#so just for everyone who's ever read any of my fics or given me kind words for my writing thank you so much <3 <3 <3
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we did it bbyyyy
#real talk i cant believe i made it so far my anxiety is sooooo bad i still cant believe i post anything at all#so just for everyone who's ever read any of my fics or given me kind words for my writing thank you so much <3 <3 <3
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It's very ironic to get comments on "Scum Villain" fics that are essentially revenge fantasies against certain characters, given... uh... everything about "Proud Immortal Demon Way" and how the story of SVSSS interacts with that in-universe story.
Sometimes, it's mildly amusing. Sometimes, it's a little disturbing, depending on how violent and disproportionate the fantasy is, because even if I've written some villain as a real asshole, I don't want to open my inbox to people wishing death and gory violence on anyone. A couple times, it took me a hot second to figure out that the violent fantasy wasn't directed at ME specifically.
Thankfully, that extremism is quite rare, so it's more often people wishing milder physical pains or, uh, complete social humiliation on certain characters, sometimes just for the "crime" of being mild inconveniences or slightly unfriendly to the fic's protagonist. Most of the time, I assume this is some form of playful exaggeration on the commenter's part, a reader exorcising mild annoyance at a fictional antagonist and expressing some sympathy or compassion for the hurt protagonist. A reader mentioning they kind of want to see a character grovel pathetically for forgiveness only to get kicked in the face is not necessarily a reader who wants that revenge fantasy to actually happen in the story.
Sometimes, though, it is hard to tell if someone genuinely thinks that all of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect should be destroyed because Luo Binghe was abused or Shang Qinghua was overworked. Like, I sure hope this is just hyperbole! I sure hope that you don't honestly think that "an eye for an eye" or "I take two of your eyes and also your tongue because you took one of my eyes" are, like, reasonable justice policies! I sure hope that you don't sincerely think that collective punishment is in any way a good thing and that a random junior disciple on the tenth peak (who probably doesn't even know who Luo Binghe is) deserves to suffer because the original Shen Qingqiu was a really shitty person.
But revenge fantasies like "Proud Immortal Demon Way" are popular for a reason, so I can never quite be sure! In every fandom, you have Peerless Cucumbers demanding that villain characters be castrated or killed for being abusive pricks, who cheer on the fictional revenge fantasy of hurting someone ten times as much as they hurt you, and some fans would be absolutely horrified by that kind of "retribution" in real life and others would... cheer that real life "punishment" on as well.
I don't really have a strong point to make with this post! This post is too long to be a casual reminder: "Hey, I hope you're always keeping in mind that messages you send on the internet are being directly received by real people who 1) can't read your tone and 2) don't know your 'real life' opinions to immediately know if you're joking." And I'm focused more here on how amusingly ironic this type of commenting is in regards to SVSSS and PIDW specifically.
Like, it's fun sometimes to get a little "Peerless Cucumber" about our favorite protagonists! (Shen Yuan said a lot of shit on the internet about PIDW but apparently generally doesn't really want people in SVSSS to suffer.) But once your revenge fantasy starts getting a little too detailed in regards to public humiliation and social ruin, torture and dismemberment, arson and leaving someone to get eaten alive by fire ants, making everyone who ever mildly slighted you beg for their life at your feet... It's like, "Bro, I don't think this comment is even Peerless Cucumber levels anymore. You are straight-up getting into original Luo Binghe territory here."
#tossawary svsss#violence#character death#long post#SY wrote some bitchy comments about PIDW; but SVSSS doesn't seem to think well of the human stick thing or say Zhuzhi killing Gongyi Xiao#you get this with MDZS and TGCF discourse too; like hmmm bro I think you missed all of the themes here about revenge vs justice
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Time Can't Stop Me Quite Like You Did | Part Two
Text Divider by @saradika-graphics
SUMMARY | The music blares and everyone’s out of it, but she turns and sees him. Detached from it all, Aemond stands on the balcony with a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips - watching the party unfold, watching her. The realization hits her as their eyes meet.
It’s him. It’s always been him.
WARNINGS | 18+; SMUT; Angst; Non-Con and Violence Elements; Use of Substances and Alcohol; Complicated Relationship Dynamics.
PAIRINGS | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader [MAIN]; Modern!Daeron Targaryen x Reader
WORD COUNT | 13.2k
Check out the art created for this fic by the lovely, talented and so very kind @azperja here!
A/N | Not beta read. ;)
She sits at Aemond’s kitchen counter, her eyes wandering over the photographs sprawled out in front of her. Each image captures the haunting beauty of the ruins of Valyria, a place Aemond has been passionate about for ages due to his heritage. The smell of French toast wafts through the air, mixing with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. He pours her a mug and slides it over to her.
Just for a second, the domesticity of it all makes her want to blush.
She has been seeing men, yes. Ever since she got to college, there have been no shortage of men who want to date her; but she has been hesitant about letting any of them close. Perhaps it is the idea of being touched once more, or the comfort she has grown for herself that she refuses to let anyone in - she does not know.
But not Aemond, seems like. He’s been her bedrock ever since she moved to Oldtown, and sometimes, he does little things that make her feel warm.
She has a hard time figuring out what it is, but it’s certainly not feelings. She’s had them before, for Daeron - it’s a lot more intense, usually.
This is easy. Too easy. It is easy to be attracted to Aemond, he’s got that about him. But he’s also Aemond - Daeron’s brother. It is quite messed up. It is easy to be infatuated, she feels. But she’s not quite ready to do anything about something so miniscule - especially given what he means to her.
It’s all a bit of fun, really. A mindless little crush. All of it goes away in time.
And there’s also the fact that he seems to like someone else, and not her.
Aemond moves gracefully around the kitchen, flipping slices of bread in a sizzling pan. His expression is animated as he recounts the details of his recent trip. "Valyria is everything I imagined and more," he said, his voice filled with awe. "The architecture, even in ruins… phenomenal.”
She picks up a photo showing a grand, crumbling archway, its intricate carvings still visible despite centuries of decay. "This is incredible," she murmurs, tracing a finger over the image. "Like walking through time.”
He smiles, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Exactly. Every piece of rubble, every shattered column… and the dragons… you can feel their presence, even now."
She looks up at him, curiosity piqued. "Did you find anything related to your family?"
"I did. There were symbols and inscriptions that matched the Targaryen coat of arms. There was this…” He turns quickly to rustle his hands through the photos, trying to find one that he probably intends to show her. When he spots it, he slides it to her by the fingertips. “This old stone tablet with the Targaryen dragon carved into it, still intact despite the centuries.”
"That's incredible. It must have been surreal to see it in person."
"It was," Aemond agrees, his voice tinged with reverence as he went back to the stove. "There were also ancient manuscripts, or what was left of them. The text was almost completely eroded, but you could still make out references to my ancestors. And there was a mural, faded and cracked, but you could see the dragons soaring over Valyria in them, with what we believe were the early Targaryens among them."
He placed the plate of French toast in front of her and sat down, his eyes glowing with excitement. "I even found a piece of what might have been a dragon egg, petrified but still recognizable.”
Wylde takes a bite of the French toast, savoring the warm, cinnamon flavor, but her mind was captivated by Aemond's discoveries. “How’d you end up making the trip? Thought it was closed for like… government reasons or something?”
“Right, so… Aegon-”
“That never ends well.”
The edge of his lips twinges upward and she clocks his faint smile. “He's the creative director of The Kingslander now.” She has heard of it. Aegon Targaryen was quite the flighty boy growing up, with little to no focus on anything low-key. He would always have an eye for anything creative and aesthetic though, and had a unique style. Alicent spotted an early opportunity for her eldest son, and had him intern at The Kingslander, one of the many magazines that Targaryen Consolidated owned. Soon enough, he had something to channel himself into, and it showed. From fashion photography to various directed photoshoots, he was in his element.
But at heart, Aegon was never meant for the desk lifestyle. So when Sara Snow - an archeology professor - tumbled into his life and told him she was to leave on an expedition for half a year, he took the opportunity to let loose and chase her across the globe. She had him enrolled into the documenting team so he wouldn’t be twiddling his thumbs, and he seems to have taken to it quite well.
‘So I’m like, into history now.’ She can clearly hear him say it. “I don’t know. He likes this girl, and he got access, so he invited me to go along because there may never be a chance again.”
“Sounds like such an Aegon thing to do,” she says wistfully as the last bits of her food disappear from the plate.
“What?”
“To put his heart on the line and take risks that involve going halfway across the globe to a restricted area for a girl.”
“He’s an idiot.”
“You wouldn’t do it?”
Aemond pauses, contemplating the question. "It's not that I wouldn't. It's just... different for me."
Wylde raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Different how?"
“He’s so… out of control. I’d not prefer that.”
“Hm. Or perhaps you haven’t had your crazy grand romantic moment yet.” Red blooms over his cheeks as he faces away, taking her plate to dump it into the sink. “Speaking of. You mentioned you met someone months ago! I’ve been here for three months already and you’re yet to tell me anything!”
“It’s very casual.”
“Liar. You’d not be hiding her like your life depended on it if it was.”
“Hm.”
She stands up, gathering her books and bag, ready to go home. She begins to assemble all the photos, carefully placing them back into the box. As she reaches for the last few, her fingers brush against a small, delicate emerald locket she hadn't noticed earlier. She holds it up, admiring its intricate design.
"Is this from the expedition too?" she asks, curiosity evident in her voice.
Aemond turns, scratching the back of his neck as he answers, "No, that's a friend's. She was looking at the photos earlier." A faint blush creeps up his cheeks, but Wylde notices it immediately.
"And is this the same… friend that you're trying to hide from me?" she teases, a knowing smile on her lips.
"Perhaps," Aemond admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
She chuckles, and stores at the back of her mind the observation that whoever he’s seeing comes and goes to the flat, just like her. "Good taste in jewelry, I'll tell you that much. I like her already."
She walks up to him, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug and planting a friendly kiss on his cheek. The tingling feeling is back again, but she ignores it like the plague.
"Food was good. One of these days you'll give Criston a run for his money," she jokes - to lower his tension or hers, she does not know.
Aemond mutters his thanks, his blush deepening. "Don't get your hopes up too high."
She strolls through the lively streets of Oldtown, her phone pressed to her ear. The scent of fresh pastries from a nearby café mingles with the distant hum of conversation, and the old world charm brightens up her day.
“Hey… been a while!” she says, her voice bright with genuine enthusiasm. “How’s everything at KLU?”
There’s a brief pause before Daeron’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Hi, yourself! Things are going great here. Campus is even more lively than I expected, classes are alright. How’s Oldtown treating you?”
You could have found out for yourself if you’d followed through with me, she thinks. She’s quick to kick her bitter thoughts to the curb though.
She glances around at the charming storefronts and the lively crowds. “It’s been a whirlwind. The courses are intense, but I’m getting used to the pace. I’m really enjoying the city - it’s everything I hoped it would be. So different from home, but in a good way. Aemond and I spend a lot of time together, so that’s nice.”
“Yeah, Oldtown is amazing,” Daeron agrees, his enthusiasm unwavering. “I remember going there to visit grandpa often as a kid.””
“Oh yeah!” Her curiosity gets the better of her, and her question tumbles out before she can stop herself. “How’re things with you and Floris?”
There is a moment of silence on the other end of the line. She can almost hear Daeron shifting, his voice a bit more guarded when he replies. “Oh, Floris is… she’s doing well. She’s been really busy with her studies and all. It’s been a bit hectic for her, but she’s handling it. You know how she is - always on top of things.”
No, I don’t know how she is, actually.
Her brow furrows slightly as she walks past the café, where the smell of coffee and baked goods wafts out into the street. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something feels off to her. “That’s good to hear. But you sound a bit... dull. Everything okay?”
Daeron let out a nervous chuckle. “No, it’s nothing like that. We’ve just been caught up in our own worlds lately. It’s a lot to balance with everything going on. But she’s fine, really. We’re fine.”
He’s lying. She knows. She knows him like the back of her hand.
Arianne Martell approaches her in the distance, her bright smile unmistakable. She sighs into her phone, deciding to let the topic drop for now. “Hey, Daeron, I’ve got to go. Catch up later, yeah?”
“Okay, bye. And hey-”
“What?”
“I miss you.”
Much and more has happened between them, but she can’t help but smile all the same. “Me too. We’ll talk soon.”
Heart warmed by the fact that she can have a conversation with him again without wanting to pull his spun silver hair out, she picks up the pace to join Arianne.
They queue up at the cart, their conversation slipping into the familiar rhythm of college gossip. Arianne’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she leans closer. “You won’t believe what I heard about Margaery Tyrell. Apparently, she’s been sneaking off to meet with Lionel Hightower.”
Wylde raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Margaery? Really? I thought she was with-”
Arianne nods enthusiastically. “Renly Baratheon, yes. But my brother saw him and Loras Tyrell making out at one of his parties.”
“Well. Fair enough.”
Arianne grins, clearly enjoying the drama. “Oh, it gets better. Apparently, they’ve been trying to get Cregan Stark to join them but he’s much too prudish for a threesome.”
“Prudish or just uncomfortable with them?”
“Who knows?”
As they walk past the cart, Wylde’s gaze drifts toward the window of a nearby restaurant. For a moment, she spots a familiar silhouette through the glass. She wants to think it’s Aemond, but it would be a reach to assume every tall man in a black hoodie is him.
But she spots Vhagar parked out front, and now she knows for sure.
Aemond is seated with his back to her, and she can tell by his posture that it's him. He’s accompanied by an obscured woman who gestures animatedly as she talks. They seem engrossed in deep conversation, and Aemond’s face is animated, his focus entirely on the woman before him.
Her curiosity is piqued, but she quickly refocuses on Arianne, who is now recounting the latest gossip involving the drama club’s lead actor.
It feels wrong to be peeking into Aemond's life like this.
Arianne’s laughter draws her attention back. “Anyway, I have a date with Arys tonight!”
“STOP! Really?”
“He finally asked me out, thank the Gods. Thought he was going to drag it out forever!”
She laughs, the earlier sight of Aemond slipping from her mind.
“Yeah so, you’ll come in and help me get ready?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
They are sprawled on his plush leather couch, the glow from the laptop illuminating their surroundings. The soft hum of a wildlife documentary is heard, the narrator's voice a soothing backdrop to the scenes of the Sarnor savannah playing out on the screen. Bowls of snacks—popcorn and chocolate-covered almonds—are scattered around them, within easy reach.
She is nestled comfortably against Aemond’s side, her head resting on his shoulder. His arm is draped casually around her, fingers idly tracing patterns on her arm. They are so close, their bodies glued together that it’d be so easy to assume that they were a couple, rather than friends who’ve known each other their entire lives. Every so often, Aemond’s hand dips into the bowl of popcorn, bringing a few kernels to his mouth, while she picks at the chocolate almonds. She feels the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath, the warmth of his body seeping into hers.
As his fingers trace gentle patterns on her arm, she feels a shiver run through her. It’s a simple touch, yet it sends her heart racing. She’s hyper-aware of every point of contact, every subtle shift in his posture. The way he holds her, casually yet protectively, makes her wonder if he feels the same way. Does he know how much these small gestures mean to her?
He’s just being friendly to a girl he’s known almost his entire life.
She steals a glance at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the laptop screen. His sharp features are softened in the dim light, and she notices the slight furrow in his brow as he concentrates on the documentary. She resists the strange urge to smoothen out the lines on his face and help him calm down.
She sighs contentedly, but soon a dull ache begins to build at her temples. She shifts slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the headache persists. She groans softly, bringing a hand to her forehead.
Aemond glances down at her, a look of concern crossing his features. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a headache,” she murmurs, closing her eyes and leaning further into him. “It’s been a long day.”
Without a word, Aemond begins to gently massage her scalp, his fingers working through her hair with practiced ease. His attention remains fixed on the laptop screen, but his touch is gentle and soothing, each movement easing the tension from her temples.
She feels a flutter in her chest, a familiar sensation she’s tried to ignore. The crush she has on Aemond, usually kept carefully in check, creeps up on her as he continues to massage her scalp. His touch is both comforting and intimate, sending shivers down her spine.
Hormones are a nasty little thing, she surmises as her mild feelings refuse to go away. How could they, when he’s holding her like this?
She feels the need to speak if only to calm herself down.
“Daeron and I spoke today.”
His hands stop immediately, and his face hardens as he looks down at her. She looks up to meet his gaze, and she refuses to think of how close she is to his lips. She won’t.
Perhaps she is a little attracted to him.
It’s natural, and honestly? An inevitability. He’s Aemond. Anyone with proper vision and a sound mind would be attracted to him. She’s just lucky that she knows him well enough to be part of his space.
It’s stupid and even a bit silly. She’ll be over it just fine.
She moves away from him, sitting facing him with crossed legs. “What did he say?” He asks, and she spots the defensiveness in his tone.
“Nothing to worry about, it was nice actually.” She smiles, still very fond of her long-time best friend. “We just caught up and he was telling me about KLU. He also said he had plans to visit here in the summer, so I’m quite excited!”
“And how can you be sure that he’s not going to let himself be pulled away again?”
“About that…” She sighs. Regardless of how messy their equation had been towards the end of school, she has grown back her affinity for the youngest Targaryen brother. She supposes all they needed was time. “I asked about him and Floris today, he seemed very hesitant with his answers.”
“Hm.” She hears the pop of each of his knuckles as he cracks them with a concentrated look on his face.
“I don’t know. I think he’s lying.”
“You’re sure?”
“I know him. I know him well, like the back of my hand. I know when he’s lying. He didn’t sound like himself. I worry for him.”
“It’s not your place to do anything until he asks for help.”
“But I didn’t even-”
“You know him and I know you. You’d trip over yourself trying to help him.”
Her shoulders slump as she realizes he’s right. It is in Daeron’s nature to come to her when he’s down, and it is in her nature to be there for him. She’s wired that way, truly. How can she not be, when she’s been that way for as long as she’s known him?
“I’d rather you not be hurt again. Daeron is… careless. He and Aegon never consider anything beyond the next ten minutes, and they leave a big mess in their wake.”
She smirks. “Are you using me as an excuse to take shots at your brothers?”
She sees the corner of his lips twitch, and she brings her hands together as she sighs once more. “I just… I’ve had time to get over the fact that we drifted apart. But it made me quite sad that he felt the need to lie to me and smooth things rather than actually tell me what’s going on, you know?”
“Happens.” His replies are curt and his disposition is rougher. She doesn’t know why, and she refuses to let it grow. “Nothing you can do about it,” he adds.
“Hm.”
The sounds of the documentary keep the room from being pin drop silent, and she gets off the sofa to go to the fridge. “We’ve run out of cheesecake.” She says, coming back to where she was sitting before.
“Yeah, I need to get more.”
“You could have gotten some when you went to Moonbloom a few days ago.”
Aemond’s nervousness was almost imperceptible to anyone who didn't know him well. But to her, the subtle shifts were as clear as daylight. She noticed how his jaw tightened just a fraction, the way his eyes seemed to flicker with an almost invisible tension. His usually steady hands would still, fingers curling ever so slightly into his palms. He’d draw in a slow, controlled breath, his chest rising just a bit higher than usual.
“When did you see me?”
The eyebrow of his functional eye lifts just a little, almost as if he’s asking her how she knew. "I saw Vhagar parked outside. Figured nobody else had a bike that looked similar. Thought you may be with someone, so I didn’t want to intrude."
"Professor Rivers," he replies, his tone dangerously neutral. "I was working on my papers about the expedition, using them for my semester submission, and we bumped into each other."
"Oh, okay. Weird, isn’t it? To bump into professors outside of campus. Like people let out of their natural habitat."
"Hm. Perhaps." His cheeks take on a faint pink hue, and she can’t help but smile.
"Why are you blushing?" she asks, laughing heartily, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "You don’t have a crush on her or something, do you?"
"Gods, no," he replies quickly, the words almost too quick. It’s a lighthearted quip to her, nothing more, but the slight tilt in his tone lingers in her mind, a small seed of curiosity planted.
“I mean, she is pretty. I wouldn’t blame you.” She laughs, trying to tease him further and he disappointedly nods side to side.
A few hours go by as they continue to pass the time, but Aemond seems a little tense from thereon out. He’s quieter - if that’s even possible - and his responses, more measured. She notices the way he occasionally bites the inside of his cheek, a habit he has when something's bothering him. His fingers tap lightly against his knee in an uneven rhythm, betraying his otherwise calm demeanor.
When she asks him a question, he pauses just a moment longer than usual before answering, as if carefully choosing his words. The slight furrow in his brow, the way his gaze occasionally drifts to the floor, and the almost imperceptible sighs he lets out - they all speak of an unease that she spots effortlessly.
These are the times when she hates knowing the Targaryen children as well as she does.
She watches him closely, feeling a pang of guilt. He’s not the kind to take these things to heart usually, but something about her teasing seems to have unsettled him this time. She no longer feels welcome, and she knows he’d rather be left alone now and to find her when he’s ready for her again. She doesn’t like that it has to be this way, but giving him his space is the most she can do.
She stands abruptly, murmuring something about an early class in the morning and how she has to go. He immediately softens then, and stands idly with his hands in his pockets as she packs her bag.
She doesn’t like leaving him like this, but just as she moves to the door, she turns at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand, holding onto her wrist. With his other hand at the back of his neck, his look is almost sheepish. “Listen, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable-”
“I’m sorry too. It wasn’t funny to tease about your professors. Didn’t realize you were quite touchy about it.”
“I’m not, just… I don’t know what happened.”
Her gaze is fixed at his strong hand holding hers, and she looks at it for too long before he notices it and drops it like hot coal. She misses the warmth of him immediately with a strange overwhelming feeling she cannot put into words. It’s not her silly little crush on him, it’s just a natural physical reaction, she tells herself.
She softens and melts immediately at his peculiar attempt to smooth things over with her, and it is heartwarming to her that he tries. “Aemond, it’s okay. You’re fine. If anything, I should apologize and I am sorry.”
“Neither of us should be apologizing, this is a non-issue.” He says, and she recognises the finality of his tone. There is no space for debate; and in all honesty, she doesn’t know why a throwaway statement became a big deal anyway.
“Okay.” As is her habit, she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses him on his warm cheek before saying bye. Tonight however, neither of them seem to want to leave each other as they continue to be glued to where they stand. She notices the ring on his finger and remembers Daeron, her mind racing to the conversation they had once more. Her mind travels to every word he said on their phone call, and the words rush out of her before she can help herself.
“You wouldn’t ever lie to me, would you?”
He sighs, leaning on the doorway with his hands folded into his chest. She cannot deny how effortlessly good he looks right then.
“I’d never hurt you.”
“Okay.” She absentmindedly nods as she repeats the words to herself and she bites her lip. She clutches onto her sling bag as she finally moves away.
She doesn't quite dwell on the fact that he promised not to hurt her but didn't exactly promise never to lie.
The thrum of music pulses through the packed house, every beat vibrating through her bones. She scans the crowd, trying to spot Arianne, but her friend has disappeared into the sea of bodies. She shrugs, taking another sip of her beer. The alcohol has dulled her senses just enough to make everything feel a little softer around the edges.
As she leans against the wall, Willas Tyrell saunters over, a confident smile playing on his lips. They’ve been eyeing each other all night, and now, with eight rounds of beer warming her veins, she feels bolder than usual.
"Hey, lost your friend?" he asks, his voice smooth and warm.
"Yeah, Arianne's somewhere in this madness," she replies, laughing lightly. "But it's not so bad. I found you."
He chuckles, taking a step closer. "Lucky me. What are you drinking?"
"Beer. Not my first choice, but it does the job."
"Well, if you're up for something better, I’ve got some whiskey upstairs," he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Interested?"
She arches an eyebrow, feeling a thrill of excitement. "Whiskey, huh? That does sound tempting. Is that all on offer though?"
"Why don’t you come and find out?" he teases, holding out his hand.
Without hesitation, she takes it, feeling the warmth of his fingers wrap around hers. They weave through the crowded living room, climbing the stairs to a quieter part of the house. The music grows fainter, the air cooler, as they reach an empty room at the end of the hall.
He closes the door behind them, and she turns to face him, her heart pounding with anticipation. They are inches apart, the charged energy between them palpable.
"You know," she says, her voice low. "I've always thought you were kind of cute."
"Kind of cute?" he repeats, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I was hoping for more than 'kind of.'"
"Well, you might have to work for it," she challenges, stepping closer until their bodies are almost touching.
He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small flask, unscrewing the cap and offering it to her. "How about some of this?"
She takes a sip, the burn of the whiskey warming her insides and adding to the haze in her mind. She hands it back to him, their fingers brushing in the exchange, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Not bad," she says, licking her lips. "Maybe you do have good taste."
He laughs softly, his eyes darkening with desire. "Glad you think so. Now, where were we?"
"Right about here," she whispers, closing the distance between them.
He doesn't need any more encouragement. Willas cups her face with one hand, the other sliding around her waist as he pulls her in for a kiss. It is slow and deliberate at first, but quickly grows more intense, their mouths moving hungrily against each other. She can taste the faint hint of whiskey on his lips, mingling with the lingering taste of alcohol on her own.
Her hands roam over his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles through his shirt. He responds by sliding his fingers under the hem of her top, lifting it over her head and tossing it aside. His touch is electric, sending shivers down her spine as he deftly unhooks her bra and lets it fall to the floor.
"You’re full of surprises," she murmurs, her breath hitching as he kisses down her neck.
"You have no idea," he replies, his voice husky with need.
He pushes her onto the bed, the world around them narrowing to just the two of them. She lands on her back, looking up at him with a mixture of desire and haziness, the room spinning slightly around her. Willas hovers above her, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of her bare skin. He leans down, capturing her lips in another searing kiss, his hands exploring her body with a desperate urgency. She arches into his touch, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulls him closer.
Their kisses grow more frantic, each movement a testament to their mutual need. He trails his lips down her collarbone, pausing to nip at the sensitive skin, eliciting a gasp from her. His hands slide lower, brushing against her waist, before moving to undo the button of her jeans.
She’s caged between his strong arms, with nowhere to move. For a fleeting moment, the sensation is thrilling. But then, as Willas's hands slide lower, the room spins faster, and the walls seem to close in. Her breath catches in her throat, and she’s suddenly transported back to that night in school with Jason Lannister, his oppressive presence, the helplessness, the terror.
A cold sweat breaks out on her skin. The memory floods her mind: Jason's hands on her, her desperate attempts to push him away, the fear that froze her limbs. The room spins more violently now, and the warmth of Willas's body becomes suffocating.
"Stop," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the pounding in her ears.
Willas doesn't hear her, his kisses growing more insistent. The panic rises in her chest, making it hard to breathe.
"Stop," she says again, louder this time, but it still feels like she’s shouting underwater.
Her heart races, and her vision blurs. She tries to push him away, her hands trembling. "Willas, stop," she says more firmly, her voice cracking.
This time, he hears her. He immediately pulls back, his eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle but edged with worry.
She shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I can't... I can't do this. I'm sorry."
He moves away quickly, giving her space. "Hey, it’s okay. It's okay," he reassures her, his tone soft and understanding. He sits beside her, not touching, giving her the room she needs.
She sits up, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. The room still feels like it's spinning, and her thoughts are a jumbled mess. Willas watches her with genuine concern, not pushing, just waiting.
After a few moments, he reaches for her discarded top and hands it to her along with her bra. "Here, put this on. Take your time."
"I'm so sorry," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Don’t apologize," he says softly. “You’re good, just breathe. You’re fine.”
She nods, focusing on her breathing, trying to regain control. The panic begins to ebb, replaced by a shaky calm. Willas stays beside her, offering quiet support.
"Thank you," she finally manages to say, looking at him with gratitude and a lingering hint of embarrassment.
"Anytime," he replies with a gentle smile. "Do you want me to call someone?”
“No, I… I think I’m gonna just… go.”
“Let me help you.”
“It’s okay. Can you just… I need a moment, if that’s okay. I’m so sorry if I ruined tonight for you.”
“You’re alright. I don’t feel good letting you go off alone like this though.”
“It’s okay. Thank you.”
She steps out of the house, the cool night air hitting her like a splash of cold water. The noise of the party fades behind her, replaced by the quieter sounds of the street. Scattered red cups and empty beer bottles litter the front yard, remnants of a night that feels distant and surreal now. A figure lies passed out on the lawn, oblivious to the world as others continue to mill about inside.
She walks to the corner of the pavement, her steps slow and unsteady. The streetlight above her makes the world feel too bright and too stark. She sits down, her knees drawn up to her chest, and tries to steady her breathing. The cool concrete is a small comfort, grounding her as she struggles to calm her racing heart.
With trembling hands, she pulls out her phone and dials Aemond’s number. The ringing seems to echo in her ears, each tone stretching into what feels like an eternity. Finally, the call connects, and she hears the distant, muffled sound of conversation.
“Aemond,” she says, her voice cracking and barely more than a whisper. “I—I need you. I’m… I’m outside Margaery Tyrell’s party.”
There’s a brief pause on the line. She hears the faint hum of a cheerful woman’s voice, laughter floating in the background. A pang of guilt hits her hard. She feels like an intruder, her mind racing as she realizes she might be interrupting something important.
“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, her voice breaking. “I—I’m really sorry for disturbing you. I didn’t mean to interrupt… whoever you're with. I just— I’m so scared. Can you… can you come get me? Please?”
Her breathing comes in ragged bursts, her words tumbling out in a breathless, almost incoherent rush. The panic clawing at her chest makes it hard to focus, and the alcohol hasn’t worn off one bit.
“Wylde?” Aemond’s voice is suddenly urgent, cutting through her frantic apologies. There’s a concern in his tone that makes her stomach clench. Don’t move. I’ll be there soon. Just breathe, okay?”
She struggles to calm her racing heart, her breaths coming in short, uneven gasps. “I’m so sorry,” she repeats, her voice trembling with desperation. “I’m really sorry… I just… I can’t… One minute we were kissing and the next I’m crying, I can't breathe...I-”
“Wylde, listen to me,” Aemond says firmly, but gently. “It’s okay. I’m on my way. Just stay where you are. I need you to breathe and stay calm. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
The call ends abruptly, and she is left in the cold night air, clutching her phone with shaking hands. Her breaths come out in shaky, uneven puffs as she tries to focus on Aemond’s calming words. The street feels both stark and surreal, the shadows around her stretching long and foreboding. She pulls her jacket tighter around her, trying to find comfort in its warmth while waiting for him to arrive.
As they arrive at his apartment, the familiar rumble of the motorbike fades as he turns the keys. Aemond helps her off the bike with a gentle but firm hand, guiding her carefully up the stairs and into his apartment. The door swings open to reveal a cozy space, bathed in the dim, warm glow of a few scattered lamps.
He holds onto her with one hand, using his free hand for everything else. Her head rests under his chin, and she can’t help but nuzzle herself into his neck and make herself at home as his warmth pervades her dulled senses.
He leads her inside and guides her to the bathroom. With a tender touch, he helps her sit on the edge of the tub. The gentle hum of the apartment and the soft rustling of his movements are a soothing backdrop to her foggy consciousness. He rummages through a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of water and painkillers.
“Here,” he says softly, handing her the water and pills. “You should take these. They’ll help with the headache.”
She nods weakly, managing to swallow the medication with a few sips of water. Her head feels heavy, and her thoughts are a jumbled mess, but the care in his voice and his steady presence offer a small measure of relief.
Aemond helps her to her feet and guides her to the bedroom. The room is dim, the only light coming from a small bedside lamp. He pulls out a clean pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts from a drawer. Gently, he helps her out of her clothes, the fabric of her dress feeling foreign against her skin as it’s removed. He helps her into the comfortable shorts and oversized t-shirt, the soft material a welcome contrast to the night’s chaos.
As he tucks her into bed, pulling the sheets up around her, he is both careful and attentive. She shifts under the covers, trying to get comfortable, but her eyes are heavy and her body feels weighed down by the evening’s events. She feels his warm lips on her forehead once more, and she reaches out to hold onto his wrist before he goes away.
“Stay. Please.” she murmurs, her voice barely audible as she begs.
Aemond’s gaze softens. “I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures her, settling down on the edge of the bed. He sits there for a moment, his hand gently stroking her hair, the motion soothing and familiar.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice wavering slightly. “I’m sorry for all this.”
She hears the faint ticking of a clock as her heartbeat calms down. The rustling of sheets as Aemond adjusts himself to join her. The warm golden glow of the bedside lamp. The warmth of her hand in his under the sheets. The feel of his thumb gently moving over her knuckles. The softness of his hands as he brushes off stray hairs off her face. The strength of it as he cradles her head like it’d break if he pressed further.
Aemond wakes in the middle of the night, his hand instinctively reaching out to the empty space beside him. The cool, undisturbed sheets where her warmth should be jolt him fully awake, a sudden surge of concern piercing through the remnants of his sleep. He sits up quickly, the room around him still cloaked in the deep shadows of night, and listens intently. The faint glow emanating from the kitchen draws his attention, a small beacon in the darkness.
He slips out of bed, his bare feet silent against the floor as he pads softly toward the light. Each step feels measured and deliberate, his senses heightened in the quiet stillness of the early morning. The corridor seems longer than usual, the dim light at the end creating an almost surreal atmosphere, as if he’s moving through a dream.
As he approaches the kitchen, the scene gradually comes into focus. She’s sitting at the counter, bathed in the soft, warm glow of the single dim yellow light over the countertop. The rest of the kitchen is enveloped in darkness, the contrast making her appear almost ethereal. Her presence is both comforting and concerning.
She’s wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of his shorts, her bare feet resting on the lower rung of the counter-height stool. The loose fabric drapes over her frame in a way that makes her look even smaller and more vulnerable. Her posture is slightly hunched, and she’s absently stirring the contents of a mug, the soft clinking of the spoon against the ceramic creating a gentle, rhythmic sound that fills the otherwise silent space.
He takes a moment to observe her, his heart aching at the sight. Her hair falls messily around her face, and her nose looks flared. She seems lost in thought, her eyes focused on the swirling liquid in the mug, as if trying to find answers in its depths. The tension in her shoulders is palpable, and he can see the strain of the night’s events weighing heavily on her.
He doesn’t yet know what’s happened. All he knows is that she’d been in a bad time once more, and it’s one too many times for someone as sensitive as she is. Her eyes are downcast, lost in thought, and she seems miles away, even though she’s right there in front of him.
Aemond watches her for a moment, noticing the way she grips the mug tightly, as if drawing strength from its warmth. Stepping into the light, he moves towards her with a quiet grace, not wanting to startle her. She looks up as he approaches, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and relief. He pulls out a stool beside her and sits down, their knees almost touching, creating an intimate, comforting space amidst the darkness.
“You should be sleeping,” he says softly, concern evident in his voice.
