable one. As if on cue, you slipped into the futon to be beside him, making a mental side note of the warmth flooding you immediately after.

“Well —” Temari stammered. “A — All right. As long as …” She paused; considering what came after as was too horrifying to think about. “Good night!”

You blushed; of course her mind would go to when she had found the two of you on the beach, the unspoken words to explain what you had been up to. She zipped the tent back up, leaving the two of you alone.

You laid down, exhaled a long breath. Gaara’s presence beside you was immense.

“I am … sorry,” he said. “For today. This is not how I wanted things to go.”

“It’s all right. I’m not as fragile as you think.” You balled a fist under the pillow. “I’m sure shinobi see far worse.”

“It’s no use comparing yourself to us; we are trained to face violence and be somewhat desensitized to it,” Gaara said. “I don’t expect you to be. Do you want to talk about it?”

This was the Gaara you had come to know, but what about the one from earlier? There were two Gaaras in your mind.

“No,” You assured softly. “I’m fine.”

“I understand …” You detected a bit of disappointment in Gaara’s voice. “Sleep now, then. We’ll be back in the village by the afternoon.”

You obeyed without meaning to. Exhaustion won out against your anxieties. The moment your eyes closed, you were asleep.

In the morning, you would wake up with your hand in Gaara’s, having reached for it in the night.

#gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #gaara smut #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto smut #my work

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