#thank you for crediting the real artist

[s1ck-pupp3t]

I love, Ms Paint. CHEERS!

OK real art dump over. Click MORE for Real dumb stuff

something something They faces killing me why nobody gaf. Its a Transparent .PNg! You can put them any where to Not Care About.

[skzdarlings]

the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

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“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted.  “My husband isn’t coming for me.” 

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand.  You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.    

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer.  The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone. 

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return. 

Hyunjin was quiet on the call.  Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation.  When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster. 

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business.  He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family.  Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle. 

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you.  When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties. 

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld.  The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved.  Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.    

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call.  Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance.  He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.       

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call.  You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned.   At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster.  You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport. 

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes.  They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown. 

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst. 

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said.   He ended the call seconds later.    

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says.  He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife.  It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat.  “Or else.” 

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim.  “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening.  They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds. 

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth.  Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you.  He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental.  There is a professional distance between you.  His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business. 

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity.  He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies.  He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind. 

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you.  You often catch him staring.  He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up.  His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions.  You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter.   He seems more than content to listen.  He remembers everything too. 

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else.  He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away.  He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon.  He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card.  It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship.  You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations.  There would be consequences if the marriage fell through.  You would be blamed, not him.  Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him. 

He politely rejected you at every turn. 

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job.  It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse.  You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom.  You could hear him cursing above the running water. 

You only meant to peek.  The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over. 

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder.  There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars. 

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty.  His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain.  Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head. 

He froze at the sound of your gasp.  His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair.  They captured yours.   

You held your breath. 

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face.  He looked in the mirror and sighed.    

“You can come in,” he said.   “This is your home too.” 

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through.  Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder.  You could see the wound was a thin stripe.  It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.    

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering.   You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start.  You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut. 

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact.  You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror.  You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever. 

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection.   “You – you have people to protect you.”  You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face. 

“I do,” he said.  “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.” 

This did not surprise you to hear.   It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people.  It is a fact known to few.  It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him.  He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private. 

You have never known another man like him.  Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you. 

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others.  If something happened to him, what would become of you?  Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter?  This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin.  This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless. 

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder. 

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke.  “Please make sure you always come home, okay?” 

He did not answer at first.  When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire. 

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.   

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization. 

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine.  It made him stand a little straighter.  “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked. 

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger.  He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table. 

“You’re a smart woman,” he said.  “I know that.  And I know that you’re – good.” 

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue.  You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself.  He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted. 

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked. 

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady.  You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting. 

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before.  You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity.   Of him, of all that he was, all that he did.  His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband. 

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive. 

You desperately wondered what was on his mind.  The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response.  Was he feeling the same tension?  Were his thoughts the same realization?

 My wife.  

“Yes,” he finally said. 

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so.  It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss. 

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face. 

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time. 

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire.  It was so different to that kiss.  You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that.  You never knew what you were missing. 

Your quiet husband and his multitudes.  All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin.  His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever. 

He walked you backwards.  With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back.  He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.   

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself.  Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath. 

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain.   He looked at you like he already loved you.  He looked at you and saw the reciprocation.  You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled. 

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place.  His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body.  You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now.  It is why it became your favourite. 

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body.   It broke through that last layer of ice.  He surrendered with a choked breath. 

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket.   Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt.  You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard.   You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires.  No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real.   His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way.  He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before. 

Recollection makes you crave another kiss.   You think you will always be starving for more. 

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest. 

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed.   He kissed you again, long and slow.  It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.”  He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat.  “Please, my wife.”  He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it.   “My wife,” he repeated. 

“My husband.”  The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.   

It was all the confirmation he needed.  Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness.  He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.   

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way.  His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness.  Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you. 

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers.  It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth.  He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth.  He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you. 

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time.  He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you.  It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before.  You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind.  His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together.  You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars.  Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses. 

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless.  He always wanted more. 

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled.   However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever.  He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business.   You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations. 

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed.  There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance.  The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing.  But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before.  But while his silence was significant, so was his glance.  Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud. 

You granted him some distance for a time.  When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap. 

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side.  You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants.  His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up. 

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything. 

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case.   His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing.  You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair.  He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you. 

You ran your fingers through his hair.  When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek. 

There were some wipes on his desk.  You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up.  His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist.  He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself. 

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face.  Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied. 

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe.  Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him.  This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees. 

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly.   You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten. 

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face.   He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe.  The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body.  You were completedly naked underneath. 

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began.  It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh.  You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants.  It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.  

“Please,” you said. 

He would never deny you anything.  Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture.  When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour.  You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat.  His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise.  He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth. 

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment.  He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink. 

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds.  That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one.  He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss. 

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed.  The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment. 

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame.  When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it.   His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up. 

 “What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat.  The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower. 

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over.  He licked and kissed back up to your mouth.   “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.” 

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you.  His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him.  It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small.  Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception.   This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like  he was a life preserver in a storm.  The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise. 

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you.  He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat. 

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you.  You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.    

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man.  He understood.  He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure.  His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before.  You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms. 

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs.  It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered. 

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again.  He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over. 

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more.  Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you.  You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world.   You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him. 

You have been out of his arms for too long.  Your visit to your family grew tedious before long.  Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return. 

Now it seems you may never see it again.  You may never see him again. 

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now.  You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue.  You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business.  You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision.  You must eliminate the need for choice. 

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies.  When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings.  There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them. 

It is true, you do not like violence. 

That does not mean you do not understand it. 

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement.  Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown.  You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway. 

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle.  You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants. 

Then Hyunjin emerges.   You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it.  If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now.   There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely. 

Then he stumbles, recognizing you.  You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you. 

He looks nowhere but your eyes. 

“Hyunjin?” you finally say. 

“I—”  He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress.  He shakes his head.  Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say.  You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply.  You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business.  The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.  

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry.  You’re late.” 

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth.  He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says. 

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand.  His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.        

You turn to watch them go.  In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm.  He is fast, effectively disarming you.  He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him.  You throw your arms around him.  The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks. 

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain. 

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek.  He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe. 

“I’m all right now,” you say.  “Sorry I beat you to the punch.  I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles.  That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger.  He tips your head so he can look at your face.  He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find.  He is enchanted every time. 

“You’re mine,” he says.  “And I take care of what belongs to me.” 

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space.  He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless. 

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says.  His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary.  It makes you tingle from head to toe.  “Do I need to remind you?” 

You never actually answer.  You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home. 

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold.  He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.  You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place.  Now, he is not slow or subtle.  He is a force of nature.   He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call. 

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body.  “I’m your husband.  There is nothing I should be holding back.” 

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair.  You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers.   “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath.   “Do whatever you want.” 

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down.  He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites.   You shiver at every suggestion. 

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed.  He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass. 

“You’re my wife,” he says.  The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress.  It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce.  “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.  

This time a yelp escapes your lips.  You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress.   He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.  

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers.  You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next.   You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together. 

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again.  “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down.  “My husband,” you say again. 

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you.   With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold. 

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking.  His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead.  You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place.  Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows. 

“I make you feel good,” he says.  “I take care of you.  You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently.  Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up. 

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess.  “Just for me,” he says in that whisper.  “Just for your husband.” 

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you. 

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up.  He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed.  You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap.  He forgets to remove his necklace.  All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you.   You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you. 

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions.   When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase.   When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever.  When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms. 

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart.  Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow.  Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him.  You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels. 

Before it ends, you change position.  He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely.  He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down.  Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name.  His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body.  Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again.  He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn. 

“Hyunjin,” you say.  “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately.  Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you. 

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin. 

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn.  His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth.   There is no more ice, no more cold concrete. 

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh. 

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly.  It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art. 

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says.   “Just like you rescued me.” 

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him.  It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back. 

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband. 

[retquits]

Hi, I've been following you for a long time and I LOVE your art!so I wanted to make a little gift for you ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

OH?? MY GOD??? OH MY GOD WHAT 😭

that's my boy!! that's monroe right there for real AHHHH

he's so soft and fluffy, your style is so beautiful T_T 💛💛💛 this is absolutely gorgeous, thank you SO much?! WOW

(also, i wasn't sure if this was sent from a blank account on purpose or not - if the artist sees this and would like full credit, please feel free to reach out! 🥺)

[mclqren]

PERFECT ★ CL16

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!singer!reader

SUMMARY ✦ most of your songs are based off of your relationship with your boyfriend, so it's only fair that he writes a song for you, right? [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ for the purpose of this fic, i have stolen some songs from other artists to use as the reader's/charles'. as per request, the fc i've used is sabrina carpenter, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

liked by charles_leclerc, oliviarodrigo, and 3,555,971 others

tagged charles_leclerc

yourusername my new song 'cinnamon girl', and the music video to go with it, is out now!! i'd like to thank everyone who supported me through the making of this song, but especially my boyfriend, who inspired me to write it. je t’aime 💌

view all comments

user1 THEIR RELATIONSHIP HAS ME SCREAMINGGG WHEN IS IT MY TURN

user2 SO REAL THEY'RE SUCH CUTIES

charles_leclerc forever proud of you ❤️

yourusername 💘💘

user3 her aesthetic means absolutely everything to me

user4 THE SONG IS EVERYTHING AND MOREEE I LOVE IT!!

user5 y/n l/n one chance PLEASEEE

oliviarodrigo so proud of you baby!! 💜

yourusername thank you sm liv i love you 💌

user6 their friendship is everything to me.

liked by charles_leclerc, tatemcrae, and 3,002,718 others

yourusername cinnamon girl is already at one million streams on spotify?! actually insane - thank you all so much for supporting me and my vision, i love you all to death 💌

view all comments

user10 WOAH 1 MILLION ALREADY IS CRAZYYY

user11 beyond proud of you y/n you’ve come so far 💗💗

charles_leclerc couldn’t be prouder of you ❤️

yourusername love you!! 💕💕

user12 the way he supports her>>

user13 the fact charles leclerc inspired this song is actually everything to me

user14 IM IN LOVE W EVERYTHING YOU DO

tatemcrae MY GIRL COME ON ❤️

yourusername TATEEE MY BABY 💕

liked by charles_leclerc, oliviarodrigo, and 2,981,627 others

tagged charles_leclerc

yourusername next stop: bahrain!! 💌

view all comments

user17 y’all’s relationship is everything to me

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

user18 Y/N IN BAHRAIN THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!

user19 the way he looks at her omg

user20 i want someone to look at me the way charles looks at y/n oh my days

oliviarodrigo take me w you!! 😭

yourusername next time!! 💕

user21 she’s so sweet i cant

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 2,671,902 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc touchdown in bahrain! let’s hope for a good race 👊

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user22 HES BACKKKK

user23 LECLERCCC

user24 y/n is glowing omg

yourusername can’t wait to watch 💕

charles_leclerc ❤️

user25 awwww stop it rn

yourusername FORZA FERRARIII

carlossainz55 SIEMPRE ❤️

user26 y/n’s two moods: cutesy gf and raging ferrari fan

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and 2,880,218 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc i promised something new and exciting with my music, and here it is. 'perfect' is out now - a song i produced and played purely on the piano. this song is for my love: you write songs about me all the time, so here's a little present from me to you ❤️

view all comments

user30 he's so in love it's actually the cutest thing ever

user31 this song is actually so beautiful what on earth.

yourusername my love 💌

charles_leclerc forever ❤️

user32 kill me now why are they so cute.

user33 THE SONG CHARLESSS ITS SO GOOD

maxverstappen1 photo credits for the last picture?? ☹️

yourusername thanks for capturing such a gorgeous shot maxie, much appreciated 😘

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 3,313,220 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc to the person who i would dedicate all of my songs to. je t’aime ❤️

view all comments

user38 someone put them in a cheesy romantic comedy film right this instant they're too perfect for this world.

user39 RIGHTTT IVE BEEN SAYING THIS

user40 can't tell who's punching more: charles or y/n

user41 she is so stunning i actually can't

user42 the song title 'perfect' is so fitting i mean look at her

yourusername im choosing to ignore the second picture 😘

charles_leclerc but why, it's so cute!!

yourusername you are joking charles.

yourusername love you always and forever 💌

liked by charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 3,445,380 others

tagged charles_leclerc

yourusername thank you sm charlie for the song, it was truly one of the most beautiful things that have ever graced my ears, and i will forever cherish it 💌 this post is an appreciation for you (the last picture will forever be my favorite)

view all comments

user43 the way i can hear the last photo 😭

user44 "nothing it was just an inchident"

charles_leclerc the last picture ☹️

yourusername my fav 😊😊

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

user45 FUCKKK IM SO SINGLE RN

user46 NO REALLL IM SO LONELY

maxverstappen1 last pic brings back bad memories 😢

yourusername sorry about that mad max, i'm sure you'll get over it soon. 🫶

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[aimless-dubs]

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE ONES IN THE BACK

it bites <3

wonderful art made by @shaadowmilkcookie !!

[jethrowest]

let me see you stripped down to the bone…

- stripped by depeche mode

congratulations! you’ve been hired as homelander’s entire glam squad! what an opportunity! now let’s try real hard not to let the fumes get to you, okay?

pairing : homelander/afab reader

word count : 5.6k

warnings : homelander in and of himself, toxic workplace environment, something akin to stockholm syndrome, fingering, smut. 18+, mdni

special thanks to @blindmagdalena @sehtoast @homeb0ys and @clockworkzeppelin for letting me scream at you about this!

writing tag

gif credit

divider credit

Homelander is an asshole.

That doesn’t bother you much. You’ve dealt with plenty in this field, which means you’ve learned how to make life easier for all parties. That particular learning curve includes when to stand out and blend in, at times concurrently depending on what variety of asshole they happen to be.

As a whole, the makeup artists and hairstylists at Vought take care of The Seven and go where they’re needed. And as a cosmetologist, you were hired to provide both services for Homelander and Homelander only, which you consider to be one of the most prestigious stamps one could add to their professional passport.

Before you became official, you were colorfully threatened by a Ms. Ashley Barrett, who, after the fact, had no qualms throwing you into the lion’s den to figure your own shit out.

In no uncertain terms were you told that if you fucked any part of this up, your sparkling resume would look best as something to sit her smooth, bare ass on while getting fucked on top of her desk. No lube or protection. It would then be tossed exactly like her salad.

Not an image you could have ever predicted crossing your mind. Honestly, you should have stopped her right there and walked your happy little ass out of her office toward pastures that might have not been greener (you were being handsomely compensated), but certainly not as toxic. While the red flags were a color you couldn’t quite ignore, you were also curious about why they stood out so much more than they did regarding previous employers.

None of this is to say you live under a rock. Anyone who has access to the internet is ambushed daily by these Supes’ personal lives. Homelander’s track record as far as choice in partners went hadn’t been ideal, so you understand that made him less popular at the time. That of course has nothing to do with you or your capabilities.

You opt to wear gray-colored glasses, seeing everything with a neutral blend of black and white. As much as possible anyway.

Nevertheless, curiosity killed the cat. But hopefully not your career.

The first day was awkward to say the least. Immediately, you knew you weren’t going to like your coworkers.

Glints of sympathy changed how they perceived you. A target, whether they intended for this to happen or not, was nailed to your forehead, and it made them buzz around you like avid, greedy wasps keen on seeing how rapidly the honeybee will be brutalized. You didn’t much care for going cross-eyed while staring at that target whenever you crossed paths. They didn’t know you, yet because of who you were working under, deemed you helpless. They didn’t give you a chance to establish yourself before branding you a victim.

Why should you respect them?

Small talk wasn’t entertained either, as their judgment tarnished any future encounters. They ostracized you once you showed no interest in engaging with them. That didn’t disappoint you. You weren’t here to make friends.

You do wonder how those before you fared: if they were jaded when they arrived or if they couldn’t help but succumb to the pressures of being at the top rung of a very unstable albeit sought after ladder.

Ms. Barrett quickly introduced you to Homelander, her parting gift before leaving the two of you alone.

You weren’t completely nervous in his presence. He wasn’t any different to you than the other celebrities you’d worked on, except he could rip you in half like a piece of paper if he was so inclined. But he’s the hero of this country’s story, so really, you should have nothing to worry about.

His demeanor, you noted, suggested arrogance, annoyance, and boredom. All things you’re used to. So you offered your hand to shake, which he eyed with a slightly upturned nose before grabbing, told him it was a pleasure to meet him and got straight to business.

Looking back, he was clearly expecting more out of you. Maybe not a display as excessive as getting on your knees and professing your undying love, but close enough. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps.

Part of you believes he might have also counted on fear. To you, he’s not anything or anyone unknown. Another big name in a fancy suit with impossible demands.

You were given a routine to follow and products to use. You did as you were instructed and found the process to be simple and, as Homelander’s expression revealed, uninspiring.

While you were utilizing a face brush to apply powder, he must have decided he was done enduring your lack of enthusiasm, because he suddenly asked, “What are you wearing?”

You stopped for a split second, no longer than, and continued. “The name of my clothing designer, you mean?”

He scoffed, waving his gloved hand at you, almost knocking the applicator you held to the ground. “No, your perfume. What are the top notes?”

You laughed and that seemed to confuse him. “Why, you want a bottle?”

“I don’t like it.” He sniffed sharply and cleared his throat. “Smells like you should be on the corner selling your used body parts.”

Ding ding ding. Alarm bells and red flags galore. You enjoy a challenge, however, and are a bit of a masochist, so you persevere.

“Well, what doesn’t smell like a cheap hooker to you? I’ll start wearing that instead.”

He cocked a brow, studying you. Trying to figure out if you were being serious or mocking him.

“It’s your first day.” A warning. “Are you on your best behavior, or can you do better?” He leaned forward in his chair, forcing you backward. “You should be working harder to prove yourself. Prove your worth.” He sat back again and shrugged. “Or maybe you really are worth as much as that dumpster juice you doused yourself in.”

At this point, he more than likely envisioned your happy little ass getting offended and storming out of the room. Breaking down, sobbing. Questioning why he was being so rude. One of those or, better yet, a nifty combination.

You’ve heard worse, unfortunately for him. Not always directed at you, but that doesn’t matter. You can handle it.

“You’re absolutely right,” you stated calmly, folding your arms across your chest. He looked at you with pretentious, petulant intrigue. “It is my first day, and I want to make a good impression. Which is why I’m asking you what you would like me to wear so I can continue to keep that good impression intact and, as our professional relationship develops, stay on top of it.”

Homelander’s mouth twitched. He sighed deeply and slouched in his seat, staring at the wall to the left of him. Then he deigned to cast his gaze back at you, resting his cheek on his index and middle finger. He tapped the arm rest with his other hand.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” A pause followed that lasted longer than necessary. Were you meant to guess? “Just wear something, I dunno, less. If you would have done your homework like a good little peon, you’d know I have super senses. Highly developed. Can you even imagine what that entails?”

Finally, he freed the canvas you were nearly finished with, and you flicked the soft bristles across the bridge of his nose. You smiled, more to yourself than him.

Felt rather on the nose, as the saying goes.

He didn’t comment on your grin. You didn’t give him time to. But he did huff like you were being obtuse on purpose.

“I can try. And my imagination is giving me some less-than-ideal scenarios,” you replied. Another pause. At least he was letting you do your job again.

You don’t know what compelled you to keep going, but something about his lack of a real answer made you carry on. “Do you have a favorite flower or baked good? Maybe a spice?”

Homelander almost glared up at you. You say almost because, for whatever reason, it didn’t seem like he was directing that harshness at you, though former words and actions proved otherwise. Something inside, perhaps. Or outside of this enclosed space.

“I already told you what to wear. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You took the hint and remained quiet the rest of your session. Soon, you were done.

As you were packing and tidying up your station, he took it upon himself to stand behind you. He lingered over your shoulder, watching the scene play out like he was director and star and you were barely an ant on the sidewalk he acknowledged before squashing.

The heat radiating off of him was impossible to dismiss, a wall of it barricading your backside. He clasped his fingers underneath his cape and inched closer. You thought he was as close to you as he could get without touching you. He was that warm.

When you glanced up, he was staring at you through the mirror. As absurd as it was, you managed to get chills. Goosebumps broke the surface of your skin.

“Fresh chocolate chip cookies. Straight out of the oven. Like mom used to make.” He flashed an unnerving smile before turning to exit.

From there on out, even after you bent to his will and found a gourmand scent that matched what he described, Homelander tested you. Your work ethic, clothing choice, eating habits, and most of all, patience.

Your parents would ask how you were liking your job, how it was working alongside the Supes- not to mention the most famous of all- and you’d lie through your teeth. You felt you had no choice, Ashley’s threat ringing in your ears.

Resume, bare ass, tossed salad...

Oh yeah, it’s going great! They’re all super flexible. I couldn’t be happier!

At least that pun made you feel a little better about hiding the shame of what you’ve allowed yourself to take on.

This was all in the first few weeks. It started to get a little easier after that, which is surprising considering more was added to your to-do list.

You should have moved on before starting. But, for whatever asinine reason, you didn’t.

Every time you go back to your apartment and assess your appearance in the bathroom mirror, you wonder who’s making who up here. He’s changing your looks more than you are his. You’re like his human doll.

You’ve put up with a lot over the years, but this takes the cake and shoves it in your face. As fucked as it is, the flavor is growing on you. Like a fungus. Growing, nonetheless.

You can’t stop thinking about him.

It’s innocent enough, you try convincing yourself. Making sure you have the right outfit laid out the night before, the right lunch (no onions or fish or anything “freaky”!), etc. He is your superior, after all. You shouldn’t be viewing him in any other light.

He’s the most frustrating aspect of your existence these days, but he’s also the one you’re around the most. His penchant for workplace gossip and how unintentionally funny he is tends to make him palatable, which has regrettably become an understatement.

Months go by. You’ve witnessed how alone he truly is. How he has nothing outside of performing his tricks on Vought’s all-encompassing stage. And when he begins asking for your input, starts doing things for you that are so blatant it’s perplexing, you find your stress and vexation melting into cumbersome fascination.

It’s embarrassing. You don’t have the courtesy of enough time to dwell on your feelings toward the situation either, from beginning to whatever end you might be met with. You suppose that could be beneficial in the long run.

It also hits you when you least expect it; when you really don’t want it to.

Your body doesn’t wait until you finally have a moment alone. It decides, while you’re helping Homelander with his skincare routine that he insisted upon because you know more than these vacuous corporate douche-bags, to heat up without warning and slither from your head to your heart until it grasps you unfairly between your legs.

You try not to step into momentary paralysis. You understand to what extent his powers reach. It’s not like he doesn’t go on and on about them. About himself.

Whatever he notices, it’s not right away. A palpable tension fills the air between the two of you eventually. But it takes a more significant amount of time than you would have anticipated to permeate the natural flow of things.

Fuck, you can’t even be safe inside here, where your thoughts, whatever they may be, are yours. You can’t even have yourself. He has every part of you, and you are willingly relinquishing that control.

Your evening, once you can have it, consists of combing over every decision you’ve made leading up to this strange, disorienting space you find yourself occupying. All it does is leave you exasperated in a much different way than before and with an unsettling observation (or hallucination):

Was that the tail end of the American flag outside your window?

You are unacceptably late.

Rushing around, you throw on the first top and bottoms you see from your closet and spritz some perfume on your neck and wrists. You don’t check your phone. You’re afraid of what will pop up on your screen. And, frankly, you don’t have the time.

Your only option for transportation is the subway, as you’re sure the special vehicle from Vought is long gone. Why would they wait for someone like you, even if you’re practically Homelander’s personal assistant? One of his only friends. You doubt he has more than Black Noir, and that isn’t as perfect as it appears to the casual viewer.

You dread what kind of explosion you’re without a doubt walking into once you show your miserable ass up. You’re going to smell like everyone on this train. He’s going to go ballistic.

The question remains: why are you continuing to put yourself through this? It’s not your circus, yet somehow, the monkeys have become your liability.

You know, deep down, what keeps you going back. It’s simply too ridiculous to admit aloud.

Making your way past security, hurriedly presenting your badge, you realize you forgot to brush your teeth, or at the very least, gargle some mouthwash. You thank your lucky stars when you open your purse to a pack of gum tucked away in one of the compartments.

It will have to do.

When you open the door to Homelander’s dressing room, you see a couple of employees standing near the counter where the bag of supplies has been opened and rifled through, looking like they might soil themselves, a frantic Ashley, and an extremely pissed off Homelander in the middle of it all.

Reflexively, you cringe. You attempt to wipe any trace from your features, but it’s too late. Ashley is glaring daggers at you and Homelander can hardly bring himself to look in your direction. The others don’t matter to you. They never did.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I know there’s no excuse-”

“You’re goddamned right, there’s no excuse! I don’t give a shit if god and his whole fucking choir of angels came down from heaven and divinely called you to give them a makeover! What were you thinking?!”

You’re about to answer, though you comprehend her query is more or less rhetorical. She interrupts your slightly open mouth while gesturing wildly, proving your point.

“Oh, that’s right! You weren’t thinking at all, were you?! But I do believe you’ve thought long and hard about what’s at stake here. And you know damn well we at Vought don’t tolerate this kind of sloppy behavior. Not to mention the way you’re dressed! It’s adding insult to injury!” Her hand swipes at the air, the length of your outfit, and you glance down, recognizing how comically mismatched you are. Her correct observation affects you more than it would have months prior, stinging your ego- one of the many things that’s been shelved in order to accommodate the person who won’t even grace you with a glance.

A dramatic groan cuts short any further commentary from the redhead, perpetually stretched thin between her absurd duties.

“Jesus Christ, Ashley, why are your big fucking horse gums still flapping?” Homelander’s booming voice slices through your mind like a jarring, dense migraine. He pinches his brow between middle finger and thumb, eyes closed. “I want you and Tweedledee and Tweedledum t’get the fuck out. Now.”

Ashley is plainly dumbfounded, struggling to see where she went wrong (a pattern when it comes to dealing with the volatile leader of The Seven), mouth agape. She shakes her head. “But sir, are you-?”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about or doing. Clearly.”

Ms. Barrett turns a shade paler, staring at Homelander and blinking owlishly before snapping herself out of her stupor. She hurries her lackeys out of the room, shooing them along like a pair of misbehaving toddlers. She doesn’t give a final look, no further warning. She merely shuts the door behind her.

You also hear it lock.

What the hell does she think is going to happen?

You should have stopped this while you had the chance. You should have never taken this job. You should have stood up for yourself and walked out. You should have you should have you should-

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

His caustic tone sends shivers down your spine. It’s unlike anything you’ve heard come out of him. And you’ve heard enough.

Again, you open your mouth. It fills with blood, thick and metallic and more potent than the mint from your gum. You’re silenced by it.

He stalks toward you and grabs you hastily by the shoulders, swiveling you around so you’re face-to-face with the choices you’ve made. Your mirrored image is reflected back at you, exhausted and searching for any last shred of who you might be beneath his heavy palms.

“Look at yourself! Do you even recognize who’s staring back at you?” No.

“What kind of game are you playing, hmmm? Is this… humiliating spectacle you’re putting on for the money? Your pathetic career? Like it’s goddamned rocket science to pick up a can of hairspray and use it. Monkeys have hands.” He makes a noise that’s akin to a snorting horse, exhaling forcefully past his nostrils. “I mean, did you really think you could pull a fast one on me?” He clutches your jaw, squeezing it between middle and thumb. Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart picking up rhythm.

“Spit that fucking gum out. Don’t think I can’t hear you grinding it between your molars like a dumb animal. You aren’t a mama bird, are you? Y’don’t have cute little baby birds t’force-feed your regurgitated leftovers, do you? Eugh, gross.”

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose. It presents you with a false sense of security. You do as you’re told, and it lands on the floor in front of your shoe, saliva dangling on a thread as withered as your sanity.

Suddenly fresh breath seems like the most insignificant issue, when Homelander himself once made it out to be something earth-shattering.

You’re such a fool.

He leans in and sniffs your throat. Your fingers lengthen and bend.

You’re so many things at once. Confused, angry, nervous, scared. And, to your dismay, warm. God you’re so fucking warm. He’s heating you up from the inside out. You clench your jaw, still held in place by a firm bind.

“Get rid of those ugly clothes. I don’t care what you have to do. I can’t stand the sight or smell of them.”

You shut your eyes. When you open them, all you see is red. The other emotions are smothered in favor of that brand of heat. What happens next is a blur. You temporarily leave yourself.

“Fine. Have it your way, Homelander. You always do.”

Breaking free of his fluctuating hold, you start tearing at what you’re wearing, tossing everything- including your bra and underwear- to the ground. Your shirt winds up with the gum sticking to its loose fabric. You even take your shoes and socks off, not paying any heed to where your belongings go. Just that they’re gone.

You don’t process the glaring fact that you made yourself naked in front of your boss. In front of the most powerful man this country, and possibly world, has known. You don’t care that things have escalated this far. That they shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have. But guess what? They did. And these are the consequences you both have to deal with.

“You wanna know what game I’m playing?” You turn around, forcing him backward. “It’s funny, I thought you’d be able to answer that for me, considering all the hoops I’ve had to jump through to not only save my ass, but make sure you had someone to talk to at the end of the day! Who on your team can you say goes above and beyond like that for you?!” He blinks at you now, eyes wide. Features fall to the floor where your clothes reside. You have his full and undivided attention.

An impressively dangerous thing to have.

“What more do you want from me, Homelander? I practically live with you without any of the benefits that usually includes! You’re really going to stand here and berate me like I haven’t given you fucking everything you’ve ever asked me for? Because I made one mistake? I gave up my entire world, which I know doesn’t mean shit to you. But it does to me.”

