#this chapter really doesn't go anywhere and i'm not happy about it

[dreadsuitsamus]

Lost Part Three | Vegeta x Reader |

part one | part two | part four | part five | part six

author's note: sorry for the wait! i had a hard time getting a good flow with this chapter, and am not very satisfied with what i have here, unfortunately. i hope that for part 4 i will feel better about my writing, and that you all will as well

pairing: vegeta x fem!reader

warnings: canon-typical violence, ignore the canon timeline of events

Vegeta's ears ring, sounding as if he'd gone underwater when he hears Bulma yelling for his attention. He doesn't look for her, still locked onto that deadly serious look in your eye that's piercing his soul. He sees your sadness deep inside, how crushed you are to have to tell him of his son's betrayal. He feels like his stomach has dropped out of his body and his skin pales, knees giving out underneath him and sending him to the ground. He blinks slowly and looks in the fire, swearing he can see the image of his young son in the flames; the picture flickers back and forth from the strong young man he'd idealized, and then a more grimy, hateful man that barely resembles his oldest child.

"No… It… Can't be." Vegeta closes his eyes, determined not to cry in front of Kakarot and Bulma. This isn't their business, and he's getting angry with the way Bulma's pushing and prodding at him for answers. Her voice, shrieking and irritating, demanding things left and right without a care for what he's gone through since you came back into his life, strikes a particular nerve and his head throbs with every syllable she screeches.

"Vegeta!" She yells from the helicopter, luckily unable to land in the forest, else she'd be even closer to his migraine. "You scumbag, you haven't told me a damn thing! First you're married and now you have a-"

"Shut UP!"

Vegeta's eyes widen when he hears your voice. Your tails whips angrily and you've clenched your fists tightly, flying right up into Bulma's face. His hands grip into his sides, his stomach threatening to empty out the moment he tries following you to place himself in front of her. "No… Don't… Don't hurt her!"

You ignore Vegeta's weak plea, looking the woman that's stolen your husband directly in her eyes. "If you shriek one more time, I'll kill you." You growl.

A small hand slips into yours, and you nearly snap your neck when you feel it, seeing Gohan's concerned face looking up at you. Immediately you're subdued, having a soft spot for that young boy, your face falling; you've stepped out of line now.  You allow him to lead you away from Bulma, from the scene entirely, despite your rage and desire to be close to Vegeta.

Bulma's eyes are wide, her heart racing and veins ice-cold from your threat. You'd seemed so kind before your memories returned; and now, you've become a savage. She eyes Vegeta, noticing the haunted look in his eye as he stares down the fire. He hadn't budged a bit, not even after you threatened her life.

"I… Think you should take Chi-Chi and Trunks home." Goku says carefully.

"Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to-!"

"Bulma!" Chi-Chi snaps. "Let's go. Goku, don't let her run off again. Bring her home."

Goku nods at his wife's order, following the direction you and Gohan left in. Bulma glares at her friend, but Chi-Chi doesn't back down to her. "It's not all about you, Bulma. Let's go."

Bulma huffs and turns the copter to go back to Capsule Corp, leaving Vegeta alone by that stream. The prince gazes into the fire again, seeing the image of the bastard that nearly killed you (His son!! How in the hell did it come to this?!) and he feels a fresh sheen of sweat on his face right before he loses the control on his stomach and vomits, coughing and spluttering once there's nothing left. The ground is cool and damp when he falls back onto it; all he can hear is the flow of water and the crackle of the fire before it all goes dark.

Gohan's led you to a cliff, sitting beside you in comfortable silence. "My acceptance letter came in the mail."

You turn to look at him, the only light you've got in your life. "Yeah? Good; I'm proud of you, hon."

His smile lights your own eyes up. "You'll keep helping me study, right?"

"You'll keep your training up?" You smile gently at the boy. He's got the sweetness your son used to harbor, but you know his human side makes him pure, unlike your full-blooded Saiyan son.

"Deal!" Gohan throws his arms around you, and you hug him tightly. You feel tears building and you pull Gohan just a tad closer to you, thankful he's allowing the bruising hug.

"It's gonna be okay." Gohan whispers before Goku lands nearby. He kneels on your other side and gently puts his large, warm hand on your shoulder.

"Hey there." He smiles so, so softly at you. "Been a few days. Let's go home."

You blink. "I…?"

"Always."

You look back in the direction you and Gohan had come from. You feel your husband's power level, though it's muted. He's likely unconscious, never being able to take shock very well. Where you would grow angry or remain calm, he'd faint. The wind chills the tips of your ears and a shiver tears through you, making a mockery of your thin jeans and tank top, hot-blooded Saiyan be damned against the cold air.

"Alright, Kakarot."