She lets out a small, tired sigh, her fingers tightening around the mug. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everything just… it feels too much.”
They sit in silence for a while, the atmosphere thick with unspoken emotions. She slowly sips from the mug—warm milk, he notices. His eyes wander to the honey bottle at the far end of the counter, suggesting she had been stirring it in when he came in. The soft clinking of the spoon against the mug fades into the background, replaced by the quiet, steady rhythm of their breathing.
His hand rests gently on her thigh, his fingers making slow, soothing movements that help to calm her. She feels the warmth and comfort of his touch, and instinctively, she settles her hand over his, drawing strength from the simple contact. Time seems to slow down, and they remain like this for a while, enveloped in the stillness of the moment.
He looks at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes, and he remembers the first time he realized he had some sort of feelings for her - fleeting, if not definitive. Back in King's Landing, in her bedroom, he had been so close to her that he’d had half a mind to kiss her. But she had been so troubled, and he knew from seeing Aegon and Helaena, that no good comes from entering into anything when you're not quite yourself.
He thought he would ask her out when she came to Oldtown, imagining a fresh start in a new place. But by then, the distance had played its part.
His feelings, once intense in the way that only teenage introverts could experience, had started to dissolve, replaced by the new experiences and people that college inevitably brings into one's life. And then there was Alys. With Alys, there was no power play or domination that one would expect from a relationship with the age gap that they have - just two people who understood each other's interests and passions deeply, like no one else in their lives did. They were kindred spirits, and being with her felt easy and right. Alys was good to him, and their relationship felt solid and mature - regardless of how shaky the existence of it would seem to everyone around him.
Yet, as he sits here with her, he takes in her soft face, framed by her hair and lit up by the golden dim light. It is then that he realizes that his feelings - no matter how mild, how fleeting - never completely went away.
Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice gentle and full of concern. “What happened?” he asks, his eyes searching hers for answers.
“I was at the party, and Will Tyrell and I were flirting.” His hand tightens over the smooth expanse of the skin of her thigh. “I’d had like… ten rounds of beer or something. One thing led to another and next thing I know, we’re making out in an empty room and…” She exhales with more effort than is required for her to live, and he encourages her to go on. “It just took me back to Jason Lannister for a moment and I started panicking. Couldn’t breathe for a moment there, really.”
“Hm.”
She leans her head down to be eye level with him, and she takes his hand in hers before she lets out a playful smile. “You’re like… my knight in a black motorcycle now, you know? Twice now I’ve had weird things happen to me at a party, and you've come to the rescue both times.”
“It’s not funny,” he says. He’d genuinely felt his heart stop when he heard her panicked voice over the phone at Alys’ house.
“It’s not. Sorry, I’m just grateful for you.”
Her hand leaves his to cradle his cheek. She’s the one who was found reeking of alcohol and vomit, and somehow he’s the one that needs comforting. “You’re always so serious, hm? So serious…” He grunts in response.
“Thank you. For being with me.”
He’s never been good with compliments, and this is a heavy one that he cannot wrap his mind around. He lets it wash over him like a calm evening breeze.
When her mug is empty and they come back to his bed, neither of them are in the right mindspace to wonder about how easily intimacy comes to them.
Instead, she chooses to watch him, his silhouette. She’s still tired and hazy from the alcohol, and given the moment they’ve just had and the complete darkness of his bedroom, she can’t help but say it.
“You’re pretty.”
He doesn’t react, so she feels emboldened enough to continue. “You have such pretty eyes too. I always thought about it, but you always hated talking about your eyes so I never quite bothered with telling you.”
“Hm.”
Her quiet knight on a black motorcycle.
How the fuck is she supposed to get over him now?
She wakes slowly, the world coming into focus as the soft light of morning filters through the blinds. She feels the warmth of Aemond’s chest against her back, his arm draped loosely around her waist. There’s a quiet comfort in the way they’re entangled, as if this is exactly where she’s meant to be. She’s still wearing his clothes - his t-shirt and shorts - and somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Her gaze drifts over to the bedside table, and she spots his reading glasses resting on top of a copy of Ten Thousand Ships. She thinks about how she never wants to see a table without his glasses again.
The thought lingers, surprising her with its intensity. She tries not to move, not wanting to break the spell of the moment, and instead lets her eyes take in the little details around the room.
The leather jacket hanging neatly on a hook behind the door catches her attention, standing out in what she could only describe as clinical cleanliness. The pale walls, the simplicity of the space - it’s all so Aemond. Everything is meticulously arranged, no clutter in sight, just like him. Every little thing in this room reflects who he is, and she finds herself memorizing it all, as if trying to hold onto this feeling for as long as she can.
Before her thoughts can go further, she hears him stir behind her, his voice low and groggy. “Morning,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the back of her neck.
She turns her head slightly, enough to catch a glimpse of him. “Morning,” she replies softly, a small smile playing on her lips.
Aemond tightens his arm around her waist, pulling her just a little closer, and she feels her heart swell with a warmth that she isn’t ready to let go of. This, right here, feels like everything she didn’t know she needed.
She shifts slightly in his arms, just enough to face him. There’s a comfortable silence between them, one that feels both familiar and new. She traces lazy circles on the back of his hand with her finger, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.
“This is nice.” she says with a playful grin, trying to keep things light despite the weight in her chest. “Girlfriend behavior. Waking up in your bed, wearing your clothes… I’m basically halfway there.”
Aemond raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “Is that so? You’re already planning our future together, then?”
She laughs softly, shaking her head. “We’d probably spend our weekends at bookstores and museums. You’d drag me to some obscure historical sites, and I’d make you try every new coffee shop in town while I move around taking photos.”
“Sounds terrible,” he deadpans, though the warmth in his eyes betrays him.
“Absolutely dreadful, the most boring couple ever.” She agrees, her tone just as teasing. “But, hey, I’d get to borrow your shirts all the time, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”
Aemond smirks, but his expression softens as he looks at her. “Are you alright?” His voice is gentle, laced with concern.
She nods, trying to brush it off with a smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He doesn’t let it go, though, his thumb brushing lightly against her side. “Really?”
Everywhere he touches, her heart seems to follow. It skips a beat at the sincerity in his eyes, and she feels the familiar tug of emotions she’s not quite ready to name. “I promise, Aemond. I’m fine.”
He studies her for a moment longer before finally nodding, though the worry doesn’t entirely leave his face. “Hm.”
She can’t help but laugh at his persistence, leaning in to kiss his cheek lightly. “I’m alright, I swear.”
She presses a hand to her forehead, feeling the dull ache settle behind her eyes. “I’ve got a slight headache,” she admits, her voice a little groggy. “And I could really use some food.”
Aemond nods, concern flickering across his face. “I’ll make us breakfast.”
They both slide out of bed, and she follows him to the bathroom where they keep spare toothbrushes for each other. It’s a simple, unspoken thing - having brushes at each other’s places because they often sleep over - but this is the first time she’s woken up with his arms around her. As she brushes her teeth beside him, the domesticity of it all makes her blush. It feels so natural, so easy, and yet there’s something about it that sends her heart racing.
After rinsing her mouth, she drinks a glass of water to ease the remnants of her headache before heading to the kitchen. She takes her usual place on one of the bar stools behind the counter, turning on the coffee machine. The sound of it humming to life is oddly soothing, and she watches as Aemond walks in, already rolling up the sleeves of his black sweatshirt to get started.
He pulls out the ingredients, his movements efficient and practiced. Wylde offers to help, and he nods her over without hesitation. As she steps closer, he lifts a small slice of cut avocado to her lips, eyes not moving away from the chopping board - habitual, it all seems habitual. She grunts, leaning in to eat it straight from his hand before taking over with slicing the bread.
They work together in comfortable silence, moving around each other with the ease of familiarity. Aemond cooks the eggs while she toasts the sourdough, and before long, they’re sitting at the counter with plates of food in front of them. The avocado is perfectly creamy, the eggs just the right amount of runny, the toast crisp and warm and her coffee is just right.
Then she remembers he found her a right mess last night, and he’s simply being nice to a friend who had a bad night.
She wonders if the girl he’s hiding from her is perfect for him. She wonders if she ever embarasses herself in front of him like she clearly did last night. She wonders if he’s made her toast. She wonders if she’s woken up to the warmth of his lean arms wrapped around her waist. She wonders-
“What’s on your mind?”
She nods from side to side, a reassuring smile that is convincing enough that he doesn’t push further.
They eat in peaceful silence, exchanging small smiles as they enjoy the meal. It’s a quiet moment, but there’s a warmth in it that neither of them can ignore. When they’re done, they clear the dishes together, and for a brief moment, she lets herself imagine that this is what it could be like - easy and comfortable.
She wanted to catch him by the shoulders. She wanted to hug him till it hurt and her feet left the ground. She wanted to tuck her head into his neck and breathe in the smell of him, bask in the warmth of him.
Choose me, choose me, choose me, choose-
She wants him.
Gods.
She says thank you and leaves instead.
The next few weeks pass in a series of moments - each one small and seemingly insignificant, yet all of them add up to something much larger in her heart. It’s as if the universe has conspired to put Aemond in her path at every turn, and with each encounter, she finds herself falling deeper into feelings she’s not quite ready to name.
In the university hallways, she always spots him first. He’s usually leaning against the wall, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a book he seems completely absorbed in. The early morning light filters through the tall windows, casting a golden hue over him. She notices the way his hair catches the light, the soft strands glinting silver against the dark fabric of his jacket. He looks so focused, so utterly engrossed in whatever he’s reading, that she almost doesn’t want to interrupt. But then he glances up, meeting her eyes, and a small, rare smile pulls at his lips.
“Morning,” he says, his voice low and smooth.
“Morning,” she replies, feeling her own smile spreading as she walks over.
The rest of their walk is silent until their hands reach out to graze at each other for just a few moments before they go their separate ways.
A few days later, she finds herself in the library, hunting down a book for one of her Foundation of Art in Essos assignments. The place is quiet, the scent of old paper and ink filling the air, and she’s completely lost in the stacks when she hears a familiar voice.
“Looking for something?”
She turns to find Aemond standing just a few feet away, a small stack of books in his arms. His eyes flicker to the title in her hand, and she swears she sees a hint of amusement in them.
“Yeah, just…this one,” she says, holding up the book she’s just found.
He nods, stepping closer. “That’s a good one. You might also want to check out the one by Mallister - it gives a different perspective.”
She takes his word and joins him at his table. She lets herself blush and be bothered by their feet touching under the table occasionally.
In their one shared class, she finds herself sneaking glances at him more often than she’d like to admit. Aemond always sits a few rows ahead, his attention fixed on the professor. She watches the way he takes notes, his handwriting neat and precise, and the way he occasionally pushes his hair back when it falls into his eyes. It’s such a small thing, but it makes her smile every time.
One day, he catches her looking. Instead of brushing it off or ignoring her, he turns slightly in his seat and raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. She feels her cheeks heat up, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she raises her own eyebrow in response, a silent dare.
After class, they walk together, discussing the lecture and the points that stood out to them. Aemond’s insights are sharp and thoughtful, and she finds herself hanging on to every word he says. There’s something about the way he sees the world - so different from anyone else - that fascinates her.
Then again, he could tell her that the dragons have come back to life - and she’d find a way to believe that too.
Cafe Moonbloom - her favorite cafe at Oldtown - becomes another place where their paths cross. It’s a cozy spot, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and soft, ambient music. She often comes here to study or relax, and more often than not, Aemond shows up too, as if drawn by the same comforting atmosphere.
One afternoon, she’s sitting at a corner table, sipping her usual lavender latte, when he walks in. He spots her immediately, and after ordering his drink, he joins her at the table without hesitation.
She smiles. Seems it’s all she’s capable of doing in his presence these days.
They sit in comfortable silence for a while, each of them absorbed in their own work. But every now and then, she finds herself looking up, catching glimpses of him as he reads or types on his laptop.
At one point, he reaches across the table to take a sip of her drink, curiosity in his eyes. She lets him, laughing softly when he makes a face at the taste.
“Not a fan?” she teases.
“Too floral,” he replies, but there’s a warmth in his voice that makes her heart skip a beat.
“You say that each time.”
“That’s it,” she declares, looking over at Aemond, who’s deep into his notes. “We need a break. A real break.”
Aemond glances up, raising an eyebrow. They’re sitting in her flat, surrounded by textbooks and empty coffee cups. She closes her laptop with a decisive snap. “A break,” she repeats, leaning back against the couch and stretching her arms above her head. “We’ve been drowning in work for weeks. Let’s take a day off tomorrow and just… see the city. No papers, no studying. I can’t anymore.”
He considers her words for a moment, then slowly nods, a small smile forming on his lips. “Alright.”
When tomorrow comes, they’re on his motorbike - and she has no idea what he has planned.
The decision is made in a heartbeat. Aemond’s nod is all the confirmation she needs, and by morning, they’re zipping through the streets on his motorbike. The city blurs around them as the wind whips through her hair, the sound of the engine filling her ears. She clings to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, trusting him completely as they speed through the early morning light.
They weave through the streets, bypassing the usual morning traffic as the city slowly begins to wake up. The cool morning air carries the scent of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee, mingling with the salty tang of the nearby river. Her excitement only grows as they approach the Honeywine, the river shimmering under the pale sunlight.
Finally, Aemond guides the bike down a quiet lane and comes to a stop near the edge of the river. She can see the Quill and Tankard ahead—a tall, timbered building leaning slightly southward, the dark wood exterior glowing in the morning light. The pub is nestled on an island in the middle of the Honeywine, connected to the rest of the city by an old plank bridge.
Aemond parks Vhagar, and they both dismount. She removes her helmet, her hair tousled and windswept, and follows Aemond as he leads the way to the bridge. The wooden planks creak slightly underfoot, adding to the charm of the place. She glances over the side, watching the water ripple below, the sound of the river soothing after their wild ride.
“You brought me to the Quill and Tankard?” she asks, her voice filled with pleasant surprise as they reach the other side of the bridge, her fingers brushing against his arm.
Aemond glances at her with a small, knowing smile. “Good spot to start,” he replies.
As they step inside, the warmth of the pub wraps around them like a cozy embrace. The common room is inviting, with wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling and sunlight filtering through the tall, narrow windows. The smell of bacon, eggs, and freshly baked bread wafts through the air, making her stomach growl in anticipation.
They find a table near the window, the perfect spot to enjoy the view of the river and the old apple trees outside. Aemond shrugs off his leather jacket, draping it over the back of his chair, his movements casual but undeniably graceful. She follows suit, but can’t help but notice how effortlessly he commands the space around him.
When their breakfast arrives - thick slices of sourdough toast topped with peanut butter, peaches, and pomegranate, alongside a pot of rich, dark coffee—she sighs in contentment, her eyes sparkling as she glances at Aemond. “This is perfect,” she says, her voice soft and sincere.
He nods, the corners of his lips lifting into a faint smile as he takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m glad,” he replies, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than necessary. She thinks her heart actually skips a beat.
They eat slowly, savoring the food and the easy conversation that flows between them. Every now and then, their knees brush under the table, sending a little thrill through her that she tries to ignore, though the faint flush on her cheeks might give her away. Aemond seems to notice, a small, teasing smile playing at his lips whenever their eyes meet.
After they finish, they linger for a while longer, sipping the last of their coffee and enjoying the calm, the comfortable silence between them punctuated by the occasional shared glance and knowing smile. When it’s finally time to leave, she feels a reluctant tug in her chest. She doesn’t want the morning to end, but she knows they have the whole day ahead of them.
As they cross the old plank bridge again, she reaches out and takes Aemond’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. His skin is warm against hers, and she can’t help but notice how naturally their fingers intertwine. He glances at her, his expression softening as he squeezes back.
“Where to next?” she asks, her voice carrying a playful lilt as she tilts her head, her eyes searching for a clue.
Aemond smirks, his eye glinting with the hint of another surprise. “You’ll see,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.
When they finally arrive at the Starry Sept, she hops off the bike, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the towering structure before them. The sept stands like a sentinel over the city, its seven-pointed star gleaming in the sunlight.
“This is incredible,” she breathes, her excitement palpable as she hurries ahead, eager to explore. She glances back at Aemond, who trails behind with a small smile on his lips, his phone in hand as he quietly captures the moment—the soaring architecture, the play of light and shadow, and her own vibrant enthusiasm as she moves from one point of interest to the next.
She leads the way, her steps light as she marvels at the intricately carved statues and the colorful stained-glass windows that adorn the sept. Every now and then, she turns to share her excitement with him, her voice animated as she points out something new—a particularly beautiful mosaic, a hidden alcove, the way the sunlight pours through the windows, casting rainbows on the stone floor.
Aemond, as usual, is quieter, but she can see the way his gaze softens whenever he looks at her, how he pauses to take photos not just of the sept but of her too, capturing the way her eyes light up with each discovery. There’s something in his expression, a quiet contentment that makes her heart flutter whenever their eyes meet.
They wander deeper into the sept, through narrow corridors that twist and turn like a labyrinth, the ancient stones cool under their fingertips. She is in awe of the place, her footsteps echoing in the silence as they venture further inside.
When they reach a section that is clearly marked as restricted, she hesitates, looking at him with a raised brow. “Are we allowed in there?” she asks, a mix of curiosity and caution in her voice.
Aemond’s response is a single word, spoken with quiet confidence. “Otto.”
She laughs softly, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor. “Of course. Should’ve guessed.”
With a smirk, he pushes open the heavy wooden door, leading them into a part of the sept that few ever see. The air here is different, almost sacred, and she feels a shiver of reverence as her fingers brush against the rough stone walls.
At one point, her foot catches on an uneven flagstone, and she stumbles, a startled gasp escaping her lips as she feels herself begin to fall. The world around her seems to tilt, the ancient stones rushing up to meet her, but before she can even process what’s happening, Aemond is there. He moves with a speed and grace that never ceases to amaze her, his strong arms enveloping her in a firm, protective embrace.
His hands settle on her waist, fingers splayed wide as if to shield her from the world itself. The sudden, intimate contact sends a jolt of electricity through her, making her pulse quicken and her breath hitch in her throat. For a moment, they are frozen like that, their bodies pressed close together, and all she can hear is the rapid pounding of her own heart.
Aemond’s chest is solid against her back, the warmth of his body seeping into hers, calming and steadying yet igniting something deep within her. His breath is warm and steady, ghosting across her ear in a way that sends shivers down her spine. She’s hyper-aware of every point of contact—the way his fingertips press gently but possessively into her sides, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the subtle scent of leather and pine that clings to him.
She turns in his arms and for a moment, she thinks he might kiss her. The thought is dizzying, and she’s caught between hope and fear, between wanting to close her eyes and lean in, and wanting to pull back before everything changes. But then, almost as quickly as it began, the moment shifts. He blinks, the intensity in his gaze softening just a fraction, and she sees the flicker of restraint, the conscious decision as he takes a step back, putting a small but significant distance between them.
The loss of his warmth is immediate, almost jarring, and she feels the absence of his touch keenly, like a missing piece she hadn’t realized she was holding on to. He’s still close, still within reach, but the spell between them has broken, the moment passed, leaving behind a lingering sense of what might have been.
She gives him a small, grateful smile, though it feels a bit shaky, her heart still pounding in her chest. “Thanks,” she murmurs, her voice quieter than she intends, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile understanding they’ve just shared.
He nods, his lips curving into a faint smile, though there’s something in his expression that she can’t quite read, something that leaves her wondering if he’s as affected by the moment as she is. His hand drops from her waist, but not before his fingers trail lightly down her arm, a touch so fleeting it’s almost like an afterthought, yet it leaves a trail of fire in its wake.
Eventually, they reach a small, secluded courtyard, open to the sky and bathed in golden light. She lets out a soft sigh as she looks around, her eyes wide with wonder.
Something has shifted. This much they both know.
The ride back to her flat is quiet.
They’ve spent the entire day together, yet there’s a weight in the air between them, something that hangs in the silence. The Starry Sept, the Quill and Tankard, the moments that lingered just a little too long - all of it circles in her mind, and she wonders if he’s thinking about it too.
She holds onto him just a little tighter.
As they near her apartment, she breaks the silence with a light-hearted comment. “You know, if someone told me a month ago that I’d be exploring the Starry Sept with you, sneaking into restricted areas like we’re in some spy movie, I’d have laughed them off.”
Aemond chuckles softly, the sound almost drowned out by the bike’s engine. “Guess you’re more adventurous than you thought.”
She grins, resting her chin on his shoulder as she speaks into his ear. “Or maybe you’re just a bad influence. You and your… Otto connections.”
He smirks, though she can’t see it through his helmet. “I prefer ‘resourceful.’”
She laughs, a light, musical sound that makes his chest tighten in a way he can’t quite explain. “Resourceful, huh? I’ll keep that in mind the next time I need to get into a restricted section of the library.”
He shakes his head, amused. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re too serious,” she teases, nudging him gently with her knee. “You need to loosen up, Aemond. Enjoy life a little.”
“I enjoy life just fine,” he counters, though there’s a trace of defensiveness in his tone.
“Oh, really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you could use a bit more fun.” She tilts her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Maybe that’s why we get along so well. I bring the fun, you bring the… brooding?”
“I do not brood,” he says, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
She raises an eyebrow. “You totally brood. It’s your thing. That, and being all mysterious and - ”
“And what?” he interrupts, genuinely curious now.
She pauses, the words hanging in the air between them as they finally pull up to her building. He turns off the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening. Slowly, she slips off her helmet, her hair tumbling down around her shoulders as she considers her next words carefully.
“And… thoughtful,” she finally says, her voice softer, more serious now. “You notice things about people. You’re observant, and you care. Even if you don’t always show it.”
Aemond is quiet for a moment, processing her words. He steps off the bike, standing close to her as she sits on the seat, their proximity making her heart race. His voice is low, almost vulnerable.
“More than you might think.”
There’s a moment of silence as they look at each other, the air between them thick. She bites her lip, her usual playfulness replaced by something deeper, more intense. “I know,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
Aemond takes a step closer, his hands resting on either side of the bike, his body inches from hers. “You do?” he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
She nods, her eyes searching his, looking for the truth in his words. “Yeah. I do.”
Aemond’s eyes hold hers for a long moment, the violet of his iris darkening as his gaze drops to her lips, then back to her eyes. She can see the conflict there, the way he’s holding himself back, the tension in the air between them charged with tension every passing second.
She inhales deeply, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the heat spreading through her body. Her fingers flex slightly, still gripping the edge of the seat, a lifeline to steady herself as she teeters on the edge of something she’s been avoiding for far too long.
He shifts closer, the space between them shrinking to almost nothing. His hands hover just above her thighs, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin fabric of her dress. She can feel the roughness of his breath against her skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he fights the same battle she is.
Pull him in, or let him pull away.
And then he’s moving, slow, deliberate, one hand lifting to trace the line of her jaw. His thumb brushes over her bottom lip, the contact so light it sends a shiver down her spine. She parts her lips slightly, instinctively, her breath catching in her throat.
Aemond watches her, his gaze intent, burning, like he’s committing every detail to memory. Her flushed cheeks, the way her lashes flutter as she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, the way her breath hitches as his thumb drags down, grazing her chin.
She’s the one who leans in first, just enough for their noses to brush, for his breath to mingle with hers. “Aemond…” she murmurs, barely a whisper, a plea and a question all at once.
He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, his hand slides to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he closes the distance between them. His lips meet hers in a kiss that starts slow, tentative, like he’s testing the waters, unsure of how far she’ll let him go.
But she’s not holding back, not now. Her hands move to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket as she pulls him closer, her lips parting to deepen the kiss. He responds in kind, a low sound escaping from the back of his throat as he presses against her, the kiss turning heated, urgent.
It’s not a gentle kiss, not after all the tension, the words, the stolen glances. It’s everything they’ve been holding back, all the frustration, the longing, the need crashing together in a tangle of lips and tongues and breathless gasps.
She shifts on the bike, her knees brushing against his thighs as she pulls him closer, needing more of him, needing to feel him everywhere. His hands slide to her waist, fingers digging in as he lifts her slightly, positioning her so she’s sitting on the very edge of the seat, her legs parting to make room for him.
Aemond steps between her thighs, his body pressing into hers, the kiss deepening as he takes control, his mouth claiming hers with a hunger that leaves her dizzy. Her hands slide up to his shoulders, gripping tight, as if she’s afraid he might pull away, that this might be a dream she’ll wake up from.
But he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he presses closer, his hands roaming over her back, her sides, mapping out every curve, every inch of her that he’s been dreaming of touching. His mouth moves against hers with a desperation that matches her own, a need to make up for all the lost time, all the moments they could have had but didn’t.
She tilts her head back slightly, giving him better access as his lips move to her jaw, then down to her neck. He kisses a line down to the hollow of her throat, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her gasp, her nails digging into his clothed shoulders.
“Aemond,” she breathes out, her voice shaky, needy.
He pulls back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark, intense, filled with something she’s never seen before. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his voice rough, barely controlled. “Tell me, and I will.”
“I thought you were seeing someone.”
“Tell me to stop.” The sentence holds no space for argument, almost as though he knows for certain that she wouldn’t stop him.
She couldn’t even if she wanted to.
Instead, she shakes her head, her fingers curling around the nape of his neck as she pulls him back to her, her lips finding his in a kiss that says everything she can’t put into words. She does not want to think, she simply wants to be.
The world falls away. There’s no more fear, no more doubt, no more holding back. It’s just them, tangled together in a mess of heated skin, breathless kisses, and a desperate need for more.
Time seems to slow down and speed up all at once, the kiss stretching on for what feels like an eternity and yet not nearly long enough. She feels like she’s drowning in him, in the way he tastes, the way he feels pressed against her, the way his hands hold her like she’s something precious, something he’s afraid to lose.
And when they finally pull apart, gasping for air, their foreheads resting together, their breaths mingling in the small space between them, she realizes that this - whatever this is - was inevitable. They were always going to end up here, at this moment, with everything they’ve been holding back finally spilling over.
The streetlamp glows, the light flickering over them. The air is cool and crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of rain, though the clouds have long since parted to reveal a sky dotted with stars. They hear the occasional whoosh of a car passing on a nearby street, tires hissing against the damp pavement, the sound growing louder before fading into the distance. Somewhere nearby, a dog barks once, twice, before falling silent, leaving the night to its quiet.
The scent of the city surrounds them - a mix of wet asphalt, a hint of exhaust, and the faint, lingering aroma of coffee from the cafe on the corner. But there’s something else too, something she only just notices now - the subtle, clean scent of Aemond’s cologne, mingling with the smell of leather and the faintest hint of smoke, clinging to his clothes and skin. It’s comforting, grounding her in this moment, making it feel all the more real.
The soft thud of her heart is almost louder than the ambient noises around them, each beat echoing in her ears as she takes in the scene - the way Aemond’s hair catches the light, the way his eyes seem to reflect the stars above them, the way his breath mingles with hers in the small space between them.
You’re seeing someone else, she had said. He hadn’t disagreed.
She wants to reach out, to shake his shoulders, to demand that he tell her what this all means. She wants him to choose her, to see her in the way she sees him - more than just a fleeting moment, more than just this night. The urge is so strong it almost frightens her, this need to make him say it, to make him admit what they both know is simmering between them. But she holds back. She swallows the words before they can form, feeling them burn in her throat, a quiet ache that spreads through her chest.
She could ask him, right now, what this means for them, whether this is something real or just another moment that will fade with the dawn. But the fear of his answer, or worse, his silence, keeps her rooted in place. The thought of hearing him say that this is nothing, that they are nothing, is more than she can bear. So she says nothing.
Instead, she stays silent, feeling the weight of a barrier that she both wants to break and keep intact. Because asking him, forcing him to confront whatever this is, might ruin it. Might turn this into something complicated, something messy.
She’s not sure she’s ready for that. Not yet.
She decides, in that moment, that she would rather have him like this - halfway, uncertain, but here - than risk losing him entirely. So she bites her tongue, swallows her fear, and chooses to stay in the safety of their unspoken connection. It’s easier this way, she tells herself. Easier to take what he’s willing to give and leave the rest unspoken, untouched.
“This is real.” He nods.
She leans into the warmth of him, feeling the press of his hand on her thigh, the steady beat of his heart against her own, and lets herself have this.
For now, it’s enough.
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bestfriend!Ari Levinson x naive!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: HEAVY SOMNO, dark!Ari, smutt, daddy!kink, non-con, 18+ only, minors dni.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your best friend, Ari, wants to fuck you. And he doesn’t care if you’re awake or asleep...
𝐀/𝐍: SUPER DARK. Please, if you don’t like, don’t read! The whole thing is basically somno, and this is a dark fic! Please beware of that. Apart from that, enjoy! Also, this is completely unedited lol please be kind.
“Ow! Ari! I told you; my boyfriend won’t like it if you do that!”
“What? This?”
Ari plants his lips against the nape of your bare neck, giving the sensitive skin a hearty suck. His fingers dance down your body, digging into your ribs and making you giggle and squirm on top of him.
“Stop! It hurts!”
“Oh yeah? Why are you laughing, then?” He tickles you harder, holding you tightly in his arms lest you try to escape. You’re too busy laughing your head off to notice his lips press against your skin once more, his tongue lathering at the hickey he’s just given you. And then he sucks again, so hard that your laughter is cut short and you gasp, feeling like your sensitive skin is going to break as he continues to suction it.
“Nooo, Ari, please! Steve won’t like that! He’ll get the wrong idea!”
Ari draws back and smirks, “Please. We’ve been best friends longer than you’ve been going out with Steve. And best friends are allowed to cuddle every now and then, I’m sure your tool of a boyfriend will understand that.”
“Hey! Don’t call him a tool!” You smack Ari on the chest but all he does is grab both your wrists with one hand, his other one snaking down to tickle you some more. You scream and laugh, trying to break free but he’s way too strong as he pins you down on the sofa, climbing on top of you and continuing to attack your ribs with his fingers.
Ari had been your best friend for years – ever since high school, to be exact. He was big and protective and strong and confident, making you feel safe whenever you were around him. He was also goofy and fun and kind, but he usually reserved those personality traits for when the two of you were alone. Everyone else knew him as Ari Levinson, the football star with huge prospects – the NFL’s newest recruit, in fact – and a man with a dangerous streak in him.
But you knew him as just Ari, the boy you’d grown up with. The one who you’d watched funny movies with till the two of you peed your pants laughing, the one who’d always helped you study for all your tests. The one who you’d shared so many of your firsts with. Your first time on a plane had been with Ari when the two of you had jetted off to Bali (a graduation present from his parents). Your first-time smoking weed had also been with Ari (he’d laughed and assured you that the police were not going to lock you up for smoking a joint).
Even your first kiss had been with Ari. (“Don’t worry, I’m just going to show you how to do it.” Ari had assured you, “No strings attached, baby. I don’t wanna jeopardise our friendship, it’s the most important thing in the world to me.”) And show you he had, and you still remember his soft lips on yours, like a warm pillow working against your mouth. His breathless whispers against you, coaxing you to use your tongue, and his big hands holding you close to him, almost like he never wanted to let you go.
You’d kissed many guys since then, but Ari didn’t know about all of them. He seemed to grow upset and irritated any time you mentioned going on a date with anyone, let alone kissing and making out and all that other stuff. All of which you’d done with Steve, your current boyfriend. In fact, Steve had taken your virginity this past summer – but Ari didn’t have to know that. It had taken him weeks to accept that Steve was your boyfriend, you knew it would take him another year to process that you’d given your virginity to Steve too.
But Ari was just protective, you always reasoned to yourself. And there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, you liked how secure he made you feel and how he was always there for you. How he always dropped everything for you, even with the bazillions of girls who were after him. (Ari, with his rugged good looks, was always popular with the ladies. But being an NFL star boosted his popularity even more – he had supermodels regularly going in and out of his house. You could confirm, you’d run into one or two a few times).
“Hello? You still there?” Ari bounces you in his lap to get your attention. “It’s no fun torturing you when you don’t give me a reaction.”
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
He nudges your nose with his and shoots you his winning smile, the one that makes his blue eyes sparkle. “I’m the one who does the thinking, remember? You just look pretty.”
You blink, “Steve says he likes it when I space out. He wants me to write all my thoughts down so he can turn them into poetry.”
Ari rolls his eyes, “He sounds like a douche.”
You smack his hard chest once more. “He’s not. If you just agreed to meet him once, you’d like him just as much as I do.”
“I doubt it.”
You bat his chest again.
“Ow! Okay, okay, I’d like him! Now can we stop talking about Steve when it’s you and me time?” Ari huffs, giving you a squeeze. “I finally got you all to myself for the weekend and all you want to do is talk about Steve.”
“Aww, I’m sorry, Ari. What do you want to do?”
The two of you end up putting on a movie and cuddling on the couch. It’s raining cats and dogs outside, but the steady pitter-patter of the water droplets against the window creates an oddly calming atmosphere. Inside, you feel toasty warm in Ari’s embrace, the big brunette holding you tightly against his chest as he spoons you and all you can hear is the movie mixed in with the crackling of the fireplace and your best friend’s steady breathing against your neck.
“I always get sleepy when we cuddle.” You yawn, giggling when his lips find your neck again. Cuddling with Ari was always fun – the two of you had been doing it for years. Ari had told you that all best friends cuddle like this, where the two of you are so close that you can feel every part of him. Even his hard crotch as it nestles against your ass, and every few seconds he shuffles or grabs your hips and moves you up and down. But he probably doesn’t realise what he’s doing, or that you can feel him getting… excited. He probably doesn’t mean to get excited anyways.
You sometimes get excited while cuddling with Ari too. Excited down there. But you’re too shy and embarrassed to ever tell him. You’re meant to just be best friends with him, for Godsakes! Nothing more!
“Ari?”
“Mm, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your neck, where his tongue is currently licking over a spot that he’s been sucking for a while now.
“I know you said that all best friends give each other hickeys while cuddling, but I don’t think Steve would like it if he saw these.”
Ari groans, not letting up at all as he continues to suck at the one spot on your neck. In fact, you feel his teeth graze against your sensitive skin and you gasp when he bites down. Not too hard, but enough to make the mark even more prominent. God, you’d need a lot of makeup to cover that up – you knew without even looking at it.
“There you go again, talking about Steve when it’s meant to be us time. Now shh, I’m trying to relax and watch the movie. You should try and do the same.”
You do try, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as you watch the movie play out on the television. The pitter-patter of the rain outside makes you feel even sleepier, so much so that you barely even register it when you feel Ari’s hands slip under your tank top. He did that sometimes, claiming that his hands got cold very easily and he needed the warmth of your bare skin to heat them back up – which was totally understandable. His palms always felt warm against you, however, but you knew that Ari knew best.
“Is this the new bra I got you?”
