#that was kind of a heated conversation we just had about trust!

[prettysweetprettysweet]

the scream of absolute horror i let out when i realized what was happening. Achi what is the single worst thing you could have possibly done in that moment and why did you choose to do it????

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[ramonathinks]

BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB

stuck in an elevator with the three elite billionaire sons of Bruce Wayne.

tags: (18+) fingering, squirting, pet names (doll face, baby, sweetheart), dry humping, dirty talk, ripping of clothes, confided spaces, brothers who share, oral (f!receiving), making out, hickies, nipple play, kinda exhibitionism (???), foursome, mention of breeding kinks, praise

notes: i imagine reader as black but i don’t think i used any physical description [repost!]

It was a tight fit. It had you rubbing your thighs together to calm the heat and aching throbbing between your legs. Crossing your ankles together you held your purse tighter and inhaled, trying to think of anything but your three bosses — but their presence was too powerful and overwhelming in this tight and suffocating elevator. Dirty and primal lust filled the air and you swallowed hard trying to ignore it.

They were all so tall, so lean and their muscular bodies took over all of the small space that you were confined in. Awkwardly rolling your hips, trying to ease your aches without being noticed, your body trembled a bit. Your stomach folded in as the mixed aroma of their colognes entered your nose — a musky smell of pine caused you to bite your lip.

The elevator was quiet besides the occasional rumbling but you couldn’t help but feel queasy, feeling as if they all were staring you down.

Quiet yet quick shuffling was heard before you noticed a tanned hand pressing yet another button. You tried to pay no mind to it until all at once the lights flickered and a loud bang started, you gasped aloud and backed back into a hard chest.

“S-sorry,” You stammered, pushing yourself off of whoever was behind you. You tried not to memorize the feeling that your hands felt of the muscular and broadness of his chest, your face felt hot and with the sudden change of temperature it was only worst.

“It’s fine, doll face.” Came the response of the one and only Jason Todd, his voice made you shiver with delight and the ache in your core returned again. Your blazer and tights making you feel stuffy and hot, as if you were wearing too many clothes. “You okay?”

You didn’t trust anymore of your voice but you nodded. Heat pooled between your legs listening to his deep and throaty voice and the nickname he bestowed upon you. Self fanning yourself a bit you looked off to the side, seeing Dick to your side, who winked at you.

“You’re looking pretty hot there,” Dick brought himself closer to your ear and blew a bit near your neck. He chuckled when you jumped back. “I don’t bite baby, you know, unless you like that kind of thing…” His piercing dark blue eyes scanned your face before eyeing your lips.

“No need to be scared.” Tim finally spoke up. You felt a shift in the air before he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in to his chest.

That’s when it clicked for you. Jason pushed the button to halt the elevator. As if reading your expression, their laughter shook the elevator. “Finally figured it out, yeah?” Jason’s eyes were equally piercing as Dick’s but it was the smirk and the white streak of hair that was making you fold.

“She’s been here, what..? About 3 months?” Dick quirked an eyebrow to him, who you felt nod against your shoulder. “Still haven’t noticed us… our stares… our conversations that we always try to rope you in… you just gave us nothing—”

“So we had to do something to get your attention.” Jason finished, bringing his calloused yet soft hands to caress your face, rubbing at your cheeks before removing your glasses from your face.

Grinding his hips against yours, Tim kissed the sides of your neck. Your breathing quickened with every tainting kiss before his mouth opened and then you felt pure wetness dripping down your neck. His thick long tongue licking up a pattern as he grinding himself more against you, you could feel how hard he was, how thick he was and just how big.

“I… I don’t understand…” You muttered, mainly to yourself. Trying to control yourself but your hips were already rutting against Tim’s, quiet moans leaving both of your lips.

“Shh…” Dick pressed a finger to your lips. “It’s nothing for you to understand. Just know… we’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now.”

“And we plan to make you understand every inch of it, baby.” Tim panted in your ear, you could feel his hands trailing up from your waist leaving a hot trail until he landed on your breast. “Jason, mind giving me a hand?”

It was almost too quick how Jason undid the buttons to your shirt, leaving both the shirt and blazer on, he was tempted to snap a picture. Looking at the position you were in made him want you even more. “So fucking beautiful.” He blew his breath on your nipples, watching them both get hard and erect.

He was never too big on sharing. But with his brothers? It was something different.

You yelped, feeling more heat hit your now bare legs as Dick stretched and ripped the flimsy fabric thighs you were wearing. He turned to look at Jason, “You owe me.”

With hungry eyes, Jason looked between your legs and sucked his teeth. “Fuck.” He groaned. Black lacy panties.

Was it wrong for the brothers to bet what type of panties you wore? Probably. But damn did it pay off.

Bumping his nose against your clothed clit at the same time that Tim tweaked your nipples you tried to move away from them, it was too much. “W-Wait!”

Jason moved closer to you and touched your face again, “Shh. It’s okay.” He cooed before he leaned towards, keeping his eyes on yours.

Everything happened all at once. Your eyes rolled back once you felt his tongue slither inside of your mouth with no warning, his brothers feeling you up it was almost too much for you to focus on — the rhythm of Tim’s hips, Jason’s tongue swirling inside of your mouth and Dick playing with your drooling covered pussy.

Jason applied pressure to your tongue before licking the insides of your mouth, both sides of the cheeks before he sucked on your tongue. Even with your eyes closed, you knew he was still staring at you. Each moan they pulled out of you, another one added pressure.

“Oh fuck,” Feeling Dick pulling your panties to the side and hearing him moan. Your slick wetness sticking to the black Lacy panties you were wearing. “Such a pretty mess down here.” He licked his lips. “Such a pretty little pussy, fuck, you like when I say talk to you down here baby?” As if the dripping all over wasn’t enough of an answer, he smiled before dipping his head down.

You held your breath, expecting him to get straight to the point. But instead, he kissed your thighs. Trailing deep kisses up and down, getting closer and closer to your clit every time. Your breathing uneven, Jason moved from your mouth to your breast, his teeth tugging on your dark nipples, still meeting your eyes.

Dick’s muffled moan drew your eyes to him. You watched as his wet tongue tugged at your folds before slurping up the juices that spilled out of you. Your legs were trembling and if it wasn’t for Tim, you would’ve fell over.

“You like what he’s doing to you, sweetheart?” Tim whispered. “Imagine what it’ll be like when I’m cumming inside of that pussy, you hear me? Matter of fact. When we’re all cumming inside of you, gonna birth a heir to this company, aren’t you?” He sucked on your ear lobe and your pussy tightened up when Dick tried to put his tongue inside of you.

“Don’t scare her off, Tim. He’s just playing around baby.” Jason told you, kissing the valley between your aching breast.

Parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, Dick drove his tongue inside. “Oooh, I…” You we’re babbling. Wetness dripping on his face and even on his expensive shirt as he licked and slurped, nibbling on your puffy clit.

Tim didn’t like how left out he was, the brothers could see it on his face. With another long suck on your clit enough to make you even weaker on your knees, Dick rose up.

“W-wait I didn’t get to—” He covered your mouth with his, holding the sides of your face and massaging the breast that Jason was neglecting.

A sudden intrusion inside of your pussy made you moan aloud. You were so focused that you didn’t feel Tim parting you open for his fingers. “So fucking tight, right here. Such a small pussy. Can’t wait to break her in.” He purred, moving two of his fingers faster inside of you. His hips digging into yours, Jason now sucking on your throat. The gentle fiction from Tim’s slacks driving you even more crazy since his fingers are working too. Using his thumb, he pressed on your clit and dragged his thumb up and down adding pressure each time.

You were struggling to keep your balance. Your voice was hoarse as they had their way with you. Your entire body shaking while you whimpered against them, tightening up on Tim’s fingers and he groaned, stretching them inside of you.

With clenched teeth Tim told you, “Breathe. Fuck, sweetheart. It’s just me, just open up a bit more.” It was feeling good being stretched so good while two other boys felt you up with their hands and their mouths.

You were getting so dizzy. Your orgasm attempting to push through. You didn’t know how you didn’t come yet.

Licking up the pulse on both sides of your neck, Dick and Jason shared a look. You didn’t know what it meant until they both dropped to their knees and eyed your swollen clit.

“Oh you weren’t lying. I knew she’d be pretty. But this is truly a pussy, so smooth and bare.” Jason smirked, pulling your lips open, watching his brother’s fingers dipping inside. Then he moved forward and kissed your aching clit.

Your knees buckled and you threw your head back while Tim continued to hold you up and fuck you with his fingers. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Jason did a deep groan, putting your clit in his mouth and mouthing his head back before letting your clit bounce back before doing it again.

His tongue was putting in work, licking up and down your clit. Feeling another set of wetness you thrusted your hips forward, begging for more, not realized Dick had joined in on the assault of your pussy.

The strokes of their tongues plus Tim’s fingers moving and stretching you so deep, you rode out every feeling you possessed and when Tim pushed in deeper inside of your gummy walls that held him so tight, he pressed and circled your insides until he felt you clench harder than before.

It was the hardest you ever came, your limbs snapping, body shaking hard, babbling words and your pussy squirting out a clear liquid of slick on both of the boys below up, who happily drank it up. You felt drunk as you slid down to the ground.

With wild looks in their eyes, the brothers straightened themselves out, looking over your appearance. Dick pulled your blazer over you and Jason continued to rip the rest of your tights. Tim, got the elevator back on track.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still haven’t faded, your body still twitching and shaking. You could hear them talking to each other, “She’s completely fucked out. She won’t be able to go back to work like this.” Dick said.

“Can’t take her home or Bruce will have our heads for fucking with his best assistant.” Tim replied while Jason just laughed.

“Well,” Jason picked you up as if you weighted nothing. “I can always take her back to my comfy loft.”

Tim and Dick looked at him as if he was crazy. “So you could get started without us? Ha, very funny.” Tim snorted.

“Let’s just find her address on the company—” The elevator dinged and stopped, the doors opening to the person none of you wanted to see.

With wide eyes Bruce Wayne frowned at the sight. Putting a hand over his forehead he did a deep sigh, “Do I even want to know?”

The boys all shook their heads and Tim quickly pressed the button to the company garage. “Let’s just get something to eat first.”

“Works for me.” You yawned, looking dreamily at the three boys.

[fyodoro]

UNEXPECTED LOVERBOY

-> in which you overhear your calm and secretive boyfriend gushing over you like there’s no tomorrow (1.1k wc)

Cw) gn!reader, manga characters (no spoilers), sakura still malfunctions when it comes to romance topics

Calling Hayato Suo an enigma would be an understatement.

Not a soul knows what lies under that eye patch. He’s calm, collected, and composed at almost all times, but it was a task of its own to grasp why. It’s impossible to catch him eating anything other than teacakes, and he often replaces his meals with a hot cup of tea. He claims to be on a diet, but every diet needs some protein incorporated into it.

Everything there is to know about Suo can be followed up with the same question: “Why?” and “What?”

However, there was an exception to his mysterious nature: You.

Of course, you didn’t know that. Hell, even Suo failed to notice his quite obvious soft spot for you until now. But as Nirei’s eye glittered with joy as he scribbled new notes onto Suo’s page in his notebook, and Sakura’s pupils shrunk with his cheeks flaunting a new shade of red, everyone knew.

Hayato Suo’s in love.

“(Name’s) a beauty, really. They may be rough around the edges at times, but I’ve never met anyone with a soul like theirs,” he babbled uncharacteristically.

He brought his teacup to his lips with closed eyes, missing the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. But the moment he opened them, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “What’s with the shocked faces?”

Umemiya coughed into his hand graciously. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all,” he began, too immersed in the conversation to notice you entering Kotoha’s cafe. “It’s not often you ramble like this.”

“I didn’t know Suo could be so open about his feelings,” Nirei exclaimed with a smile. “You must reallyyyy like (Name), huh?” he questioned, holding his pen in one hand and notebook in another as if this were an interview.

Suo’s head tilted. “Of course I do, that’s why I’m dating them.”

“You’ve been rambling on and on about (Name) for almost 10 minutes, it’s gross,” Sakura grumbled with flushed cheeks.

“But we wanna hear more! Keep going,” Nirei added.

Everyone looked at Suo attentively, including you. Somehow, the group failed to hear the bell chime when you entered the cafe. You’re clueless as to what’s going on, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it had something to do with you considering the amount of times your name was thrown around.

“My, if you insist,” Suo chuckled. “But I fear I’ve already said it all, unless I forgot to mention how cute it is when their cheeks puff up when they’re annoyed?”

Sakura held his head in his hands in fear that it’d melt off with how hot his face felt. “No, you didn’t. But we get it! You love (Name)!” he shouted.

“They’re impossible not to love,” Suo commented with his usual calm smile.

“That’s just Sakura’s romance sensor going haywire,” Kiryu teased. “Don’t mind him.”

The split-haired boy sulked in his seat, trying to dismiss the heat he felt on his face. “You’re all so…”

His voice trailed off, catching a glimpse of your frame standing behind Suo.

“Su-“

“Trust me, if you were in my shoes you’d be doing the same thing. (Name’s) one of a kind, not to mention beautiful. I can’t imagine a life without them, honestly.” The brunette went on, unbeknownst of your looming presence behind him. “Anyone can fall in love if their heart is stolen.”

“Someone like Suo being so head over heels in love… it must feel like a fairytale for (Name),” Umemiya chimed.

“Oh trust me, it does.”

Everyone’s heads turned to face you, except Sakura, who had noticed you seconds prior.

“(Name)?!”

“I didn’t know I could be such a fun subject of conversation, Hayato.” you teased, hands resting on your boyfriend’s shoulders as you leaned down to his ear.

He gulped, hiding his flustered heart through his relaxed exterior.

“We were just talking about you!” Nirei said happily. “Is it true? That Suo never lets you hold doors open, and holds them open for you? Or that he gave you his umbrella when it was pouring rain because he’d rather get soaked than risk you getting sick?” Oh! What about-“

The boy in question sat in silence, allowing Nirei to ask his heart away to confirm that this wasn’t one of his absurd lies.

You nodded at the blonde. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Except he technically kept the umbrella- he just held it over me so my hands wouldn’t get cold,” you corrected, recalling the awful weather of that day.

“What a romantic~” Tsubaki swooned.

“I try my best,” Suo smiled shyly.

“Suo never talks about his life! This is the most he’s ever told us, (Name)! Does he talk to you about his personal life?” Nirei inquired politely, trying not to make you feel pressured into answering.

You thought for a moment. For one, you felt honored that Suo didn’t wanna keep your relationship a secret like the rest of his life. But the blonde’s question made you realize something yourself- you really didn’t know much about your boyfriend’s personal life.

“Well… what can I say? He’s a mystery to everyone, including me.” you replied unsurely, glancing at Suo from the corner of your eye.

“Interesting…”

Nirei wrote something down in his notebook, and you didn’t bother looking. Instead, you held eye contact with Suo. He didn’t have to speak for you to know what he was thinking.

He wasn’t hiding anything from you. He just didn’t like talking about his past, and you understood.

“My love, you know more about me than anyone else in this room,” he stood after finishing the contents of his teacup. “After all, you were the one who told me to take baby steps, correct?”

You vaguely recalled those words. It was weeks ago, but he felt guilty for not telling you or anyone else about his history. In response, you told him to take as long as he needed, and baby steps were always the first steps.