Goku scrunches his nose. "Aww, now that you remember stuff, are you gonna call me that now?" His lips push out into a pout, and you can't help but laugh at the pitiful look on his face.

"It is your name." You hum, buzzing your lips thoughtfully. "But… if you prefer Goku-"

"I do! Very much!"

You nod, carefully gripping his gi. "Let's go home."

"I thought you'd never ask!" Goku picks up Gohan, tossing him atop his shoulder and grinning at the boy's laugh, pressing his calloused fingers to his forehead.

Warmth is the first thing you feel, and the first thing you hear is Chi-Chi. Your chest rumbles with your laughter, which only serves to make her angrier, but simply hugging her calms the energy. "I know." You murmur into her dark hair. Her arms around you are tighter than you expected, and her strength impresses you.

"Go shower; you smell like Vegeta." She mumbles, delicate hands settling on your waist for a brief moment as she pulls back.

Fighting back the urge to smirk (he's your mate, dammit) you simply do as she says. Your thoughts travel to your son, remembering his rage and intent to kill. Ever since you found out Vegeta had been alive the entire time… V had changed. Your son had warped into a resentful, vengeful Saiyan. You'd lost count the amount of times he'd accused you of lying to him, or hiding him from his father. It was all nonsensical dribble, but V believed every word- and having no idea where it had come from, you still gave him the truthful answers you'd given him since he was young; but it wasn't enough for him.

You'd fought your son several times in the last two years, but this was the closest he'd gotten to killing you. It was as if his control was slipping each time; even with the power boost after your near-death experience, you'd have to train hard to be strong enough to only subdue.

Only subdue.

I can't kill him… He's all I've got left.

"Is this all you've got, Mother?!" V screams at you, a spitting image of Vegeta's rage.

You swipe your thumb over your lip, finding blood on it that you're not entirely sure came from your lip. Each strike of V's is true, the bruises and cuts on your face all the proof needed. You've trained him well; too well.

"I suppose time-out isn't going to work anymore."

"I'm not a child!" He roars, flying at you with the intensity of an explosion behind the fist you suddenly find against your stomach. The air leaves your lungs, the feeling of something rupturing inside. You cough, a splatter of blood from your bitten cheek staining his shirt. V backs away, leaving you to drop to your knees, cradling your stomach as your empty lungs beg for air, burning harshly with the first breath you can take.

"V… " Your eyes land on the pod you'd stolen, crushed and sporting a massive hole from the charged attack your son launched at you. You don't know what planet you're on or where you're close to, but if you don't find a way to get out soon… You're as good as dead.

"It didn't have to be this way, Mother." His footsteps crunch on the solid ground, approaching you with his hand glowing yellow.

"It still doesn't have to." You growl, eyes flicking from V's boots to the pod he arrived in. "We can find your father together, V."

"We could've done that a long time ago, Mother! But you lied to me!"

Summoning the little strength that remains, you move your body right as his blast singes the ground, kicking his feet from under him and unleashing a flurry of punches to his face. Your heart's in a vice, beating in your only child's face like this. You just need to keep him down long enough to get away…

A final punch across his skull results in your son's loss of consciousness. Without preamble, you scramble to the pod to get the hell off this planet. You have no destination; as far away as you can get from V is the only specific you've got in mind.

I've got to find Vegeta…

There's an explosion after a handful of hours, and the next thing you know, you're staring at a face you've never seen before.

It's well past midnight when Vegeta makes it back to Capsule Corps. Carefully trudging through to not wake anyone, Vegeta strips the second he's in the bathroom for a scorching shower. His body is covered in dirt and sweat, not to mention he smells like fish from the stream… Though no matter how intensely he scrubs his skin, despite how red and raw he's made it, he cannot make the feeling of dirt vanish.

He feels like a two-timing son of a bitch. To both you and Bulma. He was content with his involvement with her, whatever it was, living together and raising their child… Something he missed out on with his firstborn. And that was another matter entirely; he hadn't even thought to tell her about his previous life. How could he? His heart, forever wounded by the loss and tortured by each and every what-if couldn't possibly take retelling the tragedy. He held no shame for you, had no intentions on keeping secrets from Bulma…

Vegeta's head spins and he has to brace himself on the wall, lest he slip and wake up Bulma. She no doubt has room to be angry and feel betrayed, but good lord he can't take any yelling right now. Vegeta's mating scar burns, ripping a hiss from his tongue as he clutches onto it. His primal body yearns, begs for reunification with his mate. With you, his first love, wife, mate…

Mother of his child.

Vegeta presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, seeing stars in the blackness. What in the hell had happened for his son to nearly kill you? Though supposing he can't be a character witness for the boy, having last seen him as a baby who'd been out of his incubator for only a short time… It's possible his son was just… 

No. A son of mine would never be like that on his own.