You yelp when you feel his hands cup your breasts over the material of your bra, giving them a few squeezes that have you involuntarily pressing your thighs together.
“Ari!”
His hands don’t move, instead he squeezes your breasts harder, and your face grows hot as your nipples stiffen, poking through the lace material and straight against his palm.
“Well? Is it?”
“Yes, it is.” You answer, stifling a yawn and deciding you’re too tired to fight him off you. He was just feeling extra touchy – he as like that sometimes. It was purely platonic and didn’t mean a thing. And it’s not like he was feeling you up, he was probably just trying to detect the material of the bra. It was one of the few (about twelve) lingerie sets from Victoria’s Secret that Ari had had delivered to your apartment a few days ago. He was always surprising you with gifts, it was actually very sweet of him.
“Good. I like it when you wear things I bought for you.”
“Mmhmm.” You’re feeling drowsier and drowsier, and it’s so comfy being in Ari’s strong arms as they hold you in place against his chest. Cuddling with Ari really was the best, and it just made you so sleepy…
“Go to sleep, baby.” Ari croons in your ear, giving you another tight squeeze. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
*
Ari watches you drift off in his arms, his boner unbearably hard as he digs it into your ass. Fuck, you had the world’s cutest little bubble butt, and the way it was currently nestled against his dick was making him so fucking horny, it was unreal.
In fact, he was so riled up that everything you did tonight was making him horny. From the way you pranced around your apartment in those tight grey legging that made your ass pop, bending down to pick up God knows what and giving him an eyeful of your backside, making his palms itch to give it a slap or two. He’d gotten away with it in the past, various times while the two of you play-wrestled. And he’d just blame it on the innocent “rough-housing” as he’d smack your ass quickly in succession, loving how you’d squeal and dig your face into his chest in embarrassment. (Or pleasure, because Ari knew you secretly liked it).
And now here you were, cute little you practically unconscious in his arms. Wearing the pretty pink lace bra that he’d bought for you and cuddling up close to his chest. Unknowingly, you rub your butt against his crotch, making him groan in frustration. Goddamit, did you have to be so fucking hot? In your sexy leggings and your tight tank top that just about left nothing to the imagination. Not to mention how cute and innocent you were, and so much smaller than him, so much weaker than him…
“Fuck, baby, you’d run for the hills if you knew the thoughts I was thinking.” Ari tells you, giving your breasts another squeeze.
“What?” You mumble, but it seems like you’re halfway in dreamland. Which is exactly what Ari wants, because fuck it. He’s done waiting around for you, picturing you when he jacks off. He’s been doing that for years now, because he cums the hardest when he pictures you. All sweet and innocent, getting fucked by him in various positions. Crying because his cock is so big as it violates you, tears you open and claims you as he fucks you deep and hard, till you can feel him up in your womb. Till you’re screaming his name, telling him that he’s your daddy, telling him you’ll do anything for him.
Ari still remembers the first time you’d made him cum. You hadn’t been aware of it, but the way you’d bounced up and down on his lap, excited about some silly thing or the other, he couldn’t really remember. But what he does remember is busting a nut hard, your breasts pushed up prettily against his chest and your butt rubbing against his boner, practically milking his cock as he came in his pants. He’d had a taste of heaven that night, and that was years ago. He’d been sneaking more tastes ever since.
“But never the real thing,” Ari sighs to himself, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of your leggings. “I still haven’t been inside that tight snatch of yours, sweetheart. Isn’t that sad?”
You mumble something incoherent, clearly still half asleep. And Ari’s too horny to care, trying his luck by snapping the waistband of your leggings against your skin, licking his lips when you don’t stir.
“No panties, huh?” He teases you, slipping a hand down your leggings to cup your butt cheek and give it a hefty squeeze. “It’s like you’re begging me to fuck you, sweetheart. I wonder what Steve would think?”
God, Ari hates Steve. Hates him with a blind fury. He hates that the idiot blonde has weaselled his way into your life. Ari turned his back for one second (he was in the NFL, so football took up 90% of his time) and Steve just scooped you up before Ari could talk you out of it. He’s never officially met Steve, but he’s seen him. Seen him holding hands with you. Kissing you. Taking you out on dates. And Ari hates him for it.
Most of all, Ari hates that you let Steve fuck you.
“Oh, you think I don’t know that you’ve been a naughty girl?” Ari coos, chucking your chin and smirking when you pout in your sleep. He strokes your face with one hand, the other one still firmly cupping your bare ass from under your leggings. “My little baby girl, giving herself to another man. Let me tell you, baby, I was furious when I found out. I almost went over to Steve’s apartment and killed him with my bare hands.”
“But you’d hate me if I did that.” Ari sighs, pinching your cheek lightly. He licks his lips, lifting your tank top up till it rests above your chest, before pushing the cups of your bra down to your ribs. Your breasts spill out attractively, and Ari feels a thrill go straight down to his crotch. “I should’ve been the only one who ever got to see you naked. I mean, remember all those showers we took together?”
Ari had persuaded you on multiple occasions to shower with him in order to conserve water. Oh yes, he’d managed to convince you that he was all about saving the environment, and water conservation was number one on his list. And you hadn’t seemed to mind, giggling and washing his hair for him, not noticing how his eyes remained glued to your hot, soapy body, how his fingers itched to grab your hips, bend you over and fuck the living daylights out of you…
“But you just had to let Steve fuck you, didn’t you? Before I even got the chance.” He can’t help but dip his head down, latching his mouth on your bare nipple. God, he’d touched and fondled you over the years, but nothing like this. He tries to keep his excitement at bay but he can’t help but suckle the stiff peak of your nipple, growing hornier than ever as he keeps from suctioning your whole breast into his mouth, his one hand fondling your body while the other slips down to undo his fly and take his dick out.
“Mm, Ari… Is that you?” You murmur, sounding surprisingly eloquent for someone who’s meant to be asleep. But you’re indeed still asleep, softly snoring while Ari continues to have his way with you. He releases your nipple with a pop, gently turning you over so that you’re lying on your stomach, your cheek pressed against the arm rest of the couch.
“Now sweetheart, I’ll show you what it’s like to be with a real man. And I’ll make sure you remember it, even if you do think it’s all just a dream.”
He wastes not in slipping your leggings down to your knees, hungry eyes drinking in your cute, bare ass. He gives it a little smack, hands itching to hit you harder but he knows you’d wake up. And then how would he explain himself? Well, he could probably think of something (“I was just giving you a full-body massage, sweetheart. Your muscles seemed tense.”) You’d definitely believe it, since you were gullible enough to believe all the flimsy lies he’d been telling you for the past few years.
Ari presses a soft kiss to your butt, simultaneously grabbing a handful of your cheek and giving it a lewd jiggle. God, you were so sexy, lying down so nice for him as he violated your body. Well, it wasn’t a violation because he owned you. He’d owned you since the day he met you, and no sorry ass loser by the name of Steve Rogers was going to take you away from him. Steve may have gotten to pop your cherry, but Ari was going to make sure that that never happened again. The only dick you’d remember the feel of would be Ari’s, and that was a promise he was making to himself and to you. (If you were conscious right now, that is).
“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Ari breathes, one hand on your hip and the other on his cock as he drags the tip of it up and down your ass. Tracing it over your butt cheek and smearing his precum all over the skin before he grabs and spreads your ass, pressing his dick between your crack and rubbing it up and down. “God, fuck, baby, I can’t believe you’re finally letting me do this.”
He spits, his saliva dripping down your ass crack and gathering in your puckered hole, making him grin. He’d fuck you there one day too – but you’d need to be awake and aware for that. There was no way he was stuffing his big dick inside your virgin ass while you were asleep.
“Ari? Feel kinda wet…” You mumble, trying to turn over but he presses his hand in the small of your back to keep you in place.
“You’re just dreaming, baby.” He tells you, stroking your hair to lull you back to sleep. “It’s raining outside, and so you’re dreaming of rain. That’s why you feel wet, sweetie.”
“Ohhhh, makes sense…” You answer, and Ari can’t believe his luck that you’re still asleep. Or not fully conscious… Same difference.
He spreads your ass cheeks wider, placing a pillow under your hips to prop you up. And then his eyes drink in your glistening pussy. And now he understands why you were mumbling about being feeling wet…
“Naughty little baby pussy, getting all wet just because daddy’s playing with your ass.” Ari scolds, talking to your pussy and not you. He itches to spread your wet folds with his fingers and give you a hard slap right on your bundle of nerves. But he knows the jolt from something like that might wake you up.
You’ve soaked the couch cushion underneath you, and that’s hen Ari knows you’re ready. Well, you’ll never truly be ready for his dick. Ari knows he’s bigger than average – enough girls have told him so. But none of those girls are you. He’s not in love with them like he is with you, all those supermodels and actresses are just placeholders until he settles down with you. Makes you his wife and fucks you good every single day.
“I can’t believe you’re asleep for our first time.” Ari whispers, gliding the tip of his dick up and down your slick folds. “I mean, I think it’s kind of hot, but that’s not the point. You weren’t asleep when you let Steve fuck you, were you?”
A spark of anger courses through his veins just then, and he can’t help but reprimand you by smacking your ass hard. And all you do is whimper in your sleep, his naughty little girl.
“I bet he didn’t even make you cum.” Ari breathes, mounting you and angling your hips upwards. “Not like how I will. And you know why? Because I’m your daddy and I know your body better than anyone.”
Ari still remembers the first time he made you call him daddy. It was during a game of truth or dare, and he’d dared you to call him daddy for the rest of the night. And fuck, you had done it. And his dick had grew harder and harder through the course of the night, as you addressed him as daddy all cutely, pouting those pretty lips of yours and blinking up at him innocently. Fuck, you had no idea how much of an effect you had on him. Even when he was fucking all those models, he’d imagine they were you. He chose the ones that looked like you, and sometimes he’d even call them by your name. They were too fucked out to notice, and it’s not like Ari cared about their feelings.
No, Ari only cared about you.
It feels like heaven as he slowly eases his dick inside you. You’re so wet and warm, your walls hugging his huge dick as if he’s being encased in warm velvet. God, this is everything he’d ever dreamed of, and he doesn’t even care that he isn’t the first one to fuck you. He supposes he could forgive you for that, because you’re his baby and he loves you.
“Nnngh, Ari…” You moan in your sleep before your body goes stiff with alertness, “Wh-What’re you doing?”
“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep. It’s just a dream.” Ari manages to coax you, despite the fact that your little snatch is squeezing his dick so good and he’s not even halfway inside of you but it’s such a goddamn tight fit and he knows that if you were awake right now you’d be crying from discomfort.
“Just a dream?” You murmur, before your body jolts and you let out another moan, “Mmm, Ari, so full…”
“Oh, baby, I’m gonna tear you in half.” Ari promises you, resisting the urge to drive his big dick all the way inside you from the get-go. No, you’re his baby, his princess, his best friend, and the love of his life. He has to be gentle with you – at first, at least. He doesn’t want to split you open and make you bleed. Well, he does, but there’s plenty of time to do that in the future.
He pushes his dick further into you, pinning your body in place as you squirm from the sheer size of him.
“I’m already fucking you better than that asshole boyfriend of yours ever did, huh?”
“Mmhm, yess….”
“Damn straight. I bet his cock ain’t as big as mine, huh?”
“Oh, Ari… Nooo.”
It’s a marvel that you’re asleep yet answering his questions, but he figures you think it’s all just a dirty little dream you’re having. He begins to rock his hips harder, still having trouble stuffing his whole length inside your tight pussy. Not to mention, your walls are hugging him like a vice, and he resists the urge to bust a nut every time he looks down to where you both meet.
“Call me daddy, sweetie. Like how you did that night we played truth or dare.”
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, just like that. God, I love how well you take instructions even when you’re asleep. You’re so perfect for me, sweetheart. I need to move you into my house soon. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being an NFL player’s girlfriend? Getting fucked by me every single night till you can’t walk straight ever again. That’s just half of what I plan to do to you.”
Finally, finally, Ari bottoms out inside you, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy as he shudders with relief. You’re moaning sleepily underneath him but all he can focus on is the delicious squeeze of your walls against his thick dick, and how well you’ve taken him.
“Good girl.” Ari praises you, giving your ass another hard squeeze. “Taking your best friend’s dick so well, aren’t you? Or should I say, your daddy’s dick?”
“Daddy…” You mumble as if on cue.
“Damn right.”
Ari fucks you hard. Well, as hard as he can while still ensuring you remain asleep. He keeps a steady pace, unable to bite back his own moans of pleasure at the fact that he’s finally fucking you. And you look so pretty, your soft body underneath him, tensing and clenching around him like it’s your job to take his daddy dick in your little fuckhole.
He grabs a handful of your hair, tugging your head to the side and spitting down on your cheek. Loving how your nose scrunches up all cutely before he reaches out to smear his saliva all over your face, making you look as slutty as possible. Slutty just for him, because after tonight, no other man would ever have you like this. Or have you at all, for that matter.
“Tell me you love my daddy dick.” He repositions himself till he’s lying over you, his body pinning yours down and his chest against your back, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a steady pace. He licks the shell of your ear lewdly before nibbling on your earlobe, “Tell me you love it when daddy fucks you with his big daddy dick.”
“L-Luh your dick!”
“My what?” He slaps your ass, doing it hard even though he knows he’s pushing his luck.
“Love daddy’s dick.” You murmur dutifully, and Ari can’t believe you actually said it. A part of him wonders if it’s all an act and if you’re awake, but one look at your unconscious face, albeit sweaty and breathing hard, confirms you’re still out of it.
“Fuck, baby. Daddy can’t hold on much longer, your baby pussy is just too sweet.” Ari tells you, feeling his thrusts get faster and faster as he chases his release. But before he can even think of what’s happening next, he feels you clench around him hard.
“Nngh! Daddy!” You whimper and your body quivers and tries to toss and turn except he holds you in place, watching in awe as you cum. You squeeze his dick so tight he forgets to breathe momentarily, just watching your sweet cream squirt out of you as if you’re being paid to squirt all over him. He forgets about his own pleasure for a second, hand sneaking down and fingers finding your clit. You jolt in his arms, whimpering and moaning underneath him as he rubs your button, pinching it cruelly before slapping it. Alternating between circling and rubbing, and does he imagine it or are you humping up against his hand as he does it?
You let out the cutest squeak in the world before you cum once more, and it’s enough to tip Ari over the edge too. He grips you so hard, he knows it’ll leave bruises on your skin. But he doesn’t care, his dick explodes as he releases his heavy load inside you, not caring that he isn’t wearing a condom. Not caring that you’re not on the pill (he knows, because he makes it his business to know everything about you). The idea of getting you pregnant doesn’t deter him at all, despite the fact that he’s at the start of his NFL career. That doesn’t matter, being a football player’s pregnant wife is a look that would suit you well.
And the idea of you pregnant with his baby gets Ari hard all over again.
“Look what you’ve done, sweetie.” Ari tsk-tsks, “You’ve got daddy hard again.” He strokes your hair back, wiping the sweat off your face as you breathe hard underneath him, miraculously still asleep. “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to catch your breath before I fuck you again.”
He lays on top of you, breathing hard with his dick still lodged inside you, stroking your hair and cuddling you close. And that’s when your eyes flutter open.
“Ari? What’s going on? Why do I feel so…so…”
“Shhh, baby, it’s just a dream.”
“It is?”
He sits up, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one before taking a long drag, looking down at your spent body that he’s just used and feeling extremely proud of himself. “Of course. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”
“Mmm,” The claws of sleep already have you closing your eyes again, and you snuggle up closer to him, a look of serenity on your face as if you haven’t just been fucked and filled with his cum. Cigarette between his lips, Ari offers you his thumb, smirking when you immediately encase it between your lips, sucking on it like it’s a lollypop.
“Love you, Ari. Thank you for always taking care of me.”
FUCKEFNVD THE END! NFDKSLN IDEK! FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED PLS TELL ME WHAT OYU THINK AND REBLOG AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF THANK U BYEEE
#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#chris evans#steve rogers#chris evans x reader#steve rogers x reader
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HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽
I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.
First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.
I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.
In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.
Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.
Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.
Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.
I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.
My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.
It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?
This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.
Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.
#maya talks#love and deepspace#lnds#lads#l&ds#rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel lnds#rafayel l&ds#rafayel lads#sylus#sylus love and deepspace#sylus lnds#sylus lads#sylus l&ds#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#fandom
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✤ Slow Burn ✤
A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.
- Top 5 H/L Fics -
1️⃣ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics {M, 113k}
As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.
2️⃣ got the sunshine on my shoulders by @hattalove {E, 124k}
five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.
now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.
(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)
3️⃣ Collision by itjustkindahappened / @tequiladimples {E, 226k}
Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.
(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)
4️⃣ Flightless Bird by audreyhheart {E, 97k}
AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?
5️⃣ Shake Me Down by @agreatperhaps12 {NR, 208k}
Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.
HIDDEN GEMS:
💎 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere {E, 149k}
Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?
Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.
But this isn’t that universe.
//an X-Men AU.
💎 ghost of you by beckywritesthings / @beckydoesthings {E, 109k}
As a rule, Mandalorians and Jedi do not get along.
So when Harry Styles, esteemed Jedi Knight, finds out he has to work with the hot-tempered Mandalorian Duke, Louis Tomlinson, he’s prepared for it to go poorly. But it doesn’t, testing both of their boundaries of what they deem acceptable for a partnership.
It’s the start of something, and as the galaxy dissolves into war, they find themselves clinging to each other, even as it drags up things better left in the past. As it turns out, nothing between them has changed.
Or, a Star Wars AU where Harry is Obi-Wan, Louis is Satine, and somehow there’s a love story between the cracks where there shouldn’t be.
💎 don't be afraid to love (and love again) by localopa / @voulezloux {T, 83k}
All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt.
As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s.
Louis is a boy. He knows he is.
or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.
💎 Gemma's Dad (Could Use A Guy Like Me) by @lululawrence {NR, 83k}
The summer before Louis and Gemma's senior year of college was supposed to be their last big hurrah before they graduate college and become Real Adults in the workforce. They had it all planned and it was going to be filled with mornings skateboarding, afternoons at the pool, and evenings hanging out with as many of the neighborhood kids they grew up with as they can.
Of course, Louis wasn't planning on getting home and learning that Gemma's dad had gotten the house in the divorce and was dealing with things by focusing on work, the house, and his newly planted garden. It becomes obvious early on that Harry is a bit lost and Gemma is worried about him. To help both of them, Louis is more than happy to help Harry find himself again.
As the summer goes on, the adventures and day to day happenings allow Harry and Louis to spend a lot more time together than either of them ever anticipated and Louis finds it more difficult to keep his growing feelings in check than he ever thought it would be. After all, there wasn't a chance that Harry would ever be interested in Louis... right?
💎 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo {E, 79k}
“Louis, what do you have to say about how last week ended?” the reporter asks. There’s a moment of silence. Harry is looking at the reporter, but eventually gives in and looks down the table at Louis. He’s looking straight ahead, as if Harry isn’t even in the room. “If you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.” Harry leans forwards, placing his arms on the table and leaning onto them to get as close to his microphone as he can while looking at Louis. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Louis turns to him, his icy blue eyes meeting Harry's. “Driving is your fuckin’ job, act like it.”
In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.
aka the one where Louis and Harry are childhood friends to enemies to lovers over the course of 15 ish years.
#ficrec#slowburn#helloamhere#mediawhore#thelarenttrap#lululawrence#beckywritesthings#localopa#hatetolove#agreatperhaps12#audreyhheart#itjustkindahappened
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KINKTOBER DAY 27 — CORRUPTION KINK
PAIRING: sunoo x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, manipulation, corruption kink, best friend!sunoo, usage of nicknames.
WC: 1k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, angels! i have a fic for sunoo aaa so excited to post this, i hope you like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
✎ kinktober masterlist
“Please, won’t you help me?”
Asking your best friend for help would be your final and only resort, granted that you trusted no one else with your situation but him.
Kim Sunoo, your best friend and the guy who is loved by everyone, his smile too contagious, actions too pure, making everyone think that he’s the purest soul on earth.
Which is why approaching him is easy, given he’s always there to listen to your problems, providing you with the most comforting hugs known to mankind. His words of affirmation made everything better.
And he was aware of your interest in the new guy on the campus, although he did warn you as the guy happened to have fuckboy tendencies—said the gossip blog of your university on Twitter.
Yet you wanted to push your luck and give it a try. Problem? You hadn’t ever kissed anyone before, fucking is way out of line, and knowing the guy, you’d probably have to be experienced to gain his attention.
There’s no one else you’d trust with something so personal, so intimate. You know that Sunoo doesn’t engage in these kinds of activities, but he’s still got more experience than you, which is why you wanted to give it a shot by asking him for help.
By asking him to teach you the basics—kissing, touching, fucking, and whatever he was willing to teach.
The idea itself sounds a bit twisted to you, but your desperation speaks louder than your sanity.
“Babe, please think it twice, you won’t get your firsts back ever,” Sunoo tried to reason with you, despite being excited on the inside.
He was waiting for this day. He might have the pretty face and a pretty soul persona, but he can very well be selfish and manipulative for the things he’s desperate for, which also includes you.
The opportunity is perfect for him to give you everything you had ever desired. Being your best friend came with perks, now he knew exactly what you craved in a man, and Sunoo would give you all of that, while pretending to be helping you, because there’s no way he would actually try to get you with the good for nothing guy.
You nodded, holding his hand, “I trust you, Sun. But of course, only if you’re comfortable with it too, I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” you say.
Sunoo smiles gently, soothing your nerves, “of course, anything to help my princess,” he pulled you in a hug, and you smiled at how easy it was to communicate with him.
“We’ll start off slow, yeah?” He promised, and you gulped while nodding.
His eyes had a certain gleam to them, the kind you had never seen before and it excited you more than it should have, “trust me and follow whatever your body asks you to do,” he whispers, pulling you closer and you comply, his grip tightened as you sat on his crotch.
Sunoo was sly, but also elated beyond words when he held you so close, sniffing your perfume which he was obsessed with, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, trying his best to hold back his emotions.
He’s wanted this for so long.
You couldn’t breathe, the feeling was something you had read about, and it was just as magical, especially in the way Sunoo held you so gently, the tingles on your lips making you moan without any control over yourself.
He wanted this, he wanted you to immerse yourself in Sunoo, give him your all while taking whatever he provides you with, turning you into some sort of personal toy, who won’t be able to work without him.
You couldn’t stop kissing him that day. Maybe it was the excitement of learning something new, yet it had you in a chokehold. You were eager, calling Sunoo the very next day to practice some more. You were shy, but you genuinely wanted to learn, at least that’s what you convinced yourself.
Sunoo acted gentle each time, practicing kissing with you but also leveling it up a notch as he touched you all over your clothes, your mind fuzzier than ever.
His excuse, “he is very touchy, you should be prepared for it, princess,” Sunoo had told you, and you nodded, breathless.
You let him do everything, teach you everything. From kissing, to touching, to pleasing one’s cock, to getting eaten out, to being fucked dumb. Sunoo taught you everything, memorizing your body as he went on, letting his carnal desires take over as he got more aggressive over the time.
Before you knew it, you were begging, touching yourself late at night, crying and whimpering because it didn’t feel as good as it did when Sunoo touched you.
“Pathetic,” he scoffed, seeing you in despair over the fact that you needed Sunoo to feel good.
He was successful, you couldn’t do a thing without him, your body ached for his touch, the thought of others never once entering your mind which was already full of Sunoo.
“Can’t even make herself feel good,” he clicked his tongue, his cock teasing your wet entrance, collecting and smearing your juices all over his cock, “always begging me to touch her pretty little cunt.”
“S—Sunoo! Please,” you cried out, and he smirked at the sight of you being so broken, so corrupted, all because of him.
“Shh, be a good girl and take it,” he whispered, slamming his cock into your cunt, his tip hitting the g-spot as he bottomed out, courtesy of your juices, which provided the best lubrication.
You couldn’t help but moan, tears flowing uncontrollably as your nails dug into his back, leaving scratch marks as you held on to him for support.
It felt like heaven. Sunoo felt like an angel in its demonic form.
You wiggle as your whole body spasms with excitement, the familiar knot building up in your abdomen, his own thickness twitching inside the confinement of your warm walls.
All it takes is a couple of thrusts and you both come undone, gasping for air but rushing for a kiss, as if it’s more important than mere air to you. He keeps his cock inside, filling you up with his warm seeds, ruining you once and for all.
You couldn’t be anyone else’s, not when you’ve got Sunoo.
THANK YOU FOR READING!
permanent taglist: @jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @jaysbiceps @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae
@lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi
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The Christmas Party - Finale!
summary: the Christmas Party is finally here! … and you and Negan are not on good terms
tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Flirting, Kissing
word count: 7.1k
A/N: this is the final chapter! thank you to everyone who's read this and left comments!! For some reason, I always hesitated doing multi-chapter fics because I didn't think my writing was good enough to keep people captivated for more than one chapter but this has given me a serious confidence boost! and that's thank to all of you!
Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy!!!
Negan doesn’t know if you can be pussy whipped when you’re not getting any pussy, but damn that’s exactly how he feels with you.
He’s always been a fan of temporary pleasures, quick fixes for the emptiness that gnawed at him. He wasn’t interested in long term or relationship—at least, not in the way most people understood it. Love was something people with hope clung to.
And Negan? He had lost hope a long time ago.
He’s had women, plenty of them, but none of them have ever meant more to him than a night of fleeting connection. Negan never made a fool of himself ice skating for some pussy, nor has he ever wined and dined them.
And he would say he still hasn’t, mainly because that would mean referring to you as just another piece of pussy. And no matter how hypocritical it may be, he doesn’t like that.
He doesn’t know how you do it, how you can penetrate the walls he’s spent years putting up. You’ve never been impressed by his bravado or his flirting.
No, instead you’re the sweet type. You like the little moments, the playfulness, the cheeky texts neither of you should be sending during work hours.
Negan’s known it for a while now. He doesn’t want you like the others. He doesn’t want a night away or a quick fix. He wants the ice skating, the banter throughout the work day, the hot chocolates and dinner dates.
Fuck, all you’ve given him is a kiss and Negan’s smitten.
Waking up the morning after your sweet kiss, you’re the first thing that pops into Negan’s head. More specifically, it’s you in his truck, his leather jacket over your shoulders and eyes crinkling at the corners as you laugh at some dumbass joke he made.
He woke up alone, having gone home the night before and spent an hour on the phone to Mark Smith.
Negan couldn’t believe he actually sat on his couch and willingly listened to his colleague talk about some upcoming market by where he’s staying in Jamaica. Negan even asked Mark how his wife and kids were doing– voluntarily!!
He didn’t recognize himself anymore. The pain, while still there, isn’t as strong. Negan can’t find the strength to harness that resentment he had at the world and himself.
Because how could he hate himself when he’s had your sweet lips on his not even 24 hours earlier?
But his Thursday goes downhill from the get go. Negan has a pep in his step as he leaves his house, quickly locking the door behind him before heading for his truck. A part of him hopes the smell of your perfume will still be lingering in there.
Aaaand that’s the start of a very bad day. Negan never gets to his truck, instead stopping a few feet away when he sees someone else parked behind him.
His lips twist downward in a slight sneer. It’s the kind of look that says, “I don’t like you, and I’m not hiding it” without needing to say it aloud.
Sherry has her car parked directly behind Negan, purposefully blocking him in. She stands outside, her arms crossed as she tries to keep warm.
“Hi…” she says plainly, trying to ease into this.
When he speaks, it’s deliberate. His voice is dry, almost bored, but the weight of his words hangs heavy. "This is private property, ya can’t park there" Negan’s tone is laced with the kind of casual authority he’s so used to.
It’s not a request. It’s not even a command. It’s a fact, something he’s not even sure needs to be said, but he does anyway because she’s standing there like this is some kind of game.
Starting for his truck again, he only stops when she says his name.
Sherry huffs, rolling her eyes. Of course he won’t make this easy. “Negan,” her tone is firmer now “I want to cash in that I-owe-you. Now”.
His hand rests on the truck door but he doesn’t make a move to open it yet. Instead, he turns his body slightly, pivoting so he’s facing her fully now. Negan’s posture tightens, shoulders squared.
“And you think that means you show up to my home at…” he makes a point of bringing his wrist up to read his watch “seven forty five in the damn morning?”.
“I said whenever and wherever,” she shrugs “and I remembered where you lived, so…”.
Now it’s Negan who rolls his eyes. Because, yes, out of everything, he needs a reminder that he brought her home once upon a time ago.
Seeing his little cooperation is shrinking, Sherry cuts to the chase “You have a motorbike, right?”.
“Used to” he corrects her vaguely. Medical bills are a hell of a hit to the balls… and bank account.
“Ok, good,” opening the passenger door to her car, Sherry begins to walk back over to the driver's side “well, get in”.
Negan doesn’t move. “This is kidnapping” he states.
Sherry tries not to lose her patience, nibbling on her bottom lip so she doesn’t let out a string of curses. “No, it’s the favor you owe me,” she corrects “and it’s for Christmas, so c’mon”.
Despite every fiber in his being telling him not to, Negan takes a step closer. “Unless you’re gonna drop me off at the school, we’re gonna be late” be points out.
With the wave of her hand, Sherry dismisses him and gets in. “It’ll be fast” is all she says to assure him.
Glancing back to his truck one last time, Negan sighs before reluctantly getting into Sherry’s car.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
By the time Negan gets to work, he’s pissed off, late and hungry. You’d think as the head cook of the cafeteria, Sherry would’ve had some snacks hidden away in her car but nope, Negan had to starve.
Negan tries to stay positive. He reminds himself that once he knocked out a few more classes, he would have time to do something he’d been looking forward to—setting up the Christmas tree with you.
But as the day drags on and the hours tick by, his phone remains suspiciously quiet. He sent you a few texts, nothing crazy, just simple check-ins asking when you’d be free to hang out later.
A casual message, nothing too pushy. But now, after getting through some classes, it has been hours and there still isn’t a reply.
At first, he figures you’d just busy, maybe caught up in teaching or managing your unruly students. He knows you have a lot on your plate and he didn’t want to be that guy who expecta instant responses.
It’s fine. He’s patient. You’d get back to him when you have the chance.
But as lunch rolls around and there’s still nothing, he can’t shake the nagging feeling that something isn’t right. It’s subtle at first, just a flicker of unease, but it grows with every passing minute.
He finds himself glancing at his phone more often, tapping his fingers against the desk, trying to focus on his work but getting distracted.
Something is off.
Negan gives the little pumpkin statue on his desk a quick rub, as if the small gesture might bring him some kind of luck.
He doesn’t know why he’s so worked up. It’s not like he’s a clingy guy. But the silence between you two today? It’s not like you and it’s starting to eat at him.
First stop is the teacher’s lounge. Empty. He checks your classroom next— locked. No sign of you. Then, he heads to the sports hall, hoping you might be there, finishing something up. No luck.
Hell, he even hangs around the women’s toilets for a minute. It’s stupid, he knows, but he figures if you’re dealing with that time of the month, you might need a minute.
He leans against the wall, trying not to look too out of place, but when Sasha passes by with a raised brow, he realizes how ridiculous he looks.
“Shit,” he mutters, pushing away from the wall.
He’s not the clingy type. He knows that. But by the time lunch comes to an end, he’s sent you a decent amount of texts.
Negan: you ready for the tree?
Negan: it’s in the hall
Negan: u ok?
Negan: is this hide and seek? Where are you?
Negan: hellllllllooooooooooo? My messages are going through so I know you don’t have me blocked
More classes pass and Negan’s patience wears thinner with every passing minute. He yells at a group of rowdy students, his voice echoing through the sports hall as he orders them to watch out for the cheerfully decorated tables as they do their jumping jacks.
He checks his watch, the second hand ticking a little too loudly for his liking. It’s almost the end of the school day and Negan can feel the weight of his frustration pressing down on him.
He hasn’t heard a damn thing from you, not a single text, not even a “Hey, I’m busy.” Nothing.
And the silence? It’s driving him nuts.
By the time he’s checking the teacher’s lounge again, he’s about ready to give up… but then it happens. Just as he’s walking by Ms. Peletier’s classroom, the door clicks open.
You step out.
It’s like a moment of clarity hits him and for a second, all his frustration melts away. There you are— looking like you’re trying to escape something.
You’re not your usual self. There’s something different about you today, something… timid. You’re not holding eye contact, your shoulders are a little hunched like you’re trying to make yourself smaller.
“Holy fucking shit,” Negan says, his voice full of relief “I was about to send out a search party, where the fuck have you been, doll?”
He expects a smile, some kind of warmth in your eyes. But instead, you tense. For a heartbeat, your body locks up, like you didn’t expect to see him.
He watches, confused, as you quickly gather yourself. For a second, he thinks you might be walking toward him, like you’re about to talk, to explain yourself.
But then, just before he can take a step forward, you say it.
“Fuck off”.
Negan’s a man that likes to curse. He likes to throw in a few fucks, pricks, shit balls, whatever he feels in the moment.
But this is different.
The curse slices through the air, harsh and bitter. The venom in each syllable sticks in his chest like a jagged piece of glass.
Negan’s stomach drops. He watches you walk past him, not even sparing him a glance and strut down the corridor without breaking stride.
For a moment, he’s frozen. The anger, the confusion— it all hits him at once. He isn’t the kind of man who gets easily thrown off, but right now? Damn right he feels uneasy.
“Woah, sweetheart, what’s that for?” Negan calls after you, confusion and hurt twisting his words.
He takes a step forward, instinctively wanting to follow you but before he can move another inch, a voice calls his name.
“Negan.”
He turns, annoyed, ready to snap at whoever’s interrupting him but when he sees Carol standing in the doorway of her classroom, he stops dead.
“Let her go,” she says, her tone calm, but firm.
His brow furrows. What the hell is this?
“What?” He takes a few strides toward her, his voice rising.
Carol raises a hand, palm out, silencing him before he can continue. “Let her go,” she repeats, her expression unreadable “She’s not interested”.
Negan’s chest tightens. Her words hit him like a punch to the gut but it’s the way she says them so matter-of-fact that makes him freeze in place. He opens his mouth, but the words don’t come.
He looks at her, searching her face for some hint, some sign that this is a misunderstanding. But Carol doesn’t flinch. Instead, she just watches him, her eyes steady.
“She’s not interested,” she repeats, softer this time, but still unyielding.
The truth stings. It settles over him like a weight, heavy and suffocating. The realization that everything he thought he knew about what was happening between you two—what he thought was real—might have only been a quick flash in the pan.
Negan stands there for a moment. The hallway around him feels too quiet, too empty. His chest tightens again and he can’t tell if it’s from anger or hurt or pure disbelief.
He looks back down the hall, where you disappeared, then back at Carol. With a sharp exhale, Negan turns away, heading in the opposite direction without saying another word.