“I did,” you affirmed. Your voice was soft, but it didn’t hide your intentions of making his heart pound a little harder. “But I didn’t think I'd catch you gushing over me like you’ve lost your composure~”

Suo almost broke, and you laughed.

“Woah, is Suo blushing?”

“Who could blame the guy? It’s the most open he’s been with us,” Hiragi commented with truth.

Kotoha giggled from behind the counter. “Not to mention how close (Name) is to him right now, it might be too much for the poor boy to handle.”

The red in Suo’s cheeks slowly faded, and he let out a small sigh. “I’ll see you all later, we’re gonna get going now,” he waved.

The two of you walked out hand in hand, and everyone else was left either baffled, confused, or unphased. Unless it was Sakura, who was somehow all three.

Little did you know, Nirei left a small comment on the corner of Suo’s page in his notebook.

‘Quite the loverboy.’

© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.

[sadprose-auroras]

'Dulcissima' - Lucius Verus x Fem!Reader SMUT

dulcissima: Latin; my sweetest

A/N: My god. I saw Gladiator 2 yesterday, and this utter filth just came pouring out of me. A major shoutout to everyone who has BEEN writing for this character, I just had to contribute my little part. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Also take a shot every time I mention his big blue eyes and massive arms like hello I'm sorryyyy can you blame me!!! Also it starts off a bit shaky but trust me stick with it! I just can't not have some kind of backstory y'know

Word count: 3.3k

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, breeding kink, brief size kink, cumplay, vague oral fixation, brief mentions of colonisation and injury

RATING: 18+. By clicking 'read more,' you are confirming that you are 18+

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Pressing the cloth against his skin made him wince, the muscles in his arm jump, and though you typically would not, you pulled it away.

“I’m sorry, but I must,” you said gently, and it occurred to him that nobody had treated him with such humanity and sweetness in such a long time. “It will be over soon.”

You continued to clean his wound as gently as possible, trying to ignore the heat emanating off his body simply due to your proximity. To distract him, you decided to make conversation. You were no stranger to what it felt like to be a slave. For your home to be destroyed, to be dehumanised in such a monstrous way.

“Hanno, where is your home?” you ask, as you continue to work.

“My home no longer exists,” he said with a level of defensiveness, eyes lowering to the floor. “Not as it once did.”

“My ancestral lineage hail from Aduatuci. My parents, my parents’ parents, have all been slaves. We do not know any different,” you said. “But I have dreams of a free Rome, one of hope. I have heard of it, and I know it can exist. If not for myself, then maybe for my future children.”

The lilt of hope in your voice softened his shoulders immediately, and he finally made eye contact with you.

“Numidia. Numidia was my home. I was taken as a slave as they took our land. I will not know peace until I see the world you speak of.” You nodded with understanding, carefully placing your hand on his knee. His demeanour was completely different to the survival instincts you witnessed in the stadium. He was kind, gentle.

“I believe we can fight for that kind of world,” you reassured.

Once you finished tending to him, you gathered your supplies and stood up to leave.

“May the Gods bless you, Hanno,” you said. He reached out to grab your hand as you turned to leave, a lightning bolt of electricity shooting through you. You turned back.

“Wait,” he said, letting your hand go. “Will you come and see me tonight? Please? I could do with some company.” The vulnerability in his bright eyes made your heart melt.

“Of course.”

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Somehow, yourself and Hanno developed a bond. It became a cycle. Each time he was forced into the arena, you watched with a pit in your stomach, tears welling in your eyes. Each time he was victorious, the relief that flooded through you was incomparable. Afterwards, you would tend to his wounds, talking about your hopes and dreams for the future. He would speak of his life back home, tell you all about his childhood and his father.

Each night, you would sneak into his cell to talk more. It had dawned on you that he was your only friend. The only person who had ever understood you.

One night after a horrifying battle in the arena, you snuck in to see him. Drawing your hood down, you nodded to the guard at the door who allowed you through. He had also become an ally to you both, closing the door behind you and moving away to give you some privacy.

Hanno, or Lucius, as he had recently revealed to you was his name by birth, was sitting with his hands clasped together, gazing thoughtfully at the floor, a crease between his brows. When he saw you, his leg ceased shaking and he stood up to embrace you. His strong arms engulfed you, and you immediately relaxed at the familiar feeling. The prospect of losing the familiarity between you was becoming more and more frightening to you. An air of heaviness clouded this particular visit. It felt different this time.

“I am so happy to see you,” he breathed out, pulling away, caressing your arm. Casual touches between you were comfortable and common, especially considering you were required to touch him all the time when tending to his injuries. And yet, every single time, a shiver ran down your spine. Likewise, every time he pulled away, you could feel yourself physically tense once again. He made you feel like you could breathe.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you murmured, your bottom lip trembling, with what you weren’t entirely sure. It was like every time you saw him, your inhibitions were lowered more and more. You spoke without thinking, acted without speaking. It was dangerous.

“Oh now, dulcissima.” His hand caught at your chin, raising your head to look at him. Your heart immediately began racing rapidly, face flushing. The endearing term all the permission you finally needed, you gently cupped his face, gazing into his stark blue eyes, his long lashes. They stood out against the dirt on his face, the stained red blood smeared across his forehead. A shiver ran through you as his eyes flickered in pleasure.

“Han-“ you began. “Lucius,” you settled on for now. You could never decide what to call him. Either way, he was still the same. Strong, tender, solid, beautiful. Yours.

“I will always be yours, can you not see? This life and the next. You cannot lose me.”  

Unable to come up with any eloquent answer, you decided actions were more powerful. As if your lips had a mind of their own, you raised up ever so slightly on your toes to kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly. His kiss was soft and gentle as you tested out the feeling with one another, his hands moving to protectively cup the sides of your face, thumb stroking your cheek making you exhale through your nose. Your lips explored his, moving together in perfect harmony, coming up for air every few moments.

Your head was spinning with desire, everything else in the world fell away when he kissed you. His hands had moved into your hair, fingers threading through it, not quite pulling. Your hands seemed to have a mind of their own, running all over his bare back, sides and chest. The feeling of the hard muscle underneath your fingertips, especially when you could feel it jump with sensitivity, made you want to lick your wet tongue all over his body. You wanted, needed, to devour every inch of him.

Hanno’s kisses grew hungrier by the minute, hands massaging and tugging your hair now, pulling it free from its style. You moaned into his mouth, which made him pull away for a moment and press a finger to your lips.

“You must be quiet, dulcissima.” You fought the urge to buckle your knees at the sound of such a sweet term in his rough voice.

“I know,” you murmured against his finger, absentmindedly scratching your nails down his back as you spoke, revelling in the way his mouth opened slightly at the feeling, eyelashes fluttering. “I will be, I promise.”

“Do you?” he asked, finger now teasing at the entrance of your mouth. You nodded ever so slightly, taking his finger in your mouth, swirling it with your tongue. You closed your eyes, coating his finger in wetness, moving your mouth up and down exploringly.

“Mmmhmm,” you moaned as an answer around his finger. The way he was watching you with hooded eyes, bottom lip taken between his teeth, was making the wetness pooling between your thighs impossible to ignore. He gazed at you as if you hung the stars, as if you were a goddess he was worshipping.

You took your mouth off his finger with a pop, and he began to trace it down your throat slowly, leaving a trail of your own spit. You trembled under his touch, lifting your chin to allow him more access. He reached the swell of your breasts, continuing down between them. You pushed your garments down off your shoulders, arched your back to close the gap between you, chest heaving in desperation. You would feel pathetic if it was anybody else. But he made you feel so safe. You could completely be yourself, express your desires.

“My Lucius, my strong one, please,” you breathed, hungry hands now tugging at his hair. “I need you to take me. Make me forget everything. I want to only remember you.”

Without warning, he swept you up in his arms, a gasp escaping your lips, as he expertly laid you down, hovering above you. You took a moment to take him in; his pink, pillowy lips, tousled hair, scruff beard, shining eyes. Not even the midnight sky, nor a sunset, or a shimmering ocean, was so breathtaking.  

“My love,” he scanned your face, causing your heart to skip a beat. “My love,” he repeated himself, beginning to kiss down your neck over your shoulder, across the top of your breasts, sucking and nibbling. Your entire body filled with goosebumps, and you briefly considered that you were not being nearly as quiet as you had hoped. It was so difficult when he was making you feel this overcome with ecstasy.

“I need to feel your skin on mine,” you whispered, tugging at his clothing. He lifted himself off you, standing before you. He removed his loincloth, tossing it aside, his erection standing before you. Your mouth watered as you took the sight of him in, face becoming impossibly hot. His manhood was proportionately large and thick, much like the rest of his broad, toned body. It made you feel so delicate in comparison. Various images flashed in your mind’s eye. A large, strong hand coming down hard on your ass. The other wrapped around your throat. His back muscles flexing as he pounded into you from behind, his hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming.

“You are so-“ you began to say, but couldn’t find the right words. Before you could finish your thought, he moved towards you again.

“Can I undress you?” he asked, hands moving steadily down your clothed body. You nodded vigorously.

“Please,” you squirmed, fluttering your lashes at your love. He motioned for you to sit up so he could pull your tunic off your head, placing it on the floor. You were left entirely bare, and if it were anybody else in front of you, you would feel self-conscious. But the way his fingertips gently stroked your sides, his big blue eyes bore into yours with care and understanding, made you feel like a goddess yourself.

“I want to worship you,” he began, covering his body with yours, mouth covering one of your breasts. “Lay you on an altar and pray over every single part of your body,” he murmured as he took your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue. You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders for stability.

“Tell me what else,” you whispered.

“Well,” he said between wet kisses over to your other breast. “Once I worshipped you, my goddess,” he said as he began to suck on your other nipple, tweaking the first with his fingers, making you arch your back. “I would then ravage you,” he said, not giving you a chance to respond except to moan into his mouth as he kissed you, the kiss all tongue and desperation. His beard was scratching at your delicate skin deliciously. You ached to feel this on your thighs.

You began to grind against his body as you kissed, attempting to relieve some frustration. You could feel his hardness pressing into your stomach, and it made your mouth water.

“Lucius,” you groaned into his mouth, perhaps a little too loudly.

Shhhhhh, he placed his hand over your mouth, tutting at you. He kept his hand there, his other one tracing a line down your stomach. Your entire body was shaking as you spread your legs apart, drops of wetness falling down your thighs.

“Quiet, my love,” he whispered, one singular finger finally, ever so gently, tracing your folds. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, bucking up into his hand. You needed more.

He noticed his reaction, groaning to himself. He couldn’t help but give you what you wanted. He used two fingers to apply more pressure, running up and down your soaked folds, hitting your clit and making your body twitch each time. He watched in amazement as you writhed in both desperation and pleasure, guiding his hand with your bodily movements.

Something switched in you at that moment, and you pushed his hand off your mouth, flipping yourselves over so you were now hovering above him.

“I need you in my mouth, lest I die,” you said breathlessly. He looked amused at your dramatics, but you felt his cock twitch against you.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” he said, and you both chuckled. Wordlessly, you turned yourself around so your pussy was over his face, his cock standing proudly in front of you. It was throbbing, looking almost painful. It made you love him even more, that he wanted you this badly.

“So beautiful,” you murmured, using your thumb to swipe the precum dribbling out of his head, licking it curiously. His deep growl was animalistic, and you felt his nails digging into your ass as he took you in his mouth, devouring you just as he promised. Simultaneously, you moaned as you licked a stripe up the underside of him, spitting a generous amount before slowly taking him into your mouth.

Being unable to see him only made you feel closer, as you could feel his mouth reacting to what you were doing. At the same time, his suctioning and licking of your pulsing clit, licking up and down your folds, was making you groan against him, the reverberation contributing to his pleasure. You began to grind your hips against his face in rhythm with your head bobbing up and down, eyes fluttering open and closed in bliss. His beard scratching against your inner thighs was painfully delicious, even more so than your imagination. You could barely breathe with how fast you were taking him in your mouth, but you did not care.

When he took your clit between his teeth and gently tugged, you gasped in pleasure, making you gag. You pulled him out of your mouth, a line of spit following. You felt the vibrations of him laughing against you. You turned around so you were face-to-face again, your legs trembling.

“Did that feel good, my darling?” he asked, unable to help himself from drawing circles on your bundle of nerves with two fingers as he spoke.

“I-Oh-So-G-Good,” you choked out.

“Would you like me inside of you?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his fingers.

“Yes, please,” you begged. He wasted no time in flipping you over once again, using his strength to pull your legs up onto his broad shoulders, your ankles intertwining behind his neck.

“I am yours, yours, yours,” he repeated like a mantra. “Yours,” the last one came out with a groan, as he swiftly entered you halfway. Your breath was taken away in the best possible way, his thickness impossibly stretching you out.

“You’re so big,” you moaned, shaking your head, inadvertently clenching around him. He gritted his teeth.

“It feels so right. So right to be this close to you. I need you every day, every night, all the time,” he rambled, as he pushed all the way into you, bottoming out. You nodded rapidly in agreeance, finding it difficult to speak.

“Is that okay?” he asked, intertwining your fingers together above your head. You nodded again, licking your lips. Your mouth had gotten a little dry from hanging open in pleasure.

“I want you to fill me up like this forever,” you answered, tossing your head side to side deliriously. “I will always need you.”

Something flickered in Lucius’ eyes. He dropped one of your hands, instead pinning both of your wrists down with one hand. He used the other hand to draw circles on your clit, as he began to move inside you. Slowly, gently at first, but not for long.

Before you knew it, it felt as it he was going to split you apart. He was grunting with each thrust, your promises to keep quiet entirely forgotten. The rhythmic sound of your wetness as he moved in and out of you echoed throughout the cell, and it was quite possibly the most melodic sound he had ever heard. You could feel him deep within you, hitting your cervix which took your breath away each time.

Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, the veins in his arms protruding out. You moved your hands so he was no longer holding your wrists down, and he complied immediately. You needed to touch him. With shaking hands, you ran your fingertips all over his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles flexing with each thrust. You worked your way up over his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair, then back down to his arms. You dug your nails into his biceps, surely leaving marks.

“Fill me up with your seed, dulcissime,” you echoed his sentiment from earlier. “Make me ripe with a child so that we may carry on a hopeful legacy for generations to come.”

He groaned, profanities escaping his mouth in a deep, guttural voice.

“Say that again,” he demanded, fingers still circling your swollen, aching clitoris.

You gripped his hair in your hands, pulling him close to whisper in his ear.

“Get me pregnant, dulcissime. I need your hot, sticky seed inside of me.”

This undid both of you. You reached for one another, mouths slotting together in harmony. You stifled your moans with kisses, as you felt him spill inside you and warm you up. The feeling sent you over the edge, as you pulled his hair even harder to steady yourself. A warmth flowered all the way from your sternum to your extremities, your pussy pulsing around him as you rode out the high. Your entire body felt like it was floating, spots clouding your vision.

“My love, my darling,” Hanno murmured, his stomach rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. You kissed again, as he cupped your face gently.

Wordlessly, he gently, achingly, pulled himself from inside of you, and you both watched in awe as the point where your bodies met were no longer together. His seed was dribbling out of you, coating you and making you itch.

“Can I clean you up?” he asked gruffly, barely waiting for an answer as you sighed out, “God, yes,” as he moved down your body so his face was crowding between your thighs. He licked a swipe up you, making your entire body twitch with aftershock. You practically screamed, the overstimulation almost too much to handle. Almost. You shoved your fist into your mouth to stifle the noises.