And speaking of a son, he can hear the cries of his baby boy even with the noises of the water surrounding him. Vegeta suppresses a sigh and is quick out of the shower, hair dripping onto his shoulders while he shoves on a pair of sweatpants and carefully goes to tend to Trunks. Naturally, though, Bulma's already beat him there and has the baby in her arms, calmly shushing him through his wails.

Her eyes cross with Vegeta's for a split second, and a groan forms at the back of Vegeta's throat. She's hurt, no doubt by the secrets; and your threat on her life wasn't exactly helpful. "Bulma…" He begins carefully.

"Not right now." She murmurs sadly, bouncing Trunks into softer cries.

He steps closer to her, impossibly close but not touching. "Give me the boy, and get yourself some more rest."

Her cerulean eyes widen and she meets his, finding sincerity in them. She was surprised to even see him back here at all, knowing his affinity for running away all the time. And the possibility that he was just here for amenities she provides, which could still be the case, is lessened. "You…"

"He's my son." Vegeta mumbles finally, breaking eye contact with her to look at his little boy. His fingers twitch, too eager to hold him and cherish the moments he has available to him. "I want to hold my son."

Bulma pauses for a beat, gazing down at the young baby. Trunks has stopped his tears, staring openly at Vegeta with wonder and smiles at him, one of those chunky hands reaching out. Vegeta slips his hands around the baby and pulls him away from Bulma, holding him close to himself and sitting in the rocking chair, already working on lulling the boy to sleep.

"Get some rest, Bulma. I won't tell you a third time."

Her exhaustion outweighs her stubbornness and with light feet, she's out the door and comfortably back into her bed. Despite the odds of waking up alone, she fluffs the pillow on the left side and saves half of the blankets.

Vegeta stares outside for a while, rocking the chair and holding Trunks to his warm chest. "Trunks. I know you are young and won't remember this. You won't remember the way I treated your mother, or how I left you as a bastard for a time. You will never know how sorry I am… Or how grateful I feel to get the chance to be a father to you. Truth be told, I didn't plan for you to exist. I have a son from years past that I do not know. I don't even know what he looks like; the last time I saw him, he was around your age."

Trunks coos, blinking slowly and nuzzling Vegeta's bared chest. Vegeta finally looks down at him, swiping a hand over the purple bits of peach fuzz he's growing atop his head. "I have made a vow to myself to be present for you. I now make that same vow to you, my second son. I will be here for you; I will raise you as a strong warrior, and a good man. You will be better than me, I'll make sure of it. That's what children do; they surpass their parents. You will be no different. And so help me, if you try to kill your mother someday…" Vegeta pauses. His eyes are watery, he finds, as he blinks and feels the tears on his cheeks. "I will have failed yet another child, and you do not want to see what happens then. Be good, and be strong. That is all I ask of you, Trunks."

V, I will find you. And you will not be ready.

When you wake, it's dark out. Your scar burns, but you ignore it in favor of getting up and dressing for a day of training; the best you can do is a t-shirt and leggings, unfortunately, as your Frieza Force armor was entirely destroyed beyond use and even recognition by V's assault.

"And where are you going?" Chi-Chi's in the kitchen checking the ribs in the slow-cooker when you pass through, and you sigh to yourself.

It's like my mother's alive.

"Just to train."

"For?" She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"To fight my son again."

"You nearly died, but you want to fight again?" Chi-Chi shakes her head; you damn Saiyans give her headaches.

"My pride as a Saiyan won't allow me to run and hide. And as his mother, it's on me to put him in his place. I have to become stronger to do that without killing him. He, for some damn reason, thinks I've lied to him his entire life. Like if I didn't know my husband was alive, I wouldn't have scoured every planet, every star and rock until I found him again. It's nonsense, but I haven't been able to convince him otherwise."

Chi-Chi sighs. "You'll need a good training partner then."

"Would you mind allowing Goku to train with me?"

"Can you wear him out enough so he'll be too tired to eat as much for a change?"

Laughing, your shoulders shrug while you rub the back of your neck. "I can try, but that's kinda asking a lot, don't you think?"

"A woman can dream." Chi-Chi sighs wistfully, setting the top back onto the slow cooker and washing her hands. "He won't be up for a while longer, so you'll have to settle for me instead."

"Oh?" You perk a brow, a smile forming on your lips. "You're a fighter?"

"How do you think I handle Goku?" She teases back and leads you outside, tying her hair up in a quick, messy bun. The air out is crisp and the grass is wet with dew, a few stars still twinkling in the sky as the Earth makes its way to the sun.

Your stretches are done in mostly silence, various bones snapping and popping from each of your bodies. You sigh to yourself; twenty years old was farther away than you wanted to admit. Chi-Chi seems to be on a similar train of thought, as her brow twitches in a manner you've never quite seen before. But she looks pissed now, and if that gives you a good warmup, so be it.