What else is there to say?
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
Friday feels like damnation, and not just because of the party. You purposely come in earlier than usual, not wanting to run into Negan as you set up the last remaining decorations for the gym. Even Joey isn’t in yet.
You can still feel the rush of anger, the way it surged through you when you saw them together, Negan and Sherry. You wouldn’t say you’re a jealous person but to see them arriving together, after everything?!
After Sherry warned you away from him, the dates that weren’t dates you went on with Negan… the kiss. You wonder if you didn’t move fast enough for him and if he went straight to Sherry’s after dropping you home that night.
You’re pissed—so fucking pissed—but more than that, you’re hurt. The way he acted around you was like you were something special. It was as if maybe, there was something more between you two, more than banter and attraction.
But now? Now it feels like a fucking joke. He’s out there, probably flirting with whoever is next on his hit list while you’re here, stewing in your own mess of feelings and sticking wreaths on to tables.
You want to punch something just to feel like you’re doing something to get rid of this ache in your chest.
Your mind races—did they sleep together? Was it just another one-night thing for him? Did it mean nothing?
The thought of it gnaws at you, each question digging deeper. The betrayal, the feeling of being tossed aside, his voice when he called after you yesterday, the knowing look on Carol’s face when you told her what you had seen… It's too much.
You wish you could cry but you’re too damn mad. So you keep working, head down, fighting the sting of tears that are just waiting to break through.
The good news is the sports hall is finally done, besides the Christmas tree that was never put up.
The high, vaulted ceilings are draped with thick strands of sparkling tinsel in gold and silver, catching the light from the overhead fluorescent bulbs and making the whole room shimmer.
Long rows of tables are now covered in bright red and green cloths, each one bordered with tinsel and a wreath hanging off the front. Paper snowflakes some of the students made dangle from the walls, swirling like an indoor blizzard.
Around the room, there are signs that read things like “Merry Christmas!” and “Season’s Greetings!” in big, bold letters and decorated with holly.
Even the basketball hoops are dressed up, with thick, red ribbons tied in bows around the rims, and a few oversized ornaments dangling from the netting.
Everywhere you look, there’s something to bring a smile to your face— and yet that’s the one thing you can’t do.
“Well, hello there,” you don’t tense when you hear the masculine voice.
It doesn’t have that deep drawl Negan’s does. Nor does it make you want to shiver and purr at the same time.
“Hi, Joey” You don’t even glance at him as you say it, your eyes fixed on the twinkling lights that are tangled up in tinsel, casting a soft glow across the sports hall.
“The place looks great!” he says, his voice a little too bright as he walks deeper into the room, clearly trying to make conversation.
“Uh-huh,” you reply, your voice flat and distracted “It’s basically done now. Just have to run home after school to grab the drinks, and it’ll be ready”.
You don’t want to engage much more than that. The last thing you need right now is small talk or having to deal with anyone else.
“And the food?” Joey presses, his tone a little too chipper.
You force a tight-lipped smile, your jaw set as you turn toward him briefly. “Can you let Negan know that’s his shit to sort?” you ask, trying to keep your voice neutral, though it comes out cold.
“Uh—sure! Yeah!” Joey nods quickly, probably sensing the shift in your mood but not wanting to push it.
Without waiting for another word, you head toward the door, not bothering to look back. The last thing you want is to stick around the hall in case Negan shows up unexpectedly.
You can feel the tension already creeping up your spine at the mere thought of seeing him, of dealing with whatever’s going on between you two.
So, you leave, eager to put some distance between yourself and the mess you’re caught up in.
The school day drags, yet somehow, it feels like it’s slipping away too fast. The hours blur together— teaching feels more like a flurry of words and half-attention from your students as they count down the minutes to the end of the day.
You try to keep them engaged but it’s obvious they’re all just as eager for the holidays as you are.
The morning feels slow, like every minute stretches just a little too long. You try to get through your classes but every time the clock ticks, your mind drifts back to the party— back to everything that’s been weighing on you.
By the time you hit the afternoon, you’re caught in this weird mix of excitement and dread. Each class passes, each bell that rings to signal the end of a period feels like a countdown to something you’d rather not face.
The students, for their part, are bouncing off the walls. They’re eager to get out, to be free from school and homework and whatever else hangs over them.
You watch them, their chatter almost deafening and you can’t help but feel a sense of urgency in the air. It’s almost like the whole school is vibrating with the countdown and the seconds feel like they’re slipping through your fingers.
The lessons go by in a haze—you’re teaching, but you’re not fully there. You’re running through the motions, reciting your notes and trying to keep your class on track but you know that the closer you get to the end of the day, the closer you get to the party, to seeing Negan again, to dealing with whatever awkwardness looms between you two.
Finally, the last bell rings, the sound cutting through your thoughts like a knife. You breathe out a little too heavily, a mix of relief and frustration swirling inside you.
It’s over.
The school day’s done.
The holiday break is here and the party is just around the corner. You grab your things quickly, eager to get out of the classroom but the thought of facing the party, of facing him, slows your steps.
You want a moment of quiet before everything kicks off but you can only have such a luxury when you get home to quickly dress into something a little nicer and bring all the alcohol back here to the sports hall.
The noise in the hallways is deafening, students filing out, chatting excitedly about the break. Your thoughts, though, are already on the evening ahead.
You rush home, the quiet of your place a welcome relief after the chaos of the day. You head straight to your room, pulling off your teaching clothes and slipping into something nicer for the party—nothing too fancy, but enough to feel put-together.
A soft sweater and dark jeans, something comfortable but still festive. You grab the bottles you’ve set aside for the party, having to make multiple trips to your car before they're all loaded.
A quick glance in the mirror tells you that you’re ready but the knot in your stomach tells you the opposite. You grab your keys and head out the door, locking it behind you before making your way back to the school.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
It’s almost half six when the first few people trickle in and you’re glad to see their faces.
For the past forty minutes, it’s just been you, Joey and Negan in the hall, stealing plates and cups from the home ec room and putting all the drink on display. And in that forty… long… minutes, you and Negan exchanged a total of seven words.
“Where’s the tequila?” he basically huffed at you.
“Still in my car” you retorted, giving him the same energy.
You got a grunt in response and he yelled at Joey to go out and grab it as Negan left to get more plates.
But now the sports hall is buzzing with that awkward in-between energy—everyone’s showing up but the party hasn’t fully kicked off yet. There’s a nice hum of conversation, teachers hesitantly reaching for liquor and some commenting on the decorations.
Every time you cross paths with Negan, you veer the other way. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between you two, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.
You’re doing your best to keep yourself busy— lining up glasses, making sure the food table’s stocked thanks to the newest light in Negan’s life, Sherry (you swear you’re not jealous)—but it’s hard to ignore the tension, the way Negan moves around you, not quite looking at you but not completely avoiding you either.
In one corner of the hall, you see Aaron head towards the large speaker that sits silently waiting.
After a few seconds of fumbling with the speaker, the opening chords of ‘Last Christmas’ filled the room, too loud at first, making everyone glance at each other nervously, unsure if they were meant to sing along, dance, or just pretend it wasn’t happening.
Some teachers head over to the food. Thankfully, you haven’t run into Sherry yet, nor is that something you wish to do. But to give credit where credit is due, the food smells delicious and it’s not as plain as the food usually served at the cafeteria.
Fingers quickly grab skewers of chicken satay or tiny puff pastries as the music loops on, providing a kind of strange comfort.
"I swear," Morgan says as he fills his plate, laughing awkwardly as he nudges a colleague "I only came for the pigs in blankets".
Everyone chuckles the first real laugh of the evening and suddenly the awkwardness seems to melt away, if only a little. Yet it’s enough to kick off the night.
As the evening stretches on, the awkwardness begins to fade into something more familiar, a sort of communal ease that only happens when you’ve spent enough time around people you mostly like, but don’t quite know how to relax with.
You stand back and watch, nursing your drink.
A few teachers have found their rhythm, wandering between the buffet table and the cozy clusters of conversation, laughing a little too loudly and talking shop just enough to remind themselves they’re not too far from the classroom.
Jesus walks up to you and a few others, gesturing towards one of the empty corners. “Where’s the tree I gave you guys?” he asks curiously, no annoyance in his tone.
Taking a deep breath, you struggle for an answer “We uh, ran out of time to put it up”.
Jesus gives a quick laugh and a nod, taking your answer for what it is. “And you still have the extra baubles I donated too?” he clarifies, taking a sip of his drink.
You nod and hesitantly explain “Yeah, the tree and baubles are uh… they’re under the bleachers. We didn’t have the space in the storage room”.
Looking around at the other teachers listening, Jesus smiles “Well then, who’s game for putting up a tree?”.
Before you have time to process that, there’s a burst of energy.
Jesus and Morgan help bring out the tree. Tara takes the box of baubles, standing with her hands on her hips as she looks down at the box.
Aaron, ever the optimist, picked up a string of lights and began untangling them with the patience of a saint.
You stand there with a surprised look plastered on your face. Even the people who aren’t helping, stand by and watch. Michonne snaps a few pictures before typing on her phone, no doubt sending it to her husband or Carl.
Jesus, who has already taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, grabs the tree stand.
“The tree’s the easy part,” he tells the crowd “the real challenge is making it look intentional when you know it’s probably just going to be… well, a mess”.
Eugene, who has been quietly inspecting the box of ornaments with Tara, looks up at the group.
“I must admit, I find the idea of a decorated tree somewhat... quaint. But I’ll go along with the sentiment if it makes the rest of you happy,” Eugene says, picking up a candy cane ornament “Plus, I believe we can all agree—Christmas lights are critical”.
Aaron chuckles “Of course you’d have a whole theory about the importance of lights”.
With Eugene’s help, the tree is quickly set up and anchored in its stand, though it wobbles slightly, as if unsure of its purpose.
“No, no, no, it’s leaning to the left!” Gregory tries to direct them. As you all listen to Gregory and Sasha bicker whether the tilt gives the tree character, you notice a figure lurk closer to you.
Out the corner of your eye, you see Negan. His every movement seems charged, as if he’s on the edge of saying something but never does. And you? You’re not sure what to say either.
So instead, you both continue this dance, each of you pretending that the other isn’t right there, just a few feet away, caught in the kind of silence that screams everything without a single word being spoken.
“And where’s the tinsel?” Rosita rummages through the box of ornaments.
“I think there’s some old tinsel in the storage room,” you call out, wanting an excuse to get away from him “I’ll go get it!”.
Negan lowers his head, watching through his lashes as you hurry off to the storage room. He suppresses a sigh, wondering if it’s really that hard for you to be around him.
Do you seriously prefer the cramped, shitty old storage room compared to him?
This should have been fun. You two should be celebrating! Fuckin’ finally! You’ve made it and now the others are having the time of their life by willingly doing a team building exercise!
Right now, you should both be teaming up to haggle Michonne for a raise, not barely looking at one another.
And yet Negan can’t do it. He can’t find the words to say this to you. And so he stays in his spot and listens to the others make the task of decorating a Christmas tree seem impossible.
Ten minutes pass.
Still nothing. No you. No shitty tinsel. Just a whole lot of avoiding.
Negan can’t believe this. You’d rather hang out in the storage room? Or quietly slip out early? All that hurt and tip toeing around each other starts to bubble in Negan, slowly reaching it’s boiling point.
With a sharp turn, he makes his way through the crowd and towards the storage room. He figures he’ll check in there first and then check the parking lot to see if your car is still here.
His hand comes straight out as he opens the door with enough vigor to make it fly open. Not that he’s thinking about the door when he sees you, just standing there.
“Are you really gonna hide on me?” He starts, boots slamming against the messy floor as he leaves the doorway and walks deeper into the room, closer to you.
For a split second, you freeze. But as you see your opportunity for escape closing, you rush forward.
You don’t pay any attention to his question, trying to get past him as you blurt “Wait! Stop! Don’t let the door—”.
But before either of you can reach it, the door slams shut with a resounding thud, cementing back into its frame. Negan’s anger falters when he realizes what just happened.
He doesn’t know how many times he warned you about the old storage room door being hard to open from the inside, yet here you are— and now him, victim to the heavy door.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me…” His voice drops to a low, venomous growl as he steps back to the door. He tries to yank it open once, twice, thrice! And yet it stays in place.
With the click of his tongue, Negan looks to you “You seriously got yourself locked in here?”.
You don’t appreciate the mocking tone and so you bite back “Yeah and now you have too!”.
With a sigh, Negan leans up against some of the boxes. His anger is gone and now he’s just unsure what to say to you
You step up and try the door again. You yank the handle again, twisting it violently but the door stays still.
“Dammit!” You mutter under your breath, before you get a new idea and begin banging on the door.
“Hey! Hello? We’re in here! Help!” you shout, your voice rising with each strike.
Unfortunately it’s still not enough compared to the loud thumping of bass and jingle bells from the Christmas music blaring in the adjoining room.
Negan watches you with a mixture of bemusement and annoyance. He chuckles lowly, folding his arms across his chest.
“Well, that’s one hell of a performance,” he comments with a grin, the sarcasm dripping off his words. Stopping for a moment, you throw him a glare before continuing again.
“You’re bangin’ on beat with that Christmas nonsense. Hell, they won’t hear you over the jingle bells and whatever crap is playing” he points out, taking no notice of your glare.
You stop, staring at him with an annoyed look “I don’t need your commentary right now, Negan”.
He shrugs, uncaring “Just callin’ it like I see it. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Again”.
Ignoring his comments, you listen to the party outside. Laughter. Chatter too loud that it drowns out your shouts for help. The occasional cheering as they continue to decorate the tree.
“Sounds like they’re having fun” you grumble.
Negan waits a moment before replying, his tone losing his sarcasm “So should we”.
There’s a tightness when he says that— but not the good kind. You’ve always been one to blurt things out, Negan should know that better than anyone.
Although hearing you quietly mutter “Yeah, I’m sure you and Sherry should be having the time of your lives”, throws Negan’s head in a tailspin.
“What? Sherry?” The edge is back in his voice as he asks, making you go quiet again.
You shrug in response.
He narrows his eyes as you stay silent. When you don’t say a word, Negan shakes his head “Fuck, I thought we were gettin’ somewhere, and now? Now this shit?”.
Negan takes a breath before deciding to start small. “Why’re you bringing up Sherry?” he lets the question hang in the air.
Eyes flickering to the ground, your voice feels tight as you reply “I… I saw you with Sherry, arriving to work with her, and—”. You stop yourself, biting back the words.
It doesn’t matter that you stopped anyways as Negan interjects with a slightly sarcastic laugh “You thought I’d what? Sleep with her?”.
He steps closer, trying to get you to look at him.
“Doll, she just wanted to cash in that I-owe-you,” he says before deciding you’ll need more of an explanation “she wanted to buy her boyfriend a motorbike for Christmas but she knows fuck all about bikes… I, however, have had my fair share so I went with her to get give her my expert opinion. Nothing more. I just spent the morning looking at shitty second hand bikes”.
You nod, eyes still down as you process his answer. But now it’s Negan’s turn to get some answers.
“You really think I’d kiss you, then go and sleep with someone else right after?” his voice is firm but tinged with hurt “Is that how little you think of me?”.
That makes you look up, eyes wide before they soften with regret “No! I don’t— It’s just, you didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to think. You didn’t tell me anything about her or what you were doing”.
You hesitate, realizing how much you’ve misinterpreted “I should’ve talked to you first. I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t want to make a fool of myself”.
A few hollers can be heard in the sports hall as Negan pauses, letting out a slow exhale.
“You don’t have to apologize for giving a damn. I get it, though, how that would’ve looked,” he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself “I mean, Sherry and I, that was a one time thing that neither of us want a round two of”.
You nibble on your bottom lip, unsure whether you’ll like the answer to your next question but needing to ask nonetheless. “So… what did happen? Back then, between you and Sherry?”.
His posture shifts slight as if he’s physically as well as mentally letting down his guard.
“Sherry and her man were on a break, she wanted a distraction…” he trails off, letting you fill in the details “and then when they got back together, she had to really prove to the guy that she wasn’t interested in me anymore so she went from thinking I was good enough to fuck, to straight out hating me”.
“Huh… I kinda presumed you just cut contact with a lot of them after the deed is done” you reply, not expecting to hear that Sherry hated Negan anyways, whether or not he ghosted her.
“Oh I do sometimes, other times it just fizzles or it’s decided beforehand that it’s just a one night kinda thing” he explains “We both get something out of it”.
“A two way system” You call it.
Negan tilts his head as he thinks, “‘I wouldn’t exactly call it that. It’s just… mutual benefits.
A faint smirk ghosts his face “A two way system is you arguing with me, me arguing with you, you taking me on a date, me taking you on a date, me flirting with you, you flirting with me”.
You can’t help the smile at that, rolling your eyes teasingly, any annoyance you had for Negan melting away.
He continues, poking his tongue out of his mouth “Me kissing you.. you shoving your tongue down my throat”.
“I did not do it like that!!” You exclaim with a laugh.
He chuckles, his own annoyance gone now too. “You’re right, you’re right,” he concedes before thinking up a better way of saying it “you… oh so subtly slipping that dainty tongue of yours into my mouth all sexy like”.
“I didn’t use tongue!” You declare, throwing your hands up before the playfulness fades into a somber silence.
“I am sorry,” you reiterate ”I guess I should’ve trusted you more. I should’ve asked, instead of assuming.”
He gives you a look you can only describe as tender.
“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the talking-about-feelings kinda guy and I kinda thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” he tells you, his voice a gentle hum “But if you’re asking— I want this. I want you. No more games, no more misunderstandings. Just… us. Alright?”.
A small, relieved smile tugs at the corners of your lips, tension easing. “I think that would be nice” you agree, trying to drown out the loud Christmas music during your intimate moment.
There’s a quiet between you both, no more words needing to be exchanged. Negan begins to move again but instead of heading towards the door, he briefly disappears to the back of the storage room.
“Negan?” You call out.
He strolls over to one of the old boxes and starts to look through it. The musty smell of forgotten storage fills the air as he pulls out a dusty, crinkled piece of tinsel, its once-silver strands now dulled and faded with time.
“If we’re all good now…” he says as he stops and reaches down into the box “y’know what we gotta seal it with, right?”.
His mouth twitches with a hint of amusement and as he steps back toward you, dangling that goddamn piece of old mistletoe in front of you.
His expression is half-mocking, half-playful, as if he’s trying to make light of getting stuck in here.
You look at the mistletoe and then back up at him. “Well, it is tradition…” you tilt your head up, expecting to see that cocky expression of his but instead it gives way to something more sincere.
Before you can say anything, he’s lifting the mistletoe above your heads, positioning it just right.
Not being one to waste time, Negan presses his lips to yours, the kiss soft at first, just a light brush but as if giving into the moment, you deepen it.
His lips are warm and steady against yours. The taste of him lingers as it becomes more heated. Negan drops the mistletoe, both of you each other instinctively pulling closer.
His lips press more urgently against yours, like he's unable to hold back anymore. His hand slides from your waist to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, pulling you into him with a force that makes you gasp into his mouth.
That gasp seems to push him further, the heat between you intensifying. His tongue sweeps against yours in a coaxing manner. Backing away, you pull him with you until your back is flush against another stack of boxes.
There's nothing tentative about this anymore; it's a powerful, consuming kiss, raw with hunger and desire.
Negan’s hands slide under your festive sweater, skin on skin. The contact sends a shiver down your spine, heightening every sensation. Your fingers clutch at his shirt, needing more of him, more of this.
His body presses against you, hips aligning with yours, and the pressure builds as you feel the weight of him against you. His breathing becomes heavier, his chest rising and falling in sync with the erratic make out session.
The words around you fall on deaf ears, neither you or Negan paying attention to the Christmas music or the mumbling of Gregory outside saying “It’s in here, you say? Oh Christ!”.
Suddenly the music is clearer and another light source shines across your face. “Mm?” You question, although it’s hard to get the words out with Negan’s lips still on yours.
Pulling away, you see a look of shock and disgust on Gregory’s face.
He clears his throat, trying and failing to regain some semblance of control. “This… this is—uh—what is happening here?” his words came out in a disjointed jumble, bringing the other’s attention to the storage room.
“They’re together?!” you hear Rosita’s voice.
“You didn’t know about them?” the voice of Michonne reaches your ears “Carl told me they were a couple ages ago!”.
Suddenly you realize you’re like a deer in headlights, just frozen and watching. That is until Negan takes you hand in his and yanks you out of the storage room while the door is still open.
You follow his lead, letting him bring you out to the middle of the sports hall until he turns to face you again. His hands find their home on your back and he begins to sway to the slow Christmas song.
“Are we… dancing right now?” You question, clasping your hands around the back of his neck.
The others stare for a few moments before carrying on with whatever it is they were doing beforehand. Some drink, some stuff their faces and chat, while others grab a partner and dance too.
Negan doesn’t answer with words, instead giving you a little spin before finding you back in his arms.
“So… you still spending Christmas alone?” Negan says it casually, though there’s a subtle trace of concern in his tone.
You inhale before replying, shifting slightly in his arms “Yeah”.
“You sure about that?” He leans in a little closer, his face now just inches from yours, as though trying to read between the lines.
There’s a small, almost imperceptible shake of your head, showing you’ve already made peace with the decision as you sigh “I think it’s for the best I don’t change plans now and go spend it with my family”.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I was kinda trying to crash your plans, not suggest you skedaddle out of town” Negan’s grin widens, and he gives you a playful nudge
“What?”.
His smile deepens as he watches your reaction, fully aware of how bold he’s being. “Well, you’re spending Christmas alone, I’m spending Christmas alone,” he explains “we get on like a house on fire, you’re hot, I’m hot”.
“Negan!” you exclaim, a mix of embarrassment and amusement flooding your chest.
“I’ll bring the mistletoe” the offer hangs in the air, and you can feel the moment shifting, building toward something neither of you is fully ready to name, but both are undeniably feeling.
“… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you were there too” you slowly admit “but you have to bring me a present!”.
Negan chuckles, keeping his hands on the small of your back as he looks up and pretends to think. “Hm… I might be able to do that” he says.
He tries to act as though he’s debating the condition, as if he hasn’t already bought you things.
A cinnamon candle.
A pumpkin statue to match his own.
A winter coat that will actually keep you warm (that may have some leather accents so you’ll match his own jacket).
Some snacks he’s been picking up whenever he’s out.
And a list he’s made himself of the corniness Christmas movies he could find on the many streaming services that are around.
“Maybe I could do with that mistletoe now,” you tease, showing off your actual flirting skills.
Negan smirks down at you, one of his hands trailing up your back as you both sway to the music.
“Darlin’ I think we are way past mistletoe now,” he quips back before he leans down.
Despite being in the sports hall that made you and Negan go at each other’s throats. Despite being surrounded by your colleagues …
You kiss him.
#negan fanfiction#negan smith fanfiction#negan x reader#negan x you#negan#negan smith#negan twd#twd negan#jeffrey dean morgan x reader#jdm x reader#twd fic#negan smith x you#negan smith x female reader#negan the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead negan#the walking dead x reader
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First monthly faves for 2024 !! ❤️
Leave a message by @sherryvalli (book-verse)
@dot524: In the mood for some cute, heart-melting fluff? This is a one-shot that recounts Alex’s voicemail messages over the years from those who care about him - including Henry.
would you be my love, my love? (would you be mine) by ohprongs (book-verse)
@wilmonsfolklore: a strictly come dancing AU with a lot of feelings that I've been thinking about ever since i read it!!!
even though we know it isn't true by @matherines (book-verse)
@wilmonsfolklore: for everyone struggling with academic pressure, or anyone, really. it's pretty sad but of course there's comfort personified in Henry!!
beyond infatuation, how obsessively i adore you by @waterloolovers (book-verse)
@wilmonsfolklore: a new fandom classic if you ask me. Henry works at the daycare Alex's daughter goes to and their relationship progresses really naturally. the kid content in this fic is some of the cutest i have ever read and this is the perfect fic to go on your reread list for comfort.
And They Were Roommates by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Alex and Henry get to know themselves and each other after they move in together. This story is not sugarcoated at all, very realistic - just how life is, and so so sweet. Also, unfortunately, rather short, but still worth the read - as are many other stories by this author, such as the 'Las flores' series.
Spirit of the Season by @pridepages (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: A little late to the game but I finally read E.J's Christmas story. Her way of story telling doesn't disappoint in this shorter tale (by her standards). It's not lighthearted and it touches some difficult topics (mostly canon) but it's all worth it because of the way they fall in love through Christmas Eve/night. Can't recommend it enough!
Where There Are Octobers by @iboatedhere (book-verse)
@na-dineee: 31 short chapters that are just really fun to read! Some are post-canon or canon-compliant, others are AUs - but in all of them the characters are so beautifully drawn, true to how we know and love them! A vet AU, a hospital AU, major fluff, even an X-Files AU - and who knows, maybe one or two dribbles will turn into more?! Fingers crossed!
The Art of Losing by bigfishbigpond (book-verse)
@dot524: If you think the mid-story breakup should have been longer and more angsty, here’s the story for you. An interesting and heartfelt story of what Henry and Alex are like apart, and what pulls them back together.
I know that you hate me (Do you though?) by @arand0mdutchgirl (book-verse)
@magnificentandcoolfez: A bit of good ADHD angst (with some comfort ofc). I like the focus on how hard adhd can be and it's a short and good read for those who like comfort that comes in the shape of your crush holding you until you feel grounded again.
blushing ears and beating hearts by @kill8a (book-verse)
@na-dineee: This story is not just slow burn, it is glacial burn. It's an college AU, set in New York, and so slow, so tender, so fluffy - after reading it I was floating on cloud 9 for quite a while. I don't know if you feel the same way, but it's funny how changing one given variable somehow changes the whole dynamic between the two of them. Or is it just me?! Either way, it's so wholesome to tag along as their love blossoms, I still feel so hugged and cared for.
all so human with our guards down by @maxbegone (book-verse)
@myheartalivewrites: a post-apocalyptic story that is unlike any other. There are no zombies or gore, but instead it focuses on rebuilding and the softest love growing between Alex and Henry, surrounded by family and friends. I kinda wanted to live there by the end of it.
The Snow Prince by @orchidscript (book-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: several fairy tale tropes meet to create this absolutely amazing story. It has dreaminess of a fable, best kind of yearning of your favourite slow burn fics and a little bit of adventure of a fantasy novel.
but to say that I'm a rainbow, to tell me that I'm bright (when I'm so used to feeling wrong, well, it helps me feel alright.) by What_Is_A_Mild_Opinion (book-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: Fandom is really sleeping on this one! This story is a canon rewrite with characters reimagined as creatures with animal characteristics. The wordbuilding is so fantastic that even if you are not a fan of long fics following canon step by step, it's absolutely worth to check this even for a chapter or two and get to know these wonderful versions of Alex and Henry. (Alex is literally rainbow.)
safe with me / more than I ever (in a thousand years)by @indomitable-love (book-verse)
@na-dineee: I think the author is very well known among all rwrb fanfic readers. I really, really liked these two stories, like a lot: Two 5+1 fics, one from Pez's point of view, the other from Bea's - unfortunately both characters are given too little attention in the book imho. As expected, both narrators are sharply observing, protective of Henry, loving, honest, tender - and you end up loving Henry (and Alex) even more.
check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️
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Bittersweet love
An original AUmodernAzriel x Reader
these songs remind me of them <3333
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mention of trauma Summary: Growing up with your abusive father and your mother who never spoke up against him, you had truly given up hope of any chance of a real relationship, of real love, the ones of the kind that you read about in your books, till you're proven wrong.
A/N: this is my first fic ever+english isnt my first language, and I wrote this in a daze, the idea came to me at like 3 AM,so....enjoy muah<3 Thump.....thump. DAMN IT CAROLINE GET OUT HERE! Another night another fight, that too on their anniversary, a classic. I scoff thinking about all the picture-perfect smiles and the absolutely lovely speech my dad had read out for my mom tonight, a show, it was all a show, no one knew what went inside our house every week, how my dad hit my mom, screamed at her and then bought ridiculously expensive gifts for her as if that would fix everything. I was so so tired of their useless fights, every time it all ended the same way, with my mom never leaving. I heard the rain outside before I saw it. One thing about me was that I always loved the rain, growing up, and till now it just felt right to cry under its cover, to cry with it, to admire how beautiful it felt to be enveloped in her comfort and just...let everything go. I sneaked out my window and walked out of our backyard. There was an abandoned house right behind mine, I spread rumors just so everyone thought, it was either haunted or inhabited, in truth it was my den. Snacks, clothes, comfy blankets, duvets, you name it. It had all I needed to feel better. When I entered my lair I noticed that most of my snacks were empty and the empty packets pristine clean. Oh no, someone had discovered the truth, I turned around only to find a pair of hazel eyes staring back at me, the darkness enveloped him, I couldn't see him, but guessed well enough he was taller than me. I cursed at myself for being stupid enough to enter an abandoned place at night in the middle of a heavy down pour. No, no, no, no. I stepped back I couldn't die like this, not in this shit hole. "Um, hello there. Are you okay? you just seem a little pale" I gaped at him. He had the most alluring voice id ever heard on a man and damn did it mess with my senses. "I won't hurt you, I promise. Look I'm not armed plus I dont even have enough energy to argue right now." He stepped a bit closer enough that I could make out his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. His hazel eyes were a sweet honey brown shade, tanned skin, muscles, tall as frick, and hot too. Holy crap this guy looked straight out of a book. "Hello?". Realizing I'd been gaping at it the whole time it took me second to remember the situation I'd found myself in before I said "Hi, Im Lana" I lied, my name wasnt lana but i wasnt gonna tell some random guy who ate my snacks AND all my blueberry sour candy my name, Im not that dumb. He steps out of the shadows so i could get a proper look at him, and so he could look at me i realize. "Hello Lana, Im Azriel". I looked at him, really looked at him noticed 3 things, 1. He didnt look much older than me, meaning either he was in school or in college, 2. He was wearing my oversized hoodie which looked a little too small on him, and 3. He looked in a bad shape. He had bruises on his face marring his body, burned hands, swollen eye and looked cold, very cold and malnourished. He looked almost......homeless.
I snuck a glance outside.
I silently swore, if this man- Azriel, stayed here any longer he would DIE, either of fever or due to infection. I might already have brought a one way ticket to the deepest darkest pits of hell but doesnt mean he did. Without a thought i spit out "Come to my house". "Im sorry what?" he chuckled out smirking at me as a flush crept over me. "I-I meant that you cant stay here, there's heavy rain and its cold here. pfft that's totally what i meant" i stammer out. Reminder to curl up and die in a corner later on. He furrows his brow at my statement, a hint of amusement on his face. "Haven't you heard of stranger danger Lana?" He pipes out, his voice low and gravelly. "I doubt an 18 year old guy who wears Minnie Mouse hoodies with dora the explorer socks and a pink bow pajamas would try to kidnap me" Okay now this dude was really crossing it for me. Reminder number 2- Drown these clothes in holy water before wearing them again. Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. "I still look better in these than you could ever. But you're smart and these clothes fit me like a fucking tank top and shorts, so yes, Lana, I'll come to your house. Only because Im freezing out here" He added FRICK. FRICK THIS WAS A BAD,BAD IDEA
Azriels POV I stepped out of the shower, steam rising from the hot water. I smelled like lavender soap and vanilla- The scent of real men. I put on the fresh pair of clothes Lana gave me, A little smaller than what i wore but better than those hoodies of hers anyway. I saw her reading a book when i stepped out, no gods not another book-obsessed psycho. She motioned for me to sit down and applied some bandages, honey, and anti-septic cream and gave me some medecine, pain killers i guessed. She seemed to know what she was doing, better than going to a doctor if it meant it was free and she wasn't going- "Who gave you get these" My chain of thoughts are interrupted by her words. "I got myself banged up by a....raccoon?" A raccoon? A RACCOON? Thats the best I could come up with? Telling a girl that i got banged up by a raccoon? She laughs at my answer. It's not a soft melodic sound like i expected but a burst of laughter. She snorts and smirks at me. "Damn, a raccoon huh? Wait,does that mean your're pregnant now?Plus,what? did it tackle you to the ground with its little toe beans? What were you even fighting over, who gets the last thrown out doughnuts from the dumpster, oh, or, did she kick you out of the house instead? You're lovely raccoon wife." She laughs out, barely able to form the sentence without controlling her laughter. I roll my eyes but I cant help smile, I knew very little about this girl but i did know 4 things, 1. She was a terrible liar, introducing herself under a fake name when her name was written under every single one of her drawings, 'y/n' I liked that name, it sounded different yet familiar on my tongue. 2.She might have just saved my life 3. She had a very good taste in candy and 4. we are about to become very, very, very good friends, something I hadn't had in a while. Tell me in the comments if you want to be tagged in the next parts, plus im open to supportive constructive criticism so let me know how i can improve =) taglist: @anarchiii @starlightazriel @velarisdusk @siriuslystyle1989 @scorpioriesling
#my fav fan fics#acotar#azriel#bittersweet love#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel fic
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The Cycling RPF Rec List
for @wtfanworkclassification
(tagging the blogs of the authors I know!!)
1. Favorite smut: a vocabulary, expanding by @strigimorphaes
It’s almost unfair that I made myself choose only one for each category, but yes, if I must, this is The One Smut for me. To put it mildly, it makes me weak in the knees every time I read it. It must have been like five times by now. To be read with the AC on and a glass of water by your side. Gotta love p*rn with feelings.
2. Favorite multi chapter: Faking It by @goingslightlymads
Am I biased when talking about this fic? Yes, because it was one of my Secret Santa gifts. Do I think I am unfair? Nope, not at all! I’ve never had any other experience in Cycling RPF like when I read (scratch that, binged) this one: it made me laugh and cry and it had my heart racing and had me hugging pillows at 3am. What a ride.
3. Favorite Sci-fi AU: jonas vingegaard goes back to the sea by @bakurasilver
Beautiful and clever. A reflection on the meaning of life and love, undercover as sci-fi. Bawled my eyes out with this one.
4. Favorite Fantasy AU: Fierce Creatures by @inbetweenpages
Great world building, incredibly fun and hot. Come here for wouthieu and stay for mathsper friendship, a very mysterious vampire!Jonas and a sentient house.
5. Favorite fluff: Worth it by @ridingupsaturn
Melancholic fluff. My favorite kind of fluff. Read it about ten times and had my heart fluttering through all of them. Love is kind of awesome, isn’t it?
6. Favorite angst: Drought by booming_business (part 2 of the A Study in Water series)
Shoutout to sad carpenter!Jonas who made a complete wreck out of me. The entire series is excellent, but this fic in particular is a masterpiece on its own! Also foundational exes!tadejonas fic before it was even a thing. Groundbreaking!!
