#slowly changing into something…..Different

[nanamiscocksleeve]

My Beloved Boys

Warnings: MDNI, sex, virginity loss, threesome, oral (m rec), clit play, childhood friends to lovers trope. Liberties taken with the timeline, this is not the canon timeline, ages have been changed for story convenience. ANGSTY. A/n: Caleb got me ya'll. I tried, I tried really hard, I promise. And now this is what my ovulating brain has cooked up. Please enjoy it. I know this wasn't on my upcoming but I couldn't help it. Also please note, reader, Caleb, and Zayne are all the same age aka 18 here. Not proofread, expect raw text and descriptions.

It had been a few weeks since you’d joined UNICORNS and Tara invited you over to her place for a girls’ weekend. All of you were comfortably laid out in different parts of her living room, drinking wine and eating slices of pizza from the box.

The night had been fun, and with an entire bottle now empty, the women were loosening up and the topics were getting more and more risque. From complaining about exes to sex, to size measurements, they had finally arrived on the subject of virginity. 

“So, what was your first time like?” All eyes are suddenly fixed on you and you feel self-conscious. Taking a sip of your wine, you try not to flush as you vividly remember all the details like it was yesterday.

“Oh, you know. Awkward. Shy. The usual.” You try to act nonchalant but Tara leans forward with a gleam in her eye. 

“Oh come on! Tell us!”

Looking at the crowd of eager faces, you empty your glass before confessing, “My first time…was with two people.” You wait with bated breath, and slowly, one by one, everyone’s eyes widen with comprehension.

“Excuse me?” Tara squeals and sinks her fingers into your arm. You wince and pry her off.

“A threesome for your first time?” One of the other women joined in, a huge grin on her face. “Did it hurt?”

“Why a threesome? Was it something you fantasized about?”

You shake your head no at all the questions. “No. Growing up, I had two best friends and I loved them dearly. I just…couldn’t choose between them both.” 

“Tell us everything.” Tara sits down on the carpet and all the women gather in a tight circle looking eagerly at you. You sigh and extend your glass.

“Get me more wine.”

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~Flashback~

It was the summer after graduating senior year. You were enjoying what would possibly be the last summer before everyone went their separate ways. Life had been rough for you, losing your family several years earlier. But now, you had a grandmother, and 2 best friends who had been through everything with you. Still, the memories brought back a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. Your nextdoor neighbor Zayne, and your grandmother’s other ward Caleb, were your inseparable companions since you had moved in with Josephine after the devastating wanderer attack that had destroyed most of Linkon City. 

Zayne and Caleb were alike, yet different. Both of them were tall and intelligent. Zayne was stoic and introverted, whereas Caleb was extroverted and easygoing. Somehow, the three of you became a unit, never seen without the other two in tow. Any escapades or shenanigans were always done together. You’d done homework together, fell asleep on the living room floor watching cartoons, and shared many meals in the last few years. The idea of being without them seemed unthinkable. Impossible in fact. You’d assumed you would all stay together in Linkon forever.

That had all changed last year, the summer before your senior year. You had been looking forward to spending the summer with Zayne and Caleb. But as the three of you had sat down at your usual boba tea spot, Zayne became very quiet as you started discussing plans for the summer. 

“What’s wrong with you? Is your tea not cold enough? You can just use your evol right?” Caleb had teased, sipping his drink. He gives Zayne a playful jab and Zayne glares at him, adjusting his glasses that had slipped down his nose. 

“Zayne?” You reach out and cover his hand with yours, hoping he’ll talk. There was a strange expression on his face. “Talk to us.”

“Yeah, Zayne. Talk to us.” Caleb widens his eyes and covers your hand with his. “We’re here for you boy,” he says with a tinge of mockery, making his voice sound high and feminine and you give him a withering look, pulling your hand out of the pile.

Zayne sips his milk tea, then quietly says, “I might not be here for most of the summer.” Caleb and you exchange a look before glancing back at Zayne. 

“What do you mean?”

Zayne looks apologetic like he regrets not sharing this news earlier. “I’ll be touring colleges most of the summer. And my parents decided to make it a road trip.”

“Colleges?” Caleb looked intrigued. “You already started applications?”

“I did. And…several of them have already sent in offers for next fall.” 

“What?!” You’re louder than you had intended to be. Zayne winces and you lower your voice. “You’ve already received acceptance letters and didn’t bother telling us?” 

“I’m sorry.” Zayne holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. Neither of you had mentioned college and I didn’t want to talk about it if you weren’t ready.”

“But Zaynie!” Caleb puts a hand on his chest looking wounded. “We’re a family bro! Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

Zayne shakes his head and drinks his tea. You’re about to as well when realization washes over you. “Wait. You said you had several acceptance letters.”

“I do.”

“Well, where are they? You’re staying in Linkon right?” You ask, and for some reason, your heartbeat is increasing. You wait for Zayne to say, of course, one of them is in Linkon and that’s his first choice. 

“I did receive an offer from Linkon Medical University. However…there are better programs.”

“Really? So you might move for college?” Caleb regards Zayne passively. 

“It’s not out of the question.”

An unnatural silence falls at the table as the three of you drink your teas. This was wonderful news for Zayne. You were happy for him, but inside, it felt like your heart had been tied into a painful knot. You knew Zayne was the smartest of your group and that he was destined to be a doctor. But you hadn’t even thought it would mean Zayne might not be in Linkon City anymore. From a professional standpoint, it made sense. He deserved to go to the best college. But it left you feeling hollow like his impending departure had fractured the carefully crafted life you’d built since you’d been taken in by your grandmother. 

“When are you leaving?” Caleb breaks the silence and you’re relieved. 

“Sometime in July.”

“Oh, great! We still have a month then.”

“Well…”

Caleb’s eyebrows knit together in dismay. “What?”

“I have some extra classes I need to take. I’m hoping to get a head start on the pre-med requisites.”

“So, you’re going to be in school all of June?” You try to hide your disappointment. 

Zayne sighs. “Unfortunately. I’ll still be around. We can make time to hang out.” 

You nod unenthusiastically, then hiss as you feel Caleb step on your foot under the table. His purple eyes give you a sharp glance and he gestures towards Zayne and you realize this wasn’t about you; Zayne had shared news that he knew would affect your dynamic but had done so thinking he would have the support of his friends. Caleb reminding you of your manners was humbling and you lowered your gaze.

“I’m really happy for you Zayne.” You murmur, then rearrange your features into what you hoped was a pleasant look of approval. “Congratulations.”

Zayne’s eyes seem to lighten at your appreciation. “Thank you. It took me by surprise actually.”

“Seriously Zaynie. That’s really impressive. So we’re gonna have a doctor amongst us. Hey, you better give us the good drugs if we ever come to you.” Caleb pats Zayne on the shoulder in an acclamatory fashion. Zayne’s demeanor visibly relaxes and you try to keep up a happy face for the rest of the evening.

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The sun was starting to set by the time you got home, the lazy streaks of tangerine painting the sky vivid shades of pink and orange. There was a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach as you changed into pajamas and brushed your teeth. It had taken years for you to get some semblance of a family, and now someone was going away. AGAIN.

You try to reassure yourself that this wasn’t the same thing. Zayne might be going away for college but it wasn’t until next year. You still had your senior year left to build some precious final memories. Somehow, he seemed older all of a sudden, like he had become an adult within a few hours of telling you about his acceptance letters. You knew you’d be going to college too but hadn’t given much thought about any of it. After the Linkon City disaster, you had decided you didn’t want to wander too far away. You didn’t want to leave Grandma Josephine all by herself. Although Zayne seemed to have made up his mind about attending a college somewhere else, you reminded yourself that you still had Caleb. 

Caleb hadn’t talked about college much, but you knew he wanted to attend. He didn’t know what he would major in, but he was naturally gifted in mechanics. You assumed he would be an engineer or something similar. He and Zayne had inherited the math skills, and you’d managed to get a decent grade by studying with them, or rather, getting bullied by them, with Zayne trying not to snap explaining how he got the answer versus Caleb taunting you saying you’d never graduate high school if you were this stupid. It was then you had decided perhaps a career in science wasn’t for you. But perhaps something in the arts, or communications. Perhaps languages. You wondered if maybe you were kidding yourself by not already sending out applications, or at the very least, making a list of where you’d like to attend.

Restless and unable to turn off your mind, you go next door to Caleb’s room and knock.

“Enter at your own risk!”

Rolling your eyes, you walk in and see Caleb sprawled out on his bed, holding his Switch over his head as he gamed.  “Oh, pipsqueak. It’s you.”

You sit on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the corner of the quilt as he continues to play. As you waited, you looked up at the ceiling, where little airplane models, all built by Caleb’s own hands, had been carefully strung up using fish wire and hooks. Little glow-in-the-dark stars littered the spaces in between. You sigh and draw your knees up to your chest, wondering what would happen to the models if he left for college.

Noticing your morose expression, Caleb exits the game and sits upright. “What’s the matter with you?” 

You shake your head and squeeze the bridge of your nose. “It’s Zayne. Did you know he had already applied to colleges?”

“No.” Caleb leans on his bed assessing you. “But I’m not surprised. And he has a point.”

“Which is?”

“Colleges are really competitive these days. Like even with excellent grades and extracurriculars, some people still have to take a gap year because they didn’t get in or they got put on a waiting list.”

You consider his words. “Do you think we should be applying too?”

“If we were smarter, we’d have already applied.” Caleb runs a hand over his face. “But it’s ok. We have the whole summer to plan. I think applications reopen sometime over winter break. We can apply then. You know, like normal students, and not nerds like Zayne.”

You laugh weakly, giving Caleb a reprimanding look. “That’s not a nice thing to say about our friend.”

“He’s not around is he? Anyway. Don’t fret pipsqueak. You’ll get in somewhere too.”

“You’ll stay close to Linkon right?” You lean closer to Caleb, your eyes boring into his. “We can’t leave grandma by herself.”

“Of course. Don’t worry.” Caleb puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you towards him. Your head rests on his shoulder as he traces circles into your arm. The action is comforting and familiar, and a sense of calm washes over you. 

“I don’t like it when people leave.” You confess quietly and Caleb sighs.

“I know. You used to cry all the time when you first came here. You cried when grandma left to get groceries. You cried when I left for soccer practice. You cried when it was time for Zayne to go home. Honestly,” he smirks and pinches you, making you yip in surprise. “You’re such a crybaby that I’m surprised you want to attend college at all. You know you’re gonna have to live with strangers in the dorm right? Are you gonna cry into your little bear plushie?”

He grins and dodges a blow from you, a bark of laughter escaping him as you try to roughhouse. He indulges you for two missed attempts then leaps and pins you to the mattress. You squirm and shriek under him, trying to escape as he tickles you relentlessly.

“Caleb! Caleb stop!” There are tears in your eyes from the hilarity of the situation.

“Aw, are you gonna cry when you’re being tickled now too? Crybaby crybaby!” Caleb continues to mock you before you pull a dirty move; you angle your knee against his crotch and grin as you instantly feel him go still.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Caleb’s breathing has stilled, and he’s warily looking down at you as you prepare to play your trump card. 

“I’ve done it before and won’t hesitate to do it again.” Knowing you had him in the palm of your hand, you look him deadpan in the eye.

“Get off.” Caleb complies immediately and you sigh, trying to calm your unsteady heart.

“You’re really heartless sometimes ya know?” Caleb’s voice is heard near your head and you turn to face him.

“I had to learn.”

A moment of peace falls between you both and Caleb softly cups your cheek. “Everything will be ok. I promise. You won’t be left behind. You’ll always have a family. We’ll never be too far away from you.” 

“You’d better not.” You huff and suddenly feel exhausted. “Caleb?”

“You can stay here tonight.”

“I didn’t-”

“I already knew. I knew from the second Zayne said he’s not going to be around this summer.” Caleb shifts and pulls you under his quilt. You bury your nose into his chest and close your eyes.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not independent.” You quip and a rumble emanates from Caleb’s chest.

“Of course not pipsqueak. Miss independent.” He strokes your hair and your eyelids grow heavy. Caleb tucks your head under his chin. “But you can be as dependent on me as you want.” Those are the last words you hear before falling into a deep slumber.

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You barely see Zayne for the next few weeks. His classes kept him busy and he always had homework. Caleb had suddenly become secretive after the night you’d spent in his room though he kept reassuring you that he was fine. You sulk as you watch TV by yourself, Caleb having locked himself in his room again. You wondered what had made him behave so differently. The last few times you’d tried to talk to him, he’d unceremoniously shoved you back out. 

“Boys need their privacy sometimes,” Grandma had reassured you, noticing the way you were glowering at the TV. “Would you like to help me run errands?” 

Josephine's list wasn’t terribly exciting, but you were still bitter from being snubbed by Caleb, so you went anyway. Several hours later, you return feeling accomplished. Just as you’re about to help Josephine put away the groceries, you hear footsteps on the stairs and Caleb finally makes an entrance. 

“Oh look at that! Our groundhog has made a rare appearance!” Josephine teases as Caleb grins sheepishly. 

“Ooh, apples!” He says zealously seeing you unbag the bright red fruits. As he’s about to grab one you smack his hand and he withdraws with a yelp. 

“What was that for?” He rubs his hand looking offended. 

“Only people who helped buy the groceries are entitled to eat them.” You put them away neatly into the fruit basket on the counter, refusing to look at Caleb. With Zayne being awol you had thought Caleb would be a little more sensitive towards you and you were still quite annoyed at his lack of consideration. Caleb huffs, then hoists himself onto the kitchen counter, his long legs dangling off the edge.

“What were you doing all this while anyway?” Josephine asks as she puts away more groceries. “Summer vacation usually means I can’t get a hold of you two even if I needed to. I thought you were planning to go to the beach? Play volleyball with some of your friends?”

“Yeah, and we will. Even if this little gremlin is mad at me.” Caleb hesitantly looks at you, hoping you’d simmered down but you shoot daggers at him and he shakes his head. “I need to talk to you both.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to look at him but Caleb’s eyes are fixated on Josephine, who’s looking curious. 

“What is it? Nothing serious I hope?” The old woman sits down at the kitchen table. 

“No, it’s not serious. But. It’s kind of sudden.” Caleb’s refusal to make eye contact with you was now starting to scare you. “Grandma, we told you about Zayne and him already getting ready for college right?”

“You did. I always knew Zayne would excel at whatever he put his mind to. Clever boy that one.”

“Well, his news was sort of a wake-up call for me. What I was doing all these days was looking at colleges, and I think I know what I want to do.”

The evening summer sunlight falls charmingly on Caleb’s face, illuminating his smooth skin, the dark hair falling elegantly into his eyes and for a moment, you feel the same sensation you had felt after Zayne had told you about college. You heart was already twisting into nervous knots, and you waited with bated breath as Caleb continued. 

“I’ve decided I want to be a pilot.” His eyes are lit up with ambition as he says the words. Josephine cups her cheeks with her hands, a smile growing on her wrinkled face.

“That’s wonderful Caleb! I’m very happy for you.”

“Yeah. And. There’s something else I found out while doing my research.” Josephine immediately leans forward attentively. You listen quietly, but you can’t help but feel a slight sense of betrayal. Why would Caleb need to hide this from you? It wasn’t a secret that he wanted to go to college, and he loved talking about planes and jets. You felt like there was a piece he was hiding, saving it for fear of losing their attention. 

“The Deepspace Aviation Administration has an apprenticeship-based degree which guarantees I’d graduate as a pilot. It’s a degree in Aviation Engineering. Grandma.” Caleb’s voice has softened, and he looks at her beseechingly.“They’re offering a month-long crash camp this summer. A lot of the students that go have better chances of making it into the program. There’s one slot left. Can I please go?”

There it was. That’s what he’d been hiding. A month. Without Caleb. Silently, you resume unpacking the groceries, turning your back to Caleb as you do so. Josephine’s face was lined with delight. 

“Oh, Caleb! I’m so happy you’ve figured this out. Of course, you can go!” She rises from her seat and makes her way to Caleb who slips off the counter to hug her. She barely came up to his waist but she’s brimming with pride. 

“Go fill out the application before someone else gets it! Go!” She slapped him on the back and Caleb, looking like he’d just been told he’d won the lottery, sprinted back upstairs. Silence fills the small kitchen. Pretending to act normal, you start gathering ingredients to prepare dinner.

“Annoying loser.” You mutter under your breath. “He hasn’t even offered to help cook dinner the last few days.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn to see Josephine standing right behind you. 

“It’s ok to be upset.”

“I’m not upset.” You start washing the potatoes at the sink. Josephine sighs, then wraps her arms around your waist, giving you a gentle hug.

“Take your time. You know where to find me if you want to talk.” The woman hobbles out of the kitchen, and you put the washed potatoes on a cutting board. Your hand trembles as you pick up the knife, and the backs of your eyes feel hot and prickly. You didn’t understand why you felt like this. It was just a month. Caleb hadn’t applied for college yet. And even if he ended up at Deepspace Aviation it wasn’t too far away. But why did you feel like you were being left behind? Like everyone had their future planned but you? And none of their plans seemed to involve you at all?

You angle your knife to slice the potatoes, then let out a frustrated huff; memories of being a little girl, while Caleb held your hand in his as he taught you how to quickly dice your vegetables, patting your head with praise as he did so. You weren’t quite sure why potatoes were making you feel this way. Unbidden, a tear rolls down your cheek and you dash it away with your finger.

“Didn’t even offer to help with dinner.” More tears stream down your face and you let out a quiet sob. 

“There’s no one to help me make dinner.”

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“C’mon pipsqueak, at least say goodbye to me!” 

Caleb was standing at the door, ready to leave for camp. You stood, arms crossed, refusing to speak to him. Josephine softly gives you a push.

“Go on now. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“No, I won’t. Besides he’ll be back in a month. It’s not like he’s staying there forever. Like they’d let him. They’ll probably call us begging to to take him back within a week.” Your snarky attitude hadn’t improved since he’d announced his acceptance. 

Josephine looks at Caleb and shakes her head helplessly. She’d attempted to ameliorate your temper for the last 2 weeks and had gotten nowhere. You had avoided Caleb altogether, even when he’d come knocking on your door to talk. There was a vindictive satisfaction in knowing that your ignoring him was bothering him. A little taste of his own medicine. Didn’t feel so good to be shut off from your best friend now, did it? The thought made your lip curl even as your stomach churned from the knowledge that you would be by yourself for the next month. 

Caleb checks his watch and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m getting late. Pipsqueak please.” Caleb opens his arms, giving you the most apologetic look he could muster. “Come say goodbye.”

You stood firm, even though every fiber in your being was burning to leap into his arms and hug him tight. 

“The bus won’t wait forever.” Caleb quickly strides towards you and before you can step away he’s wrapped his arms around you, and you’re stuck in his embrace. Tears form in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Your arms remain stiff at your sides even as Caleb continues to hunch, silently bidding you farewell. When he finally lets go, he ruffles your hair. “I’ll see you next month. You can always reach me on my phone.” With a final wave, Caleb sprints out the door to board the bus.

You spend the day coming up with various ways to kill the time but nothing works. Video games felt lackluster and your mind refused to engage with the book you tried reading. For dinner, Josephine ordered burgers from your favorite restaurant to try and cheer you up. You sat quietly, unable to savor the food. Finally, before bedtime, you cave. Anything was better than this crushing, empty feeling in your stomach. You walk into Caleb’s room, and curl up under his quilt, inhaling the familiar scent. It was hard to believe he had been there just a few hours earlier, and you hugged his pillow, regretting your earlier actions. You pull out your phone and make a video call.

“Pipsqueak! Miss me already?” Caleb grins widely at you. The background is filled with activity, filled with high school students wandering around and acquainting themselves. 

“Shut up.” You say but your voice quivers. “Caleb I’m sorry.”

Caleb’s eyes soften. “It’s ok. You don’t have to be.”

“But I was so mean to you.”

“Yeah, you were. But what can I say? How can I be mad at my family?” His words break the shield you’d built around yourself and you sniffle, letting the tears fall. 

“Please don’t cry all over my pillow. It’ll get soggy.” Caleb tries to joke but your tears are eating away at him. He knew what this would do to you, which is why he hadn’t told you his plans before they were solid. “I’ll be back before you know it. Be good for grandma ok?”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “I miss you, Caleb.”

“I miss you too. Please don’t be miserable the whole time I’m gone. Try to focus on things important to you too. Maybe make your list of colleges.”

“Yeah. I will.” You wipe away your tears. “Will you make dumplings for me when you come back?”

“Is that all I was good for?” Caleb asks in an offended tone but he’s grinning. “Yeah I will. I promise. Now go to sleep.”

He hangs up and you find the knot in your heart has loosened slightly. Caleb was right. You needed to focus on you. You turn over and are about to go to sleep when a text lights up your screen.

“Ice cream tomorrow?”

It was from Zayne. You smile. They’d never really leave you all alone. You text him a yes and fall asleep contentedly.

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“How are you feeling with Caleb gone?”

You’re seated across from Zayne with a huge banana split sitting on the table between you. You twirl the spoon between your fingers, thinking.

“It’s strange. I miss him of course. The house feels empty.” You sample some of the ice cream. “It’s even emptier without you.”

Zayne looks guilty as he also takes a bite of the sundae. “I’m sorry. I know it must seem strange given how much time we all spent together. Believe me, if I had known Caleb wasn’t going to be here I would have put in more effort to check in on you.”

“It’s not your fault.” You lay down your spoon, contemplating. Zayne cocks his head.

“Something on your mind?”

You twitch your mouth to the side and try to explain. “Well, I recently realized I seem to have a problem with being by myself. And I’m trying to change that.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because. It’s illogical for me to think I’ll always have you or Caleb or grandma around. I know a lot of it stems from losing my parents. But I can’t be this way every time I have to be away from you guys.” You stab the spoon into the mound of whipped cream at the top of the ice cream. “We’re all going to college next year, and we might go months without seeing each other. I’m trying to be more independent and in control of my feelings. Otherwise, how am I supposed to survive?”

Zayne nods emphatically as you speak. “That’s a very rational way of thinking. However, I don’t think I can fault you for not wanting any of us to move away.”

“Really?” You carefully fish out a cherry from the top of one of the ice cream scoops. 

“Of course. It’s natural to want to stay close to the people who have been a constant in your life.” Zayne glances away from you before continuing. “My parents are doctors. They’re busy most of the time. I work around their schedule. But I’m always more relaxed when one of them is at home. It’s natural to want to be around one’s family. Your feelings are completely natural.”

You let out a breath and laugh. “Well geez Dr. Zayne,” you tease. “Thank you for the psychological assessment.” 

“Anytime.” He offers you a wry smile. “But I think it’s good you’re taking the initiative to adapt. The most successful people aren’t the smartest, but the most adaptable.”

“Oh? So am I smarter than you?”

“Hardly,” Zayne smirks as you pout, “I happen to be both.”

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Now here you were, senior year finished, the summer that you had hoped would take its time in arriving sitting at your doorstep like a lost puppy begging to be let in. You had opened a window and a cool breeze was blowing past your face. You look out at the neighborhood of Bloomshore, remembering how intimidating it had looked when you first moved here, and now how you could never imagine leaving.

Zayne had returned from his road trip the past summer with a million photos and tales from each city he had visited with his parents. He’d brought back snacks and small trinkets from each place, and every few days, you’d find a postcard from him in the mailbox. You’d saved each one and put them away into a little keepsake box. When he had finally come over after his trip, Josephine had almost giggled herself silly because Zayne had tanned so much during his absence; a lighter ring had formed around his eyes like a raccoon where the sunglasses had perched. You’d laughed when you saw him, and Zayne had merely shook his head in exasperation. 

Caleb had returned from camp with a whole new attitude towards his future. He seemed more confident, and couldn’t stop talking about engines and how being in a cockpit felt.  Being the extrovert he was, he’d also come back with many new friends, some of whom lived just a few blocks from your house. You had initially disliked these new friends because it intensified the feeling that you had been replaced. Until one of them had mentioned that Caleb always looked at your picture before he fell asleep at night. Caleb had acted nonchalant but a dusting of pink had appeared on his face at the remark. 

As you had predicted, Zayne had settled on and formally accepted an offer from one of the colleges. He had decided to attend a prestigious medical university at Snowcrest, a city that you knew was near the Arctic, frigidly cold, with short and mild summers. Although not impossibly far, it was still a long journey to reach Snowcrest, and you had felt some of the hope that was in your chest being crushed. Reminding yourself that you were trying to become a more assertive, independent woman, you had heartily congratulated Zayne while Caleb had teased that it was because Zayne would melt if he continued living in the temperate climate of Linkon City. 

Caleb had immediately applied for the program at Deepspace Aviation Administration after coming back and was accepted into their engineering program, news he had received over winter break. You could still remember him dancing around his pajamas early in the morning after reading the email on his phone. He’d barged into your room, startling you from your deep slumber, and scooped you out of bed, spinning you around in his arms as he exuberantly announced his acceptance. Josephine had woken up from the ruckus, making her way up the stairs to investigate, and when she had reached your room, Caleb had tossed you back on your bed before picking up Josephine too, giving a quick circle that lifted her off her feet before carefully putting her back down. They found him baking shortly after; Caleb baked when he was happy. 

Although you had applied to your fair share of colleges, you didn’t hear back until spring, and you had sighed in relief when you saw the acceptance letter from Linkon University. It was exactly as you’d hoped. Even though Caleb would need to move to Skyhaven, it was still closer than Snowcrest, meaning you could see him every month if you wanted to. 

There was still time before everyone went their separate ways. You knew that yet it felt like time had fallen into a strange vacuum where nothing was happening yet everything was happening all at once. Sometimes your pulse started to skyrocket for no reason at all. Thinking about college made you anxious just as it made you excited. New people, new challenges, the classes, getting lost on campus, all these thoughts swirled in your head like a snow globe being violently shaken. 

You knew you’d make friends but there was a pang at the thought of not seeing your best friends. Suddenly it felt like you had taken all these past years for granted. You found yourself reminiscing over small aspects of your friendships with both boys. Like the time you’d turned down Zayne to go to the movies because it was a documentary, or when Caleb had asked for help to paint a model airplane and you’d refused because it was the third model that week. These minor indiscretions now felt like heavy bags of guilt weighing on your conscious. 

Perhaps this is why you were all being separated now, you think self-deprecatingly. You had always thought you had forever with them and hadn’t spent enough time with them when they’d asked you. Now you didn’t know when you’d see them next. 

A knock on your door disrupts your thoughts and you turn to see Caleb standing there. 

“Ready to go?”

“Where?” you ask blankly.

Caleb gives you a questioning look. “To Zayne’s house. He got that new game and asked us to come over remember?”

It takes you a moment to recall, then you put a hand to your forehead. “Yeah, that’s right. I forgot.” You look down at your clothes and decide it’s not worth changing. It was hot outside, and it was Zayne’s house; he’d seen you in rattier things than the denim shorts and T-shirt you were currently wearing. You follow Caleb out of the house, the summer breeze whipping your faces as you walk. Caleb seemed content to walk in silence and after a few yards, you catch hold of his wrist, slowing down his pace.

“Everything ok?” He peers down at you and you nod yes. 

“Caleb. I’m sorry for all those times I refused to paint model airplanes with you.”

“What?” There’s levity in Caleb’s voice. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about those model airplanes you built. You asked me to paint them with you and I always found excuses to avoid it. And now I don’t know when we’ll do something like that again.”

Understanding fills Caleb’s expression and he frees his wrist so he can drape his arm over your shoulders. “You’re thinking too much again.”

“Am not.”

“Sure you are. We’re officially done with high school. You’ve been tweaking out about this since last year. How many times do I have to tell you, it’s going to be ok. And it’s not like we’re depending on carrier pigeons to communicate. Text me, call me, a million times a day if you want to. I’ll always reply.”

The feeling of his warm arm on the back of your neck makes you want to pull him into a hug right now. Caleb and Zayne were so different than most boys their age. Neither of them made you regret expressing vulnerability in front of them. You wondered if they would meet someone when they went to college. Zayne would probably get swept off his feet by another medical student. And Caleb…Caleb exuded such candid energy that girls were always drawn to him. The thought made you uncomfortable for some reason and you push it out of your head.

“If this apologizing thing is gonna continue, then please don’t apologize to Zayne for that day I used my evol to hurl snowballs at him through his window.” 

You burst out laughing at the memory, Caleb’s gravity control effortlessly pitching snowballs into Zayne’s room while you kept watch for the grown-ups. “We ended up drenching his sheets that day,” you say in a sober voice. “I do feel kind of bad now.”

“What’s a little prank between friends hmm pipsqueak? Like that time Zayne and I let that possum into your room.”

“That was you two?!” You jerk back and Caleb doubles over, cackling. “I screamed so loudly that the poor possum keeled over playing dead! But I thought it had really died and I had killed it! Grandma had to put it outside and then showed me how it got up before I stopped crying!” 

Caleb had tears in his eyes as you indignantly frowned at him. “I hate you,” you muttered and continued down the road towards Zayne’s house. Caleb jogs to catch up with you.

“You don’t hate us pipsqueak. You’re going to remember all of this and be reminded that, despite everything, you had a good childhood.” Caleb puts his hand on your head. “I know I will.”

You roll your eyes and keep quiet but know that he was right. 

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

Several rounds of Mario Kart later, the three of you are sprawled out on the floor in Zayne’s room. Both his parents were on-call that night and were working at the hospital. 

“There’s pizza for dinner,” Zayne says lazily as he gazes at the last few rays of the disappearing sun. Although it was well past dinner time, none of you felt hungry. There was something sweet about the calmness of this moment, and no one seemed willing to break it to go down to the kitchen. You’re in between both boys staring at the ceiling fan which was rotating in a hypnotizingly soothing way. The soft whir of the blades was making you drowsy. 

“When I was at camp, there were helicopters with blades like 50 times that size. The military choppers are huge.” Caleb says in a relaxed voice. “Can’t believe I’m going to be piloting those things in my third year.”

“Third year? Not after you graduate?” Zayne asks as the sunlight reflects in his amber-green eyes. 

“Nah. They start showing us flight basics in the third year. That way we can take the exam in the final year and we’re good to fly right after graduation.”

Zayne hums contemplatingly at the explanation.

“I’m guessing you won’t perform your first operation for another 10 years or so right?” you ask, enjoying the camaraderie. 

“They start you off with simple procedures that are low risk. But I want to be a cardiologist. Ten years might not be a bad estimate.” Zayne turns onto his side so that he can look at you. “Do you know what you want to do after graduating college?”

“I just graduated high school. I’ll figure it out along the way. Not everyone has answers about their long-term careers like you guys do.” Zayne gives you a small smile and you chuckle. 

“Do you guys remember the summer right after I first moved in?”

“Yeah. We were 6 years old. Why?” Zayne asks. 

“Remember I wanted it to snow because it was too hot at the time?”

“Oh yeah. Zayne and I came up with a little trick there didn’t we?” Caleb also rolls to his side and props himself on his elbow. Fondness is etched all over his face at the memory.

“I think I’ll tell that story everywhere I go.” You gaze nostalgically at the ceiling. “My two best friends literally made it snow for me.”

“It was the first time we tested our evols together,” Zayne says reminiscingly. He looks over at Caleb. “Want to do it again?”

“What do you think pipsqueak? Will it make you happy?”

You close your eyes. “It would. If you don’t mind snowflakes falling all over your carpet Zayne.”

“The heat should melt them before they touch the floor.”

The two boys look at each other, and then Zayne extends his palms toward the ceiling. Soft flakes of snow start to form on his palms, and then Caleb points a finger toward Zayne. The snowflakes lose their gravity, delicately floating into the air, and dancing near the ceiling. Both of them hold their evol until the air is filled with them.

“Ready?” Caleb asks, and you can feel joy radiating from him. 

“Ready!”

Caleb disengages his evol and the snowflakes make their way back to earth, melting away as they do so. Even at this age, it was still magical, and you feel a sudden constriction in your throat.

“I’ll miss you guys,” you murmur, then hold their hands as the remaining snow starts to fall around the three of you. 

“We’ll do this for you whenever we meet,” Zayne says solemnly, observing your expression. You sniff and smile, your eyes overbright. You turn and find yourself face-to-face with Zayne. You hadn’t realized he was so close, and you can see the surprise in his eyes. The world seems to stop spinning, frozen in the moment. In the blink of an eye, without thinking, you lean forward and clumsily press your lips to Zayne’s. 

You weren’t sure what you were thinking, but all you knew was that words weren’t enough to describe how much you’d miss him. When you lean back, Zayne’s eyes are wide but he doesn’t look displeased. You reach out to pat his cheek.

“I’ll miss you.”

You hear shuffling on the carpet and suddenly feel warmth against your back as Caleb presses his body against yours. This wasn’t an alien reaction to you; You and Caleb cuddled all the time, even slept in the same bed from time to time since you were kids. But somehow, his breath on the back of your neck was telling you this was different. You feel Caleb’s lips press a soft kiss to your nape and you jerk at the sensation, trying to look at him over your shoulder.