A quick bow and a pause later, Chi-Chi's testing your speed with her rush down maneuvers, her hands flying and advancing on you in impressive fashion. "I… Actually have to focus." You growl, your hands meeting every strike of hers and deflecting them from your body.

"You didn't think I'd go easy on you, did you?"

"I was hoping not." You grin and go on the offensive, pushing Chi-Chi back and switching into swift kicks she can barely keep her eyes on. She stumbles back, soon pinned under your knee.

"I'm more rusty than I thought…" She accepts your offered hand, brushing the grass from her pants while you ready into a new stance.

Chi-Chi spars with you for the better part of an hour, to her credit. You're relentless, your Saiyan appetite something she's surely used to with Goku. You bounce from side to side, rolling your neck and shoulders out, a big, satisfied grin on your face. "Man, this is fun! Think you can go faster?"

Chi-Chi huffs, clutching her side. If she were ever worried about her weight, a few mornings with you would set things straight. "Absolutely not. I'm… Going to make breakfast."

"Aww… Okay. Eggs?"

"Sure, sure…" Chi-Chi slowly moves into the house, leaving you by your lonely. With a little sigh you sit on the grass to meditate as the sun rises. A calm breath soothes the eagerness for Goku to wake up and start the real training, your mind oddly quiet despite the things you've been through lately.

Training always has been the best way to clear a Saiyans mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow, the dust from your surroundings clearing. You and Vegeta have both been tense; the mating season has just come to pass and you were yet to be with child. It's disappointing to the King to hear, but not any more than Vegeta's anger at the situation. He stands from his position, blue fabric of his standard issue armor torn in various places. "Are you done?"

"Am I dead?" You snark, pulling yourself off your knees and launching a hefty energy beam at him. Your husband dodges, though not without more of his suit burning up.

"Point taken." He snarls and flies at you with a fierce kick, your arm coming to block as your poor bones ache at the contact. His other leg kicks out at you and sends you off your balance and into the ground. You've come to the less developed portion of Planet Vegeta, the area more commonly used for training the military recruits. It's largely rock and clay, the reddened dust everywhere. You and your husband are cloaked in it, the dust practically becoming a second skin after the several hours you've trained.

Vegeta falls on top of you, his arms only barely catching the full force of his weight. He coughs at the dust in his lungs, his exposed shoulder and one of his legs covered in it. "This is unbecoming of royalty." He groans.

You sigh and spread your limbs out, resigned. But the training was effective; the failures of your bodies are far from your mind. "Why did we come out here… Filthy training grounds…"

"I have no idea." Vegeta mutters into the breast of your armor.

"Let's go home."

Vegeta's up at your soft command, picking you up in a gentle bridal carry to fly you back home. He's not affectionate out in public; his love is no doubt strong and unbreakable, as your bonded mate. But he doesn't enjoy others seeing him so soft for you, lest they get the wrong idea and assume weakness of him. But he holds you close to his body as he flies home, even once you've reached the castle courtyard, he continues carrying you. Servants, guards and even high-ranking officers are around to see Vegeta carrying you.

"'Geta-"

"Hush, princess."

You close your eyes and just let it happen, your feet hitting the floor once he's reached your bedchambers. A servant quickly draws a bath and Vegeta holds your hand when you step into the large tub, ensuring you're down safely before climbing in himself.

Your husband waves off the servants, leaving the two of you alone in your bath. His rippling, filthy muscles flex while he pours a small basin of water over himself. His dark hair falls to his shoulders, the look rather striking despite the oddity of seeing it. He gazes at you through his lashes. "You like what you see?"

"If I do?" Soapy water falls from your body with each pass of the cloth. "What'll you do about it?"

"Not a damn thing. Continue eye-fucking me at your leisure." He smirks and washes himself, his legs opening up as you wade through the suds and into his personal bubble. He follows your lips after an attempt to steal one from him, kissing you with the passion he always keeps close to his chest.

"Did you enjoy training today?"

"I always enjoy training with you. I regret we haven't kept up the old routine we used to have." Vegeta murmurs. Once your marriage was settled and you began trying to conceive, you were practically banned from any meaningful training. And it being all for naught so far was an added kick to the ribs.

"I do feel rejuvenated. Perhaps… We go back to it."

Vegeta's dark eyes meet with yours, contemplating the suggestion. The water around you is cooling, your fingers and toes pruned as you step out of the bath. Vegeta silently follows your lead to then drape one of your many robes over your shoulders. His hands linger in the close space between you, roaming over your arms. They've lost quite a bit of muscle, regrettably.

"I expect you to gain your form back." He murmurs. "You've gotten too thin for a warrior."