You watched through hooded eyes as he licked up every drop of his own seed, grinding onto his face, chasing the pleasure. You were delirious, not a single thought in your mind beside Lucius. When he was finished, he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, and you moaned out loud at the sight. He returned to kiss you once more, and you could taste the familiar taste on his tongue, making your stomach swoop with desire.

Pulling away for a moment, he rolled over onto his back, pulling you with him so you were folded into his side, leg draped over his, his large arms engulfing you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your sweaty temple, wildly juxtaposing his actions from mere moments ago.

He gazed down at you with those incredible eyes, sighing blissfully. He moved a piece of hair from your face as he spoke his next words.

“I hope you know I meant every word, dulcissima. I want to build a future with you, for you, for our children. I vow to always protect you.”

You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

“We will build our home together,” you replied. And for the first time, the future you imagined, a future full of hope and possibility, felt closer than ever before.

[oh-katsuki]

it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops

cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,

wc: 3.1k

nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.

frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.

he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.

you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.

you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.

"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."

"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."

"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."

nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.

"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."

"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.

"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."

"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."

nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.

you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.

you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.

you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.

one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.

"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.

nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.

"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."

"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."

you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"

"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."

nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.

you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.

nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."

"sorry," you say.

"don't be," he responds.

this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.

"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.

"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.

"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."

you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.

you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.

"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.

nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.

you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.

"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."

nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.

"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.

"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.

"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."

you shake your head, "you."

nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.

you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.

something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.

nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.

"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."

nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.

"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.

you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.

you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.

nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.

your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.

for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.

you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.

instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.

you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.

"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.

nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.

nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.

you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.

"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"

you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."

nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.

"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.

something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.

nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.

a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!

[reidmarieprentiss]

hii. Idk if this is too weird/confusing… but

I have this idea of post prison reid and bau agent reader.. We all know that post-prison, reid is like different.. he’s more rough looking (??That beard, rolled up sleeves and disheveled look) but also carry himself with so much more confident? And how he gets more muscle. Overall just getting sexier. But we also know he’s got a lot of trauma bc of what happened. Maybe the reader is loving this whole changes, but as a gf, she’s also kind of worried about his wellbeing. Maybe when he caught the reader eyeing him and got distracted by how good he looks given everything (you can get a little suggestive), but it turns to a conversation about this whole ‘change’ thing??? you can go with it however you think best.

I just.. i think a lot about post-prison reid, how it feels like he burried most of his discomfort/trauma so quickly and idk maybe just started to put up this tough guy kind of ‘persona’ (at least for what i felt watching him in s13-s14 ish lol)

Anyways! You can write however you think best with this. Thankyou so much!! Love your work🫶🏻🥰 💜

Not Strong Enough

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: post prison Spencer, crying, showering together, prison flashback (kinda)

Word count: 1.7k

a/n: this was such a good request omgggg i hope you like it 🫶🏻 and thank you so much for trusting me to write it ! <3

main masterlist

The evening sun cast a warm, golden hue across the apartment you and Spencer shared, the place you had carefully maintained while he was away. The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of the dinner you had prepared earlier. You were in the living room, absently flipping through a book, though your eyes kept drifting toward the doorway where you knew Spencer would appear any moment.

When he finally did, your breath caught in your throat for the hundredth time since his return. Spencer leaned against the doorframe, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those arms that had grown more defined during his time away. His hair was a bit longer, tousled in a way that seemed deliberate, and the beard—God, that beard—framed his face in a way that made him look both dangerous and irresistible. He had always been handsome, but now there was something different, something more rugged, more raw, about him.

You loved it. You couldn’t deny that every time you looked at him, a heat blossomed in your chest, and you often found yourself getting lost in daydreams that weren’t always appropriate. But beneath that attraction was a worry that gnawed at you, a concern for the man beneath the changes.

Spencer caught your gaze, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile as he pushed off the doorframe and walked over to you. “You’re staring,” he teased, his voice low, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your neck, but you didn’t look away. “Can you blame me?” you replied, letting your eyes travel up and down his body with unabashed appreciation. “You look… so good, Spencer. God. Really good.”

He chuckled softly, sitting down next to you on the couch, his presence commanding your full attention. “Is that so?” he asked, leaning in closer, his eyes darkening as they locked onto yours. “What’s so good about me?”

Your breath hitched at the proximity, and for a moment, you forgot the concern you had been harboring, lost in the way his presence seemed to envelop you. “You know exactly what I mean,” you murmured, your hand coming up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard against your fingers. “You’ve… changed. Not just how you look, but how you carry yourself. There’s this confidence, this… edge.

Spencer’s eyes softened, the playful glint fading as he turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm. “I’m still me,” he said, though there was a note of uncertainty in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You nodded, your heart aching at the vulnerability you could sense just beneath the surface. “I know you are. But… I’m worried about you, Spencer. You went through so much, and I know you’re strong, but sometimes… it feels like you’re trying to be someone you’re not. Like you’re putting on this tough exterior to hide what’s really going on inside.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned back against the couch, his hand slipping into yours. “I guess… I had to be tough in there. It’s not easy to just turn that off, you know? And maybe… maybe it’s easier to pretend I’m okay than to face everything that happened.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart breaking a little at his words. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Spencer. You don’t have to be strong all the time. I love you, and I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, the mask he had been wearing since his return slipped, revealing the hurt and the fear that he had been burying deep inside. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared that if I let myself feel everything, it’ll break me.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, hoping to convey all the love and support you felt for him. “Then let me help you carry it,” you whispered against his lips. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He kissed you back, deeper this time, his hands coming up to cup your face as if grounding himself in your presence. When he pulled back, there was a softness in his eyes, a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “Thank you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “For being here. For loving me, even like this.”

You smiled, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Always,” you promised. “No matter what, I’m here.”

Spencer pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if you were the anchor keeping him from drifting away. And in that moment, you knew that no matter how much he had changed, no matter how much he tried to bury his pain, he would always be the man you loved. And you would be there, every step of the way, to help him find his way back to himself.

—

The sound of the shower running had become a comforting backdrop in your shared apartment, signaling Spencer's return to some semblance of normalcy. But tonight, something was different. As you passed by the bathroom, you heard the faintest sniffle, a sound so soft you almost dismissed it. Almost.

You paused, hand hovering over the doorknob as concern twisted in your chest. Slowly, you opened the door a crack, peeking inside to see Spencer standing under the spray, his back to you. His shoulders were hunched, and you could see the subtle shake in his frame as he tried to keep himself together.

"Spence? Baby?" you called gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

He gasped, the sound muffled by the water cascading over him. "Hi, darling. What's up?" His voice was strained, an obvious attempt to mask the turmoil you knew he was feeling.

"Are you okay?" you ventured, your heart aching as you waited for his response.

There was a long pause, the sound of the water the only thing filling the space between you. Finally, he sighed, the weight of it heavy with unspoken pain. "...No."

You stepped into the bathroom then, your concern outweighing any hesitation. "Can I come in?"

"In the shower?" His voice wavered.

"Yes, baby," you replied, letting a small, reassuring smile creep into your tone, hoping to ease his mind even just a little.

You heard his quiet "yeah" before you quickly stripped down, the urgency to comfort him overriding any other thought. When you stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over your skin, you found him standing still, his hands clenched at his sides, as if he were trying to hold himself together by sheer will alone.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder blade. You held him close, your touch gentle but firm, grounding him in the present, away from whatever memories had resurfaced.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

Spencer's chest heaved with deep, shuddering breaths, the kind that come right before a sob breaks free. "I guess…I was just remembering what it was like to shower…there."

He didn’t need to say more. You knew what he meant, the horror of those confined spaces, the fear that had accompanied every moment, the helplessness that had seeped into his bones. Your heart ached for him, for the pain he was carrying, the trauma he was trying so hard to bury.

Gently, you spun him around, cupping his face in your hands. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears already mingling with the water on his face. You brought his head down to yours, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead, lingering there as if you could somehow kiss away the memories, the pain.

"You’re home, you’re safe, and you survived," you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with all the love and reassurance you could muster.

He nodded, his breath hitching as the first sob escaped, his tears flowing freely now. You held him as he cried, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. He clung to you, his hands fisting in your hair, as if afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, the memories would swallow him whole.

But you held him, strong and steady as you whispered soothing words into his ear. "I’m here, Spence. I’m not going anywhere."

Minutes passed, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure. Time seemed to stand still as you held him, the water now running cold but neither of you caring. Eventually, Spencer’s sobs quieted, his breathing evening out as he rested his head against your shoulder, utterly spent.

You kissed the side of his head, gently guiding him to turn off the water. "Come on, let’s get you dried off."

He nodded, his movements slow, almost reluctant, as if he feared the weight of the world would crash back down the moment you let go. But you didn’t let go, not even for a second. You wrapped him in a towel, guiding him to the bed, where you both sat down, still wrapped around each other.

As you pulled the covers over you both, Spencer rested his head on your chest, his arms around your waist, holding you close. "Thank you for being here," he murmured, his voice hoarse from crying, but laced with gratitude.

You stroked his damp hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Thank you for coming back."

And as you held him close, you knew that no matter what demons he faced, no matter how broken he felt, you would be there, every step of the way, helping him piece himself back together. Because you loved him—every part of him, even the broken ones—and you would never let him face the darkness alone.

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[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ You Too;

Pairing; fem!reader x fuck buddy!Lee Heeseung Synopsis; Caught between pleasure, you confess your love to Heeseung, only to face his cold resistance. For two years, your connection was built on sex, but your feelings have grown deeper than he can accept. As emotions spiral, raw truths and unspoken pain surface, culminating in a bittersweet goodbye. Genre; Angst; (this was written based on the lyrics of the song "You Too" by Chase Atlantic. More specifically: «It’s hard for me to end a conversation with ‘’I love you’’ when I know it’s not true.» Warning; It has a small description of a sex scene because of the story itself; It's Not really suggestive because it's sad asf; mean!Heeseung (he is kind of a dick); swearing; My Masterlist;

A/N: I wrote this years ago for another blog I had. It was saved because I thought it was so good! It's very sad so get ready... Heeseung stans, I apologize in advance! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you!

Those three words full of sentiment made him blank. He can’t believe you said it. He can’t believe you let your feelings take over something that was so primordial and basic like sex. He wants your body, but you want his soul, his heart, his love. Heeseung can’t love anyone, not again. Those three words transformed all of the desire he had controlling his body into a turn-off.

He lifted himself off you completely—not only off your body but also out of your life. He can’t love you back. He won’t love you back. He hates the fact that he doesn’t love you back. His whole body was shivering, his brain was shouting at him to leave immediately, his heart was breaking, and his soul was terrified. His stomach ached, and he felt like throwing up. Heesung stood up on his feet and searched for his boxers, pulling them back onto his muscular body.

You and Heeseung were in it; he was deep inside of you, sweat on his forehead, his thick eyebrows pushed together in concentration. Everything was hot and full of desire. The moment you finally came, your body felt like being thrown off a cliff, and you floated, the waves of pleasure taking advantage of everything inside you. The warmth of his lips against yours as he came made you say it.

Tears were creeping at the corners of your eyes. You said it. How ignorant of you, knowing he is hurt, broken, and afraid of love.

“Hee, please, stop this! Those words mean nothing; it was just in the heat of the moment… Please,” you beg him, grabbing his wrist, trying to stop him from doing his belt. The tall pink-haired man took your hands off his in an aggressive manner, pushing you back forcefully, causing you to fall on the mattress of your bed. You were sobbing uncontrollably. You had lost him…

How stupid of you.

“YOU STOP!” he yelled. “Stop trying to make me feel bad for not loving you back…” His t-shirt was already on him, almost making him look unbothered, but he had always looked so good in white.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Heeseung. We have been like this for two years—” The tears felt hot rolling down your cheeks, but the anger inside you just seemed to grow bigger. “—YOU SHOULD HAVE PREDICTED IT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!” you scream, this time very close to him, punching his chest, even though you knew it didn’t affect him.

“WHY SHOULD I?! FUCK, YN, WE ARE JUST FUCK BUDDIES, AND YOU KNOW IT! I TOLD YOU I DIDN’T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU BESIDES YOUR BODY!” Heeseung yelled, his fingers getting lost in his messy pink hair.

The pain was so obvious on your face—the red eyes and wet cheeks. He hated to see you cry. Your sobs almost made him feel horrible for what he was about to say, but he couldn’t give you what you wanted. He couldn’t love you.

“It’s your fault because you fell in love. It’s your fault because you trusted me. It’s your fault for giving me your body.” Now, he articulated slowly and in a low voice, trying not to hurt you more.

You wanted to beat him, slap him in the face, yell at him for being so fucking selfish… but all he said was true. And you felt so fucking pathetic.

“What are you going to do now?” you asked him, cleaning the tears on your cheeks with the back of your hand, trying not to look so pitiful.

Heeseung was already putting his black Fila trainers on—the ones you gave him last year. When he heard your question, he didn’t even bother to lift his head to look at you to answer. “I can find someone else to fuck. Don’t worry.” You laughed ironically, the sour truth leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and burning your sweet heart.

“I LOVE YOU, DAMN IT. WHY DON’T YOU SAY IT BACK?” you yelled again at him, falling on your knees with the tears streaming down your face once again. “I don’t care if your ‘I love you’ is fake, a lie, and completely empty. I can’t be without you… Please, don’t leave me…”

Now he walked toward you. Heeseung grabbed your hand and helped you stand up. Then he stared at your face for a whole minute without a word.

He admired your eyes—those eyes that used to sparkle with happiness every time you saw him—only to find sadness and disappointment. He stroked your cheeks with both of his thumbs, those cute fat cheeks he used to squeeze because he knew you hated it, only to feel them wet from all the tears you had cried.

He looked at your lips, the ones that caught his attention the most for being so plump and kissable. They were bloody because you were biting them too hard, hoping the pain would ease the bigger one in your heart. Deep inside, he was hurt too. Seeing you this way was truly heartbreaking. But no, his pride was more important than anything. Love is pain, and he wasn’t going to get hurt again.

Heeseung’s big hands cupped your jaw, and he kissed you. A simple peck that lasted at least five seconds, like he was showing how sorry he was without words. Then, close to the door, he took one last glance at you and confessed:

“It’s hard for me to end a conversation with ‘I love you’ when I know it’s not true…” You couldn’t differentiate if he was being cocky or telling the truth.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, comment bellow!

[mischiefinbloom]

Hiiiii! Could you please do a James x Hufflepuff!reader please? Just something really fluffy, maybe with the reader helping some first years with something, and James being super happy? 😊 Thx!!!

(Also, sorry if it’s kinda off, this is my first time requesting something 😅)

thank you for your request—it means a lot! I hope you enjoy it!

୧ ‧₊˚ something different

₊⊹ summary: your quiet kindness catches james potter’s eye, leading to an unexpected conversation and an offer that might change everything.

₊⊹ pairing: james potter x hufflepuff!reader

₊⊹ warnings: maybe one...? use of y/n, besides that, nothing!

it was a lazy autumn morning, and the great hall was bathed in golden light streaming through the stained glass windows. you were sitting at the hufflepuff table, the smell of toast and coffee mingling with the cheerful chatter of students around you.

lily evans, as always, was beside you, gesturing animatedly as she talked about the upcoming arithmancy class, something that seemed to excite her more than anything else that week.