“I’ll miss you too my little one,” Caleb whispers, tipping your face to his by your chin. Enamored by the tenderness of his gaze, you allow him to give you a chaste kiss, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

Your heart races as you become aware that you are sandwiched between Caleb and Zayne, and neither one is moving away. Instead, strong arms, one from each of them, come over your waist, effectively holding you into place.

“Are you ok with this?” Zayne murmurs into your ear. “Us showing you that we’ll miss you?” Your eyes squeeze closed as you realize you have just experienced your first kiss. Correction. Kisses. Your face turns red under their watchful gazes but right now, you were consumed with the idea of being in this moment for as long as you could.

“Yes.” You whisper the word out loud. 

Hearing your breathless consent, both of them move impossibly closer, and you gasp as you feel Caleb softly kiss your ear. “Tell us if you want to stop.” His warm breath tickles the sensitive skin and you squirm. 

 Zayne strokes your arm and it sends tingles down your spine. You feel yourself going light-headed at their touch. They feel safe, and your mind enters into a state of connection. You can hear their heartbeats, the low, masculine sighs welling up from their throats as their hands gently explore the contours of your body over your clothes. 

Your legs were the most exposed part of you, the shorts having ridden up from all the movement playing video games, and rolling around on the carpet. It’s Zayne who boldly touches your knee first, sending a jitter of electricity up into your core. The blood rushes to your ears, and you almost jump as Caleb chuckles before sinking his teeth into one of the lobes. The little nip was unfamiliar, but it felt good and your hand grips the front of Zayne’s T-shirt as the minor sting passes.

“Are you feeling hot?” Caleb moves some hair away from your shoulder to kiss and lick the crook of your neck. “Your ears are so red right now.” His words cause you to flush. Your skin felt uncomfortably warm, and your heart was pounding inside your chest as their hands stroked every inch of you. A strange throb was beginning to make itself present between your legs now; it was in time to your heartbeat, as though your sex had developed a rapid pulse of its own. You move to try and get comfortable and your panties chafe against your folds. 

“What is it? Zayne sneaks his hand over your waist and onto your back, his head leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I feel…” your voice trails as you struggle to find words to describe it. “Light. But also…strained? Like I’m hot everywhere. And tingly.” You knew you must have sounded ridiculous but Zayne gives a comforting pat on the small of your back. 

“Arousal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair away from your face. “All the signs point to that. According to my pre-med textbooks anyway.” 

“Oh…” 

Arousal. 

You’d learned that word in biology but you had never thought about what the implications of it would be in the real world. Zayne peppers your face with small kisses and your eyes flutter shut as they reach your cheeks, your chin, the tip of your nose, and then finally your lips. He hovers uncertainly for a second before he does so, and it feels like a little light has been ignited inside of you. His lips were soft, warm, and unparted. Gaining courage, and your curiosity getting the better of you, you open your mouth and hear a groan issue from Zayne. Experimentally you give him your tongue, exploring the crevices of his mouth, and feel a delicious, liquidy pull, in your lower abdomen. Excitement pulses through your body as Zayne’s tongue timidly touches yours, participating in the erotic dance as you kiss. 

Caleb has now left kisses all over your neck and shoulders, and you can feel his hands starting to grow mischievous and he walks them along the front of your collarbone, starting to stroke down on the swells of flesh under your Tshirt but not daring to cup them completely.

You and Zayne part and his eyes are smoldering, green embers growing in the irises. “I don’t want to continue this on the floor.” 

Your brain is in a haze and it takes a second for you to register what he had said, and you hasten to move, but are prevented from doing so as Caleb hooks his arms under your upper body, and Zayne gently cradles your legs from the knees below. They lovingly move you to the bed and resume their positions on either side of you.

The softness of the bed is alluring, and all of you sink into it, you feel their hands flirting with the edge of your T-shirt. Feeling shy, you glance up at them and raise your arms. Taking your cue, Zayne pulls off the garment, then he and Caleb follow suit, discarding their shirts with yours. You drink in the sight of their bare upper bodies. You had seen them half-naked before when you’d gone to the pool and the beach with them, seen their bodies wet with water and sweat. But the longing and hunger in their eyes as they looked at you made it feel like you were seeing them differently; now as men rather than childhood companions. 

Goosebumps form over your skin as your upper half is exposed to them, and you tentatively reach out to put a hand on each of their chests. They tremble at your touch, and the knowledge emboldens you, knowing they were as affected by you as you were by them. The direct skin-on-skin contact was soothing, their warm, firm bodies pressing up against your softness. Caleb traces a finger along the inner crease of your cleavage, then looks at you for permission. You nod, curving towards him so he can unhook your bra. A mixture of nervous excitement fills you as the small piece of fabric slips off your body and you quickly cling to Caleb, hiding your breasts from view. 

He strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s ok my little one. I’m sure you’re beautiful.” 

You feel a persistent ache in your breasts and press up against Caleb’s hard chest, surprised at how the ache lessens as you do so. Caleb lets out a low, guttural groan, and at the same time, Zayne closes in to kiss down your back, licking random little lines on your skin that have you pressing deeper into Caleb’s body. You gasp and wriggle in surprise as Zayne bites down on the curve of your waist, then soothes the bite with his thumb.

“Won’t you let us see you?” Zayne’s deep voice requests you, and feeling like you’d burst into flames from the embarrassment, you finally let go of Caleb and lie back on the bed, covering your eyes with your hands as you do so. You hear their collective breaths being drawn as they take in the view of your soft breasts, the nipples hard from their affections. 

“How cute,” you hear Caleb growl. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your breasts being cupped and squeezed, and then suddenly, light floods your vision as Caleb tugs your hand away from your eyes.

“Aw look at you. You’re blushing.” He teases but it’s said with gentleness. Zayne watches your expressions intently, and you let out a moan of pleasure as they continue to play with your breasts. 

“Are you enjoying it?” Zayne’s voice cuts through the buzz in your head and you nod, a heady twirl of sensation shooting up your spine. Your toes curl into the mattress as they mindfully pull your nipples, feeling your arousal grow as they do so. You nod breathlessly at Zayne’s question and feel an urgent pulsing between your legs. You’re desperate to touch and relieve yourself. You were no stranger to pleasuring yourself after all but could you do it with these two watching?

The thought sends an arrow of lust straight into the deepest depths of your core. You’re about to speak up but all that comes out is a noise of desire as Caleb licks your nipple, savoring the taste of your skin before suckling the little bud into his mouth. Zayne repeats the action on the other side and you feel like you can’t catch your breath, each soft suck sending you into a dizzying spiral. You feel like nothing is solid under you like you’re floating on a cloud, where the only thing that existed was the sweet stimulation of their mouths on your body. You try to discreetly rub your aching clit against your panties, the barely there friction making you feel like you might go insane. 

You shiver as Caleb releases your moistened peak, caressing your hair and kissing his way down to your navel. Both their large hands stroke the length of your legs, intensifying the need building inside your core. Your nails sink into the covers as you quiver under their touch. 

“Feeling ok?” Zayne cups your cheek as he notices your tension. You crack your eyes open and nod.

“I feel hot. I need…I need to…” You blush as you try to form the words.

“What?” Caleb prompts you and moves back up to take your hands, stroking your palms. “Tell us.”

I need…more…” you manage to say, then gasp as Zayne ghosts your belly button before his hand dips below the waistband of your shorts. Your breath hitches as he strokes the soaked gusset of your panties, just a few inches shy of your clit.

“Show us.” Caleb catches your lips in an unexpected kiss. 

Zayne’s hand withdraws and he slides down your shorts over your legs, little ripples of electricity running through your body as he does so. 

“You’re so wet.” Caleb’s voice is laced with arousal as he moves toward your feet and sees the patch of moisture on your panties.

“It’s natural,” Zayne reassures you and squeezes your hand and you nod, your embarrassment giving away to your instincts. Your hips raise slightly as Caleb removes your panties, displaying your swollen sex to their eyes. Zayne moves next to Caleb as you part your legs, and take a finger into your leaking core, drawing up the slick towards your clit. Whimpers leave you as you stroke light circles onto the swollen bud. 

“That’s so hot,” Caleb says as he watches the erotic view in front of him. Zayne quietly observes you for a few minutes, then you feel a jolt burst through you as he reaches his fingers into your drenched folds and copies your moves.

“Like this?” 

“Y-Yes…” you whisper breathlessly, your legs parting shamelessly to allow him better access. The pads of his fingertips were gentle, and the sensation of someone else touching you was so starkly different from when you did it. The air becomes balmy, and you writhe passionately under his gentle ministrations.

“Such a good girl for us.” Caleb strokes your thighs and you moan as your hips roll, trying to reap all the pleasure you can get. Your feet plant into the mattress and suddenly, you feel a different set of fingers, a little thicker than Zayne’s, softly probing at the wetness of your core. 

“Breathe for me baby girl.” You hear Caleb’s encouragement and breathe deeply as he inserts his fingers into you. It was done carefully but you were already lucidly wet and his fingers sink in with ease. Your moans start to keen as Caleb slowly strokes your inner walls, his movements uncertain but soft as he watches your face for discomfort. Zayne continues circling your clit and the sensations from both of them were driving you mad.

You feel yourself clench, your body tensing under their tender ministrations, pleasurable mewls filling the air as they work your body to the edge. The separate sensations were unlike anything you could have ever imagined in your wildest fantasies. Even when you’d touched yourself before, you’d imagined a faceless stranger. But now with these two, it was even more heady than you could imagine.

“Don’t stop.” You pant as you feel your body tip into the abyss. They don’t relent and keep up the pace and your eyes squeeze closed in ecstasy as an orgasm builds and explodes inside you. Your body quakes from the pulses of delight flowing through you and your sobs fill the quiet bedroom as you fall apart, a puddle of tangled, sensual desire.

“How was it?” Your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath and you see Caleb curiously lick at his fingers, tasting the fluid collected from your body. The sight was so lewd and yet arousing, and you can’t help but stare as he cleans up his digits.

“Good it was…good.” 

Caleb turns away and you see him fiddling with the fabric of his sweats and something clicks in your head. “Are you both…?”

You glance down and Zayne doesn’t try to hide it, but he averts his eyes shyly as you see the hard bulge in his shorts. Slowly, you roll over and crawl over to them. “Can I see?” you ask curiously, and a nervous glance flashes over their faces before they oblige. Your eyes widen as their cocks spring free of their confines, thick, veiny, and pulsing with heat. 

Your hands move automatically, reaching out to stroke them, and both of them hiss at your touch, your small, soft hands already pushing their inexperienced bodies toward the edge of bliss. You’re surprised at the firmness, and the velvety the skin was stretched over their arousals. Growing bold, you give a slight squeeze, and both of them groan, the noises heavy with want.

It emboldens you, hearing the desperation in their voices, seeing the way drops of pearlescent fluid start to form in their slits. Your mind craved to know what they tasted like, how their desire might feel on your tongue. Leaning forward, you cautiously taste Caleb first. His abdomen tightens, a low moan escaping from him and he grips the covers.

“Ca-careful…” he says in a trembling voice. You hear the thin restraint in his words and repeat the action on Zayne, tongue darting out to sample him. Zayne lets out a huff followed by what sounded like a snarl. 

Drunk with the power you held over them, you continued to test their boundaries, sampling, sucking, giving soft kitten licks, never taking more than a few inches of them into your mouth at a time. Their patience was wearing thin and their eyes had a primal haze to them when you dared to look up.

Caleb jerks you away from him, momentarily stunning you before you’re wrapped up in his strong arms, and he pins you underneath him, his erection grazing your thigh as he does so. His body was like a furnace and you nuzzle your face into his chest, his heart beating like a caged bird in his chest. He moans as he pushes his hips against you, trying to soothe the ache in his cock. 

Zayne shifts towards your head, his facade of control slipping as lust pours into his system. You reach out a hand to stroke him again and he bites his lip, eyes fluttering closed. 

“I think…I’m ready,” you say quietly and 2 pairs of eyes fixate on you.

“Are you sure?” Caleb’s tone is ragged as he tries to control himself from being selfish. 

You nod and stroke his hair with your free hand. “I’m positive. With you two…I’m not scared.”

Caleb laughs nervously. “Got us all wired up here baby girl. You think this is something I have practice with?”

You sense his insecurity and murmur, “It doesn’t really matter.” 

Caleb takes a deep breath, then moves, your legs spreading apart as he adjusts, grabbing his cock and probing around near your entrance. You tense slightly and feel Zayne move so that he can put your head on his lap. He strokes your face, then leans down to kiss you, easing your worries, and you feel your core flutter in anticipation.

Caleb finally notches in, and he pushes with care, pausing as he hears a muffled gasp escape from you, spilling into Zayne’s mouth. The sensation was strange, it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as you thought it would, but it wasn’t the most comfortable either. It felt like unused muscles were being stretched inside you, then suddenly…you were split apart and he was there, filling an unfamiliar cavern that had been untouched all these years.

“Fuck…” he hisses as he feels the tightness of your walls, the wet clench of them around his cock. Caleb’s movements are shaky as he soaks in the glorious feeling of your body, not daring to push too far in for fear of losing control. Your eyes are clouding over as you gaze up at Zayne’s face, your body rocking with each of Caleb’s thrusts. You moan loudly as he dares to bottom out once, then he quickly pulls out, his breathing shallow. 

“I can’t…Not in you…” he mumbles, then starts to pump himself in his hand. You cup Zayne’s cheek, and understanding, he moves carefully between your legs. He kisses your pubic bone, and like Caleb, strokes himself before using his hand to guide himself inside you. You were prepared for the sensation this time but marveled at how different Zayne felt inside you compared to Caleb. Your pussy stretches and accommodates him easily, the muscles relaxed and loose as he enters. 

Zayne brushes away hair from your face, his movements tender like Caleb’s and just as inexperienced. To you, however, they felt amazing, and you’re in awe of the human body, the way it could feel and bask in these sweet feelings and touches. Zayne’s breath grows ragged with each passing thrust and all too soon, he’s pulling out as well.

The sight of both them pumping their lengths, of knowing you put them in this frenzied sexual haze, stroked your ego. Caleb lets go first, his nose scrunching up in pleasure as he releases his load, the warm sticky fluid splattering on your belly as it happens. Zayne follows not too long after, jets of seed spilling out of his swollen tip to join Caleb’s.

The rest of the night was a blur. You remember being carried to the shower, by which one, you couldn't remember. They had washed you, murmuring how you’d be their girl forever. After helping you dry off, Zayne had lent you a change of clothes, and you fallen asleep wearing his hoodie and shorts, both of which were baggy and loose. It was past midnight when Caleb had roused you, reminding you that you needed to get back to Grandma’s house. He packed your clothes into a plastic bag, and after you had hugged and kissed Zayne goodnight one more time, he’d held your hand on the way home. Once back at your own home, Caleb had led you to his bed, and held you snugly against him as you fell asleep once more.

It was the perfect ending to the summer. You felt deeply content and sighed against Caleb’s chest. It was rare to find one person that loved you so wholly but two? That was nothing short of a miracle.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

~End Flashback~

The group of women were gazing at you in wonder, their cheeks flushed as the wine they’d been sipping intoxicated their system. Tara’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. 

“And?” she prompts in an awed hush as you conclude your story.

“And what?”

“Don’t play dumb!” Tara pouts. “Where are they? Are you guys…in a poly situation?” Shr grins slyly.

Her question makes your heart twist painfully. Trying to keep your composure, you finish the rest of your wine. Taking a deep breath, you say the final, painful, part of the story. 

“My grandma’s house was blown up during the attack on Bloomshore district last year.”

Tara’s eyes change from teasing to horrified. “I’m so sorry!” She covers her mouth as the rest of the group becomes somber at your admission. 

“My grandma and Caleb didn’t survive the blast.” Your voice trembles.

“And…Zayne?” Tara’s voice is hushed.

“Zayne and I lost touch. He used to send letters regularly then, his last one to me, stated that he’d been asked to be part of a research program for developing a cure for Protocore Syndrome. It was some sort of high-clearance project, privately funded. He stopped writing after that.”

“No!” Tara looks absolutely beside herself. “So Zayne is alive…but you don’t know where he is?”

You shake your head no and excuse yourself, escaping to the balcony. None of the women follow you and you’re grateful for the moment of privacy. The night wind whips your hair and you breathe it in, the air feeling fortifying despite the chill. 

The seasons might change, but to you, they’re all the same. In your mind, you’re stuck in a perpetual state of summer, the memories of your two lovers echoing through your mind. 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

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[cceana]

Arcane Highschool!AU

characters - vi, caitlyn, jinx, sevika, ekko, jayce and viktor content - 7.1k words, cliche highschool tropes, gn!reader, just pure fluff also a little reverse comfort

A/N this was so fun to do, cant believe i finished this in 1 day ahahahahhaah. this is my longest work yet so hopefully you guys enjoy it <3

— Star Athlete!vi and Band!reader

You’ve spent most of your high school life flying under the radar as the band’s flute player—quiet, responsible, and perfectly content in your niche. Your days revolve around early-morning rehearsals, sheet music, and the steady rhythm of practice. It’s predictable, comfortable.

That is, until the school’s star athlete, Vi, always in whispers and cheers, bursts into your life like an unrelenting storm.

Shes everything you’re not—loud, brash, impulsive, and dangerously confident. The type who winks at the crowd after scoring the winning goal, whose swagger fills the halls, and who’s constantly making headlines for their fiery outbursts on and off the field. You’ve heard the stories: the scuffle at last week’s game, the heated argument with the coach, the rumors of detention slips piling up.

You’d barely exchanged more than a few words with her, but that changes when the school decides to host a collaborative pep rally—complete with a showstopping performance featuring both the sports teams and the band.

When the coach volunteers them to help promote school spirit by playing a surprise number with the band, you’re horrified. So is she.

“I don’t have time for this,” she scoff when she gets dragged to the band room. “Why don’t you all just play louder or something?”

Your teacher assigns you the unenviable task of teaching them how to play an instrument. You can practically hear your friends giggling behind your back as you pull them aside, thrusting a trumpet into their hands.

Vi groans, slouching in her chair like a bored kid in detention. “What’s the point of this? Everyone’s here to watch me win, not play this stupid thing.”

You bristle at their cocky tone. “Well, if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the entire school, I suggest you try.”

VI then gives you a smirk, leaning in just a little too close. “Oh, you think I can’t do it? I’m good at everything.”

It turns out, she's not.

The first few lessons are a disaster. She blow into the trumpet like she's trying to blow out a candle from across the room, their fingers fumble over the valves, and she keep snapping, “This thing is broken!” every time it makes a screeching noise.

But underneath all the bravado and eye-rolls, you start to notice something. The way she glares at the trumpet when she messes up isn’t just frustration—it’s determination. she hates failing, and she hates it even more that they’re bad at this.

“I’m not giving up,” Vi declares after her third failed attempt to hit a note. “I’m not letting some dumb piece of metal beat me.”

The more you work together, the more cracks appear in their tough exterior. she's fiercely competitive, yes, but also surprisingly quick to laugh at themselves when the trumpet sputters out the wrong notes. Her cocky grin softens when you praise even her smallest improvement, and she starts showing up to practice earlier than you do.

One afternoon, as you’re packing up your sheet music, you catch them staring at the band photo on the wall. “You guys practice this much all the time?” Vi asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Yeah,” you say, surprised. “It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

she nod slowly, her usual swagger replaced by something contemplative. “Never thought about it like that. I guess… it’s kind of like training, huh?”

That’s when you realize she's not as invincible as she seem. Behind the hot-headed confidence is someone who works just as hard as you do, who’s just as passionate about what they love—even if they show it in a completely different way.

And when the pep rally finally arrives, with the gym packed to the rafters, she surprise's everyone—not just with how she learned to play, but with how she step aside during the performance to let the band take the spotlight.

Afterward, as the crowd cheers, she give you a lopsided grin. “Not bad, huh? Guess I’m pretty good at this whole teamwork thing.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide your smile.

The pep rally is over, and the gym is buzzing with energy as people file out, still cheering and talking about the unexpected performance. You’re gathering your things in the corner of the stage when you hear footsteps behind you.

“Hey,” she calls out, her voice softer than you’re used to.

You turn to find her standing there, holding her trumpet in one hand, the other rubbing awkwardly at the back of her neck. For once, her usual cocky smirk is nowhere to be seen, replaced by an expression that’s… almost nervous.

“Uh, so… you were pretty great out there,” she says, her eyes flickering between yours and the floor. “I mean, you’re always great, but, like, today—you really killed it.”

You blink, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thanks. You were pretty great too. You didn’t even mess up the solo.”

She laughs, a warm, genuine sound that makes your chest flutter. “Yeah, well, I had a good teacher. Guess I owe you for that.”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Maybe. But you did the work. I’m impressed, actually. Didn’t think you’d take it so seriously.”

She steps a little closer, her usual confidence creeping back into her voice. “Yeah? So, I impressed you?”

Your face heats up, and you roll your eyes to hide it. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” she teases, but her grin softens as her gaze lingers on you. For a moment, neither of you says anything. The noise of the gym fades into the background, and all you can hear is the faint hum of your own heartbeat.

She looks down at the trumpet in her hand, turning it over like she’s stalling. “You know… I used to think band stuff was just… background noise. Like, nobody really notices it. But being up there, seeing how much you guys put into it…”

Her voice trails off, and when she looks back at you, there’s something in her eyes that makes it hard to breathe. “It made me notice you more.”

Your breath catches. “Me?”

“Yeah.” She takes another step closer, so close now that you can feel the warmth radiating off her. “You’re not just some quiet band geek who hangs out in the background. You’re… amazing. And I’ve been an idiot for not seeing it sooner.”

You open your mouth to reply, but the words get stuck in your throat. She’s staring at you like you’re the only person in the world, and for the first time, you don’t feel small or invisible. You feel seen.

“I know I’ve been kind of… impossible,” she continues, her voice dropping lower. “But I don’t want to screw this up. So if I asked you to, I don’t know, grab milkshakes or something sometime… what would you say?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “I’d say… as long as you don’t try to play the trumpet during the date, I might say yes.”

Her laugh is loud and bright, and before you know it, she’s grinning down at you. “Deal.”

The gym lights flicker as the janitor starts cleaning up, and you realize you’ve been standing there for what feels like forever. But as she walks you out, her shoulder brushing against yours, you can’t help but think that maybe this impulsive, hot-headed star athlete isn’t so bad after all.

— Childhood Bestfriend!caitlyn

You and Caitlyn were inseparable once, two halves of the same whole. Summers were spent running through sun-drenched fields, plotting grand adventures, and swearing eternal friendship under the stars. But that was years ago, before her family moved away to chase bigger opportunities, and you were left behind with only memories of her bright laugh and unshakable confidence.

Life moved on, and so did you. By high school, she’d become little more than a bittersweet memory. Until now.

When she walks into your homeroom on the first day of senior year, it feels like the air’s been knocked out of you. She’s taller now, with an effortless grace that makes the room go quiet. Her uniform looks somehow sharper on her, her long, dark hair falling in perfect waves. There’s something in the way she carries herself—poised and self-assured, like she owns the world—and maybe she does.

Her family name has become a symbol of power and wealth. She’s been in the headlines, her achievements as a youth advocate already earning her a reputation as a fierce voice for justice. And yet, when her gaze scans the room and lands on you, her face lights up with the same brilliant smile you remember from childhood.

“Hey,” she says as she slides into the empty seat beside you, her voice low and familiar. “Long time no see.”

You’re too stunned to do anything but nod.

You quickly learn that she’s not just here for nostalgia—she’s here with a purpose. Between rigorous AP classes, she’s working on a project to bring awareness to systemic issues in your town. Meetings, interviews, and late nights at the library seem to be her norm, and it doesn’t take long for her to rope you into helping.

At first, it feels surreal being around her again. The girl you once knew has grown into someone so driven, so ambitious, that it’s almost intimidating. She seems untouchable, like a shooting star too far away to reach.

But every now and then, the cracks in her polished armor show. When it’s just the two of you poring over notes at your kitchen table, she leans back with a sigh and pulls her hair into a ponytail, muttering about how she wishes she had more time to breathe. And when you laugh at her frustrations, she throws a crumpled piece of paper at you, her grin wide and mischievous.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” she says one evening, her eyes soft as they meet yours. “Still the only person who can make me laugh when I want to scream.”

It’s during one of these late-night sessions that the air between you shifts. You’re sitting on the floor of her family’s impossibly grand living room, surrounded by papers and laptops. She’s wearing a sweatshirt that’s too big for her, a far cry from the polished image she presents to the world, and you can’t help but think about how beautiful she looks like this—unguarded and real.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she says, tilting her head to look at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” you lie, your heart racing under her gaze.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning closer. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying.”

You hesitate, your pulse hammering in your ears. “It’s just… I can’t believe you’re here. That after all these years, we’re… us again.”

Her expression softens, and she shifts closer until your knees are almost touching. “I’ve missed you too, you know,” she says quietly. “It’s been so hard, being away from everything I used to care about. From you.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and electric. You want to say something—anything—but the way she’s looking at you steals the breath from your lungs. Her dark eyes search yours, and for a moment, the world seems to still.

“Do you ever think about those nights we spent under the stars?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, swallowing hard. “All the time.”

“I do too,” she admits, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. Her touch is warm, grounding, and yet it sends a jolt through you. “Back then, I always thought we’d have forever. And when I left, I realized how much I hated being wrong about that.”

You’re not sure who moves first, but suddenly the space between you disappears. Her hand lingers on yours, her thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin, and you’re acutely aware of how close her face is to yours.

“Tell me if this is okay,” she murmurs, her voice trembling just slightly.

You nod, barely able to speak. “It’s more than okay.”

And then her lips are on yours, soft and hesitant at first, like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. But you don’t. You lean into her, your hand sliding up to tangle in her hair, and the kiss deepens—sweet and full of years’ worth of unspoken feelings.

When you finally pull back, she rests her forehead against yours, a breathless smile on her lips. “I’ve waited so long to do that,” she says, her voice tinged with relief.

“Me too,” you whisper, your heart soaring.

As the night stretches on, you realize that the girl you thought you’d lost has come back into your life, not as the same person she once was, but as someone even more extraordinary. And for the first time in years, the future doesn’t feel so uncertain—it feels full of possibilities, with her by your side.

— New kid!jinx and Class president!reader

You’ve worked hard to get where you are. Every meeting attended, every speech prepared, every carefully crafted decision—it’s all been for the sake of keeping order in the chaos of your high school. As class president, your name carries weight. You’re the dependable one, the one who keeps everything running smoothly, the one who always has things under control.

Until Jinx shows up.

The whispers start on her first day. The new girl. The one who doesn’t seem to care about blending in. She strides into the building like she owns it, her uniform already disheveled, her blazer slung over her shoulder, and a wild grin on her face.

It doesn’t take long for her reputation to spread. She’s unpredictable, impulsive, and utterly magnetic. Within a week, she’s already broken half the school’s rules, talked her way out of three detentions, and somehow charmed half your classmates in the process.

And for some reason, she’s decided you’re her favorite target.

It happens during lunch. You’re sitting at your usual spot, surrounded by student council members, going over plans for the upcoming fundraiser when she walks up to your table.

“Class president,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery and something else you can’t quite place. “Mind if I join you?”

You glance up, already annoyed. “I’m busy.”

She smirks, pulling out a chair anyway. “That’s cute. You think I was asking.”

Your friends exchange uneasy glances, but she doesn’t seem to care. She leans back in the chair, her sharp pink eyes locked on you, as if she’s trying to unravel you with her gaze alone.

“You’ve got a real stick-up-your-ass vibe,” she says casually, plucking an apple from the tray in front of her. “I like that. It makes messing with you way more fun.”

You glare at her, trying to keep your composure. “Do you need something, or are you just here to waste my time?”

Her grin widens, and for a moment, you see a flicker of something wild and untamed in her expression. “Maybe I just like watching you squirm.”

She becomes a constant in your life after that. You find her waiting outside your classroom, lounging against your locker, or casually walking into student council meetings as if she belongs there.

“Do you ever stop?” you snap one afternoon, cornering her in the hallway after she’s disrupted yet another meeting.

“Stop what?” she asks innocently, tilting her head.

“Whatever game you’re playing.”

She steps closer, and for the first time, you notice just how intense her gaze is. “Who says it’s a game? Maybe I just like you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and electric, and before you can respond, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving you standing there, utterly baffled.

It’s not until much later that you start to see the cracks in her chaotic facade. One night, you find her sitting alone in the empty music room, the piano keys beneath her fingers. She’s not playing, just pressing random notes, her usual manic energy replaced by a quiet stillness.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say, stepping into the room.

She doesn’t look up. “Neither should you.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I bet you think I’m crazy.”

You hesitate, caught off guard by the vulnerability in her voice. “I think you’re reckless and impulsive and… exhausting. But no, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

She finally looks up at you, her eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”

“I’m not nice,” you counter. “I just… I think there’s more to you than the act you put on.”

Her lips twitch into a small, almost shy smile. “Careful, president. You keep saying things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

The more time you spend around her, the more you realize how deeply she feels everything. Her chaos isn’t just for show—it’s a shield, a way to keep people from getting too close. But with you, she starts to let her guard down.

One evening, she shows up outside your house, her hair messy and her eyes wild. “Come with me,” she says, grabbing your hand.

“Where are we going?” you ask, letting her drag you down the street.

“Anywhere,” she replies, her grip tight. “Everywhere. I don’t care.”

You end up at the park, sitting on a swingset as the stars blink overhead. She’s unusually quiet, her hands gripping the chains tightly as she stares at the ground.

“You ever feel like you’re spinning out of control?” she asks suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You glance at her, surprised by the question. “Sometimes.”

She exhales shakily, her fingers brushing against yours. “You… you make it stop. Just for a little while.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you don’t know if it’s the raw honesty in her words or the way her fingers linger against yours, but you feel something shift between you.

It happens later that night, as you’re walking her home. She stops in front of her house, turning to face you with an unreadable expression.

“Why do you put up with me?” she asks suddenly, her voice soft.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a mess,” she says, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I break things, I hurt people… I’m not like you. I’m not good.”

“You’re not perfect,” you admit, stepping closer. “But you’re not as bad as you think you are, either.”

She looks up at you, her eyes shining with something you can’t quite name. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

“Maybe,” you say with a small smile. “But I don’t think so.”

Before you can overthink it, you lean in, your lips brushing against hers. She freezes for a moment, like she’s caught off guard, but then she kisses you back, her hands clutching at your sleeves as if you’re the only solid thing in her world.

When you finally pull back, her face is flushed, and she’s breathing hard. “You’re insane,” she mutters, though there’s no heat in her words.

“Takes one to know one,” you reply, grinning.

She laughs, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time, you feel like you’ve truly seen her—every broken, beautiful piece of her.

—Troublemaker!sevika and Tutor!reader

You weren’t thrilled when your teacher assigned you as her tutor. You’d heard all the rumors: skipped classes, biting comebacks that left people reeling, and a permanent spot on the troublemaker watchlist.

Her reputation painted her as unteachable, untamable, and entirely uninterested in anything resembling authority. When your teacher insisted she “just needed guidance,” you couldn’t help but feel skeptical.

The first session confirmed it.

She slouched into the library ten minutes late, her bag dragging on the floor, and dropped into the chair across from you with a loud huff.

“Look,” she said before you could even greet her, “I don’t need some perfect little know-it-all telling me what to do.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m just here to help.”

“Sure,” she scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “Let’s get this over with.”

Her tone was cutting, her expression bored, and yet… there was something about her. A quiet intensity lurking beneath the surface, like she was daring you to break through her tough exterior.

Each session felt like a test of patience. She was sharp, no question about it, but her attitude made every interaction a battle.

“You’re not even trying,” you said one afternoon after she tossed her pen aside for the third time.

Her eyes snapped to yours, hard and unyielding. “Don’t act like you know me,” she said coldly. “You think I don’t try? You think I don’t bust my ass every single day?”

You froze, startled by the edge in her voice.

She leaned forward, her gaze cutting through you like a blade. “I don’t need this. I don’t need you. I’m here because they told me to be.”

For a moment, you considered walking away. But then you saw it—just the faintest flicker of something vulnerable beneath her defiance.

“You’re right,” you said, keeping your voice calm. “I don’t know you. But I know you’re capable of more than this.”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, her fingers drumming on the table. “Whatever,” she muttered.

But she didn’t leave.

Slowly, things started to shift. She showed up on time—barely. She started taking notes—reluctantly. And every so often, she’d let her tough exterior slip, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the real her.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, you handed her a worksheet.

“You’re getting better,” you said, offering her a small smile.

She snorted. “Don’t get all sentimental on me.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying you’re improving.”

“Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath for a thank-you card,” she replied, but there was a hint of a smirk on her lips.

Her walls were still up, but they were starting to crack.

It happened on a rare quiet day in the library. She was hunched over her notebook, her brow furrowed as she worked through a particularly tricky problem.