You fold your arms over your chest. Nothing covers it. You have to know before you lose all dignity. So you ask once more, hoping it won’t get lost in this bizarre mess.

“What do you want from me?”

Nothing. He can’t stop staring at you. You aren’t aware enough to be ashamed, but you are aware enough to be upset.

His infuriating silence compels you to bend down and gather what was a barrier between the two of you. You are no longer needed if he can’t do what he does best, which is spout off, leaking bottled words everywhere like a broken faucet. It’s a pretty simple question, you think.

That’s when the glass behind you shatters.

You flinch, pause what you’re doing and slowly stand. Cautious in whatever your next approach will be.

Surveying the aftermath, you’re relieved to find that you’re far enough away from the mirror so no injuries were inflicted.

When you finally lock eyes with the source, you see red. The atmosphere surrounding you heaves like the distended belly of a rotting corpse; hisses like an overflowing tea kettle; pierces you like lightning.

Homelander’s expression is rigid. His jaw quivers. Irises are a bright, shining scarlet. If you try anything rash, you might be next. But, having been around him for so long, you’re more inclined to believe he’s having trouble processing his own emotions. And that might have been one of the only ways to release them.

You drop the top and pants you managed to reclaim. Your brain hasn’t fully recovered from the constant devastating hit it’s taken, so you don’t want to put a name to what’s pushing you forward. You don’t stop until you’re directly in his line of vision.

Swallowing, you carefully extend your hand. The ruby color begins to crumble and give way to the vast ocean you might have drowned in one too many times. You lost track, blocking what you could out. Too real and intimate to accept for a realm that thrives off of inauthenticity and misfortune.

Homelander inhales harshly and you retreat, pupils hooking themselves to his. Searching for any sign you shouldn’t be right where you are.

Of course there are several; unfortunately, you are currently blind to them. Blind to everything but him.

That’s how it’s been for awhile, hasn’t it?

He has a habit of not granting you the luxury of time.

Quickly, he snatches your wrist and brings your palm flat against his cheek. He exhales, eyelids fluttering, nuzzling into you.

It’s so simple, yet it disarms you in ways you aren’t accustomed to.

Homelander basks in this chaste display of affection, and so do you, in awe of how enraptured he appears. Soaking you inside of his pores.

In turn, your cognizance reappears. You nearly topple over, realization infiltrating every part of you.

You’re not wearing a stitch.

A knock at the door startles you both. You glance over in that general direction and hear from the other side, “You’re on in fifteen, Homelander, sir!”

Gazing back up at him, you witness that same fire expand at a rapid rate. You use your other hand to bring him back down to reality, to ground him. It rests against his chest, delving into and cracking his ribs, flaying him open.

What strikes you is how vigorously his heart is beating. How you can feel it through his uniform.

This is how much you affect him. (Can you fathom that you’re only privy to a fraction?) Having evidence of the tiniest reciprocation drains you of any unwanted discomfort.

His fury subsides. You breathe out. He does, too.

“Go sit in your chair. I came here to do my job, after all.” The tenderness with which you speak seems to ease him further, his shoulders deflating with each word.

That aside, you’re playing with a lit match. You’re unsure who’s going to set who ablaze, but you’re willing to go down with this entire building to find out.

He does as he’s told, watching you the whole way like a mutilated mixture of a snarling cornered animal and a man fervently in love. He almost trips into his seat, not an ounce of grace in his gait.

Sacrificing his entire image just to get a glimpse of you.

Whipping his cape to the side, he sinks into the cushion. You get things ready as you typically do, your movements a bit jittery from the adrenaline sending haphazard jolts to your limbs. Despite this, you’re focused. You are more focused than you remember ever being.

You work efficiently, keeping in mind the limit that’s been put on your time.

Homelander bores holes through you. He doesn’t need lasers for that. You’re exposed and vulnerable and he pries what he fostered apart until it’s distinguishable by no one else but him.

You relearn his perfectly manufactured features. Different lights shape shadows you either haven’t seen before or feigned ignorance of. You commit to memory how he looks, smells, feels, the side of your hand grazing his cheek and hanging on.

He’s invigorating, your excitement building to a crescendo you can’t neglect. The heat in your core disperses, most of it congregating low in your belly and behind your expanding rib cage. His pupils drink you in, urgently and violently.

Your arousal is heady. He licks his lips. A hint of a whine caresses your ears and it makes you dizzy.

How could you have ever denied yourself?

You decide to take further control, testing the waters to a greater extent.

It’s your turn to watch him the whole way down. You straddle him, easing yourself atop his taut thighs.

After a few moments of humoring yourself, of pretending to concentrate on your work, dusting his nose with powder, you straighten. Eye contact has not been severed.

You motion toward his hands, balled into tense, repressed fists at his sides.

“Take off your gloves.”

Initially, it feels like maybe you said the wrong thing, or said it the wrong way. He doesn’t budge. You’re patient, however, so you wait like you’ve always done, the warmth from your cunt mingling with the hardness beneath you. Your mouth waters.

At last, Homelander nods and removes his gloves, tugging on the index of each. He places them on the armrests and transfixes himself to you once more.

“Do you want to touch me?” you ask, voice and body staying impossibly still in spite of your nerves.

Immediately, he shakes his head, “Yes,” the first time he’s spoken since your outburst, and without hesitation, reaches for your chest. You close your eyes, falling into his snooping lifts and tugs and squeezes, giving yourself permission to become possessed by the inhibited imaginations of how selfish, how rapacious his touches might be. How smooth his bare hands are, how ardent each digit is.

Leaning into you, he sucks one nipple into his mouth and palms the other, moaning and vibrating against your flesh. He digs his fingers into the pliant softness of your hip, steadying you with disciplined pressure. You squirm, attuned to every minuscule shift.

The lit match is tilted toward you now, swift and stunning. Your fingers release the brush you’ve been holding. It aligns with the slit of the cushion, forgotten and purposeless.

You wrap your digits around the hand on your curves and guide him toward your throbbing center. He doesn’t fight you. Doesn’t stop your movements. Doesn’t scold or challenge you. Instead, he curls his fingers in a way that makes you unabashedly moan, cupping your folds and pinning his thumb to your clit, adapting to your anatomy.

Your wants.

It seems like breaking away from you is a daunting task, but he does for a moment, brow furrowed, more engrossed and invested than you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck.” The curse sounds downright edible, your new favorite flavor. Your name tumbles from his lips like he’s been practicing, a sweet, rich icing on top. You gasp, his tongue adhering to you again, swirling around your peak before lightly biting it.

Rocking your hips back and forth, side-to-side, you grind hard into his palm. He strokes you like he’s studied what pace you prefer, how much friction you crave. You’re so wet, even you’re thrown off by it.

Once he’s finished with your chest, he’s back against the seat, unable to peel his gaze from you. Your full, swollen, glistening breasts.

His mouth hangs open, obscene, desperate whimpers slipping from it. Pupils are like whirlpools that drive you under. Drive you mad.

Homelander adeptly slips two, three digits inside your sopping cunt, unrelenting in his intentions to make up for lost time. The voracity of his actions propels you forward, balancing against his chest. He grasps and pulls at your other hip, groaning loudly in your ear, confirming his approval of how close you are to him.

It’s still not enough.

Pulling you even tighter to his blinding sun of a body, he encloses his free arm around you and desperately bucks his waist. “I want… I want… I want…” he chants. Your nails drag up his neck and along his scalp, overwhelmed by his warmth, his scent, him. Your lips ghost the sliver of skin above his collar, making him growl.

You anticipate and dread and yearn for what’s been building for so long. You clench and release, clench and release, clench and release, body chanting with him.

You’re intuitively thankful for the chair’s sturdiness; however, if it would have collapsed, you’re honestly not sure you would have noticed. Or cared.

You hear him come first. Feel the temperature rise temporarily. It’s so sudden and all-consuming that you naturally follow, his name an instinct you can’t help but divulge. You haven’t come down from the turbulent emotions rushing through you earlier, and that combination catapults you over the edge.

Your orgasm draws more deliberate, vehement grunts and sighs of satisfaction from him, as if your pleasure is inexplicably the same or worth more than his.

You can’t crumple into a boneless heap like you want to. You just can’t. You have to look at him. Look at his bliss; the glazed, barren-yet-so-full-of-you expression, of what these months of working in close quarters have done to him.

What you uncover is not what you were picturing. There’s a mixture of that haze with something almost apologetic below the teeming surface. Clouds of red to skies of blue. Destructive in and of themselves.

Sliding his fingers from your wetness, he wraps his lips around each one that was inside of you and spreads them apart. Your slick sticks to his glossy skin and stretches between digits, a generous amount. You whimper at the loss- the emptying, hollow feeling- and watch, mesmerized and delirious as he savors you.

Swallowing you whole, Homelander sweeps his knuckles across the apple of your cheek and presses his lips hard against yours. He wastes no time inhaling your gasps and moans, licking your mouth and the faint taste of mint, stealing it from you. You ingest what you can of him as well, exploring what was open to you longer than you realized.

He then seizes your wrists. It’s a rough gesture that evaporates into gentle circles along your pulse points. Still, you know you’re going to bruise where he turned the key and locked you into place: wherever he is.

A visible sheen coats his lips.

“I want you to tell me I’m good. Great. The best.”

His breathing is labored. So is yours.

He kisses the inside of the wrist smeared with perfume, your fluids, his saliva; ends with your hand and rests his cheek against the slope of it.

“I want you to be mine. All mine. Mine alone.”

You’re shaking. He moves forward and pets your hair, twirls it; grabs your nape and holds his thumb to the front of your throat. Securing you. Keeping you there.

“You have to stay. Be mine and stay.”

You thrum with an ache he forced upon you. He’ll claim you were starving and he was the only one who could satiate.

You nod. You were never going to leave to begin with.

Homelander made you his. And you thanked him for it.

[dashitsxx]

if only | various male characters x fem!reader | mha

summary. Maybe leaving him wasn't the best decision to ever do.

genre. dark. explicit smut. nsfw. 18+

word count. 1.7k

characters. aizawa shota (eraserhead). chisaki kai (overhaul). takami keigo (hawks). todoroki touya (dabi).

warnings. dubcon/noncon. all in an established relationship. quirk au. vulgar language. cunnilingus (aizawa). rough fuck. penis in vagina sex. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. creampies. stomach bulge (dabi). manhandling. forcing. evident male dominance. yandere themes. possessive. obsession. mentions of killing (dabi). selfish behaviour. egoistic behaviour. indicated the use of quirk. breeding kink (dabi). praising (dabi).

disclaimer. Please note that this work is entirely fictional. It is not intended to condone, glorify, or encourage any form of violence, illegal activity, or harmful behaviour. All characters (credits to the manga artists), scenarios, and events are products of the author's imagination and/or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or real events is purely coincidental. The purpose of this work is to entertain and provoke thought, not to promote harmful behaviour.

notes. finally done with this! been itching to post this as quick as possible. i definitely didn't like how i wrote them but enjoy sluts, tried to make it spine-shivering as much as possible! reposting 'cause i found out that tumblr didn't kind of added it into the no. of my posts?? idk why

shota aizawa (eraserhead) — If only you weren't clumsy enough.

Oh love. That was the biggest mistake you have ever made to him. Do you think that you could easily slip away from his sight? Oh my. How dumb of you. You may have a strong quirk but it doesn't surpass his level... and he'll make sure to let it stay that way.

A trembling shaking rattled on the bedframe as you arched your back from the pleasuring sensation. Pants and moans vibrate against the wall of the room. No matter how much you want to try to push the head away from your cunt, your hands prevented you from doing so as it is tightly tied by his binding cloth, whereas with each forceful pull you create, it suddenly stiffens its fabric.

You moan loudly as you squirm under his touch. "Stop moving," he ordered in a vicious tone. Then, a warm wet long stripe was placed on your cunt, making you hold your breath. A strangled moan left your lips as you attempted to break the cloth that was chaining you.

"I-I can't—ah! No, n-ngh! Ah! no, s-stop. Aizawa!" you exclaimed, panting in the process.

"I said stop squirming." he painfully held your hips in place as he halted his motion. Your eyes slide down to him as you find him with a raging fire, "You wouldn't been in this position if only you had been obedient to me."

Then he slowly rises from his position as he continue to glower down at you, "You know you can't escape from me, love."

You heard a rapid swish of fabric as you found your legs bound up in a lewd position, wide open for him. "N-not like this! A-Aiza—" A painful feeling slapped your pussy which made your back arch. "Shut up."

A sinful smirk slowly formed on his lips. Who would have thought that his fantasies would come true? He was thankful that you attempted to escape, but it still does infuriate if you wanted to leave him. He didn't like that idea, nor would he let it happen. Maybe... it is time to mark you.

Then, he quietly placed his hands on the middle of his pants before unzipping it. A look of fear and shock was evident on your face as you knew what it meant

"Aizawa! No, no, no!" you attempt to back away from the raging man, but he grabbed your thighs and pulled you down to him to let you feel his hardened cock with your bare vagina—you moaned at the sensation. Pride was evident on his face as he spoke in a possessive tone.

"I'll always find you, love."

kai chisaki (overhaul)— If only you were fearless.

Darling, darling, darling. Why did you ever think that you would be able to escape from his grasp? He didn't do all those cheesy courtship with no purpose just for you to leave him. He did it all in his satisfaction to have you caged within him despite that you were a great benefit to the yakuza. Hence, you are his possession—and there is no way for you break free.

"Fuck—so... t-tight. Fucking tight." A deep growl emitted from his chest as he thrusts his fat cock into your gummy walls. You moan from your taped mouth and warm tears fall on your cheeks from the overstimulation.

A pleasured moan left his mouth as he stared down at you, a contemptuous smile was plastered on his face. You looked so pretty taking his godly size dick—it fits well with your pussy. Although he's been fucking you for who knows how many rounds, his rage hasn't been satiated yet.

The fact that you tried to leave him really fucking blood-boiled him. He has never felt this way after the heroes attempted to meddle in his business. Upon the thought entering his mind, his eyes darken immediately as he pushed the back of your thighs to your chest.

Your felt your eyes widen at a new sensation as your chest rose, heaving at the new position he put you into. It was the position you knew that would make you feel his size.

Feel him more.

You attempt to push his hands from your thighs with your taped wrists, but it keep slipping off from the body sweat formed. Then, he harshly flicked his hips onto you. Your body jerked as you felt the tip of his dick kissed your womb.

The smile remained on Kai's face as he leaned forward, "Feel that, darling? You're not dumb enough to know what it means." a chuckle erupted from his chest as he pulled out until his tip before slamming back deeply, making your body jerk again and a moan leaving your lips.

Then a sudden shivers crawled on your body under his, making his cock more slick from your cum. Kai lets out a short deep laugh before he slides his hand from your thighs to your clit, having one of your legs hanging on his shoulder.

You try to take in deep breaths as your eyes make contacts with his lust-filled ones. He tilts his head slightly with a naughty smirk.

"You can release one more, right darling? After all, you deserve this punishment."

takami keigo (hawks) — If only you weren't slow.

Sweetheart, you knew that you could never outrun him—so, why did you still do it? You are one dumb girl with a mediocre quirk, but he still loves you. It's just that your stupid mind persuaded you to leave him. Says who? He gave you no order about that—in fact, you have no rights to step away. Once he laid his eyes on you, he knew that he had to fly and catch you.

"Ngh-ah! Fuck! K-Keigo!"

"That's it. Moan my name, sweetheart."

He grabbed your hips before pulling it to his hips with a tight grip, hitting your g-spot perfectly. You hiss at the sensation as you gently place your forehead on the wall, trying to catch your breath. Hawks continued to thrust in your pussy, but it wasn't the usual way he does. He never would have acted so rough to you if you hadn't tried to hide and run away from him.

It aches his heart to put you in this position, but you need to learn your lesson.

Pants and groans escaped his lips as he pushed you more to the wall, drunk in bliss. He snakes his arms around your chest, grabbing one of your tits to twist your nipples and waist to hold you—he wants to feel your skin. Only moans are emitted from you as you try to pull away from him while clawing his arms.

"Ah, ah, ah. Sweetheart, you'll only make it worse. Hah... s-shit. J-Just allow me–ngh–to fuck you like this," he pauses as he pulls his hips until his tip is in you before slamming it deeply to your cunt, you arch your back greatly as you moan—uttering curses beneath your breath. "You'll eventually like this..."

Yes, you will like this. He'll do anything to keep you and a good hard fuck may help him hinder your ability to walk and run.

Maybe, that is a good idea—it'll let him keep watch of you. The thought of that made him more aroused as he slowly quickened his pace. Yet, you were too fucked up in pleasure to notice the malicious intent your boyfriend had in mind.

But it's okay, as long as he has you—he'll do anything.

"Sweetheart, you know I am the only man for you, oh—ngh? Ah—fuck... hmm, right?"

todoroki touya (dabi) — If only you were strong enough.

Dilly dally doll, such a beauty you are. Yet, you are such a fucking pain in the ass. You dare to escape from him—were you insane enough to consider that he'll never find you? Doll, you are wrong there. You have such a weak body with a weak quirk, he definitely doesn't want you to go to unknown places because he actually fucking cares about you. Maybe... there is another method to keep you by his side.

Deep grunts and vulgar words escaped the scarred lips of the villain as he gripped your plump sides, shooting thick ropes of white sticky liquid in your womb.

"Take it all like a good girl, doll. That's it." he licked his lips in satisfaction as he watched the erotic scene before him.

You look so pretty under him, just being a perfect cumdump for him. Although, he just hated your pettiness—who told you that you could leave him? Just because he accidentally put on a show of his ruthless killings of heroes in front of you, you had the nerve to escape. He is just doing his job, it's not really a big deal.

His eyes darken at the thought.

He pulled his dick out of your swollen pussy, letting the cum leak from your hole and giving a painful smack on your ass. A smirk forms on his face as he slides the leak sensually back into your hole, "That's the right place. Keep it in, doll. I really don't want you to piss me off again after that silly little stunt you've pulled."

You yelp in pain when you feel a stinging heat place on your clit as you comply with his order, carrying your body in a doggy position.

A boost of confidence fires in Dabi's core as he looks at your pussy clenching to hold his essence in you. But his ego wasn't the only one that fired in you, his huge cock was standing up again. He contemplates methods

Maybe, there is a way to let you stay with him.

Before you even attempted to get up from your bruising position, your face was suddenly pushed on the bed mercilessly, your ass at a higher height with an inviting pussy, and you felt a prodding tip in your entrance as it was gone in.

A loud moan from you echoed the room smelled of sex and sweat as Dabi let out a hiss to your tightness even if your mixed essence with his served as a lube.

"Touya! Wait, I-I just came!" you exclaimed, turning your head to the side.

A deep chuckle emitted from his chest as he snapped his hips against yours. You felt a protruding bulge on your belly when he snapped, jerking your body in reaction. His eyes held a purpose behind those lust and temptation as he leaned down, marking you with hickeys.

"I need to make sure that my baby mama doesn't waste a drop of my cum. I am certain you'll be a great mama, doll."

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune, thank you <33

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

.°⋆🖇₊˚ෆ synopsis: you’ve been visiting doctor nanami regularly under the pretence of needing treatment, but your lingering presence in his office starts to shift into something more. as flirtation deepens into real connection, nanami struggles to keep his distance, even though he can’t deny the pull he feels toward you.

₊˚ෆ teddy’s notes: GUYSSS ITS FINALLY HEREE!!! ive been working on this for a while now, thus is a love letter to nanami from me because ugh he is a dream. its just that ive been practicing in hospitals a lot and there was not enough beautiful male doctors so ive been daydreaming about doctor nanami and started writing it about 2 months ago. it took a long time because i was having a hard time writing, honestly. anyways! enjoyyy <33

₊˚ෆ contains: 4697 words, doctor! nanami, gender neutral reader, minor descriptions of injuries, a lot of nanami’s thoughts and internal conflicts, and maybe slow burn-ish? dunno, its just a silly one shot. artist credited in the banner!!

the hospital was quieter than usual. the hum of fluorescent lights above, the distant chatter of the staff—everything seemed muted as nanami kento walked down the sterile corridor. he had long learned to appreciate the calm of late-night shifts. in his world, filled with chaos and unpredictability, the silence was a reprieve.

when he walked into the examination room, clipboard in hand, he didn’t expect anything unusual. it was supposed to be just another routine visit, another night spent stitching up cuts or treating minor injuries. he hadn’t expected to be confronted with you.

you were sitting on the examination table, your hand bandaged up, looking like you had a thousand other places you’d rather be. nanami’s eyes immediately flicked to the injury. a small, superficial cut. barely worth a second glance. but there was something about you—something that felt out of place in the typical ebb and flow of hospital life.

when your eyes met his, nanami didn’t know why he lingered on your face. there was a softness in your gaze, an energy that seemed to pull him in. it wasn’t just the usual patient—uninjured, pretending to be hurt. no, you were different. he could see it in the way you carried yourself, in the subtle way your lips curved upward when he spoke.

“i understand you’ve injured yourself?” he asked, his voice steady and professional, but there was an edge to it. he was trying to suppress whatever curiosity had sparked in him the moment he laid eyes on you.

you didn’t seem fazed by the sterile setting, or his no-nonsense demeanor. instead, you smiled faintly, a little sheepish as you held out your hand, showing him the tiny cut that barely needed attention.

“it’s nothing, really. just a scrape,” you said, and he raised an eyebrow, assessing the injury once more. it was minor—nothing to worry about—but your insistence made it seem like something else was going on.

“hmm.” he bent closer, his fingers brushing against your hand as he cleaned the wound with a swift and practiced motion. his eyes flickered over the bandage, then met yours again. “it’s not serious. but we’ll clean it up anyway.”

he didn’t expect it to happen, but he felt a small ripple of something within him as he worked. it wasn’t just the touch, though that was part of it. it was something in the way you were watching him, your gaze unwavering, full of quiet intensity. he almost forgot for a moment why he was here. he could hear your breath, slow and steady, almost like the air around you had shifted.

when he finished, he didn’t say much—just the usual instructions, the reminder to keep it clean, change the bandage. but there was something in the air between the two of you that lingered after he stepped back.

you were still looking at him, a faint smile on your lips, like there was something unspoken. something that made his heart skip just a little.

“thanks.” you said, your voice soft. too soft.

nanami couldn’t explain it, but as you spoke those words, he couldn’t help the thought that had started to form in his mind: why did you feel familiar? it was a strange thought, one he quickly dismissed.

before he could say anything, you were gone, slipping out of the room without another word, leaving nanami to stare after you. there was a lingering feeling, something unidentifiable, that stayed with him long after you had left the room.

—

he’d spent the last few years working here, and by now, he was used to the quiet rhythm of night shifts. routine was something he had long ago embraced, finding comfort in the predictable flow of patients and paperwork. but then came you—the one anomaly in his perfectly balanced life.

the first time you returned, nanami had thought little of it. patients came and went, most of them with complaints so trivial that it barely warranted attention. but when you stepped through the door again, with that same half-apologetic smile, that same determined gleam in your eyes, something in him shifted. he wasn’t sure what it was yet, but there was a curiosity brewing inside him that he couldn’t shake.

“back again, i see,” he said, his voice low, controlled. he glanced at the bandage on your hand from the previous week. the sight of it reminded him of how gentle he had been with you—how soft his touch had felt compared to the usual brusque motions he used with patients.

this time, you were a little more direct. “well, you know me,” you said, holding your arm out like it was offering up some tragic tale. “i can’t seem to keep my balance lately. bumped into the corner of a table.” you made a show of wincing as though it was a severe injury, but the way your eyes gleamed suggested otherwise.

nanami raised an eyebrow. another injury? he couldn’t help but feel a small, skeptical tug in his chest. but, as always, he hid it behind the professionalism he was known for. his gaze dropped to your arm, and as his fingers gently pressed against the bruise, he felt the subtle tension that always seemed to be there when you were around. it wasn’t just the touch—though that was certainly part of it. it was the way you looked at him. your eyes always lingered just a little longer than necessary, and nanami couldn’t ignore how it made his heart flutter.

he adjusted his glasses, his fingers still lightly brushing over the bruise. “it’s minor,” he said, his voice a little less dismissive than usual. “you’re fine. just take it easy for a couple of days.”

you were clearly enjoying the attention, despite the trivial nature of the injury. “i suppose i’ll just have to rest,” you said, a playful lilt in your voice. “though, i don’t know how i’m going to manage without your expert care.”

the compliment wasn’t lost on him. it wasn’t that nanami couldn’t handle the flirtation—it was that it made him feel something he wasn’t used to. something soft. he let out a quiet sigh and gave you a side glance. “you’re impossible.”

but the words didn’t have their usual bite. instead, there was a trace of amusement in his tone, an unexpected crack in his professional armor. and you noticed it. of course, you did.

—

the next week, you were back again. this time, with a slightly more elaborate tale about twisting your ankle while jogging. he didn’t even bother asking if it was true—he already knew. it was another excuse. another reason for you to seek him out.

but, as usual, nanami couldn’t bring himself to push you away. he couldn’t explain it. there was something magnetic about you—something that kept drawing him in no matter how many times you made up some new injury. maybe it was the way you looked at him when you walked into the room, like you were waiting for him to see through the act. maybe it was how you teased him so effortlessly, as though you knew exactly what buttons to push to get under his skin.

this time, you’d pulled a muscle in your leg. the bruise on your ankle wasn’t as bad as you claimed, but you made sure to exaggerate the tenderness as you sat down on the exam table.

“do you need help getting up?” nanami asked, though he had already seen you walk in with ease, so he knew it wasn’t as bad as you made it sound.

you tilted your head, your smile a little more mischievous. “only if you’ll carry me.”

nanami blinked, the words catching him off guard. but he couldn’t hide the slight shift in his expression—just a subtle tightening around his jaw, an almost imperceptible flush in his cheeks.

you were relentless, weren’t you?

he cleared his throat. “i’m not in the habit of carrying patients,” he said, though even to his own ears, his voice lacked the usual firmness.

“i bet you’d make an exception for me,” you replied, your smile only deepening as you leaned back, clearly enjoying the effect your words had on him. there was a glint of something playful—and yet, something deeper—in your gaze.

for a moment, nanami didn’t know how to respond. he wasn’t accustomed to this. you weren’t just another flirtatious patient; you were different. you’d burrowed your way into his thoughts, disrupted his routine in a way he couldn’t explain.

with a soft sigh, nanami knelt in front of you, his hands firm but gentle as he took your ankle in his grip. you met his gaze directly, not backing down. and why should you?

he started to work, massaging the muscle in your leg, his movements slow and methodical. but even as his hands worked, a part of him was aware of the connection that had formed between the two of you. it wasn’t just the act of caring for you—it was something deeper. something unspoken, but there, just under the surface.

“i’m not going to keep letting you get away with this,” he muttered under his breath. but you heard it, of course, and it made you smile.

“you’re not supposed to keep me out of here,” you said teasingly, leaning back slightly, still watching him with that knowing look. “i think you secretly enjoy our time together.”

nanami stopped for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, something flickering between you. he let out a quiet breath, resisting the pull you had on him. “you’re a handful,” he said, but there was warmth in his voice now, something he hadn’t intended to let slip.

—

over the weeks, it became harder to ignore the tension that had grown between you two. nanami’s professional mask remained intact most of the time, but he couldn’t help but let it slip more often when you were around. your teasing had evolved into something deeper—flirtation wrapped in softness, words said with intention. you began to linger a little longer after your so-called “injuries” had been treated, finding ways to stay near him, just to be in the same space.

one evening, as he was finishing up his shift, nanami found himself unexpectedly drawn to your presence in a way that he hadn’t anticipated. you were sitting in his office, your legs crossed, looking completely at ease as though you belonged there.

“you’re here again,” he said, though there was no surprise in his voice anymore. he had come to expect it.

you glanced up from your phone, meeting his gaze with that easy smile that never failed to catch him off guard. “can’t stay away from you.”

he couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him, a sound that surprised even him. you really are impossible, he thought. but damn if you don’t make things interesting.

you didn’t say anything else, but your presence was enough. the room felt charged, like something was hanging in the air between you both. nanami shifted slightly, adjusting his glasses. he wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion from his shift or the way you made him feel, but tonight, he felt something he hadn’t before—a pull toward you that he couldn’t deny.

when you stood to leave, you reached out, placing your hand on his arm just for a moment. the touch was light, but it sent a ripple through him. his breath caught in his throat as he glanced at you. your face was serious, no longer playful.

“i’ll be back next week,” you said, your voice steady, almost as if it was a promise.

before he could respond, you were gone.

—

the days between your visits had always felt like routine to nanami—filled with the usual responsibilities, patients, paperwork, and the monotony of hospital life. but ever since you’d entered his world, there was a subtle shift in his thoughts. your presence had become a part of his daily rhythm, even when you weren’t physically there.

he found himself wondering, during his quiet moments between patients, about your smile, the way you always seemed to know how to tease him just right, how you made him feel something he hadn’t experienced in a long time: disarmed. even now, in the midst of yet another late-night shift, he couldn’t stop thinking about the touch of your hand on his arm—the warmth of it lingering long after you’d left.

and that was when he realized something. he didn’t want you to stop coming. there, he’d said it to himself, even if he wasn’t willing to say it out loud just yet.