"I need to finish this reading before class, but the library is unbearably crowded." lily sighed, turning the page of her notebook impatiently.

"we could go earlier, if you want." you suggested, taking a bite of the apple on your plate.

before lily could respond, a noise from the gryffindor table caught her attention. it wasn't uncommon for the marauders to be the center of attention in the hall, but that particular morning, it seemed sirius black was exaggerating even more.

he was laughing loudly, gesturing as he told some absurd story to peter pettigrew, who could hardly contain his tears from laughing so much. remus lupin seemed bored, focused on his coffee, but james potter...

you knew james potter was always noticed. tall, with messy hair and that confident smile, he seemed to radiate energy.

but that morning, he wasn't looking at sirius or peter. he was looking at lily.

"you're aware that james has been staring at you for the past ten minutes, aren't you?" you said, trying to sound casual.

lily rolled her eyes, "he's always staring."

you chuckled softly, but couldn't help but glance at james. he quickly looked away, as if he didn't want to be caught. there was something about him you could never fully understand. james was a force of nature, but he also seemed to carry something more. something he rarely let show.

that afternoon, you and lily went to the library as planned. the place was quieter than usual, which was a pleasant surprise.

while lily got lost in books on ancient runes, you decided to explore the herbology section. you were so focused on a volume about magical plants that you didn't notice when remus lupin appeared beside you.

"this one's good, but the author exaggerates the properties of mistletoe." remus's voice was calm, almost musical.

you looked at him, surprised, "you've read this book?"

remus shrugged, a small smile on his lips.

"I read everything."

it was easy to talk to remus. he had a calm presence that made you feel at ease, and his observations were always interesting. you ended up spending more time talking than studying, exchanging comments about the professors and classes.

"you're different from the rest of them, you know?" you commented at one point, referring to the marauders.

remus laughed, but there was something melancholic in his gaze.

"they're not as bad as they seem once you get to know them, trust me."

before you could respond, sirius appeared.

"moony, are you stealing evans's friend?" he teased, leaning against the shelf beside you.

you felt your face heat up, but remus just rolled his eyes. "cease it, sirius. don’t bother her."

sirius smiled mischievously, but then his gaze fell on you.

"careful, darling. staying too close to us can be dangerous."

there was something in the way he said that that seemed half-serious, but before you could ask what he meant, sirius was already pulling remus away.

it was late afternoon, and the castle corridors were bathed in warm light filtering through the stained glass windows. james potter was alone, something rare. he had left the quidditch practice early, claiming he needed to fetch a book from the library.

as he walked down the corridor, something caught his attention. a first-year student was kneeling on the floor, desperately trying to gather a handful of scattered papers.

she seemed frustrated, almost crying, but no one around seemed to notice her struggle.

then he saw you.

you were coming down the stairs and stopped immediately upon seeing the scene. james stood where he was, curious, watching.

you approached the girl carefully, without haste, and knelt beside her.

"hey, need help?" you asked, your voice soft and gentle.

the girl looked up, hesitant, but eventually nodded.

as you gathered the papers, you organized them carefully, murmuring words of comfort.

"don't say that, everyone makes mistakes sometimes," you said when she apologized.

james stood still, his heart beating faster than he expected. there was something different about you. something he couldn't ignore.

and, for the first time in years, lily evans was not the only person on his mind.

in the days that followed, james couldn't get the scene out of his head—you helping that first-year student as if it were the most natural thing in the world. he didn't know why, but there was something about that gesture that seemed to encapsulate everything he had begun to notice about you.

in transfiguration class, he saw how you bit the tip of your quill while listening attentively to professor mcgonagall's explanations. during breaks, he noticed how you always made sure to divide your time equally among friends, ensuring no one felt left out.

james didn't know how he had never noticed these things before. or maybe he did. but had been so focused on lily for so long that he had never allowed himself to look around.

now, he was looking.

it was a particularly cold night, and you were leaving the library with lily. the hours had slipped by as you reviewed for the upcoming charms exam, and now the corridors were almost deserted.

"I thought my fingers would fall off after writing so much." you said, shrinking against the cold wind that passed through the slightly open windows.

lily smiled, adjusting her scarf around her neck. "don't complain, at least you know you'll ace the exam."

before you could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, and an unmistakable voice caught your attention.

"evans! thought I'd find you here."

it was james. he had that mischievous smile on his face but seemed less intense than usual. lily sighed, but he ignored her and looked at you.

"hey, hufflepuff," he said, his eyes shining for a moment before turning back to lily. "I need to talk to you about the prefect meeting."

lily hesitated but eventually nodded. "okay, but make it quick, potter."

as they moved away to talk, you leaned against the wall, watching the torches flicker in the darkness of the corridor. a few minutes later, james returned alone, his face slightly flushed from the cold.

"she's always like that with you?" you asked, without thinking.

james chuckled, a low and genuine sound. "always. but I guess I've gotten used to it."

"you're persistent, that's for sure."

he raised an eyebrow, surprised by the comment. "is that good or bad?"

you shrugged, a small smile on your lips. "depends on who's on the other side."

james fell silent for a moment, just watching you. it was as if he was trying to figure something out, as if, for the first time, he didn't quite know what to say.

"you know, you're different," he said finally, his tone softer than usual.

you frowned, confused. "different how?"

"I don't know. just... different. good different."

before you could say anything, lily called for you from the other end of the corridor. you gave james one last look before joining her, leaving him standing there, alone.

that night, as you tried to sleep, the conversation with james wouldn't leave your mind. there was something in the way he spoke to you, something that felt... different.

meanwhile, james was sitting in front of the fireplace in the gryffindor common room, lost in thought. sirius tossed a crumpled piece of parchment into the air, clearly bored.

"what's with you today?" sirius asked, tossing the parchment in james's direction.

"just thinking."

"about who?" remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

james hesitated for a moment before answering. "y/n."

the silence that followed was brief but loaded.

"y/n?" sirius repeated, surprised. "no offense, she's great, beautiful too, but... she's not evans."

james sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. and that's what's confusing me."

remus smiled but didn't say anything, leaving james lost in his own thoughts.

in the following week, james began to approach you more, subtly but noticeably. he asked questions about classes, helped you carry your books when he saw you were overloaded, and even started showing up in the library more often.

at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but soon you realized it wasn't. and, to your surprise, you didn't mind.

one afternoon, as you walked together through the gardens, james looked at you with a smile that seemed to carry more meaning than he was willing to admit.

"you know... these days, you’ve been the brightest moment for me without even realizing it." he said, straightforwardly, a faint flush of color warmed his cheeks.

you stopped, surprised, "what?"

"I'm serious. I... I don't know how to explain it, but... you make things seem easier."

there was something in his sincerity that made your heart beat faster.

"james... I..." you began, but he interrupted you, gently holding your hand.

"I know we have our differences, but... how about we go out tomorrow night? just the two of us. we can have dinner in hogsmeade, maybe. what do you think?"

you looked at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. you never imagined that james potter, the mischievous and sweet boy, would make such an intimate invitation, specially to you.

"I'd love to," you replied, smiling shyly.

he smiled back, squeezing your hand.

"then it's a date. tomorrow night, at seven o'clock, at the main entrance. don't be late."

you laughed, shaking your head.

"I'm not the one who's late here, potter."

"true," he agreed, "but I'll wait for you anyway. I always will."

and so, with a smile on your lips and your heart racing, you said goodbye to him, eager for what the next night would bring.

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post. At this point it looks like there’ll be 4 parts in total :)

Robin is basically seething with rage when she walks into Thatcher Tire before the start of her own shift at Family Video. After a month of Steve being happier than she had ever seen him before, he showed up on her doorstep on the verge of tears last night. She had to listen to him talk about Eddie until well after midnight. About Eddie, who had apparently only been “fucking around” with him for the past month, while Steve was falling head-over-heels for him.

Robin liked Eddie, of course she did. But one part of her had not even been surprised about this turn of events. It was the part of her that had never fully trusted Eddie – the part she had tried her very best to shut up because she didn't want to believe in the possibility of it being right.

It was the part of her that had been warning her that something about Eddie and Steve seemed off right from the beginning: how Steve was falling, with complete faith and no safety net, while Eddie was... Well, it wasn't like he was actively mean or cruel in any way. It wasn't like he seemed to be using Steve or like he wasn't really into him. None of that. But there had always been this something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Now she finally knows what it was.

She has dozens of questions ready to fire at him. Did he ever even notice how fragile Steve really is, underneath those leftover pieces from his high school days? How lonely he is? Does he even know how badly that boy wants to be loved? Does he know how much it broke Robin's heart when she couldn't give that love to Steve in the way he wanted her to? Will it break Eddie's heart, too, when he realizes what he has done to Steve? Or did he already know, all this time? Has he just been playing some cruel game for a whole fucking month?

So she barges into the garage and marches purposefully towards the backroom with her battle baret all dusted off for the occasion, ready to tell Eddie exactly what she thinks of him. But she stops in her tracks when she hears Eddie's voice emerge from the room, sounding like he's already caught up in some kind of heated conversation himself.

'Right?! I mean, can you believe this shit?! He just shows up with goddamn flowers like we're – like we're actually together or some shit!'

It's silent for a while and it takes Robin a few seconds to realize that he must be on the phone.

'He's hot, okay?' Eddie continues, in a voice that could best be described as distressed. 'And the kids like him, he's cute, there was no reason not to say yes when he asked me out. But it was never supposed to – we were just supposed to have some fun and leave it at that.' He actually sounds like he's on the verge of tears by now.

'Because this was never the fucking plan!' he answers a question asked from the other end of the line. 'If he's gonna continue like this, all sweet and caring and giving me flowers and shit... I'm gonna fall in love with him, Jeff, I'm serious! I don't even know why he's doing this – he probably just wants to know that he can, you know. Give his ego a little boost and laugh at me when he finds out it's actually working. It's cruel, it's really fucking cruel.'

There's another beat of silence.

'You're a lifesaver,' Eddie then says. 'And bring that one ice cream, you know the one, with the pecan and the – exactly! And maybe some of your mom's chocolate pie if she still has – thank you, my hero. Oh, and don't forget to say hi to your mom from me.'

While Eddie hangs the phone back on the hook, Robin takes her final step around the corner.

'Is that really what you think of him?'

Eddie jumps up when he sees Robin standing in the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest and one of her most scathing looks on her face.

'What the hell, Buck? Were you eavesdropping on my phone call?'

'You really think he's the cruel one?' she repeats, ignoring his indignant question. 'Then why did he show up at my door yesterday night looking like a heap of misery and telling me how his boyfriend turned out to only have been his hookup all this time?'

'Look, Buckley, I – wait, what?'

'What?'

'His what now?'

And the utterly confused look on his face tells her more than enough. He didn't know, she realizes. He truly didn't know what Steve felt for him.

'You fucking dummy!'

'I – what did you just call me?'

'A dummy.' Okay, it's not exactly the best insult she ever came up with, but she has no choice but to double down on it now.

'No, earlier, you – you said – his boyfriend,' Eddie stutters out.

Robin merely shoots him an unimpressed glance.

'Steve thought we were boyfriends?!' he exclaims in a shrill voice. He looks at her like she just dropped some news about Vecna returning to Hawkins.

'Do you really have to look that disgusted about it?'

'No, I wasn't – Are you playing some kind of twisted prank on me here?'

'Do I look like this is a prank?'

He narrows his eyes at her. 'But... Why the hell would he want us to be boyfriends?'

'Because he liked you, you idiot!' she yells at him. 'Because he asked you out and you said yes and you were nice to him! Because he basically had those obnoxious little pink hearts floating around his head whenever you were together! Because you treated him with more kindness and respect than any girl he's ever dated before – well, until he wanted to celebrate your anniversary and you basically told him to fuck off when he wanted to take care of you while you were sick! Which you clearly aren't, by the way!'

'Don't be ridiculous here,' Eddie shoots back at her. 'Why would he ever want me to be his boyfriend?'

'Because – are you even listening to me?! Because he's in love with you!'

'Come on, Robin, you can't actually believe that,' he says, a tensed chuckle coloring the end of the sentence. 'He's Steve Harrington.' And he says that name in such a snide tone that it makes Robin flinch on her best friend's behalf.

'I mean, sure, he's fallen from his throne and all that,' he continues, 'but no one really changes that much. He was a dick! Don't you remember how he treated your band friends? Don't you remember how completely invisible you were to him? Don't you remember the names he called people like us? All the people he'd knock down to lift himself up?'

She doesn't avert her gaze, but only lifts her chin.

'You don't need to remind me,' she tells Eddie, trying her very best to sound as calm as possible. 'I remember. But I also remember how he snuck the most nerdy kids I ever met into the back of our ice cream store to let them watch movies for free. And I remember how he stuffed them with free ice cream when nobody was watching. I remember how he spent hours giving Dustin advice about his girlfriend – the advice was terrible, frankly, but that's not the point, it was well-meant.' No, stop, don't get distracted, she sternly tells herself, steering back to the topic at hand.

'I remember how he did everything in his power to get Dustin and Erica to safety when we all got caught in a goddamn nightmare. I remember how he almost died taking a bunch of punches for me.' She takes a quick breath before she goes on. 'I remember how he broke down in my arms because he felt so guilty about the person he used to be, the people he hurt when he was this asshole teenage boy doing asshole teenage boy shit. I remember how dumb he felt when he didn't get into any colleges again, I remember how scared he was when he figured out he liked boys, I remember how you were the one who made him finally feel some self-worth again when you guys started dating... And you know what else I remember? How you broke his heart yesterday. So you don't have to tell me what a dick he is, Eddie Munson. If you need to point fingers and call someone a dick so bad, don't you dare come for Steve. You better look in the mirror for that.'

Pt3 is here!

(Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)

The amount of people asking to be tagged has frankly been unreal, woah! It honestly means so fucking much to me that you care enough about this silly lil story to ask for a tag 🥹 Seriously, thank you so much, and I hope you liked this part / the way the story is unfolding. I’d love to hear what y’all think <3

Taglist: @pluto-pepsi @i-less-than-three-you @estrellami-1 @epiclazershark @angelscoops @missmagillicuddy @fxndom-hoe @chaoticvictorianspirit @itsali-taken @merricatty @its-a-me-a-morgan @lilacrobin @adaydreamaway08 @starman-jpg @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @littlemsterious @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @lostonceandneverfound @a-gae-af-racoon @heartstarstar-blog @ignoretenderness @thehorrorandme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @vampireinthesun @ntwolf69 @thatonebadideapanda @jackiemonroe5512 @tinynebula @obliosworld @sleepy-time @daydreaming-mood @aizawa-emma @leethegay @irregular-child @just-a-tiny-void @evix-syne666

[millersfinest]

the thing in your chest that beats ² | e.w

santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader

wc: 4.5k

mini-series: california | oregon (you’re here) | idaho | wyoming

blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…

cw: angry!r, slow-burn romance, eventual smut, proximity trope, both reader and ellie on a path of redemption, afab body parts mentioned, vulgar language, reader being complicated, mentions of attraction, inner guilt, use of ‘y/n’ and ‘woman’.

note: honestly i just can’t wait for them to kiss (spoiler: not this chapter). but they’re learning to trust each other. just know in the idaho ch we’re gonna be UP! please, enjoy this for now!! (also: i hope the lot of you voted for the presidential election. these are very very important times #harriswaltz2024)

Oregon

Several days and nights were spent on a boat, cruising up the coast of California. It was one of those livable boats, where you could hide from the sun in a room with stable furniture to eat on, and a bed to sleep on. You spent a lot of your time inside the hatch, analyzing a map that Ellie had labeled with a marker. Hoping that you’d maintain your luck enough to actually see Wyoming for yourself.