“Got it,” she said suddenly, sitting up straight.

“Really?” you asked, leaning over to check her work.

She shoved the notebook toward you, her smirk firmly in place. “Told you I’m not dumb.”

“I never said you were dumb,” you replied, meeting her gaze. “You just make things harder than they need to be.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe I like a challenge.”

“Or maybe you’re just stubborn,” you teased.

Her smirk softened, just for a moment. “Takes one to know one, princess.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way she said it, her voice low and almost… fond.

After weeks of late afternoons spent together, you found yourself walking her home one evening. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the quiet streets.

“You’re not as bad as I thought,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You blinked, surprised. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Don’t push your luck,” she shot back, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

When you reached her house, she stopped at the gate, turning to face you. Her usual confidence wavered, just slightly.

“Why do you bother with me?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

“Because I see how hard you work,” you said honestly. “And because I think there’s more to you than what you let people see.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, she stepped closer, her hand brushing yours.

“You’re a real pain, you know that?” she murmured, her voice soft but firm.

Before you could respond, she leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as bold and unapologetic as she was.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but her smirk was firmly in place.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, turning toward her door.

You smiled, your heart racing. “Too late."

—Artist!ekko and Muse!reader

It was one of those golden autumn afternoons, the kind where the sunlight made everything look softer, warmer, like it belonged in a painting. You’d escaped to the park during your lunch break, clutching a well-worn book in one hand and a coffee in the other. It wasn’t the first time you’d come here for a little peace and quiet, but it felt like one of the rare times you’d actually get it.

You settled on a bench near the fountain, a cozy corner of the park where the only sounds were the gentle trickle of water and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

The moment you opened your book, however, you felt it—a faint, almost electric sensation prickling at the edge of your awareness. Someone was watching you.

Glancing up, you spotted him.

He was sitting on the grass a few yards away, sketchpad balanced on his knees, pencil flying across the page. His hair fell messily across his forehead, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to reveal forearms speckled with faint smears of paint. Despite the chaos of his appearance, his focus was absolute, his gaze darting between you and the paper as if you were some rare discovery he couldn’t afford to lose.

You furrowed your brow, unsure whether to feel flattered or alarmed. “Can I help you?” you called, your voice cutting through the quiet.

He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and stood quickly.

“Sorry,” he said, striding toward you. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

His voice was smooth, tinged with an earnestness that made it hard to stay annoyed.

“I’m an artist,” he explained, gesturing to his sketchpad. “I know this sounds weird, but you’ve got this… look. The way you’re sitting, the way the light hits you—it’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“For a piece I’m working on,” he clarified, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Do you mind if I sketch you? Just for a little while.”

You hesitated, studying him. He didn’t look like a creep—just young, maybe a little unkempt, with an intensity in his eyes that was hard to ignore.

“I’m not really dressed for a portrait,” you said, gesturing to your casual sweater and jeans.

He smiled, and the way his face softened surprised you. “It’s not about the clothes. It’s the way you carry yourself.”

The compliment was unexpected, and it caught you off guard. “Alright,” you said slowly. “But just for a few minutes.”

“Great,” he said, dropping to the bench across from you with a grin that felt like the sun breaking through the clouds

It turned out he was a prodigy, a young artist with a growing reputation in the city. His work had been featured in galleries, and he’d even won a few prestigious awards. But for all his talent, he was surprisingly down-to-earth.

“I don’t really like the whole ‘genius’ label,” he admitted one afternoon after convincing you to pose for him again. “It just makes people think I’ve got everything figured out. But most of the time, I’m just trying to keep up with my own ideas.”

You quickly realized that his art wasn’t just a skill—it was his lifeline. He spoke about it the way others might talk about breathing. And for some reason, he’d decided that you were his muse.

“Why me?” you asked one day as he sketched you in his studio. The walls were covered with half-finished canvases, each one brimming with vivid colors and raw emotion.

He glanced up from his sketchbook, his eyes soft but focused. “You’ve got something about you,” he said simply. “A kind of… light. I can’t explain it, but when I see you, I want to create.”

His honesty was disarming. There was no pretense in his words, no calculated charm. He spoke as though his heart was an open book, and every word was written in your honor.

“Do you say that to all your muses?” you teased, trying to lighten the moment.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I’ve never had one before you.”

As time went on, you got to know him beyond his talent. He was fiercely independent, refusing to rely on anyone for his success. His compassion, however, was what surprised you most. He spent his weekends teaching art classes at a local youth center, his eyes lighting up as he helped kids discover their own creativity.

“They’ve got so much potential,” he said once, his voice filled with quiet pride. “They just need someone to believe in them.”

It was clear that he poured himself into everything he did, whether it was a painting, a lesson, or simply spending time with you.

One evening, he invited you to his studio after hours. The space was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of paint and turpentine.

“I want to show you something,” he said, guiding you to the center of the room where a large canvas stood covered by a cloth.

With a dramatic flourish, he pulled the cloth away, revealing a breathtaking painting. It was you—your pose, your expression, every detail captured with such tenderness that it felt like staring into a mirror of your soul.

“Is that… me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze steady. “It’s not just you,” he said softly. “It’s how I see you. Strong, radiant… inspiring.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“It’s beautiful,” you said finally, your voice thick with emotion.

“So are you,” he replied, his lips curling into a small, genuine smile.

There was no grand confession, no dramatic moment where everything changed. Instead, your relationship grew in quiet, unspoken ways. The way he brought you coffee when you visited his studio. The way he asked for your opinion on his work, genuinely valuing your thoughts. The way his hand would brush against yours when he passed you a sketchbook, his touch lingering just a second too long.

One day, as you sat together in the park where you’d first met, he turned to you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “I’m not sure I’d be able to do this without you.”

“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Create,” he replied simply. “You make it… easier to believe in myself.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his honesty. “I think you’d do just fine on your own.”

“Maybe,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours. “But I don’t want to.”

—Bestfriend!jayce

The two of you had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. From elementary school to your final year of high school, your lives had been stitched together with countless shared moments—late-night study sessions, chaotic group projects, and lazy afternoons spent at the local diner. You were the grounded one, the planner, while he was the dreamer.

He was everything you admired in a person: ambitious, creative, and unrelentingly passionate about making the world a better place. Whether he was organizing a charity event for the school or advocating for a greener campus, he didn’t just talk about change—he embodied it.

“Alright, hear me out,” he said one afternoon as you sat in your favorite spot in the school library. His voice was alive with energy, his words spilling out faster than you could process them.

You glanced up from your notes, already bracing yourself. “This is going to be another one of your big ideas, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” he said with a grin. “It’s what I do best.”

He leaned forward, spreading out a sketchbook filled with colorful doodles and bold handwriting. Each page was a mix of blueprints, campaign slogans, and notes for an initiative he wanted to pitch to the student council.

“I’m telling you, if we can pull this off, it could really make a difference. We could partner with local businesses, raise money for community programs, and even involve the younger students—”

“You’re going a hundred miles an hour again,” you interrupted gently, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Not when I’m onto something good,” he replied without missing a beat.

That was him in a nutshell: a whirlwind of ideas and determination, always moving forward. It was both inspiring and exhausting to keep up with him, but somehow, you always did.

For all his big ideas and boundless enthusiasm, he had a softer side too—a side he reserved just for you.

One Friday night, he showed up outside your house, honking his car horn until you came outside in your pajamas.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, glancing around to make sure your neighbors weren’t watching.

“Get in,” he said with a grin, leaning out of the driver’s side window. “I need your opinion on something.”

“You’re insane,” you muttered, but you climbed into the passenger seat anyway.

He drove to a quiet hill on the outskirts of town, parking near an old tree you’d both claimed as “your spot” years ago. He pulled out a notebook from his bag and handed it to you.

“These are my ideas for the youth outreach program,” he said. “I need to know if I’m being too ambitious.”

You flipped through the pages, your heart warming as you saw the effort he’d poured into every word and sketch.

“This is incredible,” you said softly. “You’re not just ambitious—you’re inspiring. People are going to listen to you.”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. “You really think so?”

“Always,” you said, your voice firm.

For a split second, you thought he might reach out to take your hand, but instead, he leaned back, staring up at the stars. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

After particularly grueling school days, he’d find you at your locker, holding out your favorite drink or snack without a word. When the stress of finals hit, he’d sit beside you in the library, quietly working through his own assignments while offering words of encouragement.

And then there were the moments when his usual confidence wavered.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” he asked one evening as you sat on the hood of his car, staring up at the stars.

The two of you had just spent hours planning his latest project, a school-wide fundraiser for a local shelter. Despite his ambitious plans, his voice was quieter now, almost hesitant.

“You? Crazy?” you teased, nudging him playfully. “Absolutely.”

He laughed softly, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t completely fade.

“Seriously, though,” he said, turning to you. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m aiming too high. Like, what if I can’t actually pull all this off? What if I fail?”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You won’t fail. You’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. And even if something doesn’t work out the way you planned, it doesn’t mean you failed. It just means you’re brave enough to try again.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the air between you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The moment lingered, and as he pulled back, his hands stayed on your shoulders. His gaze searched yours, and for the first time, you saw a vulnerability there that he usually kept hidden.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while now,” he began, his voice soft but steady.

Your breath caught. “What is it?”

“I don’t just care about you as a friend,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I mean, I do, but it’s more than that. You’ve always been my anchor, the one person who gets me, who believes in me even when I doubt myself.”

Your heart raced, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. “I think I’ve always felt the same way,” you said quietly.

Relief washed over his face, followed by a smile so genuine it made your chest ache.

“Then we’re in this together,” he said, reaching for your hand. “Like always.”

From that day on, your friendship transformed into something deeper, something stronger. His dreams grew bigger, but now, they weren’t just his—they were yours too. Together, you were unstoppable, a team bound by shared passion and a love that had been years in the making.

Whether it was planning for college or brainstorming ways to change the world, one thing was certain: with him by your side, anything felt possible.

—Enemies to lovers!viktor and reader

From the moment the new kid transferred to your school, it was as if the universe had dropped a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. He was a contradiction: introverted yet razor-sharp in class discussions, quiet but with an undercurrent of passion that seemed to burst through in unexpected moments. His snarky comebacks and aloof demeanor were practically tailor-made to clash with your confident, no-nonsense approach to everything.

You couldn’t help but notice how he kept his distance from everyone else, often retreating to the farthest corner of the library or lab. Despite his unassuming presence, he somehow managed to infuriate you with his brilliance. Teachers fawned over him, classmates whispered about him, and you? You glared daggers at him every time he raised his hand in class to counter one of your arguments.

The first real confrontation happened in science class. It was a group project, and your teacher, in a cruel twist of fate, paired you with him.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath.

He barely glanced at you as he set down his notebook, already flipping through its pages. “It’s not my favorite pairing either, but let’s just get this done.”

His tone was clipped, and his eyes barely met yours.

“Oh, so we’re starting with passive-aggressive remarks? Good to know where we stand,” you shot back, folding your arms.

He sighed, finally looking at you. “Look, I don’t care if you like me or not. I care about getting an A on this project. If you want to argue, fine, but at least do it while we’re running the experiment.”

His bluntness took you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. But you quickly recovered, rolling your eyes. “Fine. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you take over.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered under his breath, already scribbling in his notebook.

Working together was like a storm brewing in slow motion. You were both stubborn and headstrong, constantly butting heads over the smallest details.

“Why are you doing it that way?” you snapped one afternoon as he adjusted the settings on the experiment’s apparatus.

“Because it’s the correct way,” he replied without looking up.

“You didn’t even let me explain my idea!”

“Your idea would’ve blown up the circuit.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“Let me guess—you’re the kind of person who thinks trial and error is the only way to learn?”

He finally turned to face you, a faint smirk playing at his lips “And you’re the kind of person who thinks you’re always right,”

The tension crackled like static electricity, but neither of you backed down.

It wasn’t until a late-night study session in the empty library that things started to shift. The project deadline was looming, and you’d reluctantly agreed to meet outside of school to finish your work.

He was unusually quiet that night, his usual snark absent as he stared intently at the data on his laptop.

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

He hesitated, his fingers pausing on the keyboard. “Just tired. And frustrated. I want this to be perfect.”

Something in his tone softened your usual defensiveness. “You know, it doesn’t have to be perfect. You’re allowed to mess up sometimes.”

He gave a faint, humorless laugh. “Not really. Not when people are counting on me.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. For the first time, you saw past the walls he’d built around himself—the pressure he carried, the weight of expectations.

“I didn’t realize you were dealing with so much,” you said quietly.

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Why would you? We’ve been too busy trying to outsmart each other.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Fair point. Maybe we should call a truce—for now.”

He smiled, just barely, and it was the first time you’d seen him let his guard down.

As the project progressed, the two of you started to find common ground. You discovered his love for science wasn’t just about theories and equations—it was about helping people.

“Why are you so passionate about this?” you asked one day as he carefully calibrated a piece of equipment.

He hesitated, then said, “Because I want to make a difference. I has a chronic illness, and I’ve spent years struggling with treatments that barely work. I want to change that for me, and for anyone else going through the same thing.”

His words hit you like a punch to the chest. You’d always thought of him as cold and detached, but now, you saw the fire that drove him.

“That’s… incredible,” you said softly.

He shrugged, his cheeks tinged with color. “It’s just what I care about. What about you? What drives you?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the question. But as you opened up about your own dreams and ambitions, you realized something had shifted between you.

On the night before the project was due, you were sitting in his garage, putting the final touches on your presentation. It was late, and the two of you were running on caffeine and adrenaline.

“Here,” he said, handing you a mug of tea. “You’re going to burn out if you keep pushing yourself.”

“Look who’s talking,” you teased, taking the mug.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the garage filling the space.

“You’re not so bad, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice low.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your idea of a compliment?”

He smiled faintly, looking down at his hands. “I mean it. I’ve never met anyone who challenges me the way you do. It’s… refreshing.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you looked away, pretending to focus on the data. “Well, don’t get used to it. I’m not going easy on you just because you’re finally being nice.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said, and there was a softness in his tone that made your heart race.

[westhly]

through sickness and health.

hwang jun-ho x wife! reader

₊✧ summary he takes care of you during the day because you're sick.

₊✧ content fluff.

the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the apartment. it had been a restless night for you. you had been feeling different since last night, but even though you assured jun-ho that you were fine, he didn't seem to believe you.

you grunted occasionally during sleep. you couldn't tell if you were awake or asleep. you could feel the heaviness in your head and eyes. you were cold and the oppressive heat beat down on your face.

you felt his fingers on your neck and cheek as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. he stayed on you for a while. then his lips on your forehead. it was effective.

"wifey," jun-ho said quietly, brushing a stray lock of your hair. his voice was low but firm he sat up and his attention was on you.

your eyes fluttered open slowly, still heavy. "jun-ho…?" your voice was low, your pale face, the weakness in your voice and your worsening fever kept him on edge.

"you have a fever," he said. you had the reflex to hold on as he pulled the blanket off you, but in vain. a shiver ran through you. "take off your top." he put his hand on your back to help you sit up and then he took off your pajamas. your head was throbbing.

"i told you. why don't you take care of yourself?" it was a tone he often used when he wouldn't let someone push him away. you pouted at him. "don't look like that." he handed you the water in the table. "are you in pain?"

you took the water and nodded. "my head."

he shook his head negatively. as if scolding you. you looked away. his hand gently caressed your shoulder. helped you sit up, propping your up with a pillow so you wouldn’t feel dizzy. “i'm coming. don't pull the blanket over you. keep the fever down.”

he wasn't great at expressing emotions openly, but he wasn't the kind of person to stand by and do nothing when someone he cared about needed help, so when he woke up and saw you lying in bed, your face flushed with fever, his first instinct was to get up and take care of you.

he put on some random shirt. he went to the kitchen. he prepared something that wouldn't upset your stomach. you couldn't take medicine on an empty stomach and you had to eat something. your favorite porridge and a tea.

followed by a mild painkiller and a fever reducer.

he handed you tea first, making sure she drank enough to relief. then he carefully placed the bowl of porridge in front of you. “i made something light,” he said, his gaze fixed on you as you carefully ate a few

"thank you." you whispered. your cheeks were flushed cause of fever.

he didn't leave your side until he was sure you had eaten enough. when you felt a little unwell, he gave you painkiller and fever reducer. “do you want me to change your clothes?”

he stroked your back. there was softening and concern in his gaze. you shook your head no. “i want to get some sleep.”

jun-ho nodded. he could see that you fever had gone down a bit and was less pale. “just rest. i'll keep an eye on you.” he kissed your forehead so you wouldn't feel alone.

for the past hours he'd been taking your temperature every now and then, keeping the room warm. making sure you were feeling okay. when he finally saw that your skin wasn't burning like before and that you were more peaceful, he decided to go to work. he covered you up before he left. “get well soon.”

for the rest of the day, you felt fine except for some weakness. you decided to air the house a bit and lay on the couch. around noon, you woke up to a call from jun-ho. he asked if you were okay, if you needed anything.

when it got dark you felt the headache and the heaviness hit you again. you put the blanket over you again. lay on the bed. your hand was on your head.

jun-ho had come home a little early. before he came back, he had bought some medicinal soup and some herbal teas for you. when he saw you on the bed like that, he frowned.

he knelt beside the bed and took your hand in his own. he checked your fever. “how are you feeling?”

“im great but,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. you grimaced. “the headache is killing me.”

he kissed your hand. “i brought you some soup, drink well and rest. we can go to the doctor.” you smiled slightly and nodded. “no, just be with me.” he smiled and kissed your hand again. he stood up. “but if you get worse, we'll go.” he said in a determined voice.

he made a mental note to keep an eye on you throughout the night as he prepared your soup and medicine.

when you finished your soup and took medicine, he took the empty plates and glass back and placed it on the bedside table.

“do you want me to get you anything else?” he asked, always trying to anticipate what you might need next.

you shook your head. “no... , just want to rest. you should too jun-ho. you've been at it all morning.”

he nooded. he put you back down and covered you. “get a good rest, i'll be in the living room.”

your hand reached out toward him and he took it in your without hesitation. your touch was enough to remind him of the deep bond you both shared. the bond that, in moments like these, mattered more than anything.

“together.” you whispered, barely able to keep you eyes open. sleep was taking over you.

for a moment, he allowed himself to relax with you, just a little. he wasn’t used to being vulnerable, but seeing you this way made him realize just how much he love you.

even in the quiet stillness of the room, with nothing but the sound of your soft breathing and the occasional rustle of blankets, his commitment to you was clear.

he held you close to his chest and kissed you on the cheek before he closed his eyes.

through sickness and health.

wow it seemed weird to me 'cause i always write dark things, maybe I'll delete it

anyway enjoy it 🫶🏻🫶🏻💓

[prisjean]

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ caleb x fem! reader

a/n: based on the new 5 star trailer! i know it’s not spicy and i know his memory might be a lil spicy but i think being vulnerable & hand holding is so adorable c: not proofread btw!

tw: quick fluff with cyborg caleb!

the laboratory was quiet, occasionally having the creak of the low hum of the engines. caleb sat shirtless on the edge of his cot, his head bowed, his hands resting on his knees. or rather, one hand. the other, a gleaming, mechanical mental that rested there like a ghost of something he’d lost.

you had noticed it before, the way he avoided using his right hand more than necessary and the stiff movements when he tried to grip something delicate. but up until now, you hadn’t pressed him on it.

but tonight was different.

“…you’re staring, pipsqueak” he said, his voice quiet but tinged with that familiar edge of amusement.

you took a step closer. “i’m not staring. i’m... observing.” you huffed.

he let out a soft, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “same thing.”

you frowned, crossing your arms. “why didn’t you tell me?”

he finally looked up, his beautiful purple pinkish eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you saw something raw in his expression, something he rarely let anyone see. “…what was I supposed to say?” he asked, his voice low. “hey, by the way, I’m not the man you remember. part of me isn’t even human anymore?…”

“don’t do that,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right in front of him. “don’t put words in my mouth.”

caleb sighed, running his left hand through his hair. “it’s not just that it’s gone,” he admitted, his tone softer now, more vulnerable. “…i..can’t feel anything. not from this.” he gestured to the robotic arm with a small, bitter laugh. “no warmth. no touch. nothing. just cold metal pretending to be part of me.”

your chest ached at the weight of his words, and before he could retreat further into himself, you knelt in front of him, placing your hands gently on his knees. “caleb,” you said softly, waiting until he met your gaze again.

“it doesn’t change anything for me,” you continued, your voice steady. “you’re still you. the man that’s always looking out for me and taking care of me. the man that would rather throw himself in harm’s way than let anything happen to me. that’s who you are, not…” you reached out, hesitating for a moment before resting your hand on the cold surface of his robotic forearm. “…this.”

he tensed at your touch, his jaw clenching as he looked down at where your hand rested. “but i can’t feel it,” he whispered, his voice strained. “…i-i can’t feel you..”

your heart twisted, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you slid your hand up to the connection point where metal met flesh, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. “then feel me here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as though to dismiss your words, but his gaze remained fixed on yours, a mixture of exasperation and quiet longing etched into his features. slowly, you reached for his left hand, the one that was still flesh and blood.

his breath hitched as your fingers brushed against his, hesitant at first, testing the waters. when he didn’t pull away, you intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the roughness of his calloused palm against your skin. His grip tightened slightly, grounding himself in the sensation of your touch, something he could feel, something real.

“here,” you said softly, guiding his hand towards your face. you ran his fingers over your cheek, pressing into his palm, letting him feel the warmth of your skin. his thumb instinctively stroked along your cheekbone, the motion being slow and delicate, as though he were afraid to break the moment.

caleb sighed, the sound heavy and quiet, like he’d been holding his breath for far too long. “…you don’t know what this means to me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “to feel this. to feel you.”

your heart warmed at the vulnerability in his words, and you turned your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his palm. “you don’t have to carry this alone,” you whispered. “whatever’s happened, whatever’s still hurting, you don’t have to keep it from me.”

for a moment, he didn’t respond. his eyes searched yours, as though trying to find the truth in your words, then with a small nod, he let his forehead rest gently against yours, his hand still caressing your cheek. he was gonna cherish this moment forever.

“i’ll try,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “for you.”

you smiled softly, your free hand reaching up to cover his, your fingers curling around his knuckles. “thank you, that’s all I ask.”

the silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that came when words were no longer needed, when touch spoke louder than anything else. Caleb’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb still brushing admiringly against your skin, as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.

[thesquidgame]

The Moments After

Hwang In-ho x wife!reader

Part One Part Two

Summary: In-ho deals with your sudden collapse while you receive treatment.

Warnings: angst, medical emergency, hospital, stitches, blood, viral infection, understaffed hospitals, trauma, violence

Word Count: 2.5k~

In-ho didn’t know how slowly time could pass before today. Sitting in the sterile white hallway of the hospital, bouncing his knee, staring down at his blood-soaked hands, every minute felt like hours. He always thought that was an exaggeration, but here, in this moment, he knew it to be true. Every now and then he would look up when he thought that at least half an hour had passed, only to find that it had been less than a minute.

After he had run you into the ER, chaos erupted. An entire medical staff instantly swarmed you, asking countless questions, all that he was almost too frazzled to answer. He told them only what he knew; that you had been acting strange lately, what strange behaviors you had, and that he woke up earlier that night to find you throwing up blood. And that you hadn’t stopped since you had started.

After that he could only focus on you, screaming your name over and over again as you blinked your eyes slowly, in a daze of blood loss and whatever had happened to you to make you throw up so much.

And then, the hand he didn’t even realize was gripping yours slipped away from his. A nurse held him back as they wheeled you into a deeper part of the hospital that he couldn’t enter. It was suddenly very quiet. Unlike the insanity that had just happened around him, there was complete and total stillness around him. He was far enough into the hospital that the noises of the ER were inaudible. In-ho never knew how quiet a hospital could be, but between the silence, the white walls, and the glacial pace of time, it felt like he was being tortured.

It had been an hour since he had arrived in the hospital, he only knew because of how often he glanced at the clock before any staff talked to him. 

“Sir? Are your feet alright?” 5 AM, the time he knew the doctors changed shifts in your hospital. The man speaking was young and looked terrified by seeing a 40-year-old man covered in blood sitting in an empty hallway. “Are- are you okay?”

In-ho glanced down to see that tracks of blood were running from his feet. He just noticed the pain. He still didn’t care. “No, I need to know what’s happening to my wife?” He demanded as he stood up.

Shame washed over him. Why hadn’t he asked before? He knew the answer, he didn’t want to talk to anybody, that would make this real.

“Sir, I- I think you need to get some stitches first, your feet look-” 

In-ho made the difference between him and the young doctor. He picked him up by the collar and slammed him against the wall. In-ho didn’t consider himself a violent man, but right now he had no idea what he was capable of. 

“What happened to my wife.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.

“I- I think I need to treat your feet fi-” In-ho pushed him further into the wall.

The doctor gulped, “What- what’s her name?”

In-ho let go. “(Y/n) Hwang.”

“Nurse Hwang is your wife?” The doctor looked away.

“Yes.” In-ho had done countless trainings and interrogated countless criminals. He knew when someone was afraid of something. “Why are you looking away from me.”

The doctor started walking away, stammering, “If you come with me, I can help you find out what ha-”

“Don’t walk away from me. What aren’t you telling me.” The doctor stopped in his tracks.

When he turned around, In-ho saw tears on his cheeks. “I’m sorry. We- we didn’t know.”

In-ho stalked towards him, leaving almost no space between him and the younger man. “Didn’t know what.”

“We noticed she was acting strange. We thought- we thought it must just be stress.” He gulped, “and if it wasn’t,” he got quiet, “we didn’t know how to deal with it. We were all so stressed out all the time. We- we didn’t have any time or resources to step in or talk to her about it.”

They knew something was wrong with his wife, but they hadn’t done anything about it. In-ho wanted to grab the doctor and slam him against the wall. But he couldn’t. Hadn’t he done the same exact thing? Hadn’t he been too stressed to prod further about what was happening? In-ho thought that because you were a nurse, you would do something if you thought something was wrong, or talk to him about it. He was just as bad as them. No, he was worse. He was your husband. He was supposed to take care of you, that was what he had sworn to do on the best day of his life, your wedding day.

In-ho wanted to break down. He wanted to collapse and roll into a ball on the ground and cry. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know anything about your condition, he had to figure out what was happening, he had to do something.

In-ho croaked, “What happened to her?”

The doctor silently walked away, sensing what had just happened, and In-ho followed behind. “I’m going to see if anyone can come tell us what happened.” He pressed dials on a phone and called someone. “A doctor will be here soon. The surgery is almost over.”

Surgery? In-ho knew there was a reason that all of the doctors and nurses had rushed away and not come back, but hearing it was different than just simply knowing it.

“Can I look at the cuts on your feet?”

In-ho didn’t respond, just sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands. 

It was another long wait before anyone came out to talk to In-ho, and eventually, a woman and a man came out wearing scrubs, “Mr. Hwang?”

In-ho stood up immediately, staring at the doctor who looked to be the same age as him. In-ho didn’t have to ask the question, the doctor already knew what he was waiting to hear. The other doctor sighed, “She’s alive.”

In-ho let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “My name is Dr. Park, would you like to take a seat?”

He didn’t like that. In-ho knew that tone of voice. He had used the same one at his job when he was giving bad news. “No, tell me now.”

The doctor reached up and took off his surgical cap. “Your wife had a large blood vessel in her esophagus explode, causing internal bleeding. We were able to help correct it using bands in surgery.” The doctor sighed again, as In-ho held his breath. “However, that isn’t the concerning part. There is almost always an underlying condition causing this. We sent a rush blood panel down and found that your wife’s liver results came back abnormal. We believe she has cirrhosis.”

Cirrhosis. He had only heard about this in passing when you were studying for your nursing exams. You had made a stack of notecards at least three feet tall, and he spent weeks quizzing you. In-ho had always had a good memory and was usually able to pick out pieces relating to the disease, but for some reason, he couldn’t remember anything relating to cirrhosis.

“What, what does this mean?” In-ho said, panic exuding through his voice.

“I’d like to talk further when your wife wakes up, it’s best if we discuss with the patient and the patient’s family there.”

In-ho wanted to was rush over and hit this doctor until he told him everything he wanted to know, but his priorities were still on you. He had to conserve his energy, and arguing with the doctor would only take more energy than he had to waste. “Can I see her?”

“Yes, she’s right this way.” This doctor said nothing about the blood In-ho was leaving on the floor. He had been doing this a lot longer than the other one and knew that stitches were the least important thing in In-ho’s mind at this point.

You were lying in the bed, still unconscious from surgery. “We were able to go in laparoscopically, meaning that we put a tube down her throat and operated from there.”

In-ho didn’t care about what that meant, he just rushed to your side and grabbed one of your hands in both of his. Your hands felt cold and clammy, and he looked to your side to see that there was a blood bag attached to your arm next to another one giving you other fluids.

“Is there anyone we can call for you? You were listed as her emergency contact, so we weren’t sure if you had any family you’d like us to call.” The nurse waiting next to Dr. Park asked. 

In-ho didn’t pause, “Yes, my brother.” He realized that he had left his phone in your apartment in his rush to get you to the hospital. He quickly gave Jun-ho’s number and went back to directing his complete and full attention at you.

In a couple of minutes, the young doctor from before came into the room pushing a small metal cart. “Mr. Hwang, can I quickly treat your foot wounds? You won’t have to leave her side. It’s best to do it now so you won’t have to leave her side later if it gets worse.”

In-ho didn’t move, and the doctor took it as a sign to continue. The younger doctor had clearly been lectured on what best to say to the loved one of an injured person. He painstakingly pulled glass piece after glass piece out of In-ho’s foot, washed each cut carefully, and then stitched up each one. He was in miserable pain, but In-ho didn’t move. It was a small dosage of the punishment he deserved for ignoring your illness.

The doctor silently left after he was finished wrapping the wounds, and In-ho continued the self-inflicted torture he put himself through inside his head.

The door burst open, and Jun-ho rushed inside, a nurse hot on his heels. “Sir, you can’t be in here! It’s not visiting hours.”

“It’s 6:45, visiting hours start in 15 minutes,” Jun-ho said, ignoring her further protests to run forward and kneel next to his brother. “In-ho, are you alright? What happened? They wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone.” 

“She’s sick. She’s really sick.” In-ho said. 

Jun-ho’s face was shocked. “What are you talking about? How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know. I- I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think it could be this.” He paused, taking a deep breath, “she had to have surgery. She started…” In-ho shuddered, “she started throwing up blood earlier this morning, and I had to drive her to the hospital.”

Jun-ho didn’t know what to do, or say. His brother was glued to your side, so he couldn’t hug him. They had been through something slightly similar when Jun-ho was 8 and their father had died, but past it both being sick family members, everything else was different. In-ho was 20 when their dad died, and he was the one comforting Jun-ho. Now it was Jun-ho’s turn, and he had no idea how to do it. 

This was his wife. The reason In-ho got out of bed in the morning; you were his entire life. Your wedding date was his passcode, and his lock screen was you on the day you graduated nursing school.

“In-ho, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. Do they know what it is?”

In-ho squeezed your hand tighter, “I don’t know the details, but it’s something with her liver. It’s… It’s bad Jun-ho.”

There was nothing else for Jun-ho to say. No band-aid that could fix it, not call to anyone to change it. He sat down next to his brother, and like In-ho, waited.

It was only a couple of hours before you woke up, dazed and blinking slowly. Your eyes immediately moved towards the man holding your hand, “In-ho?”

Your voice hurt to speak, it felt like there were rusty nails in your windpipe.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” In-ho surged toward you, beginning to stroke your hair with his hand.

“What- what happened?” You saw In-ho’s brother push a button next to your bed.

“What do you remember?” He said, slowly and soothingly.

“I remember feeling sick, and getting up to throw up, and- and that’s it.” You said, blinking in confusion.

In-ho looked like he started to say something before a doctor and a nurse walked into the room, both of them being people you had worked with before. Dr. Park was the nicest doctor in the hospital you thought. He was a man of few words and never sugarcoated anything, but he always took care of his patients' needs. The nurse was a new hire, she was one that you always covered for, and there was a strange expression on her face.

“Ms. Hwang, I’m glad you're awake.” He said, pulling a stool forward that had been in the corner of the room. 

“My husband was just about to tell me what happened.” You said, still confused at what was happening.  You looked up at In-ho, and there was a look of sheer terror on his face, confusing you even further. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

He did his best to wipe that look off his face, but it didn’t really work, “nothing, I just want to hear what the doctor has to say.”

Dr. Park took a deep breath, before explaining something that would change your life forever. “Ms. Hwang, your husband brought you in early this morning after you threw up blood. He told us that you had been having some odd symptoms, and frankly, some of the staff were able to recount some for me as well. We did some blood work, and noticed some unusual things.” You held your breath. “The first thing we noticed, was that you tested positive for Hepatitis C, do you have any knowledge of this?”

You and In-ho were both shocked, “no, I- I had no idea.” 