"Oh, I'll show you form." You grin mischievously, pushing him to the bed and pouncing.

You laugh softly at the memory. Sure enough you'd gotten your warrior body back proper, and the stresses of getting pregnant were less present on your mind as a result of the training; and as fate would have it, you'd fallen pregnant the very next mating season. Vegeta theorized your body knew how strong a child between the two of you would be, and refused a pregnancy until you'd returned to peak strength.

"Don't tell me you're tired!" Goku's voice is cheerful and you fly to your feet, hands glowing yellow.

"Why don't you come test that theory?"

Goku's eyes shine, a slow smirk spreading on those lips as he takes his stance, bent over with one hand curled before him and the other raised above his head. "I hope you know what you're in for!"

Vegeta comes to in the rocking chair, Trunks long gone from his arms as the sun pierces the sky. He only panics a brief moment before his logical side catches up; Bulma's no doubt awake and with the baby.

He finds Bulma in the kitchen with Trunks, feeding him a spoonful of mashed carrots and failing to keep the boy's face clean, despite her best efforts. Trunks cheers at the sight of his father and subsequently knocks the baby food from his mother's hand; the glass shatters into a trillion little pieces, orange mush splattering any nearby surfaces.

"Eh?" Trunks follows the sound, looking over the side of his high chair. Bulma braces her head on the tray of the chair, her hair a wild mess and her pajamas wrinkled and covered in baby food Trunks had spat out.

Vegeta's chest fills, a terrible feeling lingering. What does he do about this? He's mated, connected to you through an invisible thread that cannot be severed. And how he's missed you, dreamt of you for years on end… Loves you still, with everything in his heart. You are his wife. His everything. His past, his lover, his best friend.

What does he do?? A lesser man would cast Bulma aside, and had this situation happened even just a year ago, he'd be that lesser man in an instant. She was only ever intended to be a one-time thing; he'd hit a moment of weakness, and her strong, abrasive personality caught him at just the right time.

She's perfect for any Saiyan male; it's not difficult to see how any of this happened. Bulma cared for Vegeta when everyone else wanted him dead. Food, a home, clothes on his back, her first child and her heart. She's given so much to him.

He is not worthy of either your love or Bulma's.

"I'll clean up." He murmurs, casting his gaze away from his second family and retrieving a new jar of baby food before the broom and dustpan.

Bulma's eyes shine with tears as she takes the jar from him; Vegeta opts to clean the glass up, rather than try to find any words for her. She sniffles and resumes feeding the baby, but finally finds her voice.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"They were dead." He murmurs.

"Well they're not. She threatened to kill me, Vegeta!"

Vegeta's eye twitches at her quickly souring tone, his temples already hurting. "And she didn't."

Bulma's jaw clenches. "I notice you didn't do anything about it; you left an eleven-year old to keep a savage bitch from-"

"Do not talk about her that way!" Vegeta seethes with pure rage in his eyes, throwing down the broom. His hair flicks gold once despite being able to control his Super Saiyan transformation. "That is my wife and she's been through a lot; a lot I wasn't there for! My son beat her so badly she lost her memories for months. You'll be just fine with a mere threat and not even a scratch to show for it."

"So you are going to leave! As if me and Trunks aren't your family too!"

"Leave Trunks out of this. Now is not the time for you to worry about relationships, if that is what you even call this. Not when V is out there, completely getting away with what he's done to his own mother. If you don't care about what I have on my plate then don't, but you will not sit there and spout nonsense. Do you understand me, Bulma?"

Bulma scowls, her eyes just as angry as Vegeta's. "Fine."

Vegeta hastily cleans the rest of the baby food mess and storms to get dressed; he can't afford to waste anymore time. He needs to find you and discuss a plan; he'll be damned if he lets V get away with this. You're capable of Super Saiyan, yet V still bested you; you'll need to train harder to kill him. You've bested Vegeta in the past, so he's not foolish enough to think his son will be easily beaten. He himself will train with you and become stronger together to face something more challenging than Frieza.

He's going to have to kill his own child.

pop

"Where are we?" You look around to find only blue skies and the platform you stand on.

"The Lookout!" Goku grins. "Chi-Chi can't find us here…" He looks around regardless, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The last thing you saw before being brought here was a hole in the side of the house, courtesy of Goku himself.

"Hmm…" The hairs at the back of your neck prickle, and in an instant you've turned on your heel and fired off an attack you created with your husband; your hand is held out, thumb tucked in with a quick yet large burst of yellow energy.

"Woah!" Goku steps back. You're incredibly trigger-happy; Piccolo just barely dodged your great attack.

"Another Saiyan?" The Namekian grumbles, picking his weighted turban up from the ground and placing it back on.