Ellie had confessed that she came from Jackson, but she still hadn’t told you the why. Instead of asking about it, you refrained, in turn, asking about the settlement. Were the people kind? Did they have horses? Because you heard they had horses.

Those were the questions she could answer easily, with little to no hesitation. Until your questioning began to irritate her—which, in turn, irritated you.

The two of you bickered over the smallest of things in those days on the water. It could’ve been the heat, or the rationed food, or even your similar personalities. You couldn’t help but clash every chance you got. By the time the two of you drifted onto the coastline of Oregon, the conversations had diminished—because of your stubborn attitudes.

Leaving behind the boat was a drag, but there’s wasn’t much of a choice. The rest of the journey toward Wyoming was going to be on foot. Over cracked pavements and between dewey trees. If only the trip could be simplified by the use of a boat—it would be less extraneous.

The weather had gotten significantly cooler the more north you traveled. The mornings were the coolest, and the days were chilled with a gentle breeze. It would rain eighty percent of the time, which made it harder for you and Ellie to continue the trek. But both of you were resilient.

Somewhere between Salem and Portland, you found yourselves looking for a place to stay for the night. You had run across some nefarious people when you first arrived at the coast; and you’ve been recovering ever since. Trying to collect as many things as possible on the road to make up for the lost ammo and supplies. Which is what led to you looking for a place to crash in, basically, pitch black darkness. Navigating the dewey wood with nothing but the lights attached to your bags.

Droplets of water slipped off the waxy green leaves of the trees above. Splashing onto you—and it was shocking every time. The climate sent a gentle chill up your spine, so the water was even colder. Ellie walked ahead of you, mumbling under her breath from the lack of shelter. Her agitation was ruminating off her skin like a furnace. “We should’ve never gone this way— there’s nothing out here!”

Her agitation was obviously laced with panic. Ellie was exhausted from all the traveling and worries about conflict. “We entered a campsite a few miles back. At the very least there should be a cabin out here.” You surmised, squinting your eyes trying to defy the darkness. The auburn-haired woman scoffed under her breath, adjusting the hood of her raincoat. “If you wanna take a break, just say that.” You reached for her wrist, pulling gently. “It’s been a long day…”

“Absolutely not. We need a place to sleep tonight— with a roof.” Ellie pulled her arm away, placing her hands onto her hips. Her head hung low, clearly fatigued.

“How about this: you park it by this tree for a little bit, while I walk around to see if I can find somethin’ for us.” You offer, shrugging your shoulders, casually. The both of you were exhausted, but it seemed that Ellie was suffering a bit more than you were. Was that not that point of a team? To tap in someone else when you need it. Plus, you really felt that there was a cabin nearby. There had to be one. Most campsites had cabins that hikers and campers would go to before they began their adventures. For supplies or even important notices about wild animals.

Or, maybe, you watched too much tv at the firefly base.

She shook her head. “No chance. Separating in the dark doesn’t sound like a good idea to me. What? So, you can get lost and give us another problem to deal with?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you press your lips into an irritated line. “Are you seriously insulting my intelligence, right now?” You raised an eyebrow, glaring at the woman in front of you. “I was a firefly for six years of my life—“

“Oh, my God! The whole world knows that you were a fucking firefly, y/n. No need for the reminder.”

Ellie began to walk in another direction, sternly. You scoffed, following after her like confused duckling—which was an embarrassing thought. “You’re so insufferable. All I was trying to do was help you out— because to be honest, you’re not handling this well.” You quip, walking by her side with your hands shoved into your pockets.

She scoffed. “How could I handle this well? Please, tell me.” Stopping in her tracks, she glares at you. Olive irises blown out from the darkness around her, boring into your aggressive frame.

Taking a step closer to her, the corners of your lips curled, mischievously. “You could start by taking a fucking break and letting me take the lead.” There was something that differed between you and Ellie’s versions of frustration and anger. She took it up a level, while you brought it down. It could fool an idiot into thinking you weren’t mad at all, when really you were fuming. The pace of your voice was slow, almost menacing. True fire remained behind your eyes, in your posture—the way your lip twitched as you spoke.

“I’m not some damsel in distress you pull everywhere then blame when shit goes wrong.” You added, taking in her battered features. The scar in her eyebrow and her top lip. The freckles under her peeling skin from the days aboard. “I have a great sense of direction; I’ll have you know.” As you spoke, she examined your features the same way you did. “Stop arguing with me, sit your ass down, drink some water— and i’ll be back in twenty minutes tops!”

Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth, averting her eyes from you. She was too stubborn to admit her own exhaustion to you—she’d rather be in control of the situation than someone she barely knew. Someone, who at the start of this trip, was, in fact, a damsel in distress. Your body had healed in the days since departing Santa Barbara. Not completely, but in progress. You were walking better, even though you still had a bit of a limp.

Her focus on you made it easy to forget her own ailments. The missing fingers on her left hand, the wound on her abdomen. They were healing, surprisingly. However, her attention still remained on your well-being.

She sighed, itching her nose with her index finger. “Fine. Whatever.” Ellie shrugged her backpack off, leaning against the tree. “Just come back in one piece, yeah?” Somehow, she managed to sound insulting with her hidden words of weariness.

You snickered, narrowing your eyes. “Is that worry I’m sensing or…?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

With that, you backed toward the path, chuckling under your breath. Adjusting the hood over your head, you focused to begin looking for the cabin that you just knew was close by. Feet crunching over dead leaves and sticks that were imbedded in the mud.

The light attached to the strap of your bag began to flicker as you pushed between the trees. “Come on…” You hit the light to stabilize it. “Now is not the time.”

When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light.

Your past affiliations haunted you like a ghost. Somehow, you always found yourself looking for that light. Perhaps, in this case, it’s Jackson, Wyoming—a place far from what you know. That was more of a long-term goal, though. The light you were currently looking for was a building made of wood, preferably insulated.

Ahead of you, you weren’t sure if you were seeing things, but what you were hoping for was coming into view. The brightness of the moon illuminating the starry sky outlined the top of the cabin, exposing its silhouette. In excitement, you rushed toward the building, peaking through the foggy windows. From what you could see, there was nothing inside but old furniture. Thankfully, no infected. You were beat; the last thing you wanted to do was fight that damn virus.

As you peeked through every window you could find, jiggling door handles to try and find a way in, you realized it was a home. Not some hiking administration building you surmised would be around the trail. Spending enough time circling the cabin, you pick up a rock from the ground to crack a window. You were getting in that house one way or another.

The rectangular shape was rather high for your reach. Huffing, you dug your fingers into the divots of the logs. It wasn’t the best grip, but it was enough to get you into that window. After throwing your body through the hole, you landed on the ground with a thud. A shallow pain throbbed in your thigh—the one that Ellie had stitched for you back in Santa Barbara. Shutting your eyes, you took in a breath from the slight pain. You weren’t one hundred percent just yet.

Exhaling, you stood tall on your feet to get a look at the interior. A long plaid couch was placed in front of what used to be a fireplace. Burned logs was still lying in the pit, but they burned to a crisp. You were certain that if you touched them, they would fall apart under the weight of your hand. The dirt shapes on the walls symbolized that picture use to fill this space—the cabin was drained of life.

It’s only source of existence was the fact that you were standing in it.

Before leaving to retrieve Ellie, you jogged up the steep stairs of the cabin. To check the upstairs rooms for any infected or people. You must’ve been one lucky woman, because there was nothing but dust occupying those rooms. Quickly, you went through the front door to grab your partner.

Crunching on leaves and sticks, you startled her. Ellie was spotted sat in front of the tree, leaning her back with her eyes closed—which was the least smart thing to do, but she was tired. The sound of your boots crushing the elements of the forest jolted her from her light sleep. She gripped her switchblade in a fist, looking at you with determination. “Fuck,” She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. “I thought you were someone else…”

“Nope. Just me.” You breathed, watching her as she stood to her feet. “There’s a cabin about ten minutes from this spot.” Crossing your arms, a slight smile rested on your lips. A smile screaming I-told-you-so.

Ellie slung her bag around her shoulders, dusting off her jeans; doing everything to ignore your antics. “Are we just gonna stand here, or are you gonna show me where it’s at?”

Sucking your teeth, you pivoted, rolling your eyes. She was such a sore loser. It felt good to be right, and for her to be wrong. You didn’t get lost like she thought—instead, you carried out exactly what you planned: finding shelter for the night.

The two of you approached the cabin, Ellie releasing a sigh of relief. Hallow sounds of your shoes walking up the steps of the wooden porch sounded. You opened the door, allowing her to walk through. Staring her down with same smile you had a few minutes ago. “Nice place, huh?” You asked, shutting the door behind you, turning the lock.

She meandered inside, surveying the interior. Her fingers slide along the dusty bannister above the fireplace, pursing her lips. “Not bad…” Ellie lifted an eyebrow, peering over her shoulder at you. Lifting her finger, she eyed the dust that stuck to her skin.

“Told you there was a cabin around here somewhere.”

“I knew you were gonna say that.” Ellie chuckled, dryly. Taking moderate steps toward the kitchen. Every time you stopped, she insisted that inventory was taken of all of your supplies. She achingly tugged her backpack off, sighing. You followed behind her, leaning your arms against the counter—watching her tired movements.

“Why are you looking at me?” She dropped her hands onto the counter, with that familiar irritated glint in her eyes.

You purse your lips. “You know I could do this, right?” Shrugging off your bag, you swing it onto the counter. There was a slight sway to Ellie—the only reason being her exhaustion. “We’ve done this a number of times; you can go rest up. There are three bedrooms upstairs— take your pick.”

Ellie scoffed, continuing the work in front of her. Counting under her breath. You grit your jaw, glaring at her. She was truly insufferable—moments like these really highlighted that. Her stubbornness and pride amounted about the same to yours; causing you to wonder… Were you just as bad? You pity the friends you had in your youth if that was the case. Releasing a meditative breath, you placed a hand over hers. “Seriously, Ellie, I got it. Go get some sleep.”

She looks at you through her eyelashes, allowing your skin to remain on hers. “Aren’t you tired, too?”

“Yeah, but not as much as you… I could stand to be up for a little while longer. You on the other hand…”

She pulled her hand from under yours, pushing off her wet hood. Her auburn strands were damp, sticking to her freckled skin. “All right. Make sure to write down the things we don’t have that we need.”

“I know.”

“And mark the items that we’re running low on.”

“Again, I know.” You motion with her hand to run along with amused eyes. Waiting to begin, you watch as she hesitantly walks toward the steep wooden stairs around the corner.

It was like pulling teeth for Ellie to willingly hand over responsibility to you. In her mind, she was still doing you a favor—she was working for you. But being that she was extremely tired, her inhibitions loosened. The touch of your skin to hers, surprisingly, comforted her concerns; made her sleepier. She heavily stepped up the stairs, leaning on the railing for support.

She walked into the first bedroom she saw. The light from the moon cascaded through the window that the queen-sized bed was pushed against. Shedding her damp clothing, she spread them out onto a dresser before getting into the bed. Before nodding off, she peered out the window with a burdened mind. Remembering the bulk of her actions leading up to Santa Barbara. With the added misfortune of Santa Barbara. Then… You.

The moon reflected over a sparkling pier, that was down a hill behind the cabin. The lake was completely in her view, rippling subtly from the fish beneath the surface. She cracked a smile, peering at the beautiful sight. Rolling up a pillow, she propped it up enough to let that be the final thing she sees before sleeping. Using the elements of the earth as a night cap.

She’d woken up many times throughout the night, but she was used to that habit. When the sun peaked through her window, Ellie had gotten as much sleep as she could have. The smell of cooked fish had wafted into her nostrils, pulling her from the old mattress. With a groan, she swung her legs over, rubbing her eyes.

In a blur, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a figure walking toward the pier. Blinking, she leaned on the pillows against the window, watching as the figure began to remove their clothes—it was you. Ellie watched as you dropped your items, carelessly, before jumping into the water. For the first time in awhile, her mind went blank. Completely empty.

Well… Not that empty.

She checked the clothes she had on from the night before, and for some reason, they still were damp. Enough moisture resided in her jeans that she didn’t feel comfortable putting them back on. Sighing, she began searching through the drawers for anything she could put on in the meantime.

Finding a pair of plaid pajama pants, she slid those on, throwing her holed band t-shirt over her sports bra. “What time is it?” She patted her jeans for the watch she carried with her. Cursing under her breath, she realized it was left in her backpack.

Quickly, Ellie found herself navigating to the first floor. Her eyes widened at the organized sight of all of your supplies. You had grouped similar items together and left a piece of paper with the amounts in each group. At the bottom of the page, you had written a list of the items you needed more of. Ellie’s watch was sitting on the end of the counter, properly placed. “You have outdone yourself…” She muttered, picking up the paper you scribbled on.

When she flipped it over, the subtle grin her lips faded. Seeing the sorrowful words written on the page. Since leaving Santa Barbara, she noticed you pulling out this letter a lot. The one you fetched from under that infected woman. You had never gone into what this letter or note meant to you—probably, because she never asked. That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious about it, though. Ellie never would’ve expected that you’d write on it over something as silly as taking inventory.

There were so many things she didn’t understand about you.

The aroma of fish filled her nostrils again, leading her to slab of rock placed on the counter. A coverage of cloth was placed over the fish to ward off flies. She peeked under it, seeing a perfectly scaled and grilled fish. Hunger got the best of her, and she began to eat the fish with her hands. Humming at the satisfaction of filling her stomach.

After, she grabbed the cracked watch to check the time. It was ten in the morning, the both of you should’ve been back on the road.

Pressing her lips into a line, she walked out the back door to alert you. Her fingers fiddling with the plaid cotton on her legs.

The air was fairly cool, but the sun warmed you up. Basking in the lake was like splashing your face with cold water in the morning—it was a wake-up call. Something that you needed after the night you had. In the room across from Ellie’s, the bed was too firm, and the sheets were too prickly. Your mind kept you up with the image of Honey’s infected body. And, whenever you did shut your eyes, you were back on those pillars again.

You had no choice but to get up early and occupy yourself. So, you fished for a little while, then cooked what you caught—for yourself and the sleeping woman upstairs. After that, you thought you could use a bath. And there was nothing more satisfying than cool lake water—nature’s finest.

You allowed the water to engulf you, embracing your body like a chilled hug. Breaking the surface, you swam comfortable laps around the lake. As you lazily backstroked, you noticed Ellie walking down the steps that led to the dock.

Her auburn hair was spiked all across her head—she must’ve slept well. You chuckled, swimming up the edge of the dock. Placing your hands against it, to pull yourself up a little. Bare shoulders glistening from the sunlight reflecting off your wet skin. “You have a bad case of bedhead, my friend.”

“What?” She immediately became self-conscious, running her hands through her hair. Shaking her head, she adjusted her features, trying to uphold her naturally irritated persona; scrunching her eyebrows and clenching her jaw. “You let me sleep too late; it’s ten. We should start packing up.” Her eyes avoided you, instead, focusing on the plants surrounding the lake. Or your pruned fingers holding onto the dock.