7. Favorite drabble: doing what heroes do by @etapereine
I have two favorite types of drabbles: the one in which you feel like you read an entire story in just 100 words and the one that immediately makes you feel in absolute need of a 50k story as a follow-up because of all the possibilities it introduces you to. This one is definitely the second kind. I really need a full Percy Jackson AU long fic on my desk in, like, a week ago. Olympian demigods at the Olympics maybe??? Someone please???
8. Favorite crack/comedy: The 2024 Paris-Roubaix mass heat incident by Anonymous
Top 5 funniest shit I’ve ever read in my life and I’m not even exaggerating.
9. Favorite non-cyclists AU: all hearts in love use their own tongues by @thedeadparrot
I’m sorry, I’m not really a well-studied person when it comes to English literature. This is the only way I could ever read Shakespeare. I regret nothing.
10. Favorite remix/fix-it: Unbelievable, or only in Gotham by Lili_Writes_Banhof
Yes I’m parcial yes of course I am biased because it’s fixing one of my fics, but I don’t care. It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s fluffy (like all the awesome works from this author), you should all immediately go read it!
11. Favorite Soulmate AU: All your life by @interdisciplinary-disaster
I never once had given any thoughts about geese before this fic. Also this is the only cycling fic where the main character is not one of the cyclists, but an adorably exhausted old goose (at least the way I see it, because frankly, what a scene stealer). It changed my core!!
12. Favorite rarepair: Jonas is the boss by @mundanememory
Because ok, now everyone loves Jonas/Matteo but back in April it was a rarepair!! And this fic is awesome and hot and clever and features little big boss being… erm, well treated by a lovable giant ginger, so it deserves a million recs!
#cycling rpf#not here for the maillot scintillement it’s way too far out of reach#i just think these fics need to be read. period.
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If you’ve a lesson to teach me… - AT
professor!alex turner x fem!reader
Warnings: established student/teacher relationship, smut, spanking (with a riding crop), oral (male receiving), tiny bit of face fucking, bdsm undertones, unprotected piv sex, sir kink, alex has tattoos, aftercare, teensy bit of angst but lots of fluff, cuddling.
A/n: this is from a request where reader gets a bad grade and Alex ‘punishes’ her. It’s very smutty, but there’s fluff at the end I promise. Thank you as always to my bestie @martinipoliz who wrote like 25% of this fic and is always putting up with me and my moods, couldn’t do it without her. As always, if you don’t like it, don’t read it :)
Today is the day.
The day that you’ve been dreading all week and wishing it wouldn’t come, but it still has.
Last month, Alex gave your class a task which was due last week, and you had barely submitted it on time. Three minutes before the deadline, you were just so relieved that you finished the essay, but not without receiving a disapproving look from Alex as he took the paper from your hands.
To say that you’re nervous about your grade would be an understatement.
You’re fucking terrified.
It was unlike anything Alex had ever given before, and you’re not going to deny that you did struggle a bit coming to terms with some of the subject matter, so that it took you way too long to finally understand it, and even longer to come up with sentences that didn’t sound like absolute dogshit.
You had even tried asking Alex to maybe help you in some parts but then immediately backtracked when he gave you a stern stare that meant you can do this yourself, and so you accepted your fate and gave everything you could and hoped for a miracle.
And who are you kidding? That miracle did not happen.
Because the essay lands on your desk, a large red B- staring up at you, and suddenly getting swallowed by the ground doesn’t sound too bad at the moment.
For you, a B- isn't necessarily bad, but it’s not as good as you usually do. And you know for certain that Alex is not happy with it, by the way he sighs as he hands you the paper and looks down at you pointedly. He taps the ‘B-’ with one long finger.
“Not quite up to your usual standard, sweetheart.” he mutters, quiet enough just for you to hear, and your ears turn red in embarrassment.
And then he’s off, hurriedly handing out the rest of the papers and giving praise to other students, and your heart sinks. To top it all off, you hear him saying “good job, darling,” to the girl sitting at the front while you got nothing. Not even a mere good job too.
You rifle through the pages of your essay, reading Alex’s comments written in red pen. Most of them are constructive criticism, things that you can improve on quite easily, except for the note at the bottom of the page: ‘SEE ME AFTER CLASS’.
You sit through the rest of the class nervously, hands fidgeting, struggling to keep still. Alex notices your restlessness and sends you a stern look from the front of the class. Your stomach twists and clenches just thinking about what he might have planned for you, it’s making you hot and bothered just thinking about it, as well as incredibly nervous.
Alex has talked about punishment before, it’s come up a few times in the relationship that you’ve been having for the past four months. He’s rather very good at communicating and negotiating stuff with you, telling you to be open to him without feeling any shame, and you did.
You told him about the things you wanted to try out and he listened, nodded, indulged your fantasies without making you feel judged or walking on eggshells. Your confession ranged from giving him full authority over you during sex, to negotiating what kind of punishments you’d be comfortable with when you misbehaved. It seems that conversation will be coming in useful now.
Finally, Alex wraps up the class and dismisses the other students. You slowly pack up your notes and pens, waiting patiently for everyone else to filter out the class before making your way to Alex’s desk.
He’s piling up his papers, the sleeves of his white dress shirt neatly rolled up to the elbows.
When your shadow crosses over his desk, he looks up at you. His eyes are soft, but you can tell he’s disappointed.
“I know it was a hard paper, but I did expect better from you, darling.”
“I tried, Al, I promise, I just -”
“Maybe you need a reminder of how hard you should be working. You don’t get to coast in this class just because you’re fucking me. Handing it in with 3 minutes to go wasn’t acceptable either.” He raises his eyebrow at you before going back to stacking his papers.
You stay quiet, guilt and embarrassment rolling in your stomach. He’s right. You’re usually better than this, maybe you have taken your foot off the pedal the last few weeks. It wasn’t like you to hand in papers late, or struggle to write about a subject that you love. But you had been tired recently, it was getting to that time of year where everyone starts to burn out, you included.
Alex seems to notice your silence. He stops messing with his papers and places one hand on your shoulder, brushing his thumb gently along your skin.
“Look, I am a little disappointed in you, darling, and I admit that I expected better. But don’t mistake my disappointment as me being mad, because it’s different. If I was mad at you, I would’ve already bent you over this desk.” He chuckles at that, and you manage to crack a smile too, a jolt of electricity running through you from the thoughts that that comment incites.
“But, this is just me reminding you that just because I’m your boyfriend, that doesn’t make me any less of your teacher.” Alex squeezes your shoulder and you nod at him, understanding what he’s saying. Because he’s right, Alex is still your teacher, and you want to impress him with your work, not coast through his class.
Alex continues marking papers for a bit while you do some revision, taking your usual spot at the end of his desk. He notices you yawning and losing focus after a while, so he offers to order you an Uber back to his flat. You’re practically living at Alex’s place at the moment, half of your clothes and toiletries are there, and it’s a lot easier to go to and from school from his.
Alex walks you to the pick up point, one hand planted protectively on the small of your back - he’s planning to stay on campus for a little longer to finish marking, as he wants you all to himself when he gets home later.
When the Uber arrives, he grabs the door for you, ushering you into the car while he whispers, “I expect you to be naked and kneeling by the bed when I get back. If not, then you’d find yourself in more trouble than you already are.”
You shiver a little at his words, suspecting there would be some element of punishment involved tonight, but now that Alex has confirmed it, you’re incredibly excited. This is something you’ve wanted for a while, and obviously you didn’t want to do badly on your paper, but maybe something good can come out of it…
When you arrive at Alex’s flat, you manage to have a quick nap in an attempt to calm your nerves.
An hour later, you’re kneeling on the floor, ready and waiting. Your skin is coming out in goosebumps, partly from the cool air on your bare skin, partly from the anticipation of Alex arriving home. You rub your thighs together, trying to create some friction to ease the ache in your cunt. The sound of the door opening and then slamming shut startles you a little, your stomach dropping in excitement as you realise Alex is finally back. You hear him drop his bags in the hallway, then his long strides echo through the house as he makes his way up to the bedroom. The suspense is killing you now, you're practically shaking as you wait in your kneeling position for him. You just hope he’s impressed.
The door swings open and Alex enters, a smirk growing as he takes you in, naked and kneeling for him. You swear you see his pupils dilate, his hands clenched into fists at his side.
“What a sight to see, really,” he comments, leaning down fully and pressing both of his hands on his knees to meet your eyes. “If only I get to see this every day I come home. Would you mind it, darling? Would you mind if I ask you to be in this exact position every day, naked and vulnerable, waiting for your Sir like a good girl?”
You shake your head, then open your mouth to speak. “I wouldn’t, sir.”
“Good. Because it’d be such a shame if you do,” Alex flashes you a smile, leaning forward to peck your lips. “But let’s not forget why you’re currently here in that position now, yeah? Can you tell me? Tell me the reason why I’m punishing you, wanna hear you say it.”
“I –” your lips quiver, gulping down hard. “Because I got a B- on my paper, sir.”
“That’s right,” he nods, now standing up straight and fixing his posture. “And what am I gonna do to you exactly?”
“Straighten me out?”
Alex laughs softly at your reply, bringing one of his hands up to pet your hair gently. It’s a small gesture yet still manages to make your stomach erupt with butterflies. “Not the words I would use, but sure, darling – I’ll straighten you out.”
Alex quickly discards his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, exposing his arms. You feel yourself gush just looking at them, the veins snaking across his pale skin, marred only by the intricate tattoos extending from his wrists up into the sleeves of his shirt. You think about how the patterns curl around his shoulders, spreading into wings across his back, how you trace them so gently when he’s sleeping, admiring the beauty of him.
Alex interrupts your thoughts, opening his wardrobe and rummaging around in there for a bit. You squirm with anticipation, having no idea what your boyfriend might have planned for you, only knowing that it’s going to be intense.
Alex turns round to face you, a menacing grin plastered across his face, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the object in his hands – a long, slim riding crop, the end a double fold of stiff leather. Your eyes widen, your heart racing as you watch Alex tap the end against his hand.
“What do you think of this, baby? Think you can take it?”
You nod again, but Alex needs more this time”
“Need your words for this, love. What’s your colour?”
“G–Green, sir, so green, please.”
Alex smirks. He takes a few strides so he’s standing over you, stroking your hair gently, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm.
“On the bed, baby. You know what to do.”
He points the crop to the king sized bed behind you, following you as you stretch your stiff legs and make your way over. You sink slowly onto the soft mattress, knowing exactly what position Alex wants you in – ass up, face down. You stretch your arms out in front of you to support your head and try to relax your thighs, presenting your bare cunt and ass to Alex. You can hear his breathing quicken as he takes you in – he’s just as excited as you are.
“I want you to count these out for me, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
You feel the bed dip behind you as Alex takes his position, then hear the swoop of the riding crop through the air, then a burning sensation on your left ass cheek. God it hurts, but it feels so good at the same time, sending a jolt right to your cunt as you cry out.
“One, sir.”
He lands another one on your other cheek, you whimper as the burn spreads across your skin, and manage to whisper out a ‘Two, s- -sir.”
“Colour?”
“Green, please keep going Al – Sir, more please.”
Seems like Alex doesn’t like the way you accidentally addressed him by his name, and so two more quick swats land on your cheeks in quick succession. You bite into the pillow, feeling the tears welling up as you muffle your scream. It fucking burns. You’ve always been so used to his hands spanking you but never leather.
“Forgotten how to count already, princess?”
“No – no, Sir, just –” you sniffle, swallowing down the sob threatening to spill. “Three a–and four.”
“What’s that? Let me hear you –” he pauses, you try to look back in confusion, but before you can see what he’s up to, he’s already bringing the riding crop for another lash on your ass – much harder than the last four. “– say it fucking louder!”
“Five!” You scream, burying your face into the mattress and pulling your lower torso away from the sheer pain, but Alex places his hand on your waist to pull you back closer. “F–Five, Sir, that’s – that’s five, please, it hurts –”
“Does it?” Alex mocks. “You know deep down in yourself that you deserve it, so count properly unless you want me to bring the number up.”
You can’t bring yourself up to speak since you’re already shuddering from your sobs, your skin burning in pain, just adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. It was so much, all at once.
You took 5 more strokes from Alex, forcing out the number and a thank you each time, until the 10th blow had you collapsing onto the bed, shuddering and crying.
“Alright, I think that’s enough, yeah, baby?”
Alex places one hand on the small of your back, rubbing up and down your skin in an effort to calm your shaking form.
“You did so well, baby, I’m proud of you.”
Alex’s voice is softer now, and you suspect you’ve got past the worst of the punishment. His words fill you with warmth, and you nod and hiccup into the duvet, reaching one hand back to grab at Alex’s. He intertwines your fingers, letting you find comfort in him for a few moments.
“Good girl. But we aren’t done yet. Need you to make me feel good.”
You roll over, wincing as your raw ass rubs a little on the sheets. You aren’t going to be able to sit down for a few days, that’s for sure.
Alex shuffles to the end of bed and sits back on his heels, beckoning for you to come over, a growing bulge glaring obvious in his navy pants.
You crawl over to Alex, swaying your hips seductively as you move, knowing it will just turn him on even more.
You unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly, your hands shaking a little in your eagerness to please Alex. You’re practically drooling at the thought of his thick cock in your mouth. His fingers card through your hair, gathering it into a ponytail in one hand. He pulls your head back a little from his grip on your hair, until you’re looking up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown from anticipation, his chest heaving up and down under his shirt. God, you wish you could just rip the white fabric off him, run your hands over his shoulders and chest, feel the solid muscle under his smooth, pale skin.
“Slow down, baby, we’ve got all night, yeah?”
You nod your head, taking a few deep breaths before tugging on Alex’s boxers. He helps you pull them down, his cock slipping out, already thick and hard, a dribble of pre-cum leaking from the swollen tip. You wrap one hand around his length, feeling his velvety skin under your fingertips. Alex’s deep groan fills the room as you drop your head to lick slowly along the underside of his cock. His grip tightens on your hair as you suckle gently on the tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum when you flick your tongue over his head. He sucks in a harsh breath, pulling on your hair.
“Don’t tease me now, darling, you’ll just make it worse for yourself.”
You smirk, giving him your best doe eyes, before ducking your head down to try and take him fully into your mouth, feeling his tip hitting the back of your throat and trying to swallow down a gag. You wrap your hand around his base, pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth. You continue looking up at Alex, his face blurring as a film of tears cloud over your eyes.
Alex groans, the deep sound going straight to your cunt and you try to rub your thighs together for a bit of friction, but Alex is quick to put a stop to that.
“Uh uh, darling, none of that. You can have your pleasure when I’m done, alright?”
You just whine around his cock, bobbing your head and taking as much of him as you can. There’s drool dripping down your chin and tears slowly spilling from your eyes. Even after numerous tries, you don’t think there will be a day in your life where you can fully take his whole nine inches down your throat without choking yourself to death – but whatever, that’s one good way to die.
“Fuck – so good baby, so good to me.” Alex pants, hand fisting your hair roughly as his hips buck against your mouth. You choke a little at the action and your own hands go to grip his thighs for support, a trail of spit dripping down your chin and onto the floor as the fat head of his cock hits the back of your throat again. “Yeah, darling, fucking choke on it – take it all, fucking take it all like the good girl you are –”
You moan at his words, feeling his cock throb in your mouth, so hot and heavy on your tongue. He’s close, you can tell, so you hollow your cheeks and suckle fervently on his length, getting Alex to his climax the only thing on your mind. Alex growls and you feel a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his cock, and you peer up at him, confused. A string of saliva still connects your lips to his cock and you can see it twitching in front of your face.
“Want to come in your cunt, darling.” Alex declares in between pants.
You nod your head eagerly. “Please, sir, want your cock, please.”
Alex nods, pushing you back until you’re lying back on the soft pillows. He grabs your wrists and puts them above your head. “These stay here, okay?”
You nod again, although you're desperate to touch Alex, you know it's better to do what he says. The cuddling can come later.
Alex drapes himself over your body, the fabric of his trousers brushing against your skin as he nudges your thighs apart, his hand dropping down to spread your folds.
“Fuck, baby, so wet for me, you just fucking love getting punished, don’t you?” One long finger flicks over your clit, spreading your slick over your hot skin. He’s right, you're soaked, a result of the spanking and having his cock in your mouth, so ready for him to have his way with you. And so is he, you can feel his hard cock pressing against your leg, still sticky from a mix of your saliva and Alex’s precum. You moan as Alex’s two fingers press roughly into your cunt, scissoring and pressing against your walls, trying to find that special spot inside you.
“You’re lucky I’m giving you some prep, baby, bad girls don’t get stretched out before they take my cock. But you’ve done well for me so far, so I’m gonna be generous.” Alex pants into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.
He pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on them. Your eyes widen as his face contorts in bliss, licking all of your juices off of his digits. His eyelashes flutter as he looks down at you, his eyes are dark, lust completely overtaking any semblance of reason.
“Gonna fuck you now, darling.”
You both groan in unison as Alex nudges his cock against your clit, grabbing himself at the base to push slowly inside of you. Despite how wet you are, and the few moments Alex spent stretching you out, there’s still a sharp burn as your walls try to accommodate his girth. He’s hot and heavy, throbbing inside of you, and you swear you can feel every ridge and vein as he slowly bottoms out.
Your whole body is trembling, your eyes rolling back into your head, the feeling of Alex so deep inside you almost enough to send you over the edge right there and then. You clench your fists, trying to keep your hands in the position you left them in, fighting the urge to rip Alex’s shirt off and scratch your nails down his back.
“Look at me, baby, look at me while I’m fucking you.” Alex practically growls, grabbing your chin in his hand and turning your face to him.
“Please move, Al- Sorry, Sir, please move.” The feeling of being full is so overwhelming, you need him to move or you might just combust.
Alex just smirks. “I really don’t think you're in any position to be making demands right now, darling. Remember why you’re here, yeah?”
You just whine and nod your head submissively, trying to keep your gaze on his. He lets you suffer for a few moments before finally moving his hips. He pulls out until just his tip is left snug in your hole, then slams his hip back forwards. You scream as his cock drags along your walls, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and his balls slapping against your still raw ass. Within seconds, the fire in your belly is reignited and you can feel yourself approaching your orgasm. You feel like you've been on the edge the whole night, and now, finally, you might get your release.
Alex pounds into you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his gasps and moans coming in time with his thrusts. You can feel the sweat dripping down his brow onto your chest, the fabric of his shirt rubbing roughly against your nipples. You’re desperate to touch him, to run your hands over his shoulder, his neck, his hair, and you can’t hold it back anymore.
“Please, sir, p–please can I touch you? Please, I need to.”
Alex lifts his head from your neck, one sweaty lock of hair falling over his forehead as he looks down at you. “Oh really? You think you’ve been good enough to touch me?”
“Y–Yes, please, I’ve been a good girl, I have.”
Alex shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Good girls don’t get bad grades, do they?”
You’re truly on the edge now, can feel your orgasm approaching like a runaway train, and you squeeze your eyes shut to try to fend it off, not wanting to come without your arms around Alex.
“You close, baby? Gonna come for me?”
You shake your head desperately. “Please, sir, need to touch you, please.”
“You wanna touch me?” Alex smirks, breathing hard as he drives his cock even deeper, loving the way your walls clench around his length everytime he hits that special spot that never fails to make you fucking shake. “If you wanna touch me, you better cum around my cock and maybe I’ll think about it.”
Now that’s something that’s not very difficult to do. With a sniffle and a loud whimper, you crack open your teary eyes and look at him. He’s watching you very carefully. One of the few things you’ve noticed at the start of your relationship is that he never takes his eyes off of you when you’re cumming – whether it’s around his cock or his fingers or even his mouth, his eyes will always find their way to look at your face as you crumble down from both his generosity and cruelty.
Your vision tunnels to just Alex’s face, his dark eyes, long lashes, pale skin, the little scar under his brow, and you come. The emotions of the past few hours finally catch up with you and you shake and shudder under Alex, clenching and milking him for all he’s worth. He groans and his hips stutter as he reaches his climax as well, a warmth filling you as he empties himself deep inside of you. You sob and bury your face in Alex’s neck, which is damp from sweat. His chain presses against your cheek, cold against your burning skin.
“Fuck, baby, such a good girl, so good for me. Come here, love.”
And finally you move your stiff arms to wrap yourself around Alex, curling your legs around his waist, his softening cock still inside of you. You tug at his shirt, whining into his neck and Alex immediately knows what you want, pulling back for a moment to peel the shirt off his shoulders, flinging it to the other side of the room. His pants are also discarded within moments, until he’s left just as naked as you are. His chest is sweaty and if you aren’t so tired from getting dicked down within an inch of your life, you would’ve taken your time admiring it and maybe leaving a very funny comment that would surely make him laugh.
But unfortunately you don’t have the energy to do all that, you’re sure Alex will understand.
“Tired?” He croons, pressing his hand on your cheek, loving the way it’s burning and still a bit wet from your tears. “You wanna shower, baby? Need your answer here, don’t leave me hanging.”
“No,” you whine, pawing at his shoulder and pulling him closer, purposefully draping his whole body on top of you and putting his head in the crook of your neck. “Stay here.”
You hear him chuckling, his hot breath tickling your neck as his hands then move underneath your back and wrap you up with his body like a big weighted blanket. “You wanna stay like this? All night? You sure I'm not gonna crush you or something?”
“No, you’re warm.”
Based on your short responses and clingy attitude, Alex comes to the conclusion that you’re in one of those moods again. You often get clingy and a bit out of it after a good orgasm, but not entirely in subspace. He would’ve known the tone of your voice if you were, but right now he thinks you’re just a bit floaty, and you think you are too.
“Is there anything you want to do after, baby? Take a bath? Sleep? Order a takeout?”
You don’t know. You’re still very much intoxicated by his scent especially since he’s closer to you than he has been all day. Alex’s aftershave mixed with his sweat is practically making you mewl like a kitten, and you have to stop every urge not to rub your cheeks against him like one.
“How about just lie here for a bit, then take a bath, then order a takeout, then sleep?” You suggest, voice hoarse and raw from getting throatfucked earlier. Wonderful. “And I wanna…” You trail off, a hand snaking up to play with his hair.
“Wanna what?” Even though you don’t see Alex’s face, you can practically visualise in your head that he’s currently holding up his confused expression. Raised eyebrow and all. “You wanna go for another round or something?”
“No!” You giggle, slapping him slightly on the shoulder, which earns a quick nip on your neck and a chuckle from Alex. “Well, not that it’s a problem. But that’s not what I mean.”
“Then what?”
“Wanna apologise.” There it goes. Your voice sounds a bit teary and sad, no doubt Alex picks up on that. “I didn’t… mean to have that kind of grade, you know that. It’s just everything has been stressing me out lately and I haven’t really figured out how to fix it yet. I guess overthinking about making it all better kept me from putting all my focus on that paper. I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”
Alex doesn’t answer for a bit and you think that maybe he’s thinking if your excuse is good enough, but luckily that’s not the case when you feel his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck and up behind your ear. You flinch a little from being ticklish, a giggle spilling out of your mouth.
“I know you will,” Alex finally says, pulling his head back and looking at your face. “I know you’ll do better, sweetheart. You always do. And I love you for that. You know that if there’s something bothering you, you can always just ask me for help, right? I’m not a mind reader, darling, that’s why we need to communicate. I’m not always with you when we’re in school so I have no idea what problems you might be facing, but if there’s something I can do to help, then please tell me. Okay?”
He’s right. He always is.
“Okay. I understand. I love you too,” you give him a smile, now feeling a little shy under his stare as he brushes your hair out of your face. “I’ll tell you about my problems next time. Would you still help me if it was about your subject, though?”
Alex laughs cheekily at your question, leaning down to kiss your nose. “I’ll think about it. Still depends if you’d be willing to give me something in return.”
“Oh yeah?” You quirk an eyebrow, a playful grin making its way on your face. “And what’s that?”
“What do we say about roleplay –”
You push his shoulders before he can even finish his question, barking out a laugh when Alex only scoops his arms underneath your back again and pulling you closer to him.
“Absolutely not!”
#alex turner x reader#alex turner#Arctic monkeys#alex turner fanfic#Alex turner smut#Alex turner imagine#my writing
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Fate has spoken (MK1 Bi-han)
Author's note; reminder this is not lore accurate to the Mortal Kombat universe. I write because they're hot. I also do no have beta reader or i read my fan fic from top to bottom to see any errors. I'm lazy okay.
“Is it true?”
A familiar soft voice appears behind him right after he enters his room upon arriving at the Lin Kuei Clan. Bih-han didn’t move an inch,just standing there not knowing what to respond to her. The light of his life.
“You already heard from the others. There’s nothing for me to tell you”
“I want you to tell me. Say it infront of my face,Bi-han”, her tone is frustrated but with a hint of sadness that she tried to bury.
The Lin Kuei grandmaster clenched his fists. His heart is beating. His heart always beats for her. The stern Bi-han who everyone fears and respects him has always been afraid of her. Her kindness and gentle nature scares him, the thing he fears is losing her.
Bi-han turns around. Her eyes are already on her on edge to cry from betrayal. The eyes that always sees him as human and shows him that kindness still exist in his miserable life, “I took Shang Tsung’s offer for more power…. against the Lin Kuei oaths”
A single tear dropped from her eyes. Bi-han stares at her fighting the urge to touch her “And i let father die”
“How could you,Bi-han. He’s like a father to me!”, all the memories of her with the former grandmaster plays in her mind. He welcomed her and her mother with open arms when he found them living by the street after the death of her own father. She and her mother were given a home to live comfortably by his generosity. “He believed you’ll be a great grandmaster for Lin Kuei!” she hits him in the chest “He believed you can take care of us,Bi-han…”
Bi-han just stood there letting her get her anger out on him “You have betrayed Lin Kuei,your family…. You have betrayed me,Bi-han. It hurts. It hurts so much…” she cries and cries showing her pain to him.
“If you won’t follow my orders as the grandmaster. You can leave”
Her heart skips a beat at his words, she tilts her head up looking into his eyes. His eyes tell he is also in pain, “I do not need you anymore here. Leave the Lin Kuei. I am not like my father. I am a tyrant like they called me”
“Does everything we had mean nothing to you?”
Bi-han stares at her shocked,the question is unexpected. Her voice and eyes are demanding him to tell the truth, “Were every night we had walking together in the forest means nothing to you? Tell me”
“No… all of those we had together does not mean nothing to me”
She takes a step away from him. Taking a deep breath without her eyes leaving him “Say that you love me”
Bi-han heart got more heavy. Somehow he forgot to breathe.
“Say that you love me and then I will leave… letting you go on what you desire in life”
Words stuck in his throat. He just stares at her as she stares at him too. She wants to know if their feelings are equal before they went apart forever, “Tell me,Bi-han”
“I…. i love you very dearly”
She can feel the weight she’s carrying on her shoulders lift up upon hearing his confession. Her heart melts even in this betrayal situation “And i too,love you Bi-han”
Bi-han witnesses her last smile he will ever see. He won’t see the kind smile ever again. She won’t even be by his side for now on. He doesn’t show emotions, he doesn’t want her to see him in weakness. But before he was not afraid to cry, this time was different. Those before she is with him to get through the tough time. Now, she won’t be there to comfort him.
“Goodbye,Bi-han. May you live your ambitions and… live with happiness.Farewell”
With that she left. Forever. Bi-han didn’t call her name or hold her hand to prevent her from leaving. He did nothing. Just standing there.
He stood there for hours. His mind is blank. With a heavy heart he left his room approaching her room. Her room is empty, her mother also cannot be seen. She brought her mother with her too. Bi-han closes the door, he sits in the middle of the room. Her scent is still in the room. He sits there to feel everything that is left in the room until her scent and present are gone forever.
“In every timeline, she still won’t be yours,Bi-han. I am sorry”
Liu Kang had told him that;even in multiple timelines existed, they are not fated to be together.
#mortal kombat#mortal kombat x reader#bi han x reader#bi han x you#sub zero x reader#bi han mk#sub zero
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Hi!
I don’t have any friends irl or online who knows anything about this whole mess of a situation, so I hope you’ll allow me to mull this over here or just scream into the void.
I just find the whole broader context of this whole issue fascinating in a deeply disturbing way. I was going to try to understand why dream acts the way he does, but I think I might drive myself mad doing so. Anyway, I think it’s very apparent the happy go lucky time of progressiveism online is over. Obviously, there has always been bad shit online and marginalised communities have been under fire for a long time. What I’m trying to say is there has been this illusion of progressive attitudes, which has eroded away and people are just saying the quiet part out loud these days.
I don’t know if dream is publicly shifting to draw in a right wing audience or if he completely lacks the ability to empathise with/is too stubborn to recognise other people’s feelings and perspectives. Neither options would surprise me tbh. I could go on, but I don’t want to spoil my evening and your whatever your time time of day is. Idk, weird guy.
Anyway, I hope you are doing well! 2025 have been a lot this far, huh? I watched eternal sunshine of a spotless mind this weekend, which made me read Alexander Pope’s Eloisa to Abelard and I finally got the title to World Forgetting. That fic is my all time favourite fic, so I have no idea why I didn’t look into the title before. That’s on me!
(I hope you’ll allow me the moon as a sign off. lol that reminds me that I need to put my tarot cards in the window just in case the full moon decides to show up)
– 🌕
hello welcome to the anon club!!! I shall call you full moon anon :)
it really is getting scary to see the backwards steps we're taking culturally right now. like with all the social media tech billionaires cozying up to trump and the way people are caring less and less about things like calling others slurs and of course the entire tradwife/hating on feminism/i'm just a girl tiktok bs. but I do try to remind myself that backwards steps like those are usually in response to progress. we've seen a huge positive shift in attitudes towards the queer community over the past decade and a half alongside other social issues like racism and feminism, so it's kind of expected that we were going to swing backwards at some point. the reason this is reassuring though is because it's a reminder that it's cyclical, meaning we will push forward again and make even more progress next time. we just have to (unfortunately) wait this out and keep trying to push forward.
ok now as for dream talk I am going to put this under a read more because I do not need to subject my followers to thoughts on what's going through his head unless they wanna see it
yeah, trying to understand dream's whole thought process here is really enough to give you a migraine. it just doesn't make sense because he is objectively making himself just look like a terrible person to work with to outside ccs (will leak your private dms if you ever have a falling out, might go on a huge essay length twitter rant about you if you ghost him, etc.) while also just annoying everyone who isn't part of his core audience. also, I feel like if you're trying to get a more right wing male audience I don't know if openly discussing how you're autistic is going to help you there given... yknow. how those people tend to be in regards to neurodivergent people. like I could be wrong but to me that just doesn't seem like the best strategy if that's where you're trying to shift.
so I'm inclined to think it's the latter: that he's too stubborn to recognize other people's feelings and perspectives. that seems to be where his head is at when he talks about his gripes with tommy and tubbo, especially when he calls tommy disingenuous for... not having the same opinions he did when he was 16? idk man I don't want to understand dream too much
2025 has been so much though. like what the hell.
BUT YEAHHHHH eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!! I hope you enjoyed that it's literally one of my all time favorite movies. and yeah that line from Eloisa to Abelard just hits so hard both in the context of the movie and just in general, so when I was writing a story about amnesia I knew I wanted to tie it into eternal sunshine somehow
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pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 6 (m)
“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”
🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)
🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst, smut; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au
🍒 Warnings: General tws + the big talk 🫣, mentions of slut-shaming and degradation (not in bed) -> plz lmk if im missing any! | [Smut warnings] protected sex, oral (f.), multiple orgasms, fingering, cum play, cum swallowing
🍒 WC: 12.6k
🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 😻
🍒 Author’s Note: It's always so exciting and saddening when a series ends! It's been over a month since this series started! Special appreciation and thanks to those who have given me feedback and/or were here from the beginning! I really enjoy reading your reactions and analysis!
As I said before, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so this fic holds a special place in my heart for that reason alone. Anyway, thank you again (no this won't be the last time I say it!). Please enjoy the last chapter of "pretty please (stay with me)" 🥹❣️
also read here: AO3 | Wattpad
seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
previous chapter \\ series masterpost // the end
You haven’t stood still in the past hour—buzzing around to everyone in the dressing room to make sure everything is being executed correctly. From last-minute wardrobe alterations to doing makeup and hair touches, you’ve been moving non-stop. Overseeing a fashion show is not easy, or maybe you’re just overthinking the tiniest details.
You aren’t getting a second chance at this, so you want to reduce the possibility of mistakes.
“Everything looks great; take a rest,” Mingyu tells you gently.
You glance up from your clipboard, having printed your to-do list and notes prior. Mingyu stands next to you with a kind smile. Your eyes scan him briefly. You reach forward to fix his outfit for the nth time, but he carefully grabs your wrists.
“It looks fine,” he chuckles.
“Exactly. It looks fine. I need it to be perfect,” you huff.
“You have twenty minutes before the show starts. Let’s go get some fresh air,” he says.
Despite your several headshakes, Mingyu pulls you out of the dressing room and toward the lobby.
“…doing here?”
“You weren’t answering my text or calls. I’d figure you’d be here.”
“We should talk another time.”
You strain your hearing when the voices register in your head. Mingyu glances at you and slows in his steps. From how clear their voices are, you figure Hajun and Seungcheol are around the corner.
“Let’s go out the other way,” Mingyu says, stepping in the other direction. You put a hand on his arm to stop him. You’re too curious to not eavesdrop.
“I’ll be quick,” you hear Hajun say.
Seungcheol sighs. “I already told you over the phone that I didn’t want to be around you when you’re being disrespectful.”
“I know, I know,” she says. “I’m sorry I said all those things to her. I just…I just wanted to look out for you.”
You have no doubt who she’s talking about. If she wants to apologize, she should apologize to you.
“I appreciate the thought, but I’m fine. She’s fine. She’s not as bad as you think,” Seungcheol replies.
“I think you’re just too kind, Cheollie,” she says. “She’s not very nice. She’s not been a good influence on you.”
“That grade wasn’t because of her,” he reasons as if he knows what she’s referring to.
Your eyebrows scrunch at that. What is he talking about? What grade?
“No? Then why have you been so distracted in class? Or why do you show up exhausted?”
“Those have all been my choices, though,” Seungcheol argues.
“Perhaps, but does she know the world doesn’t revolve around her? She should be considerate and stop being so clingy,” Hajun explains.
Maybe if you viewed her neutrally, you would think she genuinely has his best interest at heart. But with how she’s treated you, it’s difficult to believe that.
Mingyu tugs on your arm gently.
“You have ten minutes until showtime,” he whispers in your ear.
You close your eyes, listening to Hajun give more reasons for why you aren’t fit for Seungcheol. You want to stay and hear it all. You want to know if he will keep defending you. However, you’re not about to let all your hard work go to waste.