"A very prideful one, Namekian, that doesn't appreciate your tone." You growl, eyes trained hard on the stranger, settling only with Goku's gentle touch to your shoulder.

Goku laughs nervously, hand coming to the back of his head as his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Sorry, Piccolo! She's, ah, a little on edge. We're here to train in the chamber!"

"Hm." Piccolo's eyes harden. A strange Saiyan from nowhere, here with Goku's trust? Reluctantly, he crosses his arms and drops his suspicion. "What's the occasion?"

"I need to get stronger, so I can knock my son down a few pegs." You cross your arms. The thought of facing V, of going to him with the intention to harm him makes your stomach churn. But staying on Earth isn't an option; V must face his comeuppance.

"S-So I was hoping you'd help?" Goku grins at his friend. "Gohan got into college, by the way!"

The Namekian's barely-there smile surprises you. "Good. The one he wanted?"

"Yes." You confirm with a nod. "He's also promised me he'll keep up his training."

Piccolo stares for a beat, presumably finalizing his opinion of you with a nod. Goku sighs in relief and steps to the direction of the chamber, Piccolo following along. "I assume Goku has told you about the chamber."

"One day outside is an entire year inside." You confirm. The door looms over you with every step, your heart determined to come out of this chamber with the strength to surpass your son. The anxiety of the inevitable pushes through your veins similar to the feeling of being dropped into ice water, your heart pumping erratically with every step.

The hairs at the back of your neck prickle, Goku and Piccolo clearly having a similar indication. Your focus remains on the door, your hand even touching the handle, as you hear a pair of boots touch the ground.

"If anyone's going into that chamber with her, it'll be me, Kakarot."

Piccolo eyes Vegeta carefully; something about him has changed. This isn't an argument of his strength versus Goku's, for once. His eyes are locked solely on you, a Saiyan that as far as Piccolo knows, came from thin air. And if anyone would know another Saiyan, it'd be none other than the Prince.

"Go home to your wife and son, Vegeta." You hiss out, and open the door. Vegeta flies in between you and Goku, ensuring the door is slammed shut before Goku could even think about stepping inside.

You take in the surroundings of the room, an endless sea of white around the small rest area near the door. One year in this room.

With Vegeta.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (10/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex, smut, the angst, squirting, semi-public intimacy, description drug overdose, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Although she hadn't written him back since their rather tumultuous phone call, her uncle had tried to soothe her anger by sending her pictures and videos of Vhagar at various frames and times of the day.

Through this, in the morning she would see her owner pouring food into her bowl, ordering her to stay still, listening to her squeals of impatience, then she could see her proudly carrying a big stick between her sharp fangs, and in the evening she would listen to him recording close-up footage of her dark eyes and wet nose asking her if she had missed her, with Vhagar then licking his phone.

She knew it was wrong, but some part of her felt happy about it and waited impatiently for each new message from him, because even though she didn't write him back she knew what he meant to tell her in this way: he wanted her to understand that he thought of her every day, anytime, anywhere.

She waited impatiently for news that would doom him in her eyes definitively, words from Daemon that he had killed someone again, hurt someone again, any confirmation that he was unable to change, that there was no going back for him.

There was something touching in that realisation, in the thought that he wasn't lying when he said he cared.

They both risked keeping in touch and because of that she had to have two phone cards to avoid attracting Daemon's attention, but other than that her uncle didn't try to call her or approach her, respecting her personal space.

He, however, surprised her by calling her one afternoon while she was in class. She didn't know what to do for a moment and then left the room to the surprise of everyone gathered, apologising to her professor, saying it was an urgent matter, led away by Robb's anxious, watchful gaze.

He hadn't spoken to her since his confrontation with her uncle, and she felt bad about it, but preferred not to approach him.

She had made the mistake of telling him too much and now she had to pay for it.

She sighed heavily as she stepped out into the corridor and answered, putting her phone to her ear.

"Aemond, you can't call me. Is something wrong?" She asked simultaneously frustrated and horrified.

"I got in. I passed the exam." He said excitedly, loud and clear, like a small child boasting to his mother that he had got the best mark in the class.

She blinked and shook her head, smiling involuntarily, feeling relieved at the thought that perhaps there was still hope for him.

He was really trying.

"I'm proud of you. I really am." She confessed from the bottom of her heart, wanting him to feel appreciated, to know that this was the right path for him and that she would support him in it without looking at what he had done to her in the past.

"Let's meet to celebrate. Please." He muttered, and she felt discomfort in her stomach, her whole body tensed.

"No." She said immediately, feeling fear, thinking this was another trap, another excuse to weaken Daemon.

"Just for a moment. In a public place, in a restaurant, in a café. Wherever you want, wherever you feel safe." He insisted, a plea in his voice from which she felt a sting in her heart, longing to see him and needing to keep him at bay.