Dr. Park sighed again, a sound that was quickly becoming foreboding, “Do you have any past use of drugs, any knowledge of any family members carrying the virus, or any contact with used needles.”

And then it hit you, “Yes. When I was in my first month as a nurse I got stuck with a used needle. My boss- my boss told me that it happened to everyone at some time or another and that we were busy and had to move on.” 

In-ho looked at you horrified, “Honey, what does the disease do?” He whispered, addressing you and not the doctor.

But Dr. Park cut in, “It’s a virus that can go away on its own, but other times it can stay in the body symptom-free for decades before showing harmful symptoms. It’s unlikely to be transmitted through sex, but you should get tested as well.”

While the doctor was speaking, the pieces connected in your head. Hepatitis C, vomiting up blood, the symptoms you thought were nothing. “My liver is failing, isn’t it.”

The four other people in the room turned to you. The look on In-ho’s face killed you, so you had to look away and move your glance to Dr. Park.

He stared you in the eyes, and said, “Yes, it is.”

I'm taking a break from the series, I'll probably write part three after my next fic!

Tags: @bigdaddddyyyyy @kimeungun114 @eviesmoon @jspidey5 @kyl13sm1l3y @watasinekoru @starkeyszn @multifandomgirllol @annasnape7 @sylviavf @foulbreadpaenut @unaaasz @vrystalius @ultimate-simp-10

[briarscreek]

Oooooo omg I loved reverse! Roman empire tf 141 x reader, would you be willing to do more?

I hope you have such a nice day/night.

P.s no pressure to do more, just wanted to let you know your writing is gorgeous

OMG I DIDNT EVEN SEE THIS ASK IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME A MINUTE

hope you enjoy this pookie ❤️

it doesn’t take long until the next gladiator fight that you’re thrust into the mix again. this time just against one opponent. from what you could pick up in interpreting the language, the name was skull crusher. it’s not the best translation but you got the message. and the fact that he held no weapon.

he was larger than you, could dwarf anyone easily; and a crowd favorite. a blood thirsty dog only trained to fight in the confines of this brick and mortar. you didn’t want to fight, tried to get through to him; evaded every attack and only defended yourself. but if the emperor grew bored; both fighters would be dead. you had to make a choice; you or him.

you picked yourself.

you tried to make it as quick as possible, give him something painless so that he can pass. but he kept fighting and you had no choice. you kept repeating it to yourself as you watched him bleed out slowly from his neck.

you had no choice.

you had no choice.

you had no choice.

you had no—

a hand grasped your shoulder. a blink and you were suddenly switched from your thoughts of earlier that day to being surrounded by the 4 men you met on your first night as a fighter. it was harder to breathe. they towered over you just like he did.

tears in your eyes, you were shaking like a leaf. you didn’t want to do it again. fear caused you to pick up the knife off the food plate they delivered. pointing towards them, rambling how you will survive. even if they couldn’t understand you.

one word from the bearded one stunned you into a shock.

“rest”

your ramblings ceased immediately.

“how did you— can you understand me?”

“rest.”

he led you to a changing room, the taller one with a mask took off your clothes and laid you in the bath. one man with a reassuring smile and another with differently cut hair started to use rags to clean you. not hands of lust but rags moved with care. it wasn’t until they were done did the bearded one come back with a different robe; maybe one meant for sleeping. he slipped it onto you, tying the front securely and gently held out his hand. he lead you towards the bed as the masked one pulled back the covers.

what surprised you was how gentle they all were. was this a customary service or a personal one? as your exhaustion started to weigh you down, you tried to listen in on their conversation. something to do with ‘escape’ and ‘you’.

if you ever did escape this servitude, you just hoped they wouldn’t tell. or maybe they could join you.

if only you could understand them.

[etclouie]

together in one

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — summary; separating yourself from the group and finding yourself tucked away in Daryl’s tent, but things get heated (Daryl Dixon x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — setting; farm era 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — warnings; not full on smut, minors do not interact!!!, dry humping, daryl cums in his pants, mutual pinning, kinda subby!daryl, reader + daryl are both outsiders in the group, that’s it really

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — word count; 959

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — a/n; working through some of my own ideas the now before i write reqs, just cause of my 600 event

twd masterlist | main masterlist like daryl? join my taglist !

you’d been feeling different in comparison to the group lately, pushing yourself away and growing closer to the group’s other outsider; Daryl. 

both of you grew closer after what happened at the CDC, finding comfort in the others silence. 

but when Daryl upped and moved his tent far away from everyone else, it caused a little rift between the both of you. 

so when you stalked up to his tent, you had the intention of talking things out between the both of you, but when you seen him sprawled out on his cot it had your words turning to mush. 

Daryl leaned back on his elbows, one of his eyebrows raised in questioning while something akin to a smirk toyed at his lips. 

“you’ve been out here yourself for a bit, wanted to check up on you”

you broke the silence, a welcomed change to the empty and quietness of his tent. 

he huffed, lip curling at the corner before he nodded. his own little way of saying it was okay to stay. 

“am fine..”

he told as you sat at the end of his cot, letting your eyes flicker up his body until they met his. 

the thing with Daryl was that he’d only let you in, so when he caught the way your eyes flickered across his body it caused a pool of warmth inside him. 

he gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing before he grunted. you seen the way his hips shifted, quickly averting your gaze as he spoke. 

“need y’r hand”

the request was upfront, and unlike him usually. but it piqued your interest. 

tilting your head back to him, eyes falling to the bulge straining in his jeans while heat shot through your body. 

“only feel like this ‘bout you”

when your eyes met his again, the sincerity was prominent. his pupils were blown wide, a mix of his sincerity and the lust he had for you. 

you couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped past your lips before you crawled into his lap, a whine falling from his lips at the feeling of you on top of him. 

“like this baby?”

you asked softly, the pet name making his head fall back and his eyes screw shut. you leaned in, capturing his lips with yours before you started to slowly roll your hips against his. 

hearing his breath hitch, both of his hands moving to grab your hips as his cock throbbed in the confines of his pants. 

his desperation fuelled something inside you, his willingness for you to take charge causing your panties to dampen with your arousal. 

continuing to roll your hips against his, lips pressing to his again in a desperate row of kisses. nipping at his bottom lip and a whine toppling from his lips again, his hands squeezed at your hips as his hips rocked up against you. 

the whole scene was desperate, heady breathing and needy grinding. 

with each pass of your hips, his cock throbbed with need. aching against the zipper of his jeans, desperate for release.

Daryl had never felt like this with someone before, had never had his climax build so quickly. but god, did you make his head fuzzy with want. 

“oh fuck—“

he cursed, back arching up off of the cot as his head threw itself back. your lips curved into another smirk, watching him amused as you gave another roll of your hips. 

he whined again, before his whines turned to whimpers. his hips canted up against you, his bulge pressing just right against your centre and causing the coil in his belly to wind impossibly tighter. 

you could sense that he was teetering on the edge, could feel the insistent throb of his cock through both of your jeans as his hands pawed desperately at your hips. 

leaning in you kissed him again, teeth nipping at his bottom lip before you whispered out to him. 

“yeah bubs?”

something akin to a growl left him, your tone was teasing despite the softness that you spoke with. 

his hips bucked up against you, in a frenzied pace that confirmed every suspicion on his impending release. 

with a couple more rolls of your hips, and another kiss to his lips he was toppling over the edge with a strangled groan. 

smirking against his lips as his hips bucked again, feeling him twitch through both sets of your jeans as he spilled his release into the denim. 

the pool of arousal in his belly quickly replaced with embarrassment, everything in his post high glaze screamed at him for finishing like that. 

“hey don’t be embarrassed, that was hot”

you reassured him, hands soothing across his chest. he lay back against the cot with a sigh, eyes flicking between your face and the roof of his tent. 

his grip on your hips softened, thumbs drawing absentminded shapes across your denim clad skin before he grumbled out. 

“never done tha’ a’fore”

his accent thickened, despite the remnants of embarrassment in his tone you could hear the pleased, blissed out part of him. 

appreciating the warmth that spread through him at the pleasure you’d just given him, god he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. 

“well, it was really hot”

you repeated, catching his lips again before laying against his chest. head laying on his shoulder, feeling him glance down at you before a breath passed his lips. 

his right hand moved from your hip to run across your back, fingers trailing the length of your spine as he spoke. 

“don’ feel hot, feels sticky ‘nd messy”

that pulled a laugh from you, shaking your head before pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw and then whispering in his ear. 

“a hot sticky mess”

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[777bae]

PERFECT IMPERFECTIONS LUKE HUGHES

Summary :: You finally open up to Luke about a long-standing insecurity of yours

Warnings :: Insecurities (dark circles)

Word count :: 1.4k

The evening has a quiet, gentle rhythm to it, a calmness that feels almost sacred. The kind of quiet that can only come from being comfortably wrapped in the presence of someone you love, knowing that the world outside can wait for a while. You and Luke are on the couch, the soft light from the lamp beside you casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The glow dances across his face as he scrolls through his phone, the familiar sounds of his movements grounding you in the present. You’ve always loved these quiet moments with him—when nothing else matters but the fact that you’re together.

But tonight, something’s different. The sense of peace you usually feel when you’re near him is heavy, weighed down by an insecurity that’s been gnawing at you all day. You can feel it pressing on your chest, slowly tightening with every passing second, even though you’re trying your best to push it away.

You’ve always had these dark circles. As long as you can remember, they’ve been there. When you were a little girl, you’d stare at your reflection and wonder why your face looked so tired, even when you hadn’t done anything to earn that exhaustion. As you grew older, it became something you learned to live with—something you tried to hide, tried to mask. No matter how much sleep you got, no matter how many “miracle” creams or makeup techniques you tried, those shadows under your eyes were always there. They became a constant companion, something you never quite got used to, but had learned to accept.

And yet tonight, they feel more pronounced than ever. Maybe it’s the exhaustion that’s built up over the last few weeks—too many late nights and early mornings, trying to balance everything, trying to keep it all together. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been staring at your face in the mirror all day, looking for signs of something different, something better, and all you’ve found is the same tired reflection you’ve always seen. Your eyes look heavy. You look drained. Like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it’s written all over your face.

As you sit beside Luke, curled up on the couch, you find yourself unconsciously shrinking away from him, trying to hide the way you feel inside. You pull your knees closer to your chest, folding in on yourself as if to protect the parts of you that are exposed—the parts of you you wish you could change. You try to make yourself small, hoping he won’t notice. But Luke, being Luke, notices everything. He always does.

“Hey,” he says gently, his voice a soft anchor in the quiet of the room. He looks over at you, his gaze immediately softening as he notices your change in posture. “What’s going on? You’ve been quiet.”

You try to offer him a smile, but it’s thin, insincere. It feels like a mask that doesn’t quite fit. You don’t want to burden him with your feelings, don’t want to sound trivial, but the words escape your lips before you can stop them.

“I’m just… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking a lot about my dark circles,” you admit, the words hanging in the air between you, heavier than you’d intended. “I’ve always had them, you know? No matter how much sleep I get, no matter how much I try to fix them, they’re always there. And today, I just… I don’t know. I feel like they’re all anyone would notice when they look at me.”

The vulnerability in your voice surprises even you, and you immediately feel a wave of embarrassment, as though admitting this out loud somehow makes it worse. You brace yourself for the usual reassurance—the empty kind of comfort people often give when they want to make you feel better but don’t truly understand what’s going on inside. You’re so used to hearing it, to hearing people say, “It doesn’t matter to me,” or “You’re beautiful no matter what.” But you’ve always wondered if they mean it. If they can really see you, see the parts of you that feel broken, and still love you just the same.

Luke doesn’t say anything right away. His gaze softens, though, and you can feel his presence shift. It’s almost as if he’s studying you, trying to understand the quiet storm brewing behind your eyes. He moves a little closer, his body turning toward yours. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing over your arm, sending a ripple of warmth through you. But it’s not just the touch. It’s the way he looks at you—as if he’s trying to read every part of you, to reach the parts of you that you don’t even know how to express.

“Let me see you,” he says softly, his voice low but firm with the kind of gentleness you’ve always known him for. He doesn’t push you, doesn’t force you to explain yourself, but his words are a quiet invitation. An invitation to be seen, to be understood. “Look at me, babe.”

You hesitate, unsure if you’re ready to meet his gaze, unsure if you’re ready to let him see all the insecurity swirling inside of you. But when you do, when your eyes finally meet his, something shifts. There’s no judgment there. Only love. Only understanding.

“Those dark circles, the ones you think make you less beautiful? They don’t make you less, anything,” he says, his voice unwavering. “They’ve always been a part of you. And honestly?” He smiles gently, the kind of smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “I’ve always loved them. I think they’re beautiful.”

You blink, your breath catching in your throat as you try to process what he’s just said. “What?” you ask, your voice a mixture of disbelief and surprise. “But they—”

“They’re a part of you,” Luke interrupts, his hands now gently cradling your face, his thumb sweeping softly across your cheek, where those dark circles sit. “They tell a story. A story of you—of everything you do, everything you are. They show your strength, your effort, your heart. They’re not flaws. They’re part of what makes you, you. And I think that’s beautiful.”

His words are simple, but they sink deep. So deep, in fact, that you feel a tear slip down your cheek before you even realize it. You hadn’t even known you were holding it in, but the floodgates open, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the wave of emotion rushing through you. You’ve never heard someone speak to you this way before, never felt so seen in your entire life. It’s as if the parts of you that you’ve always hated, the parts of you you’ve always tried to hide, are suddenly being accepted without question, without hesitation.

Luke’s hands move to cup your face more securely, his eyes never leaving yours, and his forehead presses against yours, as if grounding you in his love, in his belief in you.

“I love you. And I don’t just love you despite those dark circles. I love you because of them. They’re a part of your story, and they make you, you. And there is nothing in this world that I would change about you.”

The warmth in his words wraps around you like a blanket, melting away the harsh edges of your insecurities, leaving behind only peace. You close your eyes for a moment, taking in his words, letting them sink in. When you open them again, you feel lighter, freer, like a weight has been lifted from your chest.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead in the softest kiss, the kind of kiss that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. You let out a breath, a shaky laugh escaping your lips as you finally feel the truth of his words sink deep into your bones.

And in that moment, with his hands gently cradling your face, his heart open and steady, you realize something profound. The dark circles under your eyes, the tiredness that’s always been with you—they no longer feel like something to hide. They’re not a sign of something broken or wrong. They’re a sign of your resilience, your humanity, your capacity to love and work and care.

And Luke loves them. He loves all of you, dark circles and all. And for the first time, you can finally say that you love them, too.

[aeralux]

"I'd Rather Be With You (Too)" - Lucerys Velaryon

Modern!Lucerys Velaryon x Reader (part one here)

Summary: "People have a way of leaving. Best to not let anyone close." This is the saying Lucerys lived his whole life by. Keeping others at a distance even if it hurts both him and others. Why should you be the exception? It seems you might be the exception.

Warnings: SMUT 18+; sad boy Lucerys; oral (f! receiving); fingering; soft sex; angst; creampie; fluff; blowjob; a certain blonde getting knocked out; smoking

Words: 15k

Notes: No description of the reader. It came out long but it's literally full of them interacting idk (again). I am not responsible for the media you consume. 7k words of angst and Lucerys finally expressing himself, then 8k words of smut. Enjoy

Lucerys stood at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the sea, his hood pulled up against the misty rain. The salty breeze whipped at his cheeks as he stared at the horizon, watching the sun slowly rise over the watery expanse. His heart felt heavy in his chest, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a physical burden.

He knew leaving you had been selfish, but he couldn't bear the thought of watching you walk away eventually. It was better to cut ties before he lost himself entirely in the depths of his growing feelings for you.

As the sun climbed higher, casting a golden glow across the waves, Lucerys turned away from the sea. He walked slowly back towards home, his footsteps heavy and leaden. He knew he'd have to face you eventually, to explain himself.

But for now, he couldn't bring himself to go back, to see the confusion and hurt that would surely be etched across your lovely face.

There was Jacaerys, already out, pushing the lawnmower back and forth across the thick green grass. The family dogs raced around the yard, barking loudly as if they were excited for the day ahead. Jacaerys caught a glimpse of his brother from the corner of his eye. At first, a scowl formed on his face, but it quickly transformed into a look of concern when he noticed the troubled expression on his younger brother's face.

"Hey man, what happened? Where were you all night? Mum was worried sick," he asked, stepping forward and placing his hands gently on Lucerys’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks. Although he was older, Lucerys had already grown taller, which made the interaction feel a little awkward.

Lucerys let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the night still resting on his shoulders. He didn’t want to dive into the details, especially not about the person who had been on his mind for hours. 

"I'm fine," he muttered, trying to brush past Jacaerys, but his brother’s raised eyebrow made him pause. Jacaerys didn’t press any further. There was something in Lucerys' eyes that told him there was more to the story, but he chose to let his younger brother have his space for now.

For days, Lucerys had been distant and withdrawn, as if a fog had settled over him. His family noticed the change, exchanging worried glances when he entered a room. His friends, usually able to draw him out, were puzzled by his silence. This new quietness felt different, heavier. He barely even spoke to his brothers, whose playful banter now seemed to echo off a wall he had built around himself, leaving everyone uneasy.

You had spent countless days searching for him, but it felt like he had completely disappeared after that stormy night, leaving you trapped in heavy silence. You felt isolated and abandoned. Glorina had noticed the change in you. She worried as she watched you eat less and spend all day cooped up inside, only to venture out to the docks at night, searching for someone who might never return.

You barely spoke to her, and each day that passed filled you with guilt, but the truth was that Lucerys had shattered something deep inside you. You needed him to come back and mend what was broken.

How could he have looked at you with such warmth? How could he have held you so closely, with a tenderness that made you believe everything would be alright? And then, just like that, he vanished, leaving nothing but unanswered questions and a growing emptiness. You felt a desperate need for him to explain, to heal your wound.

After wandering through the small town again, your heart felt heavy with each step. The familiar streets now seemed foreign and blank. But then, in the distance, you spotted a figure—brown curly hair peeking out from beneath a dark hoodie. Your heart raced, pounding loudly in your chest as you hurried towards him. “Lucerys,” you choked out, your voice barely a whisper as you got close enough for him to hear.

But as you reached him, your heart sank. Instead of Lucerys, it was his older brother standing there, wearing an unamused expression that only deepened your sense of disappointment.

You stood frozen, your breath catching in your throat as Jacaerys turned to face you. His expression softened slightly when he registered the look on your face—a mix of desperation and heartbreak you couldn’t hide.

“You’re looking for Lucerys,” he said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Do you know where he is?”

Jacaerys sighed, shaking his head as if he were deciding how much to tell you. “Look, he’s been… different lately. Distant.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You have something to do with that, don’t you?”

His question wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t kind, either. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Jacaerys frowned, stepping closer. “Listen,” he said, his voice lower now, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but Lucerys doesn’t need this right now. He’s got enough to deal with without… whatever this is.”

You felt your frustration rise, the sting of his words hitting harder than you expected. “Whatever this is?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “I care about him. I just want to talk to him—”

“To do what?” Jacaerys interrupted, his tone sharp. “To pull him in deeper? To make him care about you even more before you leave town and break his heart?”

His words struck a nerve, and you flinched, the truth you’d been avoiding suddenly laid bare. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jacaerys’s gaze softened slightly, but his expression remained firm. “Then do him a favour and leave him alone.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. But before you could respond, the sound of a door slamming open behind Jacaerys cut through the tension like a knife.

“Jace!” Lucerys’s voice rang out, sharp and angry. “What the hell are you doing?”

Your heart lurched as Lucerys stepped outside, his green eyes blazing with fury as they flicked between you and his brother. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept, but the fire in his expression was undeniable.

Jacaerys turned to face his younger brother, his stance shifting to match Lucerys’s intensity. “I’m trying to protect you, Luke,” he said evenly.

Lucerys scoffed, stepping closer. “By what? Telling her to leave? Acting like I can’t make my own decisions?”

“She’s going to hurt you, Lucerys,” Jacaerys shot back, his voice rising.

“I’m not a child anymore!” Lucerys shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I can make my own decisions. And if I get hurt, that’s my problem—not yours!”

The rawness in his voice made your chest tighten, and you took a hesitant step forward. “Lucerys—”

He turned to you, his expression softening for just a moment before the walls went back up. “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice quieter but still tense.

“Because I needed to see you,” you said honestly, your voice trembling. “I needed to understand why you left. Why you just… disappeared.”

Lucerys ran a hand through his curls, his frustration evident. “I—” he started, then stopped, his gaze darting to Jacaerys as if trying to decide how much he could say with his brother standing there.

Jacaerys sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Fine,” he muttered. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

He brushed past Lucerys, throwing you a pointed look before disappearing back into the house.

For a moment, the only sound was the distant crash of waves and the faint barking of dogs from the backyard.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” Lucerys said finally, his voice barely audible. “I just… I couldn’t stay.”

You stepped closer, your hands trembling as you reached for him. “Why not?”

“Because you make me lose control,” he admitted, his green eyes locking onto yours. “And I can’t afford that. I can’t—” He broke off, shaking his head as if trying to push the words away.

“You can’t afford to feel something real?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Because that’s what this is, Lucerys. It’s real.”

He stared at you, his jaw tightening as he fought against the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Real doesn’t mean it won’t fall apart,” he said bitterly. “It doesn’t mean you’ll stay.”

“Then let me decide that,” you said, stepping closer until there was almost no space between you. “Stop pushing me away because you’re scared.”

Lucerys closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of everything he’d been carrying had finally become too much. “I don’t know how to stop,” he whispered.

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache, and you reached out, your hand brushing lightly against his. “Then let me help you,” you said softly. “We can figure it out together.”

Lucerys opened his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the walls crumble—the fear, the longing, and the fragile hope he’d been trying so hard to hide.

But just as quickly, he pulled away, taking a step back. “I don’t know if I can,” he said quietly.

You watched him retreat, your heart breaking all over again as the distance between you grew.

Lucerys stood still, his green eyes flickering with a mix of fear and frustration. You could see the storm brewing behind them, the turmoil he was trying so hard to keep contained.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp. He took a step back, putting more space between you, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Your heart clenched, but you refused to let him shut you out. “Why not? What are you so afraid of, Lucerys?”

His laugh was bitter, almost a scoff. “You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t know who I am—who my family is.”

“I know enough,” you shot back, your voice trembling. “I know you’re kind. I know you care more than you want people to believe. I know you—”

“You don’t!” he interrupted, his voice rising. His expression twisted into something close to anguish. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a Velaryon in this town. People see us, and they see trouble. They see a family of screw-ups who can’t do anything right.”

“I don’t see that,” you said firmly, your own voice cracking with the weight of your emotions.

“Maybe not now,” he said bitterly. “But you will. Everyone does.”

You stared at him, your chest aching with frustration and hurt. “Why do you care so much about what other people think? You’re not them, Lucerys.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes darting away from yours. “It’s not just what they think. It’s what’s true.” He paused, his hands clenching tighter. “Jace and I—we’ve done things. We’ve had to. My friends… they’re not exactly saints. You don’t belong anywhere near us.”

“Is this about your friends?” you asked, stepping closer despite the tension radiating from him. “Or is this about you?”

Lucerys flinched, your words hitting deeper than you’d expected. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading “They’re into things—illegal things. And I’m not—” He stopped, running a hand through his curls. “I’m not perfect either, okay? I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”

“And you think that makes you unworthy?” you asked, your voice soft but steady. “You think that makes you less deserving of someone who cares about you?”

Lucerys didn’t answer, his jaw tightening as his gaze dropped to the ground.

“I don’t care about the mistakes you’ve made,” you continued, stepping closer. “I care about you. The you who’s standing right here, right now. The you who’s scared to let someone in because you’ve been hurt before.”

“That’s not the only reason,” he muttered, his voice so low you almost missed it.

“Then tell me the real reason,” you pressed, desperation creeping into your tone. “Stop hiding behind your family and your friends and your reputation. Tell me what you’re so scared of, Lucerys.”

He finally looked up, his green eyes blazing with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m scared of harming you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m scared that if you get too close, I’ll ruin you the way I ruin everything else.”

The raw honesty in his voice left you breathless. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest.

“You won’t ruin me,” you said softly, stepping closer until you were just a breath away. “You’re not the monster you think you are, Lucerys. You’re just… scared. And I get that. But you don’t have to push me away because of it.”

Lucerys stared at you, his expression a mix of longing and despair. “You don’t understand what you’re asking,” he said quietly. “You think you can just fix me, but you can’t. I’m not some… broken thing you can put back together.”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” you said firmly, your voice trembling. “I just want to be here for you. If you let me.”

He looked away again, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his own thoughts. “And when you realise I’m not worth it?”

You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his. “Then I’ll let you be the one to decide that,” you said softly.

Lucerys let out a shaky breath, his green eyes searching yours. For a moment, it seemed like he might let you in.

But then he shook his head, stepping back once more. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how to let someone in without losing everything.”

The anguish in his voice brought tears to your eyes, but you refused to look away. “Then let me show you how,” you said, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “Let me prove that you don’t have to lose everything to have something real.”

Lucerys didn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the ground. But this time, he didn’t take another step back. He stayed rooted in place, the cracks in his defences growing wider with every passing second.

And though the storm between you hadn’t yet passed, you could feel the first rays of hope breaking through the clouds.

"C'mon," Luke said, nodding towards the road, and you followed him, away from his house. He reached into the back pocket of his faded jeans and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds, the familiar red and white packaging crinkling slightly in his hand. "Smoke?" he offered, a hint of a smile on his face.

You didn't really smoke—not regularly, anyway—but something about the moment made you want to connect with him. "Sure," you replied, hoping it didn’t sound too eager. 

Without hesitation, he flicked the lighter, the flame dancing briefly before catching the tip of your cigarette. He watched as you took your first drag, his gaze lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes.

As you exhaled, the smoke curled between you, a shared breath of something unspoken. "Sorry," you whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He shook his head, leaning back against the cool wall of the corner store, a casual stance that made him seem more relaxed, even charming.

"Is Jacaerys right?"

You paused...

"Yeah... I am leaving at the end of the summer..." You trailed off, inhaling the smoke again as a soft breeze ruffled your hair, carrying the scent of the city mixed with a hint of your own nervousness.

Lucerys’s relaxed posture stiffened slightly at your words. He glanced away, his jaw tightening as he took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring briefly in the dim light. When he exhaled, the smoke curled around him, hazy and uncertain, much like the emotions swirling between you.

“So that’s it, then,” he said, his voice low but edged with bitterness. “You’re just gonna leave. Like everyone else.”

His words hit you harder than you’d expected. You blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “Lucerys, it’s not like that,” you said quickly, your voice trembling.

“Isn’t it?” He turned to face you fully, his green eyes blazing with something raw and unfiltered. “You say it’s not, but that’s exactly what’s happening, isn’t it? You’ll leave, and I’ll still be here, stuck in this place.”

“That doesn’t mean what I feel for you isn’t real,” you said, your voice cracking under the weight of his accusation. “Just because I have to leave doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. “That’s what they all say,” he muttered. “They all say they care, that it’s real. And then they leave. Every damn time.”

“I’m not them!” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “I’m not your dad, or your friends, or whoever else left you behind. I’m here now, Lucerys.”

“Yeah, now,” he snapped, his voice rising. “But not later. Not when it matters.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, the tension thick enough to cut. You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear he was trying so hard to mask with anger.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “I don’t want to be another person who lets you down. But I don’t know how to change what’s happening. I can’t just… stay.”

“Then don’t pretend this means anything,” he said harshly, his voice breaking at the edges.

You flinched, his words cutting deeper than he probably intended. “It does mean something,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “It means everything to me.”

Lucerys looked at you then, his green eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in your words. For a moment, the fire in his gaze softened, replaced by something far more fragile.

“But you’re still leaving,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “I don’t want to. But I don’t have a choice.”

He let out a shaky breath, raking a hand through his curls. “There’s always a choice,” he murmured, though he didn’t sound like he believed it.

The silence between you was deafening, the words you both wanted to say hanging in the air, unspoken. Finally, Lucerys turned away, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his emotions.

“Go ahead and say it,” he muttered, his voice bitter but hollow. “Say 'you’ll miss me'. Say 'you’ll never forget me'. It doesn’t matter.”

You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “It does matter,” you said softly, your voice trembling with the weight of your feelings. “Lucerys, you matter to me.”

He froze under your touch, his breath hitching. For a moment, it felt like the barriers he’d built around himself might crumble entirely. But then he shook his head, stepping out of your reach.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t watch you leave. I just… I can’t.”

“Lucerys—”

“No,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but unsteady. “Just… don’t. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

"Just go ahead and leave."

And before you could say anything else, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night and leaving you standing there, your heart breaking into pieces, all over again.

Lucerys walked quickly, his boots crunching against the gravel road as he put as much distance as he could between himself and you. His chest ached, a deep, suffocating pain that refused to go away, no matter how hard he tried to push it down.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the crumpled cigarette pack. His mind raced, every word you’d said replaying in his head like a song stuck on repeat.

You matter to me.

Your voice lingered, soft and trembling, but full of conviction. It had felt like a lifeline, something he wanted to grab onto, to believe in. But the fear… the fear of losing you, of losing himself, had been stronger.

“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath, his voice bitter. “So fucking stupid.”

He wanted to turn back, to find you and tell you he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t want you to leave, that he didn’t want to be alone again. But his feet kept moving forward, away from you, as if they were acting on their own.

Because deep down, he knew he wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t enough to make you stay.

He wasn’t enough to deserve the way you looked at him like he was something worth saving.

Lucerys clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists inside his pockets. The anger simmered beneath the surface, not at you, but at himself—at the boy who could never seem to hold onto anything good.

When he finally stopped walking, he found himself standing at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The waves crashed against the rocks below, loud and unforgiving, their rhythm steady and endless.

Lucerys stared out at the horizon, his breath uneven as he tried to quiet the storm inside him. The wind whipped at his curls, and the salty spray of the sea clung to his skin, but he barely noticed.

He pulled the pack of Marlboros from his pocket, his hands trembling as he fished out a cigarette. The lighter flickered in the wind, the flame struggling to hold on before finally catching.

As he took a long drag, the burn in his chest distracted him from the ache in his heart, if only for a moment. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around him and disappearing into the night air.

“This is for the best,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the roar of the waves.

If he let himself believe in you, in what you’d said, it would only make the pain worse when you left. And you would leave. Everyone always did.

It was easier this way—cutting the cord now before it could wrap around his throat and choke him.

But as the minutes stretched on, Lucerys couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your eyes had shimmered with tears, the way your voice had cracked when you’d told him he mattered.

It wasn’t fair.

He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his curls as he paced along the edge of the cliff.

“Damn it,” he muttered the words barely a growl.

He dropped the cigarette, grinding it into the dirt with his boot. The frustration boiled over, his emotions spilling out as he kicked at a loose rock, sending it tumbling into the sea below.

Lucerys pressed his hands to his face, his fingers digging into his skin as he fought the urge to scream.

He hated this. Hated the way he felt, hated the way you made him feel. Like maybe, just maybe, he was worth something. But he wasn’t.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he sank to the ground, his back resting against the jagged rocks behind him.

The waves continued their relentless rhythm, drowning out the sound of his uneven breathing. Lucerys sat there, his heart heavy with regret and the unbearable weight of what could have been.

You were lost, stuck in a whirlpool of thoughts. Leaving him felt impossible, yet staying seemed even worse. This place—this wasn’t your home.

You slid down the rough wall of the store he had walked away from, feeling the cool concrete against your back. Tears seeped down your cheeks, unchecked and warm. The cigarette he had given you was only a stub now, but you still cradled it in your fingers, as if it were the last trace of him you’d ever have.

Was this it? The final moment you both shared?

Maybe dropping the bomb that you were leaving right when he was starting to accept you back was a mistake. But you didn’t want to be dishonest. It hurt more to pretend when you knew you’d eventually walk away, leaving him behind.

"You alright?" A voice knocked you from your thoughts. It wasn't the one you wanted to hear—definitely not. Looking up, you saw a guy with short blonde hair and a cashier name-tag that read Aegon. 

"No," you muttered, your tone flat and honest. You figured he wouldn’t really care either way.

"I saw that little fight of yours with your boyfriend," he said with a chuckle, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Not my boyfriend," you shot back, bitterness creeping in.

"Right, whatever. But man, that was one of the more entertaining things I’ve seen in a while," he said, lighting up his own cigarette and taking a long drag, the smoke swirling around him. He coughed lightly, then continued, seemingly unfazed.

"You should be glad he’s not your boyfriend though. Stabbed my brother's eye out when we were kids, yeah... brutal stuff." He sighed, but there was a strange twinkle of amusement in his eyes as if he found the memory funny.

You stared at him, bewildered. He didn’t notice your confusion or maybe just didn’t care as he rambled on.

"Yeah, his friends are into moving dope around the city. Not him, though. But, I mean, how long until it's up his nose too, right?" He laughed as if he’d just shared a hilarious joke rather than dropping some serious dirt about his mates. 