Looking up at her with squinted eyes, you dramatically sniffed. “Why don’t you hop in? You smell like shit.” You ignored her small jabs of blame, coating your lips with a smile. Perhaps, you’ve been spending too much time with her, but her little irritations were beginning to amuse you more than bother you. Or, from the angle that you were peering up at her, she looked really… Pretty. Bedhead and all.

“Excuse me?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows, finally meeting your eyes.

“I’m serious. Let’s resume the trip smelling better than a sewer.” You began to paddle backwards, almost forgetting about your own nakedness. “Take off your clothes… I‘ll give you privacy. Unless you’re too… Chicken.”

She hesitated, watching you swim backwards. Catching an accidental glimpse of your breasts as you turned around. It was true that she didn’t smell the greatest. Before she could formulate her thoughts properly, Ellie spoke. “Chicken? Really, y/n?” She sighed, punching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But not for long— I wanna make it to Idaho within the next two days…”

Ellie shed her clothes, dropping them close to yours. She jumped into the water, keeping her head from going under, loudly reacting to the coldness of the lake. “Shit!” She exclaimed, treading water.

You turned around, chuckling, noticing her hair still disheveled. “You’ll feel better if you dunk yourself under water.”

“Hell, no! It’s too cold.”

“This doesn’t have to be another I-told-you-so moment…”

She rolled her eyes, clenching her nostrils with her fingers, lowering herself under water. Allowing the cold, earthy, lake water to encapsulate her. The first few seconds were chilling, but her body began to adapt. It became rather comforting—easing her sore muscles and healing wounds.

The lake did the same for you, which was why you were still inside of it. Time stopped at the pier; at least it felt like it did. Existing felt normal, for once. There weren’t any violent rogue people, or hungry infected. Just you and Ellie bathing in a lake.

Ellie broke the surface, running her hands over her saturated strands. Her pale skin was flushed, from what you could only assume, was the briskness in the air and the chillness of water. However, that may not have completely been the case. “Feel better?” You ask, waving your arms under the water to keep yourself afloat.

The corners of her lips curled, subtly. You had to squint to really notice her amusement. She rolled her eyes in a way to avert her gaze. “Yeah, a little.” Ellie finally peered at you, pointing a dripping finger. “Don’t say it.”

“Say what?” A grin plastered on your lips. “I told you so?”

“Do you realize how annoying you are, or just me?”

You pursed your lips, feigning thought. “Just you, I think.”

Honestly, you’re proud of yourself. A lot of the relationship blossoming between your traveling partner and yourself had been developing under the pressure of your attitudes and circumstances. The fact that you could get her to crack a smile, even if it was faint, felt good. It was either the dock’s magic, or your own.

A beat passed while the two of you circled each other. Barely looking at the exposed skin above the water, trying to be distracted by the world around you.

Surprisingly, Ellie was the first to speak—or the first to question you. She rarely every asked you anything. “That letter you carry with you…” The woman awkwardly began. “I saw it on the counter— who wrote it?”

Her voice grabbed your attention immediately at the mention of the note. You held onto it like a totem, a piece of memorabilia from your past. Hesitating, you moved your eyes from left to right in thought. “I know that it came from Santa Barbara. From that house…”

“It’s from an old friend.” You started, lips parting slowly as you spoke. Mouth going dry at the question she asked. You’ve yet to physically get the chance to talk about Honey. From the days aboard the boat, you’ve been trying to forget what you saw. Maybe, you could convince yourself that she was off living the life she wanted—instead of spending her last days suffering under the hammer of infection. “Some girl I met at that God-forsaken resort…” You attempted to casually respond.

“She got infected?”

“Yeah…” You nodded with avoidance, shutting your eyes and moving your head with a cadence of I-don’t-wanna-talk-about-it.

Ellie pursed her lips, nodding. “Why’d you write on the letter? I don’t know… It looks like it means a lot to you— I don’t understand why you would write on it?” She spoke, thoughtfully, as if she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. That was certainly the first time.

You shrug, wanting to hide somewhere, even though there was nowhere to do so. “I just want to forget about it… I guess.”

“If you cared about her, why would you wanna forget about it?”

The muscles in your forehead twitched, bunching your eyebrows together. Your face burned, lips scowling. Ellie’s voice evolved from a soft curiosity, to a judgmental version of it. You sensed the difference the moment it fell from her lips. The intention of her words didn’t matter—it was what she said that bothered you. Did she think you were cruel for wanting to forget about seeing her in that state?

“If I cared about her?” You started, evenly, but with warning. “I did care about her— I do care about her! If I choose not to remember her as a fucking corpse, that makes me a bad person?” Your voice raised, for the first time in awhile, rasping.

Ellie sighed, shaking her head with pleading eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

You scoff, swimming toward the dock. “Well, I’m sure that’s what you meant, right?” Pulling yourself out of the water, you don’t think twice about the exposing of your naked body. Cold air pricking at your wet skin. “I’m the asshole for wanting to remember Honey alive rather than dead…” You wrapped the towel you brought with you around your body, balling your clothes into your arms.

Lamely, Ellie called for you from her place in the water as you left her behind. Before you covered up, she eyed the scars and bruises on your body—maps of what your vessel has been through. Perhaps, she should have entered the conversation with more caution.

Watching you stalk back into the cabin, wiping at your eyes felt like a punishment. A worse punishment than the fact that she didn’t have a towel to dry off with.

“Nice work, Ellie.”

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[forest-hashira]

this absolutely would not leave me alone, in reference to this post. @fushigurro thank u for supporting/enabling me. divider by cafekitsune. this is omegaverse, mentions of heat cycles/sex but nothing explicit. minors dni.

it had been a few days since your synced heat with satoru had ended, and though it hadn't actually lasted longer than normal, it had felt like it, neither of you able to get the kind of relief you really needed. you'd given yourselves a day to sober up and recover, and then you'd had a much dreaded conversation.

you'd been everything to each other since you'd gotten together straight out of school. in all that time, you'd never needed anyone else for anything, even able to get each other through your heats with a little help from some toys. but this had been a brutal wake up call, a reminder that there were some things you'd never be able to do for each other, no matter how hard you tried.

it was unsettling to realize, though, and the following realization that you would have to find someone else to trust in your most vulnerable moments was downright scary. a new partner couldn't be just anyone, especially not if they were going to help both of you when you needed it. in fact, there was only one person either of you could imagine trusting with that.

and so you set up a coffee date.

"you feelin' okay, baby?" satoru's gentle voice pulled you from your mental spiral, and you offered him a weak smile.

"what makes you ask?" you set your drink down on the table, unable to stomach anything because of your anxiety.

"your leg has been bouncing nonstop since we sat down." he peered at you over the tops of his sunglasses, leaning in to rest his forehead against your temple. "it's all gonna be fine, you know that, right?"

"unless he hates us for asking this of him and decides he never wants to speak to us again." you weren't expecting the laugh your words drew from him, and you pinched his side harshly. "don't laugh at me! it's not impossible..."

you could practically feel him roll his eyes at you. "he's not gonna hate us," he soothed, the faintest hint of a purr rumbling beneath his words, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. "i doubt he'll say no, either. he's had a thing for you for years."

"he has not!" you turned and looked up at him, wide-eyed.

satoru cocked his head slightly, seeming genuinely surprised. "he has too! he told me once when we were drunk, before we all graduated and you and i got together. you didn't know?"

"of course i didn't know! he never said anything to me. i knew he was in love with you, though."

it was satoru's turn to look shocked. "you're lying to me."

"i am not! we all saw the way he looked at you. it was obvious."

your boyfriend seemed to pale at your words, as impossible as it was. "for how long?"

"from the very first day i met you guys. he still looks at you like that, y'know."

"who looks at satoru like what?"

suguru's voice startled both of you, and you looked up at him with burning faces. the alpha's brows pinched with concern as he sat across the table from the two of you. satoru pushed a black coffee towards him, but it went untouched as he spoke again.

"are you guys okay? you said you needed to ask me something important. is something wrong?"

you and satoru exchanged a look, your omega offering you an encouraging nod.

"sort of," you sighed after a moment. "we, uh. well. our heats synced last week, and it sucked. like it was really bad."

suguru nodded, worry still painted across his features. "even with each other and..." he trailed off, glancing around as if remembering you were in a public place, and that it was probably not a great idea to talk openly about sex toys.

"yeah, even with that," you confirmed. "it was really, really miserable, and we really don't want to be caught off guard if our cycles ever sync like that again. which is why we asked you here."

now he really looked confused. "i don't think i understand."

"we need an alpha," satoru replied, his blunt nature a true blessing in that moment. "and you're the only one we trust to help us – to take care of us."

there was a beat of silence, then another. your heart began to pound, and you felt a bit sick all of a sudden. because this was it, wasn't it? your best friend outside of your partner was about to tell you both that you were disgusting simply for asking, and that he never wanted to hear from you ever again. he was—

"oh, uh... really?" there was no mistaking the flustered look on your friend's face, and that surprised you; he was usually so confident. "yeah, of course. i'm honored you trust me like that. anything you need, just let me know. i'll be there for you."

the relief that washed over you was so intense it nearly made you dizzy, and you were certain you would've collapsed if you weren't already sitting down. "you don't wanna take some time to think about it?"

he shook his head. "don't need to. if it means helping you guys, the answer's always going to be yes."

"whipped for us already, huh?" satoru teased, attempting to maintain his composure despite his face being the prettiest shade of pink.

the smile that tugged at suguru's lips was affectionate, his gaze warm as he took in the two of you across from him. "yeah," he agreed softly. "something like that."

[ginxyy]

Backstage Encounters

Falling for an idol over backstage encounters is so cringe but here we are

MISSING JEONGHAN HOURS

It was a sweltering summer night in Seoul, the kind that made everything seem more vibrant than it really was. Lights bounced off every surface, creating a dazzling array of colors that swirled like confetti around the bustling buildings. I was merely a cog in the grand machine of the entertainment industry, working as a personal assistant for a few idols. My days were filled with schedules, rehearsals, and, occasionally, a touch of romance that lingered like the artificial perfume in the air.

Among the many faces that populated my chaotic world, Jeonghan stood out from the very first moment I saw him. With his cascades of golden hair that seemed to reflect the neon lights, and a smile that could melt ice, he was an idol in the truest sense. I would catch sight of him at various shows, his presence magnetic, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

He was charming, of course; that was part of his allure. Those moments when we shared friendly hellos were fleeting, but they held a softness that seemed to linger long after he had turned away.

At first, our interactions were polite casual exchanges shrouded in the whirlwind of performances and the buzzing energy of fans. “Hey, how are you?” he would ask, his head tilted ever so slightly, his smile like a secret waiting to be shared. My responses were the usual rehearsed niceties, but deep down, my heart would flutter like the wings of a captured butterfly. I knew I was more than just a personal assistant in those moments; I was a curious spectator watching a love story unfold.

Our conversations slowly began to grow, evolving from polite small talk into actual exchanges of thoughts and feelings. We shared laughs over absurd backstage moments, and I learned about his passions beyond music, the places he longed to visit, and the little things that simply made life beautiful for him. I found myself enchanted, fiercely drawn to the depth behind those glimmering eyes. The chemistry was undeniable; little proving grounds where we danced around our mutual attraction, verbal sparring that felt like a prelude to something much deeper.

The flirting began uncharacteristically an odd comment here, a lingering look there. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, bold yet gentle, igniting a heat that coursed through my veins. Jeonghan had a way of making the ordinary feel extraordinary, and every quirk in his smile turned a simple hello into an electrifying moment that sent shivers through me.

It was during one particularly lustrous evening after a music show that the world coalesced into a dazzling blur of emotions. The green room was alive with laughter and chatter, a symphony of voices echoing off the walls muddled with the remnants of excitement from the stage. I was busy tidying up, ensuring everything was in order when I felt his presence behind me. It was as if time slowed down, the air thickening with unspoken words.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and laced with an oddly intimate timbre that made my heart race. I turned to face him, his frame framed by the soft glow of backstage lights. The laughter and noise around us faded into the background, leaving only the two of us in this charged bubble.

“Hey,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, knowing all too well the potential tremor that lay beneath such a simple word. Our eyes locked, the kind of anchored connection that made the world spin away until we were left with nothing but the unspoken tension hanging in the air.

“Can I steal you for a minute?” He stepped closer, the spaces between us evaporating. My breath caught, a flutter in my chest resonating wildly. His smile was both inviting and mischievous, a silent promise echoing between us. I nodded, unable to trust my voice now, as he guided me toward a quieter corner of the room.

The moment the door to the green room sprang shut behind us, reality transformed. The noise of the world faded, leaving just the two of us in a cocoon of intimate silence. In that small space, something shifted, like the electricity before a storm. The casual banter we’d shared morphed into something decidedly more heated, and I could feel the blush creeping into my cheeks, warmth flooding through me. His gaze danced across my face, searching, teasing, asking questions that words failed to convey.

“This is where the magic happens, isn’t it?” he said, his eyes shimmering with laughter as he gestured around me. I chuckled softly, the laughter spilling from my lips like a wave breaking on the shore. “I guess so,” I breathed, the proximity of our bodies igniting something in the air that made every nerve in my body sing.

And then, almost as if the universe had conspired to bring us to this moment, he stepped closer. The air thickened, pulsing with anticipation. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he murmured, and before I could decipher the meaning, he closed the gap between us, his lips brushing against mine in a tender yet electrifying kiss.

It was soft at first, a cautious exploration of the uncharted territory we had danced around for so long. Any reservations melted away like snow in the sun. Mustering every ounce of bravery, I deepened the kiss, my fingers weaving into his hair. Our breaths mingled and hearts raced as if we were trying to outpace the very universe that brought us together.

Each heartbeat echoed louder than the chaos beyond the greenroom doors. This kiss was unlike anything I had ever experienced, filled with the passion we had kept at bay, an intoxication that filled my senses and made the world outside dissolve into a mere memory. It was a collision of longing and tenderness, excitement and vulnerability, echoed perfectly in our two souls colliding.

The moment stretched, time making fools of us both as neither of us seemed eager to pull away. Jeonhan’s hands found their way to my waist, firm yet gentle, pulling me closer as if trying to fold me into the very essence of him. I could taste the sweetness in the air, the heat rising, unraveling everything we had carefully crafted over the months. And in that green room, amidst the echoes of music and memories, I knew that what had started as mere hellos had blossomed into so much more.

As we finally parted, our foreheads resting against one another, I could see it in his eyes the unmistakable understanding that we had crossed a threshold, and there was no going back.

Jeonghan s forehead rested against mine, our breaths still mingling as if they shared the same rhythm. The silence that had enveloped us in those few precious moments felt like a cocoon, warm and safe. My pulse echoed in my ears, gradually slowing but still carrying the rush of what we’d just shared. The taste of him lingered—a mix of sweetness and something utterly intoxicating that was uniquely his. I felt his thumb gently trace a line along my cheek, his fingers brushing strands of hair behind my ear in a gesture so tender that it nearly unraveled me.

He let out a small, contented sigh, his eyes flickering open, dark and soft as they searched mine. “You… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low, each word carrying weight. His hand lingered on my jaw, the warmth of his skin seeping into me like a quiet fire.