"I can't, Aemond. You know I can't. I will always support you, including about your studies, but after what has happened I can't trust you." She said in a trembling voice, wanting to be honest with him.

She felt he deserved it.

She heard him swallow hard and fell silent for a long moment, making her feel remorseful, her heart pounding like mad.

"– forgive me – I had no right to ask you to do this – it was a mistake resulting from my selfishness – thank you for everything –" He said in a tone from which she felt an unpleasant shudder of self-regret, because some part of her wanted to please him, to be with him, to be happy with him, to make love to him.

But that was not enough.

"– Aemond –" She muttered, but he hung up, leaving her with an unpleasant, uncomfortable void in her heart.

She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, trying not to cry, thinking that she had done the right and sensible thing, that she had to look out for herself and not cross the line she had drawn for herself.

It was better for her and for him.

However, she couldn't stop the unpleasant feeling of disappointment and sadness when he didn't send her any photos or messages that day or any day after. She thought that he was punishing her in this way and that it was a painful form of manipulation on his part to which she could not react.

He wanted to break her, to force her to be with him again, to make her feel remorse and let him do what he wanted with her.

She was not going to make the same mistake.

She felt for the first time that something was wrong when her professor accosted her in the corridor.

"Your friend got the best score of all the participants in the exams, Miss Strong, but he has not yet submitted all the documents. He shouldn't delay, if he doesn't do it by Wednesday, someone else will take his place." He explained, and she swallowed hard and nodded.

"I'll pass it on to him." She muttered and as soon as she said goodbye to him, she texted him.

He, however, did not write her back either that day or the next, making her cry again through the night because of him.

Was he punishing her in this way?

Was he showing her that if she did not meet his expectations he would do nothing to change?

That her presence was supposed to be the payment for him going to University?

She thought it was terribly unfair of him and that she didn't want to know him only to send him another message in despair.

He, however, continued not to reply and she had lost hope that anything would change.

"You haven't been eating lately. What's going on?" Asked Daemon, driving with her to the supermarket to buy things for dinner.

He took her to various places under his watchful eye, trying to find her activities to keep her from sitting in her room and torturing herself with thoughts.

She swallowed hard and looked away, not wanting to talk about it or lie to his face. She heard her step-father sigh heavily at her lack of response, impatient, and he was already about to say something when suddenly his phone rang in the car.

He answered by clicking the hands-free mode, connecting directly to the car's control panel.

"Boss, there's a small problem at the Moon & Stars club. There has been an incident, someone has tried to rob the safe. We suspect it was Hightower's people, but they managed to run away. They didn't take anything."

She looked at her father, who sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.

"Do I have to do everything myself? I'll be right there." He hissed impatiently and turned off the road, heading in a completely different direction.

He didn't usually take her with him to do his business, but now apparently the matter was serious and they were too far from home to turn back.

As they went inside, Daemon pointed his finger at one of the guest lodges to her.

"Wait here for me and stay where you are. Ten minutes and I'm back. Is that clear? You can order yourself something to drink, just have them pour it by your side in a glass." He said and she nodded, having no intention of doing anything but sitting.

Old rock classics were playing all around her, posters of bands and various guitars everywhere, red and blue lights blinking all around her, tormenting her already tired eyes.

She hadn't slept well the past few nights.

"Rhaenys?" She heard someone's voice behind her and turned, surprised to see a woman in front of her, the same one she had met when Daemon had shown her what her uncle had done to Robert.

She looked at her with big eyes, confused and terrified, because no one but him had ever called her by that name.

"Alys. We've already met." She introduced herself, extending her hand to her, holding her drink in the other, and she shook it.

The woman grinned in a way she didn't like and sat down across from her, making her feel uncomfortable. She looked around, trying to spot Daemon in the crowd, tense.

"Don't be scared. I'm a friend of Aemond's and an old acquaintance of your step-father's." Alys said calmly, taking a sip of whisky from her glass.

She looked at her with her heart beating fast, playing with her fingers in a gesture of concern.

"– but –" She muttered, unsure if she wanted to know how she knew the name that only her uncle called her by.

How close friends they were.

It seemed to her that Alys saw the question written all over her face, because she grinned even wider.

"He revealed to me the name he calls you by accident. Let's just say it slipped out to him in a moment of elation because he forgot it wasn't you lying beneath him." She said softly, without a grimace of anger or frustration, as if she found it amusing.

She swallowed hard, feeling an unpleasant sting in her heart at the thought that she was having sex with him, that he was comfortable with another woman.

On the other hand, her words sounded in her ears making her grow hot.

It slipped out of him in a moment of elation because he forgot that it wasn't you lying beneath him.