You nod, tearing yourself away and striding back to the room. You roll your shoulders back, head held high as you channel your attention on doing another round of adjustments.
When it’s three minutes until the show, you discreetly peep your head around the curtains. The theatre is packed, mostly with faces you don’t know. Though on one side, you can see your dad and sister. On the other side, are your new friends. Though the one person you are hoping to see isn’t there.
Seungcheol’s seat is empty.
You know he’s here. You hate how your mind starts forming negative thoughts. Perhaps Hajun has succeeded in making him hate you. Maybe he left with her.
You move away from the curtains and stare at the floor. There’s a tightening in your chest that’s a painful discomfort. After the argument, you were prepared not to see him here. Yet after the brief conversation and learning he had still gotten tickets, hope had risen. Even if it was just a sliver, you wanted to believe you could go back to where you were. Part of you even wished you were blissfully ignorant of his assumptions of you—even though they’re wrong and a “joke” to him.
You have the sudden urge to stand him up tomorrow. You don’t want to see him knowing he was here for you but left with her. However, you need to stop running away. You know you will be happier in the future if you have closure.
Before you can take another glance at the audience, Dr. Lim’s voice sounds.
“Alright, everyone, you’ve all been working hard this semester, and I’m very proud of you all,” he starts, “Remember, you’ll all give a quick introduction of your collection, and then once all your models have walked, you’ll give a final statement.”
You feel a hand on your arm. You turn to see Dae beside you. She’s smiling at you, wiggling your arm as if to say, “We did it!”
You offer a small one, trying to focus on the show again. Too much is going through your mind, and you need to narrow it down.
“You look nervous,” Dae whispers in your ear while Dr. Lim keeps speaking.
“I am, a little,” you answer.
“Don’t worry, I am too. At least we’re done, though. Well, we will be in a few hours,” she giggles.
“Okay, everyone is free to watch from anywhere backstage except for the person on deck. If you’re next, you must be here and ready to go. Everyone ready?”
You nod along with the rest of your class.
“Great, George, you’re first. Siwon, you’re on deck. Don’t forget your order, everyone!”
With that, people start moving. Dae guides you to a corner backstage that has a decent view. It’s angled so you can see your family more than your friends. You crane your neck to check the seats again. This time, two seats are missing. Jeonghan isn’t there anymore. Odd.
“Good evening, all,” Dr. Lim greets as he walks onto the stage. There’s faint music playing in the background, and your heart starts to race knowing there’s no going back now.
“Thank you for coming to support our designers. I am eager to show you the student’s work. Please keep in mind that each student was in charge of their theme, hair, makeup, music, lighting, promotion, and of course, their clothes,” he explains.
“There won’t be an intermission as the show is rather short, so if you need to go, please exit quietly. With that, also please turn off your cellular devices. Now that I’ve rambled long enough, let’s get started!”
The audience claps as the lights dim. You and Dae watch your peers conduct their shows, both commenting on them quietly every so often. The themes range from specific colors, to movies, to holidays. Although you don’t like most of your classmates, it’s nice to see the variety of art being presented. Soon, it’s yours and Dae’s turn. You wish each other good luck before tending to your models.
You’re on deck, going down the line of your models as you listen to Dae’s introduction.
“Hello everyone, I’m Dae, and my collection is titled, ‘Limitless’.”
You smile when you hear a few familiar hollers. You’re glad she befriended all your new friends too.
“My theme is space as I want to learn and grow endlessly. Although our space is dark, I want to be one of the stars that shine.”
Dae’s voice fades out as you continue your inspection.
“Take deep breaths,” Mingyu says when you approach him. You reach up and shift a few pieces of his outfit. He stands still as you do so.
“Thanks,” you murmur. “No funny business out there, okay?”
Mingyu smiles. “Of course. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Good, because I know where you live,” you threaten. It’s meant to be told jokingly, but you both know you’re serious.
“Always so charming,” he laughs.
“So I’ve been told,” you smile and pat his chest. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, Mingyu.”
“I could never say no to showing off my handsome features,” he replies, tilting his chin up with confidence.
“Maybe I should have asked Jeonghan instead,” you tease.
Mingyu scoffs playfully, opening his mouth to reply but stops when Dr. Lim appears.
“Yn, ready?”
You face him and nod. “I’m good to go.”
“Excellent,” he pauses, “It was nice having you in class again. I’m wishing you a bright future. You have talent, and I’m excited to see what you do with it.”
“Thank you, Dr. Lim,” you reply. He gives you a grin before leaving again.
Mingyu’s thumbs raise in encouragement when you glance at him. The small smile you offer fails to hide your nervousness.
“People are going to love your designs,” Mingyu reassures. “Now, go get yourself ready.”
“R-right,” you say.
You make your way to the front of your model’s line as you hear Dae give her ending speech. You want to listen to what she’s saying, but you’re too anxious. You glance at yourself in the mirror that is situated backstage, quickly adjusting the outfit you made yourself.
It’s all red—not because of Seungcheol, you tell yourself, but because you needed to match the fabric Jeonghan had bought you—with the top being covered in rhinestones and fading out. The dress hugs your torso and then flares into a flowy bottom with a slit. Over your neck and shoulder blades is red lace that is attached to the fabric Jeonghan got you, giving you a cape that pools on the floor a little. The space between your dress and the cape shows enough skin to be sexy but not overly so to be inappropriate for a school event.
Although the fabric was meant to be used for one of your model’s outfits, it wasn’t the blue you wanted, and you had already switched your design after Tori took the original from you. You had already planned to make your own dress for the event but hadn’t decided on the design. Since you didn’t want Jeonghan’s fabric to go to waste, you created a design based on it—using your original idea meant for the blue fabric but tweaking it.
Applause erupts, cueing you that you are next. Although you aren’t able to watch Dae’s show, you know Seoah is recording, upon your request, so you can watch it later.
Dae walks backstage as Dr. Lim goes to introduce you.
Dae is beaming, eyes crinkling and mouth open in utter happiness. She goes to you and wraps her arms around you.
“What a rush! That was so fun,” she gushes. “You’re going to do great.”
You return the hug quickly. Her energy bleeds into yours, and your heart races with nervousness. After years of being a spectator of the show, it’s finally your turn to be a participant. You feel all your years at the university have led to this moment.
“Please welcome Yn,” Dr. Lim says.
Dae gives you an encouraging pat on the back before she steps away. You take a moment to inhale a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and stepping out onto the stage.
The stage lights are blinding, making it difficult to see out into the entire crowd. You take the mic from your professor and curl your fingers around the object a little tighter than you should. Your eyes dart across unfamiliar faces as your eyes try to adjust to the lights.
“Good evening. My name is Yn, and my collection is titled, ‘Pinwheel’,” you start, voice wavering to show how anxious you are. As you take a quick second to recollect yourself, your eyes snag on a face you’re keen to see.
Seungcheol.
He didn’t leave.
Normally, you would question why he took so long to be seated, but you’re too jittery with the show. You don’t have the energy. Rather you focus on his eyes. They watch you fondly. His hair is pushed from his face like he put some product in it. You feel honored he dressed up for you.
He tilts his head and stretches his lips into a reassuring smile. Although it makes your heart pump quicker, it also gives you the push you need to continue.
“You’ll see an array of colors and designs that represent the four elements—air, water, earth, and fire. I wanted to try different styles that still coordinated together in some way. I hope you all enjoy,” you continue.
The crowd applauds, and amongst the noise, you can make out a few hollers from your friends. It eases your nervousness as you walk off stage. The lights adjust, and the track Jihoon created begins to play.
You motion for the first model to begin walking. You stay in the same spot as your volunteers ascend the runway. You fall into a rhythm as you time your models. When it comes to Mingyu, you expect him to sneak in a joke. However, his face is set in stone and is serious. You smile softly and lightly touch his arm to signal him.
You glance beyond the curtain to watch him for a second. As Mingyu promised, he doesn’t do anything to ruin your show. If you didn’t know he was a photography major, you would suspect he was an actual model. A goofy part of your brain wonders if he practiced his walk in his apartment.
Two models left and then everyone will do one more walk. That’s all you have left. Despite the already short time of your portion of the show, it feels a lot shorter. Everything has been going well so far. No models slip, your outfits stay intact, and there aren't any technical difficulties.
You appear in front of the audience again as your models finish their last trip around the stage. Your models stay on the stage, allowing the audience to associate the designs with the designer.
“As you’ve heard many times tonight, thank you for coming. This project was challenging, but the reward was worth it. If you have any questions about my collection, please don’t hesitate to ask me after the show. Thank you,” you conclude, giving a bow.
Each clap from the audience chips away at the weight on your shoulders. You can breathe easier knowing that that is it. The project you’ve been waiting to do since before your freshman year has finally come and gone. And gone well nonetheless.
You watch as your friends and family stand, big smiles on all their faces. Although they all mean a lot to you, you can’t help but look for Seungcheol out of all of them.
He stands tall, hands clapping together, with a huge grin on his handsome face. His eyes shine with pride, and you can feel that familiar warmth spreading across your chest again. It feels like you’ve just given your first fashion show as a big-name designer, but in reality, it’s simply a senior project. Seungcheol makes it feel more than it is. And that makes you feel all the more confident.
There are only three more students after you. You and Dae go back to you where you were originally seated, this time accompanied by Mingyu—now dressed in his own clothes. As the show ends, all the students file onto the stage.
“It was a joy to witness the progression of the student’s works. Thank you for another successful show. Seniors, you should all be proud of your work,” Dr. Lim pauses to glance at you all. “Please enjoy the refreshments in the lobby. You’re welcome to mingle and network for at least another hour. Now, please give another round of applause for our talented students.”
The sound fills your chest with a bittersweet feeling as you take your final bow.
“Your designs were gorgeous!” Seoah exclaims when she finds you in the lobby. She runs into you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. Your father comes next, joining in a three-way embrace.
“You did amazing, sweetheart,” he compliments. Your heart is swelling from their kind words. They have seen some of your past designs, but this is different. Even though it’s a school production, it’s still the biggest fashion show you’ve ever been a part of.
“I need you to make me that green one! The one that looked like it was made of leaves and vines. That was my favorite. You get to keep your clothes, right?” Seoah speaks quickly in excitement.
You laugh softly, nodding. “I’m afraid family relations only grant you a five-percent discount.”
“What?” she huffs. “I should get it for free for being the best sister.”
“You’re my only sister,” you argue.
“Which makes me more special!”
“Alright, girls. We can arrange a business deal at home. I’m going to take Seoah to get some ice cream. We’ll see you later,” your father says. You give them each a last hug before waving them goodbye.
You don’t even get a minute break before you feel arms wrap around you.
“I told you you would do great!”
Soonyoung’s loud voice rings in your ear, causing you to flinch. He tears himself from you with a big smile. Your friends gather around in a semicircle, all showering you with praises and words of encouragement. However, like before, one face is missing from the crowd.
“Even though I just met you this semester, I’m proud of you,” Yejun says. You thank him before watching as he leaves to go to Dae. He’s more her friend than yours, but you’re still grateful for his words.
“Does Mingyu get to keep his outfit?” Vernon questions.
You shake your head.
“Good,” Seungkwan chimes in. “He doesn’t deserve such nice clothes.”
“Hey!” Mingyu gasps, offended.
“Excuse me?” an unfamiliar voice interrupts your crowd. All heads turn to see an older woman, dressed professionally. “Yn, right?”
You turn away from your friends to greet the stranger. “Yes, hello.”
“My name’s Park Quinn. I work for a local agency and wanted to give you my contact information. I loved your collection,” she says.
Your eyes widen. “Oh, that’d be great.”
You take the card she gives you.
“I don’t want to take time away from your friends, so please contact me whenever you can. We can try to arrange something if you’re interested.”
You nod, trying not to seem too enthusiastic and eager at the proposal.
“Of course. Thank you, Ms. Park.”
She smiles and then turns away. Before you can dive back into your friend’s bickering, which you can hear faintly in the background, more people come up to greet you. Many of whom you don’t know. Some are prospective students; others are more recruiters.
You’re talking to different people for what feels like ages before the crowd finally slows down. Your friends left a few minutes ago, telling you they’ll arrange a time you can all hang out.
You’re backstage to gather your belongings and clothes when there’s a soft knock on the open door.
“I’m almost done,” you announce, figuring it’s Dr. Lim coming to tell you to hurry so he can lock the theatre.
“Take your time, Cherry.”
Your hands pause in reaching for a garment bag, gaze whizzing to see the person.
Seungcheol stands in the doorway with a small bouquet of flowers. They’re a mix of reds, pinks, and greens. It’s beautiful.
Too nervous about the show earlier, you finally take in his attire. He’s wearing an all-black suit, the undershirt being a turtleneck. You saw his new hairstyle while on stage, but it still surprises you to see it up close.
He looks stunning.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, a little shocked to see him.
He smiles, walking farther into the room. “I wanted to give you these.”
He holds out the bouquet. You stare at it a little too long because Seungcheol starts to chuckle.
“Not the ones you like?” he teases. He begins to set them down on a nearby table, but you stop him. You take it in your free hand, the other occupied with other items.
“They’re pretty,” you reassure. “Thank you.”
He grins when you finally accept them. In exchange, he grabs your belongings from you. You tilt the flowers to your face, breathing in their fresh smell and grinning slightly.
“Your collection was incredible,” he says.
“You think so?” you hum, eyes glancing at the clothes which are hanging in bags.
“The best out there.”
You smile. “You sound a little biased, Seungcheol.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs, “but I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
Silence fills the room as you both stare at each other. His eyes drift to your body. You feel a little shy, and the need to fill the silence grows. You want to ask what took him so long to come into the theatre, but that would mean you were actively looking for him. It would also mean Hajun would most likely be mentioned if he decided to go into detail. That topic could wait until tomorrow. You’re enjoying being able to talk to him like you used to, albeit a little more consciously.
“D-do you like it?” you ask in lieu.
Seungcheol’s eyes move back to yours.
“You made this?” he asks, gesturing to your dress.
You nod.
“You’re very talented,” he praises. “Though that was evident earlier… You look beautiful, Yn.”
Something about hearing your real name from his mouth has the compliment’s meaning more impactful.
“I do?” you ask, shifting your weight.
“I’ve never heard you so doubtful before,” he observes with a gentle grin. “First about your designs, and now about your looks.”
He reaches out to you, and for a split second, you think he’s going to caress your face. Instead, he grazes his fingers over the cape’s fabric.
“You do look pretty,” he hums. His eyes scan the material, gaze softening as if recalling something bittersweet.
“Jeonghan bought it for me,” you state. You’re not sure why you disclose that information. Why does it matter to Seungcheol if Jeonghan gifted the fabric to you? He probably doesn’t care. The air just felt too suffocating to stay silent.
“That’s nice of him,” he mutters before pulling away. Maybe you’re imagining it, but he sounds more monotone than before.
“Y-yeah.”
Another pause.
“Actually, I should probably change out of it. Do you mind?” you ask. You expect him to make a joke of “having seen it all already,” but he doesn’t.
“Oh, yeah. Of c-course,” he answers, turning around.
You wait a few seconds to ensure he isn’t going to peek before finding your bag with your spare clothes. The dress you don is too long to wear outside. You don’t want it to get snagged on anything; plus, you’ll probably get your foot tangled in the fabric in the car later.
You quickly change into a simple dress and sneakers, stuffing your red dress in another garment bag.
“Okay, I’m done,” you announce.
Seungcheol turns slowly. He takes in your new outfit, and if you didn’t squirm and look away, you would’ve spotted the little smile on his lips.
“Do you need help cleaning up?” he asks, glancing around the room. It’s mostly empty. You just need to carry the clothes back to your car.
“You don’t have to stay. Thank you for the flowers,” you say.
“Well, I’m not letting you walk to your car alone,” he replies.
“I’ll be fine. The campus is well-lit.”
Seungcheol eyes you, mouth pursing to tell you he doesn’t care.
You sigh and hold out the bouquet, knowing he isn’t going to leave. “Hold these.”
He does so and watches as you drape the garment bags over a table. You start to dissemble the clothing rack.
“I could’ve done that,” Seungcheol says.
“I’m sure you’re capable, but it’s quicker if I do it. I know how to take it apart,” you reason. You place the pieces in the bag they came in, zipping it and placing the strap on your shoulder.
“Let me,” Seungcheol offers.
“I don’t know,” you say slowly, stepping away. “You look awfully pretty holding those flowers.”
And he does.
His dark clothes and hair contrasting with the bright colors of the flowers, create a pleasing sight.
Upon hearing your teasing tone, he grins. “You look prettier with them, so take them.”
He holds out the object, but you shake your head. You hang the clothes over your arms despite his second protest.
“I need a good view on our walk to my car,” you explain and start to move to the door. He follows reluctantly.
Somehow along the journey, you end up swapping items anyway. You now hold the bouquet, unable to stop taking several whiffs. You can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten flowers before. Maybe one or two, but never a whole bouquet.
Seungcheol packs your car carefully, ensuring he doesn’t accidentally destroy any of your outfits. They’re all protected in bags, but that doesn’t make them invincible.
“Are we still meeting tomorrow?” he asks when you’re seated in your car; your window is rolled down to talk to him. He has one hand resting on the roof of your car as he peers in.
“If you’re still willing to,” you reply.
“I am,” he answers.
“Okay.”
A pause.
“Will you text me when you get home?” he asks.
“You don’t need—”
“Or I can tail you. It’s your choice, Cherry.”
You exhale audibly.
“I’ll text you,” you decide.
He smiles. “I thought so.”
He stands up to leave, telling you a goodbye you barely register as you debate something in your head.
“Wait, Ch-Seungcheol,” you call and peek your head out.
He pauses in his steps to look back.
“Will you… text me when you get home, too?” you ask hesitantly. The question shouldn’t make you nervous, but it does. Maybe because it’s a hint that you still care about him.
The corner of Seungcheol’s mouth rises, a gentle chuckle escaping into the night.
“Yes.”
The simple word has you reflecting your own grin, giving him a final wave as he walks to his car, which is easily visible due to the nearly-empty lot. You wait for him to get into his vehicle before you leave.
You [10:48 PM]: Home.
Choi Seungcheol [10:56 PM]: good
You [10:57 PM]: Are you texting and driving, or are you home as well?
Choi Seungcheol [10:57 PM]: home (:
You [10:58 PM]: Did you forget to tell me?
Choi Seungcheol [10:59 PM]: no i just got home
You [10:59 PM]: Okay.
You [10: 59 PM]: Thank you for coming and for the flowers.
Choi Seungcheol [11:00 PM]: u dont need to thank me. i enjoyed it
You [11:01 PM]: Still… Goodnight, Seungcheol.
Choi Seungcheol [11:01 PM]: sweet dreams cherry
The trek to Seungcheol’s apartment door is grave.
As much as you try to push away the last memories you had here, they’re difficult to ignore. Each step makes the feelings resurface. You just wish this visit won’t end in the same way. His words from that day still sting, but you’re tired of staying in the past. The short interaction with him last night reminds you of how nice it is to be around him when you aren’t fending off his business friends. It spurs the hope you once felt that you could somehow make it work with him.
Seungcheol had messaged you earlier that something had come up and asked to meet at his apartment instead of the café. You were hesitant at first, but he reassured you he wasn’t going to offer a ride. It’s a bit silly that the decision is based on whether he is driving you, but you feel more comfortable knowing you don’t have to rely on him if things go awry.
Seungcheol opens the door with a kind smile.
“Come in,” he greets, stepping to the side.
You move past him and take off your shoes while he shuts and locks the door.
“I’m sorry about the change in plans, I—”
Your scream has him halting.
You hastily push yourself behind Seungcheol, shoving your back against the wall and clutching his shirt roughly.
The abrupt yank on his clothes has Seungcheol stumbling backward. His hands come up to steady himself on the wall, trying not to crush you.
You hold him close to your body as a shield.
“Get it away! Please, Cheol! Make it leave!” you yelp frantically.
“W-what? What’s wrong?!” Seungcheol asks, completely startled by your sudden outburst. He tries to turn to face you, but your strong grip on his shirt limits his range of motion. “It’s only… Oh.”
Seungcheol laughs.
A chorus of “ha’s” that has you hitting his back in frustration.
“Cheol!” you whine when a loud woof sounds in the room.
“I didn’t know you were scared of dogs,” he muses.
In front of Seungcheol is a big, furry dog. The breed is unknown to you, but that’s the least of your worries. You truly don’t give a fuck. You just need it gone.
“Well, I am, so make it go away!” you cry and give his muscular back another thud.
“Okay, okay. Let go, Cherry,” he chuckles. You slowly release him, keeping your body one with the wall.
“Come on, Cho, let’s give Cherry some space,” he says cheerfully to the dog; the pitch is higher than before. Why does the beast get to hear that tone from him?
“It’s staring at me,” you huff, eyes on the animal carefully.
“He’s just interested in you,” Seungcheol chuckles, hand rubbing the dog’s head. He moves away and tries to call the dog to him, but it doesn't listen.
Another yelp comes from your lips when it starts to walk toward you again. Seungcheol kneels down and holds onto its chest instead, almost as if he’s hugging it.
“Go to my bedroom; I’ll be there in a second,” he instructs kindly.
“It’s going to chase me,” you say.
He laughs softly. “I’m holding onto him. You’re safe.”
“Are you sure?” you ask cautiously.
“Yes. Go on,” he smiles encouragingly, nodding in the direction of his room.
Slowly, you push away from the wall. You stay a good distance from the beast in Seungcheol’s arms. As if it wants to tease you, it barks at you. That lights a fire under your ass that makes you break out into a sprint.
You shut his door in a hurry.
You step away from the entry in case the dog decides to knock it down. As you unwind, your eyes scan his room. Nothing has really changed—not that it should’ve. While his bathroom door is ajar, his closet is on full display. You don’t think anything of it, but then your eyes catch on to something red. He has red in his closet, so the color isn’t what intrigues you. What catches your attention is that it’s a dress.
A red dress in Seungcheol’s closet.
You shouldn’t be touching his stuff without his permission, but your hand reaches out on its own. You carefully graze your fingers over the material. The silk is smooth under your touch. It feels good against your skin.
There’s a bag hanging off the hanger. You should stop while you can—snooping never ends well for anyone. Yet, that doesn’t halt your hands from removing the bag and peering inside. It’s empty except for a receipt.
You figure it’s for the dress; however, the name of the place at the top isn’t a clothing store.
It’s a fabric store.
Seungcheol’s door suddenly opens, jolting you from your spot, paper still in hand.
“Are you okay? I would’ve put him in another room if I had known you were scar—”
His eyes fall onto your hand. They grow slightly, and he stands still.
You take the moment to look back at it, scanning the item to try to figure out what it’s for. Before you can examine it for long, it’s pulled from your grasp.
“What’s that for?” you ask as he stuffs it in the pocket of his jeans.
“Nothing. Why are you looking through my stuff?” he questions back. His tone isn’t unkind, but it’s not as cordial as it was before.
You can lie about it, but it was in a bag you deliberately opened. Unless he forgot where he put it, he would know the truth.
“I was curious,” you answer truthfully.
“It’s not polite to look through people’s things,” he scolds and walks to his closet door. He starts to shut it, but you can’t move past the mysterious dress.
“Are you seeing someone?” you wonder. There’s something sharp prodding your heart at the possibility. Perhaps it shouldn’t matter. Maybe you’re just here to mend a broken platonic friendship rather than a romantic one. You were never his to begin with, but something breaks in your chest at the idea of the opportunity being taken from you.
Suddenly, “Are you dating Hajun?”
All those times you pushed him away… Were you pushing him into her arms instead? Is that why he never let go of her? But he didn’t sound like her boyfriend in the theatre’s lobby.
Seungcheol finishes shutting his closet door before he focuses on you. His eyes dance across your face for a moment. You can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“What makes you think that?” he asks. He moves to sit on the bed, patting the space beside him, but you shake your head. You don’t want to be close to him right now.
“The dress,” you trail off, “in your closet.”
He releases a dispirited exhale.
“It’s not hers,” he says.
The grip around your heart loosens an inch but still holds on tightly.
“Hana’s?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Let’s resolve our other issues before we get into another, okay?” he suggests.
Your eyebrows furrow. “So, the dress would cause another issue?”
“Hasn’t it already?” he sighs. “You weren’t meant to see that.”
You scoff, arms crossing. “I would’ve never guessed.”
Seungcheol frowns at your sarcasm.
“We can talk about it later.”
“Why dance around the topic? Just tell me if you’re seeing someone,” you argue.
“Why?” he replies, eyebrow quirking.
“Because—” I want to know if there’s a chance for us. “—that would explain the dress.”
“Just dro—”
“What’s the big deal?”
“It’s—”
“Just tell me.”
“Cherry,” Seungcheol groans.
“Yes or no. It’s simple.”
“No.”
“No, you’re not dating, or no, you don’t want to answer me?”
“No, I’m not dating anyone.”
You narrow your eyes at him. Some relief floods in your chest, but there’s still something odd about the wardrobe addition.
“Then—”
“It’s yours,” he finally huffs out, irritation laced in his tone.
That shuts you up successfully.
“It’s for you,” he sighs, voice softer, and stands up. “Or, it was for you.”
He pulls open his closet and takes the garment off its hanger. He grabs one of your hands and places the item in it. Before you can get a proper grip on it, Seungcheol lets go which forces you to clutch it quickly.
“Wha-What do you mean? I-I didn’t leave this here. I’ve never worn this. I—”
Seungcheol shakes his head. “It’s new. I got it before… before our fight. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”
Your eyes drift to the dress in your hands, lifting it up to see it better. It’s nothing too flashy, but it’s still beautiful with its simplicity.
That pang in your heart comes back but for a different reason.
“You’re not just saying this as an excuse, right?” you ask, the thought bubbling in your mind.
He gently takes the dress from you, laying it out on one side of the bed while guiding you to the other. He sits you down.
“No,” he answers. “I’m telling you the truth. It’s yours if you want it—no strings attached. If not, I can donate it.”
Your eyes move back to the clothing item.
“Why did you get it for me?” you ask and look at him.
Seungcheol rakes a hand through his hair, ears turning a light pink. “I was going to ask you on a date.”
“Y-you were?” you stammer, eyes wide. You’ve always wondered if what he told you while you were crying in his arms was true or if it was all just said in the heat of the moment. Your heart races knowing he meant them. He really did like you then.
“And I was going to ask you to wear this,” he explains, eyes moving from yours.
You continue to stare at him, flabbergasted. His plan was sweet, and part of you feels bad for having ruined it. Though, that wasn’t entirely your fault.
You’re not sure how to respond. You feel utterly honored that he got you a dress for your potential first date with him. However, you don’t know where you stand right now. Unresolved issues still hang in the air.
“Let’s talk about something else, then get back to this, alright?” he tries again.
This time, you nod.
“I know I already apologized, but I truly am sorry for what I said here last time,” he begins.
“Were you really just joking?” you wonder.
“It was a mix, honestly. I was a little shocked at the thought of you never having sex before.”
You frown but try to keep your emotions in control. “Why?”
“Because I’ve heard you’ve gotten around.” He winces as the words come out. You glance in your lap for a second, grabbing the hem of your skirt to play with it.
“From who?”
You aren’t too surprised to hear this information. You have plenty of “enemies” on campus. One of them was bound to start rumors. Hell, you have a few exes that go to the university, so they could’ve spread false information too.
“Several people,” he speaks softly so he doesn’t hurt your feelings. “I actually knew about you before we met at Jeonghan’s.”
“Really?” you question and look at him again.
“Yeah, but I heard about you a lot more when Hajun and Hana realized who you were,” he explains. “I guess their words stuck without me knowing.”
Your lips dip down. “Did you believe them?”
You hold your breath as you wait for his reply. You already have a feeling Hajun and Hana have talked enough shit about you to fill two whole toilets, but their opinion of you isn’t the one that matters.
Seungcheol sighs, gaze drifting from you and then away.
“I’ve never seen you act the way they described, so not completely,” he answers.
“Not completely?” you repeat.
“There was always that thought in the back of my head… Wondering if you just wanted to sleep with me.”
A scoff. “You thought that even when I kept pushing you away at the start?”
“Maybe you were playing hard to get,” he attempts to reason.
“No, I was genuinely annoyed,” you say.
“Ouch,” he frowns.
“Also, need I remind you that you were the one that kept approaching me?” you add.
Seungcheol leans back on one hand, the other running through his hair again.
“I know,” he says. “I think I just heard Hajun and Hana talk so much that the thought was just always there because of them. I never saw the person I heard about… Well, you weren’t always nice, which I also heard.”
You roll your eyes, not truly irritated at his last comment since it isn’t entirely false. “I’m not one to play along if I don’t like you.”
“I’m aware,” he answers, a small smile on his lips.
“Why did you stay friends with them when they said bad things about me?” you question next.
“Like I said that day, I had known them a long time, and we were in a project together.”
You recall his reasoning, but you still want to ask. “That’s it?”
“Why do you think I did it?”
“Because you agreed with their views on me,” then you mutter, “or maybe because you liked Hajun.”
Seungcheol’s eyebrows angle downward. “I’ve never felt anything romantic toward Hajun, and I didn’t believe them.”
“Did it not bother you when they said that stuff?” you ask.
“It did. I really did tell them to stop when you weren’t around,” he answers. “It’s not easy to let go of people you’ve known for years.”
“I beg to differ,” you huff.
“Would you ditch Dae if she spoke badly about me constantly?” he questions.
You tilt your head. “That would mean I have to care about you a lot.”
“Don’t you?” he teases lightly, leaning toward you.
You smile small. “More than her? No.”
“Breaking my heart, Cherry,” he chuckles and pulls away. He inhales deeply and then continues. “I was hoping something would change, and you would all get along.”
“I told you it would never have worked out,” you reply.
“Wishful thinking,” he shrugs.
You nod, moving your gaze again. An important question lingers in your mind. You want to ask, but you’re truly nervous about his answer. At one point, you would’ve found a way for it to work, but now, you don’t know if you can.
“Ask me,” Seungcheol coaxes softly. You glance at him, wondering how he knows you have a question for him.
He chuckles. “I know there’s more running in that pretty head of yours.”
Taking a deep breath, you nod.
“Are you still talking to them?”
He was just talking to Hajun yesterday, so you aren’t going to be surprised if he says yes.
“No, I’m not,” he answers sternly.
That shocks you more.
“Y-you’re not?”
He chuckles, shaking his head.
“I realized I care about you more than I do them,” he says, echoing your earlier words. “I choose you. I’ve always chosen you in the end—even if it didn’t feel like it.“
You’re on the edge of inwardly celebrating. It’s relieving to finally hear he has cut ties with the people who made your life miserable.
“I-I saw you… I mean, I heard you yesterday with Hajun at the theatre,” you confess.
It’s his turn for his eyes to open bigger. “Nothing happened between us.”
“What was she talking about with your grades?” you ask, recalling how she used that against you.
Seungcheol rubs his temples. “I just got a low test score. It really isn’t a big deal.”
“Because of me?” You frown.
“No,” he’s quick to reassure, “it had nothing to do with you.”
“But Hajun said—”
“She was just finding excuses for me not to be there,” he explains. “Her words didn’t mean anything. I’ve gotten low grades before.”
“She seemed serious,” you argue.
“Because she was,” he sighs.
“Do you really think she was looking out for you?”
Seungcheol rubs at the back of his neck. “Sort of, but I also think she was exaggerating things to make you seem worse.”
“I’m sorry if I distracted you from your studies. I should’ve left you alone,” you apologize, averting your gaze.
Seungcheol reaches out to grab one of your hands. You look at him when you feel his touch.
“Even if you tried, I would’ve kept bugging you,” he replies. His words make you feel a little better, but you still feel guilty despite him saying it isn’t your fault.
“Why would you have?” you ask.
He smiles kindly, eyes softening at the thought of his reply.
“Because I liked you and wanted to get to know you more.”
Your face heats at his words, or maybe it’s because your body is tingling with his skin against yours. Regardless, you feel the butterflies awaken in your stomach.
“Do you—do you still,” you trail off, feeling anxious at the question.
“Do I what?” he presses gently. His thumb glides against the top of your hand.
You stare at his floor when you continue slowly, “Do you still like me?”
There’s a moment of silence before you feel his fingers against your chin. He guides you to look at him; he’s staring at you as if he cherishes and adores you.
It’s the same look he had when he was watching both of your friends at the restaurant. It’s difficult to believe he’s giving that gaze to you now.
You can’t tear your eyes from him.
“I like you very much,” he declares confidently.
Your mouth twitches as you try to suppress your smile, but it’s pointless. Your lips stretch until they hurt.
Seungcheol mimics your grin. “Do you like me?”
At one point, you would’ve profusely denied it. You’ve been pushing away those tempting thoughts for so long that you can’t do it anymore. There is something about Seungcheol that you can’t shake off.
It could be the way he always holds the door open for you. It could be that he always takes care of you—carrying you so you won’t hurt your feet, offering his home when you need it, holding your belongings so you have to lift as few fingers as possible. Or perhaps it could be the way he makes you feel like your head is in the clouds.
You always thought you’d want a partner who you didn’t constantly argue with, but you found the light bantering between you two entertaining. Sure, it does get under your skin at times, but you never stay truly mad at him.
Seungcheol makes you feel special. He makes you feel wanted.
He makes you feel loved.
So, with the smile still etched on your face, you answer, “Yes. I like you.”
Seungcheol’s eyes go from quarter moons to waxing crescents. Small wrinkles form as his mouth widens to a gummy smile. The happiness on his face has your heart skipping.
“May I kiss you?” he asks, eyes hopeful.
You nod without hesitation. “Please.”
Seungcheol’s lips still have the same effect as before. It takes your breath away and makes you giddy.
He moves a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until you are nearly on his lap. The position doesn’t offer you much balance since you’re trying not to knee him in the jewels.
You start to pull away when you feel your body slipping off the edge of the mattress.
“Wait, Cheol—” you try to warn, but it’s too late.
You tumble to the floor, dragging him with you.
You both land with a thump as you’re pulled from each other.
Seungcheol’s booming laugh echoes in his room, causing your own stomach to hurt from giggling.
“Are you okay?” he asks between breaths while sitting up. You stand from the floor, straightening out your clothes. He follows you up.
“Yeah,” you reply. “You?”
“I’m fine,” he reassures.
You jump when the dog outside barks at the noise. Seungcheol smiles at you and reaches out to give you a comforting pat.
“Relax, Cherry. Cho isn’t going to hurt you. He’s a big baby,” Seungcheol soothes.
“It didn’t look like one,” you huff, recalling the size of the animal.
Seungcheol guides you back to the bed.
“Do you have any more questions for me?” he asks, easing back into the somber conversation.
You pause as you think. When nothing comes up, you shake your head.