—

nanami was still processing his thoughts from the last time you’d left, still unsure of how much of it was just you—and how much was his own reaction to you. but when he saw you walk through the door the next week, with a familiar glint in your eye and that same teasing smile, he knew exactly what was happening.

you didn’t waste time this time—there was no exaggerated tale of injury. instead, you came straight to the point, your eyes mischievous as you stood before him. “i didn’t want to be too dramatic today, but…”

nanami glanced up from his paperwork, his brows furrowing slightly. “but?”

you didn’t say anything for a moment. instead, you stepped closer, placing your hand on his desk—just close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from your skin. “i was hoping you might have time for me,” you said softly, voice quiet and seductive, a slight catch to it as if you weren’t entirely sure of his response. it was almost vulnerable in a way that took him by surprise.

for a heartbeat, nanami couldn’t say anything. his heart pounded in his chest as you stood there, so close to him that he could smell the soft fragrance of your perfume, feel the heat coming off your skin. he knew you weren’t here for an injury this time—not really. you had found your way back to him in a way that felt almost too intimate.

he cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses nervously. “i’m not sure what you expect from me, but if you’re here for another injury…”

you shook your head, a teasing smile spreading across your face. “no injuries today, dr. nanami. just… a little company.”

the quiet weight of your words hung between you two. you were persistent, and while nanami had originally assumed it was some harmless flirtation, something had shifted. he couldn’t deny that the idea of seeing you, spending time with you, had become something he secretly looked forward to.

he sighed, leaning back in his chair, and studied you for a long moment. he couldn’t quite put into words the feeling he had when you were around. maybe it was the way you made him feel seen, or the way you slowly peeled away his layers with every encounter. whatever it was, nanami knew he was walking a dangerous line, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“alright,” he said, voice low and resigned, but there was a soft undercurrent to it. “i’ll make time for you, then.”

you smiled, that playful glint in your eyes flickering with satisfaction. “thank you, kento,” you whispered, the softness in your voice almost like a secret only the two of you shared.

—

over the following weeks, the line between patient and something more blurred further. the flirtation, once lighthearted and innocent, had evolved into something more serious, something more significant. you found reasons to spend time with nanami not just for medical attention but for the connection between the two of you that had been quietly simmering under the surface.

sometimes, you’d linger in his office after your injuries had been treated, talking about your day, your life, or just sharing a quiet moment together. the conversations started to stretch longer, more intimate, and nanami noticed that he began to enjoy the sound of your voice. he began to learn little things about you—things that made his heart stir. your laugh, the way you crinkled your nose when something amused you, the soft hum you made when you were thinking.

he learned that you were always too hard on yourself, that you’d been through a lot in your life, but never let it show. he noticed the vulnerability in the way you’d look at him sometimes, as though you were waiting for him to notice. and for once, nanami didn’t feel the need to maintain his distance. he didn’t want to push you away.

but every time you flirted with him, he remained cautiously reserved, not quite allowing himself to fully lean into it. there was always a part of him that held back—the part that reminded him this wasn’t a good idea. he wasn’t supposed to fall for patients. but damn it, you made it impossible not to.

one evening, you came in as usual, this time with a strained smile on your face. “no injuries today,” you said, as though that was a small victory. “i just wanted to talk. if you have the time, of course.”

nanami glanced up from the paperwork he was working on. for the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel frustrated by the interruption. he felt… relieved, even. you weren’t here for an injury. you were just here to be with him.

“of course,” he said quietly, setting his papers aside. his gaze softened as he met your eyes. this is what i’ve been waiting for, he realized—this unspoken connection, these moments where it wasn’t about injuries or excuses. it was about the two of you.

you took a seat in the chair across from him, your gaze unwavering as you leaned forward slightly, the intensity in your eyes making his pulse quicken. “you know, i’ve been thinking about something.”

nanami raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “what about?”

your lips curved into a small, secretive smile, and you didn’t immediately answer. instead, you simply reached out, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead in an unexpectedly intimate gesture.

“you’re always so serious, nanami,” you said softly, the tenderness in your voice disarming him. “i think you should smile more.”

the simplicity of your words struck him in a way he hadn’t expected. he didn’t know why, but hearing you say that made something inside him shift. the tension he’d been carrying for weeks—the anxiety about getting too close to you—began to loosen.

nanami didn’t know how to respond at first. he was always so reserved, so careful about everything, but when he met your eyes again, there was an openness there that hadn’t been there before. he allowed himself a small smile, just for you.

“i’ll try,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

you leaned forward a little, your eyes bright. “good. because i’d like to see it more often.”

and with that, nanami realized the truth. he wanted to see more of you, too. more than just a patient. more than just the soft teasing and gentle flirtation. he wanted something real, something that neither of you had admitted yet, but that was undeniably there.

—

the surgery had been long and exhausting—hours spent under harsh, fluorescent lights, his focus sharp as he assisted the lead surgeon with meticulous care. it was the kind of work nanami was used to—demanding, grueling, but also strangely satisfying in its precision. his hands ached, his body was stiff, and his mind begged for rest as he made his way back to his office in the quiet hours of the night.

he wasn’t expecting much. just the usual—silence, paperwork he didn’t want to deal with, and perhaps, if he were lucky, a cup of tea from the breakroom. what he wasn’t expecting was you.

at first, he didn’t notice you. his office was dimly lit, the desk lamp casting soft shadows across the room. he shrugged off his coat, draping it over the back of his chair, and ran a hand through his hair, loosening his tie. his mind was already moving ahead—thinking of the report he needed to finish and the notes he had to add to the patient’s chart.

then he heard it: the soft, steady sound of breathing. his movements stilled. slowly, he turned toward the examination table, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. and there you were, lying curled up on the table, your chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm, your head resting on your folded arms.

for a moment, nanami simply stood there, frozen in the doorway. his heart gave a strange, unfamiliar lurch in his chest, an ache spreading through him that he couldn’t quite name.

you waited for me.

the thought startled him. he wasn’t sure if it was disbelief or something deeper, something warmer, that coursed through him at the realization. he knew you were bold—your shameless flirting over the past few weeks had proven that—but this? waiting for him after hours, in his office, without even an excuse of an injury to justify your presence? it was reckless, but also… endearing.

his steps were quiet as he approached you, his gaze softening despite himself. you looked so peaceful in sleep, the sharpness of your wit replaced by a vulnerability he wasn’t used to seeing. his fingers twitched at his side, tempted to brush away the strand of hair that had fallen across your face. he resisted, though the thought lingered.

he stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. his rational mind told him to wake you gently, to send you on your way, to maintain the boundaries he’d worked so hard to uphold. but something inside him—the part he’d been suppressing for weeks—kept him rooted in place.

it wasn’t just your presence that struck him. it was what it represented. you stayed. for me.

nanami finally allowed himself to exhale, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. he leaned forward, resting a hand lightly on the edge of the table, and called your name softly.

your eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused at first. when they landed on him, a slow, sleepy smile spread across your lips.

“nanami…” you murmured, your voice thick with drowsiness.

his chest tightened at the sound of his name on your lips. he cleared his throat, forcing himself to adopt his usual professional tone. “what are you doing here? you shouldn’t be—”

“i waited for you,” you interrupted, sitting up slowly. you stretched your arms, blinking as if trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “i just… wanted to see you.”

your words hit him harder than they should have. he didn’t respond right away, his mind caught between the rational urge to lecture you and the growing warmth spreading through his chest.

“you shouldn’t have waited,” he said finally, his tone softer than he intended. “it’s late, and you should be resting.”

you smiled again, this time wider, the teasing glint he’d grown used to returning to your eyes. “i couldn’t rest. not until i saw you.”

nanami felt his resolve cracking, the careful walls he’d built around himself beginning to crumble under your gaze. he tried to focus on the clinical details—the faint redness in your cheeks from sleeping on your arm, the way your fingers fidgeted slightly against the edge of the table. but all of it only made you more real, more tangible, and it was becoming harder to maintain the distance he’d fought so hard to keep.

“you…” he hesitated, his hand curling into a fist at his side. “you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“why not?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “it’s the truth. i like being around you, nanami. is that so bad?”

his breath hitched. he wanted to say yes—that it was bad, that it was unprofessional, that it was crossing a line he wasn’t supposed to cross. but the words wouldn’t come.

instead, he found himself stepping closer, the space between you shrinking until he could see every detail of your face—the way your eyes searched his, the way your lips parted slightly as if waiting for him to speak.

“it’s not bad,” he said finally, his voice low, almost like he was admitting something to himself. “but… it’s complicated.”

you smiled softly, undeterred. “complicated doesn’t scare me.”

nanami exhaled, his gaze dropping for a moment as though weighing his next words carefully. “it should,” he murmured, the faintest crack of vulnerability slipping into his tone. “i don’t know if i can give you what you’re looking for.”

you didn’t hesitate. “what if i’m not looking for anything specific? what if i just… want you?”

the words struck him like a blow, harder than he anticipated. his breath hitched as he raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for the usual teasing glint in your gaze. but there was none this time—no hint of mischief or lighthearted charm. only sincerity.

he swallowed hard. you made it sound so simple, so easy, as if he weren’t a man weighed down by his own doubts, his own careful walls. he’d spent weeks trying to convince himself that this was a passing infatuation, something fleeting on your part. but now, faced with the raw honesty in your voice, he couldn’t pretend anymore.

“i…” he started, his voice faltering. he looked away, his jaw tightening as he tried to collect himself. “you don’t understand how difficult i can be. i’m set in my ways. i work late hours. i’m not the type of man to make grand gestures or say the right things.”

“i don’t need grand gestures,” you said, your tone quiet but firm. “and i like the way you are—your quiet, your seriousness, your care.” you hesitated for a moment, your expression softening as you added, “nanami, i know what i’m saying. i’m not scared of who you are.”

something inside him gave way, the weight of your words pressing against the walls he’d built around his heart. for the first time in years, he felt seen—not just for what he could do, not just for the roles he fulfilled, but for the man beneath it all.

his hand moved almost unconsciously, reaching out to yours. when his fingers brushed against yours, he felt the faintest tremor in his chest, the warmth of your touch grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

“i don’t deserve this,” he said softly, almost as if to himself.

your fingers curled around his, steady and sure. “you do.”

and that was it. the last thread of resistance snapped. he stepped closer, his free hand rising to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, his heart pounding in his chest.

“i’m not good at this,” he warned, his voice low, rough with emotion.

“then let me show you how,” you whispered, your voice a promise and a plea all at once.

before he could second-guess himself, nanami closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was deliberate and slow, but no less fervent. his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you closer as if he were afraid you might slip away.

you kissed him back with equal intensity, your hands clutching at his shirt as if to anchor yourself. the quiet of the room was broken only by the sound of your breathing, the world narrowing down to the press of his lips against yours and the warmth of his touch.

when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. “this… this scares me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

you smiled, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw. “then let’s be scared together.”

a quiet laugh escaped him, a rare, unguarded sound that softened the lines of his face. and for the first time in what felt like forever, nanami allowed himself to let go of the doubt, the fear, and the weight of his own expectations.

because in this moment, with you in his arms, it didn’t feel so complicated after all.

thank you for reading this! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

[labseraph]

The scars on Lan Wangji’s body did not map his real suffering, which is the constant loss of his loved one and the urge to keep them alive with his thoughts and hope.

*taken from

https://x.com/Kyoshich/status/1222683696416817153?s=20

Thank you, @unforth !

Edited to credit the artist

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode IV

Seed of Life

This is @zestys-stuff 's OC. All credits to this character goes to this beautiful, talented artist. Thank you again for allowing me to explore and create with him!

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, angst, early pregnancy smut (will be forewarned before it happens), daddy daughter drama, Ralak being little rough because reader won’t stop teasing him, Ralak literally has blue balls, ball play, blowjob, brief thigh fucking, likely incorrect na’vi, teacher/student dynamics/roleplay, p in v, quickie, squirting, masturbation, dirty talk, sexual tension, age gap 

Disclaimer: This chapter entails pregnancy and sexual intimacy during early pregnancy. I include a warning directly before the smut happens in the case that you want to indulge in this chapter but aren’t necessarily up for the pregnancy smut. 

Word Count: 10k sorry

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: thank you guys for always being so patient with me. i love yall too the moon and back <3 happy holidays and a happy new year! also, I’ve realised that I unintentionally decided that Kiri is not involved in this series (i dunno honestly, it’s just occuring to me that I’ve never really mentioned her before and it feels difficult to incorporate her at this point i suppose). It seems like we (reader) have taken her place in this au in regards to being jakes adopted ‘babygirl’ (nothing else though—no superpowers or anything loool).  

Synopsis: After telling Ralak that he's going to be a father, the reality dawns on you that you need to break the news to your own father.

<- Previous -> Next

This pregnancy shouldn’t be much of a surprise to you, honestly. How could you not be? After such a breeding it would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant. Yet the news wasn’t quite sinking in, even when Tsireya looked at you with wide eyes and spelled it out for you. But now that you’re walking towards the tsahìk, you’re faced with reality and it begins to sink in as you count each step you take. 

Forty-two…  

The words that rolled off the tarsem’s tongue echo in your skull.  

Forty-three…  

Etching themselves into the bone, leaving you with no space to deny the truth. 

Forty-four… 

“You are with child.” 

The ringing in your ears stops as your vision refocuses on the stone cold expression of the Tsahìk. Her voice is unfaltering and clear as it delivers the news to your ears a second time. Bowing to the taller woman, you sweep three fingers away from your forehead and turn your heel to walk away. But before you can take two steps she announces something that makes your ears stand tall.  

“A boy.”  

Her two harshly spoken words strike through your chest, a sinking feeling now brewing in the pit of your stomach. You stop dead in your tracks and lift your head that was once tilted down to your feet. Things become even more real, having you force down a wad of your spit to keep your vision from splitting again. You’re barely able to use your voice—your mouth partially open and your tongue rolling from the churn of your tummy.  

“Thank you, Ronal.” You manage to squeak a decibel or two over a whisper, dropping your head again to lock your stare to your feet before fleeing the now-crowding scene. You overhear the people murmuring the news as you scurry away to your marui pod.  

‘The forest girl expects the firstborn of the village’s best warrior’;  

‘She won’t make it out alive!’; 

‘Did you hear? She will birth the first of a new kind. A kind with demon blood’.  

If your legs could go any quicker, they would.  

A child grows in your womb now. A child for the man you love—Ralak. The man who deserves it most. You’re scared and excited all at once. Proud to bear a son for such a notable and fearsome man. But afraid of how your family will take to the news.  

This was your first month of being a mated pair, and you’ve already succumbed to your most primordial instinct to mate. And with what everyone is already whispering, you’re scared of much more than that. Is what they say true? Is this a risky thing? Will he be teased for being different? Will he be rejected from the clan?  

Does Ralak… even want this?  

You both hadn’t even sat down and spoken about the possible consequences of such a cosmic event—your synced cycles. What if he hadn’t meant all the things he said? Or if he really just couldn’t prevent the things that he did during his rut? How would he react if that were the case?  

Your mind is running at a hundred clicks an hour and your nerves are wringing your stomach that it takes the hot sand spilling through the cracks of your toes to make you realise that you’re already home.  

And there he is, in all his glory.  

Doing nothing other than sharpening his damn spear. Sitting on his knees, leaned back with his flexed abs and gathered brows, concentrating on his task—blissfully unaware of the gossip spreading throughout the clan. The sight brings serenity to the white noise in your head, leaving nothing but the crash of the waves and the splash of the ilus off in the distance. I  

Ralak’s ears twitch as he senses your presence, but he remains focused on the stroke of his whetstone against the blade. He can feel your apprehension from where he sits, and he can already tell what you’re here for. Yet he chooses to keep his appearance no less than stoic, but not enough to be intimidating.  

“Tanhì.” He hums low enough that you strain to hear him.  

“I need to speak with you.” You utter, wetting your dry lips with a quick swipe of your tongue. You stand there fidgeting with your fingers as you await a reply from your husband. It’s almost mortifying how silent this man can actually be. You see the slight tilt of his head and his ear perk up to listen closely. Taking this as your cue to speak, you try to find the words to say.  

How do I say this?  

Ralak is a simple man, perhaps it’s better to give it to him straight. An easy, ‘I carry your unborn son’, would do, right? You begin to gnaw on the dry skin on your bottom lip as you think. But his silence is really getting to you today. How can he sit there so… unbothered? Not even a glance thrown your way or an eyelash batted. Maybe you should just spit it out — ‘you got me pregnant’.  

“Hm?” He lets out a muffled grunt, swiping the whetstone against the spearhead. It sounds innocent. Like he’s just immersed in a task and couldn’t quite bring himself to completely stop. 

“We no longer need to prepare for my heat.” You blurt out, not even knowing where the words came from. You witness his spine straighten and him quickly stilling his movements.  

Little did you know his heart gallops at the speed of a direhorse, thumping wildly between his ribs as he prepares himself to finally hear you utter the words. Oh, how he had been waiting for your sweet voice to sing the news. But he realises that you seem to need an extra push to say them.  

“And why is that?” Ralak husks, still unmoving.  

You wait for him to turn around. To look your way. Something.  

But… nothing.  

“I’m pregnant.” 

Ralaks heart skips a beat and his breath catches in his throat. A grin spreads from ear to ear, so strong and wide that if you were really paying attention you would have caught the way his ears stand at full height.  

But you were too busy fighting the bubble of the blood in your thumping heart, trying to keep your frustration to a minimum. You had expected more. For him to turn around, at the very least. All you could hear was the da-dump and the silence between you two. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

Perhaps it’s all the hushed chatter from earlier or maybe it’s just the new surge of hormones and out-of-whack pheromones but you can’t help the burn of your eyes as they fill with tears.  

“So w-what? Not even a glance my way? You knock me up and have nothing to s-say for it?”  You choke back your heated tears of frustration, Ralak now huffing a vehement sigh. “You’re not even surprised, or—” Your blubbering is cut short by your husband's quick movement.  

Ralak instantaneously brings himself to his feet and storms over to you, towering over your petite frame. Now he’s peering down at you, dark, smouldering eyes holding the most intimidating gaze with you as he closes the distance between your bodies. He’s still damp from seeing to the ilus this morning that when your chest touches his cold, bare stomach, it hardens your nipples into stiff peaks.   

“Surprised?” He rasps, his large hand flying to your lower stomach, gently pressing into it. Heaving shoulders slowing as he steadies his breathing, Ralak lowers his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear— 

“Do you not think I had every intention of putting this baby inside of you?” 

Hearing this spoken in such an assertive tone sends shivers up your spine—Ralak knows exactly how to handle you and your… sensitivity. He always has. Your tail sways uncontrollably behind you, earning a well concealed smirk from the giant before you. It’s always been one of his favourite parts of you, but now—oh, now he has a new favourite part of you.  

Your soon-to-be swelling belly.  

“I have known.” He admits through a whisper, smoothing his entire palm over your budding womb, planting a quick kiss on your temple. “Your scent… it has changed, tanhì.”  

“What?” You whisper, almost pulling away from his tender touches to look at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”  

“I wanted to hear you say it. I have been waiting… to hear you say it.” He’s the one to pull away this time, looking you deeply in the eyes. His free hand raises, using his thumb to wipe away a tear seeping from the corner of your eye. “Please. Do not cry.”  

You don’t even know what to say. Yet again, Ralak leaves you speechless—with trembling lips and a swelling throat.  

“And you are actually eating the payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] I cook.”  

“What?” You snort, letting loose a sudden, nasally giggle. You drop your smile and try to fix a serious expression on your face. “What do you mean? I always eat your payoang niktsyey [fish wraps]”  

Ralak laughs, his three fingers tucking hair behind your ear, “I see you throw them to the ilus, tanhì. I am no fool.”  

You laugh again, snotty-nosed and teary-eyed, sniffling when the uncontrollable giggling fit ends. “It seems that our son enjoys your cooking, ‘lak.” You bubbler with a wobbly smile, blinking harshly to clear your vision.  

Ralaks eyes bulge as they frantically search yours—a beaming smile spreading across his lips, his pointed teeth on full display. “Son?” He exhales softly, his left brow bone jumping ever so slightly.  

All you can do is nod, letting your wobbly smile morph into a grin. The tears come back like they never left, twice as much and even hotter than before. You swear you see Ralaks eyes gloss over too, glistering in the sunlight.  

Ralak sinks to his knees, coming face to face with your soft tummy. 

“My prrnen [baby]. My ‘evengan [son; boy child]. It is your sempu [daddy].” He whispers, heated lips slightly pressed against your silken skin. Chin tucked to your chest, you watch in awe, straining to listen to his hushed whispers. “I have wanted you for so long.”  

Hearing that—oh, how hearing that makes you feel. You feel warm inside, your heart so full all your earlier fears melt away. Ralak looks up at you, azure blue eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration—gratitude and admiration.  

“My sweet tanhì. You have made me the man I have always wanted to be.” He croons at you, planting a long, soft kiss on your stomach—eyes still locked with yours. “And I thank you for that. Nìt’iluke [forever; never-endingly]”  

And just like that, the butterflies you felt when you first laid eyes on this man come rushing in, flapping their wings at full force.  

“I am your mate.” You sputter out a little, tiny sob. “It’s what I-I am supposed to do.”  

Ralak stands up, holding eye contact with you the entire way.  

“You owe me nothing. It is an honour that you carry my unborn, y/n.” His hand leaves your stomach to grasp your hand, intertwining his thickset fingers with yours. “You will be a nawm [great] mother.” 

“And you will be the best father.” You choke back your sobs, struggling to get your words out. A comfortable silence passes, where you both immerse yourselves into one another’s touch. Until Ralak witnesses your expression morph into something of worry.  

“What is it?” He asks in a hushed voice, keeping his tone calm and cool.  

“Speaking of… fathers.” The column of your throat undulates when you gulp hard, “How will I tell mine?” 

Ralak swallows, too. The thought had crossed his mind a few times over the past week. He saw the answer as simple – tell him. Ralak holds a lot of respect for your father, looking up at him as a superior given his status and skill as a warrior. And although he’s slightly intimidated by your father, Ralak sees this respect as mutual—therefore, it should be returned. Surely, this will go smoothly if you both remain polite.  

Right?  

“We tell him. Together.” Ralak grasps your hand once more, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, his heavy accent shining through now that he’s high on emotions, “I keep you safe. Both of you.”   

—— 

Both you and Ralak make your way down the shore towards the webbing of overlapping mangrove roots. Though you insisted on breaking the news to your family by yourself, he was adamant that he accompanies you. You couldn’t bear the thought of your father lashing out on Ralak, especially in front of the others. You tried to explain that to him, but he simply shook his head and tightened the clasp of his saya (knife sheath) on his hip.   

You make the trek by foot, wanting a little more time to think about what you were going to say, and he ensured to stay right behind you. Quite literally—looming behind you like some sort of bodyguard. Every na’vi you pass are quick to avert their gaze elsewhere when they see the giant you have as a shadow. They tried not to look to begin with, but it was a rare sight to see you two so close together among the clan.  

Their hushed whispers are kept to an absolute minimum but Ralak hears them nonetheless. It doesn’t bother him. Not anymore, at least. It used to bother him before he had met you—hearing the chatter of the gossip about his voluntary six year celibacy despite being the chief’s right hand man. And now that the murmurs entail nothing but his relationship with you, he could care less.  

But then he hears the indistinct mumble about the babe budding in your womb. It’s something along the lines of ‘it being some demon hybrid’. The comment alone has Ralak screeching to a halt, his head snapping in the direction of a stocky, young warrior in training. One that Tonowari had relentlessly urged Ralak to teach until he begrudgingly gave him a couple combat lessons.  

Ralak’s eyes narrow and sharpen, snapping down to shoot a threatening leer down at him. That's all it took for the stumpy na’vi to drop his head in shame and scurry away with his younger companions.  

Sensing that Ralak is no longer on your tail, you turn around, half-expecting him to be five steps behind. Instead, he’s right where you left him, with a reassuring smile and an extended hand gesturing you to ‘continue’. You return a light hearted smile and spin around, taking another step towards your family marui.  

—— 

“To what do we owe the visit?” Neteyam smiles as he greets you at the marui door, arms splayed out for a hug. You smile and slump into your brother, allowing him to envelope you in a warm embrace. “We haven’t seen you in what feels like weeks, sis.”  

“Because we haven’t.” Lo’ak adds, lurking behind his bigger brother, arms crossed over his chest with a grin on his face.  

“Hey Lo’.” You say in a low voice, smiling at him as you let go of your big brother. Ralak silently stands at the marui door, head awkwardly tilted in an attempt to fit himself in such a tight space. 

“Hey, sissy.” Lo’ak throws an arm around your neck, patting your shoulder a few times as he walks you further inside and away from Ralak. “What’s up with the shadow?” He doesn’t even try to quieten his voice as he nudges his chin in your husband's direction.  

You force a little laugh, unwrapping his arm from around your neck so you can inch away back to your ‘shadow’. You back up until you bump into his solid build, making a muffled thump when you collide. He steadies you by the shoulders, lidded eyes flicking down to check that you’re okay. He can sense your nervousness. 

“I–we… have something to tell you guys.” You begin, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Where’s everyone else?”  

Lo’ak’s eyes squint, brows furrowing as the gears in his brain grind twice as fast to figure out what you could possibly be calling a family meeting for. “No fucking way. Already?” He blurts out when he finally puts two and two together. Your eyes widen when they dart over to him, catching sight of the shit eating grin plastered to his face.   

Fuck, is this skxawng going to spoil it for me? You think to yourself, apparently loud enough for Ralak to hear. He squeezes your shoulders before sliding his hands down the full length of your arms and letting go. “Mawey [calm].” He breathes, his head still hanging low. You look behind you, tilting your head up to meet his comforting gaze.  

“Hey, babygirl.” Jake’s voice snaps your attention back down, having you look your father in the eye. His smile is as wide as his arms as he approaches you for a hug.  

“Dad. Hey.” You whisper, returning the hug and snuggling into his chest. You bask in the moment, lingering onto how things are now—before you drop the bomb on him.  

“I missed ya.” Jake chuckles, rubbing your back. He finally lifts his head and sees your ‘shadow’ hovering a little closer than needed. “Jeez, let her breathe, boy. She’s just huggin’ her old man.” Ralak keeps his head hung and takes a small but noticeable step back. Jake gives you a quick peck on the head as he begins to pull away. “What have ya’ been up—”  

Jake cuts himself short, leaning back in to smell your hair. His eyebrows gather when he recognizes the familiar scent. Neytiri has smelled similarly a few times before. Jake grinds his teeth, scrunched brows and narrow eyes giving away his current state of mind. His hands slide down your arms, gripping then as he looks you dead in the eye. “Y/n. You got somethin’ to tell me?” 

“Dad–” You swallow down the knot in your throat, already getting choked up.  

Jake's lips purse into a thin line as his death-stare immediately averts to Ralak. And for what feels like an eternity, nothing but silence fills the room. The tension in the air is almost suffocating. Jakes eyeing Ralak down whilst Ralaks stare is locked on the way he’s holding you.  

You glance over at your brothers. One’s obviously got it figured out, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. And one is completely clueless—poor thing. You look back at your father who is now seething, leer averted back to you as he exerts all his energy into being patient.  

“What’s going on? Guys?” Neteyam breaks the silence with a worried tone to his voice. His eyes bounce from person to person, until they land on his brother.  

“He knocked her up.” Lo’aks whispers harshly, not even trying to be discreet. Neteyams brows raise and now he is, too, staring at you. You feel all the blood drain from your face and suddenly you’re extremely light in the head.   

Mortified is an understatement.  

Everyone is clearly waiting for you to confirm it. But you’re having such a difficult time saying the two silly little words. The pressure is on now, you could even see Ralak straining to hold his tongue. You finally muster up a cowardly nod, and immediately your fathers grip intensifies, squeezing your arms firm and tight. He’s looking down at you with eyes of disbelief and somewhat disappointment, frantically searching yours to see if this is really the truth. You let loose a low hiss, wincing when you feel the pinch of his grip.  

Not even another second passes when you hear the slap of your husband’s large hands grabbing ahold of your father’s wrists.  

“She is pregnant.”  

A deep, but low growl rips from Ralaks chest. In other words, ‘never lay your hands on a pregnant woman’. Ralak dwarfs Jake as he inches in a little closer, grasping his wrists just firm enough to send this message.  

“Yeah. Got it, bud.” Jake returns a growl through his teeth and tightened lips. He shifts his position slightly, eyes flicking down to acknowledge what his son in law is trying to get across. Nonetheless, Jake stands his ground. “Get your hands off me.”  

Ralak tries to regain his composure, but his protective instincts have just about gone haywire. The urge to protect has never been so intense before. It’s like his soul knows that there’s just more to protect.  

More at stake. 

Ralak looks down at your fathers hands once more, silently making his point clear. He holds eye contact with Toruk makto whilst he remains unmoving.  

“Lak…” You squeak a warning to your husband, who only flutters his jaw as a response. Lo’ak and Neteyam are on edge, both concerned that their father has a grip on you, but even more so that Ralak has a grip on their father. They watch intently, trying to decipher if and when they need to intervene.  

To everyone’s surprise, Jake exhales harshly through his nose and gently pulls away from you, but wrenches his wrists away from Ralak’s grasp. “Sorry, kid.” Jake spits an apology, readjusting his position to be directly in front of Ralak. “Care to explain how this happened so damn quick?” 

“Dad!” You shout in disbelief, wedging yourself back in between the two.  

“You know what? Don’t even answer that.” Jake snaps.   

“You know you are really no one to talk! Where’s mom? Mom!” You go on the tips of your toes, leaning from side to side to look for her behind both the two male na’vi.  

“‘xcuse me?” Jake purposely blocks your view by bobbing his head wherever yours goes. “I am still your father and you will not speak to me that—” Jake steps to the left to avoid Ralak and walk towards you. Ralak quickly adjusts himself to be the wall between you and your father, not allowing Jake the chance to even finish his sentence. Ralak is now looking down at Jake with a stoic expression, trying his best not to come off intimidating or challenging in any way.  