I swallowed, barely finding my voice. “I thought… I thought it was just me,” I whispered, realizing just how deep those words cut. The longing, the uncertainty, the late nights replaying every moment we’d exchanged a glance or a word. And now, here we were, closer than I’d dared imagine.

His fingers traced my jawline as his lips curved into that irresistible, knowing smile, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Only you could think that,” he teased, his voice soft, affectionate. And then, his face grew more serious, his thumb caressing my cheek slowly. “But I meant it. It was always you… from that very first time I saw you backstage, trying so hard not to look at me.”

I blushed, heat flooding my cheeks. “I wasn’t trying not to look…”

“Oh, no?” His hand slid to the nape of my neck, fingers weaving through my hair as he tilted my face slightly closer. His breath feathered against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “You thought you were being so subtle,” he said softly, his words grazing the shell of my ear. “I could tell from across the room.”

He closed the remaining distance between us, his lips brushing mine once more, soft but with a hint of restraint. This time, though, there was no hesitancy in my response. I leaned into him, my hands finding their way to the cool fabric of his shirt, fingers clutching him as if to keep him from slipping away. His hands moved to my waist, holding me as though I were the only thing grounding him, the world outside forgotten.

The green room felt like it was shrinking around us, the walls pressing close, trapping the heady warmth that pulsed between us. Everything beyond this space had faded, the music and lights from the outside world a distant hum. His lips traveled along my jaw, tracing a path to my neck, his breath hot against my skin. My fingers gripped his shoulders, feeling the firmness beneath the thin layer of his shirt, the tension in his muscles mirroring my own.

Time seemed to stretch and bend, our breaths merging as we lost ourselves in each other’s closeness. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his gaze intense, eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and something even deeper, something unspoken that lingered in the space between us.

I searched his face, a silent question forming on my lips. But before I could voice it, his hand moved to cradle my face, his thumb sweeping gently across my cheek. “I don’t want this to end,” he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice catching me off guard.

My heart softened, and I found myself lost in the sincerity in his gaze. “Me neither,” I whispered, surprised by the depth of feeling those two words held.

He smiled, and something in that moment shifted. His lips met mine again, deeper this time, all traces of hesitance gone, replaced with a passion that had been simmering just below the surface, waiting for this exact moment to break free. The kiss grew urgent, a silent understanding passing between us, an unspoken promise.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. My fingers traced the outline of his shoulders, his back, feeling the strength beneath my touch, the heat radiating through him as he pressed me gently against the wall. He held me with a kind of reverence, as though I were something fragile yet fiercely precious. Every touch, every kiss felt like a confession, a revelation of the feelings we had kept guarded for so long.

Our breaths grew ragged, and he pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against mine once again. His hand moved to brush a stray hair from my face, and his eyes softened, his expression unguarded. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for this moment,” he said, his voice barely a murmur.

I could feel my heart clench, every word he spoke sinking deeper. “Me too,” I replied, and in that moment, there was nothing left to hide.

As the intensity ebbed just slightly, he took my hand, intertwining our fingers with a gentleness that belied the heat of the moment. His thumb brushed over my knuckles as he looked at me, a soft smile gracing his lips, one that made my heart stutter. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, his voice a gentle invitation.

A thrill ran through me as I nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand in mine, steady and sure. We slipped out of the green room together, each step punctuated by shared glances and quiet smiles, as though we were carrying a precious secret, a memory made in whispers and warmth.

The dim glow of the single light in the dressing room cast shadows across his face, highlighting the soft, intense look in his eyes as he stepped toward me, closing the space between us. My pulse quickened, each beat echoing in my ears as his hand lifted, his fingers grazing my cheek in a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down my spine. He tilted my face up toward him, his thumb sweeping over my cheek as his gaze held mine with an intensity that made everything around us blur.

Without a word, he leaned down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was both soft and fierce, a blend of longing and restraint that sent warmth flooding through me. My hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers tracing the muscles there, feeling the tension coiled beneath my touch. I pressed closer to him, drawn to his warmth, his presence, as if I could somehow merge my own heartbeat with his.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us, our bodies molded together as if they were meant to fit this way. I could feel the heat radiating from him, a slow, pulsing warmth that seemed to sync with my own, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. His lips moved with an intensity that matched the quickening pace of my heartbeat, a silent promise wrapped in every gentle, yet insistent, brush of his mouth against mine.

As our kiss deepened, his hands traveled down my sides, his fingers trailing along my waist, leaving a line of fire in their wake. I felt his hands settle on my hips, his grip firm yet gentle, and he pulled me even closer, our bodies pressed together in a way that felt both thrilling and grounding. His touch was a blend of passion and restraint, every move of his fingers a careful exploration, as if he wanted to memorize every curve, every line.

He broke the kiss only briefly, his mouth moving to trace a path along my jaw, leaving a trail of warmth with each kiss. My breath hitched as his lips found the hollow just beneath my ear, and he lingered there, his breath hot against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands slid up my back, fingers splaying across my shoulders, holding me to him as he continued his slow, tantalizing exploration. I let out a quiet sigh, tilting my head back as he moved to press his lips to the sensitive spot on my neck.

With each touch, each brush of his lips, my senses seemed to heighten, the room shrinking until it was just us, wrapped in each other, the air thick with unspoken need. His fingers trailed down my spine, his touch featherlight, yet igniting sparks that radiated through me, settling low and deep. My hands moved of their own accord, sliding down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine, darkened with the same longing that mirrored my own. For a moment, we simply looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us, the air thick with anticipation. He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering, his thumb tracing slow circles on my cheek.

“I don’t want to hold back anymore,” he murmured, his voice rough, yet softened by something deeper, something vulnerable. There was a rawness in his gaze that left me breathless, my heart swelling with the realization that this moment meant as much to him as it did to me.

I didn’t respond with words; instead, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his with a fervor that matched the heat simmering between us. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. His arms tightened around me, his hands moving with purpose as they traveled down my back, his touch both firm and tender, grounding and electrifying all at once.

I felt his hands slide beneath the fabric of my shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my back, and a shiver raced through me at the contact. His touch was warm, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against my skin as he pulled me even closer. Our kiss grew more heated, more urgent, a silent confession in every movement, a melding of longing and tenderness that left us both breathless.

My fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as I deepened the kiss, feeling his sharp intake of breath, the way his body responded to mine. His hands slid to my waist, lifting me slightly as he pressed me back against the wall, his body leaning into mine in a way that made every nerve in my body sing. The coolness of the wall against my back contrasted with the heat radiating from him, amplifying the intensity of the moment, heightening every sensation.

His lips left mine, traveling down my neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along my collarbone. Each touch was deliberate, a silent declaration that seemed to say, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. My hands roamed over his back, feeling the strength beneath his skin, the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch as he pulled me closer, as though he couldn’t bear to let even a breath of space exist between us.

The world outside this room, the noise, the lights, everything faded away, leaving only the two of us locked in this intimate, electrifying embrace. He lifted his head, his gaze meeting mine, his eyes softened with something deeper, something that went beyond the heat of the moment. He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my lips as he whispered, “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Those words, simple yet filled with so much meaning, sent a thrill through me, my heart pounding with a realization that left me dizzy. I tightened my grip on him, a silent answer, a promise that mirrored his own.

As our breaths slowed, the initial fervor giving way to a quieter intensity, he cradled my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gentle circles on my cheeks. His eyes searched mine, his expression softening as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and in that moment, I saw not just the idol, the image everyone adored, but the person beneath, raw and real, vulnerable and open.

We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, our foreheads pressed together, our breaths mingling in the quiet that settled around us like a warm blanket. His fingers tangled in my hair, his touch tender, reverent, as though he were afraid that if he let go, I would disappear. And as I looked into his eyes, my own heart laid bare, I knew that I was falling..falling deeper than I’d ever thought possible, into something that felt too big, too real, too beautiful to fully comprehend.

He pulled me into another kiss, this one slower, more tender, filled with an unspoken promise that sent warmth flooding through me. His hands roamed up and down my back, his touch gentle yet lingering, a constant reminder that he was here, that this moment was ours and ours alone. We lost ourselves in each other, in the gentle rhythm of our breaths, in the warmth of our embrace, in the quiet promise that bound us together.

When we finally pulled back, our foreheads still pressed together, he smiled, his eyes bright with a mixture of wonder and tenderness. He lifted a hand, his fingers brushing over my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw, as though memorizing every detail.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet awe that made my heart ache with the depth of my own feelings.

I smiled, my hand moving to rest over his, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. “So are you,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper, but the words carried everything I felt, everything I couldn’t yet say.

In that quiet, intimate moment, we held each other close, a sense of peace settling over us, grounding us in a way that felt as natural as breathing. And as I looked into his eyes, my heart swelling with a love that was both thrilling and terrifying, I knew that this was only the beginning.

[songbirdseung]

ethereal / sim jaeyun

where sim jaeyun and you are enemies that were set up by each of your friends. genre enemies to lovers warnings stuck in a room, kisses

You couldn’t remember when it started—maybe it was in freshman year when Jake Sim accidentally spilled coffee on your notes, or perhaps it was when you both ran for class president and Jake won by a single vote. Whatever the cause, one thing was clear: you and Jake couldn’t stand each other.

Your friends knew it too. Jay, Heeseung, Ryujin, and Yujin had witnessed countless arguments, side-eye glances, and sarcastic comments exchanged between you and Jake. At first, it was amusing, but as time went on, your friends began to grow tired of the constant tension.

One Saturday afternoon, after another heated exchange during a study group session, Jay finally had enough.

“Okay, this has to stop,” Jay announced, slamming his textbook shut. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but it’s getting out of hand.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Tell that to Jake. He’s the one who keeps picking fights.”

“Me?” Jake scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re the one who always has something to say about everything I do.”

Ryujin sighed, glancing between the two of you. “Seriously, guys. We’re all friends here. Can’t you just… try to get along?”

You and Jake exchanged skeptical looks but didn’t respond. The thought of being civil with him seemed impossible.

Heeseung, always the peacemaker, decided to step in. “You know, maybe what you two need is some time alone to talk things out. Without an audience.”

You frowned, suspicion creeping into your mind. “What are you suggesting?”

“Just hear me out,” Heeseung said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Maybe you two could clear the air if you had some uninterrupted time together. We could, I don’t know, lock you in a room until you work things out.”

You laughed, thinking it was a joke. “Yeah, right. Like that’s going to solve anything.”

But Jay, Heeseung, Ryujin, and Yujin exchanged knowing glances, a silent agreement forming between them.

The following weekend, your friends invited you over to Jay’s house for what they claimed was a movie night. You were hesitant at first, knowing Jake would be there, but Ryujin convinced you, saying it would be a good distraction after a stressful week.

When you arrived, everything seemed normal enough. The group was gathered in the living room, snacks were laid out, and a movie was queued up on the TV. Jake was there too, sitting on the opposite side of the room, thankfully not paying much attention to you.

“Hey, YN! Glad you could make it,” Jay greeted you with a grin. He seemed oddly excited, but you didn’t think much of it.

As the night went on, you began to relax, almost forgetting about your animosity towards Jake. That is, until Jay suddenly suggested a change of plans.

“Hey, why don’t we all play a game instead?” Jay suggested, turning off the TV.

“A game?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of game?”

Heeseung smirked. “Oh, you’ll see.”

Before you could protest, Ryujin and Yujin grabbed your arms, practically dragging you down the hallway toward one of the rooms.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to pull away, but their grips were surprisingly strong.

“Just trust us, YN,” Ryujin said with a mischievous smile. “This is for your own good.”

When they opened the door to Jake’s room, you froze. “Wait, this is—”

But it was too late. They pushed you inside, and you stumbled into the room, only to find Jake already standing there, looking just as confused as you felt.

“What’s going on?” Jake demanded, turning to Jay, who was now blocking the doorway with a satisfied grin.

“We’re giving you two some quality time together,” Jay explained, clearly enjoying himself. “We won’t let you out until you’ve had a proper conversation.”

“Are you kidding me?” you and Jake said simultaneously, glancing at each other in disbelief.

But your friends were serious. Before you could argue further, they slammed the door shut, leaving you and Jake trapped together.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you stared at the closed door, hoping this was all just a bad joke.

But when the door didn’t reopen, reality set in. You were stuck here, with Jake, and there was no way out.

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Great. Just great.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall. “This is ridiculous. They can’t seriously expect us to just… talk things out.”

“Well, we don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Jake muttered, glancing around the room. “Might as well make the best of it.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his resigned tone. “Easy for you to say. You’re the reason we’re stuck here in the first place.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face you. “Oh, so now this is my fault? You’re the one who can’t let go of a grudge.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have a grudge if you weren’t so insufferable all the time,” you shot back, feeling your temper flare.

Jake took a step closer, his frustration evident. “You think I enjoy arguing with you? It’s not like you make it easy to get along.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat. The truth was, you didn’t know why you and Jake were always at odds. It had just become a habit, a routine that neither of you could break.

For a moment, you stood there, glaring at each other in silence. Then, as if the tension had reached its breaking point, you both let out a frustrated sigh at the same time.

“This is stupid,” Jake finally said, his tone softer. “We’re both stuck here, so we might as well talk.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. “Talk about what?”

“Anything,” Jake said, his expression unreadable. “Why we hate each other so much. What started all this.”

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to have that conversation. But as you looked at Jake, you realized that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did—tired of the constant fighting, of the endless cycle of animosity.

“Fine,” you said, walking over to the bed and sitting down. “Let’s talk.”

Jake followed suit, sitting on the edge of the bed, a safe distance away from you. For a few moments, neither of you spoke, both lost in your thoughts.

Finally, Jake broke the silence. “You remember that time in freshman year? When I spilled coffee on your notes?”

You frowned, nodding. “Of course. That was the start of everything.”

Jake shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. I mean, that’s when we started arguing, but the real reason we don’t get along… I think it goes deeper than that.”

You tilted your head, curious despite yourself. “What do you mean?”

Jake hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I think… we’re too similar. We both want to be the best at everything. We’re both stubborn, competitive, and neither of us likes to admit when we’re wrong.”

You stared at him, surprised by his insight. “You really think that’s why we’ve been fighting all this time?”

Jake nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. But it doesn’t have to be this way, YN. We don’t have to be enemies.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You had never really thought about it before, but now that Jake had said it, it made sense. Maybe the reason you and Jake clashed so much was because you were too much alike.

For the first time in a long time, you let your guard down. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Jake. I’m tired of it.”

Jake looked at you, something soft and unspoken passing between you. “Me too.”

The tension between you two had shifted, no longer filled with anger but something else—something that made your heart race in a different way. You realized that, despite everything, you didn’t actually hate Jake. In fact, there was something about him that drew you in, something you hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself until now.

As you sat there in the silence of Jake’s room, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. It was as if everything had been leading up to this—every argument, every harsh word exchanged—all culminating in this strange, vulnerable space you now found yourselves in.

Jake shifted slightly closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “YN… there’s something I need to tell you.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “The truth is, I never really hated you. I just didn’t know how to deal with… how I felt.”

You blinked, taken aback. “How you felt?”

Jake nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “I think… no, I know that I’ve always liked you, YN. But I didn’t know how to handle it

You stared at Jake, your mind racing to process his words. Liked you? It seemed impossible after everything you’d been through together—the constant bickering, the endless rivalry. But as you looked into his eyes, you could see the sincerity there, the vulnerability that he’d never shown before.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake smiled faintly, a bit of nervousness in his expression. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you. I’ve been holding it in for so long, and I couldn’t keep pretending anymore.”