"Right..." you dragged the word out, looking down to focus on the ground, trying to shake off the weight of what he had just said.

"Best forget about that lad, you’re way too pretty for him anyway," he tossed over his shoulder with a wink before sauntering back inside. You were left sitting there, alone with your swirling mix of emotions and the unsettling new pieces of information. Was this what Luke was trying to keep from you?

You needed to find him.

The air felt heavier than usual as you stepped out into the early evening, the fading sunlight casting a muted golden glow over the small town. The last few days had passed in a blur—your thoughts endlessly looping back to Lucerys, the fight, and Aegon’s careless words.

You hadn’t seen Lucerys since that night. No matter how many times you’d wandered near the docks or the places he might haunt, he was always just out of reach, like a shadow you couldn’t catch. It left you hollow, the ache of missing him growing stronger with each passing day.

Tonight, though, you’d let Glorina talk you into going out. She’d called it a “gathering,” though it was clear from the noise spilling into the street that it was just a casual get-together at one of the local bars.

The bar was crowded and buzzing with laughter, the sound of clinking glasses and faint music filling the space. You hadn’t meant to stay this long, but Glorina had been insistent that you “go out and have a little fun.” And now here you were, nursing a watered-down drink and trying to navigate the polite conversation with a guy whose name you only vaguely remembered.

Aegon, you thought, watching as he leaned casually against the bar, a devil-may-care smirk plastered across his face.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “you’re too gorgeous to be sitting here looking all serious. Someone break your heart?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m fine,” you said, your tone clipped, though his boldness made it hard to hide a small, amused smile.

Aegon grinned, leaning in slightly. “That smile says otherwise. Bet I could make you forget whatever’s got you looking so lost.”

“I’m not lost,” you replied, but there was an edge of annoyance in your voice now.

From across the room, Lucerys watched the interaction like a predator tracking its prey. His green eyes narrowed, his grip on his beer glass so tight it threatened to shatter. Jacaerys and Joffrey sat beside him, trying to engage him in conversation, but Lucerys barely heard a word.

“Luke?” Jacaerys nudged his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You good?”

Lucerys didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed firmly on you and Aegon, his chest tightening as he watched the blonde lean in closer, his smirk widening with every passing second.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Without a word, Lucerys stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushed it back. Jacaerys and the others looked up in surprise, but Lucerys was already moving, his strides purposeful and quick as he crossed the room.

You barely had time to register Lucerys’ approach before it happened. One moment, Aegon was leaning in, his hand casually brushing against yours on the bar. The next, he was stumbling backwards, Lucerys’s hand on his chest as he shoved him hard.

“What the hell?” Aegon barked, catching himself against the edge of a table.

Lucerys didn’t reply. His fist flew before you could even process what was happening, connecting with Aegon’s jaw in a sharp, brutal motion. The crack of bone echoed above the noise of the bar, and Aegon staggered, clutching his face.

“Lucerys!” you shouted, grabbing his arm to pull him back, but he was like a live wire, his whole body trembling with adrenaline and anger.

“What’s your problem, man?” Aegon spat, straightening up and wiping a smear of blood from his lip.

“You,” Lucerys growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Stay the hell away from her.”

Aegon laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Jealous much? Didn’t realize she was your property.”

Lucerys lunged forward again, but you stepped between them, pressing your hands against his chest. “Stop it, Lucerys!” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

For a moment, Lucerys didn’t move, his green eyes locked onto Aegon’s with a searing intensity. Then, slowly, he let out a sharp breath, his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“Yeah, walk away,” Aegon muttered, smirking despite the pain. “Big man with your cheap punches.”

Lucerys didn’t react, but you felt the tension radiating off him as you guided him toward the door. The bar was eerily quiet now, all eyes on the two of you as you stepped outside into the cool night air.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded once you were out of earshot, turning to face him.

Lucerys raked a hand through his curls, pacing in front of you like a caged animal. “He was all over you,” he snapped, his voice low but sharp.

“He wasn’t doing anything,” you argued, your voice rising. “He was just talking to me!”

“Talking?” Lucerys scoffed, his green eyes blazing. “That’s what you call that? I saw the way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you—”

You cut him off, your frustration boiling over. “Why do you even care, Lucerys? You’re the one who keeps pushing me away!”

The words seemed to hit him like a physical blow, and he stopped pacing, his chest heaving as he stared at you. “Because I can’t stand it,” he said finally, his voice raw and trembling. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you—to him, to anyone.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, but your own anger and hurt kept you from softening entirely. “Then stop pushing me away,” you said, your voice cracking. “Stop acting like you don’t care when we both know you do!”

Lucerys looked at you, his green eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear. And then, before you could say anything else, he grabbed your face and pulled you close.

Your foreheads rested together as the world around you seemed to fade away. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“Then stop running,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

Lucerys closed his eyes, his grip on you tightening like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

“So am I,” you whispered. “But I’m not going anywhere, Lucerys. Not unless you push me away again.”

He let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly, as if letting go would shatter him completely.

Lucerys held you tightly, his breath uneven as his forehead rested against yours. The warmth of his body anchored you, but you could feel the storm raging inside him, the walls he was still trying so desperately to keep standing.

You couldn’t let this moment pass without saying what had been sitting heavy on your chest for days.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your admission.

Lucerys pulled back slightly, his green eyes narrowing in confusion. “Know what?”

You hesitated, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his hoodie. “I know about your past. What you’ve done. What your friends are into.”

The shift in his posture was immediate. His body stiffened, his jaw tightening as his gaze dropped. “Who told you?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

“You mentioned it briefly, but... Aegon,” you admitted quietly, watching as his expression darkened. “He didn’t say much—just enough for me to put the pieces together.”

Lucerys let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stepped back, breaking the fragile connection between you. “Of course he did,” he muttered. “Bet he loved twisting the knife.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you said, leaning toward him, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said flatly. “You know now. So what are you still doing here?”

“Because I care about you,” you said, your voice cracking with emotion. “I care about who you are, not what you’ve done.”

Lucerys laughed again, harsher this time, the sound cutting through you like glass. “You say that now, but you don’t get it. You don’t know the things I’ve done—the people I’ve been around. My friends, the shit they’re into… that’s my world. You don’t belong in it.”

“Maybe I don’t know everything,” you admitted, stepping closer. “But I don’t care about any of that, Lucerys. I care about you.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his curls. “You don’t understand what you’re saying. You think this is some fairytale where I can just walk away from everything and be good enough for you?” He turned away, his shoulders tense. “I can’t. I’ll just destroy you like I destroy everything else.”

“You won’t,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill.

He turned back to you, his green eyes blazing with anger and anguish. “You don’t know that!” he snapped. “People like me don’t get to have happy endings.”

The line hit you like a blow, the raw pain in his voice cutting deep. But you didn’t back down.

“Good men die too,” you said softly, your voice trembling as you met his gaze. “I’d rather be with you.”

Lucerys stared at you, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. The words you’d just spoken hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Good men die too, I’d rather be with you.

He wanted to believe you, to let himself fall into the promise of those words, but his fear twisted into something darker. He turned away, running a hand through his curls as if trying to erase the weight of the moment.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he muttered, his voice low and tense. “You think I’m just some kid with a bad temper? My family... You have no idea what my family’s like.”

You took a cautious step closer, your heart pounding in the still, eerie quiet. “Then tell me the truth, Lucerys. Stop shutting me out.”

He laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humour. “You really want the truth?” he said, his hand clenching into a tight fist, shaking with the weight of his anger. “The truth is, my mom keeps a gun in the kitchen drawer, not just for show. She doesn’t trust a soul in this town. My brothers and I learned to shoot before we learned how to ride bikes because in this town... because 'we needed to know how to defend ourselves'." He exhaled sharply, his shoulders stiff. “That’s my family. That’s the world I come from. You don’t belong anywhere near it.”

The confession left you breathless, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy fog. You could see the fear and anger he’d been hiding spilling out in jagged fragments.

“That doesn’t scare me,” you said quietly, taking another step toward him.

He turned to face you, his green eyes blazing. “It should!” he snapped. “God, it should! You think you can just walk into my life and fix this? Fix me?”

“No,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “I don’t think I can fix you, Lucerys. But I’m not scared of you or your family, and I’m not running away!”

He let out a sharp breath, his gaze dropping to the ground. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice softening but losing none of its edge. “I don’t want you to end up like them. Bitter. Angry. Always looking over your shoulder, wondering if the people around you will stick a knife in your back.”

You hesitated, the rawness in his voice making your chest ache. “That’s not going to happen,” you said softly. “You’re not like them, Lucerys. I see the good in you, even if you can’t.”

“You’re going to regret this,” he said quietly, his voice trembling.

“No,” you replied, your voice steady. “The only thing I’d regret is walking away from you.”

Lucerys stared at you, his jaw tightening as his emotions warred within him. And then, like a dam breaking, he grabbed your face and kissed you, his hands trembling as they cradled your cheeks.

The kiss was desperate, almost frantic, his lips moving against yours like he was trying to say everything he couldn’t put into words. You melted into him, your hands clutching at his hoodie as the tension between you finally broke.

Lucerys kissed you with a fierce intensity, his trembling hands gripping your face tightly as if trying to pour every unspoken fear and desire into the desperate press of his lips against yours. The heat of his skin, the rapid pulse of his heartbeat against your chest, the shaky gasps of breath he took between kisses—it was all a testament to the turmoil raging inside him. He couldn't run from this, from you, anymore. Not when every fibre of his being screamed at him to pull you closer.

You gazed up at Lucerys, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you shook your head in amused exasperation. "You're so stupid," you sighed, your thumb brushing lightly over his kiss-swollen lip. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the slight tremble that still lingered there. "So stupid if you think you can push me away that easily."

Leaning in, you captured his lips in another kiss, this one softer, more deliberate. You savoured the taste of him, the way his mouth moved against yours with a newfound sense of desperation. Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the racing beat of his heart beneath your palms.

You poured all your own fears and hopes into the kiss, wanting him to feel the depth of your trust. You weren't going anywhere, no matter how much he might want to run. You were here, and you were choosing him.

As you pulled back, you looked into his eyes, your own shining with unshed tears and unspoken promises. "You can't scare me off, Lucerys," you whispered, your voice low and fierce.

Lucerys stared down at you, his green eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. Your words, spoken with such fierce conviction, seemed to penetrate the walls he'd built around his heart. He could feel them chipping away, could feel the cracks letting in the light of your unwavering faith in him.

A single tear slipped down his cheek as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheekbones. "You're crazy," he whispered, a hint of wonder in his voice. "Crazy to want to be with someone like me."

He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours as he tried to gather the courage to say what he needed to say. Lucerys took a deep, shuddering breath, his hands trembling as they cradled your face.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "But I know I can't let you go." He buried his face in your hair and breathed in your scent. "Stay with me," he murmured, his arms tightening around you like a lifeline. "Don't let me push you away. Please."

Your heart swelled as Lucerys's words washed over me, his raw, trembling confession striking you right in the chest. You gazed up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears, as a single one slid down your cheek.

"I'll stay with you," I breathed out, my voice cracking with the force of my emotion. "I know no that I can't be without you, Lucerys."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck as sobs wracked your body.

Lucerys held you tightly, his own tears flowing freely now as he felt your body shake against his. He stroked your hair, and your back, murmuring words of love and reassurance as he rocked you gently. "Shh, I've got you," he soothed, his voice thick with emotion. "I've got you, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in your scent, letting it calm and centre him.

You crashed your lips against his in a fiery, desperate kiss, throwing your arms around his neck like a woman possessed. Your fingers raked through his messy curls, gripping them tightly as if you could anchor yourself to him forever. The kiss was sloppy, passionate, a messy tangle of lips and tongues and pent-up emotion.

You nipped at his bottom lip, soothing the sting with your tongue before diving back in for more. Your nails dug into the skin of his neck, no doubt leaving marks, claiming him, branding him as mine. You wanted him to feel the force of your desire. To make him believe how much you truly needed him.

Lucerys groaned as you attacked his mouth, your affection igniting a fire in his veins. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back with equal fervour. He could feel your nails digging into his skin, leaving delicious marks of possession. It only spurred him on, urging him to claim you just as thoroughly.

When you broke the kiss, he was left panting, his eyes glazed over with lust. He rested his forehead against yours. "You're going to be the death of me." He nipped at your jaw, your neck, marking you in turn. "But what a way to go," he murmured, his lips brushing your skin.

You looked up at Lucerys through tear-streaked lashes, your heart fluttering in your chest. With a tender touch, you brushed away the tears clinging to his cheeks, your thumb lingering on his skin. A soft, shy smile played on your lips as you met his intense, love-drunk gaze.

Lucerys's breath caught in his throat at your tender touch, his heart swelling with a love so profound it almost hurt. He leaned into your caress, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savoured the gentle brush of your thumb against his skin. A slow, soft smile spread across his face, mirroring your own.

Opening his eyes, Lucerys gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, his purple irises shimmering with unshed tears and a love so intense it stole your breath away. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he inhaled deeply, committing your scent to memory.

"I want to show you how sorry I am," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "Words have never been my strong suit, but I want to try. You wanna come to my place?" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, never having done this before.

He glanced towards the bar, where the sounds of laughter and music still emanated. "I'll make sure my brothers stay out longer. Jace and Joff will be entertained at the bar for hours. And even if they do come home..." Lucerys shrugged, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Who cares. I just want to be alone with you, to show you how much you mean to me."

He held out his hand, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability. "Please, come with me."

Clinging to his side, you let your smaller hand slip into his larger, calloused one. The contrast of your hands, and your bodies, sent a thrill through you.

"Alright, I'll come with you..." you sighed, your voice soft. You pressed yourself closer, your hip against his thigh as you tilted your head to meet his gaze. "But you're sure your brothers won't come home early and interrupt our... private time?" you giggled somewhat nervously but still sounded like a siren's call to him.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he gazed down at you with a grin. "Trust me, love, they won't be back anytime soon. Jace and Joff are too busy being the life of the party to call it a night early." His thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip. "Besides, I've got a few ideas to keep us umm... occupied." His voice dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes glinting with promise.

You followed Lucerys out in the crisp night air, content to walk beside him in the comfortable silence. Occasionally, you found yourself stealing glances at his handsome profile, admiring the strong line of his jaw and how his messy curls fell over his forehead.

As you walked, you let your fingers trace idle patterns on his arm, feeling the firm muscle beneath his hoodie. You were acutely aware of every point where your bodies touched - his hand holding yours, his thigh brushing against your hip with each step.

Lucerys glanced down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he caught you staring. He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I hope you know that." He kept walking, keeping you close to his side as he led you through the quiet streets.

Your cheeks tingled with his sweet words. "I don't mind you reminding me," you breathed out, a small, coy smile on your lips. 

Lucerys chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled down at you. "Good, because I plan to remind you often," he teased, his voice low and warm.

After a short while, you arrived at a big house, the architecture reminiscent of the past. Lucerys led you inside, closing the heavy wooden door behind you. The entryway was dimly lit, with a narrow staircase leading to the second floor. He turned to face you, his hands resting on your waist.

Lucerys gazed down at you, his green eyes darkening with an intensity that made your heart race. "Welcome to my home," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Well, technically, my family's home. But for now, it's ours." He stepped closer, one hand sliding to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. "I want to take you upstairs to my room. I want to... I want to make love to you."

Your heart stopped as his words washed over you, a shiver running down your spine. He wanted to make love to you. Like he was finally letting you in, truly letting you see the real him.

You could only nod slowly. "Uhuh," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't form any other words, rendered speechless by the raw emotion in Lucerys' eyes.

Your hands came to rest on his shoulders, feeling the firmness of his muscles even through his hoodie.

Lucerys gazed down at you, his heart swelling with a love so profound it almost hurt. He could see the desire and trust shining in your eyes, filling him with awe and wonder. Slowly, gently, he leaned down and captured your lips in a soft, tender kiss. His hand slid into your hair, cradling your head as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his love and longing into it. He wanted you to feel it, to understand the depth of his feelings for you.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "I love you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you so much." He pressed another soft kiss to your lips before scooping you into his arms, carrying you bridal style up the narrow staircase. He held you close, protective and possessive, as he navigated the darkened hallways of the old house.

Stopping in front of a heavy wooden door, he kicked it open, revealing a spacious bedroom decorated in rich, cool tones. A large four-poster bed dominated the room, the sheets already turned down invitingly. Lucerys carried you to the bed, laying you down gently on the soft mattress.

Your heart raced as you gazed up at Lucerys, your cheeks flushed and eyes bright with anticipation. Slowly, almost shyly, you slid your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. Next went your shirt, leaving you in jeans and a black lacy bra.

You sat up on your elbows, your hair spilling over your shoulders as you looked at him. You wanted to see him, to feel his skin against yours. Your fingers itched with the need to explore his body, to map out every inch of him.

"Your turn," you whispered, your voice breathy with desire. You tilted your head, a coy smile playing on your lips as you waited for him to bare himself to you.

Slowly, almost reverently, he reached for the hem of his hoodie, pulling it up and over his head. He tossed it aside carelessly, leaving him in a thin white t-shirt that clung to his lean, muscular frame. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, his skin flushed and warm.

He stepped closer to the bed, his hands coming to the hem of his shirt. He paused, his eyes locked with yours, before slowly, teasingly, he peeled the shirt up and off. He tossed it to the side, leaving him bare from the waist up. His chest was lean and toned, with a light dusting of hair trailing down his stomach. A thin scar ran across his collarbone, a memento from a childhood adventure gone wrong. But it only added to his rugged, masculine appeal.

Your heart fluttered as you admired him. You could feel the heat pooling between your thighs.

Sitting up, you reached for the button of your jeans, your fingers trembling slightly as you popped it open. You looked up at Lucerys, your eyes shimmering with nerves and anticipation.

"Could you help me slide these off?" You asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You lifted your hips slightly, a silent invitation for him to assist you.

"Of course," he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, slowly tugging them down your long, shapely legs. He took his time, savouring the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips as he exposed more and more of you to his heated gaze.

As he slid your jeans off completely, he tossed them aside without a care. His hands lingered on your calves, stroking the soft skin gently before trailing back up to your thighs. He could feel you trembling beneath his touch, and it only fueled his desire.

He leaned down, his face hovering inches from your newly exposed skin. He could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of your arousal, and it made his mouth water. Slowly, teasingly, he leaned in and pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. He could feel you tense beneath him, and he smiled against your thigh.

You could feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest, your skin flushed and tingling with anticipation. The dampness between your legs grew, your panties clinging to your folds as evidence of your increasing arousal.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you lost yourself in the sensation, a soft gasp escaping your lips. "Please," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't even realize you'd spoken aloud until you heard the desperation in your own tone. You were so wound up and ready to shatter. And all it took was a few teasing touches from Lucerys's hands and lips.

Lucerys groaned softly as he heard your breathless plea, feeling a surge of masculine pride at how desperately he was affecting you. He could smell your arousal and could feel the heat radiating off your core. It took every ounce of his restraint not to bury his face between your thighs and taste you deeply.

You squirmed beneath his teasing touch, your breathing becoming shallow and uneven. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, twisting the fabric in your fists as you fought the urge to beg him to touch you where you needed it most. You could feel your core clenching, aching for his touch, for some form of relief from the building pressure.

He continued his sensual assault, trailing kisses up your thigh until he reached the lace edge of your panties. He nuzzled against the damp fabric, breathing in your scent and feeling the heat of your sex through the thin material.

His hands slid up to your hips, gripping them gently as he looked up at you with lidded eyes. "You smell so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your panties. "I bet you taste even better."

With that, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your clothed sex, his lips parting slightly to allow his tongue to slip out and lick a slow stripe along your slit. He could feel you twitching beneath him, could hear your gasp of pleasure. It spurred him on, and he continued to lap at you through the fabric, his tongue stroking your folds and circling your clit with deliberate, teasing strokes.

He could feel you growing wetter, your juices seeping through the lace to coat his lips and chin. He groaned softly, the vibrations adding to your pleasure as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth. His hands slid around to grip your ass, squeezing the firm globes as he held you in place, preventing you from squirming away from his relentless onslaught.

You let out a choked moan, your back arching off the bed as Lucerys's tongue worked through the damp lace of your panties. Each stroke sent jolts of electricity through your veins, the fire building rapidly in your core. You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly fast, your body responding to his teasing touches like a live wire.

"Mmm," you whimpered, your fingers fisting in his hair as you tried to grind against his mouth. But his strong hands gripping your ass held you in place, leaving you at the mercy of his relentless teasing. You could feel every lap, every circle around your aching clit, the sensation dulled by the thin barrier of your panties. Your thighs trembled, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Lucerys could feel your body trembling beneath his touch, could hear the desperation in your voice as you moaned and whimpered above him. He knew he was pleasing you and could feel your arousal coating his chin, but he was still learning, still figuring out what you liked best.

He licked and suckled at your clothed sex, his tongue pressing against your clit and circling it sloppily. He could feel it throb against his lips, could hear your breathy cries growing louder and more frequent. Emboldened, he leaned in and caught your clit between his lips, suckling on the sensitive bud as he looked up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

Suddenly, he tugged your panties to the side, exposing your dripping sex to his heated gaze. He whined at the sight, taking a moment to admire your glistening folds before diving in to taste you properly.

Lucerys leaned in, running his tongue along your slit, feeling you clench and flutter around the invasive muscle. He groaned at the taste of you, sweet and tangy. He licked and suckled at your folds, his movements slightly clumsy but eager. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, feeling it swell beneath his touch.

"Oh, Luke!" You cried out, your head falling back against the pillows as you felt his tongue finally make contact with your aching sex. Your eyes rolled back, fluttering shut in bliss as he began to lap at your dripping folds. 

Lucerys paused, looking up at you with a mix of desire and uncertainty in his eyes. "Am I doing this right?" he asked softly, his voice rough and breathless. "Tell me what you need, love. I want to make this amazing for you." His fingers traced teasing circles on your inner thigh as he waited for your guidance, eager to please you in any way he could.

You couldn't hold back the desperate, wanton whine that tore from your throat as he broke away briefly to ask if he was pleasing you. "Mmmm, so good," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. You tangled your fingers in his hair, nestling his head against your sex as you urged him on. "You're doing so, so good. Don't stop, please don't stop." You could feel your climax building rapidly, your core clenching and fluttering around his exploring tongue.

Lucerys groaned softly, feeling your fingers tangle in his hair as you urged him on. The way you bucked your hips, seeking more of his touch, spurred him to continue his sensual assault. He could feel your climax building, could feel your sex clenching and fluttering around his tongue. It made him feel powerful, knowing he could affect you so greatly.

He kissed his way down your thighs, his lips trailing over your soft skin as he made his way to your dripping sex. Impatiently, he tugged your panties off, tossing them carelessly to the side. He wanted to taste you properly, to bury his face in your heat and lose himself in your essence.

Lucerys leaned in, running his tongue along your slit, feeling you clench and flutter around the invading muscle. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he licked and suckled at your folds. His movements were messy, sloppy even, but eager and filled with desire.

He could feel your arousal all over his lower face, could taste your sweetness on his tongue. It made him feel drunk, completely intoxicated by the taste of you. He licked and suckled at your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud as he looked up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

Lucerys let out a low, guttural moan as he continued to pleasure you, his face smudged in your juices. He could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He knew you were close, and he doubled his efforts, determined to make you come undone.

Your eyes rolled back, fluttering shut as you felt your climax building to a crescendo. You couldn't form any words, only incoherent cries of pleasure escaping your lips as your body tensed and tightened. Abruptly, you came undone, your pussy clenching and spasming uncontrollably.

"Ahhh!" You screamed, your voice echoing off the bedroom walls as you gushed all over Lucerys's eager face. You could feel your slick arousal pouring out of you, soaking his lips and the lower half of his face completely. Your stomach muscles contracted, your back arching off the bed as you rode out the intense waves of your orgasm.

Lucerys continued to lap at you, his tongue stroking your fluttering walls as you came down from your high. You collapsed onto the bed, your chest heaving and your skin flushed and glistening with sweat. "Stop! It's too...ahh! So sensitive...mm," you whimpered, thighs trembling around his face.

As your body began to relax, he slowly pulled back, looking up at you with a satisfied, almost drunk grin, his chin and cheeks glistening with your juices. "You're so pretty when you come."

He pressed a soft kiss to your sensitive sex before trailing his lips up your quivering stomach, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. He paused to press a kiss to your breast, his tongue darting out to flick over the hardened peak of your nipple, wrapping his lips around the hardening bud through the lace.

His actions made you let out a whimper and you could feel your arousal dripping onto the sheets, a wet patch appearing there. The lace of your bra began to stick to your skin, Lucerys' wet mouth all over your breast.

"Mmmh," you breathed out, your voice high and needy. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to your breast.

Lucerys whined as he felt your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to your breast. He could feel your nipple hardening under his tongue, your skin warm against his lips. He suckled gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as he gazed up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

His hand slid up your side, cupping your breast and squeezing gently as he continued to lavish attention on your chest. He could feel your heart racing beneath his palm, could hear your breath coming in soft pants and whimpers. It made him feel powerful, knowing he could affect you so deeply.

He trailed his fingers along the edge of your bra, toying with the clasp. He glanced up at you, his eyes questioning. "Can I...?" he asked softly, his voice rough with desire. At your nod, he deftly unclasped your bra, tossing it aside to reveal your bare breasts to his heated gaze.

Soon enough his mouth was back on your tit, making you let out a sharp gasp. Your fingers caressed his soft curls, gently stroking his hair as he suckled and tugged on the hardened peak with his teeth.

Lucerys groaned softly as he felt your fingers in his hair, your gentle touch making his cock throb.

"I want... I want to make you feel good too," you whispered breathlessly, your voice thick with desire. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, hard and insistent, and it made you ache to touch him, to taste him, to feel him inside you.

He could hear the need in your voice. It made him pulsate with desire, his arousal straining against his jeans.

He pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a heated gaze. "You already do," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Making you feel good makes me feel incredible." He pressed another soft kiss to your breast before trailing his lips up to your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your throat.

All the while, he rutted against your thigh. The friction was maddening, teasing, not enough but oh so good. His breathing grew ragged, his heart pounding as he lost himself in you.

He slid a hand down your body, his fingers skimming over your stomach, and your hips, before cupping your sex possessively. He could feel the heat radiating off you, could feel your slick arousal coating his fingers as he stroked along your slit. He groaned against your neck, his hips jerking sharply at the feel of your dripping sex.

"Fuck," he panted, his voice strained with desire. He circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, feeling it swell beneath his touch. His fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance, before slowly pushing inside your tight heat. He groaned at the feel of your walls clenching around the invading digits, your body welcoming him in.

You choked on a moan as his fingers began pumping inside you, your greedy little cunt clenching hungrily around the delicious stretch. A needy whimper escaped your lips as he massaged my most sensitive spots.

Unable to resist any longer, your hand drifted down to cup the hard, straining length of him through his jeans. You could feel him throbbing against your palm. You applied pressure, rubbing along his impressive size, feeling him twitch eagerly against your touch.

You gazed at him with hooded, lust-darkened eyes, your voice breathless and heavy with desire. "I need to make you feel good," you insisted, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want to taste you, to feel you in my mouth, to make you feel as good as you make me feel.."

With that, you gently pushed him onto his back on the soft mattress, kneeling next to him as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Lucerys moaned into the kiss, his fingers still pumping slowly inside your dripping sex. He could feel your hand rubbing along his aching length, the pressure and friction delicious torture. He thrust his hips up into your touch, seeking more of that incredible sensation.

He broke the kiss with a gasp, his chest heaving as he looked up at you with lust-glazed eyes. "Fuck, yes," he panted, his voice strained with desire. "I want that more than anything."

He watched through hooded eyes as you slowly slid down his body, your fingers trailing over his chest, his stomach, before reaching for the button of his jeans. He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug his jeans and boxers down his legs. His hard cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a smear of precum on his skin.

He shuddered as the cool air hit his heated flesh, his cock twitching under your gaze. Lucerys tangled his fingers in your hair, gently guiding you down to his lap.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice high and needy. "I need your mouth on me, need to feel your lips wrapped around my cock. Please." His words were punctuated by the thrust of his hips, his cock bobbing with each movement as he sought your touch.

You smiled at the needy tone in his voice, your heart melting at his desperate plea. "I'll make you feel so good...," I purred, "...baby boy," you added in a barely audible whisper. You leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the trail of hair, leading from his navel down to the base of his impressive cock.

When you called him 'baby boy' in that sweet, breathy tone, he let out a soft, strangled moan. His hips jerked off the bed, a fresh spurt of precum beading at the swollen tip.

A deep blush spread across his cheeks and neck at the unexpectedly intimate endearment. It made him feel cherished, desired, and strangely vulnerable in the best way possible.

"Fuck, I love hearing you call me that," he breathed out, his voice trembling slightly. "Please, I need your mouth on me. I'm going crazy."

Wrapping your hand around his thick shaft, you licked a slow stripe from base to tip, savouring the taste of his skin, the scent of his arousal. You could feel him pulsing in your grasp and could see the bead of precum glistening at the pink head of his cock.

You stroked him slowly, your hand gliding along his velvet-soft skin, feeling him twitch and pulse beneath your touch. You spat on his tip, letting your saliva dribble down his length.

He watched, enraptured, as you spat on his tip, the saliva trickling down his hard cock. It was so filthy, so dirty, and yet so fucking hot. He groaned at the sight, his cock jumping and leaking even more precum at the erotic display.

Lucerys could feel the heat building in his core, could feel his orgasm already threatening to overwhelm him. It was intense and all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

You slowly leaned in, placing kitten licks and soft, teasing kisses along his tip, your breath hot against his sensitive flesh.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he gasped out, his voice strained and high with pleasure. He could feel every flick and lick of your tongue. "Please," he whimpered, his voice breaking slightly. "I need more. I need to feel your lips around me."

You need more?" you purred, your voice low and teasing, a coy smile on your lips.

At his desperate nod, you leaned in, wrapping your soft, plump lips around the head of his cock. You could feel it throb against your tongue as you slowly took him deeper, inch by thick inch disappearing between your lips until the tip kissed the back of your throat.

Lucerys let out a choked moan as your lips wrapped around his sensitive cock, your hot mouth engulfing him completely. "Oh fuck, oh god," he panted, his fingers tightening in your hair as you took him deeper. He could feel the head of his cock kissing the back of your throat, and it made his hips jerk up involuntarily.

"I've never... fuck... I can't believe how good this feels." He looked down at you with lust-darkened eyes, watching as more and more of his hard length disappeared between your stretched lips with each bob of your head.

He could hardly form a coherent thought, his mind hazing with pleasure as you took him deeper and deeper. The sight of your mouth stretched around him, the feeling of your tongue gliding along his shaft, it was almost too much to bear.

Lucerys's hips jerked up involuntarily, seeking more of that amazing sensation. He could feel your throat convulsing around him as you adjusted to his size, and it made him groan deeply. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, his skin flushed and sweaty.

You let out a gag as Lucerys thrust into your mouth, tears springing to your eyes from the sudden intrusion. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears as you gazed up at him with glossy, watery eyes.

The salty drops trickled down your cheeks, leaving a glistening trail on your soft skin. You could feel your makeup starting to run, but you didn't care. All you cared about was pleasing him.

Lucerys's heart clenched at the sight of your tears, a pang of concern and tenderness mixing with the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. "Shit, I'm sorry," he gasped out, immediately stilling his hips and gentling his grip on your hair. "I didn't mean to be so rough. Are you alright?" His hand gentled in your hair, no longer gripping, but caressing softly, his thumb brushing away the salty drops on your cheek.

But even as he said it, his hips jerked up accidentally, seeking the heat of your mouth once more. He was so close to the edge, his orgasm building rapidly in his heavy balls, heart racing at the erotic sight of your glistening, tear-stained cheeks and his hard cock stretching your lips.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he panted. "I just... I need..." He couldn't even finish his sentence, too lost in the sensation of your mouth around him.

With great reluctance, he pulled you off his throbbing shaft, watching as it bobbed and jerked in the cool air. The thick head was a deep, angry red, leaking copious amounts of precum.

Your heart swelled at his tender concern, warmed by the worry in his voice. You gently squeezed his thick shaft, feeling it pulse and twitch in your grasp.

"Shh, it's okay," you murmured, voice low and soothing. "You didn't hurt me at all. I promise." You leaned in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. You could taste the salty essence of his arousal on your tongue, and it made you crave more.

Lucerys shuddered as he felt your soft lips press against the sensitive head of his cock, your soothing words and gentle touch helping to calm his frayed nerves. He looked down at you with hooded, desperate eyes, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.

"Do you want me to continue?" You asked softly, your eyes gazing up at him with innocence and sultry promise. Your hand slowly stroked along his hard length, twisting gently as you awaited his response.

"Please, I'm so close," he whimpered, desperation clear in his tone. "Can you... will you... I need to come so badly." His fingers tightened in your hair, gently urging you back down to his aching cock. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. I just... I need to feel your mouth on me again. Please."