All to no avail.  

“You got a problem with me, boy?” Jake grumbles through his clenched jaw, getting in Ralaks face now.  

“No. Only keeping my word, sir.” Ralak simply responds.  

Jakes brought back to the very moment he made Ralak give him his word. His word that he’d never let a thing happen to his baby girl. The night you completed your iknimaya. The night he granted Ralak the permission to mate with you.  

The night Ralak took your virginity. 

Jake stalls for a few seconds, taken aback by Ralaks behaviour but a little impressed at the same time. Jake's expression softens upon realizing that Ralak is just protecting his mate—just as he does Neytiri, especially during her pregnancies.  

But there’s no way in hell that Jake will be the first one to back down here.  

“Mom!” You call for her once more, hoping that she’ll swoop in and save the day.  

Neytiri rushes in, hand on her hip where she keeps her dagger sheathed—worry and concern etched into her features. She analyses the situation, taking in the scene of her own mate standing face to face with yours. She glances over at you, seeing the panic in your eyes and the hand on your stomach that you didn’t even know you had placed there. Slowly walking up to the two male na’vi, she places a firm hand on her mates chest, pushing him away from Ralak. “Ma’ Jake. What is happening here?”  

Jake’s pressing his lips firmly together, not wanting to say the words. He shakes his head a little, huffing through his nostrils before placing a hand on his hip. His other hand extends in your direction, as if he were pointing out the obvious. Yet he remains choked up and speechless, his hand falling to his thigh as he gives up.  

Finally, he mumbles, “Go on. Tell her.”  

Neytiri looks back at you, eyes trailing back down to your hand that’s mindlessly resting on your stomach as she awaits for your answer. You feel the burn of her eyes, yanking away your hand when it becomes too much. Being the daughter of Mo’at, a tsahik, Neytiri needed nothing more than a quick glance and sniff to know what’s going on. “Is this true?”  

“Yes, mom. It is true. I am.” You say in a defeated tone of voice. Ralak shifts himself, settling close beside you now rather than in front of you. He always had an even greater respect for your mother.  

Neytiri’s expression only grows softer, until there's no trace of concern left in her face. Her smile is downturned but her eyes are bright, glistening with joy as she pulls you in for a warm embrace.  

“It is a blessing from Eywa, my child.”  

She pulls away from you, now looking over to Ralak. Neytiri lays a gentle hand on Ralaks upper bicep, “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations] .” Ralak signs ‘I see you’ to his mother in law, exchanging a light hearted smile with her.  

It was no secret that Neytiri longed to be a grandmother. Her days of children are over now, although she was expecting her eldest, Neteyam, to give her a grandchild first. But Ralak — Ralak is a remarkable, mighty warrior and hunter. The olo’eyktans right hand man, and undoubtedly the best fisherman in the village.  

In fact, Ralak was one of the first people Neytiri took a liking to after she adjusted to the way of water. She always felt that he was a good suitor for her daughter.  

“Are you kiddin’ me? It’s barely been two months!” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.  

“And a day for us, Jake.” Neytiri tries her best to keep a calm, but firm voice. “They are a mated pair, they are having a family now. It is Eywa’s will.”  

Jake quiets himself, reflecting on his harsh ways. He sighs, loudly. His eyes finally glance down to what everyone in the room has been looking at, now staring at your protective hand that mindlessly lay over your womb once again. He grits his teeth, averting his stare to the ground, eyeing the charred wood of the fire pit. His tongue clicks as he parts his lips, muttering— 

“I know… I know, alright? She’s just—” He looks up at Neytiri, then Ralak, and then you. “She’s my babygirl.”  

It’s his way of saying, ‘I just want to protect my family.’ 

“Dad. I am but—but I’m not your baby anymore. I’m not a kid.” You croak, finding it hard to hold eye contact with him. “Your grandson is the new baby of this family.”  

Jake tries to fight the way his eyebrows scrunch together, it was like hearing about the news of his firstborn son all over again. He exhales slowly, nodding his head and extending his arms to hold you. His warmth envelopes you completely, leaving no room for any cold or harsh thoughts and feelings to linger.  

“You keep ‘em safe.” Jake's chin presses into the crown of your head as he mutters the words to Ralak. Ralak had always had a hard time understanding Jake's native slang, but this he understood— loud and clear.  

“Always.” Ralak answers firmly.  

Your safety has been, is and will always be his number one priority.  

Jake nods once, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go fully. “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], you two.” 

“Thank you, dad.” You smile whilst Ralak bows his head. Neteyam and Lo’ak finally come over for their hugs, making a comment of their own as they release you from their grasps.  

“I’m gonna teach him everything I know.” Lo’aks grin is unnerving and a little sinister, giving away the trouble that he’s already trying to get your son into.  

“Please don’t.” You joke back with your brother, even though you’re being dead serious.  

Neteyam jabs an elbow into his brother's rib cage, disciplining him for his mischief. “Agh — do not worry, Uncle TeTe will keep him in check.”  

“Well, that’s a relief.” You say softly with a smile on your face, “‘Uncle TeTe’. I like that.”  

“Hey, don’t forget about ‘Uncle Lo’Lo’.” Lo’ak chimes in.  

“Eh. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know? What do you think, lak?” You jester, looking up at him to be met with a slight smirk.  

“Very… hiyìk [strange; funny].” Ralaks smirk pulls at his lips a little more. “But, at least it is not ‘ak’-ak’.”  

You swear you hear a little chuckle from everyone in the room. All except Lo’ak, who is staring at Ralak with a deadpan expression, arms crossed defensively over his chest. It feels like an eternity passes until Lo’ak finally booms with laughter, extending his arm out to Ralak, who gaily reciprocates and meets Lo’aks’ with a smack.  

“I like this bodyguard of yours, y/n. He actually has a sense of humour.”  

You let loose a scoff and roll your eyes, about ready to wrap this whole thing up and lie down in bed. It’s seemingly obvious, seeing that everyone is giving you space as they take note of your restless body language and bowed shoulders.  

“If you are tired, you should rest.” Neytiri advises, just as you feel Ralaks hand tuck under your arm to support your weight. “Your body is working hard right now.” 

“Yeah, mom. I think I need to lie down for a little.” You mumble, leaning into your mate a little more.  

Your family practically ushers you out, encouraging you to get some rest and to get off your feet. Ralak walks close to you on the way home, keeping with the pace you set to the tee — only intervening with a hand to your hip when necessary.  

And when you finally slump into bed, your eyelids flutter shut before Ralak can settle himself beside you.  

——smut warning—— 

You rouse to Ralak drawing the curtain of your marui, blocking out the orange hue of the last eclipse. It dawns on you that you’ve slept out most of the day. You didn’t even realise you were so tired to begin with.  

“You should have woken me earlier. I slept out the day.” You mumble, sitting up in bed and lightly kicking off the sheets.  

Ralak turns around, surprised that you’re awake. He curses himself under his breath; he was hoping to keep you sleeping by drawing the curtains but instead he did the opposite.  

“You needed to rest.” He says, making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have been more tired recently.”  

“Yeah?” You snort, “…and what else have I been, sir know-it-all?” 

Ralak chuckles, his eyes falling to your stomach. “…a little more hungry.”  

You smile a little, remembering his fish wrap comment from earlier.  

But then you witness his half-lidded eyes glaze over with something of… wanton. It takes a second to realise that they’re no longer staring at your belly. They’re staring at your tewng [loincloth]. More specifically, the mound imprinting it.  

It’s the way your pussy is being so tightly squeezed by the thin cloth covering it. It’s the one thing that Ralak can’t help himself from indulging in admiring. Then his eyes snap away,  unexpectedly meeting yours. The stare he’s giving you has your thighs rubbing together and your lower tummy tingling.  

“…a little more tempting.” His voice is thick like honey, laced with lust and arousal.  

In every way. From the way you fill out your top more, to your scent—you’re becoming more  

irresistible the farther along you progress. Your heart beats a little harder between your ribs as you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. His lecherous gaze is fixed, blue eyes piercing into yours. It’s been too long since he’s been inside you that it aches.  

But he’s been patient.  

Especially since the day he figured out you were pregnant. With the way you smelt he found it hard to keep his distance at times but nonetheless, he did it. But the truth is that you haven’t had penetrative sex since your cycles synced.  

To be clear, he took care of you just fine.  

Tending to your needs whenever you initiated intimacy with him but he never took it further than his fingers and mouth. After seeing you so battered by his own hands he found it hard to put you in a position that could garner a similar result again.  

For a while, he lost trust within himself.  

That he no longer had the capacity for self control. Not only did he feel like he didn’t deserve it, but he never expected you to return the pleasure either. He had already taken you on his own terms. Repeatedly.  

Ruthlessly.  

So when you ate one to many of his payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] — when the new earthiness of your scent wafted past his nose — he knew. He knew it stuck. He knew your womb swelled with his child as each day passed. And the urge to protect only swelled with it.  

He became even more gentle with you. Handling you with care when your skin softened and your hips became a little fuller. Ensuring he had excess when he cooked. Weaving an extra thick blanket for you to sleep with when he was off on duty with Tonowari.  

It ached most when he’d come home just to see it kicked off onto the floor, with you on your stomach and your leg propped up just right. Your loincloth would always shift to the side, just enough to expose plump folds that innocently peek through the seam of the thin fabric. Fuck, it more than ached. It made him tender. Throbbing in his own tewng.  

Just like now.  

He dares not to break the steady, intent stare. Or else he may steal another glance at the softness between your thighs. But he can see in your eyes that you feel similarly. You always give him that look before doing something ‘troublesome’. You break eye contact first, your eyes now landing on his tewng.  

Fuck. 

Your eyes widen a little when you catch sight of the growing, thick bulge in his loincloth. Your gaze locks onto it, taking in every detail. From the thick stripes on his thighs to the way the twine of his loincloth is cutting into his v-lines. You can even see the outline of the crown of his cock.  

His stomach rises and falls from his uneven breathing, and his abs pop out one by one as he leans further back—supporting his torso with his arms behind his back. He was never shy about his body, and he certainly isn’t now.  

“Then, why do you resist me?” Though it's a question, it doesn’t sound like one when the words drip off your lips. Your voice is soft and feigned with innocence, yet you're shuffling to get on all fours to crawl over to him. You truthfully don’t care for the answer, you knew that it would be the same old song—‘he doesn’t want to hurt you’. 

“I hurt you.” He says coldly—simply, glancing at the fading scar on your shoulder as you settle yourself on your knees beside him. He watches as your hand finds purchase on his knee, and slides up his thigh. “And now that you are with child… I—haah”. He’s cut short with a shaky breath and slight jolt when you cup his bulge with a bit of force. He looks down at your hand, dainty and slender, barely grasping half of what’s under his tewng.  

“You worry about me too much.” You mumble, more focused on the speed at which his cock pulses at. “Yet still, never yourself.” You feel around, sliding your palm up and down its length, earning a rough exhale from Ralak in return. His lidded eyes dart back over to you, taking in the sight of you almost bent over his lap.  

“That so?” His voice is thick and gruff.  

“Mhm. ‘m always telling you that, aren’t I?” You hum softly, slowly moving your hand further down between his legs, firmly cupping his balls. They’re heavy in your hand, hot to the touch and— 

Eywa. 

“They’re swollen.” You whisper breathlessly, your glossy eyes meeting him with concern. They dart back to his crotch, your hand now fumbling with the twine of his tewng, hurriedly trying to unravel the knot to get the suffocating fabric off him. 

“‘tis fine.” He winces as he spits out the words, watching you pinch him a little while struggling with the taut material.  

Ignoring his words, you continue with your task, a bit more gently now. And when the knot comes undone, the twine falls off his hips and the tewng loosens with it. You tug it off him and see that they’re not only puffed up but also darker in colour. They’re firm and pulled close to his body, perfectly round and stripes well-defined.  

Shamefully, it turns you on to see his balls so full.  

Just the thought of them being so swollen with his seed that they’re aching and throbbing to empty themselves inside you—fuck, it’s making your teeth grit. You sit back into the dip of your feet and stare as your breathing becomes heavier. The more you look the more you realize that they’re pulling tighter and tighter towards his core. You look up at him, a little surprised. Your arousal is etched into your features and it’s more than obvious in your body language. You want to know how they’d feel in your mouth. How they’d taste.  

If they’d even fit.  

Without another passing second you bend over his lap, tail high in the air and legs spread—the overpowering scent of your arousal filling the air. You shove your face between his thighs, inhaling deeply his musky scent. You let out a breath of desire, one that sounds nothing short of pleasure and satisfaction. He smells too good. You can’t help yourself but give his firm balls a quick, kitten lick. The giant above you holds back his chuckle, finding your behaviour cute and honestly a little amusing. Feeling like the butt of a joke, you firmly grasp his length and tug it upwards, causing his balls to pull even tighter.  

“Y/n.” He hisses your name, adjusting his legs to rid himself of the strained feeling. You wet your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue, and press your cheek against them. They’re hot—heating up a degree higher the more you tease him. Just as you pull your cheek away and manage to fit one of them into your mouth, his hand flies to the back of your head, balling your hair into his fist.  

“You need not to—” your tail curls and the tip of it tickles against his chest, “—haah…do this.” Ralak huffs out a sigh of frustration it seems, looking down at you with somewhat of a predatory leer. You pop off with a pwah, catching your breath and turning your head.  

You both share an intent stare with one another, one that feels more challenging than anything. He’s insistent that he’s undeserving of this, and you’re insistent that he must be taken care of. His grip loosens on your hair, until he lets you go completely.  

“Shh…shh.” You shush him, eyes narrowing as they remain locked onto him. You slowly slide off the bed one leg at a time, sinking to your knees and settling yourself between his legs—now looking up at him with doe-eyes. The sight before you has your heart palpitating, just like the sight of your face so close to his cock has his jaw clenching.  

Ralak quiets himself by locking his jaw, waiting patiently to see how this unfolds. It’s the first he’s seen you in this position, on your knees, between his. His cock twitches in excitement as clear, thick beads of precum begin to roll down its length. You swallow thickly at the sight, wrapping your dainty fingers around its girth to pull it close to your flushed lips.  

Ralaks ears flutter and his eyelids grow heavy, his chest heaving as he shifts his weight to the palms of his hands—sitting up.  

You open your mouth, strings of your saliva connecting your lips together. They break when you lower your head, taking the mushroomy, glistening head of his cock into your mouth. It’s mostly sweet, and a little salty too. The corners of your mouth sting as you accommodate his thickness, and you struggle to open your jaw wide enough to take him further into your mouth.  

His head dips forward, eyes slamming shut when he feels your wet, warm tongue press against the underside of his cockhead. His hand flies to your head again, gently cupping the back of your skull as he lets out a strained breath.  

Muffled noises vibrate through your nose as you swipe your tongue side to side against his head. It throbs against your tongue each time it hits that sensitive spot right down the middle. You suckle and swipe at the same time, using your hands to pump the rest of his length until you're grunting and snorting for air. You come up, gasping to fill your lungs.  

His hand quickly slides from the back of your head to cup the swell of your cheek. His calloused thumb swipes at a bead of saliva rolling down your chin and pops it back into your mouth. “What are you doing, my tanhì?” He whispers the rhetorical question, ensuring his voice is calm and gentle. It sounds as if he’s given up—given in.  

Without answering, you take him back into your mouth, locking your jaw once you open it as wide as you possibly can. You stick your tongue out as far as it’ll go and look up at him with eyes that begin to water. He looks down at you with a concerned expression, which morphs into one of astonishment. Your head goes lower and lower, taking inch after inch of his cock down your throat.  

The tears in your eyes finally spill over, and your nose begins to burn. Half of his length is down your throat and you can barely breathe, but the more his face grimaces from how good you feel around him, the more of him you urge yourself to take. You hold onto his hips, using them as leverage to shove more of him down your throat.  

“Hnng. Easy.” He groans roughly, pushing back against your shoves. “You are pregnaaah—mmn, you will make yourself sick, tanhì.”  

Lifting your hand from his hip, you smack away his hand and take him full hilt, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making it bulge. You stop for a second, slowly inhaling through your nose to focus on not gagging. You try moving the back of your tongue, slowly stroking the rest of his length with your hand.  

“Ah, shit.” He exhales shakily, his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut. He looks focused, like he’s concentrating on not cumming down your throat right then and there. Lips parted slightly, each breath he takes becomes louder and more raggedy. His thigh muscles tense up and his legs spread a little more, his hand finding its own way to the base of your kuru.  

Chest swelling with pride, you begin to bob your head and coat his cock with your sticky spit. The more slippery it gets the harder he has to fight back his choked grunts. The grip he has on your kuru is tightening, as if he were preparing himself to pry you off his cock before he fills your throat.  

Suddenly, his head sinks back and his jaw clenches—hard. You could feel it. The way his cock twitches. The way it’s heating up. The way it’s swelling in your mouth. Gurgled noises are escaping past his lips, and he purses them tightly together in attempts to keep himself quiet. His core flexes, and his hips start to stutter. His whole body jolts from how sensitive he’s getting, and finally he thrusts into your mouth, the pointed tip of his cock slamming into the back of your throat. 

You silently gag as his hips stammer into you and he’s fucking your throat in frenzied little movements. He’s trying his hardest to be as gentle as he possibly can.m, but your throat is so soft and tight around him. You swallow around his cock as you try to take a breath and suddenly his erratic movements still. 

“Y/n.” He lets loose a dying groan as his head slumps forward and his inebriated eyes struggle to open.  

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

His voice is gravelly and thick with restraint. You love to see him like this—hear him like this. You can’t help the wandering hand that’s making its way down to your soaked tewng. You try to touch yourself through the fabric, but have a hard time finding your clit with it covered like this. Exasperated, you shove your hand under the band of your loincloth and use all four fingers to rub sloppy circles into your puffy clit.  

Ralak is too immersed into this to even take note of your desperation. He’s too desperate himself. And if you don’t stop now, he really won’t be able to help himself. He begins tugging you by your queue, trying to pry you away from him. With each hasty swipe of your fingers you suck a little harder, as if you were trying to match your pleasure with your mates’. He pulls at your kuru even harder but you’re unbudging, firmly holding the base of his cock as you relentlessly suckle on the most sensitive part of his tip.  

“Stop.” He growls out of breath, finally looking down just to be tipped close to the edge by the sight below him. You look dumb and fucked out with his cock stuffed in your mouth, broken moans vibrating against his length as you franticly touch yourself.  

Finally, he yanks you off him with one swift, hard tug, his cock slapping his stomach when it pops out of your mouth. You land on your behind, legs spreading wide open as your fingers work away at your now throbbing clit.  

“Why? Can’t handle it?” You taunt him between pants and breathy, hoarse moans. Rather than answering he looks down at you with a cocked brow, kuru still in hand. Both of you stare at one another, shoulders and chests violently heaving as you both pant for air.  He’s raw and pulsing, twitching from the heartbeat in the crown of his cock.  

It's suspended mid air, jumping from how insanely aroused he’s left himself. Sticky beads of precum constantly roll down his shaft, one after the next and his balls are throbbing too. You get back on your knees and lunge for his cock again, tongue darting out to have another taste. He pulls you back, his hand still having a firm grasp of your kuru.  

“Is this what you are like when you have been bred?” Ralak huffs, a little taken aback by your lewd behaviour. His gaze shifts to your pathetic attempt to make yourself cum, and a smirk spreads across his lips. “So desperate.” Your silence has his brows scrunching together and him yanking your head back so you’re looking up at him. A growl rumbles in his chest as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you to your knees with him—his hung cock swaying directly in your face.  

A smug little smile pulls at your lips when you realise you’re riling him up. You witness his jawbone flutter, his ears laying flat against his skull. He just wants to stuff his cock back down your throat to teach you a lesson. Instead he shoves your face into his crotch, your nose burying itself into the space between his cock and balls. He holds you there for a few seconds, just long enough that when he finally pulls you away you suck in a tiny gasp of air.  

Ralak sighs a low, lengthy breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. He can’t understand how such a little thing can be so feisty. To act as if he couldn’t pin you down and take you without a scuffle. Truthfully it only makes him even harder. It only further proves that you are really the woman for him.  

Slowly bringing you to your feet, he keeps your face pressed to his body so that your bottom lip drags along his torso as you make your way up. Your hand is still stuffed inside your tewng, slick fingers working hard to find their way back to your clit. With his free hand he grabs a hold of your hip, and steadily backs you up against the wall.  

When your back hits the wall, a shaky breath is expelled from your lungs. He lets go of your kuru and rips your hand from your tewng. He then wedges his knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clit, making it flutter uncontrollably. His movements are quick but gentle, filled with purpose and desire. His eyes dart back and forth between yours as he searches them, his face just inches away from yours.  

“Answer me, little one.” He whispers into your mouth.  

“Yes.” Your answer is breathy and short.  

Ralak heaves a heavy sigh.  

“I am trying to be gentle…” He speaks the words through gritted teeth, using both hands on your hips to spin you around to face the wall. He lowers his head until his lips graze against the tip of your ear. “…but you make it so hard for me.” He growls, using the perfect amount of force to pin you against the wall with his body. His large hand swiftly moves to your lower stomach, cupping it to act as a protective barrier between the wall and your budding womb. 

“No need to be. I can handle you just fine.” Your lips are pressed tight to your teeth, face flush against the smooth surface, making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Pregnant or not.” 

Ralak chuckles.  

“Is that right?” He speaks in an almost condescending tone, hurriedly tugging down your loincloth just enough to get access to your cunt. Without warning, he bends his knees a little to align your pelvises and then shoves his cock between your slickened, warm folds. “Oh tanhì, you are soaked.” His voice quiets down into a hushed whisper, “All from sucking my cock?”   

A mewl splits your lips just as all the blood rushes to your face, staining it a bright pink. Your pussy clenches around nothingness only causing more of your slick to ooze on his cock. Your breath turns shaky, tail swishing wildly behind you. You can’t move even if you wanted to. He’s got you pinned down, quickly reminding you of his strength. And had it not been for his hand on your abdomen you would be completely plastered to the wall and taken on his terms.  

“Tsk-tsk…Have you no shame?” Ralak tuts, holding you still. “Or must I give you a lesson on self-restraint?”  

Despite his cockiness you can sense the urgency in his body language and in his voice. You can feel it in the way his hips stutter, as his cock slides back and forth between your pussy lips. His own desperation. The desire to be inside you. The need for release.  

“Go on then, karyu.” You moan softly, causing his grip on you to loosen for a millisecond. Hearing that name brings a feeling of nostalgia. Of lust. You push back into him, your slippery hole trying to suck him inside with a few quick movements of your pelvis. “But I know you’ve been desperate… desperate to fuck your numeyu.” 

“Oh, little one.” His chuckle is dark and depraved, his protective hand stiffening as if he were preparing it for what's to come. “Yet you are trying your hardest to take me inside you.” He licks your ear lobe to tip, whispering, “so cute.” 

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You mutter under your breath, steadying your feet to ground yourself.  

Ralaks ears flicker and stand tall, then immediately lay flat to his head—his brow cocking in astonishment. His smirk grows wider, the heat in his chest spreading to his extremities. Now that pushes him over the edge.  

“Say that again, numeyu.” He challenges you in a growl, angling his hips so his weeping cockhead prods at your entrance. He ensures not to let the buck of his hips win, keeping you empty and yearning.  

“Haah… afraid to take what’s yours.” You purr, rising to the tips of your toes to try sink him inside you. “Fnawe’tu—” 

Smack. 

The sound of his swollen balls making contact with your puffy clit is almost as loud as your broken gasp. You smile open mouthed as he holds his position balls deep inside you, firmly pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. He’s grinding his back teeth, digging his chin into your shoulder to quell the rumble of his chest from how tight you’re squeezing his cock.  

You whine from the fullness of him stuffed inside your cunt, his unmoving hips sending a clear message of dominance. He’s hunched over you, body weight pinning you mercilessly against the wall, hand over your womb to keep your unborn safe—as promised. Still being gentle enough.  

But you want him to lose it.  

To fuck into you like he were in rut again. To use your pussy like a fucktoy to satiate his own greed and self pleasure. He deserves that much, for being such a competent and loving man to you. Yet it seems the only way to bring that out of him is to play dirty.  

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You repeat shakily. 

Smack. 

Another deep and hard thrust into your sloppy cunt. He lets loose the rumble in his chest this time, bearing his canines and putting most of his weight on you now. Lips pressed tightly together, your whimper is muffled and outright pathetic, pinched brows giving away the pleasure rippling through you. Still, he remains unmoving, undeniably making it clear who has the most leverage here. But that doesn’t really matter to you—you’re getting what you want, one way or another.  

Right?  

“Voìk si, little one [behave].” Ralak hisses, fighting the inner conflict within him.  

“Haa—” Your laugh that follows is a little sinister, open mouthed and smug. Hands pressing into the wall you push off its surface, sinking him deeper inside you. “No.”  

“Alright.” His voice is husky, thick with confidence and temperance.  

With a rough, quick tug, his cock slips out of you with a squelch, hanging freely between his legs. Your slick mixed with his precum slowly dribbling off his tip and onto the floor between your pointed feet. You fall to the flat of your feet, panting and whining from the sudden emptiness.  

“W-Wait.” You squeak, hastily getting back on the tips of your toes to stuff him inside you again. “Please.”  

“What was that?” Ralak asks, voiced feigned with innocence. “A little louder.” 

“Please.” You barely whisper, backing up on him.  

“Come now, tanhì.” His hand slips from your hip to grip his cock. Giving it a few strokes he teases your cunt with his cockhead and you instinctively shimmy down. Hips snapping back to prevent you from taking him inside, he dips his head so his mouth is next to your ear and husks, “You can do better than that.”  

“Please!” You moan loudly in desperation, reaching down to your knees to unfetter yourself from your tewng [loincloth].  

“Please, what?” Ralak spits the last word through pursed lips, ready to give you exactly what you want if you just ask for it nicely.  

“Please put it back inside.” You beg pathetically, finally getting the knot of your tewng undone. “Please, fuck me.” 

“Ahh, there’s my good girl.” Ralak praises you with a grin, sinking his cock into your warmth at a leisurely pace. His breathing stutters for every inch that penetrates you. “Was that so hard?”  

“Fuck.” You moan in relief, spreading your legs wider. He’s tamed you and he knows it. “No.” 

“No…?” Ralak says it like a question, hissing when he bottoms out in your cunt.  

“No, karyu.” You answer coyly, voice faltering from the pressure of his cockhead pushing into your cervix.  

“Agh—haah” Ralak lets out a gruff grunt in response, his hips now snapping back and forth out of his control. He’s huffing and puffing next to your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you in a frenzy of need. Swollen balls repeatedly slapping against your clit, it’s almost impossible to hold back the gurgled noises escaping your throat.  

“Fuck—so—fuckin’—deep—fuck.” The curses are punched out of you as he relentlessly smacks into you again and again.  

“Lì’fyaz [language.]” Ralak chides in a growl, hand slipping down to pull back the hood of your clit—taut.  

The continuous sting of your clit has your legs shaking and the way his cockhead is repeatedly stimulating your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s almost too much all at once yet you yearn for more. Your cunt clamps down around him, especially when the tension becomes so tight you feel your stomach double-knot. Ralak hums when you tighten around him, only making him rut harder into you.  

Pulling back, he glances down at you sucking him in, your tail curled tight to your back and his cock plunging in and out of your pussy. He can see just how tight you are as your pussy walls grip his girth mercilessly. And with the protective hand on your abdomen, he can feel each thrust against the palm of his hand. It makes his chest swell with pride— 

You carry his child yet still take him so well.  

“Oeÿa tsantu [my good girl]” Ralak slips into his native tongue, panting in an accent as thick as tree sap. “Oeÿa numeyutsyìp [my little student]” 

Ralaks cock heats up inside you, heating your core along with it. It’s the same familiar sensation you feel before he provides you with your release. The feeling that keeps your eyes squeezed shut and breath shallow. He knows your close and slows his thrusts like he usually does, fucking you a little harder rather than faster, angling his pelvis so he’s right in your swelling g-spot.  

Your hands fly behind you, grasping at whatever’s available as your orgasm washes through you. You gush all over your thighs, cum dribbling down your legs to your feet, some spattering on Ralak as he fucks and holds you through your high. It’s sudden and uncontrollable, leaving you sputtering out nonsense and your legs shaking violently beneath you.  

“There it is. Good muntxate [wife].” Ralak huffs with a smirk, relishing in the quick, feverish flutter of your cunt on his cock. His voice is shaky from his uneven rhythm now that he can finally allow himself to finish too. “Love—hng—when you cum for me, you—ahh, haah—know that?” 

He begins grinding to you, shoving you further into the wall as he focuses on his own climax. He uses his feet to kick your legs closed, and pulls out of you, stuffing himself between your thighs. He’s groaning and growling, hunched over you with bent knees and flushed, flattened ears. Skin slapping against skin, he humps at your thighs, thick cock sliding back and forth over your still pulsing clit.  

His cockhead continuously pokes out between your folds, tip oozing and oozing with precum. Both his hands fly to your hips, gripping them with force as his thrusts become almost violent. You struggle to keep yourself standing as his hips smack into you repeatedly, your body jolting with each thrust. He gives you one last, harsh thrust, holding you still against him as you feel his cock throb wildly between your thighs. You look down to see his huge load shoot out in thick, white ropes. He’s grumbling behind you, giving your thighs an extra few uncontrollable thrusts as he peaks in his high.  

Finally you fall to the flat of your feet, his arms instantly snaking around your waist to support your weight entirely.  

“I told you no taunting, tanhì.” He’s referring to the time he opened up about his first rut, “Next time, you ask nicely. Tslam? [Understand?]” Ralak says breathlessly.  