The room was silent, the air thick with unspoken feelings. You felt your own walls start to crumble as Jake’s confession stirred something deep within you—something you had buried under layers of animosity and denial.

“Jake,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “maybe… maybe I’ve been fighting with you for so long because I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings either.”

Jake’s eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in his gaze. “You mean…?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I think I’ve liked you too, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was easier to just… hate you, or pretend to.”

A heavy silence settled between you, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable tension that had defined your relationship for so long. Instead, it was a moment of understanding, of realizing that all the years of fighting had been a way to mask the deeper feelings you both had for each other.

Jake reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours. “So… where does that leave us?”

You looked down at your intertwined hands, feeling a warmth spread through you that you hadn’t expected. “Maybe it’s time we stop fighting and see what happens when we stop pretending.”

Jake’s smile grew, a mix of relief and happiness that made your heart flutter. “I’d like that.”

Without thinking, you leaned in closer, closing the gap between you. Jake’s breath hitched slightly as your lips hovered just inches from his, the tension in the air shifting into something electric, something that had been building between you for far too long.

Finally, as if the last barrier between you crumbled away, you closed the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. It was nothing like the heated arguments you were used to—instead, it was gentle, full of the emotions you had both kept hidden for so long.

The kiss deepened as you both let go of the years of animosity, allowing yourselves to feel the connection that had always been there, buried beneath the surface. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, but there was a new lightness in the air, a sense of something new and hopeful between you.

Jake rested his forehead against yours, his voice soft and full of affection. “I’m glad we finally stopped pretending.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that you had never associated with Jake before. “Me too.”

When the door to Jake’s room finally opened, and your friends peeked in, you were both sitting on the bed, hands still intertwined. The tension that had always accompanied your interactions was gone, replaced by a quiet sense of peace.

Jay, Heeseung, Ryujin, and Yujin exchanged knowing smiles as they took in the scene.

“Looks like our plan worked,” Ryujin said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. “You guys are the worst.”

“But you’re welcome,” Heeseung added with a wink.

Jake chuckled, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, thanks for the push, I guess.”

As your friends joined you in the room, the atmosphere was light and teasing, a stark contrast to the tension that had always surrounded you and Jake. The shift in your relationship felt natural, as if you had simply taken the first step into something that had been there all along.

Later that night, as you walked home with Jake, the two of you talked about everything and nothing—about the years you had spent arguing, about the relief of finally admitting your feelings, and about what the future might hold for you both.

When you reached your door, Jake hesitated, a shy smile playing on his lips. “So, does this mean we’re done being enemies?”

You grinned, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Definitely. I think I like being more than that.”

Jake laughed, pulling you close for a longer, sweeter kiss. “I think I like that too.”

As you said goodnight and watched Jake walk away, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. The animosity that had once defined your relationship was gone, replaced by something new and infinitely better.

And for the first time in a long time, you were excited to see what the future held for you and Jake.

[dany-is-my-queen]

A QUESTION OF LOYALTY XVI

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

Note: @nnightskiess have not forgotten, hope I don´t make you suffer before the series resumes 😣

Note 2: Thanks everybody for the patience!!! Lots of love.

"It will be okay," you heard the whisper, but the voice was unrecognizable, heightening your alertness. The fire intensified, burning your skin like never before.

You wanted to scream, use your voice to provide support, but in vain. "Y/N," you heard, but where was it coming from? "Y/N," louder now.

"Wake up," you finally managed to open your eyes; Alicent was by your side, concerned. "We need to bring down that fever," she said, trying to get up, and you snapped out of the trance.

"Is Rhaenyra okay?" you asked abruptly.

Alicent hesitated for a moment, then looked away. "Is Rhaenyra okay?" she echoed your question; cursing internally, you took her hand before she could stand. “I was worried about you, I am," she replied.

You squeezed her hand, then brought her hands to your face. Suddenly, a sensation took over your entire body. Silverwing was back. You needed fresh air to decipher the message of that nightmare.

Alicent looked at you with more confusion; you quickly got out of bed, dressed, and gave her a fleeting kiss, but it felt cold. Before she could even react, you found yourself in the dragon pit, facing a youngling who seemed unfazed by your dragon's presence. You regarded him with genuine curiosity.

"Are you new here?" you inquired sincerely. He turned to meet your gaze.

"Not entirely. My name is Addam, my lady."

"They can sense fear, so I advise against exposing yourself if you're not prepared," you advised, soothing your dragon with a gentle stroke.

He chuckled innocently, gesturing towards the cave adjacent to yours. "I haven't quite earned Seasmoke's utter trust yet, but we're making progress."

You furrowed your brow, prompting another laugh from him. "Why the surprise? Don't I have the demeanor of a dragonrider?"

You detected a hint of a familiar gaze in him, reflected in his eyes. "And your second name?"

"Once Rivers, now Velaryon," he declared firmly.

"Did you manage to tame my brother's dragon?" A touch of sadness tinted the conversation. "Whose son are you?"

"I believe it's time we speak to our father."

——————

A few days had passed since that disorienting morning, the unsettling dream, and the revelation of your "brother." You were grappling with a sense of disorientation, and encountering the girl you once held dear was becoming unbearable. Joffrey's arrival in the capital added to your uncertainty, leaving you unsure if his anger towards you would dissipate. You abandoned everyone while intending to be with everybody.

Despite Corlys's attempts to engage you in private conversation, you rebuffed him, as it reminded you too much of your mother. Did she know? If he did, did he share his secret too? It was a burden you couldn't bear to confront at the moment.

————-

Upon entering the room, only Daemon and Rhaenyra were present, apparently engaged in a heated argument.

"Your Grace, did you summon me?" you asked calmly to her, while Daemon sighed in annoyance upon noticing you.

"Here comes your whore," Daemon directed his hatred towards you, never having liked you. What a surprise.

"You will refer to her with respect, am I clear?" Rhaenyra ordered him.

"I've told her a thousand times that you're no longer interested in her, that you chose my brother's widow over her, and that she's the one who has you wrapped around her finger, that she should have forgotten about you a long time ago. You filthy traitor.”

You couldn't contain yourself and stooped to his level, simply recalling the kind of man he has always been and how he forced your sister Laena to stay and perish in a place foreign to her home. Laena deserved someone much better, just like Rhaenyra.

"Why don't you go back to Pentos and stay there for the rest of your days? Here, you'll never be more than a second son, a prince consort, and a first-rate oaf," you spat angrily. He grazed his sword with his hand, gripping it tightly, so you did the same with yours.

"I should have ripped your head off when I had the chance or pierced Dark Sister through your skull like I did with your pathetic, deviant brother. You disgust me just like he did," he confessed to the crime that haunted you for far too long since all the incidents at Driftmark, which instinctively led you to draw your sword in a flash before he or the Queen could react. He was stronger and taller than you, but you managed to bring him down to the floor, threateningly placing the blade at his throat. He just let out an insolent chuckle without attempting to defend himself.

"Oh, fret not, don't want you to be upset with my dear wife afterwards. She had nothing to do with it. We were going to let him go with his fifth-rate knight, but I figured he might do something stupid, as people of your kind often do. So I took care of it," he concluded, recounting his story with the corresponding details. You brought the sword closer to his neck, scratching it slightly.

"Go ahead, thrust it, I dare you," he began. Your body felt on fire, along with your anger and helplessness. You wanted to end him there and then, that cunt was a killer. “Oh, right, you don't have it in you. Could it be that you're reluctant because you'd rather shield Rhaenyra from glimpsing your less flattering traits? Are you afraid she won't love you the same way?"

"Y/N, please stop. I didn't know, I would have never allowed it. The plan and what we agreed upon with Laenor was to escape free of all burdens and responsibilities. If I could go back, I swear I would change it, I would change my decisions. He dithered because of you, he didn't want to leave you behind, nor Laena. I'm so sorry," she sincerely spoke with her voice filled with honesty. "You're better than this."

"But you're not better at fucking her," he murmured arrogantly. That's when you had enough, and with the hilt of Nightrider, you struck him, rendering him unconscious. You couldn't bear to hear any more poison coming from his mouth.

"Y/N… listen," Rhaenyra tried to get your attention, but you weren't interested in hearing her now. You stood up and left the room without uttering another word. Whatever she said next never reached your ears. "Don't walk away from me..”

———-

After Haelena's little one got murdered, the whole funeral ordeal, and all those revenge promises, Alicent ended up at the lake on the outskirts of King’s Landing. She was decked out in this white dress, her eyes carrying regret and fear. She knew things were about to go downhill fast; her mind was stuck on snapshots from her youth—like that time with you on Silverwing, cradling their tiny ones for the first time, holding her mom's hand exploring castles near the Hightower.

You came up, giving her a hug from behind, understanding her need for space but also getting she didn't want to be left alone, especially now. You trailed her quietly, wrapping your arms around her slim waist. The mist lifted, the water thickened. Your face found its way to the nape of her neck, planting a shy kiss; she felt the warmth of your lips, defying the chilly air.

No words were traded that time, and none were needed. Just being there for each other was what you craved at that very moment, just feeling.

———-

The early mornings persisted in tormenting you, and the same phlegm-filled scene was all that your retina perceived after witnessing the decapitation of the primary traitors to Rhaenyra, among them Otto. Your loyalty seemed to have lost its value; no one knew which side you were on, and a sense of unease pervaded your being. Doubt inundated your thoughts, and it inflicted more damage on Alicent than anyone else. It had to cease.

"Y/N…" she called out to you, finding you in the corridors. However, you chose to ignore her, as you had in the preceding days, even after her father's demise. "Will this continue in this manner? You no longer sleep in our room. What has occurred? Please, talk to me," she insisted. Nevertheless, you persisted in disregarding her. You had to act in accordance with what felt right at that moment. "We don't know where Aegon is or if he's well. My father has been beheaded, my children are distant, and Helaena scarcely leaves her chamber. I have no allies here. I feel like I'm losing you too." Her voice broke, accentuating your growing indifference, if that were even possible.

"Tell me why you're trying to conceal it if you have something to say."

You loved Alicent; there was no doubt about that. You loved her enough to spare her from this situation. Or were you merely succumbing to the same cowardice as years ago, when you sought her out solely because Rhaenyra had labeled you a whore?

"I'm sorry about your father," you murmured, still unable to articulate your thoughts.

"She did this, Y/N. She's here to seize everything, not just the throne but you as well. Will you allow it?"

Your countenance reflected an acute internal conflict. Alicent clung to the hope that what followed would be erroneous.

"Do you still love her after all she's done to us? Has she twisted you to her will once again so swiftly?" Each question was infused with pure pain, yet she desperately needed to hear you confess.

Your silence only served to confirm it; you had become mute.

"We've become a love that inflicts pain," you finally articulated.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Aemond could return at any moment; you need to speak with him."

"So he forgives the lives of the usurpers?" she asked incredulously, displaying annoyance.

"We don't desire more deaths, Alicent. She is our rightful queen—" before you could complete the sentence, you felt Alicent's hand on your cheek. It was impulsive, born out of desperation, driven by jealousy, perhaps a culmination of various emotions; yet, she did not regret it in that moment.

You regarded her with surprise, but it was not unexpected. You had behaved like an immature 16-year-old girl, and she was unwilling to endure it again.

———

Rhaenyra was acutely aware of the imperative to persistently fortify her position within the heart of King's Landing. The lingering skepticism among a considerable number of individuals, who still refused to acknowledge her as the rightful queen, was more than mere whispers. It extended to some influential figures within the court, casting doubt on her legitimacy.

Simultaneously, Rhaenyra grasped the precariousness of abandoning the capital. The impending return of the middle Green brother signaled an imminent counterattack to reclaim the city. Aemond's unpredictable nature made it unclear how he would navigate the situation. Entrusting one of the Greens' scarce dragons to him, coupled with his lack of finesse in delicate matters, heightened the uncertainty.

The ensuing events took an unforeseen turn as the young prince and his dragon loitered on the outskirts of the city, in a secluded village where Vhagar had been observed for several weeks. Uncertainty loomed over Aemond's course of action, but Rhaenyra was wary of potential surprises.

"The Prince is in close proximity. His dragon incessantly circles the vicinity," reported the maester. Rhaenyra's countenance betrayed no overt concern, yet a flicker of resentment tinged her gaze at the mention of Aemond. It was only a matter of time.

"Let's pay my half-brother an unanticipated visit," Rhaenyra declared. Her gaze met yours, and it was evident that her directive for you to accompany her was not a matter of choice but a command. "And lady y/n, you're coming with me."

Your immediate acknowledgement underscored the non-negotiable nature of the order. "Yes, Your Grace," you replied succinctly. "It's prudent to intercept him before he reaches the city. The devastation he has wrought on remote villages, even among his allies, could escalate significantly if he arrives here."

"Exactly. I must engage him away from the populace. His intent is not only to seize my throne but obliterate what is rightfully ours," she concluded.

Daemon's audible discontent with being excluded was met with Rhaenyra's response. "Silverwing surpasses Caraxes in size. Moreover, your presence is essential here in case the usurper decides on an unforeseen return," she retorted, her tone dry and definitive. With an arrogant sigh, Daemon exited the chamber.

———

As you approached the Dragon Pit, you beheld her getting ready to mount Syrax, and your thoughts drifted back to that initial encounter.

"Who can understand the heart of a dragon?"

Another dragon emerged, and your alleged brother Addam, offered a timid smile as he mounted it—a moment reciprocated with your own nod.

—

The journey could've been briefer, but precautions were taken to avoid the townsfolk's prying eyes, where rumors of Aemond's presence lingered.

Out of the dragons' sight, the trio headed to a tavern to strategize. The plan seemed dubious to you, but you complied with the Queen's orders nonetheless.

Rhaenyra donned a chestnut wig, attempting to blend in inconspicuously, a stark contrast to her usual visibility. Addam, an unknown face, posed no issue, and you kept your hood up, adopting an Essos accent for authenticity.

"Ale, please," you asked the provocative waitress, whose intensity wasn't lost on you, making you slightly uneasy.

The Queen intervened, ordering "Water only" once the waitress was out of earshot. Perplexed, you questioned her choice.

"Here with a purpose. Can't afford distractions," she emphasized. Addam, sensing tension, lightened the mood with a jest.

“Can we indulge in a bit of enjoyment?”

“No.” She said stiffly.

Having received complimentary shots, the Queen, annoyed, paid and swiftly ushered you out. Adam stayed behind, kind of aware of the underlying dynamics.

In the rented room, the Queen discarded the wig, sipping wine. Perplexed, you questioned her abrupt change.

"Why the sudden shift? Now you are driniking," you remarked, gently yet seriously.

Concerned about potential espionage, she warned about the waitress being a possible spy. Frustrated, you defended the harmless encounter, asserting your commitment to the mission.

"I don't know why you're acting like this. We're not teenagers. What's gotten into you?" you queried.

Regretful, she apologized, admitting her lapse in judgment.

“I understand. We need to stay focused and vigilant,” she agreed, nodding. “We can’t afford any slip-ups”

“I've come to negotiate with Aemond," she disclosed, surprising you. In a moment of hope, you acknowledged the possibility of averting further bloodshed, honoring Luke's memory, Jace´s memory.

------

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