He was usually so much more in control. Still, something about you, about this moment, had stripped away all his defences until he was left bare and aching with desire.

"Such a good boy," you murmured, your voice approving. You breathed in deeply, pressing your nose against the coarse trimmed hair at the base of his thick shaft, inhaling his scent and placing a chaste kiss there. Holding yourself there for a moment, before slowly pulling back.

Licking your lips, you dove back down, engulfing his hard length in the warm, wet cavern of my mouth. Your tongue swirled around his shaft, lapping at the sensitive skin as you took him deep. Each time you sank down, your tongue dragged over his heavy balls, massaging them gently as you worked his cock with your mouth.

Lucerys let out a strangled moan. "Oh fuck, oh god," he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows as you worked his aching cock with skilful ease. He could feel every flick and swirl of your tongue, every gentle massage of his cum-filled balls as you took him deeper and deeper.

Lucerys could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his groin, his balls drawing up as he neared his peak. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, not with the way you were worshipping his cock.

"Fuck, I'm gonna... I'm gonna come," he panted, his voice high and desperate. "Please, I need to come so badly. Can I... can I come in your mouth?" He looked down at you, his eyes hazy with lust and need. "I want to feel you swallow it, want to see you drink down every drop."

Gazing up at Lucerys with sultry, half-lidded eyes, you hummed your encouragement around his throbbing shaft, feeling it twitch against your tongue. Not needing words, you picked up the pace, bobbing your head faster as you worked him towards his release.

You wrapped your thumb and index finger snugly around the base of his thick cock, squeezing tightly. With each pump, you milked his heavy balls, coaxing out every last drop of his impending orgasm.

Lucerys's breath came in sharp, desperate pants as you worked him towards his release, your skilled mouth and hand driving him wild with lust. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" he cried out, his voice rising in pitch and volume with each bob of your head.

With a final, strangled moan, Lucerys came undone, his cock pulsing and jerking as he spilt his hot seed down your eager throat. "Oh god, yes! Swallow it, please swallow it all!" he begged, his hips jerking up to bury himself deep in your mouth as he rode out the intense waves of his climax.

Thick, creamy ropes of cum pumped out of his throbbing shaft, coating your tongue and the back of your throat. It was an overwhelming amount, and he could feel you struggling to swallow it all, your throat working as you gulped down every drop of his release.

You tried desperately to swallow every drop of Lucerys's hot, thick seed, but some of it spilt from the corners of your stretched lips, dribbling down his twitching shaft. You pulled off his softening cock with a lewd pop, your chest heaving as you gasped for air.

Licking your lips, you cleaned up the mess, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head to lap up every last bit of his release.

"Mmm, you taste so good," you purred, your voice slightly hoarse from the exertion. You placed a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of his cock, feeling it twitch weakly against your lips.

Lucerys collapsed back against the pillows, completely spent and sated. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin. He watched through hooded eyes as you licked and kissed his softening cock, cleaning up every drop of his release.

"Fuck...," he panted, his voice rough and low. "You're so pretty." He reached out, gently cupping your cheek and thumbing away a stray drop of his cum that had landed there.

You kissed and nipped your way up Lucerys's toned stomach, relishing the taste of his sweat-slicked skin. Reaching his neck, you pressed your soft lips against his racing pulse. A small smile played across your kiss-swollen lips as you gazed at him.

"Was that good?" you asked. You needed his praise and craved it like a drug. Seeing the blissed-out, slightly dazed expression on his handsome face.

Your fingers traced patterns on his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your touch. You snuggled closer, pressing your soft curves against his side as you waited for his response.

Lucerys gazed down at you with a look of pure adoration, his heart still racing in his chest. "That was... fuck, that was incredible," he breathed out, his voice filled with awe. "I've never... I mean, I've touched myself before, but that... you..."He seemed at a loss for words, unable to fully express the magnitude of the pleasure he had just experienced.

His hand tangled in your hair, gently stroking the silky strands as he tried to gather his thoughts. "I can't believe how amazing that felt," he murmured, his voice still rough from his intense orgasm. "I've never come so hard in my life. You're just..." He leaned in to capture your lips in a deep, sensual kiss, pouring his gratitude and desire into the intimate embrace.

You kissed him back softly, your lips curving into a satisfied smile against his. Your hand drifted from his heaving chest, your thumb gently caressing the sweat-slicked skin of his neck. You could feel his pulse slowly returning to a normal rhythm and see the blissed-out, slightly dazed expression on his handsome face.

Lucerys deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. He could feel himself growing hard again already, his cock stirring against your thigh as he pulled your naked body flush against his own.

"I need to be inside you," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight pussy wrapped around my cock." He rolled his hips, letting you feel how ready he was for you.

His other hand slid up your side, cupping the weight of your breast in his palm. He brushed his thumb over your nipple, feeling it stiffen under his touch. He leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Tell me you want it too," he breathed against your throat. "Tell me you need me."

You arched into Lucerys's touch, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he groped you. "Mhm," you gasped out, nodding eagerly. "I need you, Lucerys. Ever since you made love to me on that boat, I knew no other man could ever satisfy me. Please, I'm yours, all yours." You breathed your words into his neck, your heart racing with anticipation and desire.

Lucerys groaned at your breathless admission, feeling a surge of masculine pride and possessiveness. He liked the sound of that, liked knowing that he had ruined you for other men. He wanted to make good on that promise and try to show you just how thoroughly he could satisfy you.

"Fuck, I love hearing you say that," he growled, his voice deep and low with desire. He rolled you over, settling his hard body between your soft thighs. He could feel your wet heat against his aching shaft, and it made him throb with need.

."I feel the same way," he murmured, his voice thick with feeling. "I know I can never let you go, not now that I've had a taste of paradise in your arms."

He reached down, gripping your thighs and pushing them up and back towards your chest. The new position left you open and exposed to him, completely at his mercy. He took a moment to admire the view, his eyes roving hungrily over your glistening folds.

"Keep saying things like that," he commanded, his tip nudging your entrance teasingly. "Keep telling me how much you need me, how good I make you feel. I want to hear all of it as I fuck this tight little cunt."

You gazed up at Lucerys with hooded, desire-darkened eyes, your heart racing in your chest. "Please, Luke..." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I have longed for you. I've thought about your touch every single night, aching for you.."

Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, urging his mouth back to mine in a desperate, hungry kiss. Your knees were pressed against his elbows and against your chest. The new angle allowed you to feel every hard inch of him pressing urgently against your dripping core.

"I want you to take me all night long," you mumbled against his lips, your nails raking down his back.

Lucerys froze, his green eyes wide and unblinking as they locked onto yours. For a moment, he looked like he didn’t know how to breathe, his chest rising and falling unevenly as your confession settled over him.

“Say that again,” he whispered, his voice rough and shaky, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right the first time.

“I said,” you began, your voice soft but unwavering, “I want you to take me—all night long.”

His breath hitched, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he tried to steady himself. “Fuck, you can't just...” he muttered, his voice trembling. “Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

He kissed you with a hunger that bordered on frantic, his tongue delving deep into your mouth to claim you, to taste you.

He broke the kiss with a gasp, his chest heaving against yours. "I want to fuck you in every room of this house," he panted, his voice rough and low. "I want to bend you over the kitchen counter, lay you out on the dining room table, fuck you in the bath, on the balcony overlooking the sea..."

He rocked his hips slowly, his cock sliding through your slick folds, not yet pushing inside. "I want to please you," he murmured.

You felt the tip of his hard cock nudge against your dripping entrance, teasing you, making you ache for more. A soft moan escaped your lips as you arched into him, your heart racing in anticipation.

"We... fuck... we have all night," you sighed, voice breathy and low. You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his gorgeous face, his chest heaving with desire. "Please, I need you inside of me."

Lucerys groaned as he slowly pushed forward, the head of his cock parting your slick folds and sinking into your tight heat. He had to pause, his breath catching in his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he panted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He wanted to slam forward, to bury himself to the hilt in one hard thrust, but he forced himself to go slow, to savour every inch of your silken passage.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he slowly pushed forward, inch by delicious inch disappearing inside you. He could feel your body yielding to his, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick shaft.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Take my cock, let it fill you up." He rolled his hips, grinding against your clit as he bottomed out, his heavy balls nestling against your ass.

"Fuck!" You gasped, your back arching off the bed as you finally felt Lucerys's thick cock sink deep inside you, stretching you deliciously. "Thank you, thank you," you whimpered, your voice high and breathy, your mind hazing with pleasure at being so perfectly filled. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Mmm, needed you so bad," you sighed. "Please, don't stop."

Lucerys groaned as he felt your nails dig into his back, the slight pain only spurring him on. He began to move, withdrawing slowly until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before surging forward again, burying himself to the hilt in your tight, wet heat.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, setting a deep, sensual pace as he made love to you. Each thrust pushed him deeper, his cock kissing your cervix as he ground his hips against yours.

He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers.

"I'm going to fuck you all night long," he murmured against your lips. "Keep saying those pretty things, keep telling me how much you need my cock. I want to hear it, want to feel you come apart on my dick again and again."

He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, driving himself harder and faster into your welcoming body. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he made love to you with increasing fervour.

"Lucerys," you mewled breathlessly, the word escaping your lips in a needy whimper. You could feel every hard inch of him throbbing within your tight, dripping walls, and it made you ache for more.

But you wanted to ride him, to watch his face as you made him lose himself in pleasure. You placed your hands on his firm chest, giving him a gentle push. "Sit up," you breathed out, your voice low and sultry. "I want to ride you until you can’t take no more, want to watch your pretty face as I make you feel good."

Lucerys paused, his eyes widening at your words. He hesitated for a moment, desire and hesitation warring in his gaze. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "I don't know if I can hold back if you start riding me." He bit his lip, his hips twitching slightly as he fought the urge to start thrusting up into you.

Your heart raced as you rolled my hips sensually. "Ohh, fuck, I love riding you," you praised him mindlessly, your words tumbling out in a jumbled mess.

"Don't hold back," you purred, your eyes gleaming with wicked promise. "I want to feel you throbbing and twitching inside me as I ride you hard and fast. I want to make you forget everything but the feel of my pussy around your cock, wanna watch your face as you come inside of me."

He thrusts up to meet your downward movements, driving himself deeper and harder into your dripping core. The new angle allowed him to hit that special spot inside you with every thrust, and he could feel your body starting to tremble above him.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice low and rough with lust. "Ride my cock just like that. Fuck, you look so sexy above me, bouncing on my dick like you can't get enough." He reached up to cup your breasts, squeezing the soft mounds and thumbing your nipples as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Gripping his shoulders, you pushed his face into your heaving breasts. "Suck my tits," you purred, voice breathy. "Put that pretty mouth of yours to work." You arched your back, your wet pussy making an obscene noise with each bounce.

Lucerys obeyed quickly, humming around your nipple, his tongue swirling and sucking greedily at the sensitive bud. He could feel your wetness dripping down his shaft as you rode him harder and faster, your needy little whimpers and moans spurring him on.

"Fuck, your tits taste so good," he muttered, switching to the other breast to give it the same treatment. He could feel his orgasm building, your tight cunt squeezing him like a vice as you chased your own release.

"I'm getting close," he gasped, his hips starting to move erratically beneath you. "I don't know how much longer I can last."

You arched your back, pushing Lucerys's face deeper into your breasts as jolts of pleasure shot through you from his greedy sucking. You could feel your climax fast approaching, your inner walls starting to flutter around his throbbing shaft.

"I'm close too," you squealed, your eyes squeezing shut as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy. "Don't stop!" Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, holding him against your chest as you ground your hips down, taking him as deep as you could. You wanted to feel him explode inside you.

Lucerys gripped your hips tightly and held you up, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he thrust up into you with increasing urgency. "Fuck, I can't hold back any longer," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his impending orgasm. "I'm going to fill this tight little pussy up so good. You want that, don't you? You want to feel my hot cum shooting deep inside you?"

He could feel your walls starting to flutter around his shaft, and he knew you were just as close as he was. He leaned in to capture your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he pounded into you with wild abandon.

He gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he emptied himself inside you, his hot seed spurting deep into your waiting womb.

You threw your head back, a high, keening moan tearing from your throat as my orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your inner walls clamped down around Lucerys's pulsing cock, rippling and squeezing as you gushed all over his shaft, your juices splashing against his navel and dripping down his thighs. You were shaking uncontrollably above him, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy, feeling like you had been utterly possessed by the intensity of your climax.

The feeling of Lucerys taking control, gripping your waist and holding you in place as he emptied himself deep inside you, had sent you hurtling over the edge.

It was the most intensely pleasurable experience of your young life, and you knew you would be ruined for anyone else after this. No one could ever make you feel as good as Lucerys just had.

As you slowly came down from your high, you collapsed against his chest, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You breathed out, nuzzling into his neck. "I've never come so hard in my life."

Lucerys held you close, his arms wrapping around your trembling form as he felt your walls flutter and clench around his spent cock. He could feel your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his thighs.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his voice low and rough with sated desire. He brushed your hair back from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as he gazed down at you with a look of pure adoration. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you coming apart in my arms."

He rolled you over, settling you beneath him on the bed as he leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. He poured all of his feelings into it, trying to show you just how much this moment had meant to him.

"I meant what I said before," he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "You're mine now, all mine. I won't let anyone else touch you, not after I've had you. You belong to me. You belong with me."

"Mmm, you know I do. And I could never imagine letting another man touch me again..." you sighed. "Especially not after witnessing firsthand just how... protective you can be. I mean, what you did to Aegon back at the bar..." you giggled at the thought.

Your fingers played with the soft, damp curls at the nape of his neck as you leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. "It was pretty damn hot though, seeing you finally let go like that. I loved watching you lose control, seeing the real you shine through." You nuzzled into his jaw, breathing in his musky scent. "Don't hide that from me. I want to see that intensity, all the time. I'm not scared. I'm not leaving." You said as your tone turned more serious, cupping his jaw.

Lucerys's heart raced at your words, a surge of possessiveness and protectiveness rising up inside him. He knew he would do anything to keep you safe, to keep you by his side. He leaned into your touch, his cheek resting in the palm of your hand as he gazed down at you with a fierce intensity.

"I won't hide anything from you," he vowed, his voice low and serious. "I want you to see all of me, the good and the bad. I want you to know that I would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, to make you happy. You're not going anywhere, not if I have anything to say about it."

He leaned in for a passionate kiss. He wanted to brand you with his kiss, to mark you as his for all eternity.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark and intense as they bore into yours. "You're mine," he growled, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm yours, completely and utterly. We belong together, you and I. I know it, deep down in my bones."

You gazed up at Lucerys, a gentle expression on your face. "Even though you tried to push me away at first?" You whispered, your voice soft.

Lucerys's expression softened at the reminder, a flicker of guilt passing through his eyes. He sighed, his thumb brushing gently over your cheekbone. "Even then," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I was just... scared. Scared of how much I wanted you, of how easily you could ruin me if you were to leave. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were different, that you could make me feel things I had never felt before."

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours as he closed his eyes. "But I can't run from this anymore, can't deny how much I need you. You've gotten under my skin, into my blood, and I don't ever want to be without you again."

"Good," you whispered, your voice soft and breathy with feeling. "Cause I don't want to be without you either." You pulled him into another kiss, your fingers tangling in his soft hair as you pressed your lips against his in a loving caress.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you held each other, your bodies moulding together like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars <3

[abbysgolf-club]

STALKER

part 2

an abby anderson fic. wlw.

TW:: smut, mdni!!! softdom!abby, mentions of alcoholism, weight gain and reader is said to have longer hair. cunnilingus, fingering, aftercare!! use of pet names ie, sweetheart, sweet girl i literally dont think i could've made abby anymore gentle for y'all. (let me know if i've missed anything)

NO USE OF Y/N I PROMISE.

if you enjoy i'd highly appreciate likes comments and reblogs<33

READ PART 1 HERE::

It was her.

You recognised the large calloused hand as soon as it touched you. You knew it was Abby. You wriggled in her grasp; her free hand snaking around your waist to keep you in place.

"There's no point in trying to run, sweetheart. I don't want to hurt you. I just want to talk." Abby's voice spoke, a sound you hadn't heard in a good while. Her voice was smooth and calm, different from how you last heard her.

You muffled something into her hand before she finally took it away so you could speak, her hand still holding you on your waist. You let a breath out, unaware you were even holding one in.

"Why're you here? I specifically told you, stay the fuck away from me," You told her, your voice shaking slightly from the risen anxiety. Before she could respond you sighed, realising you were going to have to face her one day or another, might aswell be when she's broken into your apartment.

"Go sit on the couch, let me clean up this glass and then i'll come through.. and talk to you." You mumbled, waiting for her to let go.

"Whatever you say, sweet girl." Abby spoke breathily into your ear as she slowly removed her hands off your waist and backed up into the lounge.

Once she'd gone, you picked up the dustpan and brush and began scraping the broken glass on the floor into the dustpan, making sure there was no excess shards that could get stuck in your cats paws.

Once you cleaned up, you made your way over to the lounge. Seeing Abby sat on your couch with your cat, Garfield, on her lap made you remember the old times, when you two were still together. But you were done with that time of your life. You continued to tell yourself as you sat down next to her on the couch.

"Why'd you come back? You cheated on me, Abby." When you mentioned what happened that night, 4 months ago, Abby's face turned a pale pink colour in embarrassment for how she'd treated you. "You were manipulative, cruel, you treated me like i wasn't my own person; like you owned me." You spoke again, Abby looking at you with sorrow and guilt.

"Listen, baby.. that's what i came here to explain.. That's why i needed to find you." Abby answered, her eyes full of guilt and something else you couldn't quite lay your finger on.

You looked at her, waiting for her to begin explaining, not wanting to speak until she explained herself.

Abby sighed, leaning back on your couch, your cat still curled up in a ball on her lap as she stroked it carefully.

"That night.. is the biggest mistake i ever made. After you left, i changed. I realised i had to get better and recover. I've spent 3 months in therapy to get my drinking under control." She swallowed a thick lump in her throat before she continued to speak, "You, sweet girl, are the best thing that's ever come into my life. You are the kindest soul i've ever come across, like an angel placed on the planet for me to love and adore. All i'm asking for is one more chance. To prove i've changed. Please.." She looked at you, a look you'd never seen before. Vulnerability. She was genuinely upset. She really did love you, after all, would she have gone through therapy and found your exact location if she didn't care about you?

"Abby.. I.. I don't know what to say.." Your voice quiet, realisation hitting you that Abby did infact cherish you, she just wasn't in the best head space at that time.

"Then don't say anything, sweetheart." Abby spoke, pulling you into her lap, staring up at you sweetly. You'd gained a little bit of weight since your last encounter with Abby, but, of course that was no problem. You didn't even know if she noticed.

Abby's hands trailed along your hips to your waist and back again, before she pulled you into a loving kiss. It took you a second to realise what was happening until you melted under her touch, kissing her back softly.

"Abby.." you muttered, pulling back from the kiss, staring into her big blue-green orbs. Just as you were about to continue speaking, Abby held a finger up to your lips.

"Shh, I told you not to say anything baby, let me make it up to you for everything." With that said, she lifted you off her lap, laying you down on the couch onto your back.

"May I?" She asked, motioning to the button on your black denim shorts. You nodded reluctantly, nervous she'd judge you for your body image.

Abby smiled, unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them to your ankles, discarding them on the floor beside you.

She smiled at the slight pudge on your stomach, kissing gently at your stretch marks and down your thighs, removing your underwear as she did so. Abby's soft and sweet actions gave you butterflies; you felt a small pool between your legs.

"So wet for me already, baby?" Abby murmured, positioning her head inbetween your legs, looking up at you for permission.

"You can.. but be gentle.. please.." You asked softly, Abby smiled before looking down at the beautiful sight in front of her eyes.

Before you knew it, Abby's tongue slowly licked up between your folds, focusing on your clit. A soft gasp left your lips, causing Abby to grin as she continued slowly lapping your clit like she was starved; savouring your taste.

Your hand tangled into her neatly braided hair, you swore she never took it down and she woke up with it perfect everyday.

"Abby.." You moaned, breathlessly, Abby hummed against you, speeding her tongue up slightly, twirling it around your clit in small deliberate circles.

Abby reached her hand up, still eating you out as she slowly pushed her middle and ring finger inside you. Curling them inside to hit your spot; causing your head to fall back and moans escape your mouth.

Your grip tightened as she sped up, still keeping every movement gentle. Her free hand stroking your thigh lovingly.

Not long later, you felt your climax building up in your lower stomach, clenching your walls around Abby's fingers. Abby grinned as you clenched around her, "Cum for me, sweet girl." She said, lifting her head up to looked at your flustered, fucked-out face.

Her words sent you over the edge, coaxing her fingers and her face in your juices, Abby slurping them up like there was no tomorrow, helping you ride out your high.

Abby pulled her fingers out of you, giving one last lick to your clit; wiping her hand on her trousers and the corners of her mouth on her t-shirt.

"Let's get you cleaned up, baby. You look so pretty." She spoke, sitting up from between your legs, pulling you to sit up aswell. She grabbed the hair bobble off your wrist, tying your hair up into a small ponytail.

She then proceeded to pick you up off the couch, asking you for directions to your bathroom so you could go to the toilet.

Once she got you there, she waited outside for you to finish and then picked you up again bridal style and carried you to your bedroom, laying you down in your bed.

"Do you want anything sweetheart? Food? Water?" Abby asked you, smiling down at you in your bed.

"Water please.." You murmured, sleepily. Abby have you a peck on the forehead before travelling back downstairs to grab you a glass of cold water with ice and a straw.

"Here you go, we can't have you getting dehydrated." She smiled, walking over to you and handing you the water, before searching through your closet for some pyjamas. She found a black pair of fully pyjama pants bought them to you, helping you put them on.

Once you were dressed; Abby climbed into your bed next to you, allowing you to put your water down on your bedside table before spooning you, peppering your neck and upper back with kisses.

"Goodnight, sweet girl. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

And that was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep. Back in her arms, where you longed to be.

[novaursa]

A Lion's Folly (duty)

- Summary: A story where a lion falls for the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Jaime Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: the price

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @butterflygxril @lordofthunderthr @mrsnms @itisjustwhatitis

Jaime approached Cersei’s chambers. His steps were slow, deliberate, each one a reminder of the conversation he’d been avoiding for days. Confronting his father about leaving the Kingsguard and marrying you had been difficult, but this… this was something else entirely.

He reached her door, the ornate lion carving glaring back at him like a silent judge. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open without knocking.

Cersei was standing by the window, her hair catching the last rays of the sun as it spilled into the room. She turned at the sound of the door, her face immediately hardening when she saw him.

"Jaime," she said, her voice low and cold. "You dare to come here?"

Before he could respond, she crossed the room in three quick strides and slapped him hard across the face. The loud crack echoed in the stillness, but Jaime didn’t flinch. He stood there, his cheek stinging, as she glared up at him with eyes blazing.

"You promised me," she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "You swore you’d always stay by my side. That nothing would come between us. And now? Now you throw it all away—for her?"

Jaime’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, letting her words wash over him.

"For a Stark," she spat, the word dripping with venom. "For that girl you barely know, with her pretty face and her noble airs. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you’ve changed since Winterfell. Even then, you were weak for her."

"It’s not like that," Jaime said finally, his voice calm but strained. "This isn’t about her—"

"Don’t lie to me!" Cersei shouted, cutting him off. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her chest heaving as she struggled to contain her rage. "You think I don’t know you? You think I can’t see what’s happening? You’ve convinced yourself that there’s some… bond between you. That she’s different. Better. That you can save her, and somehow, that will make you whole again."

Jaime looked away, his lips pressing into a thin line. Cersei’s words were cruel, but they struck dangerously close to the truth.

"You’re pathetic," she continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think this will make Father proud? That throwing away everything we’ve built—everything we are—for her will somehow redeem you? You’re fooling yourself, Jaime."

"It’s not about redemption," Jaime said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. He turned to face her fully, his gaze meeting hers. "It’s about doing what’s right."

Cersei let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Right? You? Since when do you care about what’s right? You killed the king you swore to protect. You pushed a child out of a window to protect us. Don’t pretend you’re some noble hero now, Jaime. It doesn’t suit you."

"I’m not pretending," Jaime said firmly. "I’m trying to be better. And maybe it’s too late for that, but I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep living for you."

The silence that followed was deafening. For the first time, Cersei seemed genuinely stunned. Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the anger gave way to something else—hurt, perhaps, or disbelief.

"You don’t mean that," she said softly, her voice trembling. "You can’t mean that."

Jaime exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his words had drained him. "I do," he said quietly. "Cersei… we’ve been lying to ourselves for years. This—us—it’s not what it used to be. And maybe it never was."

Her expression hardened again, her eyes narrowing as tears glistened unshed. "So, this is it?" she asked bitterly. "You’re walking away? For her?"

"This isn’t about her," Jaime said, though he wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. "This is about me. About what I want. And what I want… isn’t this."

Cersei stared at him for a long moment, her face a mask of fury and heartbreak. Then she turned away, her voice low and venomous. "Get out."

Jaime hesitated, his good hand clenching at his side. He had loved her once—had lived for her. But now, standing here, he realized that love had become something twisted, something that no longer felt like love at all.

Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

As he walked back through the dim corridors of the Red Keep, Jaime felt an unexpected sense of liberation. The weight that had hung over him for so long, the chains that had bound him to Cersei, seemed to loosen with every step. It wasn’t a clean break—nothing ever was—but it was a start.

Jaime Lannister felt like he was finally free.

The training yard in the Red Keep was quiet in the early morning, the sun still low in the sky. The usual bustle of squires and guards was absent, leaving the space empty save for Jaime and Bronn. The loud clang of steel against steel echoed across the yard, followed by the grunts of effort and muttered curses.

“Keep your wrist steady,” Bronn said, stepping back to observe Jaime’s stance. He twirled his own blade lazily, the smirk on his face widening as Jaime adjusted his grip on the practice sword.

“I am keeping it steady,” Jaime snapped, his tone sharper than his strikes.

“Doesn’t look like it from here,” Bronn replied, dodging Jaime’s next swing with infuriating ease. “You’re too stiff. Relax a bit, will you? Or do you want me to carve you up like one of those roasted pigs in the kitchens?”

Jaime huffed, his left arm trembling slightly from the strain of holding the sword. Every move felt wrong—awkward and unbalanced, as if his body had yet to accept that this was his only option now.

Bronn stepped closer, rapping Jaime’s blade with his own. “Again,” he ordered. “And this time, don’t hold the damn thing like it’s about to bite you.”

Jaime adjusted his grip, narrowing his eyes as he swung again. Bronn blocked effortlessly, his smirk never faltering.

“You’re improving,” Bronn said casually, sidestepping another strike. “Still terrible, but less terrible than last time.”

“Glad to know I’m meeting your high standards,” Jaime muttered, his tone dry.

Bronn grinned, lowering his blade momentarily. “So, word around the Keep is you’re leaving the Kingsguard. Trading white cloak for lordly robes, huh?”

Jaime stiffened, lowering his sword. “Let me guess—Tyrion told you.”

“He might’ve mentioned it,” Bronn admitted, his grin widening. “Said something about you giving up the sword for a girl. Didn’t think you were the type, Kingslayer.”

Jaime glared at him, raising his sword again. “Tyrion talks too much.”

“Maybe,” Bronn said with a shrug. “But he’s not wrong, is he? Leaving all that glory behind for… what, exactly? A pretty face?”

Jaime lunged, his swing harder this time, though Bronn blocked it easily.

“It’s not about that,” Jaime snapped, his irritation bleeding into his movements.

“No?” Bronn asked, dodging another strike. “So, it’s not about the Stark girl? Not about making sure she doesn’t end up flayed alive by Bolton? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Jaime gritted his teeth, his swings growing more forceful. Bronn danced around him, letting the blows glance off his blade with practiced ease.

“Careful now,” Bronn said with a chuckle. “You’ll wear yourself out before you’ve even started. And I’d hate to see you keel over before you’ve convinced her to stop hating your guts.”

Jaime froze for a split second, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “She doesn’t hate me,” he said, though the uncertainty in his voice betrayed him.

“Doesn’t she?” Bronn countered, stepping closer. “From what I hear, she’s not exactly thrilled about this whole arrangement. Can’t blame her, really. A Stark marrying a Lannister? That’s the kind of thing that makes bards weep.”

Jaime swung again, the force behind his strike making Bronn take a step back.

“And how’s Cersei taking it?” Bronn asked, his tone deliberately casual. “Bet she didn’t like hearing you’re shacking up with someone else. Especially not a Stark.”

Jaime’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. He feinted left before swinging right, his strike glancing off Bronn’s blade.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Bronn asked, grinning. “Let me guess—she slapped you, screamed a bit, told you you’d regret it. Am I close?”

Jaime lowered his sword slightly, his chest heaving from the effort. “Cersei’s reaction doesn’t matter,” he said curtly.

Bronn tilted his head, his grin fading slightly as he studied Jaime. “Doesn’t it? Funny, I’d have thought you’d care more about her opinion.”

Jaime’s silence spoke volumes, and Bronn’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Ah,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “It’s not Cersei you’re worried about, is it? You’re more concerned about what Y/N thinks.”

Jaime didn’t respond, his gaze hardening as he raised his sword again.

“Careful, Jaime,” Bronn said, his voice lower now, almost serious. “You keep thinking about her like that, and you’ll end up doing something stupid. Like falling in love.”

Jaime lunged again, but this time, Bronn disarmed him with a swift twist of his wrist. Jaime’s practice sword clattered to the ground, and Bronn stepped back, grinning.

“Not bad,” Bronn said, nodding approvingly. “Still need work, though. Lots of work.”

Jaime glared at him, retrieving his sword. “We’re done for today.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Bronn said with a mock bow, his grin never fading.

Jaime turned and walked away, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and confusion. Bronn’s words lingered in his mind, poking at something he wasn’t ready to confront.

But as much as he tried to push it aside, the truth was undeniable: you had taken up residence in his thoughts, and there was no escaping it.

The solar was warm, the golden light of the afternoon spilling through the tall windows, glinting off the polished wood and gilded ornaments that adorned Tywin Lannister’s private chambers. Jaime sat in a high-backed chair near his father’s desk, his gaze fixed on the servant kneeling before him, carefully securing the golden prosthetic Tywin had commissioned to replace his hand.

The weight of the metal was heavier than Jaime had expected, its surface smooth and cold against the sensitive skin of his stump. The fingers were articulated, though they served no practical purpose. It was a symbol, more than anything else—a statement of wealth and power, a reminder to anyone who saw it that Jaime Lannister, even diminished, was still a lion.

Tywin sat across from him, his pale green eyes watching the process with an air of detached satisfaction. He looked every inch the lord of Casterly Rock, his posture straight, his hands folded neatly on the desk in front of him.

“It suits you,” Tywin said finally, breaking the silence.

Jaime glanced down at the golden hand, flexing the wrist experimentally. “It’s flashy,” he remarked, his tone dry. “Almost garish. I suppose that’s the point.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change. “It’s a reminder of who you are. A Lannister. Even in loss, you project strength.”

Jaime let out a faint scoff, though he didn’t argue. The servants stepped back, bowing as they left the room, leaving father and son alone.

“You’ve adjusted well,” Tywin said, his tone even but firm. “That’s good. There’s much to be done.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “I assume this is the part where you outline my duties as the prodigal heir?”

Tywin ignored the sarcasm, reaching for a stack of documents on the desk. “Your position will require careful management. I expect you to oversee the transition of power at Casterly Rock. Your presence there will reinforce our authority, particularly with the unrest in the Westerlands.”

Jaime nodded slowly, though his gaze remained distant. The idea of returning to Casterly Rock, to the place he had left behind so long ago, felt strange. Foreign.

“And,” Tywin continued, “there’s the matter of the upcoming wedding.”

“Joffrey’s and Margaery’s,” Jaime said, his tone growing sharper. “Yes, I’m well aware.”

Tywin’s gaze didn’t waver. “After the wedding, there will be another announcement.”

Jaime stiffened, his jaw tightening. “The betrothal.”

“Yes,” Tywin said, his tone calm but final. “Yours and Y/N Stark’s. The timing is ideal. With all the noble houses gathered for the king’s wedding, the news of your union will send a clear message: the North may be fractured, but it is still under Lannister control.”

Jaime exhaled slowly, his golden hand resting heavily in his lap. “And what does Y/N think of this grand anoucment?”

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Her opinion, while noted, is irrelevant. She is a Stark. Her value lies in her name, her bloodline. She will understand her role in time.”

Jaime clenched his teeth, his gaze darkening. “She’s not a pawn, Father.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, his voice hardening. “She is whatever I need her to be. You may have developed a misguided sense of sentimentality, but I do not share your weakness. This union is about strategy, not affection.”

The words stung more than Jaime cared to admit, but he forced himself to remain calm. “And what exactly do you intend to say to her?”