“Sran, oeÿa karyu. tslolam. [Yes, my teacher. I understand].” You blubber, fucked out and jaded.  

—— 

[iamreadytobecomefrog]

HELLO, ANYONE KNOW THIS ARTIST?

So real quick, I keep finding random TF art and I want to support the artists, but can't find some of them. If anyone knows any of the artists attached to the pictures can you please tell me in the comments. I appreciate any help I can get ^^

The second pic has the artists signature at the bottom but I don't know where to look for them or if that's their full username.

If anyone is curious, I found them on a random TikTok account and they didn't give credit and Google images was no help.

UPDATE!

The artist's name is NamikazeNami1 on X (or Twitter)! Big thank you to @mechagoenna for finding the artist! :D

[needfantasticstories]

“Many places I have been

Many sorrows I have seen

But I don't regret

Nor will I forget

All who took that road with me”

-The Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd

This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja, after 86 chapters, 300k words, and 10 months of joy, laughter, tears, heartbreak and love, has finally reached its end. 

Adjuration is a tragedy that is nothing short of an act of love. That much is clear in the passion and dedication put towards the story, the characters, and the message Freyja is trying to convey. This fic will teach you about love. About death. About the inevitability of existence and why despite knowing it will all come to an end, there is still meaning in trying and hoping and loving each other. In loving yourself. You will laugh, you will cry, you will hope and you will despair as you read this story, but you will not be able to put it down.

It’s hard to say goodbye to something that has been so important to and loved by so many people. So we won’t. Instead, we will say thank you for this incredible journey and the community this fic has built. For the friendships that have been made and the endless inspiration you have given us. Thank you for wanting to tell a story, and for letting us join you around the campfire to listen.

Thank you.

(If you like Linked Universe and haven’t yet read Adjuration, see below for spoiler free reviews of this fic and artist credits.)

This is an Adjuration is the kind of story you fall in love with, the kind of story you think keep thinking about long after you put it down. The kind you keep finding hidden details in after you think you’ve got it figured out. 

The characters are distinct and people with their own voices, motivations, relationships and histories. You’ll have your favourites but love them all. They influence how you’ll see the characters in everything else. 

It’s full of moments where everything clicks and everything before is recontextualised in a way that’s so satisfying and make the whole story very re-readable. A time travel story where all loops are already closed, where you can know but not yet understand what will happen. It’s long, complex, and beautifully, meticulously planned and detailed. It’s clever and considered, funny and heartbreaking. 

A story that whispers ‘it matters’ over and over. It is worth it to love, it is worth it if it doesn’t last forever, it is worth it to give someone a little more time, it is worth it to fight. It’s about loving others and your world and finding grace for yourself. 

It’s loss and tragedy and the cruelness of fate. It is the sacrifice and the breaking. 

Full of heart to both fill yours and break it in the best possible way. 

It’s about love. Always.

By @toyouhellohowareyou

Sometimes, it’s hard to explain to others why art moves us.

I could tell you This is an Adjuration will make you cry, laugh, and sit at the edge of your seat in anticipation. And it’s probably true - I did all of that as I read, often with a coffee in one hand, early in the morning as I got ready for the day. 

But that’s not the reason why I’m writing this.

The real reason is how it followed me during the rest of the day.

You see, at a certain point I realized this isn’t a story about Links going on adventures. Well, it does feature Links, and they do go on adventures, so let’s talk about that for a minute.

The first thing that caught my attention about this book was the characters. Each individual is unique, interesting, and exciting to follow. Not only are the Links individually compelling, but one thing that stands out in Adjuration is how the relationship between each Hero and their own worlds matter, and these connections shift, evolve, break and grow as the plot progresses.

Freyja does an incredible job of bringing together impactful storytelling with humor and heart. This is an Adjuration starts with an interesting premise, and then twists and turns in directions you wouldn’t expect. It’s rich in thought-provoking moments, soft joy and intense action, blended in with carefully crafted time travel and magic.

Adjuration sucked me into the world it builds, combining believable characters with fascinating stories, an unnervingly devious antagonist, plot twists, and lovingly crafted details that slip unnoticed until you’re surrounded on all sides. It made me cheer for characters I feel as if I’ve known intimately for years, made me worry for their safety as I would for that of a loved one, kept me hunting for hints and hidden references, pulling on a thread to try to find the end only for it to twist and loop into itself and show me a completely new side to the story.

Yes, This is an Adjuration is a fanfiction piece that explores the winding river flow of the Legend of Zelda timeline and how the stories of each Hero merge into each other. It also stands out for its heavy emotional content, and it doesn’t shy away from angst and hurt.

But to me, Adjuration is an epic journey that taught me how the choices we make, make us in turn. It’s a tragedy that deals with pain and healing, and it bares naked the non-linear nature of grief. It’s a celebration of the things that make us unique, of our flaws, an essay of the impact of little acts of love. Indeed, it’s a story about love.

I can tell you now, This is an Adjuration moved me. It still does. It has a special way to surface in my mind in unexpected ways at seemingly random times, from something as simple as tossing an apple core, to watching a lightning storm in the distance, or finding a picture of an old friend.

And every time, without fail, it makes me think about love.

By @sunny-porridge

This is an Adjuration is a wonderfully and beautifully crafted story about love, loss, and choice as the various incarnations of Link come together and travel through time. Freyja seamlessly weaves a tapestry of setup and payoff across different timelines and loops, in the best-constructed time travel plot I’ve ever seen on page or screen. Even at its surface, Adjuration is an emotional rollercoaster involving tragedy and the soft moments that make that tragedy worth it. But the deeper you look, the more meaning you can pull from every chapter of this amazing work. This work has made me cry, squeal with delight, and think more deeply about its themes all while having an absolute blast reading it. So in summary: READ IT. READ IT. READ IT NOW. YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

By @life-in-winter

While I love that every chapter is emotionally enthralling, with carefully woven, visceral tension you crave in any good story, yet Adjuration is more than that, and you feel it in the careful weave of each character and plot point. Nothing is lost or unanswered. It's the kind of story that, by the end, makes you stop and take a hard look at your own life. Are you appreciating the now? Are you savoring joy? Are you so wrapped up in fear that you can hardly take care of yourself? Do you know who you are?

This story is more like an external experience. It's riding atop a tsunami. How do you handle that ride, Link?

There aren't enough words to describe how amazing this fic is.

@needfantasticstories

Artist credit

Legend: @gia-d

Hyrule: @bittirsweeteer

Time: @toonblade

Sky: @noorahqar

Warriors: @whitewinterstar

Wild: @weavingstarlight

Twilight: @bluury2

Wind: @thewitchdoctor39

Four: @lunaopus

Red: @peepthatbish

Blue: @glowingmin

Green: @winterfen

Vio: @waterfallstream

Shadow: @deleetrix

Wolfie: @linkiscool333

Fierce Deity: @awildsilver

Ravio: @lele5429

Malon: @tooner-tastic

Dink: @passerinesoncaffeine

[artist-ellen]

Young Rhaenyra

It's happening! At least a year after Season 1 is relevant I'm finally starting the House of the Dragon series. Like before I'm probably going to just do the ladies, men's fashion in the show has it's weird moments but it isn't my field of interest/expertise so I'll burn out pretty fast if I have to draw that many pants.

We're starting from the beginning with Rhaenyra's yellow dress. The idea of the dress is fine... but the choice of fabric and finishings really undercut her status and character. Supposedly there was a fabric shortage when the show was starting which affected the costuming decisions but I am going to have opinions on how the final product looks. It's understandable for example if a student ran into technical difficulties, but it doesn't mean a lower quality end result wouldn't affect their grade. Anyway there are a LOT of costumes in the series that bewilder me. Especially with the amount of costumes that resemble Spirit Halloween purchases, the fabric often looks too thin or cheap, the appliqués are sometimes painful... and the world-building through clothing makes no sense (watch Sumalee Eaton on clock app for a professional's review with more detail).

Speaking of world building one of the reasons I put this design challenge off for so long was that in my first ASOIAF redesigns I referenced clothing and fashion across different time periods. So when HotD is set ~200 years before ASOIAF... the answer of when/what to base things off of gets real complicated. While keeping up with the reactions to HotD as it aired I came across Sumalee Eaton’s review of the costumes and they recommended that the show lean into its Byzantine inspiration. Every once in the a while the show will have a costume that references a sort of kokoshnik or mantle...but then sabotages itself with either unlined fabric or some haute couture thing.

This is getting too ramble-y, sorry. This is her yellow dress if it leaned into Byzantine fashion, if it reveled in the wealth of the Targaryens with gems and jewelry that are worn with their everyday wear. It's casual, the shape feels appropriately young and unserious but royal all the same. (And before anyone worries this is not an April fools joke, I really am doing a Season 1 redesign series)

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram, tiktok or check out my coloring book available now \ („• ֊ •„) /

https://linktr.ee/ellen.artistic

[fatsackfails]

I have no words. I stared blankly at my screen as tonight's Very Important People finished its credits. This was art. Brennan Lee Mulligan and Vic Michaelis are artists

The whiplash of going back and forth between chaos and profundity, sadness and corporate sponsorship, real and dream was amazing. Thank you to the entire VIP team for making this episode nearly 30 minutes long just so I could enjoy it for the first time longer

[eand47]

Troublemaker

ONE SHOT - Portgas D Ace/Reader (female)

DESCRIPTION: Modern AU | High School - smut, fluff, slight angst

SUMMARY: You are known around school as quite the rebellious girl, who makes more of her statements by wearing high knee stockings which are against the school dress code. He is the new guy in school who always sits on the back of the class and every time he puts his glasses on you find it him extremely adorable. The problem is that he doesn't seem to want to socialize with anyone and you don't know how to approach him until one lucky day you get to become his project partner.

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, explicit sexual content, NSFW, mentions of bullying, mentions of cannabis/weed, mentions of violence, mentions of death, lost of a parent, both characters as 19 years old, oral sex (f! receiving), nipple play (f! receiving), slight aggression, use of condom (as you should!!!), hints of depression, old-mindset and views teachers, MDNI

WORD COUNT: 20,5K

✰ masterlist ✰

NOTE: Thank you all for your patience ♡ I hope you enjoy this little modern au story of high school Ace and Reader. I want to point out that I HAVE NEVER EVER BEFORE WRITTEN A SMUT so please keep this in mind once you reach this point of the story. It was my first time so please bear with me as it was cringe and very challenging to write at the same time, but anyway haha. I hope that it is not that bad. Enjoy ♡

another thing to add - this one shot is a special one for my girl @3rtxaa as if it wasn’t for one of her posts of how she images real life Ace, the idea of it would have never been born, ly girly ♡ ♡ ♡

!ALSO PLEASE IF SOMEONE KNOW WHO IS THE ARTIST BEHIND THIS FANART OF ACE IN THE BANNER LET ME KNOW SO I CAN CREDIT THEM!

Autum is just around the corner, and it is time to get back to school. You can’t wait for this school year to finish and be done with high school once and for all. It is not like you have had the worst experiences in the past four years, but you are ready for something new and mostly to leave the pretentious school your parents have signed you in. You are desperate for something new and exciting. Your town isn’t small, quite the opposite, but you still want to move and live somewhere else after you graduate this year.

Parking your car in the parking lot of your school you let out a long sigh. ‘Same faces, same cases’ you thought to yourself. Grabbing your big bag full of text and notebooks, which you must now leave in your locker, from the back seat of your car, you hopped off and shut the door. After locking the car, you start making your way to school. Pulling your skirt down as you feel it raising up, you sigh annoyed once again. You have always hated school uniforms, and how unfair it is that girls must always wear skirts and the boys pants like you are in the 60s. At least the colors of it aren’t so bad – a dark royal blue with a blazer in the same color and a white shirt under it. You are always wearing over the knee stockings under it and not a full set of stockings, which has caused you troubles a few times. Some old-school teachers found this quite inappropriate, and it goes against the school dress code, but this hasn’t stopped you from wearing them again and again.

The school is known for being one of the most prestigious in town. And while you can disagree with how true this is, your parents’ biggest pride is that their daughter gets to study there. Which you never get because they are very laid-back parents who support you and your rebellious nature. You have wanted to move to a different one many times, but you never voiced it as you don’t want to disappoint them. But now it doesn’t matter as all you need to do is push through the next nine months. Taking a step inside the old but well-maintained building you make your way to your locker. Putting the code in the padlock you have, you unlocked it and quickly emptied your heavy bag in it. Before you close it, you pull your phone to check what class you are having first so you can grab the textbook you need.

“Literature.” Someone says behind you. You recognize the voice immediately and turn around.

“Thank you, I would be lost without you.” You reply as you wrap your arms around your best friend Robin. Pulling away from the hug you grab your literature textbook and close your locker as you and Robin start walking towards your class. You have been friends since the beginning of high school, from the first day of school you two click immediately. Since then, you have been unseparated, she is like the sister you have never got to get. This was the first summer where you both didn’t have enough time because of work to hang out every day but it was worth it as now you have enough saved money to spend on whatever your heart desired.

“How are you doing today, excited for the last first day of high school?” She giggles as she sees you expression.

“You better help me get through this year, because if we don’t go to the same university, I’m offing myself.” You joke with her, even though there is a bit of truth in what you say. Even if you both want to study for different programs you have made an agreement that you will still be at the same university. You aren’t one of the most social people to begin with despite your bubbly nature, so being in a totally new environment without your best friend will be like a living hell for you.

“Of course you will get through it, you have me after all.” She smiles and nudges your side as you enter your literature class. There aren’t many people here yet, but your eyes draft to the back of the room. On the last single desk is sitting a guy who you have never seen before. You and Robin take your seats in the middle of the room next to each other. Turning your head back you take another look at the guy over your shoulder. With one hand on the desk and the other on the windowsill with his body leaning on the back of the chair and manspreading his legs he looks quite tall. His dark raven black hair with messy curls falling freely around his frowned face which is turned to the window so you can only observe his side profile. His nose is straight, and his lips are full and somehow so alluring to your attention. Another thing that catches your attention is his freckles which thanks to the lighting you are able to notice even though he is two rows behind you. Turning your head slowly to Robin, who is scrolling on her phone, you nudge her with your elbow.

“Hey, Rob. Who is this guy on the back of the class?” You lean closer to her and whisper so only she can hear you. She raises her head from her phone and looks at the back of the class, squinting her eyes so she can take a better look at the guy.

“No, idea. Maybe he is the new guy. I heard some people from our year talking about having a new classmate.” Robin turns back to you with a shrug.

“I didn’t know we are having a new classmate.”

“Me, too. I found out today when I came, so it must be him.” She says and turns her attention back to her phone. You can’t stop but take another look at him. His position hasn’t changed but the moment you look at him, his eyes move and lock with yours. His stare is pierced, your eyes widen from embarrassment and quickly look away. Even for the ten seconds that you were able to see his face, he was handsome. You can’t remember the last time when a guy has had your interest so quickly by just his looks, but this one seems to have this effect on you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the loud annoying laughter by no other but your least favorite person to exists in this school – Isuka. Rolling your eyes once you see her, you open your notebook and start drawing some doodles just so you don’t need to look at her. Taking her seat right next to you she brushes her ginger hair with the back of her hand and smirks.

“Hey, (Y/N). Robin.” She says and her dumb protégés – Lyla and Nora laugh along with her. You just side-eye her and say nothing. “I missed you, two. Especially you (Y/N), how were working as a lifeguard at the kid’s pool this summer? Did my daddy pay you good?” Isuka made fun of you in her typical arrogant tone with a fake smile on her face.

“He obviously didn’t pay good enough the nannies you had growing up.” You finally look at her and give her the same fake smile she is giving you. You have known Isuka since the start of high school and since day one she picked on you for whatever reason. It isn’t some kind of rivalry, sometimes her comments are pure bullying, but you have never let her affect you. The only time she almost got under your skin was when you caught her with your so-called ex-boyfriend making out by the pool at the graduation’s party a few months ago. You didn’t care so much about him and what he did as much as with whom he did it. But this is in the past now, you are more than glad that you don’t have to deal with this guy anymore, but still every time you think of it your blood boils only because of the disrespect this guy has caused you.

“Hm, be careful there, do I need to remind you who Derek choose?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she tries to irritate you more. Instead, you laugh out loud – does she really think that a guy like Derek is the prize?

“Isuka, if you think a guy like Derek is the goal, then I really pity you from the bottom of my heart.” You coo with face sympathy for her which leaves her mouth open. Robin starts giggling next to you. Isuka frowns with her eyebrows ready to say something, but the teacher comes in and the whole class goes silent. You haven’t noticed that everyone has arrived until now.

“You got her good this time.” Robin leans closer to you and whispers.

“I’m so sick and tired of this spoiled bitch.” You whine quietly only for Robin to hear you. She only nods with her head as the teacher starts to speak.

“As you all are aware, this year is the most important for you all, especially given the fact that one of your major exams is on English and literature. If I haven’t been strict enough with you till now, then this year will be totally different.” You can’t stop yourself from snorting and whispering to Robin while the teacher continues with her ‘welcome back’ speech.

“Yeah, it’s not like she has ever been nice to us at least once. Old wanna be Barbie.” Both you and Robin shared a quite laugher, but it is quickly interrupted by your teacher.

“Did I say something funny Miss (Y/L/N)?” The sixty something woman, with long thin blond hair and badly done makeup for her age looks stern at you as she waits for your response. “Care to share with the class?”

“I think I will keep this one for myself, Mrs. Kenet.” You half shrug with one shoulder while giving her a smile. The teacher only gives you a warning look before continuing.

“I don’t want to waste more time in meaningless talks so before we start, please the new student, stand up and introduce yourself.” Mrs. Kenet gestures to the guy in the back to stand and introduce himself with her face unpleased as always. Everyone turns their heads to the black-haired guy waiting for him to stand up. You are carefully observing him as he clears his throat and stands up.

“My name is Ace and I’m the new student, obviously.” His voice is low and raspy but still deep. Now as he stands up you are able to take a better look at him – his shirt isn’t properly tuck in his pants as the school demands and its sleeves are rolled which is another thing some teachers might complain about. Also, the tie that the guys are demanded to wear tightly around their necks is very loose which is going to cause him to receive a comment from our teacher immediately as she is one of the demanding ones. You move your eyes to where your teacher is standing, and you can see her already frowning over her book with all the students’ names in it.

“Mr. Portgas haven’t you read the schools guidebook about the dress code?” She asks as she shoots him with a very judgmental look.

“I did.” Ace replies, putting his hands in his pockets and shrugging as he doesn’t see the problem with his outfit. In his eyes he has done everything as it says in the stupid seventy-page school guidelines book he received two weeks ago, and his mom made sure he reads it. He is wearing the stupid school uniform and the suffocating tie around his neck, what more this old hag wants from him.

“I will ask once Mr. Portgas – tuck your shirt, roll down your sleeves and fix your tie.” Mrs. Kenet straitens her posture and crosses her arms over her chest as she starts taping with her finger on her forearm waiting for Ace to do what he is told. He bites the insides of his cheeks and clenches his jaw as he tries to not cause himself problems from the first day and the first class in the new school. After all he has promised his mother that he would behave… as much as he can. Rolling his sleeves down and tucking the front of the shirt in his pants he keeps his eyes on the old hag which is now on his list with teachers he will not stand. Fixing the tie last, he gives her a ‘are you happy now’ look to which Mrs. Kenet nods and lets him sit back down. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at her, Ace unintentionally looks at you and your eyes lock once again. Why are you staring at him again? Does he have something on his face?

He overheard your interaction with the bratty girl earlier and thought it was funny. Though, he can’t help but notice that you are somewhat troublemaker yourself. The interaction with the bratty girl and then the teacher, you are not one of the amenable ones. On top of it, you checking him out doesn’t go unnoticed either. But Ace is planning to stay out of trouble this year, mainly because he has promised his mother, who had to move to entirely new city just because her son got expelled from his previous school for bad behavior. Still, he can’t move his eyes from (Y/N), if he catches your name correctly. As last time, you are the one who breaks the eye contact first and turns your attention to whatever the teacher is talking about. His eyes stay on you a little longer and draft lower on your body. White knee stockings with a little bow on the side – this isn’t very ‘dress code’ friendly, you should definitely get scold for this. ‘Troublemaker’ he thinks to himself as he opens his notebook and starts writing whatever Mrs. Kenet is writing on the board.

Squinting his eyes to see better, Ace sighs as it is pointless to do so, so he pulls his glasses case from his backpack and places them on the bridge of his nose. He hates them but lenses irritate his eyes way too much, so he must suffer with the glasses. The class finishes in forty minutes so the moment the bell rings Ace is one of the first students to get up and leave. You are getting up from your chair when you feel someone bumping into you accidentally.

“Shit, sorry.” The deep low voice behind you says. You don’t have much time to react as Ace, if you remember correctly his name, is already leaving the room. You follow him with your eyes as he leaves the room – he is definitely something, but what exactly you can’t pinpoint yet. But he is cute, especially with glasses on. He doesn’t give off the nerd vibe but there is this thing about him that tells you he is the type which prefers to be by themselves.

“Easy there.” You hear a mocking voice behind you. You turn around to meet with Isuka’s insolent smile. “I saw you eyeing the new guy, but if you think you have a chance with a guy like him, I really pity you from the bottom of my heart.” She repeats the exact same words you’ve told her earlier. Instead of giving her the satisfaction of offending you in any type of way, you just eye her from the top to bottom and snort out laughter. This causes her to stomp with her foot on the floor like a toddler. You and Robin are grabbing your stuffs to leave the room when Isuka’s annoying voice fills up the space. “Mrs. Kenet, (Y/N) is wearing again unappropriated stockings to school.” Isuka points her finger at you. Mrs. Kenet’s voice echoes through the room as she calls out your name.

“Miss (Y/L/N), how many times you must be told that these revealing cloths are prohibited in school.” Her whole face frowns and gets red from anger. “Don’t you have any dignity for yourself, after all this is a prestige school not some strip club.” She screams in your face. You glance at Isuka who is passing by you with her entourage while giving you dirty looks. “Listen, when I’m talking to you Miss (Y/L/N).”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kenet, but in my defense, they are quite high and not revealing.” It is pointless to even try to defend yourself, as Mrs. Kenet won’t take your word for anything as she doesn’t like you in general; not only because you never listen and continue to wear your high knee stockings but because you always have something to say in your defense.

“I think you are begging for detention from the first day Miss (Y/L/N).” You are about to protest against her words when you feel Robin tugging you on the arm. Turning your head to her you see the way she is begging you to not get in trouble from the first day, so you just sigh. Lowering your head you murmured under your breath an apology. “I didn’t hear you Miss.”

“I said, I’m sorry and that I will go and change my stockings.”

“If I see you around the corridors today and you are still with these you will be staying after classes, you understand.” Her voice was stern and cold as aways.

“Yes, Mrs. Kenet I understand.” You reply and she lets you and Robin finally go as the bell for your next class rings. Walking as fast as possible, so you are not late for your next class, you are fuming. “This bitch Isuka if she didn’t say shit the old hag wasn’t going to notice anything.”

“I know, but also aren’t you tired of getting detentions for the same thing over and over again?” Robin is keeping your tempo as the biology classroom is on the other wing of the big school building so you two must cross almost half the school to reach it.

“Which side are you on?” You look at her with disbelief even though you know she has a point.

“Of course, yours. But getting detention every time about the same thing should ring some bell in your mind.” She giggles next to you as you make your way to the classroom. Walking in the room just a second before the second bell goes off to indicate that the class starts, the only desk available for you and Robin to take is the one in the front row. Both of you groan as you hate sitting in the front row, but you have no choice as your teacher walks into class and tells you to sit down. Before you sit down you see Isuka sitting next to the new guy, who seems pretty uninterested in the surroundings around him.

Ace notices you, looking in his direction before you sit down at your desk. He also notices the way your face grimaces when you and your friend realize you have to take the front row desk, but he does understand your reaction as he will never be caught sitting in any other row but the last. Ace is the loner guy in school as he never finds anyone interesting enough to hang around with in school. All the friends he has are either from his basketball club or friends he has from his childhood; with classmates he never gets along with, so after ninth grade he has stopped even trying to befriend anyone from his school. Now on top of it, as an even bigger punishment his mom has made him go to this snobby school, which if it isn’t for his high grades Ace would never have been accepted, especially with his record of bad behavior on school grounds. But they did and now he is stuck here. On top of it the bratty annoying girl sat down with him without even bothering to ask if she could or not. But it doesn’t matter now it is not like he is paying her any attention no matter how hard she tries, all her questions are either met with a hum or a nod from him. She should get the hint.

****

Before you know it the first last day of high school is finished and you and Robin made your way to your car. The weather is still nice and warm outside even with the typical Autum breeze.

“Any plans for tonight?” You ask Robin once you both enter your car. She shakes her head and yawns.

“No, I’m actually extremely tired I just want to go home and sleep until tomorrow morning.” She says while putting on her seatbelt on. You do the same as her before you start the car and drive to her home. “By the way, Isuka wasn’t the only one who noticed you checking out the new guy.” Robin’s playful voice gets you flushing as you try biting on your lips to stop the smile that is slowly growing on your face. “Oh, are you crushing on him?” Her voice rises a bit as she sees how you are trying your best to hide your smile.

“No, no Rob, nothing like this.” You shake your head with your eyes focusing on the road. “He is cute, but crushing is too much, I just saw him today and we haven’t even talked yet.”

“Yes, he is kind of cute.” Robin agrees with you, but you throw her a quick surprised glance.

“Kind of? He is super cute, especially when he put those glasses on.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a thing for nerds.” Your friend is quick to tease you.

“I doubt that he is a nerd, an outsider yes, but a nerd no.” You respond while parking in front of Robin’s house, she lives very close to school, so it usually takes no more than fifteen minutes’ drive or even less if there is no traffic.

“How did you come with the conclusion that he is an outsider?” Robin asks with surprise in her eyes as she barely paid any attention to the guy today.

“He didn’t spoke or try to interact with anyone today, and at the same time he didn’t seem to be the shy nervous type, you know?” You tell your observations of the guy to your friend, and she is more than impressed, this is not a typical behavior from you.

“Girl, when did you manage to observe this much of the guy?” Robin turns on her seat and waits for your response as she can’t believe what she is hearing.

“Oh, come on. I’m just very observative.” You try to brush it off, but Robin is not buying it.

“Sure, whatever you say.” She smirks and opens the door hopping off the car. “You know, now I’m quite interested in where this last year of high school will lead us.” Your friend raises playfully her eyebrows, and you laugh at her.

“Robin, I said he is cute, not that I’m interested in him.”

“Yet. Plus, I didn’t say anything about the guy, but you just did.” She winks at you as she closes the door without giving you the chance to response.

********

“Ma, I’m home.” Ace screams once he enters his home. Taking his shoes and jacket off he walks into the new apartment his mom rented when they moved to the new city. Ace hasn’t gotten used to the place yet, but it was because of him and his behavior as to why they had to move in first place.

“I’m in the kitchen, honey.” His mom calls for him from the kitchen which is also where they are having their dining aera as well. Entering the room Ace spots his mother next to the kitchen counter chopping some vegetables as something is boiling in the pot on the stove. When she sees her son entering the room her smile grows. “How was the first day? Please tell me you made some friends.” She looks at her son with pleading eyes as she knows how close off Ace likes to be and how he barely let anyone get close to him. “Also -” She points with the knife in her hands towards her cheek, indicating to her son to give her a kiss. Ace rolls his eyes but gives his mom a little peck on the cheek. “Now tell me about school.” His mom, Rouge encourages him. She is one of those people who is always with a smile on their face, her whole existence is screaming warmth and calmness. But this smile can easily go away the moment she enters ‘mama bear’ mode or when Ace really… really pisses her of which in the past two years since his father died, he has been doing more frequently than he intended to.

Taking a seat in one of the highchairs on the other side of the kitchen counter Ace just grunts with a shrug of his shoulders. Nothing interesting happened today. All he wants is for these nine months to go by as quickly as possible. Rouge snaps her fingers in front of her son’s face taking him out of his trance.  

“Nothing interesting mom. School, what else to say.” He grabs one of the uncut chili peppers and takes a bite of it.

“Oh, Ace. Come on, it’s a new school. Did you not meet anyone interesting? How are the teachers? Something.” His mom nags him. Sometimes she misses her son’s bright side. Not like Ace was very open with people when his dad was alive, but he was always energetic around his parents. Rouge knows how much his dad’s death affects her son, but she prays every day and night for the day when her boy will be back to his old bubbly self at least around her and his closes friends and family. Nowadays the best she is getting is five to six sentences from him and the rest is grunts and hums.

“Well, there is this old hag literature teacher that is pain in the ass, but other than this nothing, mom.” He grabs another chili pepper as they are his favorite. “What are you making tonight?”

“Chili beans and ground beef. And before you say anything I did buy with only ten percent fat, okay. I don’t want another lecture on proteins and fats.” She points with the knife in her hand at him warningly and jokingly. Ace snots out a laugh and shakes his head, reaching for another chili pepper but his mom slaps his hand away. “Stop, there will be nothing left if you continue eating them like apples. Now, tell me more about school, come on. Okay one bad teacher, you will survive her. How about the classmates?” She asks as she takes the cutting board with the veggies and walks to the stove where the pot is, adding them to it. Ace starts playing with his fingers as he props his elbows on the counter and thinks for a second about his classmates. The guys are mostly rich spoiled brats, and the girls are no different. Well, one catches his interest, but he doesn’t plan to share this part with his mom at all.

“Rich spoiled kids, ma. Is there anything more to be said?” He raises his brow at his mom who rolls her eyes at him.