“Do you?” you offer.
“Three,” he answers.
You breathe slowly, preparing yourself for them. “Okay, what’s your first?”
“What else did Hajun tell you by the restroom?” he wonders.
“Oh,” you mumble, not expecting that. You go back to that memory in your head. “A-are you sure you want to know?”
Seungcheol's face grows serious, head nodding curtly.
“She said you left me because I was a slut. She told me you said I was the ‘worst fuck you’ve ever had,’ and she called me worthless,” you pause as Seungcheol’s jaw clenches and eyes narrow. If you weren’t talking about someone else, you would be worried to see such an intense stare.
“She said you were trying to get rid of me, and the only way you could do that was to sleep with me… Since you know, I just need ‘something between my legs to be satisfied’.”
He’s quiet for a moment. Usually, it doesn’t bother you, but combined with his stare makes you shift uncomfortably.
“I didn’t say any of that. I hope you know that. She made that up,” he says, expression easing when he speaks to you. “I wasn’t even going to say anything, but she kept wondering why you weren’t around. I just told her we had a falling out, and that’s it.”
From the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, you believe him.
“I believe you,” you voice aloud.
His once-tensed shoulders relax at your words. “I never wanted you to leave. I never wanted to hurt you. You’re not any of the names she called you.”
“Thanks,” you murmur. Although you’ve been trying to ignore Hajun’s words the past few days, you feel better knowing Seungcheol’s true feelings.
“I’m still sorry,” he says.
“I know. I forgive you,” you respond, hand resting on his thigh.
“You don’t have to. I know what I said was disgusting and rude.”
“It was,” you concur, “but I’m willing to forgive you because I don’t think you mean what you said.”
And now he won’t have those toxic people whispering lies in his ears.
“I don’t,” he repeats. “I think people are intimidated by your confidence. You know what you want, and you know your identity, while some people don’t. It scares them, so they take it out on you. They’re jealous of you.”
“It sounds like you're buttering my biscuits, Mr. Choi,” you hum as you listen to him analyze the people who dislike you.
“I’m just being honest,” he says, a slight frown on his lips.
“I appreciate it,” you reply more earnestly. You’re grateful he confirmed he didn’t think those negative thoughts about you. You feel you can circle around the topic for hours, so you ask for the second question.
“Do you like Jeonghan?” Seungcheol asks.
That takes you by surprise. “No, why do you ask?”
You almost laugh at the idea of dating Jeonghan, but you refrain from it. You don’t want Seungcheol to think his question is stupid even if it is.
“You two just seem close,” he says.
“I tolerate him more,” you explain. “I only like you. Now, next question.”
“Wait, I want to make sure you don’t like hi—Hmph!”
Your lips meet his to stop his sentence. He melts quickly against your mouth, a hand reaching out to your waist. You pull away before it can go any further.
“I would never kiss Jeonghan like that,” you smile.
Seungcheol grimaces at the image you put in his head. “That doesn’t mean you don’t like him.”
“So, I would like that fool, but not kiss him?” you wonder. “Okay. Then I like you, but we can’t kiss anymore.”
“What?” he asks, startled.
“If I can like Jeonghan and not kiss him, then I can like you and not kiss you.”
The corner of Seungcheol’s mouth pushes down. His lips purse slightly when he speaks, “Alright, I get it. I believe you. Kiss me.”
“No,” you say defiantly.
“If you like me, then you’ll kiss me,” he explains.
“But you just said—”
“I lied. You have to kiss the people you like,” he corrects quickly, leaning toward you.
“Is that so?” you ask, a mischievous smirk forming on your lips.
Not having a good feeling with the look on your face, Seungcheol sulks, “You only like me, so that means you can only kiss me.”
You smile at hearing his dragged-out words.
“Is that the rule?” you tease.
“Yes,” he huffs.
“Then I guess I can kiss you,” you say. However, you don’t move from your spot.
Seungcheol fusses, “Now, baby.”
“Oh,” you giggle. “Fine.”
You move in closer, smiling when he meets you halfway. The kiss doesn’t last long as you pull away to ask for his third question.
His tongue darts across his bottom lip as he stares at you. His gaze is solemn, and you mentally prepare yourself for what he has to ask.
“It hurt me to know I caused you pain,” he starts slowly. “I never wanted you to think I believed the rumors about you, but I guess they had an effect on me that I wasn’t conscious of. I regretted everything I told you that day the second it came from my mouth. I was so desperate to fix my mistakes that I didn’t take the moment to think.”
You watch him intently. Each word is taken in with great care, trying to push aside the initial feelings of anger and hurt to hear him objectively.
“I know I made a mistake by keeping them my friends for so long. I just wanted things to work out, and I wanted you all to see the good in each other. I know that sounds a little cliché, but it’s true… Maybe I just didn’t want to choose between you all,” he pauses to take a breath.
“Though, most of all, I wanted to know you more. Despite not having the best first impression, I realized quickly you weren’t what people made you out to be. Along the way, I started to see you as more than a friend, but I had trouble finding the right moment to see things through. Then I fucked it up, and I didn’t think I could fix it… but you’re here now. And we’ve talked things through.”
You nod to show you understand what he’s saying.
“So, where do we stand?” he finally asks.
“I’m sure we could go around each other for days, but I’m ready to move on. I was fully prepared to never talk to you again, but I couldn’t,” you stop gradually, not sure if you want to disclose your next thoughts.
“You couldn’t talk to me?” he asks, confused.
Sighing, “No. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Oh,” he replies, a small smile on his lips.
“Don’t get too happy now. They weren’t all good thoughts.”
“I know,” his smile faltering, “but there were some good ones?”
“Yeah… There were good ones too,” you reply softly.
Seungcheol takes your hands in his, shuffling closer.
“What were they about?” he ponders.
You squeeze his hands. “Your smile.”
At your answer, his lips begin to lift again.
“How you held me,” you continue.
Seungcheol takes that as an invitation to push you back against his pillows. You smile, raising your arms to wrap around his neck as he presses his body against yours. One of his hands snakes under your back while the other rests on the mattress so he doesn’t squish you completely.
“How you kissed me,” you whisper.
The man above you grins wider, pecking your lips tenderly. You chase his lips, and he grants you a lingering kiss before pulling away.
“And most importantly, how you made me feel.”
Seungcheol rubs your back gently. “And how did I make you feel?”
“Like I was yours,” you murmur as your face warms at the confession.
“Will you be mine? Officially?” he asks, gaze darting back and forth between your eyes.
You wonder if he can feel your racing heart against his chest.
“Yes,” you say. “Officially.”
He chuckles, pressing his mouth on yours as if to really make it official.
Your mouths move languidly. You can feel his hair fall around your face, tickling your cheeks. Smiling, you tuck the strands behind his ears and then keep your palms cupping his cheeks.
When you adjust a leg to wrap around his lower back, he moves the hand under you to rub your bare thigh—exposed by your skirt. His hand trails up and down your skin for a moment until it goes lower. He grabs your ass, massaging it over your panties. His lips slip from yours to kiss along your jawline until he finds your neck. You have no doubt that you’ll end up having to hide a purple mark later.
Both your clothes are off in a matter of seconds. Seungcheol’s hands move across your body, exploring each bump and crevice as if it’s his first time. However, you’re no different. You feel like you’ve touched every part of him, yet you still want more.
Your soft moans fill the room when he scatters kisses down your body before latching his mouth on your clit. His hair quickly becomes tangled as you grab it. Your hips roll against his face, chest rising and falling as you get closer to your high.
His fingers accompany his mouth, pumping and scissoring in your wet hole. His raspy voice sounds sexy as he praises you when you come, but his moans are sexier. His eyes are hooded, drinking up everything you give him until you lax on his mattress.
You don’t even realize he put away your new red dress and slipped on a condom until a dip in the bed catches your attention. Your vision is coming back to you gradually. Seeing Seungcheol with messy hair and his lower face covered in your juices has you pouncing on him.
His laughter rings out, grabbing your face and slotting his mouth against yours while you straddle him. You don’t care that you can taste yourself on his tongue. You just need him to fill you.
You slide your dripping folds along his thick length, making sure it’s coated so he can sink into you easily. And easy it is.
Both your sighs and strangled moans permeate his room. You stare down at him, mouth open as you move your hips. His brows meet; he’s trying to control his breathing. Each drag of his cock against your walls feels heavenly. Although the pace is similar to the first time, it feels different. There’s more meaning with every circle and rock of your hips. Maybe you’re making it up all in your head, but when Seungcheol pulls you down on top of him to hold you as he begins to thrust his hips up, you know you aren’t.
The way he kisses you tells you he feels the same.
There’s less desperation in his movements now. You don’t have to worry about this being the last time. You don’t have to worry about him hooking up with another person. He isn’t available to anyone anymore. He’s loyal. He’s kind.
He’s yours.
Your legs press against his sides, a loud cry tearing from your throat as he pushes you over the edge. Your walls flutter around his cock that’s still gliding inside you.
“Just for me,” he pants. “You’re just for me.”
You nod, spewing a variation of agreements as you cling to him. Your body rubs against his while he keeps thrusting up. Mewls fall from your mouth as you start to become overstimulated.
Seungcheol coos in your ear, telling you he’s close and that you’re a good girl for letting him use you for his pleasure. His hips stutter each time you clench your walls around him.
By the time Seungcheol pulls out, you are a moaning mess. He flips you over, pulls off the condom, then comes onto your stomach and breasts. You’re sure the sight arouses Seungcheol as he fixates on your body.
His fingers run through his seed, spreading it more across your skin. His tongue darts out against your breast. You watch as he trails the wet muscle along your skin, his cum gathering on it until it’s full. Before you understand what he’s doing, he brings his mouth to yours. You open your mouth, greedily drinking what he’s giving to you. You don’t even stop to think how filthy the act is.
Even though you can tell Seungcheol is spent, he still cleans you with a damp towel before snuggling back in bed. You both fall into slumber a few minutes after.
You wake to a sudden cold breeze.
Whining in your sleep, you roll over to snuggle closer to Seungcheol; however, you’re met with empty space. You peel your eyes open reluctantly, leaning up on an elbow to see where he is.
Seungcheol sits on the edge of the bed with a sweatshirt and sweatpants over his body.
You crawl closer until he’s in arm's reach.
“Where are you going?” you murmur as you snake your arms around his wide frame.
He jolts at your abrupt touch but quickly relaxes once he realizes it’s you. He places his arms over yours, craning his neck to see you.
He pecks your lips. “I have to go walk Cho.”
“Can’t it wait?” you ask.
“He,” Seungcheol corrects, to which you roll your eyes. “And unless you want to clean his pee or poop, then no.”
He carefully pulls your arms from around him and stands, leaving you shivering as the cold air hits your bare body.
Seungcheol pauses by the bed when his eyes see your naked torso.
“You do make it hard to leave, though,” he sighs.
You smile and put a hand out for him to grab. He does, and you instantly tug him back onto the bed.
You kiss him quickly, bringing his hands to your chest, covering them so he can’t move away.
“Stay,” you say between kisses.
“Baby,” he protests while squeezing your breasts. His lips purse every time you lean in for another kiss. You grin in hopes you’re convincing him.
“I have,” a kiss, “to go,” a second kiss, “walk the dog.”
You finally stop your torrent of smooches to pout at him.
He chuckles at your expression. “You’re welcome to join.”
“I rather not get mauled,” you scoff and try to pull him closer, but he resists you this time.
“Why are you scared of them?” he wonders.
“I got attacked by one as a kid, and they never are friendly to me.”
“My poor baby,” he coos as he brushes your cheek. “Don’t worry, Cho is really sweet. Why don’t you meet him? Let him sniff you and then I’ll go walk him quickly.”
You shake your head frantically. “I don’t want it—him anywhere near me.”
“I promise you’ll be fine, but I understand. Maybe another time, okay?” he replies.
You nod and let your arms fall when he pushes off the bed.
“I’ll just be a few minutes,” he informs while walking to the door.
“Okay,” you mutter and pull the covers over your body. He smiles at you before pushing open the door. Your body freezes when you see black fur at the entrance.
“Hey, sweet boy,” Seungcheol greets the animal happily. He stops the dog from coming inside the room, giving him a few pats and ruffles of the fur before easing him backward. “No, she’s not ready to say hi yet. Come on, let’s go out. You wanna go for a walk?”
Your body relaxes at hearing Seungcheol’s light voice. You’ve never heard it before, and you realize there’s still more to learn about the man.
The door shuts softly. The last thing you see is the dog jumping excitedly as he runs out of view. You hear Seungcheol laugh.
It dawns on you that you don’t know when he got the animal. He definitely wasn’t here the last time you were here. Does this mean you’ll have to stop coming to his apartment now? He spoke highly of the dog, and you trusted Seungcheol to keep you safe, but animals can be unpredictable. Still, you can tell how much Seungcheol likes him.
As instructed, Seungcheol comes back ten minutes later.
“So, how much did you miss me?” he teases while raking a hand through his hair. He takes off his sweatshirt, giving your eyes something to stare at as he walks toward you.
You stop him when he begins to climb into the bed. “Wait.”
“Did something happen while I was gone?” he questions, playfulness replaced with concern.
“No, I just,” you breathe in slowly, “I’d like to meet your dog.”
His eyes grow. “There’s no pressure to do so.”
“I don’t want to be run off by your dog anytime I come here,” you grumble. “Just a quick sniff; that’s all he gets.”
Seungcheol laughs and raises a hand to rub circles against your back. “I forgot to tell you that Cho isn’t mine. My brother had an emergency and needed me to look after him for a few days.”
“Oh,” you hum.
“So, you want to come back here?” he asks, recalling that part of your sentence.
“If you want me here,” you bashfully answer.
He leans down to kiss your forehead, easing your nerves.
“You can come over whenever you want,” he offers. “I would prefer it actually.”
“Why?”
You expect a sweet response, but instead, he just smirks and says, “Because I need someone to clean the place.”
You scoff, smacking at his chest and rolling your eyes.
“Kidding, kidding,” he laughs. He grabs your hand when you go to hit him again. He tugs you closer for a playful kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. “Do you still want to meet Cho?”
“Are you sure he won’t bite off my hand?” you ask.
“I’m sure,” he replies confidently.
Hesitantly, you nod. “Okay then.”
Seungcheol smiles and leaves you with a kiss on the cheek. Like before, the dog greets Seungcheol as soon as the door opens. His tail is wagging, and his mouth is open as he breathes.
“Cherry wants to say hello,” he tells the dog, slowly guiding the animal closer to the bed. Your body is rigid, and you clutch the sheets to your chest. You just hope this isn’t going to be your end.
“Sit,” Seungcheol commands. You watch as Cho does so.
“Okay, hold out your hand, palm down. Yes, just like that. Breathe, baby, it’s okay,” Seungcheol instructs you softly. You glance away but quickly look back. Maybe you can pull your hand away quickly enough before he chomps.
The dog leans his head close, nose wiggling as he sniffs your hand. The few seconds it takes feels like half an hour. Suddenly, the dog’s tongue sticks out. The act coats your hand in slobber, and you screech as you tug your hand to your chest hastily, thinking he bit you.
“It’s okay, Cherry. You’re okay,” Seungcheol soothes you, sitting on the bed. He puts the dog between his legs as he rubs your arm softly. You pull your hand back, sighing with relief when you see it still intact.
“Cho just licked you,” Seungcheol explains.
“S-sorry,” you say, eyes searching for the dog. He sits staring up at Seungcheol with his tail wagging. The pet isn’t lunging at Seungcheol or nibbling off his flesh.
“It’s okay. You did good, baby,” Seungcheol praises, giving you a kiss on the cheek as a reward. “I’m going to take him out, okay?”
You place a hand on his arm. “Has he ever bit you?”
Seungcheol glances at Cho and shakes his head. He gives the pup a loving head rub. “He’s just a big baby. He’s well-behaved. He’s even good with kids.”
“Has he ever bit your brother?”
“I don’t believe so,” he replies.
You peer down at Cho once more. You’re still scared of him, but seeing how much he likes being around Seungcheol, you feel a little bad kicking him out again; especially, since he doesn’t have anybody out there to keep him company.
“H-he can stay if he doesn’t come close to me,” you say cautiously.
“He’ll be fine out, it’s okay,” Seungcheol reassures.
“I trust what you say about him. He seems… okay.”
Seungcheol grins, slowly letting the dog go before climbing into bed. “He is.”
The dog stands, shakes out his fur, and then does something that has you clutching onto Seungcheol. Cho jumps on the bed.
“Oh god, he’s going to eat me,” you cry. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your body, pulling you close. He rubs your arm tenderly.
“No, he’s not,” he laughs. You watch as the dog walks around himself once before plopping down. Luckily, he’s on Seungcheol’s side. Cho rests his head on the bed, watching you both. His tail wags a little, but not as much as before.
“He just wanted to sleep up here. Is that okay?” Seungcheol asks you.
“You let him up here?” you question, knowing some people don’t like their pets on their beds.
Seungcheol shrugs. “The covers are dirty anyway. Might as well let him have a comfy place to nap. Speaking of, do you want to stay the night?”
“That’d be nice,” you smile at him.
You reach for the purse you brought when you first ran from Cho. You tap on your phone to see it’s nearly four in the evening. You didn’t realize how long it’s been since you arrived at eleven.
“Unfortunately, I’m not the best cook, so we may have to do takeout,” Seungcheol says shyly.
You giggle, sending a quick message to your sister that you won’t be home tonight.
“I can cook,” you offer.
Seungcheol looks at you sadly, hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Actually, I only have ramen. I haven’t gotten groceries yet.”
“Oh. I like ramen,” you reply and put your phone down once Seoah replies. Your phone keeps buzzing as she tries to get more information from you, but you simply put the device on Do Not Disturb and place it back in your bag.
“I wanted to treat you to something better than ramen,” Seungcheol says. There’s a faint frown on his lips.
“I don’t mind,” you reassure. “Now, can we sleep a little longer?”
You carefully guide Seungcheol down until his back hits the mattress. After pulling the covers over the both of you, you snuggle against his body.
“I guess I don’t have a choice,” he chuckles as he lets you lay him down. He holds you close, eyes staring at the ceiling as he rubs your back.
“Hm.” You close your eyes, letting the gentle rise and fall of his chest hypnotize you.
“Baby?” Seungcheol asks. You’re on the verge of sleep, but you hum again to let him know you heard him.
“Will you go on a date with me?”
You smile, forcing your eyes open to peer at him. “Can I still wear the dress you got me?”
“You can wear whatever you want, Cherry.”
“Can I pick out an outfit for you, too?” you ask.
“While you have great fashion sense, I’m not sure—” he stops when you begin to plead with your eyes.
“Fuck,” he curses more to himself.
“Please, Cheol?” you ask, voice soft and lips pouting.
“You know I’ll eventually become immune to this, right?” he grumbles.
The way he words it makes it seem like you’ll be around long enough for that possibility to occur. You nuzzle closer at the thought.
“Maybe, but right now you’re not,” you smile wickedly. “What do you say?”
“Fine, alright,” he caves.
You lean up, giving him a big kiss as a thank you. He hums against your mouth. You feel his hands go south, but you quickly stop him.
“It’s sleepy time, not sexy time,” you scold light-heartedly when you pull away.
Seungcheol sighs dramatically but yields. “Hurry and sleep then.”
“You’re not going to run away, are you?” You narrow your eyes.
“Never,” Seungcheol smiles down at you.
Your gaze lingers on his eyes, quickly scanning his face. Finally, you let your mind wander freely. You let yourself indulge in how comfortable you feel around him. You don’t have to ignore those illusions you had produced, nor do you have to convince yourself that you only see him as a friend. You can fulfill those fantasies little by little. You don’t have to hide from your emotions. You already feel lighter at letting go of those conflicting thoughts.
Although Seungcheol jokes about keeping you around to clean, you wind up doing it without being asked. You suppose he knows you won’t be able to handle the clutter.
You’re picking up his discarded jeans when something flutters to the floor when you do so. You bend down to grab it.
It’s the receipt from earlier.
While Seungcheol is in the bathroom, you finally have the chance to examine it.
You notice the fabric store name, having only been there a few times since it isn’t local. Your eyes trail down to the item's name. Although it’s a shortened version of the name, you know what it is.
That brat.
The sound of the bathroom door opening has your eyes snapping up and hand lowering to your side.
“Why did Jeonghan lie to me?” you ask him before he can take two full steps.
Seungcheol looks at you, head tilting and eyebrows knitting.
“What did he lie about?” he questions.
“He didn’t buy that fabric for me,” you scoff and hold out the receipt. “You did.”
Seungcheol’s gaze drops to the paper in your hand. He releases a small exhale.
“It’s not a big deal,” he replies.
“You always say that,” you huff. Your eyes fall back to the receipt, glancing at the price. That makes more sense as to how Jeonghan got it.
“Because it’s true,” he says. He moves to stand in front of you. He carefully takes the receipt from your hand. “I just wanted to give you something you wanted.”
“Why? How’d you even know?”
He folds the paper as he answers, “Dae mentioned it at dinner that one time and Jeonghan told me about it.”
“You didn’t answer the first part,” you call out.
He chuckles softly. “That’s because it should be obvious. It’s because I liked you… I still do.”
“You can like me without buying me expensive things,” you reason.
“I know,” he says. His eyes fall down to the sweater that you wear—it’s his. Your legs are bare and have ankle socks on. “But I still wanted to. So, deal with it, Cherry.”
He gives you a smile before walking away and into the living room. You follow, still weary of Cho and huddling against Seungcheol if he gets too close.
“Hey, wait, you didn’t tell me why Jeonghan lied to me.”
Seungcheol takes two glasses from a cabinet and then shuffles to the fridge. “I asked him to.”
“You? He didn’t steal it or something?” Although you know Jeonghan likes to con others, he isn’t one to steal. Yet, you still want to ask since the whole situation puzzles you.
He laughs, filling the cups with ice as he replies, “No, he’s not like that. I wanted you to have it before the show, but I knew you wouldn’t take it after our fight.”
“You let me think he got it for me,” you state; your lips begin to dip down as you ponder on the thought.
You remember feeling so thankful to Jeonghan for getting it for you. There’s a pang of guilt knowing you were thanking the wrong person. You finally understand the look on Jeonghan’s face when he gifted it to you.
Seungcheol sets the glasses on the counter, grabbing your chin gently to make you look at him. His fingers are chilly, but they feel good against your warm skin.
“I’m just glad you used it, baby,” he says kindly. He lets go of your chin with a smile.
“Cheol,” you call, a hand reaching out for his bicep. He pauses in turning back to the fridge.
Once he is staring at you, you speak, “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t the blue you wanted. It was out of stock, and it would’ve taken too long to ship,” he explains.
You shake your head. “It was perfect. I liked the red more.”
Seungcheol smiles, though one side is lifted as if it’s a borderline smirk.
“I did too. Red looks good on you,” he compliments. One that takes you back to that cursed poetry lounge night. It was the first time he called you Cherry, and you called him Cheol. The first time you were alone with him for longer than fifteen minutes. The first time your body reacted in ways that went beyond the line of friendship.
“So I’ve been told,” you murmur.
“Have you?” he teases. “Whoever said that must be really smart.”
“Yeah, sure—” you begin, only to jump and knock into Seungcheol when Cho unexpectedly rubs his nose against your leg.
Seungcheol’s laugh doesn’t drown out the sound of your thudding heart in your ears, but at least it offers some (annoying) comfort. Cho is going to take some getting used to.
previous chapter \\ series masterpost // the end
A/N: Although the series is over, I would love to continue writing this couple in the future! Please look forward to some bonus scenes... Perhaps from Cheol's POV? My ask box is open for any questions or comments about this series! Thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭 omg *trying not to freak out that it's over* (also wattpad says this fic's read time is 6 hours and 11 minutes LOLOLOLOL... nice 😅 but if you're a slow reader like me, that time is prob way more haha. this being said, ty for ur time while reading!)
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Fates Edged On A Blade - Prologue Part One
A/N: Hello 🤗 This is my first time writing a fic for Bad Omens after a lot of thinking if I really should give it a chance and post this, so please bare with me as I will try to write them as best as I can 😅 Also English isn't my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors.
I want to give a huge shoutout to @veronicaphoenix! Thanks to your incredible story I couldn't get samurai!Noah out of my head and wanted/ had to write my own story about him 😍❤️
Originally it was supposed to be one chapter but due to it getting too long for only one entire part, I decided to cut it into two. So the second half will be coming your way soon!
There's a part in here and in the next one that will probably not be everyone's cup of tea but even if it's not, please give the story a chance, as this is only the Prologue and the real story will begin in Chapter 1! 🙏❤️
I hope you enjoy reading! 💕
Warnings: Fluff, Some slight Angst & Sexual tension if you squint, Mentions about the loss of parents, Allusions to a forbidden relationship
Word Count: 10.8k
kami = japanese for 'gods'
The early morning sun rose on the horizon, its first rays stretching across the land we knew today as the deepest part of Asia and bathing everything in a golden glow.
It was in a day and age where myths and legends were real and not just some kind of fiction – but not everyone believed in it… brushing them of as ‘child fantasies’ or ‘old tales in books’.
Among these people was a 26 year old man, slicing his katana with deadly precision through the air, every of his moves a testament to his self-control and years of very hard, dedicated training. Which had earned him the highest rank in the emperor’s army and his rightful position as the best samurai he was known for in the entire realm.
He loved the quiet mornings, when it was just him alone on the training grounds or sometimes when he felt like it, a walk through the nature surrounding the castle - it helped to center himself and his thoughts. Especially on occasions like today, the princess’ birthday. He had to make sure everything was perfect.
But the universe would soon proof that some things were simply out of his control. He just didn’t know yet.
He was in the middle of doing a combination of slashes and swings with his long, razor-sharp sword when a soft gasp that would have been inaudible for anyone else, halted his movements instantly.
The tingling feeling in his body had already given away her presence long before she made the mistake of making a sound and revealing herself. He didn’t even need to look to know she was there but he wasn’t about to call her out on it.
But he couldn’t deny the curiosity building within him - How long had she exactly been here? What was she thinking seeing him like this? Why was she even here this early?
“Haven’t I taught you to not expose yourself to the enemy, princess?” His deep voice rang across the training ground loud and clear in a chiding manner, yet with a playful edge. Naked, fully tattooed back still facing her and on full display for her eyes to explore every inch.
There was a moment of silence, not in an uncomfortable way, but laden with curiosity and anticipation.
“And haven’t I told you to not call me that… Noah?” Her words brought a small smile to his face. The way she tried to hide that she had been caught, tried to hide the slight wavering of her delicate voice from him when she wanted to sound accusatory instead. These little actions made her all the more cuter for him. Not that he would ever let her know. But he would allow himself to bath in this moment for now while it lasted. Letting those butterflies go wild for a second who seemed to have manifested themselves in his belly for a while.
“And… you know- it’s not nice to watch someone without their knowledge.” Noah replied unbothered, completely ignoring what she said but still keeping his playful tone.
“I wasn’t watching you!” She had come out of her previous hiding place to face him, arms propped up on both sides of her waist in defiance. Now that he had detected her it was useless anyways. It was a stupid idea to begin with. But she wouldn’t let him see that.
“Whatever you say, Y/N.” His chuckle erupting goosebumps on her skin. She could never get enough of hearing him laugh, just like his voice in general.
Noah lowered his katana and loosened his stance, turning around to her fully. His auburn eyes locking on her instantly, not missing the way hers widened for a moment at the sight of him and his exposed upper body before averting them up quickly to meet his.
“You… uhm… You cut your hair…” Her observation from before left her in a breathless whisper, trying not to stutter and giving away how she felt about his new style. She didn’t think her heart could beat faster but right now it was racing and a fire was spreading through her that made it harder and harder to not crumble under his gaze.
“Oh, yeah… They got kind of annoying and I felt like I needed a change, so I decided to cut them. Do you… like it?” It sounded almost a little bit shy how it came out and he was internally already chastising himself. He didn’t want her to know how nervous he really was about the topic and what her answer would be. Looking at it, it was actually pathetic for him to even be nervous about something so insignificant. He was a samurai, he shouldn’t care about any of this. And yet he couldn’t help himself.
Y/N felt even more heat rushing to her cheeks from following Noah’s movements. How he expertly sheathed his katana without needing to look, to then rub up and down the back of his also tattooed neck with his other hand. He unconsciously did the one thing always making her weak to the knees. If Noah only had a clue how he looked like this, especially now with the short hair of his it was a whole different thing. She was praying to every kami above that he couldn’t see how flustered he had made her with only his presence. How was she supposed to answer his question when he had literally stolen all air out of her lungs? Was there even a suitable answer that would do justice for what she got graced to witness this early morning?
Noah was always the confident one, no matter the situation but to see him getting all shy and nervous about such a little thing made her feel so many things and she wished she could treasure this precious moment between them forever, burn it into her memory so she would never forget. The way his cheeks dusted in a slight shade of pink, how the light of dawn hit him in every perfect angle and bathed him in an ethereal golden glow, looking like it created a halo around him and illuminating every little detail on his body from his eyes down to all the different, delicate pieces of art decorating his front and arms as well - like a painting with his entire body as canvas and so many different details you didn’t know where to look first but together they blended into a perfect picture. It was a sight to behold.
“Please be honest with me, did you like my long hair more?” He was fully aware of her stare but he brushed it off as a reaction because she had never seen him half naked before. Taking her hesitation as a bad sign.
“It’s… different. But I’m sure everyone loves it.” She answered carefully after finding her ability to speak again.
“So you don’t like them…” He concluded, his stomach twisting in an uncomfortable knot. Face falling slightly.
“I didn’t say that.” Y/N replied immediately, not wanting him to make a false assumption but leaving room for interpretation. Maybe a bit too quickly.
The words made his heart skip a beat and brought the smile back to his lips. It was all the confirmation he needed.
“I see… Would you tell me if I asked nicely, my princess?” She would literally do anything he said without question, he wouldn’t even have to ask. He wanted her to fall on her knees and pray to him like he was the only god in existence? Yes. Yes, she would in an instant. She would even scream his name over and over to the heavens and for everyone else to hear if that’s what he wanted. But that was a secret she would take with her to the grave.
Noah’s gaze seemed to intensify and Y/N had to swallow a lump in her throat, shifting a little in her position. Clearly caught off-guard by the sudden turn in their conversation and his attention on her, like a predator watching his prey just waiting for the right moment to strike. She could have sworn his eyes had darkened a tone too.
“I think you’ve already gotten your answer.” It took her a lot of effort to keep her voice steady. She could feel a tension growing between them and she was sure it wasn’t lost on Noah. He was too smart to not notice with his senses sharp like his blade he carried with him all the time.
“I guess I did.” His tone was deep, not revealing any emotion behind it. But if his widening smirk was any indicator, he had what he wanted.
With a few strides thanks to his long legs, he crossed the distance between them, coming to a stand and towering over her with his height. Everyone else would have been intimidated in Y/N’s position with the most feared samurai right in front of them but Y/N’s heart beat only wilder in her chest at their proximity. She could feel the heat radiating off his smooth skin.
“But I have to apologize,” He spoke up again. “I haven’t congratulated m- the birthday girl yet.”
Noah hoped she hadn’t noticed his little slip up and observed closely how the expression of her face went from confusion to realization. For not a mere second, he was sure, something else had been there in between. He just couldn’t digest what it was because it was gone before he had a real chance to figure it out. God, what he would give to look into her thoughts right now.
Y/N was sure she stopped breathing when Noah went the rest of the way and hugged her. Breathing out a soft “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” and reveling in the feeling of her small body against his. She equally enjoyed how his strong arms were holding her and how perfectly she fit against him.
“Thank you. And don’t you dare apologize. You know you don’t have to do this.” Her soft chuckle was music to his ears.
“But I want to.” Despite not wanting to end their embrace and letting go of her, he retreated himself a bit after a few moments of them just holding each other so he could look into her beautiful, sparkling eyes again that always captivated him when he looked at her. Wanting to show her the honesty behind his words even if both of them already had known that she knew.
They were only inches apart, eyes glued to each other for a long moment before Noah worked up the courage to cross the dangerous line which always had been between them. Between two friends who grew and were raised alongside each other but different as day and night.
The emperor had raised him like his own son even if he wasn’t but he saw the potential in him to become the greatest samurai the entire realm had ever seen the day he met him as a young boy that had lost his parents. It was enough for Y/N’s father to take Noah under his wing and teach him the way of the samurai – Bushido, so one day he could step into the emperor’s footsteps; not so much as a ruler but as a warrior everyone would treat like he was a born king too and would fear when they even heard of his name. On the battlefield or not.
He was a weapon, sharpened to perfection and trained to cut out the deceases of their land without mercy and without question. It included those, who claimed to have committed their actions because of a ‘god’ they believed in or a long forgotten ‘myth’ whose knowledge was actually forbidden. The emperor himself made sure to drill this way – his way - of thinking over the course of Noah’s young adulthood in the boy’s head.
Telling him “There are no gods, Noah. All these myths they are talking about are only made-up child stories who never existed and their so called ‘legends’ are just another form of their lies. Don’t believe those lost souls, my child.”
When he was old enough and became a samurai, his codex left no room but to swear strict loyalty to the crown and so he never questioned anything the emperor said like he really would have been his son by blood.
Y/N on the other hand was raised by her mother, the empress. The kind woman allowed her to explore everything she wanted freely, to build herself her own picture of things and have an open mind for everything around her – much to the dismay of her father, who wanted to raise her like Noah and shape both of their worlds like his. But Y/N’s curiosity and good heart won over her father’s will and her mother did her best to support her, making her the princess she was today.
The same girl that stood before the six foot three tall samurai she knew from a young age who had always been her best friend and she trusted with her life despite knowing what he was capable of and how much death he could bring if he wanted to. There was never a single moment where she was afraid of him because she knew, no matter what, before he would hurt her, he would rather hurt himself or worse. He would absolutely NEVER ever raise a hand against her or would get violent. Noah would never forgive himself if he would hurt even a tiny hair on her body.
She was there from the beginning, had been the center of his world ever since and at the same time his anker he could pull himself to if he needed. So the closeness between them wasn’t as much of a problem and it didn’t matter if they were seen together a lot of the time when Noah wasn’t away to whatever place Y/N’s father had sent him to carry out his will. At least as long as they didn’t do anything inappropriate according to their tight friendship.
Like Noah was about to.
Very slowly and so careful Y/N had never seen him before, he inched closer and closer to her face, giving her enough time to pull away if she didn’t want this but he couldn’t resist any longer. He wanted to taste her lips so badly, wanted to know if they felt as perfect as he had imagined them so many nights. Next to other way more sinful things he wished he could do, things he would get killed for if they were caught. But he didn’t know any better way to die.