Tywin leaned back in his chair, his gaze cold and calculating. “I will speak with her personally. She needs to understand the importance of this alliance, the role she is to play. I expect you to keep your emotions in check, Jaime. This is not a negotiation.”

Jaime’s hand tightened into a fist, his golden prosthetic gleaming in the sunlight. “She’s not going to agree easily,” he said quietly.

“She doesn’t have to,” Tywin replied, his tone final.

The room fell into silence, the weight of Tywin’s words settling heavily between them. Jaime’s thoughts churned, a mixture of frustration, guilt, and an unwelcome sense of helplessness.

Finally, Tywin stood, his movements precise as he gathered the documents on his desk. “The wedding is in three days,” he said. “You will attend, you will conduct yourself with dignity, and you will ensure that this house remains united.”

Jaime nodded stiffly, rising from his chair. “Anything else, Father?”

Tywin’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he spoke. “Yes. Remember who you are, Jaime. And what you represent.”

Jaime turned and left the room, the golden hand heavy at his side. As he walked down the corridor, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He had always thought he understood his father—his cold pragmatism, his relentless pursuit of power. But now, standing on the precipice of a life he chose to save you, Jaime couldn’t help but wonder if there was still a way to claim something for himself.

And if there wasn’t, he wondered if he could live with the man he was becoming.

You sat by the window, arms crossed, staring out at the distant horizon. The door creaked open behind you, and you turned sharply, your features hardening when you saw who had entered.

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, strode into the room with the air of a man who owned everything he set his eyes upon. His lion brooch gleamed against his crimson doublet, and his gaze, as sharp and cold as ever, settled on you.

"You seem comfortable," Tywin said, his tone devoid of warmth as he gestured to the sparse chamber. "I trust your accommodations are adequate."

You stood, your expression icy. "They’re a cell, no matter how you dress it up. But I doubt you came here to discuss my comfort."

Tywin inclined his head slightly, acknowledging your sharpness without reacting to it. "Indeed, I did not. I came to speak to you about the future."

You crossed your arms, refusing to be intimidated. "Jaime already informed me of your so-called plans for my future. My answer hasn’t changed. I’d rather die than marry him."

Tywin didn’t flinch, his face as impassive as stone. He stepped closer, clasping his hands behind his back. "You may find that choice taken out of your hands, Lady Stark. This union is not about your personal desires. It is about strategy, stability, and the survival of your family’s name."

"My family’s name?" you scoffed, anger flaring in your voice. "You destroyed my family! You orchestrated the death of my father, you allowed the Boltons to betray my brother, and now you dare to speak of my family’s survival?"

Tywin’s gaze didn’t waver, his voice calm and measured. "The war destroyed your family, not I. I merely ensured that House Lannister would emerge stronger from the ashes. And now, I am offering you a chance to secure what remains of your legacy."

"My legacy doesn’t need securing by you," you snapped. "And certainly not through marriage to Jaime Lannister. He may have convinced himself he’s doing this to protect me, but I see the truth. This is about your power, your games. I won’t be your tool."

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression growing colder. "You misunderstand, my lady. This is not a negotiation. Your marriage to Jaime is a necessity, and it will happen. Your consent, while preferable, is not required."

You clenched your fists, your chest heaving with frustration. "You’re no better than Bolton," you said, your voice trembling with anger. "You speak of honor and stability, but all you care about is control. You think you can break me the way you’ve broken others, but you won’t."

Tywin stepped closer, his towering presence filling the room. "This is not about breaking you, Lady Stark. It is about ensuring your survival. You may not see it now, but this marriage is the best option for you. For your sister. For whatever remnants of your house remain."

"I don’t want your protection," you spat.

"That much is clear," Tywin said evenly. "But your wants are irrelevant. You are a Stark of Winterfell, and your name carries weight—weight that must be used wisely. Refusing this union would be foolish. And I do not tolerate foolishness."

You turned away, your shoulders trembling as you fought to keep your composure. The room felt suffocating, the walls pressing in as Tywin’s words loomed over you like a shadow.

"I won’t forgive this," you said finally, your voice low but firm. "Not you. Not Jaime. Not any of you."

Tywin inclined his head slightly, as if acknowledging a fact that held no consequence to him. "Forgiveness is not required," he said. "Only compliance."

The room fell into a heavy silence as his words lingered in the air. Tywin stepped back toward the door, pausing briefly before he left.

"You have three days to prepare yourself," he said. "After the king’s wedding, your betrothal will be announced. I suggest you consider your position carefully. Good day, Lady Stark."

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving you alone in the quiet, your chest burning with a mixture of fury and helplessness.

Three days.

You stared at the window again, the world beyond seeming farther away than ever. But despite the storm raging inside you, one thought burned brighter than the rest.

You would find a way out of this. No matter the cost.

The midday sun poured through the windows of your chambers the next day. You sat by the window, staring out at the distant horizon, your thoughts a swirling storm of anger and despair. The faint sound of footsteps approached, and you stiffened as the door creaked open behind you.

Turning your head slightly, you weren’t surprised to see Jaime standing there, his golden hand catching the sunlight and gleaming like a trophy. He leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.

“Lady Stark,” he greeted, his tone light but cautious. “I come bearing news.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” you said flatly, turning your gaze back to the window.

Jaime stepped further into the room, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. “It seems my father has granted you some leniency. You’re allowed to leave your chambers.”

You looked at him sharply, suspicion flickering in your eyes. “Under what conditions?”

Jaime smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “An escort, of course. You didn’t think Tywin would simply let you wander the Red Keep freely, did you?”

“I suppose I didn’t,” you replied, your voice tight. “And I assume you’ve graciously volunteered to be my shadow.”

“Graciously, no,” Jaime admitted. “But I thought you might appreciate some fresh air. The gardens are quiet this time of day, and we could... talk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your suspicion deepening. “Talk? About what, exactly? My upcoming forced marriage? Or perhaps you’d like to reminisce about Winterfell and the time you pushed my brother from a tower?”

Jaime flinched slightly, the smirk falling from his face. “I deserve that,” he said quietly. “But I thought you might prefer to have this conversation somewhere other than here. Unless, of course, you’d rather stay cooped up in this charming little cell.”

You glared at him, the temptation to refuse clear in your expression. But the thought of stepping outside, even briefly, was too enticing to ignore. With a sharp exhale, you stood, brushing past him without a word.

Jaime followed you into the corridor, his steps measured and deliberate. The silence stretched between you as you walked, the distant hum of activity in the Red Keep filling the void. Finally, Jaime broke the silence.

“You’ve been here for days,” he said, his tone softer now. “I thought you’d want the chance to breathe.”

You shot him a sidelong glance, your lips pressing into a thin line. “And I’m sure your father approved of this... gesture.”

“Not exactly,” Jaime admitted, his smirk returning faintly. “But he didn’t object, which is as close to approval as Tywin Lannister gets.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed ahead as you descended a flight of stairs. Jaime studied you from the corner of his eye, noting the tension in your posture, the way your hands clenched at your sides. He wanted to say something, to ease the burden he could see weighing on you, but every word he thought of felt inadequate.

As you neared the doors leading to the gardens, Jaime hesitated briefly before speaking again. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard.

You stopped, turning to face him, your expression guarded. “What?”

Jaime met your gaze, his own softened by something you couldn’t quite place. “I know you don’t trust me,” he said, his tone steady. “And I don’t blame you. But for what it’s worth, I meant what I said. I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

Your eyes narrowed, your voice sharp. “Protect me? From what? From your family? From the man you’re forcing me to marry? Oh, wait, that’s you.”

Jaime winced, the barb hitting its mark. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But... I’m trying, Y/N. For whatever that’s worth.”

You stared at him for a moment, searching his face for any sign of deception. But all you saw was a man weighed down by guilt and something that almost resembled regret.

Without a word, you turned and continued walking, leaving Jaime to follow in silence.

The gardens were a riot of color, their vibrant blooms softened by the afternoon light. The air was thick with the scent of roses, lavender, and freshly turned earth. You walked a few paces ahead of Jaime, your shoulders stiff and your hands clenched tightly at your sides. The gravel path crunched underfoot, and the faint chirping of birds filled the silence between you.

Jaime, keeping pace just behind you, broke the quiet. “It’s strange,” he said, his voice softer than you were used to.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your expression guarded. “What’s strange?”

He gestured vaguely to the gardens around him. “Walking through here without a duty hanging over my head. No orders to follow, no kings to protect.” He paused, flexing his golden hand absently. “I can’t remember the last time I walked through these gardens simply… to walk.”

You raised an eyebrow, your tone sharp. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you, Jaime? That your life as a Kingslayer and Lannister golden boy hasn’t been a constant stroll through roses?”

Jaime stopped, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t expect your sympathy. I just… thought I’d share.”

Your eyes narrowed, but you turned back to the path, continuing onward. “Well, don’t,” you said curtly.

Jaime followed, the faintest chuckle escaping him. “You have a sharp tongue, Y/N. I think it might be sharper than your brother’s sword.”

“That sharpness has served me well,” you replied coolly. “Especially when dealing with Lannisters.”

The hostility between you eased slightly as you walked further, the path winding through rose-laden trellises and carefully pruned hedges. But the moment was short-lived. As you turned a corner, your gaze landed on a small group gathered around a table beneath a shaded pavilion.

At the center of the group was Lady Olenna Tyrell, her distinctive headdress unmistakable, flanked by Margaery and Sansa. Servants flitted around them, pouring wine and arranging plates of fruit and sweets. Several of Margaery’s ladies-in-waiting sat nearby, chatting and laughing softly.

It was Sansa who saw you first. Her face lit up, her blue eyes wide with surprise and joy. She pushed her chair back abruptly, nearly knocking over a goblet in her haste. “Y/N!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying across the garden.

Lady Olenna’s keen eyes flicked toward you, her lips curling into a faintly amused smile. “Well, well,” she said, her voice dry but not unkind. “It seems we have unexpected visitors. Come closer, dear, and bring Ser Jaime with you. Don’t linger in the shadows like conspirators.”

You hesitated, glancing at Jaime, who looked equally uncertain. He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, it seems we’ve been summoned,” he said lightly.

You sighed, bracing yourself as you stepped forward. Jaime followed close behind.

As you approached, Sansa moved toward you, her hands reaching out to clasp yours. “Y/N,” she said again, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t know you were allowed out of your chambers.”

“Only under escort,” you replied, your tone clipped as you glanced at Jaime.

Lady Olenna watched the exchange with obvious interest, her shrewd gaze flicking between you and Jaime. “Quite the escort,” she remarked, her tone laced with dry amusement. “Ser Jaime, it’s rare to see you outside the Red Keep without your sister at your side.”

Jaime inclined his head slightly, his smirk faint. “A pleasure to see you as always, Lady Olenna.”

“Is it?” Olenna replied, her tone cutting but not cruel. “I suppose even Lannisters can appreciate good company now and then.” She turned her gaze back to you, her expression softening slightly. “And you, my dear. You look well for someone who’s been hidden away like a prized relic. Sit. Both of you.”

You hesitated, but Sansa’s pleading expression was enough to sway you. Reluctantly, you took a seat beside her, Jaime settling into a chair opposite you.

Margaery offered you a warm smile, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “It’s wonderful to see you, Y/N,” she said graciously. “Sansa has spoken of you often.”

You returned her smile with a faint nod, though your focus remained on Sansa. “Are you well?” you asked her quietly.

Sansa nodded, her voice soft. “I am, for now.”

Jaime remained quiet, his gaze flicking between you and the Tyrells as the conversation continued. Despite the tension that lingered in the air, he found himself strangely at ease.

The servants poured more wine into the goblets on the table as you settled into your seat, the scent of fresh roses mingling with the sweetness of ripe fruit arranged artfully on silver platters. Lady Olenna studied you and Jaime, her lips quirking in faint amusement as Margaery leaned in to speak with you and Sansa.

“You’re fortunate to be out of those dreary chambers, Y/N,” Margaery said warmly, her hands folded gracefully in her lap. “The Red Keep can feel so suffocating, don’t you think?”

You nodded slightly, your tone clipped. “More like a gilded cage. I wouldn’t call it fortunate.”

Margaery’s smile faltered slightly, but Lady Olenna’s laugh cut through the air. “Spoken like a true Stark,” she said. “Blunt as a hammer and just as subtle.”

Jaime smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair. “She’s certainly mastered the art of subtlety. Why use a knife when a sledgehammer will do?”

You shot him a glare, your fingers curling around the stem of your goblet. “And why speak at all when silence is an option, Ser Jaime?”

Lady Olenna chuckled, her gaze darting between the two of you. “Oh, this is delightful. I can see why you’re escorting her, Jaime. It’s not every day you find someone who can keep up with your wit.”

Jaime tilted his head, his golden hand resting lightly on the table. “I’d say it’s more a matter of survival than wit. She’s had plenty of practice hating Lannisters.”

“And for good reason,” you snapped. “It seems you lot make it your life’s work to ruin everything you touch.”

Jaime’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, his gaze softened. “Not everything,” he said quietly.

Lady Olenna raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the exchange. “I must say, the two of you make quite the spectacle. It’s been some time since I’ve seen a proper sparring match outside a tournament.”

Margaery glanced at her grandmother, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps we should give them swords, Grandmother. It might make things more interesting.”

Jaime chuckled lightly, his eyes flicking to Margaery. “That wouldn’t be fair to Y/N. I’d hate to embarrass her.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the bait. “Embarrass me? I’ve seen your swordsmanship, Ser Jaime. Perhaps you should focus on keeping that golden hand attached before you worry about embarrassing anyone else.”

Sansa stifled a giggle beside you, her expression brightening at the familiar bickering. “You haven’t changed at all, Y/N,” she said softly, a touch of relief in her voice.

Jaime’s smirk returned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “And here I thought we were making progress.”

“Progress?” you scoffed, setting your goblet down with a clink. “You mistake tolerance for progress. The only reason I’m sitting here is because your father hasn’t given me much choice.”

Lady Olenna leaned forward slightly, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. “Ah, Tywin. Always so practical. But tell me, Y/N, how do you find his golden son? Has he been insufferable as ever?”

You met Olenna’s gaze with a faint smile, your tone dry. “If anything, he’s more insufferable now. The golden hand’s only made his ego worse.”

Jaime placed his hand over his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, my lady. And here I thought we were bonding.”

“Bonding?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you call this?”

Lady Olenna chuckled, her laughter cutting through the tension like a knife. “Oh, I do enjoy you, Y/N. You’re exactly the sort of entertainment this dull court needs. If only we could bottle your wit and sell it to the Tyrells.”

Margaery smiled, though her gaze lingered on Jaime for a moment. “And you, Ser Jaime? How do you find Lady Stark? She seems to have quite the talent for keeping you on your toes.”

Jaime hesitated, his smirk softening as his gaze flicked toward you. “She’s… spirited,” he said finally. “A rare trait in the Red Keep.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure whether to take the comment as a compliment or an insult. Before you could respond, Lady Olenna clapped her hands together, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Well, I must say, this has been thoroughly entertaining,” she said. “But don’t let us keep you from your walk, Jaime. Do try to keep her out of trouble, won’t you?”

Jaime rose from his chair, offering a faint bow. “I’ll do my best, Lady Olenna. Though I make no promises.”

As you stood to follow him, Sansa reached out to squeeze your hand, her eyes shining with unspoken gratitude. You offered her a faint smile before turning to leave, Jaime falling into step beside you as you exited the pavilion.

The faint sound of Olenna’s laughter followed you down the path, her sharp wit lingering in the air like a pleasant sting. For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth, even if it was fleeting.

Jaime walked in silence beside you, his smirk faint but genuine. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but feel that something between you had shifted, though you couldn’t quite name what it was.

[staylovesmiley]

Youtiful: Another Collision Story~ Chapter 4

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Stray Kids x afab!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; It’s been a wonderful tour so far, spending time visiting different countries with the loves of your life. But will a sudden change ruin everything? A continuation to Collision

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; implied afab reader (only they/them pronouns used for reader), angst, some sexual themes at points, fluff, this is still mainly a slice of life story though there will be some drama in this sequel, unplanned pregnancy, more tags to come most likely as the story progresses

In the coming weeks so many things were changing and you weren’t sure you could keep up.

The first trimester was quickly coming to an end and so was your bouts of morning sickness which you were happy for. The way your boyfriends behaved around you was changing as well, constantly checking up on you and making sure you were feeling alright and eating well. They also never passed up an opportunity to lean down and place a kiss to your slowly growing belly while you were laying down or wrapping their arms around you from behind to rest their hands over the barely there bump.

It was nice, seeing this side of them. It wasn’t that they were not loving to you before, always having been ones to shower you in affection but this was different and it melted your heart every time you’d lean against one of them as they placed gentle kisses to your cheek and neck while their hands caressed the place where your baby was growing inside you.

One thing you were a little upset by that they had insisted on the second you got back from the hospital was that they didn’t want you leaving the hotel…which meant not joining them at their shows every week. You were currently sat on the bed in Chan’s hotel room, almost in your thirteenth week of pregnancy. You were dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and one of your oldest boyfriend’s tshirts as you ran your left hand over your small bump absentmindedly while your right hand held your phone scrolling through social media as you caught up on stay’s videos from the concerts you had missed.

At first you were all smiles, watching your boys do what they love in the only capacity you could at that time until you started to read the comments, a frown finding your face as they kept coming. The hate. You had heard the rumors that had been started by your supposed abrupt absence on the tour but Minho had been quick to take your phone and turn off your comments as well as the ability for outsiders to send you direct messages. After Felix had seen the first few waves of rumors and vile messages being sent your way they were quick to act to make sure you wouldn’t have to see them yourself but there was nothing they could do about others posts.

They were saying how happy Felix looked on stage, how he must have gotten over you quickly. You felt tears well in your eyes at some of the nastier comments, wiping them away furiously before shutting your phone and deciding to search the television for something to watch instead. You hated it, somewhat, not being open about your relationship with any of the boys to their fans.

At this point their families all knew of you, and were surprisingly accepting of your relationship and the little addition you were carrying inside of you. Jeongin’s parents especially were over the moon and had already expressed their plans to spoil the new baby once it arrived. It gave you some peace but in the end you knew how important stay were to your boyfriends and you didn’t want to be the cause for any chaos amongst their fans.

As soon as you heard the door click open you jumped slightly, as if you had been caught even though you had long abandoned scrolling through the sea of hate and rumors about you and your beloved sunshine, eyes fixed on where the movie Cars played on the screen. “Hey baby, how are you feeling?” Chan’s voice called out softly, the sound of shoes being slipped off echoing in the background before soft foot steps sounded heading in your direction. His head peaked around the corner of the doorway and a wide dimpled grin broke out on his face upon seeing you all snuggled up in bed in his shirt like he had left you earlier in the day. “Hi Channie~” you spoke up, reaching for him causing the older to chuckle and take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Can’t cuddle now, baby I’m all sweaty-“ he motioned towards his body still soaked from where the others had no doubt had another water fight during their encore stage. “I can see- and smell that..shower first?” Chan smirked, reaching over to take your hand into his. “Will you join me?” You blushed, looking down at your lap as you contemplated the offer.

After learning of your condition your lovers had been hesitant to initiate anything intimate with you, the scare from weeks ago still plaguing their minds even though the doctors had said sexual activity up until the due date was perfectly safe. These days you seemed to have so much energy, and normally you would have jumped at the opportunity but your mind was still clouded with the comments you had read so you declined, giving him a peck to his cheek. “Not tonight, babe. Sorry? But hurry back so we can order food and you can tell me all about the show tonight.” You assured him, a warm smile cast his way though he could tell something is wrong. Not wanting to push it just yet, Chan rose from the spot beside you and made his way towards the bathroom after giving your forehead and soft kiss. “Okay darling, think about what you want to eat while I wash up yeah?” You nodded, going to grab your phone before he tsked at you and replaced it with his own. You should know better than to think he would let you pay while he was around.

Things went by the same as they had been for another few weeks, and before you knew it you were back in Felix’s room…back where it all began as the last time you were staying with your sunshine you had found out you were pregnant and it started you on this wild journey with the loves of your lives. Setting that into perspective it made it feel even more that things had changed as you sat on the couch curled into Felix’s side while he played games on the console he had hooked up to the tv in the tiny living room area of the hotel suite. “Felix…can I- could I talk to you about something?”

He had never paused a game so fast in his life, immediately setting the controller down before turning to give you his full attention. “What is it, Starlight? You feeling okay? Is it the baby?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his attentiveness, leaning in to peck his lips. “The baby is fine, probably sleeping since they haven’t been very active tonight.” Felix smiled softly, hand coming to rest on your bump despite your words. It had been when you were staying in Seungmin’s room the week before that you felt the first movement, the singer having broken out in sobs when you brought his hand to feel your bump and ever since the boys tried any moment they could to feel the little life showing themself inside you. “Then what about you, baby?” He hummed, picking up right away that you hadn’t confirmed that you as well were okay. “Well…I may have accidentally seen what stay have been saying about us online the other night..”

His face fell instantly, body tensing against your own as he looked into your eyes. “Star, baby…we told you not to worry about that. It’s just some stupid rumors and they will die out eventually- you know none of it is true.” You sighed, nodding as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I know…but- I just feel bad lying to them sometimes. Don’t you?” Felix’s brow furrowed, running a hand through his recently dyed hair before resting his head atop of yours. “Sometimes, yeah…but are you sure you’d be ready for them to know about us? Well- about you…like that- the attention you got when it was just speculation that we were together was already a lot to handle..could you imagine-“ you giggled a bit, leaning up to give him another kiss. “Felix, my love and my light…you know I’m ready whenever you are. All of you. It sucks that we can’t tell them about all of us but…what if the rumors never go away-“ He frowned again, cupping your face in his gentle hands before giving you a kiss to your forehead, nose, and then lips. “Star, my beautiful flower, I’ll see what o can do. I’m sorry this has been bothering you and that you had to see all that stay has been saying about you…I know it hasn’t been pretty-“ You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully as you poked his chest. “That’s an understatement.” He rolled his eyes back before pulling you back into his arms tightly, giving you a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll see what I can do, my love. Promise.” You beamed, resting against him for a moment before turning so that you could watch him resume his game. You trusted him with your life, so you trusted him to keep his promise to you to take care of things.

It wasn’t until a few night later at their second concert in the stop you were at that Felix kept his promise. You woke up alone, pouting a bit until you saw the message your boyfriend had left for you on a sticky note on your morning prenatal vitamins. Scribbled out in what looked like semi rushed handwriting he asked that you come to the concert that night, that he had laid out an outfit for you to wear and to be at your normal spot with their manager, Mr. Choi, there to make sure you were alright. You giggled like a school girl being asked to prom.

Quickly, you made your way into the bathroom to start getting ready as you slept in late that afternoon and with your growing midsection causing your back to ache already it tended to slow you down quite a bit.

You took your time in the shower, the warm water soothing your aching muscles. Once your fingers started pruning up you figured it was time to call it and end to your shower and made your way out with one towel wrapped around your body and another around your hair. You took your time with your makeup, getting the feeling Felix was planning something since for the past few concerts you were strictly told to stay back and rest. You would figure the father along in your pregnancy the more strict they would be on that little request but since he was asking the opposite you knew something was up. Putting the final touches on your makeup, you got dressed in the clothes Felix had left out for you. A light blue sundress with one of his zip up hoodies so you didn’t get cold once it started getting dark out. You slipped on a pair of white sneakers, wishing you could wear cuter shoes but you knew between the pregnancy and all the walking you would do at the stadium your feet would be ruined if you did. To off balance how plain the sneakers were you wore a pair of slightly frilled socks and gave yourself a look over in the mirror before nodding in approval. You looked cute, you had to admit. The sundress accentuated your bump perfectly making you a little nervous as to what everyone would say…last time they saw you there was no bump and they were under the impression you broke their sunshine, your sunshine’s heart. As you heard Mr. Choi knocking at the door you took a deep, shaky breath. It’s now or never you thought as you made your way to greet him at the door.

From the second you stepped foot on the stadium grounds you were getting looks from almost everyone you passed, your grip subconsciously tightening around Choi’s hand that held yours to help guide you through the crowds and security to your seats. “Don’t worry about them, Star. Just think about how exciting it will be to watch the kids perform after so long.” As he gave you a reassuring smile, the man helped you into your seat before taking his own beside you.

You knew he was right but you couldn’t help but look down at your lap as you heard the whispering from the stays seated around you.

The concert was amazing, as usual, you stood up for as much of it as you could though sometime during the end of the first half your little bundle of joy decided it was time to start kicking you relentlessly. Your smiled as you showed Mr. Choi with excitement as he had yet to witness the little one’s movement. You didn’t know how but you managed to make it through until the final ment, rubbing your stomach idly as you sat back in your seat to rest for a moment. The sound of your boyfriends cutting up on stage, teasing each other and their fans causing a bright smile to break out on your face until Felix brought his mic up to his lips and began speaking in his deep, somewhat serious tone.

“Stay, I know we’ve had a lot of fun tonight right?” His words were met with loud cheers and screaming until he held up a hand to silence the crowd, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. “I hate to put a damper on everyone’s energy but there is something very serious I need to share with you all.” Your eyes widened, color draining from your face. Oh no. Oh god- now?? He was going to go public about the two of you now?!

“I’m sure by now most of you know about my best friend, well besides the members…” You felt your throat going dry, hands fumbling with the cap to the water bottle Choi had brought for you halfway through the concert. “Well- Star is a little more than my best friend…and I think it’s time I share that with you all. Actually- I have a special song I’d like to dedicate to them tonight.” Suddenly your jaw dropped as you heard the familiar guitar riff start over the stadium speakers. “Oh my god…” Immediately you began tearing up, unable to process fully what was happening.

“All the fear and the fire

Of the end of the world

Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl

Happens great, happens sweet

Happily, I'm unfazed here, too”

You are taken back to one late night chatting with Felix, before you knew who he was, before you met face to face.

“All I’m saying is Hozier is so romantic! If someone ever wanted to serenade me and chose one of his songs I think I’d propose myself!” You giggled, taking a bite of the twizzler in your hand as you heard the slightly distorted laughter from the other end of the line. “Noted. Is there a song in particular or just any Hozier song? Ya know some of them aren’t exactly romantic-“ You sat up a little straighter, curious as to why he was so interested all of a sudden. “Why? Planning on trying to woo me sometime in the future?” You teased, taking a few more bites before hearing him respond. “Hey! You’re the one who started this conversation I’m only trying to indulge you.” He laughed again, causing your heart to flutter slightly at the sound. “Well…in that case- if I had to choose…probably Wasteland baby. “

His voice was so lovely, soft and slow and you felt your heart melting at the sound as tears welled in your eyes threatening to spill at any moment. It was like a dream, one hand over your heart and the other resting gently on your bump as your rubbed soothing circles against it while the baby inside you practically did back flips hearing the familiar sound of one of their dads voices that often sang to them during nights they were giving you trouble sleeping.

“Wasteland, baby

I'm in love

I'm in love with you

That's it”

As the song ended you began wiping away your tears quickly, not even realizing that for almost the whole song you were being shown on the giant screens above the stage. When you noticed your eyes widened and you attempted to hid behind Mr. Choi who was laughing at you endearingly. “Awe look! Star’s a little shy now~” You heard Chan’s teasing voice call out and you began to blush deeply as you shook your head. You heard a chorus of ‘awe’ echo around the stadium and after a few more teasing comments the show moved on with the members pretending it was the end only to come back and perform the last few songs for the encore.

The second it was over you were out of your seat and rushing so quickly to the green room backstage that Choi had to jog to keep up with you. “You know, for a pregnant person you are pretty fast!” He called out to you, laughing as he struggled to match your pace. You burst through the green room doors and looked around until your eyes found Felix currently patting a towel to his wet hair and face from the water works that had happened at the end of the show. “You-“

The aussie smiled, holding up his hands defensively as you came over and practically threw yourself into his arms while sobbing. “I can’t believe you actually just did that! Oh my god, Felix-“ He chuckled, rubbing your back slowly before giving a kiss to the top of your head. “Did you think I would have forgotten?” He whispered, pulling back as he held your chin with one hand lifting your face so your eyes could meet. “What about the company- what about the others-“ You started, of course you were going to worry about what going public as just the two of you would mean to the others. It was then that Chan spoke up, coming up behind you to pull you from Felix and into his own arms as he placed a soft kiss to your pouting lips. “It’s alright, baby. We all had a talk about this earlier….and we decided this is what we wanted. The fans already suspected something was up between the two of you, and the fact that the world knows about you both and not us doesn’t change the fact that you and Felix are ours as well. Nothing will change how we all love each other.” He gave you a warm, reassuring smile and you couldn’t help but whimper as more tears spilled down your cheeks. “Okay but what about the company?” You reiterated, trying to stay calm as you felt the baby in you begin to kick once more at all the commotion. “We talked with the company already and they agreed…with you being pregnant it was bound to come out at some point and better to be on top of it than let the rumors blindside us.”

This was fine. Everything was fine. Right? You let your boyfriends help you down onto the couch, getting you some water as the rush to get to them finally caught up with you and your feet began screaming at you. “Here, jagi- let me give you a massage before we go?” Minho offered, taking your legs and propping them on his lap before carefully removing your shoes and socks. Hyunjin handed him a bottle of lotion and he took it with a peck to the other dancer’s lips before beginning his ministrations on your aching feet and ankles. “And you are all really okay with Felix and I getting to be official in public…?” You couldn’t help but ask one more time, glancing around the room. “Baby we are so excited for you! Sure, we wish it could be all of us….but think- how would you feel if it was two of us getting to go public but not you? Would you feel upset?” You frowned, thinking for a moment before shaking your head. “No….I guess not. I’d be so excited for you both to share your love with everyone and in some way a piece of our love with it…” Everyone smiled, coming to surround you on the couch and all place a hand over your bump. “We are in this together whether it be in public or in private. We love each other and that’s all that matters in the end.” You nodded, giving them all a kiss as Minho finished his massage and returned your socks and shoes to your feet before helping you up. “Come on, we gotta get you back to the hotel and into a warm bath so all this exercise and excitement doesn’t absolutely kill you tomorrow.” Changbin teased as he pecked your cheek and helped you out to the car out back.

In the coming days it didn’t take long for stays to point out your sudden weight gain and piece together that the reason you had been absent wasn’t because you and Felix had broken up, but because you were pregnant with his child. The wave of hate was replaced with a wave of almost endless apologies and you couldn’t help but not hold it against them. If you had been a fan in their situation you too would have been upset at such a misunderstanding, even if you don’t think you would have gone as far as to say some of the hurtful things they did…you could sympathize with them to an extent. That’s what lead you to this decision.

You were currently on your way back from your anatomy scan, having made your boyfriends wait back at the hotel as you wanted to surprise them with the gender….well- them and stays together. After careful consideration you had decided that while you all agreed to keep your baby’s life as private as possible, you wanted to share some aspects of your pregnancy with their fans as a way to let them know you accepted their apologies. You sent a quick text to one of the stage coordinators, confirming your plans for the evening as you made your way into Chan’s room to meet with your three producer boyfriends to ask for a special request.

“Youtiful…? Really-“ Han asked, raising an eyebrow at you and you nodded. “It’s the baby’s favorite song! Please? You haven’t done it yet at one of the North American stops and it would be lovely to end with. Well- before Haven of course.” You giggled, knowing at least a few of them were probably onto you but you couldn’t help that they were perceptive. “Well…okay. Anything for our babies.” Changbin cooed, pulling you into his strong arms as you whined. “There is only one baby I told you! I know I’ve gotten kinda big but that doesn’t mean there are twins-“ The rapper shook his head, kissing your cheek. “Not twins, Starlight. You and the baby are both our babies~ obviously.” You couldn’t help but laugh, tackling him the best you could while nearly sixteen weeks pregnant.

Chan watched with adoration as Han cuddled up to the both of you, peppering both your faces with kisses causing you and Changbin to burst into a fit of giggles. God, he was so in love with all of you he couldn’t handle it sometimes, he thought to himself. Texting the staff currently setting stuff up at the venue about the setlist change, then the group chat, they all started to prepare for the concert leaving you behind to rest before getting ready yourself.

It was finally happening. You were down in one of the lower sections by the isle, Choi beside you as usual, when the familiar notes of Youtiful began to play near the end of the show. It was true what you said about this being the baby’s favorite, as evidenced by the way they started kicking the minute Chan began to sing the opening lyrics to the song. You played their songs often while in the hotel room alone as your boys were off busy with work. You had read that music was good for babies development even in the womb and what better music than the songs created by their daddies? It would also help them get used to their voices, so you tended to sing along despite your lack of talent by comparison. Youtiful was one you kept going back to, the soft notes perfectly balanced like a lullaby for your little one and you imagined playing it to help them drift to sleep at night once they were finally there and in your arms.