“Stop acting like you are some poor ghetto guy.” Her late husband has made sure that there is enough for both her and their son to have a good and stable future before he passes away. They aren’t the richest out there, but with what Roger has left, just her job alone covers all their bills and needs, so all the money will go for Ace’s education in university.

“I’m not mom. I’m just stating the facts.” Seeing that his mom is in a good mood Ace decides to test his luck. “By the way… it would be very nice if I can have my car keys back… you know as it would be way easier to go to school.” His mom’s laughter fills up the space once she hears her son’s lame attempt to get his car back. After getting expelled from his old high school, Rouge has taken away his car keys as she knew that this would make her son behave at least until he gets them back.

“I told you, depends how you behave you might have them back in six months.” She leans with her hands on the countertop and smiles at her son. As much as he looks like her, he has his dad’s dark eyes and hair which make him the perfect mixture of them both. “But good try Ace, you still have like what four or three months left… if you behave.” Rouge reaches with her hand and ruffles Ace’s dark messy curls. Ace pulls his head away from his mother’s hand and gets up from the chair.

“When is this going to be done?” He points with his eyes towards the pot on the stove.

“Max an hour, I think.” The only response Rouge receives is a grunt from her son before he makes his way to his room. “Oh, Ace… what am I going to do with you?” It pains her heart to see him like this, but his destructive behavior needs to get under control.

Rogue still remembers the phone call from the police station she received one Tuesday afternoon. Not only had her son got into another fight on the school property but on top of it he had broken some classmate of his arm. But that wasn’t the reason Ace was locked up by the police. He was also high on weed at school, and when someone from his class called the police on him, they found two blunts in his wallet, so he got cuffed immediately. On top of it, the family of the kid wanted to start a case against Ace, but with a lot of pleading from Rouge side, she managed to convinced them not to open the case. Instead, Rouge paid for the kid’s expenses during his recovery. And with a lot of connections and Roger’s best friend, Reyleigh – Rogue succeeded to safe her son’s criminal and school record, but she wasn’t planning on letting him go easy from this situation.

The whole summer Ace was working on two jobs so he could pay back his mom’s expenses on lawyers, the medical bills on the guy’s arm he broke, and he had to go to evening classes every Monday and Thursday so he could graduate eleventh grade. Not only this, but every month since then, Rouge has been making Ace take a drug test. If she finds out one more time that he is taking anything drug related he will be out of the house even if it would hurt her more than him. She doesn’t want to see her son destroying his future.

Entering his room and closing the door behind him Ace starts to take off the annoying school uniform. Changing to more comfortable clothes he lays on his bed and just stares at the ceiling. He misses his old town and friends. Even there he hasn’t been the most social person, especially in school, but still he had his friends, while here he has none. He has his mom, but it is not the same. And this new pretentious school is killing him, and it only has been a day since he has started. But he will have to push it through, after all he doesn’t want to see his mom’s disappointed face ever again. He might be everything else, but Ace isn’t stupid, he knows that his behavior is not only hurting him but his mother too. Because of this he must fix his ways of living not only for his sake, but also for the sake of the people who care for him.

Without realizing it, his mind drifts to you – the girl with the white knee length stockings. He can’t deny that he finds you attractive, but he isn’t planning on messing around with any girls any time soon and especially one from his class. You are some kind of a rebel because all day he hasn’t seen another girl with knee stockings like yours, all the other girls are wearing normal ones that cover every inch of their legs. It is either this or you are desperate for male attention, but something is telling him that you aren’t the type to care who gives you attention and who doesn’t. But his first impression of you is clear – ‘troublemaker’ and he doesn’t need troubles right now.

After some time scrolling on his phone Ace hears his mom calling from the kitchen. He gets up and goes to see what the fuzz is about.

“What, ma?” He asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Please, put the plates on the table. The meal is done, it just needs to chill down a bit and I need to make a phone call.” She washes her hands and dries them on the towel hung on the kitchen cabinet under the sink. Ace just nods and starts preparing the table for him and his mom.

********

It has been almost two months since school has started again and it is killing you. All you want is to be done with this particular school, but just seven more months left. The subjects feel harder this year than the last and you usually don’t have any problem studying but this year is taking a tool on you, and you have barely started. Walking into biology class early in the morning knowing that Robin is sick at home today isn’t very pleasant. She always lets you know earlier when she is not coming to school due to sickness or whatever reason as she knows how much you hate being in classes without her. But today you decide to go anyway, as you have biology, literature and PE, which means you are having three classes with Ace, which means that today might not be so bad even without Robin next to you.

Your little attraction from day one turned into full crush almost a month ago. Which is funny because you and Ace have never spoken, but you can’t help but feel attracted to him. To be honest, Ace doesn’t speak with anyone, his voice can only be heard if the teachers ask him something or if they have something to tell him about the way his uniform is not worn right. The only thing that you are aware of so far that you have in common with him.

Walking into the room most of your classmates are already there. Scanning the room your eyes land on Ace. As always, he has his headphones on while having his hands on the desk, with one elbow raise and his head prop on the palm of his hand. Taking a deep breath in you start walking towards the desk in the middle of the middle row and sit there. With Robin being gone for the day, you are going to be sitting alone so you put your bag on the chair next to you. Taking your notebook and pen out you start fidgeting with the pen between your fingers waiting for your teacher to come.

Slightly turning your head to the side, you glance at Ace. His messy hair falling freely around his face as always and his glasses already placed on his face, he looks adorable. Yes, your crush so far is based only on his lucks, but the rare times you have heard him talk, he is smart and yes, he is also cocky, but not like the rest of the boys in your class. There is some kind of a charm in his cockiness. Just before he turns his head in your direction you look away quickly.

His lips twitch for a second as he has caught you staring at him again. Ace is used at this point with your staring. It even starts making him wonder if you have a crush on him or something. You are not very easy to read so Ace isn’t sure a hundred percent if he is right about it or not. Slowly he runs his eyes down on your body and licks his lower lip. You are quite bold today, not only are you with knee-length stockings again, but on top of it they are dark red mesh material, so he is able to take a very good look at your legs. Are you aware of what these things are doing to still teenage boys… to him?

Just when his imagination is about to start working on the things he wants to do in between your thighs while you wear these red stockings, he hears the most annoying voice to exist, even over his headphones being on max volume.

“Morning Ace, it’s always so nice to spend biology with you.” Isuka’s voice rings in his ear as annoying as his first alarm in the morning. Ace doesn’t even bother to look at her. Since the first day at school, she has been sitting with him every biology class. He has tried many things: putting his bag on the chair where she is supposed to sit hoping she gets the hint that she isn’t welcome sitting with him, then sitting at another desk just so leaves him alone but still no success. One time he made sure to be the first one in class just so he could hide the fucking chair but sadly someone got sick that day, so she sat with him again. Thankfully it is only biology he has to sit with her. The teacher finally walks in, and the class is starting so Ace takes off his headphones and puts them back in his backpack.

“Students.” Mr. Bellman clapped with his hands as a warm smile is placed on his face as aways. He is one of the few, to not say only teacher in this school that is actually nice and understanding towards his students. “Before the Christmas break next month you all will be divided into pairs and do a project together.”

“Are we paired with whoever we want or you are going to pair us?” Ask a classmate of yours.

“Thank you for the question, Mr. Dawson. In fact, I have written all your names on a piece of paper and put them in a bowl.” He pulls out two glass bowls filled with small pieces of paper. “Those of you sitting on the left will be the one picking a note with the names of your partner and on those of you sitting on the right will be picking from the bowl with the topic of your projects.” After he explains you groan and quickly move to sit on the left side. You don’t care what topic you will get if you will be lucky enough to get Robin’s name out of the bowl. “Everyone understands? Okay, perfect. I will come to you now first with the names.”

Your turn finally comes, and Robin’s name hasn’t been picked yet so hopefully you will get her. With a warm smile Mr. Bellman encourages you to pick a piece of paper, and you do. You start laughing as you unwrap it and see your own name written on it.

“Well, Mr. Bellman I guess I’m either doing it by myself or I can choose with whom to work with.” You joke with him to which he laughs but shakes his head.

“I know you are hoping to pick Miss Nico as your partner Miss (Y/L/N), but with risk for you to hate me, please take another note.” You click with your tongue when your teacher tells you this. Mr. Bellman has gotten to know you very well over the span of the four years he has been your teacher, and he knows that you and Robin always go as a pair. Putting your hand once again in the bowl you drag another piece of paper. Unwrapping the small piece of paper your heart skips a beat once you read the name. “Mr. Portgas D Ace, how nice.” The teacher announces loudly as he looks at Ace’s direction.

Hearing his name being called Ace raises his head from his notebook. He looks at where Mr. Bellman is standing, and he is right next to you. ‘Nice’ Ace thinks to himself. You aren’t a bad option for a project partner especially when it comes to biology, you are pretty good from what Ace has seen of you so far in class. He only nods with his head as the teacher wrote you down as partners.

You on the other hand don’t know how to process the fact that you will be working with Ace for the next one month. You know he is smart and surprisingly he is one of the top students in class, but even if he isn’t the smartest it wouldn’t have mattered as this isn’t why you are concerned. It is the fact that you have a stupid little crush on him and spending time with him outside school might cause your stupid little crush to grow. Your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Bellman’s voice.

“Okay, everyone has a partner, right? Now is time to pick your topics, now remember those on the right are picking them.”

Going around the room again Mr. Bellman skips you this time as it is Ace turn to pick your topic as he is sitting on the right side of the desk. Reaching with his hand Ace picks a piece of paper and unwraps it. Clearing his throat before he speaks, he looks at you.

“Causes of Narcolepsy and Insomnia.” He says with his deep raspy voice. In response you nod as you have turned to face him when he was picking it. Turning back around you write it down on your notebook, so you don’t forget. Before you have turned around you see the nasty look Isuka is giving you, but you pay her no attention. You are aware of her own crush for Ace, but it is obvious that it isn’t mutual.

After everyone get their topics, Mr. Bellman starts to explain how the project can be made and as long as it is submitted by the second week of December it should be fine for everyone. The class finishes on time and everyone starts to gather their stuffs. It takes you a moment to start putting your stuffs back as now you must speak to Ace no matter what. But by the time you turn around to see if he is still in the classroom he is nowhere to be found. With a sigh you get up and start making your way to your locker to grab your physics textbook and then make your way to the classroom. You won’t be seeing Ace until after lunch when you have your literature class and then PE, which means you have enough time to think of how to approach him. Or he might approach you, after all it is not only your project.

****

Lunch break comes and you made your way fast to your locker again. Deciding to skip on lunch today you grab your literature books and head straight to the classroom. You are the first one there as everyone is out for lunch now. Taking your usual seat in the middle row you pull out your phone and start texting Robin.

‘Rob.... I have a good and bad news...’

‘If it is about the biology project I already know as Nora has already texted me about it... so I suppose this is the bad news... now tell me the good’ She is quick with her reply. Not only this but you just realise that you have totally forgotten to pay attention to who got Robin’s name. Poor Robin, she must work with one of Isuka’s annoying friends for the project.

‘Girl I’m so sorry... yeah about the good news... guess who is my project partner :3’

‘No way :O ... is it Portgas?’ Of course, Robin gets it right from the first guess. You happily squeak and tap with your feet excitedly on the floor.

‘YES ROB IT IS HIM IN FACT CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?’

‘If I knew that the only day of me missing school would lead to this I would have gotten sick earlier xD have you two spoken about it?’

‘Not yet, but I have the next two classes with him as you know... so I plan to speak with him about it.’ You have already come with a plan, and it is super simple – he walks into the room, sits on his desk and you go speak with him, how hard it would be?

Well, it appears to be harder than you have expectedas he is late for class, but he comes eventually. After being scold from Mrs. Kenets he goes and sit on his usual spot – the last desk next to the window. After the class is done you miss your chance again as he is the first one to leave. But it is okay, you still have PE together you can speak with him then.

You aren’t very surprised when you can’t catch him to speak with during PE, too. It is the only class where he kind of interacts with people and it is the guys who he interacts with only when they play basketball. He plays very well, you have observed him many times, but you are not surprised after all he is tall, and he obviously works out, so this only adds to his looks. You even have a theory that he might be practicing basketball outside school, but you are not a hundred percent sure about this. You on the other hand try to join the girls and some of the guys who are playing volleyball, but it gets boring quickly.

Now you are just sitting on the benches, with your elbows on your knees and your head prop the palms of your hands, observing Ace and waiting for the perfect moment to speak with him about your project.

“Staring to much aren’t we?” Taking a deep breath in, you side-glanced the person who just sits next to you.

“What do you want Isuka?” You turn your head to the side to look at her with blank stare.

“I want to change partners for the project.” She crosses her arms across her chest and her tone from mocking turns to demanding. A makeshift puff of laugher escapes your lips as you look at her in disbelief.

“You heard Mr. Bellman we can’t do this, and I won’t do this for you especially.” It is not because Ace is your project partner, it actually doesn’t matter who it would have been, you will never do a favour for Isuka. Ever.

“You can have your friend Robin, and I get Ace what a better deal than this?” She continues to nag.

 “You are not even the one paired with her, the fuck is you on about? And I told you I’m not changing partners for your pleasure especially.” You turn your head back to where the boys are playing basketball.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” Isuka hisses and pulls you by the hand causing you to look at her.

“Touch me one more time and I will sweep the floor with your hair.” You snap at her as you stand up. Verbally she can say whatever you never really care, but this right now is crossing any lines.

“Calm down loser you don’t want to get in trouble.” She also gets up and now you are on the same level facing each other. “Ace also wants to change so we can be together.”

“Do you even believe yourself when you said this out loud?” You snort and turn around to walk away. You can hear Isuka walking after you, but you chose to ignore her.

Passing by the guys playing basketball you don’t see Isuka going to one of them – Jack, the popular rich and extremely arrogant jerk in school. She whispers something in his ear and his arrogant laugher fills up the space. The guys have stopped the game as he is the one holding the ball and waiting for him to get back to it. Ace is standing with arms crossed across his chest while carefully observing the scene just a few steps away from them.

He saw you passing by a little annoyed by Isuka, who was following after you. Her bullying, if he can call it this, towards you haven’t been unnoticed by him, but it is always her put back on her place by you. Maybe this is the case again. But it isn’t. Just as Jack is raising his hand ready to aim at you, with his arrogant smile on while his face is turned to Isuka’s, it takes Ace three stapes to get to Jack and take the ball away from his hands.

“The fuck man?” Jack turns to him with disbelief in his eyes. “I was just about to have some fun.” He came closer to Ace bumping his chest with his, to which Ace snorts as he puts the ball between them keeping Jack’s body away from his. They are almost the same high, but Ace is still slightly taller than him.

“Since when hitting girls is considered fun Jack?” Ace raises one brow at him waiting for his response.

“Didn’t know you can talk this much Portgas?” Jack mockingly says to which Ace only replies with an arrogant smirk. After all Jack isn’t the only one who thinks he can act all cocky and mighty.

“I usually don’t waste my time speaking with people like you.” This struck a nerve in Jack as he hears Ace says this and goes to pinch him, but Ace is quick to dodge it. The teacher is quick to see what is going on and runs to the boys screaming at them. Taking a step back Ace laughs at Jack’s face. “Try faster next time, Jack.” With that he ignores the teacher who is trying to scold the boys but none of them is listening to them. Before heading to the changing rooms Ace gives Isuka a disgraceful look. It is clear to Ace that she has talked Jack into doing this, which is very low even for her.

You on the other hand have missed the entire show. Now as you have changed back to your school uniform and adjusting the straps holding your red stockings you curse yourself as you accidently made a hole on the side of the left stocking. Remembering that you have a clear nail polish in your locker you grab your bag and leave the changing rooms.

Standing in front of your locker and opening it you also put back some of the notebooks and textbooks you are carrying with yourself during the day. Most of the students are already leaving as the last bell of the day has rung like five minutes ago. As you are about to close your locker you haven’t paid attention to your surrounding, someone has leaned on by the lockers next to you, so when you hear their voice, you get startled.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. (Y/N), right?” Turning around you are met with no other but Ace. With your eyes widen you swallow hard as you nod. “So, we are project partners now.” He says and you nod again.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, I was trying to get a hold of you the whole day.” You chuckle and try to straiten your posture. You open and close your mouth as you aren’t sure exactly what to say and Ace isn’t very helpful as he doesn’t say much himself. “Like... you know... I was wondering things like when should we start, where should we meet... you know ha-ha... project things.” You grab on your left elbow with your right hand as you try very hard to hide the fact how nervous you are around him.

Putting his hands in his pockets Ace can see how nervous you got out of nowhere. He swears this isn’t the same confident girl he has observed around school. But then again, he has seen you only with your black-haired friend which he always forgets the name of. Maybe you are only confident and bubbly only around people you know and that is why you only hang up with her.

“Which day after school works with you? The sooner we start the better.” Ace says and you nod agreeing with him.

“Any day works with me honestly.” You give him a small smile and wait for his response as he seems to think about when it will be best for him.

“How about Friday?”

“Sure, Friday works fine with me as well. Should we go to the library?”

“Yea, the library is fine. Then see you on Friday.” With this he pushes himself of the lockers and walks away. He isn’t arrogant, but he isn’t very friendly as well, so you are starting to worry how smoothly this project will go. But now that you have seen him up so close, you are totally sweep off your feet. This boy is unbelievably handsome.

‘Please, don’t have a girlfriend.’ You think to yourself, a thought that has crossed your mind million of times now. You have tried everything, but you can’t find him on any social media and as he doesn’t speak to anyone in school you have no idea if Ace is single or not. All you can do is prey that he is single, because boy your heart will be broken if he is taken and extremely jealous of his girlfriend.

*****

Friday comes fast and before you know it you are done with your classes for the day. You will be lying if you say that you are not nervous and excited at the same time now that you are about to spend the next few hours working with Ace on the project. On the other hand, Robin hasn’t stopped messing with you today as you have put extra effort in the way you look today. With your makeup and hair done nicely and your uniform being precisely ironed like never before, paired with dark blue knee stockings matching your uniform you looked gorgeous today. Even Robin herself commented how you will make him crush on you a hundred percent after your study session.

“Okay, how do I look? How do I smell?” You have dragged your best friend in the bathroom with you as you want to make sure that you are a hundred percent looking your best.

“Oh my God, (Y/N). Calm down, he is just a guy.” Robin is still in disbelief in the way you are acting when it comes to Ace. Sure, he is cute, even if he isn’t her type she doesn’t deny that the guy is good looking, but you have never been like this over a guy before.

“I know, I know.” You say in a desperate tone. Yes, you are super attracted to him and his looks but expect from this you don’t know anything about him, and you are hoping that with this project you will be able to get to know him. “I... I just want to... how to say it Rob... if he finds me somehow attractive then, of course only if he is single, maybe he might be up for a date or something.” Lowering your head and looking at your sneakers you feel Robin wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a hug.

“(Y/N), if this guy is not on his knees for you after today, then he needs to change his glasses.” You both laugh as you pull away from the hug. “Okay now show me which lip glosses you have taken with you?” You eagerly pull out the two lip glosses you have taken with you in the morning as you can’t decide which one will look better. Taking a good look at them, Robin points with her finger to the cherry coloured one. “I think this will make your lips pop more.”

“Thank you. I was also thinking of the cherry one.” You put the other one back in your bag and start applying the cherry one on your lips. Smacking your lips once you are done you turn to Robin. “What do you think?”

“I think that I’m jealous of Portgas.” Hearing her comment you burst of laughing.

 “Uh, I love you, Robin. You are the best friend I could have ever ask for.” You pull her for another hug, but she taps you on the shoulders to let go.

“Come on, he is probably waiting for you. And don’t forget to call me once you are done.”

****

Ace has been sitting on one of the old desks in the library for the past fifteen minutes now. He should have asked for your number. What if you can’t make it today? He has seen you around school earlier today, but still. Or what if you are here but can’t find him? He is definitely getting your number today. Not for any other reason, just so he can have some kind of contact with you while you do the project together.

“Hey, sorry for being late.” His eyes immediately shot at you as you stand on the side of the desk next to him. You smile at him as you pull the chair to sit. “Don’t tell me you have been waiting for me for a long time?” Your eyes are filled with guild and Ace is just staring.

‘Shit, she looks even prettier today.’ He can’t help but think to himself. Ace can’t deny that he has found you attractive since day one, but he hasn’t been in a relationship ever. Which is strange that the thoughts of relationship are crossing his mind since he doesn’t want one. He does have his fair share with girls from time to time but nothing more. Not only this but whatever you have put on your lips today are making them even more plump and desirable. If he can just pull you closer and kiss you right now he would. Calling him out by his name you take him out of his trance.

“Sorry? What were you saying?” He clears his throat as his voice comes out a little bit raspier then usual.

“I asked if you waited for me for too long?” You let a small giggle at his confused expression. To your surprise Ace let out a little chuckle himself. This is the first time ever you hear any form of laugher from him and you swear something bloomed in your stomach.

“Nah, I didn’t. Actually, you need to give me your number, so we have some kind of communication through out the project.” Your eagerly nod as you see him pulling his phone and handing it to you so you can put your number in. You quickly type it with your name as well and give back the phone to him. “Nice, thanks.” He says and puts the phone back in his back pocket.

“How do we start now? I see you have taken some books already.” You reach and take one of the books and observe it. It is about neurobiology, which your topic for ‘Causes of Narcolepsy and Insomnia’ is based on.

“Yea, well we can do bigger research on insomnia as I have a narcolepsy myself so you can leave all that part to me.” He runs his hand on the nape of his neck a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, no please. I want the work to be equal for both of us.” You are quick to protest and surprise to hear that he has narcolepsy himself, he hasn’t showed any signs in school, but again from sharing just three classes together you don’t know much about him. “Also, I didn’t know you have narcolepsy. I know it is not easy living with one as my little cousin also has it.” You smile at him as you understand a bit how he must feel dealing with this on the daily basis.

Raising his brows in surprise as he hasn’t met anyone so far in his life who has it or have a person close to them struggling with it, Ace is a little taken aback and not sure how to response to this.

“Ya, it does sucks sometimes.” Is all he manages to response with. “In that case should we get to work?” With a nod from you, you both start to discuss how you can manage your project and the topics for it.

Time goes by fast and before you know it, it has already been two hours. During those two hours it is mostly you who breaks the silence with suggesting ideas or double checking with him if you should include a certain information in. Deciding to take a quick break from gathering information and writing it down, you decide to be bold and ask him more personal questions in the meantime, if you can call them this, so you can get to know him a little.

“So, um Ace...” You start unsure if he wants to talk or not, but when he hums and looks at you in response so you take this as a yes – he might be up for a small talk after all. “What made you choose this school?”

Unsure how to response to this question without mentioning that he has been expelled from his previous high school he gives you the most logical answer ever.

“My mom, you?” Short and clear as ever, but at least he asks you as well.

“My parents.” You roll your eyes, if it isn’t for them you would want to attend another not so strict and pretensions school.

“Why the eyeroll?” He takes his glasses of and puts them on the side. The switch in his charm with and without them is indescribable – with them on he gives this persona of a little introvert and unbothered guy, who is also extremely adorable; without them he gives and has the vide of the cocky cool guy with a bad boy vibe who with just one look will get you on your knees. Shaking you head of you try to focus yourself back into the small conversation.

“I don’t know if you have noticed but this school is quite pretentious.” You whisper like there are many people around you, moving your eyes side to side pointing out your surroundings. A puff of makeshift laugher escapes Ace’s lips as he nods his head.

“Yea, same. Can’t stand this place and its rules.” He leans on the back of the chair and loosen up the tie around his neck.

“Tell me about it, I already had three detentions.” You huff. Rasing one of his brows questionably to why and how you have gotten detention, three times on top of it. Even he hasn’t gotten one, yet. “Because of the stockings.” You scrunch your face with a smile and Ace chuckles at you.

“Why don’t you just wear the same ones as the other girls?” No matter how cool Ace wants to play it, this question has been on his mind for a long time. It is only you in the whole school who allows herself to wear something that is considered inappropriate.

“I really hate stockings, I don’t even like these ones, but God I would rather get detention than getting to the principal’s office ever again.” Your whole body shivers from the memories of it.

“What they send you to the principal just because of some socks?” Ace snort, he can’t believe how ridicules this school’s rules are.

“No, I was sent to him because I came to school without any – just me and my bare legs, and in my defence, it was the end of May and outside was almost thirty degrees.”  

“Oh, fuck this school.” Ace laughs in disbelief as he runs both of his hands through his hair messing it even more.

“There is more to the story.” You say and he looks at you like you are kidding. “Don’t look at me like this, I’m not joking. They called my parents and bear with me now – they had to listen to the principle going on and on about how unappropriated their daughter behaviour is because of this, and how she is promoting sexual behaviour in the school’s property dressed like that.”

“What a troublemaker you are (Y/N).” Ace clicks with his tongue as he laughs once he hears your story.

“The biggest one, don’t forget.” You point with your finger at him correcting his mistake as he raises his hands in the air like you have pointed a gun at him.

“How did your parents react?”

“They are super cool. I wasn’t grounded or anything like it, but they begged me only to never come to school again with bare legs.” Both of you share a light laughter before silence takes over you. “Should we continue?” You are the one to break it once again.

“Nah, I think we did enough for today. What are your plans next Wednesday after school, we can meet again?” Your eyes widen from excitement as you eagerly, too eagerly for your liking nod your head. “Cool, then until next Wednesday.” He says as he gets up and takes his stuff. “Troublemaker.” He chuckles at you over his shoulders and leaves.

****

Wednesday turns to next Friday, and next Friday turns to see you again on Monday and for the next three weeks you and Ace are meeting at least two times per week to work on your project even thought you do twenty percent working and the rest is you two talking and getting to know each other. To your surprise Ace is quite talkative when he wants to be. The more time you two spend together the more you get to know him, and the more is your crush on him growing.

One time you gain the courage and very subtilty you asked if he has a girlfriend to which he answered no, and you felt like all the powers, gods and goddesses, whatever is out there was with you that day. Not only that he is handsome with amazing personality, but he is also single. The two things you must be careful about now are: one trying to not get in the friendzone and two if he likes you – you don’t want it to be just sex, you want it to be more than this.

During school, every time you bump at each other in the hallways you are always greeting him, and he always nods at you or mumbles hello back. Of course, this got you a few unpleasant stares from a few girls around school. One time at literature class when he was the one to stop by your desk and talk with you, you noticed Isuka choking on her water and if it was possible in real life, she was going to have steam of smoke coming out of her ears out of jealousy.

The only sad part of it all is that you two are pretty much done with your project, only a few more details are left but it won’t take you more than two hours to finish it. As you are laying on your bed with your notebooks spread across on it, your phone vibrates. You grab it and your eyes sparkle with excitement once you see who the message is from.

‘Tomorrow same place at the same time?’

‘Of course ^.^’

Not wasting even a second later you dial Robins number. The moment she does you are quick to speak.

“Should I tell him that I like him?” You blurt out.

“If you feel like it – yes.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me back? That way things will be awkward till the rest of the year, and I don’t want it to be this way.” You bite on the cuticle of your nails as you stand up from your bed and start to walk back and forth in your room.

“I think he does.” Robin says with a reassuring voice over the phone.

“I think you are feeding my delusions.”

“Girl, calm down. From what you’ve told me and I’ve seen from you interacting I think he might be into you as well, plus you’ve said he that he is a pretty chill guy, so even if he doesn’t, I’m sure that it won’t be very awkward after it.” She starts to laugh as she can only imagine you going around in a circle around your room, and she isn’t wrong.

“You are right, after all the worst he can say is what? That he is not into me and… and…” Your mind goes spiraling with thoughts of what could be the worst thing Ace might say to cut you off.

“And the world will keep spinning now calm down and worry tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, you are right. See you tomorrow, Rob.”

“See you tomorrow… troublemaker.” She laughs and cuts the line immediately knowing how to tease you. You have mentioned to her how from time-to-time Ace calls you ‘troublemaker’.  Falling on your back on your bed you just stare at the ceiling – what is the worst that can happen tomorrow?

****

Walking home after his basketball practice, Ace can’t help but think of you. In the past three weeks you two have been talking a lot. He enjoys it more than he wants to admit to himself. On top of it, your beauty is like a bonus to your personality – not only you are smart and funny, but you are also mischievous and spontaneous. And he likes this about you a lot. You are the type of person who is down for anything, especially judging by the stories you have told him about yourself. You are also quite charming and cute when you have this sparkle of mischief in your eyes. Yes, you are a troublemaker, but not the type who looks for troubles on purpose, it is more like a rebellious troublemaker. You will stand behind your words and believes no matter what and not only does he finds this extremely attractive but he also respects it.

Unlocking the front door of his home and walking in he is greeted by the voice of his mom. Entering the living room, he sees her sitting on the couch drinking tea, as her long ginger hair is falling freely on her back and shoulders.

“How was practice, honey?” She asks with a big smile on her face as she takes a sip of her tea and then place it on the coffee table.

“Ma, stop calling me pet names like this.” He grunts as he takes a seat on the couch next to her with one arm prop at the back of the sofa. “And it went good and very, very tiring. We ran a lot today.” Ace tells her as he is stretching his legs with a hiss from the soreness.

“I can definitely smell this.” She replies sarcastically as she punches her nose and waves her hand at her face messing around with her son.

“Oh, shut up mom. I showered there and I will go shower again in a minute.” Ace laughs and moves closer to her as he raises his hands in the air making his mom fake a gag from her son’s sweat.

“You are the same pain in the ass as your dad.” She raises her voice acting like she is irritated but in fact she is not, she is having quite the fun with her son right now. Poking him on the sides where she knows that he is ticklish, she laughs when he groans and gets up from the couch.