And if she felt even the slightest bit like him, then he would gladly take that risk as long as he could. Y/N was the only person he would make an exception for when it came to the codex he swore to live by. She was more important than everything else, hell, even more than his own life and anyone that dared to lay a hand on her or treated her the wrong way would pay with his life. He would personally make sure of that.
He kept his onyx eyes fixated on hers until their foreheads lightly touched, looking for any sign of uncertainty but when he found none after a second of intensely observing her, Noah allowed himself to close his eyes and let their heads rest against each other. A faint sigh filling the silence between them. Both of their hearts literally beating out of their chests at the small contact they shared.
Neither of them cared how long they were standing like this, the outside world having faded away, leaving them in their own where only they existed.
Y/N felt Noah’s heavy breath on her face and she was wondering how much restraint it cost him to hold himself back like this. But on the other hand his self-control and patience was something else and she knew better than to question it now. He could wait a lifetime if he needed and it wouldn’t bother him. So she took matters into her own hands and decided to make the next tiny step forward, not sure when or if Noah would do it. Slightly opening her eyes while she stood a bit on her tiptoes to even out their height a little and brushing her nose against his. Soft chuckles escaping both of them at the action.
Their mouths were so close now, breathing in the air trapped between them and almost feeling the lips of the other. The morning sun in the background casting an array of gold, pink, orange and a tiny pinch of purple and blue on them to pay tribute to the sacred moment unfolding with her as a silent witness.
Noah’s patience was running out – as much as control he possessed – but he couldn’t wait any longer, more than ready to break the invisible boundary before them. He didn’t care for the consequences in this very moment. What would happen if they were caught. What it meant for both of them.
Neither paid Y/N any thought to it as she was eagerly waiting for Noah to give her what she had been craving for such a long time that these seconds felt like pure torture he was putting her through right now. Couldn’t he see she was suffocating without him? That she needed him to breathe?
It was like the world was holding its breath, slowing time to a standstill only for them.
Leaning his head slightly to get a better angle to kiss her while she mirrored him, he willed every ounce of his last self-control he had left to last only for this moment so he wouldn’t hungrily devour her right here. Fuck, nothing had ever been so hard than these few grueling seconds with an anticipation nearly making him explode.
Right when Noah wanted to relieve them, their lips practically touching but still this damned last little inch away, a voice suddenly sliced through the silence. Bursting their bubble instantly and suffocating both, swallowing all emotions which had just been there with it.
“Princess Y/N! I’m surprised to see you up already this early in the morning!” Out of all people in the castle it had to be the one person who shouldn’t have been there.
The emperor’s advisor. Yuan.
A man in his 40’s with short, dark grey hair and a heart of stone. Y/N liked to compare him to the snake tattooed on the front of Noah’s throat. She was convinced if he wasn’t a human he would have been one instead. At least she could practically hear the venom coating his words every time he opened his mouth and every time she secretly hoped he would suffocate on it.
“Fuck!” Noah let out silently and whipped abruptly his head away and took a step back, hastily looking for his black top laying forgotten somewhere on the ground. Praying internally that they hadn’t been caught. Especially by this peace of shit of a man. He hated him with every fiber of his being just like Y/N because this man seemed to hate her equally, trying to point out her flaws or mistakes she made in front of the emperor, or just to make her look bad in general in the eyes of her father, only because she was different and with a heart of gold, he had sworn to himself he would protect with his life, even from her father if he had to. For Noah she was perfect, there wasn’t a simple thing he would change about her and even if there would be, he wouldn’t care. It wouldn’t change his feelings for her. Or so he had thought…
“Advisor! I didn’t expect your presence at this time either.” The princess turned around to him with a fake smile on her face, not allowing herself one last glance at Noah in fear of revealing what nearly had taken place before he had to destroy everything. Just like he always did.
“What a coincidence! You have to forgive me my surprise to see you also have company.” He faked a laugh, examining the princess and the samurai like a hawk for anything suspicious. Not hiding the distaste when his eyes roamed over Noah’s tattoos on his bare arms before they landed back on Y/N.
“I asked Noah to take a walk with me when I met him here because I couldn’t sleep. It seems like we had the same problem.” Y/N pressed out as nicely as she could, still trying desperately to calm her racing pulse. It was half the truth but he didn’t need to know which part. It wasn’t his concern anyway.
The looming presence of Noah’s tall frame behind her didn’t help the situation, his body heat still radiating off him in waves even through his clothes he had managed to put back on in time and she was sure he was struggling with containing himself to not make a mistake he’d regret later.
“I see. But I have to disagree, you know I always do my morning walk. I simply decided to go earlier since I was already awake. It’s good to have your eyes and ears everywhere, you never know where the enemy could be lurking. And we don’t want anyone to ruin the princess’ birthday now, do we? I’m guessing that is the reason you couldn’t sleep?” The man stood there like he was the emperor himself, still eyeing the two up and down and if Noah wouldn’t have been there, Y/N would have felt intimidated by how his icy blue eyes were boring into her.
“How mindful of you. My father can truly consider himself lucky to have someone like you as his advisor.” She answered back, not meaning a word coming out of her mouth. Then turning halfway in Noah’s direction who had been standing still like a statue the entire time behind her like the protector he had sworn to be for her, giving him a court nod to signal him it was their time to leave which he instantly responded to as if he had been waiting like a guard dog for his next command.
“It was nice meeting you, but I’m afraid we have to take our leave as the princess wants to lay back down and get some more rest so she is ready for today.” Noah spoke up, no emotion in his face or voice but his dark eyes fixated on the man opposite him, battling with the desire to slice his katana over the man’s throat or cut off his head altogether to finally get rid of him.
Even if him and Y/N hadn’t any physical contact, he still had felt how uncomfortable this man had made her feel by just looking at her. Enough reason for Noah of wanting to do something about it. But of course this snake stood in the emperor’s favor and so he was unable to do anything if he didn’t want to end up dead or wanted to damage his reputation.
One day he would make a mistake and until then he would patiently wait like a hunter for his prey and when the right moment came, he would strike and he would savor every second he would get with him. There would be no mercy. Just like this man didn’t know any mercy for anyone else.
“Of course, nothing would be further from my mind than to keep the princess from her sleep. Have a good rest, princess Y/N.” The emperor’s advisor bowed formally which she answered with an acknowledging nod in his direction before she and Noah started moving. Motioning for her with his inked hand to walk in front of him while he took a long, dark glance behind them, still eyeing the figure of the emperor’s advisor wearily walking in the opposite direction until he was out of his sight.
He felt his boiling anger slowly subsiding with every step he took, all his senses hyper fixating on the person walking right in front of him whose presence was calming him down. But not the wildfire which was still burning inside of him and he was sure he wasn’t the only one feeling this way.
Later in the evening…
Y/N
Safe to say I didn’t get any sleep at all after what had happened in the morning. The memory of it still vivid and fresh in my mind like it just had taken place, the moment between Noah and me on constant repeat.
I’ve sat in my chambers the whole day, ever since Noah had brought me back here. My head running in circles and my feet burning holes into the ground. We didn’t exchange a single word on the walk back but I felt his eyes literally burying into me. If he wouldn’t have been the most trusted person in my life I actually would have thought he was about to kill me.
When we had reached my rooms I blankly stared at the huge white doors decorated with golden, traditional, japanese ornaments lining their frames not knowing what to do. Noah had come to a stand behind me, way too close than he should. His uneven breath tickling the hairs on my neck and I swear I was about to faint if he kept going like this.
My hands were shaking as I reached for the doorknob, not from fear but from the unknown intensity between us. Trying to grip it hard enough so I wouldn’t slip before I somehow managed to push it open and willed my body to keep going.
I didn’t know what I expected to happen. Once we were in a safe place where he could literally do whatever he wanted to me without anyone’s notice.
“S-stay?” The word left my mouth unconsciously with a dangerous wavering in my voice, not yet daring a look behind me where I could still feel Noah’s presence that took up the entire space.
There was something akin to a faint, very low, dark chuckle penetrating the eerie silence between us, giving me goosebumps all over.
I was too caught up in the thrill and excitement of this new dynamic between us to notice he had moved in front of me. Only when he took a step towards me did I register his change in position and looked up to him with widening eyes. How did he get there so fast?
Noah had an ominous glint in his eyes, the usual warm brown in them having been almost swallowed whole by a sea of vast darkness. A promise to what was to come.
A shiver ran through me and when he took another step forward I instinctively responded with taking one back, my body moving on its own. The right corner of his mouth turning upwards at the motion. He was clearly enjoying this right now.
It went on until I had nowhere to go and he had backed me up against the wall next to the doors we had went through not a minute ago. Another thought hitting me when they appeared in the corner of my sight. When did he close them and why didn’t I notice it? But then, I hadn’t seen him walking around me either.
What then followed nearly had brought my heart to a complete standstill.
As soon as my back collided with the solid material behind me, his arms were to the left and right side of my head, positioning his large body as close as possible against my front and creating a wall to keep me trapped. I had to admit, it scared the shit out of me because I hadn’t expected him to do something like this but at the same time it sent something hot down my core.
Our eyes had stayed locked onto each other the entire time of our dance, not able to resist the magnetic pull and not wanting to either. I felt like I was exploring a whole new side of Noah no one had ever seen before, not even me. So many emotions swimming in the depths of his beautiful orbs and a vulnerability he had never exposed to anyone, allowing me a look into his soul at his true self. The man who had claimed my heart, who had become my biggest weakness. Noah was so much more for me than he thought he was.
Taking him in like this up close was still absolutely breathtaking, even if it couldn’t compare to before but I made sure I committed every little detail to my memory in case it was the only chance I got. His plump, rosy lips practically tempting me to kiss them, the curve of his nose, the perfect shape of his face with the sharp line of his cheekbones and his completely cut short, dark brown hair accentuating his face even more now. He was a walking sin. My sin.
There was a sense of déjà vu in how we stared at each other without the need to speak, our bodies doing it instead and I was kinda thankful for it because this man always made me speechless. Especially now.
I could feel it in every nerve when Noah decided to lean in and inch his way forward yet again but faster this time, the desire and hunger he couldn’t hold back anymore written all over him. The thread he had been hanging on about to snap together with his relentless self-control and I wasn’t going to make him wait any longer, lifting my chin to better meet him.
My breath caught in my throat when he was finally about to take what always had been his, ready to claim it as his own. Eyes closing and awaiting him eagerly to kiss me for the first time, letting me experience how he felt and tasted.
When his hot breath tickled my nose I knew he was right there but instead of joining our lips, I felt them on my forehead after another beat had passed by. Confused I opened my eyes and searched his, finding them already looking back at me with the same intensity then before. What was happening?
Before my mind could get consumed with a thousand questions about what was going on and why he didn’t do what we both clearly wanted, his deep voice sent me into a cathartic state.
“Tonight I’m all yours.”
And then he left.
Leaving behind a haunting sensation of his lips on my skin.
I don’t know how long I stood there blankly staring into nothing and not moving at all. It was like my body was stuck between shutting down and a paralysis taking over me, my brain having vanished together with him too. There were no thoughts, only pure emptiness – white noise.
I’m not sure if I had even felt my body at that point, I was just… there. Noah’s last words really starting to sink in only hours later when I was capable of functioning again.
Since then I had done nothing. The silence hanging heavy in my room like I was choked by a hand around my throat and I was at a point where I wanted to beg for someone to relieve me.
As if my silent prayers were heard, a knock caught my attention. The unexpected noise pulling me out of my head. It didn’t take long until my thoughts started racing again tho. What if it was Noah? Did he decide to come back?
My hopes were crushed as fast as they arose when someone else stepped in.
“I’m sorry I’m not the one you expected, my princess.”
“Hm?” I guess my neutral face wasn’t as convincing as I thought. “No, no. Just surprised to see you, is all.”
It was Ruen, my mother’s right hand and soldier, as well as one of the few people commanding my father’s army. Fully dressed in his usual full black armor with silver details on the front and along his shoulders together with his long cape around his back reaching to the ground. He was also a man of middle age around his 40’s with short, dark brown curls that were shaven at the sides and kept slightly longer at the front. He always was more of a father to me than my own.
“And I know when I’m not wanted.” He chuckled lightheartedly.
“Why are you here anyway?” I quickly changed the topic, meeting his kind, dark eyes.
“Your mother sent me. She wanted to make sure you’re alright but I’m mostly here to come and get you because your favorite part of the day is about to start.” At the information slight panic started to rise inside me. I had completely forgotten the time, still wearing the clothes from this morning and nowhere near ready to go.
“I won’t be ready in time…” I groaned, dragging my hands over my face.
“They are not gonna start without you, princess.”
“And father is gonna kill me if I’m late! Also stop being formal, there’s no need, Ruen.” Frantically I began to rush around, taking a first stop at my large wardrobe to comb through the variety of clothes until I found what I was searching for without losing too much time. It was a tradition by now that I always wore my special red kimono on this day, a birthday gift I had gotten from Noah years ago and ever since then I made sure to wear it every year.
The kimono was ‘special’ in the sense that it was not entirely traditional. The fabric was a bit wider, not as tight as it normally would be and also had a hood attached but it was still shaped like a normal one, at least till my waistline. Darker red flower designs made of little red and black crystals shining through the bright red color. The bottom half flaring out into various soft stripes, mixed with some other fabrics also accentuated with tiny red sequins running along them in a thin line. Underneath was a thin layer of a little bit see-through, pure red colored fabric to cover up my skin but you could also wear a hakama with it if you wanted.
“Let it be my and your mother’s problem. This is your special day and he’s not going to ruin it, Y/N. Also, can I help you with anything? Do you need me to get someone?” He waited patiently in the middle of the room, left hand comfortably resting on the sword attached to his side and looking in the direction I had just vanished into another room and making sure to speak louder so I could hear him.
“No, thanks. I think I got it.” I answered back while I got undressed and changed. “I really appreciate your help but we both know he doesn’t care. Father is only doing this because of me and I can be thankful he allows it even if he doesn’t like it. I don’t want to add to it.”
“You are like your mother.”
“Sometimes I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.” I exhaled, walking back to him when I was fully changed and finished quickly braiding my hair.
“Y/N, don’t say something like this. It isn’t your fault he can’t see what a wonderful and talented daughter he has. I’ve seen how hard you’ve been training with Noah and the other boys and how much heart you put into everything you’re doing. He should be proud of you.” A scowl formed on Ruen’s face at my confession, coming towards me and laying his hands on my shoulders.
“Why can’t you be my father instead?” My arms reached around his middle, leaning myself into him and enjoying our embrace when he reciprocated the gesture.
“I’m always here if you need me.” His arms around my back tightened their hold on me, gently pressing me against his broad frame.
I couldn’t help but feel that our conversation was more than it let on, his words seeming to carry a deeper depth with them. It wasn’t a surprise, considering our familiar relationship because of my mother and him treating me like a father since I was a child, so I didn’t think too much into it.
“We should get going.” Ruen announced after a few beats had gone by, retreating from me and giving me a warm smile.
“Can we stop by the boys first?” I sheepishly questioned.
“I had a feeling you would ask. Come on then.” His smile spread into a knowing grin, gesturing with his head towards the door.
Not wasting any more time, we took off with Ruen leading the way and me following behind. A warm feeling starting to grow in my belly at the prospect of seeing Noah again but there was also a nervousness I couldn’t shake.
Leaving the huge castle behind us, towering high into the sky with its immaculate white walls and multiple black, triangle shaped rooftops layered above each other, we reached the larger section of the training grounds next to the one I had met Noah this morning.
This part of the castle was entirely for the soldiers, divided into two parts. The first one was mainly used to train their combat skills or practice fighting techniques. The second had been built for our horses which was the reason why it was bigger, so they had enough room for riding or training to use them in battle. However, some of us used it for something a little bit different… like today.
As we neared the place, I could make out multiple silhouettes moving around in different kinds of speed and in different directions. The volume of their voices and laugher filling the air and making a smile spread across my face.
Ruen opened the entrance to the fenced place shaped in a rectangular form to let me in first before he closed it behind him. Our arrival was spotted in a matter of seconds and I could see their heads turning in our direction one after the other before they came over.
“The princess is alive!” Nick shouted excitedly, throwing his arms up in the air when he galloped towards me with his chestnut colored horse before he abruptly stopped a few feet away.
“What do you mean?” I nervously laughed at his comment.
“We thought we wouldn’t see you at all today.” Jolly answered for him, positioning his dark brown horse on Nick’s right side when he had reached us.
“They’ve been practically talking about nothing else. And happy birthday, Y/N.” Nicholas was the third one to arrive, taking the empty spot on the other side of Nick. His horse a shade darker than Jolly’s and built a bit stronger.
“Yeah, happy birthday to our beloved princess Y/N!” Nick chimed in and everyone around me joined his words.
“You are ridiculous but thank you.” The nervousness increased slightly when I heard they had been thinking about me being gone all day. It should have been obvious they would wonder about the reason because it wasn’t my usual behavior to not show myself or stop by them at least once. At the same time my attention was drawn to the absence of the last person from our little friend group.
“Where’s Noah?”
I was sure I had counted four people when we approached but now I couldn’t see him, trying to look past them but finding nothing but empty space. A pit starting to form in my stomach when there was no trace of him. Was he avoiding me? He must have noticed us…
“You should be careful with him. He’s in a weird mood today.” Nicholas’ voice brought me back, making my eyebrows knit together in confusion about the more serious tone and expression overtaking him when he looked at me.
“Weird mood?” I repeated surprised and tried to hide the spike of anxiety. Did he regret what happened? Had we really been caught?
“He made us go through our parts at least a hundred times today!” Nick grumbled beside his friend.
“He’s a perfectionist. He just wants everything to go as planned.” I retorted, stating the obvious. It wasn’t unnatural for Noah. Whatever he did, he always wanted it to be perfect and worked so hard until he was satisfied with the result, mostly overdoing himself. But he was too stubborn to admit that to himself. Maybe he got too much into his head and was overthinking the performance they were about to show and I was worrying for no reason.
“If you wanna try your luck, he’s back there.” Jolly pointed over his shoulder and whipped his head to the place in the back hidden behind them.
“He won’t bite my head off.” I let out with a scoff, not letting it stop me to search for the lost samurai.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that!” Nick’s joke echoed behind me before I was out of reach, leaving me with an uncomfortable feeling.
Noah’s figure was shrouded by the dark of night like he belonged in it, a dangerous shadow lurking within, avoiding the faint glow of the torches having been lit around the grounds of the castle and instead staying in the safe embrace of the darkness surrounding him as if he was a bad omen.
The enigmatic aura in the air a warning for the personified death itself.
And I was willingly following his call, not scared to find my own end through his hands so if it was his will.
The nearer I came, the more the shadows engulfing him revealed to me and my pulse accelerated like it always did when we were together. Noah didn’t seem to be aware of me yet but you could easily be fooled. I had done this mistake and had fallen right into his trap without even knowing like he had wanted me to when I had thought he hadn’t noticed me secretly watching him train, standing there in the light of the morning sun as I walked by. His tall, dark appearance a stark contrast to the golden light spreading around him. Only noticing when it was already too late and he had me in his grip. The one I never wanted him to let go of.
I was about to announce myself before I hesitated last second, suddenly not so sure anymore if I should do it or not considering his friends’ warnings. Maybe he wanted to be alone and I should leave him be but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to know if he was okay. If we were okay.
He walked another circle with his raven black horse when an almost shy “Hey.” left my lips. Something seemed to shift instantly in him and his head whipped around the moment I had dared to speak, halting his horse on the spot.
His eyes going wide while taking in my full appearance, roaming freely across my body and making me blush under his gaze what he thankfully couldn’t see – or so I prayed.
It looked like he took in his surroundings for the first time, scanning the environment to probably assure himself that we were on our own before he spoke.
“Hey.”
The softness his gorgeous voice carried made my insides melt and all the nervousness was gone right then and there. I felt so dumb in this moment, I shouldn’t have worried in the first place.
“For a second I thought you were ignoring me.” It was meant to tease him, having no doubt now that he didn’t do it on purpose. Keeping my tone light so he wouldn’t misunderstand but apparently he did.
“I would never ignore you!” Noah shot out right after, multiple emotions crossing his face, mostly surprise and was there fear for a blink of a second? Did I actually manage to make Noah nervous?
“The others would tend to disagree, I guess – not that I thought you would. They warned me about you.” I told him honestly.
“They’ve been pestering me the whole day…” He answered with a long sigh, looking into the distance at the mention of what seemed to be an uncomfortable topic for him, showing me a glimpse of his annoyance but swiftly covering it with changing the subject in his favor yet again. “By the way… you look absolutely beautiful, Y/N.”
I hated how easily he could distract me from the main topic and change what we were talking about from one second to the other so effortlessly. Taking control of the conversation and where it was going, not telling me what was bothering him.
“Are you okay?” Even though I was flattered by his compliment, my concern overshadowed the butterflies he had summoned. I didn’t like when he was hiding his emotions from me and wasn’t talking to me about what was going on inside him. It irritated me especially now, thinking we would be closer than we ever had been after what had happened between us. He knew fully well he could share all his secrets with me, could tell me everything that was on his mind and could be honest with me without having to fear I would tell anyone or judge him for his thoughts and on the opposite side I could rely on him the same. Yet there always was this little thing I was too scared to tell him in fear it would destroy the bond between us, that he wasn’t reciprocating what I felt for him – well, at least until he proved me utterly wrong this morning.
“Now, I am.” I could practically feel the warmth in Noah’s words, the smile forming on his face pulling me right into him and casting its spell over me. Damn him and his stupidly handsome look and this smile… He just got me right where he wanted… again.
“Do you… uh… want to go to the rest of the boys?” Smooth, very smooth, Y/N. Totally not embarrassing to turn into a stuttering mess with one look and a few words from him.
“If that’s the princess’ wish.” The way his eyes narrowed almost unnoticeably in the dark sent a shiver down my spine.
“No- I mean-…”
“You have to forgive me, it wasn’t my intention to make your highness all flustered.” The innocence he feigned was betrayed by the amusement and satisfaction he was radiating. His smile spreading into a mischievous grin about my struggle with the new direction he had chosen.
“Then stop treating me with title and all.” I directed a fake pout at him, refusing to feed his confidence even more than I already had and trying to keep our conversation neutral.
“How do you want me to treat you?” His voice went an octave lower, coming closer and staring down at me from the back of his horse which stood with its side right in front of me, making him look even taller.
“Noah…” It wasn’t making me uncomfortable what he said but I wasn’t sure if this was going too fast. I needed to get used to whatever this was now between us and the new side of Noah I hadn’t known before. The seriousness in my expression and in the way I emphasized his name a hint that I wanted to retreat to the comfort zone of his friends, even if I enjoyed being alone with him.
“It’s okay, there is no reason to get shy.” Noah’s features softened, another wave of warmth flooding me about his attentiveness and the ability to adjust to the slightest changes in my behavior. Giving me the reassurance I was safe with him.
A gloved hand in black stretched out to me, ready to take. “Do you want to come up here?” I contemplated my decision if I should walk or accept his offer. There wouldn’t be any harm if we were seen together on a horse – we had done it before – and if I had the opportunity to be close to him I wasn’t going to let it pass.
Without hesitation I took it, his large hand engulfing mine in a firm grip so I wouldn’t slip out while I was preparing to hoist myself up so he didn’t have to lift me up all by himself, even if he easily would have managed to do it. As soon as he got hold of my hand I felt a strong tug upwards, putting my other free hand on the horse’s back for support before I jumped and securely landed behind Noah without any effort thanks to his help.
“Thank you.”
“Everything for the birthday girl.”
I took hold of his middle even if I didn’t need to because we were going at a slow pace and I was skilled enough to ride without any hold on something, much like Noah, Nicholas, Jolly and Nick as it was part of what we were doing for years when we had some free time. But before Noah would get concerned about my safety – even if he knew he didn’t need to – or anyone else who might see us, I decided to do what I was supposed to do. And maybe because I liked feeling his trained, heated body and muscles contract underneath my hands through the black costume. I could have sworn I even felt him tense up at my touch.
We weren’t far away from the group when Noah decided to break the short silence that had settled over us.
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He confessed, his voice guarded but laced with a slight nervousness and probably a hint of regret.
“You didn’t. You never make me uncomfortable, Noah.” I assured, wanting to ease his worry that he might have said something wrong or had gone too far. Taking me by surprise that he thought he could ever do such a thing. We were together since we were little kids after all and knew each other by heart. But he always tended to worry too much about me, thinking I wouldn’t notice when in fact I was doing the same.
The only response I got was a low hum before we joined the people waiting for us.
Nicholas made some space when he saw us approaching, greeting us with a grin. When we had taken the position next to him, I let go of Noah’s body and he gently helped me back down with one hand like before, making sure I wouldn’t fall until I landed safely on my feet next to him and his large stallion.
“You really managed to tame the beast, hm?” Nick stated in acknowledgement when he looked over to his friend.
“We were just talking.” I clarified, not understanding what he meant. Taking a short glance up to Noah curiously before it went back to Nick. They had yet to tell me what happened in the last hours because nothing they said made sense with how Noah was acting right now. Everything seemed normal like always, when you put certain things aside. Maybe he had just pressured himself too much about today, a knot forming at the thought in my stomach. I didn’t want him to put so much effort into something that wasn’t worth it in the end. It was only my birthday, nothing special and nothing I wanted to celebrate big but still these boys made it their mission to make this day something memorable every year. I could never thank them enough for everything they were doing for me. I wish I could.
“Whatever you did, it worked. He ain’t grumpy anymore.” Jolly commented amused at the visible lightened mood of his best friend.
“Told you we should have gotten Y/N here.” Nicholas said with a knowing look at the longhaired man to his right.
“I wasn’t grumpy.” Noah defended barely audible, talking more to himself. His brows furrowing and looking anywhere but us. He clearly didn’t like to be called out like this.
“Is the big, bad Noah Sebastian getting nervous? Or is it because of the beautiful lady next to you?” Nick’s words meant no harm, only wanting to make a little fun of him which was nothing new. “I swear, you’re getting more beautiful each year, Y/N.”
My whole body tensed when I could practically feel Noah’s aura darkening.
“Watch your tongue, Nick.” The brunette samurai almost growled and narrowed his eyes at him in a warning glare. Something cold and dangerous creeping in those usual warm, brown orbs and his entire demeanor was completely different from one moment to the other. Hostile even. He had never been like this towards his friends. What was going on with him? Was he jealous? No, he’s a samurai, Y/N. But he’s still Noah… Do you think he even knows or cares what that is?
“It’s alright, Noah.” I attempted to sooth him, not wanting it to escalate between the two because for some strange reason he wasn’t taking this as any kind of fun.
When nothing came in return - which I hoped was a good sign – I focused on the others who were a bit baffled about their friend’s unusual reaction. Impulsiveness was surely not one of his character traits, there was rarely anything that could made him snap or put his patience to a real test.
“I can give that compliment right back, you all look good in those outfits. They really suit you.” Giving the men around me a smile to lift the sudden tension and studying one after another in those full black, skintight, ninja-like clothes they were wearing. How could I have not noticed sooner how great they looked in those costumes? They were practically made for them and I could only imagine what they had planned for tonight. It surely promised to be exciting.
My sight got stuck on Noah yet again when I took him in from head to toe, making my pulse shoot up and bringing me back to the moment where he had caged me in with his arms. If looks could kill, I’d die very happy right now. There was that glint again, no trace of the coldness from before but the warmth they usually held.
Heat was rushing to my cheeks at the thought and I tore my sight away to not raise any suspicion. Whatever it was that had overcome him, it seemed to be gone as fast as it appeared. Letting me relax but it still left me to wonder.
“They are sick!” I could only chuckle at Nick’s choice of words. He was lucky nobody else was here who would lecture him about his language. Nobody except Ruen, who cleared his throat to remind him to watch how he expressed himself. Earning a shrug from the dark haired boy to which the older man could only shake his head. “What? It’s the truth.”
“Who would have thought our samurai has such a good taste in clothes?” Jolly commented with a raised eyebrow, one side of his mouth turning upwards into a smirk that got even wider when he locked eyes with said person. Something was off about it that much I could tell, not missing how Noah straightened up his posture ever so slightly and the grip on his horse’s reins hardened. Whatever they were talking about wasn’t only about his choice for their costumes anymore. It was definitely about something else I didn’t understand which seemed to either make him really uncomfortable or anger him.
“Maybe with some other things too.” Nicholas joined in, throwing a wink at Jolly. Both not able to hold in their snickers.
All four of them were in a weird mood and I regretted being gone all day. At least I would have had a clue what was going on… Did they know? Did Noah tell them? No, he’d never risk that.
My nerves were literally a rollercoaster, my mind starting to overthink and trying to match the speed of my heartbeat. What had we been thinking? If anyone found out… the consequences would be fatal. How could I have been so stupid to think I could keep this a secret? And how was I supposed to survive tonight if he really meant what he had said and I’d be alone with him? Maybe all of this was as a bad decision to begin with… No! I don’t regret almost kissing him. I just can’t resist him… And I don’t want to.
The neighing of a horse snapped me out of my head, breaking my train of thought.
It must have come from Noah’s as it was tugging at the reins while raising its head and pulling against its restraints. Stomping with its hooves back and forth at the same time.
First I moved a few feet away from its side for my safety before I carefully came closer to its front, watching its movements to assess what to do and how to respond to its actions.
It was nervous.
“Hey, everything’s okay. Shh. Calm down, it’s okay.” I slowly inched my way forward till I reached it, softly laying my right hand on the front of its head and starting to stroke it to calm it down, holding the reins lightly with my other hand to restrain its violent movements.
“You are making him nervous.” I stated to its rider, missing the quizzical look overtaking his face because I was busy focusing on his temperamental companion.
Thankfully it worked and the horse was relaxing into my touch after a couple of strokes and a few more calming words.
“There you go. Everything’s alright.” I was lightly petting the side of its throat before moving back to its head who was hanging lower now, almost motionless. A sign that the animal was completely at ease now.
“You’re not the only one demanding my attention today, hm?” I chuckled and looked up to Noah for a second. Two could play this game the boys were playing. Earning a deep snort from the black horse in return who was pushing its head against me now. “That’s my good boy.”
The men around me were all watching me in awe doing what I could do best. As cliché as it sounds but I loved horses and learned how to ride from a young age thanks to Ruen who initially introduced me to them. These animals were not only beautiful but their empathy was what made them so special. They could feel your emotions and reflect them back at you. That’s why I spent most of my time with them when I didn’t have to be a princess or wasn’t sneakily reading through the large amount of books hidden away in the castle because they contained tails from centuries ago, of an age that had long passed, telling about forbidden stories of gods who were believed to have existed in this land.
It also gave me the opportunity to be with the boys a lot, laughing, sharing stories, teaching them new tricks on their horses or simply just spending some time with each other when Jolly, Nicholas and Nick weren’t on their duty as castle guards and Noah wasn’t needed for the time being.
These few things were my only escape from the golden cage I had been placed in and I wasn’t sure what I’d be doing if I didn’t have them.
They were essentially like a second family, sharing the same passion with me after I got them in touch with the artistic side of riding and showed them that these animals were so much more than everybody else in this castle like my father thought they were – their intelligence included. It took a little bit of convincing to get them to try it out but once they eventually did, it turned out they all had a talent for it just like me. Leading to hours and hours of training choreographies and stunts with each other because we loved what we did. Each of them having their own skillset just like their horses who matched their individual characters.
Nicholas and Jolly were more laid back, Noah and Nick on the other hand the most active, doing the riskier tricks. Perfectly fitting the energy of their stallions.
Of course this came with a downside, the perfect example standing right before me. Noah’s horse was our little problem straight from the start. It took a lot of time and hard work to get it to where it was now. The raven black stallion allowed no one on his back but Noah and me and wasn’t taking any commands from anyone else either. Everyone writing it off as ‘unrideable’, some even had declared it as a ‘bad omen’, but the truth was you just had to get to know and understand it. Its temper mirroring the samurai’s in every possible way, even the same bullheadedness.
You would think under the calm and collected demeanor wouldn’t be anything more but there was a lot Noah wasn’t showing that reached deeper. I wished he would let go and show more of it. He had given me a glimpse of it this morning and I wanted to discover all of it.
“You do what Noah tells you to do, alright? Show them what we’ve been training. I want you to make their jaws drop.” I said with insistency, stroking behind its ears and back down before giving my attention to the other three.
“All of you.”
Moving down in a row and stroking each one from Nicholas’ over Nick’s to Jolly’s. Making sure to give them some love equally and check if they were ready for their performance.
“Y/N, we need to go.” Ruen announced behind me when I was finished with the last.
“I could bring her.” Noah threw in suddenly, surprising me with his offer.
“No, it’s okay. You go and get ready for your show. I’m fine.” I declined politely, wanting to give him the chance to fully focus before they were going out there. He was good at keeping his expression unchanged but I noticed his face fall the smallest amount, feeling the butterflies tickling my insides at the little action. Or rather the meaning behind it.
I acknowledged the boys with a challenging smile, continuing where I left off.
“That includes the four of you! I’m excited to see what you’ve been planning.” Their eyes were shining with excitement and you could feel the energy they were giving off. They were more than ready to make themselves the highlight of this evening.
I was so proud of them and it made me happy to see them like this.
I shared a last glance with each one, letting it linger for a second longer on Noah. There was something playful and mischievous in his eyes, he definitely had accepted my challenge and was determined to not only complete it but to raise the level even higher. His unrelenting confidence was turning me into a puddle, spreading a wave of heat through me.
The dark of the night was thankfully covering it up and before anyone of them could notice how red my face probably was, I swiftly stepped to his horse and gave it a kiss above its nose.
“Be a good boy.” I whispered to it quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear. But apparently a certain someone did without making it known.
To not make Ruen wait any longer, I came to him so we could leave. “Let’s go.”
As we were about to move, I heard a distant sound coming from somewhere further away outside the castle, my head snapping into the direction.
“Did you hear that?” I asked and tried to make out something in the darkness above the castle walls but couldn’t spot anything.
“What?” Nicholas questioned back, exchanging a look with the other men and following my sight.
“I didn’t hear anything.” Jolly answered unconcerned.
“Are you sure you not made it up?” Nick could be right and I just thought I heard something but I was sure I didn’t.
Noah kept silent but instead fixated his observing gaze into the direction I was looking. Narrowing his eyes, concern ghosting his features for a moment.
“It’s probably nothing.” After nothing else happened, I decided to let it go and not think any more about it.
Starting to walk away with Ruen next to me and brushing it off.
“You won’t forget this!” We heard Nick shouting after us.
“I bet!” I stopped and shouted back at them, catching their group staring at me.
It was like his final words were heard by the kami.
I truly wouldn’t forget this night.
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Tags: @concreteangel92
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian au#bad omens#bad omens au#fates edged on a blade
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