Anticipation built inside of you as Seungmin hit his high note towards the end of the song, and just before Jisung could start the last chorus confetti shot out and began covering the whole stadium in a sea of fluttering light pink streamers. The words ‘it’s a girl’ flashed on the screens above the stage and the reaction was instant. Stays were screaming in disbelief and excitement, the boys were all crying so hard they could barely make it through the last of the song and you were beaming with pride that you were able to pull off such a large reveal without their knowledge.

Inside your growing bump you felt your little girl continue to kick, causing you to tear up as you placed your hand over the movement gently. “Oh baby girl…you are already so loved. I can’t wait to finally meet you.” You sniffled, your free hand coming to wipe the tears from your eyes as Felix came rushing off the stage towards you to hold you as you both cried, the others trailing behind him. To the world they looked like supportive band members, friends, maybe even uncles. But you all knew that they were proud fathers to the little girl you were carrying in your womb. The most adored little girl in the world, or at least in your world.

author’s note; surprise shawtaaayy~~ hehe baby stay(star? Skz? Idk working title) is a GIRL!!! I debated waiting until later for the reveal but I am so impatient sooo you get it now!! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶꒱ა ₊˚ෆ happy Monday (for those of you reading this when I post and if you are in a similar timezone lol) take this as my apology for neglecting this series for so long- now to get working on the next update for GMYTMI~

taglist; (pink users I was unable to tag) @softkisshyunjin @coastinglove @palindrome969 @amara-mars @whiteghostt @ihrtlix @queen-in-the-shadows @soaplickerrr @skzswife @reallysparklychaos @sebastianswhore13 @velvetmoonlght @katsukis1wife @chancloud8 @corgilover20 @imeverycliche @bookswillfindyouaway @mavischerry

[lydiasfalling]

ABOUT YOU

percy jackson x apollo!reader

➸✧˖*°࿐ taglist : open!

˗ˋˏ warnings : none. pure fluff ˎˊ-

‧₊˚✧ lydia’s yap fest ! ✧˚₊‧

i love a good apollo reader bc sunshine ppl are so so sweet. enjoy!!

you had decided that this moment might be your favorite. you laid on the beach in your favorite swimsuit, tanning in the heat of the sun. percy was splashing around in the water, doing different tricks to earn praise from you. moments like these helped remind you that, through everything, you were just two teenagers in love. no war ( or temper tantrum from the gods ) could take you away from eachother.

“sunshine?” percy asked from the water, “you there?”

“mhm. just enjoying myself.” you returned, shooting him a toothy grin.

“come swim?” he looked at you with a pleading gaze, motioning for you to join him. normally, you would say no, but something about the way his hair laid over his forehead or the way his skin glistened due to the heat made you agree. you stood up, walking over to the water and standing there for a moment.

“whatcha waiting for?” he smirked, offering his hand to you.

“i’m trying to acclimate, thank you very much.” you placed your hand in his. he quickly dragged you into the water, you letting out a gasp due to the temperature change.

“you have to go all at once. makes it easier.” he winked at you in mischief before pulling you entirely under the water. due to the taunt skin of your boyfriend, you weren’t as cold as you expected to be. being apollos daughter might have helped with that as well, but you chose not to address that part. you blinked away the water in your eyes before swimming back up to the surface. pushing your hair out of your face, you looked around for percy.

“perce!” you knew he could hear you from wherever he was under the water, yet he didn’t respond with words. instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up. you wrapped your legs around his torso while he supported your thighs.

he looked at you with so much intensity you wondered if you should be concerned. his gaze held every emotion he couldn’t express through words. suddenly, he leaned in to place his lips on yours. the kiss was gentle. so soft yet filled with so much passion. one of his hands moved from its place under your thighs to the back of your neck. his skin against yours felt like pure euphoria. your hands tangles in his hair, pulling on the raven locks. this elicited a groan from percy.

he pulled back slowly, resting his forehead against yours. he spoke gently, “gods, sunshine.” he laughed slightly, head dipping down to your neck to trail kisses along the skin. “you taste like saltwater.” he pointed out.

“is that a good thing?” you questioned. you could feel his smile against the skin of your neck.

“it’s an amazing thing, sweetheart.” he spun you around in the water.

as time continued on, you both continued to swim around. from splashing eachother to floating on your backs, you just enjoyed each others presence. the sun started to set, casting an orange hue along the sky and water. bye the time the two of you got out of the water, your skin was filled with prunes and your hair was stiff. you didn’t mind, however, because you got to sown some much need alone time with your boyfriend in the serenity of the ocean water. you couldn’t have spent your afternoon better.

taglist : @laufeysvalentine @moonysloveee @raysmayhem-72

my masterlist

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 128 (Aspirations and Life Lessons)

The mood at the campsite the morning after Elsa Bjerg-Watson's death was strange. They were still in shock, and Conrad headed for his tools as soon as he woke up. He needed to channel this guilty feeling into finishing the upgrades on the treehouse, especially since no one else could do it.

But the imaginative young boys had turned the playhouse into a pirate ship overnight, which just made Conrad think about Rafa. He knew, thanks to Oliana and Leila, that Melissa had made her way to Sulani, but he hadn't heard from her or Rafa since.

Ash woke up smiling after spending the night in the treehouse. Officially a Creative Genius, his mind spun with a thousand ideas from the minute his eyes opened!

River made breakfast while Conrad checked on Jett. "I'm okay, Mr. Gordon. My dad said death is just a part of life. I just have to be there for my friend Jada."

He was impressed with Jett's cool-headed nature, but the event was tough on Conrad and he kept a close eye on the kid. He knew Jett was Heather's biological son, but that made no difference. He was a kid who'd seen something traumatic, and Conrad knew how grief could change a person.

So did Jett's father, Everett, who'd lost his mother in a housefire as a child. The town priest kept a close eye on his son, too, but Jett surprised everyone with how quickly he seemed to accept death.

Cassandra called River after breakfast and broke the news of Bernadette's passing, encouraging them to stay with their friends. Michael was out for a bike ride around the ruins when she phoned, but when he learned of the death of the family dog on his return, he was heartbroken.

Having dealt with pet death a few times himself, Ash was the first to open up to his cousin. Despite their differences, Ash was maturing, and today Michael needed a good friend.

"Bernadette's in a good place now," he said, playing with one of Greyson and Jett Pancakes' Omiscan dolls, brought back from one of their mother Spencer's trips to Selvadorada. "Bernie was in a good place before, but this other place is just as good. My mom says so, and she's a vet so she definitely knows."

"But Aunt Heather couldn't even help her," said Michael sadly.

"Sometimes animals are too old and too sick. Like people. But Bernadette remembers you just like you remember her, so you can think about each other all the time."

Ash's advice helped his grieving cousin, and later, River chatted with Conrad while he continued the upgrades and the boys ran off to play.

"Michael loves him again - says Ash has him convinced they could build a shovel large enough to dig to the other side of Simlandia. It's a good thing he has you, or he might turn out like Malcolm."

Conrad laughed. "Malcolm's not so bad. In my line of work, I've met worse."

"Like George Brindleton? You said his son hated his guts, right?" Conrad nodded. "That's a pretty good life goal: Raise your kids so they don't live in an abandoned lighthouse or go to prison just to get away from you."

"I don't think you've got anything to worry about, Riv. Michael and Sammy got the best."

"Mike told me once he wished I had a cool badge like you instead of a yellow hard hat," he said with a laugh. "Broke my heart."

"You love that hard hat."

"It makes me look taller."

As the upgrades slowly neared completion, they cut their conversation short when Greyson joined to direct Conrad's hammering. "Is that how you're supposed to install the lights? Where's the socket go in the middle of the forest?"

The sun had set by the time Conrad finally hooked up the fairy lights, but with this they called it a day. The community treehouse was complete, and the boys made up some cardboard decorations to change the pirate ship into a castle - more befitting of a town like Henford-on-Bagley with all its medieval ruins. They'd sleep in the treehouse or their tents for one more night, and in the morning they'd all return home.

Ash would be picked up by Ray Pierce and taken to San Myshuno for an extended Easter Break with the Landgraabs, but before then, Conrad finally found a way to talk with him about Ben and his dog.

"You were really good with your cousin today, and you were really nice to Jett after what he saw last night. I'm proud of you."

Ash smiled. "Thanks Conrad. But I was telling them the truth. Death isn't so scary, and ambrosia brings anyone back who doesn't want to be dead!"

"Ambrosia shouldn't be used that often. It's really difficult to make for a reason."

"Why did you and Mom learn to make it, then?"

"The ghosts who do want it are few and far between, but those who need it usually need help, so your mom and I decided to help ghosts like Felix together."

"Are you helping any other ghosts?"

He spoke carefully. "We are. We're going to help Ben and his dog."

Ash stared at him, wide-eyed. "I thought Ben might be a ghost! But his dog doesn't seem like one. I couldn't see through them like Felix Psyded. And Captain Whitaker let me pet him."

"Captain Whitaker wasn't see-though?"

"No, and his fur was wet because it was so snowy! Was he see-through when you saw him?"

Conrad nodded. "Why did you think Ben was a ghost?"

"He was surprised I could see him. But you've seen him, so it's not that weird, right?"

"Ben said I can see him because he's a great uncle or something, several generations back." But Ash wasn't related to Ben...

The young genius thought carefully, his mind undisturbed by these ghostly revelations in a way Conrad scarcely understood. "When I was really young, I had a bad accident," he said. "I don't remember it, but Nan (Nancy) said I died before doctors and the Watcher brought me back..."

Conrad's stomach dropped remembering that awful day, Heather's guilt-ridden hysteria, and her belief that a curse had come for her son. "That's not a bad theory," he reasoned, and Ash smiled proudly. "I'll ask Felix what he thinks. You're really okay with all this? Elsa's death? Bernadette? Seeing ghosts?"

He shrugged. "If the ghosts I see look like Ben and Captain Whitaker, I don't even know they're ghosts. Just sims who need help, right? How are you helping Ben and his dog?"

"Ben says he wants us to give ambrosia treats to Captain Whitaker and adopt him so he can finally cross over."

"Is crossing over for ghosts who don't want to float around anymore?"

Conrad nodded. "It is."

"I think it's a good idea to adopt Captain Whitaker! Mom loves strays; why haven't we adopted him already?"

Conrad laughed. "We've been a little busy, and now that your Aunt Hazel lives with us, the house is pretty full!"

"Yeah, but...it's rude to make Ben wait to cross over!"

He couldn't argue Ash's logic and smiled. "Tell you what. After you get back from spending Easter with the Landgraabs, we'll go out to Deadgrass Isle together and bring Captain Whitaker home."

"Yeah! Let's do it!"

Despite the theme of death running through their weekend in Isle of Volpe Park, they had a community treehouse, improved friendships, and life lessons to show for the experience.

In the grand scheme of things, the weekend project was a smashing success! ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

I want you guys to help guide Ash's future now that his aspiration is complete, so look out for a poll VERY soon!

[practicalgauntlet]

Something Sweet

Synopsis- You and Spencer are stuck in the bullpen doing paperwork. Everyone else has left for home or gone out for a drink, what a perfect time for such a delicious meal.

Category- Smut

Key- (---) =POV change

Notes- Chubby!Reader, None of my stuff will ever include Hard Dom Spencer because I just don't believe that man is into anything super kinky like slapping his partner around, that being said this includes smut, touching, unprotected sex, sex on a desk, semi-public sex (because they do it out in the open but no one is around)blow jobs, heavy tension build-up, mutual pining, established flirting, body worshiping, Female reader (if anyone wants I can repost this with different genders but I am a female so I find it easier to write smut with female anatomy), early season spencer (1-6)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The bullpen had long since been emptied, the last one to leave was your stoic boss with a tight-lipped 'good luck'. You had been nose-deep in the paperwork of your last case, the brutal story of a little boy and his dad, when you realized you were alone. Or so you thought you were.

There was a sense of unease witnessing such a busy place, usually rife with chaos and life, settle down for the night. The massive windows only further aided that feeling, with the cloud-shrouded, moonlit sky your only true beacon of light. But you were almost done, only a few pages left until you could hail a cab and be closer to the warm comfort of your bed.

However, if you wanted to finish the papers soon, you needed something to soothe the piercing ache in your stomach. When was the last time you ate? Oh, that's right, you went out with Emily and the girls for lunch. With a quick glance at your wristwatch, you grumbled at the time. It was now eleven-thirty, which made it roughly ten hours since you had last eaten.

You stand up from your desk, arms instinctively shooting high above your head to relieve the tension that clung to your back and shoulders. You couldn't help the way your eyes darted to the darkest corners of the room or the way you hovered your hand above your gun as you walked down the hall to the break room. The dark had always made you antsy, but after years of hunting the monsters that went bump in the night, you knew to be cautious.

When you turned the corner though, you saw the sterile white light of the breakroom illuminate the hall, banishing all thoughts of hidden dangers and bringing forth the fear of an intruder. Sure you couldn't be the only one in this building staying later to finish work, but you could have sworn you said goodbye to everyone. And after all those times this place had been infiltrated, you didn't hesitate to unclip your holster and slide your gun into your hands.

You didn't click off the safety though, the possibility of an innocent life was still high enough that you didn't want to risk anything. As you pressed yourself to the wall, adrenaline corsing through your blood, you slowly creep towards the breakroom.

It wasn't until you were at the open doorway, gun half raised for both possibilities, that you realized you weren’t the only agent burning the midnight oil. Spencer Reid was at the counter, his hands splayed on the counter on either side of the coffee pot he was yawning over.

"Jeeze, Spence." You murmured, you heartbeat still racing. It didn't help that Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, loosened his tie, and forgone his usual sweater in favor of a white dress shirt. His hair was wild, like he had spent the past few hours running his hands through it. "You scared me."

"Sorry," He simply said, turning his head towards you. "Do you want a cup?"

If it'll keep him there, displayed for your greedy eyes; then yes. "I'd never say no coffee."

The tired smirk that flashed across his face made your knees weak. Even if he looked completely ran ragged, tired from the day and whatever paperwork you assumed he was staying late for, he still managed to send heat through your body.

You walk up to him, turning and leaning back against the counter to join him in watching the coffee pot slowly fill up. The two of you didn't talk at that time, only glancing at each other when the other wasn't looking.

"Did you know," Spencer started having reached his quota of tension filled silence. "In the eighteenth century, some governments tried to ban coffee because they thought it would encourage radical thinking."

"I did not know that." You chuckle, loving the way he turns his head to look at you. Spencer's big brown eyes seemed to swirl with emotion, something heady yet fragile.

The coffee machine beeps, startling the two of you out of your impromptu staring contest. Spencer goes about searching for your favorite mug, grabbing his along the way, and filling the two up. He dumps a shit load of sugar in his but leaves yours empty. "It's funny, in all the years we've known eavhother, I don't know how you take your coffee."

You grab the mug, body lighting up with excitement when you have to reach across Spencer to get to it. He doesn't move out of your way, only watching as your hand just barely brushes against his stomach.

"Depends on what mood I'm in." It wasn't until you heard your voice in your own ears that you notice the sultry tone to it.

Spencer leans in, not enough to count as a move but enough that you notice he was both infinitely closer than before and still miles apart from you. "And what mood are you in?"

Your breath escapes you, crawling out of your lungs and into the open air between the two of you. Your next words were no more than a whisper. "I'm in the mood for something sweet."

The smile that graced his face was something you had never seen Spencer wear. Especially not in a situation like this. It was confident, sure...heated. "Good to know."

Spencer said nothing else as he sipped from his mug and walked back to the bullpen.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The next time you find yourself staying at headquarters later than the rest of the team, you weren't surprised to find Spencer still seated at his desk. And just like last time, Spencer had relaxed thoroughly at his desk. He was sporting his white dress shirt again only this time his tie hung on the back of his chair with his vest and he had unbuttoned the top two buttons.

You found it hard to focus on your work, what with Spencer just a few desks away from you. Instead of the last case and what you were supposed to write down regarding all that had transpired, you couldn't take your eyes away from the cut of his jaw. Or the column of his throat. Or the tone forearms he rested on the edge of his desk. The way his lips rapidly moved as he whispered to himself while his fingers swiftly trailed down the page.

You adjusted yourself in your seat, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs and relieve yourself of the building pressure between your legs. In the emptiness of the bullpen, your movement echoed and drew the attention of Spencer. He looked up and smiled, not at all privy to your internal battle and rising blood pressure.

---

What you didn't know though, was that he was watching you from his peripheral; aware that your eyes were on him. He noticed you moving around as if you couldn't quite get comfortable, shifting back and forth in your chair every now and then.

When he looked up at you, your chair creaking loudly throughout the room, he had caught you. You swiftly look down, pretending to write something down while a blush crept up your cheeks.

Spencer didn't know what was going on between the two of you, it was something he had never experienced in his life. He knew all species were driven to find mates through different methods of appeal. What he didn't expect was to be affected by that natural urge to attract. When it came to you, he felt suave, confident, and appealing. Words and actions naturally bypass his strict filter and he became someone he'd never thought he'd become.

When you would look up at him with a bright smile, he could always tell what you were thinking. Especially once he caught your eyes darting to his lips. But he never felt good enough, not as he flirted back, not as he fantasized about what you would taste like on his tongue. No, Spencer Reid was a destined loser, fated to a life surrounded by only friends and family. Not a beautiful woman who'd allow him the great privilege of touch and pleasure.

Again, he found himself acting without thinking. He had waved you over, desperately needing to see your face more clearly, yearning to feel the warmth of your body next to his.

You slowly got up, hesitant at first but the closer you got the more confident your stride became. You sat at the desk in front of him and when you sat down your legs brushed against his. It sent a jolt through his body, igniting a flame that had slowly been stoked over time.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the only sound was pages being flipped. Spencer couldn't focus on his paperwork anymore, too engrossed in the way your leg kept brushing against his. It was like you wanted to torture him slowly; with every shift of your hips.

A couple times he peeked at you after your ankle knocked with his to see if you were doing it on purpose. But it seemed as if you put all your willpower into the paper before you. Spencer noticed that you hadn't moved on from that one page in the half hour you had sat next to him. Maybe you were just as affected by this as he was.

To test his theory, he sank a little lower in his seat, spreading his legs and taking up more room. You stiffened when he gently shifted his foot to touch yours, then the other. He gauges your reactions, forming a hypothesis as to why you were so wound up.

Taking it further, his work completely forgotten, Spencer straightened up and leaned forward. This drew your attention, pulling your eyes to his like the speed of light. "I think I'm in the mood for something sweet."

Spencer relished in the blush that he brought to your cheeks and knew he was right. You felt the same pull that he felt. You were riddled with the same yearning he was. He hummed with delight, standing up and holding his hand out for you. You took it hesitantly, curious as to what had taken over him.

Instead of taking you to the breakroom like you thought he was going to, he spun you around so that your ass was pressed against the edge of your desk. You gasped with surprise as Spencer leaned forward and blocked you in with his hands on either side of your hips. The man in question was surprised aswell, his actions skewing so far away from his intentions. But now that he had you in his grasp, your perfume clouding your mind, he couldn't stop himself as he leaned in.

Your lips were as soft as he imagined. The way his whole world turned upside down the moment his mouth was pressed to yours and his hands found purchase on your hips just so he could have something to hold on to.

His mind spun as his hands uncontrollably kneaded the soft flesh of your hips and waist. You pulled back, your breath fanning across his face as you greedily took in the air he stole from you. Spencer only allowed you a second or two before diving back in, tilting his head so he could access your mouth better.

It felt like his body was acting on pure instinct, every thought, every fact and statistic evading his mind. He was sure if someone asked him about anything other than the way you felt or tasted he would come up blank.

Spencer couldn't help the groan of delight as your hands flew to his chest, skirting up his shirt and landing on his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, drawing him deeper into the kiss as you cart your fingers through his hair.

If Spencer believed in heaven, this would be it.

---

Spencer had you pinned to the table, his hands roaming over your backside like he was trying to memorize the feel. In a split second three things happened. Spencer slotted himself between your legs, drawing his knee up and pressing his thigh against your throbbing cunt. The sudden and delicious friction had you gasping and Spencer took the opportunity to delve his tongue into your mouth. It took only half a second for your tongues to touch before the two of you let out a shuddering moan.

The sound rang out into the bullpen, echoing throughout the empty room and drawing the two of you back into reality. Spencer looked at you with wide eyes, like he had been acting solely on impulse. "Is," He cleared his throat, closing his eyes for just a second before leaning his forehead against yours. "Is this okay?"

You pull your hands out of his hair and down to his cheeks, cupping his face so he could look you in the eyes. "It's more than okay, Spence."

Again, he closed his eyes as if he were holding something back. The next time he spoke, his voice was ragged and strained. "You taste as sweet as I imagined."

You didn't like being so far away from him, so you pulled him back to you and met his eager mouth with yours. One of his hands trailed up your body, leaving a blazing path up your side. You felt his breath shudder once he reached your heavy breast, his hand at the edge of your ribcage as his thumb gently rested below your nipple.

"Can I-" He murmured against your lips and before he could even ask you've popped the buttons of your blouse.

Spencer pulls back to admire you, his deft fingers gently pulling the fabric away to expose your bra. In a bout of abnormal confidence, Spencer slips your blouse off your shoulders and unhooks the clip of your bra.

In the dim light of Spencer's desk lamp, you could see the caramel brown of his eyes taken completely over by his blown iris. He's blatantly staring at your tits, the cold air hitting your exposed skin and sending goosebumps over your arms.

"You're," He hums again, only this time it sounds like a broken, strangled groan. "You're so beautiful."

Before you could respond, Spencer grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up on the desk. Not a moment later his mouth was enveloping your nipple. The wet heat of his mouth, of his tongue, on your skin was pure ecstasy. The way he swirled his tongue over your nipple before sucking the skin into his mouth.

His other hand came up and palmed your lonely breast, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple to mimic his mouth. He kissed all across your chest, sucking on spots until you felt blood pool to the surface.

"Spence..." You sigh, loving the feel of him but needing his skin on yours, needing him to chase the chill that threatened to creep in. When he didn't let up, you pulled at his hair and brought his face close to yours. "Spence, take off your shirt."

The look on his face was adorable, with his eyes blown wide and dark, a goofy smile stretching his face as he looked at you like you were worth the world. "Yeah," That smile never left his face. He pulled away from you only far enough to undo the buttons of his dress shirt and slip the fabric off of his shoulders.

You pull him back to you, the heat of his skin as delicious as you needed it. He met you in the middle, your chest pressed against him as his mouth ravaged yours. Spencer shifted to get closer to you. In doing this, he pressed his hips into you and you felt the hard outline of his cock in his slacks.

You experimentally roll your hips, both desperate for friction and curious as to how he'd react. He hunched over, his body shaking around you, and groaned. You did it again and he tossed his head back, exposing the delicious column of his throat.

You wanted to mark him like he marked you, so you leaned forward and latched on. You kissed and sucked all over his neck and while you were distracted, Spencer grabbed your hips and pulled you back to him.

Over and over again, he thrust into you. With his hips growing more erratic, you pull away from his neck and take his face in your hands. "Spence, Spence, stop."

Immediately he jumped back, his face flushed and his breath ragged. " Did I do something wrong? I'm so sorry, I couldn't control myself."

He was too far, the open air of the bullpen nipping at your exposed skin. Instead of pulling him closer, you hop off the desk and peel off your skirt.

"You did nothing wrong, we just can't have you coming in your pants now can we?"

Spencer was watching your every move. His eyes tracked the way you hooked your thumbs into your waistband and slowly slid the skirt off for him. Thank god you chose comfort today, you didn't know how embarrassing it would be to try and seductively take off a pair of pantyhose.

You kicked off your shoes and stood before Spencer in just your panties. He was tense, hands opening and closing at his sides as he watched you with heavy lids. Half wanting to get him adjusted to the situation and half because you were dying to taste him, you drop to your knees in front of him and slide your hands up his thighs.

"This okay?" You ask, making sure his comfort is put above all else.

He reaches for your cheek, sliding his palm into your hair so he is holding your face at just the right angle. "More than okay."

You undo his button, then his zipper, slowly pulling down his pants in the process. Just because you were selfish and desperate, you shuck off his boxers along with his slacks and finally he was free.

His cock bobbed in front of you, pulsing with desire. It was hot to the touch as you wrapped your hand around the base, giving him a few experimental strokes. The noises he was already making were pure ecstasy and you hadn't even taken him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck-" Spencer groaned, his voice strained as you plant a little kiss on the head of his cock.

You flick your tongue out, tasting the salty precome that wept from the tip. Slowly, you wrapped your mouth around him, flattening your tongue so you could take him better.

Spencer let out a long, ragged groan as swirled your tongue over that sensitive little nerve under the head. His hands flew to your hair, gently pushing your head down and pulling you back before you could gag. You bobbed your head only three times before he was yanking you back and gripping the base of his cock.

"Hold on, hold on."

You look up at him, watching as he staves off his orgasm. You couldn't help but enjoy the sight. Spencer Reid, the passionate and seemingly innocent young Doctor was looking down at you with his cock in his hand.

You bit your lip at the sight, ready to devour him whole if he let you. Spencer closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he pulled you up by your hand. He led you back to the desk, urging you to sit back on it. You oblige, excited to finally feel full of his cock. But when Spencer gets to his knees, you let out a whine of disappointment

"I want to return the favor." He said as he stared at your throbbing cunt like a starved man sat before a buffet. But you were ready, you needed him now.

You gently tugged on his hair until he was looking at you. "As much as I'd love for you to go down on me, Spence, I need you."

"I'm right here."

"No," You look at him pointedly, slipping your hand down your stomach so you can trail your fingers through your slick. " I need you. Please, Spence."

His eyes widened and he abruptly stood. "I don't, I don't have a condom."

You spread your legs, hoping the glistning of your need was enough to persuade him. "I'm on the pill, it's okay."

He let out another shuddering breath, his hands tentatively taking your legs and wrapping them around his back. With a hand on his cock, he aligns himself with you. Spencer didn't break eye contact as he slowly pushed in.

The stretch of him, the burn, was like nothing you've ever felt. A loud,, echoing moan wrenched itself out of you as he went deeper. He's still pushing in, pausing every now and then so the two of you can catch your breath. Once he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours, and he takes his hand to your cheek.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

Never in your life had you heard Spencer talk like this, so vulgar, so heated. He looked at you like you hung the very stars he studied. The two of you sit still for a moment, basking in his gaze and his cock and his body and everything that was Spencer Reid.

"You have to move, please, you have to move." You whisper, feeling that sudden, desperate need for him to take over once again.

"Right," He mutters, that goofy smile back on his face. It falls the moment he pulls back, keeping his cockhead inside before pushing back in.

Spencer's eyes are screwed shut as his thrusts pick up the pace. It was slow like molasses and built a different type of pressure than you were used to.

"I'm not going to last long, " He whispers, arms shaking from where they were braced by your head.

"That's okay, Spence, just let go."

You slide your hands between the two of you, your middle finger swirling across your clit to get yourself to come faster. You wanted nothing more than to become undone with him.

Spencer groaned in your ear, whispering sweet nothings as he kisses and sucks more hickies onto your neck. Once he notices your hand, he slaps it away and replaces your finger with his thumb.

It was a new sensation, his now positioning thrusts joining with the rough way he was treating your clit. You were ricocheted into an orgasm faster than ever before.

White hot pleasure flooded you as you curled into Spencer. Not a moment later you feel him settle as deep as he can and moan into your neck. Warmth is spread inside you, leaking out of your spent pussy and onto Spencer's cock.

It took the two of you a few minutes to gather your breath and remember who and where you were. Spencer was still on top of you, his softening cock slipping out as he pulled away.

That stupid, adorable, goofy smile didn't leave his face. Not as he helped you up, not as he littered your face with sweet peering kisses, not even as he watched you get dressed. You felt an ache deep within your facial muscles and realized you wore that same grin.

Spencer was still all over you, holding you close to him and kissing you wherever he could get his lips. "Can't I go down on you next time?"

"Next time?"

Spencer's face fell. "I mean, if you want a next time."

You chuckle and give him a quick peck on the cheek, not at all satisfied with him yet. "How about you come back to my place if you're still so eager?"

[twilightsnewmoon]

Beneath the Moonlight🐺

Pairings: Remus lupin! X fem! Reader

Summary: Remus Lupin has always kept his distance. It’s easier that way—safer. But you? You’ve always had a way of slipping through the cracks, finding him in the quiet moments, offering warmth in places he thought were meant to stay cold.

The first time you saw Remus Lupin, really saw him, was in third year. He was always there—quieter than James and Sirius, less mischievous but no less important. A steady presence in the chaos they stirred up. But that year, something changed.

You noticed the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his fingers trembled when he thought no one was looking. The way he laughed at Sirius’s jokes but never quite let himself enjoy the moment. The way he disappeared once a month, returning with new bruises and a fresh excuse.

You weren’t sure why you cared so much. Maybe because no one else seemed to notice—not really. Or maybe because you saw something of yourself in him.

You fell in love quickly, but not easily. There had been crushes before—fleeting, inconsequential. You’d harbored feelings for a few boys during your years at Hogwarts, but you always knew they would lead nowhere. Because, let’s be real, life is boring without a crush. Or at least, that’s what people would say.

But not you. Definitely not you.

Because this was different. This wasn’t some passing infatuation, some harmless schoolgirl crush to giggle about in the dorms. This was slow, creeping, undeniable. This was the way your heart stumbled over itself when Remus smiled, the way your chest ached when he looked tired, the way you found yourself waiting—just waiting—for any excuse to be near him.

It started small. An extra chocolate frog left on his books in the library. Sitting beside him in the common room instead of across from him. Quiet conversations about things that didn’t matter but somehow meant everything.

After that, you easily merged your way into the exciting world of the Marauders. James and Sirius welcomed you with open arms—loud, reckless, and endlessly entertaining. Peter followed their lead, always eager to include you in their schemes. And Remus, albeit still reluctant to have you near, didn’t tense up as much whenever you sat beside him in the common room. He didn’t make some lame excuse to skip Hogsmeade trips or disappear the moment things became too comfortable.

Slowly, you became part of them.

And maybe, just maybe, Remus was starting to realize that he didn’t mind.

And then, one night, everything changed.

Creeping down into the common room, you heard hushed voices—urgent, almost frantic. You couldn’t quite make out the words at first, so you stepped closer, just barely staying out of sight.

Sirius was the first voice you recognized, his usual bravado edged with something softer. “We have to tell her. She’s practically one of us—another Marauder—and she doesn’t even know?”

A heavy sigh followed, then the quiet sound of someone pinching the bridge of their nose. Remus. “You know why I can’t, Sirius. She’d hate me. She’d call me a monster.”

James scoffed, his face twisting in disbelief. “Moony, you know that’s not true. She’d never react that way. She’s too kind. Besides, she’s already put up with Prongs over here—she basically has to accept you, too.”

“Oi,” Sirius muttered, shooting James a glare.

But then he turned back to Remus, voice gentler this time. “He’s right, Moons. That girl would show kindness to the cruelest of monsters. And you? You’re not one of them.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Because now, you understood.

And somehow, you had always known.

The pieces fell into place so easily it almost hurt. The exhaustion in his eyes, the scars he never explained, the way he pulled away just when things started to feel too close, too safe. The way James and Sirius always looked at him with something unspoken in their eyes—like they were carrying the weight of a secret too heavy for one person to bear.

They were talking about you. About telling you.

About Remus.

A werewolf.

Your stomach twisted, not in fear but in something deeper, something aching. He truly thought you would hate him. That you would look at him differently, flinch away like so many others had before. That realization burned more than anything else.

Before you could even think of what to do, what to say, you turned and crept back up the stairs, heart hammering so loudly you swore they would hear it.

You didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, you found Remus in the library, hunched over a book, absently twirling his quill between his fingers. The circles under his eyes were darker than usual. He looked tired, distant, as if his mind was somewhere else entirely.

You hesitated for only a moment before sliding into the seat across from him.

His eyes flickered up to you, and for a second, you saw something—relief, maybe, or hope—but then his guard slammed back into place. He straightened, forcing an easy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Morning,” he said lightly, like he hadn’t spent the night before convinced you would hate him.

You studied him for a moment, taking in the way his fingers tensed around his quill, the way his shoulders were drawn just a little too tight. He was waiting for something. For you to unknowingly confirm his fears.

Instead, you reached across the table and covered his hand with yours.

Remus froze.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of every unspoken word, every moment that had led to this. But you didn’t let go.

“You should’ve told me,” you said softly.

His breath hitched. His gaze darted to your face, searching for something—disgust, fear, hesitation. But there was none. Just quiet understanding. Just you.

“I—” His voice cracked, and he looked away, jaw tightening. “I didn’t want you to see me differently.”

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I don’t.”

He let out a slow, shaky breath, staring down at your hands like he couldn’t quite believe it. Like he had been bracing for the worst and now didn’t know what to do with the relief settling in his chest.

And then, just barely, he squeezed back.

A silent thank you.

A silent promise.

Maybe, just maybe, Remus Lupin was finally starting to believe that he wasn’t a monster after all.

And maybe, just maybe, you had always known that, too.