“Well, I don’t come from the neighbor. You choose my dad not me.” He jokes with her as he reaches and takes her tea mug and chugs it down.

“Did you just drink all my tea?” Rouge’s eyes widen as she sees the smug smirk placed on her son’s face.

“Your stinky son is thirsty, sorry ma.” Ace lets out a boyish laugh as she reaches to playfully smack his forearm but misses. Grabbing his gym back from the floor he makes his way to the bathroom but before this he stops at the door and looks at his mom. “Mom, do I really stink?”

“No, Ace you don’t. I’m just messing with you.” She looks at her son lovingly as he nods his head. Sometimes he is such a dork, especially recently. But Rouge doesn’t mind it. In the past almost two weeks and so her son is somehow more talkative, more open. Something he hasn’t been in a long time, and something is telling Rouge that there is a girl involved in this, and she can’t wait to tease her son about it, but not now. For now, she is just enjoying having a little bit of her son’s old self back. But once she has the opportunity, she will definitely tease him about it, especially after he has mentioned briefly that he is doing a project for biology class with a girl and Ace never talks about girls of any kind with his mom.

After taking a shower and going to his room Ace grabs his phone as he sits on his bed and texts you. Tomorrow you are finishing your project and as much as he wants to be done with it, he is not that excited to be done with your little meetings after school. But you might continue to spend time with each other from time to time, after all you have a few shared classes together.

His thoughts are interrupted by his phone vibrating with a message from you as a little smile twitch on his lips. Laying on his bare back on the bed he looks up at the ceiling with thoughts filled with you. Maybe he does have a little crush on you, but this is not what he needs right now. After all you are a troublemaker, and it seems like troubles love to follow him.

****

Walking into school Ace feels a little weird today as a lot of people are staring weirdly at him. Usually, he doesn’t pay attention to people staring at him, but it is something in their eyes that it is like a judgment. He makes his way into the school sport hall as his first class for the day is PE. Leaving his gym bag in one of the lockers in the changing room as he came to school with his gym clothes, Ace made his way to the sport field. Entering the closed space field, he notices everyone staring and whispering in his direction. ‘What the fuck?’ he thinks to himself.

“Portgas.” He hears his name being called by no one but Jack himself. “Do you carry a blunt or two with yourself or we should call the police in case you lie.” Jack screams across the field and everyone laughs.

You and Robin have just entered the sport hall from the back entrance and are still dressed in your uniforms as you have some time before the class starts to change to your gym clothes. What confuses you both is seeing everyone laughing.

“Hey, Vanessa.” You call one of the girls with whom you speak from time to time in class. “Why is everyone laughing.”

“Oh my God, girls you must see this.” She says and pulls her phone up playing a video. The video is of a guy who is being held by the police as he is curing loudly and fighting them as they try to cuff him. “Jack sent this to the entire class, and well half of the school as well.”

“(Y/N) is this Ace?” Robin looks at you with frown brows. You are about to call her out but then you see the face of the guy, it is Ace. What is going on? Looking up from the phone screen you see Ace and the rest of the class laughing at him. Without giving it a second thought you run to him. You hear Robin calling after you, but you pay her no mind.

“Ace.” You call out once you are close enough to him. He just side glance you and doesn’t say anything. “I… um… there is this video going around… you getting cuffed by the police… are… are you okay Ace?”

“Do you know who spread it?” He asks you in a calm voice. Too calm for your liking.

“Vanessa told me that Jack sent it to half the school.” You quietly reply.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He says without looking at you and starts to make his way towards Jack with his fists clenched. Realizing what he is planning to do you are quick to stand in front of him and stop him by placing your hands on his chest.

“Ace don’t.” You give him a pleading look.

“Yes, Ace don’t. Listen to your little girlfriend.” Jack calls out loudly again but this time with mocking voice of a little girl. Laughter fills again the whole sport hall. Clenching his jaw tight Ace pushes off your hands and starts to make his way towards Jack again but you are not going to let this happen.

“Ace, please listen to me for just a second.” You stand in front of him again.

“Fuck off, (Y/N). This is between me and this motherfucker.” He snaps at you as he moves to the side but so do you as you aren’t letting him take another step.

“I know, but this is what he wants and Ace this won’t end with detention.” You know better than him how this school’s rules work. Especially when it comes to students like Jack with rich parents. Ace is going to be out the second he lays his hands on him. “As much as I want to see Jack’s face being punched, I don’t want you to get kicked out for a such thing.” After saying this Ace finally looks at you. his eyes and his whole face full of rage.

“Damn you (Y/N) and this whole school.” He spats at you before turning back and storming off the sport hall.

“Won’t you run after you boyfriend (Y/N)?” Jack says again with a mocking voice. Turning in his direction you just smile at him and start walking towards him. “You know if your attitude wasn’t so unpleasant you would make a very good girlfriend with a face like yours.” He smirks as you stand in front of him. Smiling at him and before he has the time to react, you spit in his face and walk away to find Ace. “You little bitch. Wait until I catch you.” Jack screams full of rage after you as his buddies gather around him trying to hold him still as he wants to run after you.

“(Y/N) you animal.” Isuka screams after you but you just raise your hand and show her the middle finger. Before you leave the sport hall Robin catches up with you.

“Girl, this will cause you some trouble you know?” She walks along you as you are looking everywhere trying to find Ace.

“I will worry about this later. I need to find Ace.”

“Oh my, you are a lost case. Do you really like him this much? Is he really worth the trouble?” She stops you by holding you by the shoulder and you look at her seriously.

“Yes, Robin. I do like him this much, and he is worth the trouble. Now please let me go so I can look for him.” Inhaling and exhaling deep she lets go of your arm.

“I can help you at least.” She pleads but you shake your head.

“Thank you, but I think it’s better it I do it alone.” Before you run away you look at her. “By the way will you cover for me for the rest of the day?”

“You don’t even need to ask me this.” Shaking her head with a smile she sends you off to look for Ace.

You look everywhere – the school hallways in both wings in all three floors, the cafeteria, the main floor by the entrance and now you are making your way to the library. For the almost four weeks you have spent together and the three months since school started you are a hundred percent sure that whatever the reason behind why he has been arrested isn’t something that will change your opinion about him. You know a little bit more about Ace now and one thing he is not is being a bad person. From what you have seen in the video it had happened in a school property and the best they can arrest you for is if you have been with drugs to school. Ace doesn’t seem like the guy who does hard drugs so you are a hundred percent sure that it might have been for weed. But even if it is for something more serious you don’t care much because you trust your intuition, which tells you that he has a valid reason and explanation to the story behind the video.

As you run towards the library you spot him walking out of the school. The moment you take a step to turn in his direction you feel a drop of rain on your face. ‘Grate now all we need is rain.’ You think to yourself as you fasten your pace to catch up with him.

“Ace, please wait.” You call after him to which he looks over his shoulder with still anger written all over his face.

“Go back to school (Y/N).” His voice is still harsh but not as much as when he has told you to fuck off in the sport hall.

“I can’t go back to school. Please, it’s about to be pouring rain. I-I can drive you home or whenever you are goi-” Ace turns to you with an angry expression – his brows drew together with his jaw clenched. He opens his mouth to say something and in this exact moment rain stars to fall from the sky like crazy. Both of you get soaked in a matter of seconds – him with his long sleeve compress black t-shirt and basketball shorts and you in your now soaked school uniform.

“Go back to school (Y/N) and just continue with your day.” He rolls his eyes and turns around as he starts to walk away from you.

“Ace, I can’t go back to school and continue with my day because... I... well I did something...” This makes Ace stop his track and looks at you. As if he couldn’t look even more hotter than before now with all his clothes soaked from the rain and his black hair wet from it you could faint from the sight of him on the spot.

“What did you do (Y/N)?” His voice got even deeper. Ace is standing and watching you looking at your feet and arms behind your back just like a little kid who has done a mischief and now is guilty about it. Not only this but your white shirt is now stuck to your body from the rain Ace can clearly see the bright red bra under it, which is matching with the stockings you are wearing today, making it very hard for him to focus on just your face alone. Lifting your head and giving him big doe eyes look, with your mascara smudged a bit from the rain, anger isn’t the only thing he is feeling right now.

“I-I spat Jack in the face.” You look away now ashamed of what you have done even if he deserved it.  

“You what?” Ace takes a step towards you. He can’t believe you have done this and the trouble you will get into for it. “Why did you do this?” His mind is running wild. Why would you do such thing? You won’t be getting away with just a detention after school.

“Because he tried to make fun of you.” Wrapping your arms around yourself you tired to shield from the cold rain and his pierced gaze.

“I can stand form myself (Y/N), I don’t need some girl to do it for me. Thank you, now everyone thinks I’m a coward and a pussy on top of it.” Running his hands over his wet locks Ace shuts his eyes and tries to take some deep breaths.

“A-Ace I-I didn’t mean to cause you harm. I-I just... I-I wasn’t thinking... I-”

“Just shut up.” Opening his eyes and seeing how your own eyes are filled with guilt and shame he curses himself. “I’m mad right now, okay? I don’t want to be an ass toward you, but damn it, why you are such a troublemaker all the damn time.” This isn’t a question, this is a statement. Why are you going headfirst aways? Why did you even go to such extreme just because some asshole tied to get on his nerves. Seeing how you are shivering from the cold Ace exhales deeply and grabs you by the arm firmly but also gentle at the same time. “Where is your car?” He asks you as you start walking towards the parking lot.

“There is the little red one.” You point with your finger towards the small Toyota Aygo parked in the middle of the parking.

“What is with your obsession with the red colour?” Ace huffs as you reach your car and waits for you to unlock it.

“I didn’t choose the car nor the colour of it. And red is not my favourite colour.” You say with a little pout as you unlock the car and both of you get in. Ace has to adjust the seat as he is a bit too tall for your car.

“Yea, bet.” He scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

“Where should I drive to?”

“My place.” Ace replies dryly. Brushing your wet hair from your face you nod and start the car.

****

The car ride is silent. The only time you and Ace exchange any type of words is when you ask him for direction. These twenty minutes to his place felt like an eternity to you. ‘Good job (Y/N), now you messed up any chance to have something with him.’ You are thinking to yourself. There is no chance that things will recover easily now that you have put both you and Ace in this situation. Parking the car in front of the building where he lives you don’t dare to look at him.

Unbuttoning his seatbelt Ace looks at you with one brow raised. Why are you not turning off the car?

“Aren’t you coming?” Hearing the question from him you finally dare to look at him.

“Uh... I... do you want me to come? I-I don’t want to bother your mom or something.” This and you also haven’t expected to receive such an invitation from him.

“Yea, come if you want. My mother is not home anyway.” He is still a bit pissed at you, but he also sees you trembling as you both are still soaking wet from the rain. Last thing Ace wants is for you to get sick because of him.

Hesitating for a moment you slowly nod your head and turn off the car. Unbuttoning your seatbelt, you and Ace both go out of it. The rain is still pouring but none of you hurries up to get inside. You are quietly following him as you enter the building and get in the elevator. Ace press the third floor on it and in the meantime, you look at yourself in the mirror. You notice that you look like a mess – with your hair and cloths all wet and your makeup ruined you feel like a clown right now. On top of it you notice that your bra is seen from under your shirt, and you can feel the embarrassment taking over your features again.

The ding of the elevator indicates that you reached his floor, and you wait for him to go out first so you can follow. Searching for his keys in the side pocket of his gym bag Ace pulls them up and unlocks the door. Opening the door, he nods at you to get in first. Taking a step in and taking off your boots you take a quick look around the place. It looks very neat and cozy, the walls are a very nice light cream nude colour.

“We can go to my room.” Ace says as he starts walking toward it and you go after him. While passing the living room you notice that there are a lot of paintings on the walls of flowers. Looking at you over his shoulder Ace notices you observing them. “It’s my mom’s hobby. Painting flowers is her new obsession.” He explains while holding the door to his room open waiting for you to get in.

“She pains very nice, they are beautiful.” You say as you look from under your lashes at him as you pass to enter his room. The room is quite messy, but you are not surprised or judgy as yours is not better condition than his. Some of the walls have basketball players on them and the walls are paint in a nice spruce blue colour. Next to his window is a big desk with his computer on it and by the looks of it he is also a gamer boy.

“You game a lot?” You ask trying to break the uncomfortable silence that has taken over again and also to calm yourself down because the realisation that you are in his room, in his apartment soaking wet just hits you.

“Yea, you can say this.” His reply is dry but unbeknown to you Ace is feeling just as awkward as you are right now. What was he thinking inviting you over? Especially with you looking like this right now, which causes his mind to run wild with the things he wants to do to you.

“Is that LeBron?” You point at one of the posters hanged on the walls to which he scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

“It’s Koby, um... it’s written with big letters on it.” He points back at the poster, and you awkwardly chuckle at your obvious mistake.

“Sorry, guess I need to check my eyes.” You let out a giggle as you try to lighten up the mood. Ace doesn’t share the giggle with you and at this point you are running out of ideas to how to make the situation less awkward. Chills run all over you and you wrap your arms around you to which Ace clears his throat.

“I can give you some clothes to change to, um... give me a sec and sit on the bed or something you don’t need to stand up.”

“It’s okay I don’t want to wet your bed or something.” You try to brush his offer off, but he just points with his eyes towards the bed so you just nod. Going to his wardrobe he starts to look for something that can fit you as well, but all his cloths will be too big on you. Finding some old basketball shorts and a baggy t-shirt he grabs them, ‘they should fit her’ he thinks to himself. Turning around and seeing you sitting crossed leg on his bed so innocently looking at him at the same time with guilt written all over your face, gets his pulse raising. Taking a few steps and standing in front of you, with a little bit of a distance, he hands you the clothes. You mouth a thank you and reach with your hand to take them.

“Why did you stop me from punching his face but not yourself from spiting on it? You realise that now you are the one in trouble not me?” Giving you the clothes he sits right next to you on the bed. This time his voice is calm, there is no trace of anger in it. Ace wants to genuinely know why you put yourself in this situation.

Trying to collect yourself you don’t know how to response to this question without making things between you two worse. How do you tell him that you like him so much that the fact that a guy like Jack trying to make some kind of fun of him makes your blood boil. How do you tell Ace in a first place that you like him?

“I-I told you Ace... I just... just don’t like people like Jack making fun of others.” You uncross your legs and put the clothes to the side as you start playing with your fingers nervously.

“I get this part without you needing to repeat yourself. But you came and told me to drop it only for you to go and do the same thing is not very smart.” Ace turns his head to face you, but you refuse to look at him. “(Y/N) look at me.” His words are demanding but his voice is not, instead it is softer and somehow pleading. Still, you refuse to look at him as you are afraid if you do so you won’t be able to resist the urge to just scream at his face that you have feelings for him. Ace curses under his breath and places two of his finger under your chin making you look at him. “I didn’t and I don’t care what any person in this fucking school will or already is thinking of me or the video they saw. In a few months none of these people will matter. And I have been wanting to punch Jack’s face in a long time and if it wasn’t for you, I was going to do it. But why did you have to get involved?” Ace is trying his best to get an answer from you but all he gets is widen from fear eyes and you biting on your lip to a point where he thinks blood will come out soon. With a sigh he drops the hand that holds your chin on the bed next to your thigh, his shoulders slumping a bit as he doesn’t know what do to or say to make you to tell him the truth behind your actions. “I’m not mad at you, I’m more concerned about what will happen to you now. I don’t want you to get expelled from school because of me.”

“They won’t expel me, I will get in trouble, but they won’t expel me for it, so don’t worry.” Your voice is quiet as you try to reassure Ace that he shouldn’t be worried about you. But the fact that he is concern about you is filling your belly with butterflies.

“This doesn’t answer my question (Y/N).” He says propping his elbows on his knees and resting his head in the palms of his hands.

“I-I can’t Ace.” You whisper.

“You can’t tell me? Why?” He straitens his posture again and looks at you in disbelief. “Why are you shy out of nowhere? Where is the confident rebellious girl that I know, now? You left her at school or something?” He is right. This isn’t like you. But you just can’t bring yourself to tell him, afraid of his rejection. You could feel your heart beating faster with every passing second.

“I- Ace... I- I... I did it because... because...” The words are on the tip of your tongue but saying them aloud is harder than you expected. Especially now with your eyes locked, the more you look into his deep dark eyes the more you are afraid of them rejecting you. “Because... Ace...”

“Just say it for fuck’s sake.” He snaps and at the same time you shut your eyes closed and blurt it out.

“Because I like you.” Silence filles the room. With your chest raising and falling fast you don’t dare to look at Ace, while he is trying to process what he just heard. Did he heard you right, you like him? Like you have a crush on him?

“Wh-what do you mean you like me?” His eyes widen from the shock and voice filled with confusion if you dare to open your eyes you will see his cheeks covered in blush as he still can’t believe what he has just heard. Not being able to take any more embarrassment for today you jump on your feet ready to run but Ace catches you just on time as you are about to open the door. Turning you around to face him and grabbing both of your wrists in his hands he pins you against the door with his body. “You can’t tell me you like me only to run away a second later.” He grunts as his face leans closer to yours. “How long?”

“Ace please...” You whisper pleadingly. Your legs are getting weak and your mind is getting foggy from having him towering over you. Not to mention the heat that forms in between your legs from the way you can feel his body on you.

“No. Answer. Now.” His voice goes lower and deeper sending chills on your body. “How long?” He repeats his question as he squeezes on your wrists but not in a painful way but in a very gentle yet demanding one. Looking away from his eyes he clicks with his tongue. “No, look me in the eyes.” Cursing under your nose you do as he tells you too. “Good girl. Now answer.”

“Since we start school.” You mumble quietly almost making it impossible for him to hear you.

“Louder (Y/N).” He presses his body on you entirely with one leg in between yours causing you to bite on your lip so hard just so you can supress the moan that almost has slipped your lips.

“Since we started school, okay? I had a crush on you since day one and... and then I started to like you... that’s... that’s why I-I...” You can’t finish your sentence as Ace crashes his lips with yours. It takes you a second to realise what has happened but the moment you do you return the kiss immediately. His kiss and his lips are better than you have imagined them - soft and full, you are a hundred percent sure you have never kissed a guy with such nice lips before. And the way he kisses you with passion and desire you are about to melt in his hands. Releasing your wrist and wrapping his arms around your waist you are fast to wrap yours around his neck.

“Jump.” Ace whispers against your lips and he doesn’t need to tell you twice. With one little bounce he catches you in his steady arms and lifts you. Wrapping your legs around his torso he continues to kiss you as this time his tongue licks your lower lips asking you to open your mouth. Parting your lips Ace wastes no time slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Electric currents are running over your body the moment he deepens the kiss. His tongue gliding with yours feels so warm and sweet. The taste of the kiss is a mixture of mint and the candy you and Robin shared earlier before classes.

Walking to the bed with you in his arms Ace places you gently in the middle of it as he hovers over your body without breaking the kiss. Now like this you have a better access to his body, you run one of your hands through his messy soft dark locks and the other over his hard defined with muscles back. Breaking the kiss to take the needed air both of you have forgotten that you need, Ace looks at you with half lidded eyes as he licks his lips which now are puffier from the kissing.

“You want this as well, right?” He sounds a little out of breath as his face comes closer to your ready to kiss your sweet puffy lips again, but also to make sure that you both are on the same page with where this is going. You can’t find your voice so all you can do is nod your head and pull him for another kiss. This time you don’t supress the moan that wants to escape your lips when you feel his hand grabbing and squeezing your thighs as he slides them under your skirt.

Feeling the soft skin of your thighs and hearing your sweet alluring moan, Ace feels his dick twitching in his shorts. Removing his hands from under your skirt he finds the zipper of it and unzips it. Pulling away from the kiss and you, he gives you a few slaps on the side of your right thigh to lift your hips so he can take off your skirt. Doing as you are being told he takes it off fast and sighs with pleasure at the view in front of him as he parts your legs.

“You sure red is not your favourite colour?” He smirks as he teases you over your red lace panties which now are drenched from your wetness. “Come on, I have only kissed you, not even properly touch you yet and you are this desperate for me?” Ace licks his lips not moving his eyes away from your covered pussy.

“You are not the one to talk.” You are quick to tease him back as his hardened bulge is being quite visibly defined in his basketball shorts.

“I’m not even fully hard yet.” He smirks from satisfaction seeing your pupils dilate. Hovering over you once again Ace kisses you again but only for his lips to travel to your jawline down to your neck. Him kissing and nipping your neck, while his hands are running up and down your thighs, feels like you are levitating. Finding your sweet spot on your neck, Ace gives it a lick and then sucks on it causing you to jerk your body upwards from the pleasure and goosebumps he has just caused you, but he is fast to hold you firm under him with his hands and body. “Stay put.” He whispers in your ear as he bites on the soft part of it causing you to whine under him.

Running your hands down on his biceps you realise that he has way too many clothes, and it’s time for him to get rid from some of it. Reaching with your hands down to his torso you find the ends of his compress shirt and start lifting it. Knowing what your intensions are, Ace helps you with removing the shirt as he throws it somewhere across the room. You feel your pussy throbs from the sight of him shirtless. His chest is defined and muscular and so are his abs which get your mouth running dry. You run both of your hands over it, feeling his warm and soft skin under your fingertips, you bite on your lower lip as you notice a tattoo on his left arm, which you have never seen before.

“Enjoying the view?” He chuckles as his hands reach for the buttons of your shirt and start unbuttoning them one by one. Propping yourself on your elbows, you help him take it off. Reaching to unclip your bra Ace is quick to stop you. “No, this can stay. Red looks good on you.” His voice has gone raspier and he gently pushes you to lay back on the bed again. Pressing you once again on the matters he dips his head in the crook of your neck and slowly trails his lips down to the valley of your chest. With his hands now on both of your breasts he cups them and squeezes gently.

While he is busy kissing the skin around them and massaging them you are exploring the expanse of his back and shoulders. Reaching the waistband of his basketball shorts and determined to take them down, you get distracted as you feel Ace pushing one side of your bra lower and wrapping his lips around your harden nipple. Your hands move to his hair instantly as you push him closer to your chest. He doesn’t let your other breast feel left out as his thumb and index finger are switching between soft and hard pinches making you whine in pleasure.

“Ace please.” You beg him as you can feel the pool of arouser that has formed in between your legs. Rasing your hips a bit so you can get a bit of friction to his harden bulge he pins you down again with his body making it impossible for you to move. Letting go of your nipple with his lips and looking up at you he shakes his head. His dark brown eyes are now filled with lust as does his mind.

“Do you know how long you have been teasing me with these stockings you come to school and your innocent glances at me all the time?” He asks you while rolling his hips on top of you with a hiss. Your eyes widen with surprise as you heard that he has caught you staring at him all the time in school. “What you think I haven’t notice?” Ace laughs mockingly at you. “You think I haven’t notice you getting all dolled up for our first meeting for the project or these beautiful thighs since day one?” He teases you with his low deep voice as he stars traveling down with his lips on your body.

Moving his hands and placing them at the back of your knees Ace raises them and places your legs on his shoulders leaving you entirely exposed to him. Running his fingers on your stockings up to where your thighs are exposed, he lets out a sigh full of satisfaction. Your soft and beautiful thighs which have been driving him crazy for months, now are finally in his hands and the things he has been planning to do to them are about to come true.

With one hand caressing your left thigh, he starts slowly placing a trail of kisses on the inner side of the right one. As he gets close to now your drenched lace panties, he bites softly on your softest part of your inner thigh causing you to jerk closer to him as you can’t stand his teasing anymore.

“Ace please... please touch me.” You are so desperate for his touch that a single tear falls from your left eye.

“Sh, patience.” He is quick to hush you as he turns his attention now to your left thigh and does the exact same thing all over again but this time with his kisses are slopier. Not only the waistband around his basketball short is getting tighter but so are his boxers. It takes all his willpower to withhold himself from taking them down and fuck you aggressive on his bed, but before he does this, he must taste your pussy.

Gripping on the side of your hips a bit to harsh but not on purpose, Ace drags your lower body even closer to his face and finally he is able to inhale the sweet smell from your soaked pussy. Kissing your pussy lips over the fabric of your panties, a whisper leaves your mouth. Tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his nose, Ace stops at your covered entrance and kisses it, causing his lips to get wet from your dripping pussy. Licking his lips and taseting how sweet your cunt is, he can’t help but moan himself. Holding you still firm in his arms with legs propped on his shoulders, he reaches with his right index to move aside your panties.

“Oh God you are so beautiful.” His voice comes out as a whine of pleasure as he finally uncovers you and he can see your coated from arousal pussy. You can’t help but clench your cunt around nothing as his comment makes you squeeze your thighs from desire. “Ye baby, make this pussy throbs again.” Ace being pussydrunk by the sight in front of him, can’t move his eyes from your cunt as he is in an awe. You do as he has told you and another moan leaves his lips. The view of your wet pussy leaking with your arousal almost made him finish on the spot.

Not wasting a second more Ace buries his face in your wet folds. Taking one long lick from the entrance to your puffed clit your whole body shakes. Cleaning all the sweet juices off he is now entirely focused on your clit. Sucking and licking the bundle of nerves Ace gets you twisting and turning under him. A sudden impactful slap causes tingling sensation on your ass cheek. A mixture of pleasurable pain and surprice leaves your lips.

“Stay still.” Is the only thing Ace tells you as he looks at you with a hungry look in his eyes and lips still on your pussy. “Or you won’t finish.”

Inhaling deep as he goes back to eating you out you are now entirely up to his mercy. You can no longer move or squeeze your hips afraid that he might deny you your orgasm. Sucking harshly on your clit, he extremely gently bites on it which caused you a feeling of pleasurable pain that you have never felt before, he slowly moves his tongue to your entrance. Plunging his tongue in your entrance he starts to slowly tongue fuck you which causes your eyes to roll from pleasure. Taking a better hold of you with his left arm Ace reaches with his right hand and places his thumb on your clit and start to run circles around it. With his tongue fucking you and his finger playing with your clit you feel the pleasure building in your lower stomach. Gripping the bedsheets under you in a tight grip your hips start to shake. It takes one stronger push on your clit from Ace’s finger to get you crying out his name as your orgasm hits you like the truck.

Ace rolls his eyes from pleasure the moment he feels you clenching your pussy around his tongue as your sweet cum covers his tongue. Not even bothering to stop until he licks the last drop from you Ace doesn’t move an inch from your pussy.

“Ace, Ace please... please I’m too sensitive... Ace...” You try to make him stop but all the air has left your lungs and you feel dizzy under him. With one last long lick and a kiss placed on top of your clit Ace finally pulls his head away from between your thighs. Taking your legs off from his shoulders he lays them spread on the bed. Coming closer and hovering over you he brushes the hair from your face and kisses your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips as now he is slowly kissing you as his lips and chin are covered in your pussy’s juices.

“You taste so sweet, baby. I can get addicted to the taste of you.” He whispers as he pulls from the kiss. With half lidded eyes and still recovering from the aftermath of your orgasm you cup his face in your hands and pull him for another kiss. Relaxing his body on top of yours, you can feel his dick twitching in his pants. Sliding one hand in between your bodies you trace the harden bulge with your hand and squeeze it causing Ace to hiss from pleasure. Breaking the kiss again you both looking into each others’ eyes.

“I think your shorts needs to be taken off.” You swallow hard as you gently massage his hard member.

“Yea, I think so too.” Sitting on his knees again Ace pulls down his shorts along with his boxers freeing his harden cock. Your thighs clench at the sight of it. His cock is not only big, but it is also thick and vainly. Precum is already leaking from his redden tip as he runs his hand up and down his shaft. Moving to stand from his bed he takes the shorts and the boxers off entirely and kicks them on the floor. He reaches to his nightstand and open the last drawer taking a condom from it. Ripping it open with his teeth he slides the condom on his length and hopes back on bed, nesting himself between your legs. “Are you ready? Relaxed?” He hovers over you and looks at your eyes to see if there is any sign of hesitation in them.

“I am Ace.” You breath out as you adjust your body more comfortably on the pillows behind you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him closer to you.

“You are not a...” He awkwardly scrunches his face as even though he is sure you are not a virgin, he rather be safe then sorry.

“Uh, no... I... I have done it a few times.” You chuckle a little shy and also finding it adorable that he is so mindful about your comfort as well. Nodding he spreads your legs open a little more with one hand as he runs the tip of his dick up and down from your clit to your entrance.

“Relax and enjoy then.” He says as he kisses your lips once more and positions his tip on your entrance. You bite on his lower lip as with a little push he entrances you slowly. The feeling of burn is taking over your core because of his size and seeing this, Ace gives you some time to adjust to it. Clenching around him he hisses from pleasure which instinctively makes him trust in you. A moan of pleasure escapes your parted lips, and this gives Ace the sign to go.

Rocking his hips slowly but steady in and out of you, Ace has propped himself on his elbows on both of your sides and is looking down on where your bodies are connected. Trying to muffle your whines and moans by kissing along his neck and shoulders, your hands are exploring his chest and back as you can’t get enough of the feeling of his soft skin on yours.

Increasing his tempo as he feels you relaxing more under him Ace grabs your legs again and place them on his shoulders, raising your lower back in the air as he grabs a pillow and places it under it. Now standing steady on his knees, he has put you both in a better position where you can feel him better and deeper in your gummy walls, hitting the sweet spot causing you pleasure all over your body. Now focused on your breasts bouncing with every hard thrust he reaches with his hands and pinches your hard nipples causing you to arch your back from pleasure. Clenching and unclenching your pussy from pleasure around him, your moans mixed with his grunts fill up the room.

“Shit, if you continue to squeeze this tight I... shit...” He lets out a moan as you squeeze on more time your pussy around his dick. Grunting, Ace puts down your left leg and turns your body to the side as he keeps your right leg up. In this position, hitting your walls sideways you can’t help but roll your eyes from pleasure. You can feel the burning sensation in your lower stomach forming once again indicating you that you are close.

Seeing you arching your back and rolling your eyes, with fists clenching around the bedsheets a cocky smile spreads across his face. Ace feels like he has never seen something sexier than you right now - your puffy swollen lips parted and your boobs bouncing up and down with every trust his dick makes deep into you.

“Ace, I’m goin...” A muffle cry leaves your lips, making it unable for you to finish your sentence as your whole-body jerks and shakes around Ace as you milk down his dick. The squeezing of your pussy as you climax on him, makes it feel tighter for him and Ace can feel that he is about to cum soon. With the feeling of your warm gummy walls hugging tight his dick he trusts now harder in you than before. The sounds of your skin slapping and the hot air of sex that has taken over the room makes him roll his own eyes and with one last thrust he shoots his head back and a loud groan leaves his lips as he cums with his dick buried deep in you.

With both of you trying to catch your breaths, Ace pulls out after a minute from you but before he gets from the bed he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. Grabbing his boxers before he leaves the room, he tells you that he will be back in a moment to which you only nod as you are still recovering from your high. Coming back after a minute in the room with his boxers on, he carries a wet towel with him.

“You don’t need to do all this I can do it myself.” You protest but Ace shushes you as he sits on the bed next to you and gently cleans the mess between your legs.

“I clean after myself, plus you said you don’t want to wet my bed, right?” He chuckles as he messes up with you. Hiding your face with the palms of your hands you laugh at his comment.

After he made sure that you are good and alright, Ace helps you to put some cloths on and both of you get under the covers of his bed. He is leaned on the headboard as one of his hands is placed over your shoulders with your head on his chest. Runing circles on his chest with your fingers you move your head a bit to take a better look at him.

“Um, Ace?” You quietly call for his attention and he focus it on you. “Can I ask why were you arrested?” You aren’t sure if this is the best moment to ask this, but it is worth the shot. Ace hums and takes a deep breath before he answers.

“I was getting in school fights a lot and one day I broke a guy’s arm from my class. But this is not why they cuffed me, it was because I was high and had weed with me.” He explains short and clear. “I got kicked out and with a lot of connections and thanks to my grades, my mom managed to get me into the shit of school we go now.” Saying this he looks down on you and chuckles sarcastically. “You still like me now?”

“The question is do you like me?” You are still scared of the answer as having sex with you don’t equal mutual feelings.

“About this...” Ace takes a deep breath in and can’t help but laughs as he sees your face going blank from fear. “How do you feel about a date this Friday?” He gives you a charming smile and you are finally able to breath again.

“As long as I don’t get grounded after today, it is a yes.” You smile at him as you would love to go on a date with him.

“Then this should give you your answer.” He kisses the top of your head as you snuggle closer to him.

****

You two have fallen asleep when Ace suddenly jerks awake as he hears something falling in the kitchen. Looking around his room is dark which means you two have taken quite the long nap. Moving you aside a bit as he gets up to check what made the noise. Putting a t-shirt and a pair of shorts to cover his body, Ace leaves the room fast as he doesn’t want to wake you up.

Getting in the kitchen he is met with his mom stern but also warm gaze.

“Care to explain why you left school early today?” Rogue asks her son as she is preparing dinner. Ace blushes as he realises now that his mother is home there is no way possible that he can sneaks you out nor that she hasn’t notice the pair of girly boots by the entrance of her home.

“Uh, yes ma. But you know... I kinda have someone over.” He awkwardly scratches the nape of his neck. Rogue can’t help but laugh as she sees Ace whole face getting flushed.

“Mm, I kind of already figured this out.” She half shrugs with her brings her focus again on the cutting board. “Is she your girlfriend?” Taking a glance at her son again she giggles as he is struggling with finding the right words to describe the situation.

“Soon to be... maybe... yea something like this.” Ace murmurs avoiding looking at his mother.

“Well, then she should definitely stay for dinner, don’t you think?” Rouge puts the knife down and smiles at Ace. This is new. She has never met any girl Ace has liked or let alone catching him with one at their home, so she is more than excited to finally meet a girl who her son is interested in.

“I will ask her if she wants to.” Ace says as he turns to walk back to his room.

“Is she the girl you are paired with for biology?” Rouge calls after Ace before he leaves the room to which he response with his thumbs up without looking back at her. A big knowing smile placed on her face. She knew it. She knew that his recent behaviour is caused because of a girl. And she can’t wait to meet her and thanks her for bringing her son’s sparkle back.

END NOTE: This is the first smut ever that I write so please I need a feedback if it was good or not. I really hope that you have enjoyed this one shot as I really tried to build the characters and their characteristics + behavior in the best way possible giving the fact that this won't be a series. Also I hope that you have enjoy the little interactions between Ace and his mother Rouge as I feel like he would be such a mama's boy but not in the awful unhealthy obsessed way, but in the very healthy mother-son relationship. Anyway I won't be yapping more - if you liked this short story feel free to like, comment, reblog or inbox me ♡ And as aways thank you for reading my works ♡

writing, format, header & dividers © eand47 ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[etherealily]

𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽 // 𝙉𝙁𝙅!

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Drugs.

I don't know if this is milder or darker than the previous parts, but I do know that it is LONG.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You're fun and you're wild, but you don't know the half of the shit that you put me through

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

TUESDAY, LIBRARY, 4 PM.

"We need to talk."

Suddenly, Carl Jung had never been more interesting, your eyes unable to rip away from the words on the paper in front of them, ignoring Nate as much as possible.

Your shoulder suddenly jerked, and a soft whisper followed. "Hey. We need to talk."

Frowning, your eyes darted between the two Jacobs brothers, the looks on their faces not strict, but the most infuriatingly stoic gazes mankind had ever known.

"You had quite a weekend, right? Anything crazy happen?"

The real question Aaron was asking was whether you were going to talk about it.

"Nope, just lots of psych homework."

"See, this is why I'm telling you to drop Psych. Unnecessary stress.", remarked Nate, his fingers rapping on the table in an almost musical pattern. Almost, because music is art, and there was nothing artistic about the false smile he was giving you.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"How are the rest of classes going?" Small talk?

"Great. Chem is pissing me off, though."

"Eh, well, only nerds are good at Chem, and I don't fuck with nerds. So you're lucky."

Oh, thanks, man. Such an honour.

"Are you good at Chem?"

"I pass."

"Where'd you get time to study? What with all the vapes and parties and quote-unquote 'dozens of bitches'?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "I got good work-life balance.", he replied, leaning on his arms closer to you. His head tilted and you knew something psychotic was about to happen. Well, it was Nate. You knew something psychotic was about to happen the second he walked in.

"I'll bet."

He smiled at that. "Are you my friend, Y/N? Are we friends?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. We're on the same page.", he hissed, moving in closer, glaring at you with the same eyes that had been acting as a dam to his true emotions two nights ago. "You can't tell anyone." His fingers deftly twirled your hair around before tucking it behind your ear.

"About?"

"Saturday."

"How you threw a lamp at me?"

"What you heard about my Dad. What he wanted to... what he said. What you learnt about our family."

"I won't."

"No, seriously, Y/N, don't fucking play with me right now. You'll regret it if you do."

"I'm not playing around, either. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Good.", sniped Aaron. "'Cause we'll fucking ruin your life if you do."

"Aaron.", whispered Nate, shaking his head. "She already said she wouldn't."

"And you trust her?! She walked in with this polite girl attitude and then when shit got tough, she yelled at you with Mom just a room away. And you told me she wanted to fuck Da-"

"Aaron, shut the FUCK up, okay? She said she isn't going to, so she won't." The glares were back on you, an unwelcome blanket in the heat of tension.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to have to say stuff about you , too."

"Aaron, I said fuckin' drop it."

"No, she gotta know what's at stake, or she's going to take this shit lightly."

You could almost see the vein pop in Nate's head.

"Nate, what... what stuff?"

"It's nothing. Just... we needed incentive.", he muttered, shrugging.

"What incentive?"

"You're buddy-buddy with a drug dealer, Y/N.", he continued, although, to his credit, it seemed with a little reluctance. "And he has access to a lot of shit, right? Who knows if he's ever slipped something into your drink and... y'know."

"What the FUCK? What the FUCK, NATE?"

His idea of incentive was making you a rape victim?!

Being shushed by the librarian solidified your thirst for homicide.

"I mean, you fucked Shane voluntarily, so you're already a fuckin' whore.", he declared, shrugging again as if he was just stating that the sky would be lit up by fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Maybe he just thought it would be easier, without all the playing-hard-to-get-shit. You're close enough that he trusts you to watch over his store."

"You can't FUCKING be serious! FEZCO WOULD NEVER FUCKING-"

"How sad, you're in denial.", tutted Aaron, pouting. "How would you know? He could have used shit stronger than Rohypnol, ya know? Shit that could knock you out cold for hours, and maybe he even called a couple of his trapper buddies-"

Aaron shut up quite quickly when your knuckles met his jaw, but started cussing you out when Nate pulled you off of him. "We're just saying, Y/N, you don't tell anyone the truth of that night, we won't tell them the lies about Fezco."

You pointed your finger at Nate's chest, hoping to god that that would distract him from the rage-induced tears pooling in your eyes.

"You're a fucking coward, Jacobs. With a pervert dad. A fucking coward who can't admit that he has no idea what the fuck he's doing."

"Big words coming from a girl that was raped by her dealer."

OH, someone needs to euthanize this motherfucker.

FUCK. NATE. JACOBS.

TUESDAY, 9PM

Nate had no fucking clue why he was doing this.

He was just drunk, he supposed. Drunk and horny. Average teenage experience.

But it's like.. he could've done anything. ANYTHING else. He could've actually gone to the party, picked up some girl, screwed her into the bed.

But no.

He sat there, scrolling through the fucking SlutPages. For who?Shane's sister, maybe, because of the inexplicable hatred he'd been feeling for him for about a month that he couldn't really think of a reason for? You would think, wouldn't you?

He looked for you.

There was no way you were a virgin. But he should've known there was also no way you were a slut. Or at least, that you were smart enough not to end up there.

He almost fucking threw the phone onto the wall. Fuck.

And you'd blocked him. That was the problem. He couldn't even text you. And he didn't have your fucking phone number, Jesus fucking Christ, he should've gotten it! Relying on something as flimsy as social fucking media was stupid. Idiot.

Wait. Social media.

He quickly slid his chair over to his computer, his hands moving with a pace and mind of their own.

No fucking way would he admit this, but his brother... had some good ideas, once in a while.

When he was fourteen, he'd been wide-eyed, watching through the crack through a door as his older brother -17 at the time- created an account, some random username, some girly bullshit, and then gone Incognito, finding a picture to add.

And then he watched as his brother spent hours poring through pictures of girls - at the time, Nate's seniors- and then suddenly sigh.

"You know, you breathe like fucking Darth Vader?" "What's that?", he'd asked, ignoring that comment and padding over to sit next to him. "This account? I'll tell you, but it- it's like... private brother shit, ok?"

"Shit". What a novel word that was at the time.

"Okay." "Spit-swear it, runt."

He spit-swore. A thing he never fucking did again.

"You can use it. Whenever you're down bad for a chick but you're blocked." "Why would a chick I'm down bad for block me?" "You're so obviously fourteen."

And god fucking damnit, was he.

Not that he was down bad for you. But all he'd say is if this wasn't love, it was pretty fucking close. Why you enthralled him, no clue. You were so easy to rile up, but hard to push too far. You always seemed to be limitless.

He logged in.

Good, the loser, Crestin, posted a story.

Good, you were there in the background.

Great, you were hot.

Bad, you were drinking. Tequila. Wasn't that you and Nate's thing?

Of course, he wouldn't presume to have taken your tequila-V-Card, but he most definitely would have assumed that you'd associate tequila with him. With that night. He'd assumed you'd stay away from it, metaphorically forsaking him in the process.

But no.

Shane's tequila was non-traumatic, and apparently delicious. Ugh.

This simply would not do.

TUESDAY, SHANE'S PARTY, 11PM

"No, NO, GET the FUCK away from me!", you warned, pointing a finger at him. You should've taken his advice and learnt to shoot. "I'm warning you, Jacobs!"

Shane's party was meant to be the one place you could be to avoid Nate, seeing as the host was some sort of Nate-repellent, but NO, you'd just apparently underestimated Nate Jacobs once again.

And here he was, his hand gripping your wrist - just like the rope you wanted to grip his neck - and glaring down at you as if you'd just killed his entire family but he was mildly turned on by it.

"Y/N, just fucking listen! Just- stop causing a scene! Fuckin' LISTEN!", he ordered, grabbing your shoulder with one palm and pointing at you with the other hand, to stop you from writhing away from him.

"You can't just do what you did last week and then expec-"

He kissed you. What did he think this was, fucking Disney Channel?

"NO! NO!", you shouted, shoving him away and secretly hoping for a car to hit him as he stumbled back.

No such luck.

It really was the world according to Nate, wasn't it?

"You know it's okay, right? It's alright."

"What?"

"It's okay to want me.", he informed you, as if he was telling you it was okay to sing in the shower.

Everyone does it. It's like, a thing, relax.

"It's okay.", he continued, "People want what's bad for them all the time.", he murmured, his thumb tracing your lip like he was tracing out a line he wanted so desperately to cross. "It's human nature."

"You think I'm bad for you?"

He took a deep breath, as if he was about to tell you you were terminal. "I think you're good for my soul. Like a baptism without the water." His thumb moved further into your mouth, just barely grazing your teeth.

"Even you have no clue what that meant, admit it."

"It's called effect, Y/N. Drama. Intrigue. Doesn't have to make sense."

You stared up at him, waiting for elaboration, and that earned a huff from him as he looked around at the other people in the front yard - doing lines, making out, throwing up - before turning back to you. "No, honey, I don't think you're bad for me. In fact, I think you're unnecessarily good for me."

"Unnecessarily?"

"As in, I don't need your energy."

"Then why are you so insistent on being around it? 'Cause you want to fuck me?"

"No! Jesus. It's in the name, Y/N. GOOD luck charm. You help me do GOOD in my games. You're good energy."

"What's next? You gonna tell me my birthstone?"

"Oh, shut up.", he chuckled, shaking his head as he moved your jaw from side-to-side in what seemed to be a playful gesture, but at this point, could very well have been him trying to ascertain which cheek to shoot into or something. "You got your licks in. We good?"

"Good? No. NO. We're not good! You threatened someone I love, so no fuckin' way are we good!"

"I know, I know. Aaron wanted me to-"

"BULLSHIT!"

He sighed, as if you were his deranged relative who was climbing up some telephone pole.

"YOU just can't handle the fact that I saw you almost fucking cry! I caught you weak, and that's a power shift, and you don't FUCKING like it, do you?!"

His jaw ticked for a moment, but he managed to let out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. And then, as if what you said wasn't quite literally exactly what he was feeling, he asked, "Are you done?"

"NO, I'm not fucking done! I still haven't got to the part where you threatened to accuse him of rape, which is a fucking terrible thing to joke about in the first pla-"

"Look, man, I don't have time for this shit, okay? I'm not hurting Fezco! I came here so I could tell you something."

"My GOD, Nate, you made your point! I won't tell anyone!", you groaned, snatching a drink from some already-tipsy guy's hand and downing it.

"That's totally hygienic.", he remarked, eyes finally tearing away from you as you both watched the drunkard stumble over a girl who was getting rid of her lunch and breakfast in the bushes.

"I got new incentive.", he murmured, his forehead against yours, and his thumb rubbing your cheek as if it owned land there.

"What, now you're going make Shane out to be a rapist, too?"

Not a bad idea, actually. The corners of his mouth curled down, and he scanned your face as if he were actually thinking about it, eliciting a tsk from you.

He hid a chortle as he continued. "I'm offering you a deal. You were right, back at the bleachers about the control thing."

He was about to ask you to sell your soul, you could fucking feel it.

"So... you get to control me. For however long you need. Like, a month, a week, whatever. Just don't tell anyone about my family."

Whoa. Plot twist. You did not expect him to sell his soul.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure. So if I asked you to show up to school naked?"

"Yes, I'd show up to school naked for you. But it's funny seeing me naked is your first instinct."

His trust issues were suddenly working out in your favour- he was essentially offering himself up as collateral.

"If I ask you to announce a formal apology to me on a bullhorn before your game?"

"I just want you to leave my family alone, Y/N."

So that's where Nate Jacobs' humanity began. At his family. Noted.

"I promise. I'll do anything." The urge to say 'then die' was strong, but not invincible.

You wracked your brain looking for something you could make this psychopath do that would not cause him immense pleasure.

"Ah, see? Being the one in control isn't all it's cracked up to be. Too much power, and you don't even know what to do with it.", he taunted, pouting as he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead harder against yours. "Think. What is it you want from me?"

What the fuck did you want him to do?

"Do you want an apology? No, 'cause I've already given you plenty and you don't want meaningless things, do you?" His lips lightly touched yours and you could swear he smirked when you flinched on reflex.

But no. That wasn't what you wanted. He was spot-on.

"You want... do you want money? I'm a trust fund baby, essentially, right? My father basically owns the town. Sure, I could hook you up. Royal Enfield, BMW. Or, if you want, Chanel? But that won't cost me anything, at least not emotionally, yeah? So no. That's not it, either."

Why did you suddenly feel like your thoughts were transferring into his head?

"You want me? You want to cut me up, just like I forced you to watch me do to myself? You want to hold a gun to my throat like I did to you? No, because I'd low-key like it."

Yes, he would. So no, you didn't want it.

"C'mon, think. I'm at your mercy, I'm all yours. There's definitely one thing you want and you're just too much of a pussy to say it."

Why were you letting him do this? Why did you just accept that it was the world according to Nate?

"You wanna know what I think, huh? Huh? I'll tell you what I think.", he murmured. "I think you want me to care."

That got your attention. "Care?"

"I think you actually want me to give a shit about you, so you can justify to yourself why you keep lettin' this happen, don'tcha?", he asked, thumb rubbing your jawline. "You want me to stop acting like this whole thing between us is a game. You want me to acknowledge what I'm doing to you."

You hated this. You hated when men were right - it was ridiculous. And you absolutely despised when Nate was right, because it was dangerous.

"Look, I just want you out of my life, Nate.", you lied.

That had come out way too fast. That was the easiest thing he could do. That was the kindest thing you could have ordered him to do. That was mercy.

So why was he acting like you'd just asked him to jump into a fire?

"That's it?"

He didn't buy it. And neither did you. Because yes, you'd technically be very reasonable to want him out of your life. But no, the danger, the unnecessarily sexy amount of mortal peril you'd be in every second that you were around him- it was your fucked up version of heroin.

"I don't think you understand just what you're asking. You're going to miss me."

You scoffed and he shrugged, in a gesture that only seemed pitiful, as though he were allowing you to believe that for the time being.

'Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, baby', you could almost hear him snark.

"What if I miss you?"

You shrugged, downing another shot - one you'd stolen from a drunk girl this time. "I dunno. Just don't."

"You'll still come to games? Fist-bump me?"

"Still come to games? I guess, maybe? I'll high-five you, or something."

"I'll think it over." Wait, wasn't he the one who was making an offer?

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

He found you almost fifteen minutes later, probably after mulling it over with a drink.

"I accept your terms. I'll go out of your life, starting Monday. However, I've got a little som'n som'n to show you.".

An AK-47? An atom-bomb? A grave he dug specially for you?

"It's a surprise. Only an hour. That's all I'm asking."

Only your sanity. That's all he was asking.

You'd promised yourself you'd never take anything from Nate Jacobs again, and you'd stuck to it.

I mean.

That was until he'd offered you molly.

Molly made you happy.

Molly made you forget stuff, like college apps, the loss of your internship and the fact that you'd basically been lying to your family the entirety of last week about the scar on your forehead.

But how he'd found that out was a question for the ages. And he seemed to know exactly what molly did to you.

And you best believe he was milking it.

"I want to get a tattoo."

"Okay...?"

"Correction : I want us to get a tattoo.", he whispered, before tsk-ing at your derisive snort. "C'mon, you get to draw whatever you want on me and I'll get it tattooed, I promise!"

"Tattoos are permanent, Nate."

"And you know what? So am I. In your life. In your head. On your lips.", he reminded, grinning mischievously, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

You barely fought against him - the ecstasy sprinting through your blood vessels - and you found yourself lying back on the grass, his hands bracketing your hair.

"Just fucking draw something on me, Y/N. Come on. And I'll draw something on you. Yeah? Sound good?", he asked, his hand creeping up your shirt with surprising reverence.

He chuckled breathily against your lips, shaking his head as he rolled off you, lying next to you.

"I'll draw something nice and meaningful. And you get to, as well. Nothing cheesy, though. Like a fucking arrow-heart or an anchor or some shit."

"How about a star?"

"What, a star is not cheesy? That's the cheesiest thing ever. That's the pussy tattoo.", he muttered, before looking up at your eyes, sighing magnanimously. "What kind of star?"

"The ones that are hard to draw. With all the lines."

"Really, Y/N? I give you the chance to mark my body up and you want the hardest thing to draw from second grade?"

"Where'd you want it?"

"Where will you be willing to touch me?"

That was a million dollar question. Willing is a very subjective term.

"Neck. Under my ear."

You nodded, taking the pen he'd brought and gently tracing out a couple stars under his neck. He played with some of your hair that had fallen in front of his face, with terrifying dedication, as you did so. "Yeah. Done. You actually getting this tattooed?"

"Now you.", he ordered, grabbing your wrist, not answering the question. Red flag number eleven thousand. The pen lid in his mouth and a focused furrow to his brow, he began drawing.

"Infinity symbol.", he informed you, before you could even ask.

"Why?"

"I dunno. It's meaningful. 'To infinity and beyond'. Favourite Disney Movie, right?"

"That is not my favourite-"

"Yeah, well, it's mine. Buzz Lightyear is like, my hero.", he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the drawing and then kissing it softly, all while looking at you.

"Really? You seem like a Big Hero 6 guy to me."

He laughed deeper. "You always take me so seriously."

"Fuuuck, I know I'm not supposed to say this..."

He lolled his head over to you. "You could tell me you're Ted Bundy reincarnate and I'd still smash."

You decided to ignore that comment. "I'm not supposed to say this, but... but I get why Rue did it. Like Jesus fucking Christ."

He nodded in understanding, looking at the tiny packet that still had a couple pills in it. "She was just too weak to limit herself. But we got no limits. You got infinity on your wrist."

"Look, Nate, I can't tattoo that shit. My family would kill themselves."

"Same."

"Then why did you-"

"We're gonna do something that could go either way. It could either freak you out or turn you on. On the off chance that it's both, then we're more similar than you realize.", he slurred, lazily brushing hair behind your ear. "'Kay?"

"What are we gonna do?", you asked, trying your hardest to pull away, but the ecstasy made you genuinely defenceless against human touch. And it didn't help that Nate was holding your arms tightly down on the ground, as if he were trying to plant roots.

"We're going to carve the tattoos."

He said it so conspiratorially. As though this was your secret to surviving the zombie apocalypse. And his fucking eyes. Glowing like fireworks. Glowing like a child finally being told he could get what he wanted for Christmas.

"WHAT?!"

He licked his lips with an almost roll of his eyes as he looked up at you, because you were so clearly overreacting, right? Slitting your own skin in the shape of an infinity on it was a perfectly normal teenage activity. Of course. Drinking, smoking, fucking, slicing.

"I'll do it. I'm experienced, as you know.", he scoffed, his lips at your shoulder now. "We only have about fifteen minutes left of your curfew, Y/N, please. Please? Play nice."

The molly was clouding your senses, clearly. You could tell because a) you were still having this conversation and b) you didn't even question how he knew what time your curfew was, and c) you hadn't punched him yet.

"Think about it, it's less permanent than a tattoo, baby, please."

And then he placed another one of those little pink pills on your tongue, pressing down and forcing you to swallow.

MONDAY.

The scream came too late to your liking.

You'd tried to scream faster, but everything had come rushing back to you. The fever dream was not a dream. It's always relieving when terrible 'realities' end up only being dreams. It's a different kind of terror when you realize that the nightmare was real.

The number eighteen was etched on your wrist like a pathetic mark, like... like a brand.

You couldn't even begin to figure out just what the fuck that was supposed to be. Eighteen? How was that meaningful? The year it becomes legal to have sex? Freedom, maybe? Joy?

He wanted this aneurysm in your head. He'd placed it there.

FUCK !

FRIDAY.

"What? What is it you want?!"

He frowned, his face softening out of genuine confusion, making him look almost comically harmless in the harsh stadium lighting. "You said you'd still fist-bump me."

"What does 18 mean?"

He shrugged, holding out his fist. You rolled your eyes, bumping it with your own. And then, after telling yourself you were imagining the ghost of a smirk on his lips, you froze. Because he'd turned, running off to the middle of the field. You saw his back.

His jersey. 18. FUCK. He blew you a kiss about two seconds before the ball was passed to him. 18. FUCK.

"Did you just fist-bump Nate?"

"Yeah."

"Why?", asked Maddy, scoffing softly.

"He was talking to me about the project and then he said he had to go, so I wished him luck and... I guess I fist-bumped him."

"Oh, yeah, ew, the project. How's that going?"

"I scrapped it."

"Why?", she questioned, after shaking her pom-poms and screaming out some over-enthusiastic cheer.

"I don't fucking like him. At all. He's a DICK."

"What? No way. I had no idea.", she muttered sardonically, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "But was it, like, really bad?"

You nodded.

"After the game, you wanna do molly?"

"No." The reply was almost immediate.

"You don't wanna do molly? Don't bullshit me. Shut up. You're doing it with me."

You'd have hugged Maddy for knowing you so well if you weren't so focused on the big, blue, number 18 running on the field, matching the big, red one staying still on your wrist.

FRIDAY, 9PM

Staying over at Maddy's was an offer you shouldn't have declined, because it was getting genuinely infuriating how Nate found out things.

You were still extremely lacking in sobriety when he'd crawled into your bed that night, covering your mouth to make sure you didn't scream. How? Million dollar question.

"You want me to tell you a secret?"

"A secret? Wait, not some bullshit about my lips that you came up with?"

"I listened to Queen."

You sat up. "WHAT?"

He chuckled, sitting up as well and tilting his head while resting it on his knees. "What? Elvis, too. I even watched Blue Hawaii. I low-key liked it. Why? Would it have changed your mind?"

You frowned for a moment, before shaking your head. "Still would've been nice to know."

"Okay, how about you just kiss me now, Rue 2.0?", he asked, tracing out the number eighteen on your wrist before looking up at you through slightly furrowed brows. That was a challenge, of sorts, that gaze.

"You have something to ask me." Didn't take a genius to figure it out. Insinuation was painted all over his face. He had an accusation and he needed you to defend it.

"When Shane fucked you, where'd he come?"

You frowned, staring at him for a moment. "Yo, I- what? Where is this coming from?"

"At practice he was saying he fucked you."

"He's a dickwad, of course he did."

"It doesn't bother you that he's spreading that shit?"

"If I paid attention to every rumour some butthurt, fragile-ego jock spread about me, I wouldn't have time to fucking study."

"Your reputation's gone, though. That's fine for you?"

You sucked on your teeth for a moment before exhaling. "You're here to find out if I'm easy?"

He looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"If I did this, Y/N, would you stop me?", he asked, shifting to his knees at the foot of the bed. "Hm? If I just...", he trailed off, kissing up your knee to your thigh.

"Nate. Stop."

"That's not stopping me.", he murmured, gripping your back and yanking you closer.

You kicked him away, grimacing. "Get out."

He gazed up at you, and for a moment there, it seemed like he was rooting for you, for the rumours to just be cruel rumours and not true.

"Get OUT!"

"You can't let me kiss you and then just... it doesn't work like that."

The world looked glittery and he looked godly kneeling down there.

His tongue licked slowly up your inner thigh. "C'mon. Take it off. It's just me."

"Get out."

He rolled his eyes, yanking your shorts down himself. "I fucking...", he murmured, voice muffled against your skin. "Love you."

"You don't fucking love me!" You were struggling but it was fruitless.

"I could."

"Get out, I'm not bullshitting."

"C'mon.", he murmured, reaching up to unhook your bra before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "C'mon."

"No! Get off!" His hand held you down.

"Just let me-", he muttered, his fingers finally removing your underwear as he pressed a chaste kiss higher up your thigh. Your breath hitched and his smirk widened, albeit, with a bit of disappointment. "There we go."

Kicking him away, you finally snapped. Maybe it was the molly. Maybe it was his tongue. Maybe it was the fact that he'd somehow found out that molly made you make extremely bad decisions. Maybe it was the fact that he knew you wanted nothing more than to fuck him that night.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, NATE! YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE ME ALONE MONDAY, IT'S FRIDAY! GET THE FUCK OUT, PLEASE!" He took every kick and every punch like a total champ, you'd give him that.

The disappointment left, and he smiled, softly, caringly, like a mother hanging up her child's drawing on the fridge, as he wiped your tears away.

Standing up, he grabbed your hair, staring into your eyes so deeply you were half-wondering if they'd changed colour, before patting your shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Proud for disproving a rumour?

You watched his shadow on your wall as it climbed down the window behind you.

Look, one thing could be said. Nate Jacobs was a man of his word. He did not speak to you. He did not text you. He did not acknowledge you.

You'd blocked him online and he'd blocked you in real life.

However, his other account still kept tabs on you.

Average social media interaction.

Shane Crestin ended up in the ER later that night.

Average Nate Jacobs interaction.