Alys sighed, spreading herself out comfortably on the couch, seeing that her words had completely shocked her and she didn't know how to act.

"Don't worry. We were never in a romantic relationship. I find the fact that he is so deeply in love with someone quite charming. For a long time I didn't know who the mysterious Rhaenys was, as there was no girl in our society with that name. It wasn't until recently that I found out for what reason Aemond kept his feelings to himself. An uncle should care for his niece, but not that much, right?" She sneered, and she swallowed hard with a loud snort of air.

Was she trying to scare her?

To blackmail her?

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked horrified, making the woman raise her eyebrows high.

"I want to help. I suspect your father didn't tell you that Aemond had recently overdosed on sleep drugs." She said, and she froze, feeling herself go deaf for a moment, and everything around her stopped.

"What?"

"He's in hospital in intensive care. I found out about it from his grandfather's co-workers. Everyone is whispering about it being a suicide attempt, thinking it was because Otto decided to make Aegon his successor. But I think otherwise." She said calmly, tilting her glass, drinking its entire contents to the end in one gulp, and set it down on the table.

"When he came to talk to me last time, he talked about you. He wanted me to help him with the Larys Strong case. Fear not: we've had nothing more in common than business for over a year. Since your name slipped out of his mouth, he was no longer comfortable with this form of intimacy, which is quite understandable. I learned his sweet little secret, but honestly, looking at you, I don't blame him." She said lightly with a simultaneously heartfelt and disturbing smirk.

Their relation was deep, she thought with regret, even if they were not together.

Something in that thought saddened her, the image of their bodies entwined together.

Did he feel the same when he saw Robb?

Are you two together again?

Are you in love with him?

"It hurts you that he slept with me. That he didn't wait for you." She stated calmly, as if she had come to some obvious, ordinary conclusion. She twisted in her seat, feeling panic rising within her, her bright green eyes seeming to pierce her to the core.

"I don't know what you mean." She muttered, looking away, red with embarrassment.

"I know he hurt you. What he did to you. In a way, I admire how you endangered yourself for him having Daemon under your nose. It's tragic that you love him so much, but it's even more tragic that he reciprocates your feelings. It saddens me to see such a young, innocent girl fall down with him because of his greed." She said dryly, making her shake her head, clenching her eyes, feeling hot tears under her eyelids.

"Leave her alone, Alys. Don't mess with her head." Daemon said, grabbing her arm and lifted her upright. The black-haired woman looked at him, sighing heavily, the expression on her face not changing one bit.

"I was just offering her my condolences."

As soon as they got into the car, her step-father began his interrogation.

"What did that witch want from you? I like her, but she's a specific person and I'd rather you didn't talk to her alone." He scoffed, pulling out of the car park. She looked blankly out of the window, feeling horribly tired.

"That Aemond has overdosed and is in hospital."

Daemon rolled his eyes, impatient, and licked his lower lip.

"I didn't want to burden you even more. To make you think it's your fault. Your uncle is trying to make himself a victim."

"He killed Larys Strong for me." She muttered and heard Daemon take a deep breath, frustrated.

"Maybe he did, maybe he didn't."

"He did. Because of that rape pill. Against his grandfather's will."

"How do you know that? I forbade you to contact him. Do you want me to take your phone away from you so you'll finally wise up?"

"I don't want him to die."

Daemon fell silent and stopped at the side of the road, turning on the emergency lights. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a moment – they continued like that for a moment in a silence filled with tension, her fingers involuntarily tracing over the scars on her wrists.

Her reminder of what he had done to her.

"We can't help him if he doesn't want it himself. Do you understand?"

"He wants it."

"You're the only one who believes that."

"After they imprisoned me in their house, he stayed in one room with me all the time. He cried constantly, like he was a little baby. He is broken. He begged me for forgiveness."

"If he had really cared about you, he would never have done this to you."

"If your father had bequeathed in his will what was due to you to someone else, would you have left it that way?" She asked, glancing at him. Daemon shook his head, sighing heavily, shaking the dust off his trousers.

"If you cared about peace, you would have made a deal with them. My mother doesn't think justice has been done, but she remains silent for your sake. She will not stand up to you." She said coldly. Daemon looked at her with a gaze from which she froze.

"Careful now."

"Or what? You've always resented me for lying. But can you be told the truth without fear of the consequences? Do you only want to hear the kind of truth that is convenient for you?"

"Your grandfather bequeathed to your mother what he wanted in his will. Nobody forced him to do that. Do you think I'm going to give it back to them so they won't be sad? So that your poor one-eyed uncle doesn't cry? Wake up. Why do you think Viserys passed everything on to Rhaenyra? Hm? Is it because he's in love with me? Because he despised his sons? No. Because he knew that whatever he bequeathed to them, Otto would take it. He showed him that he never really trusted him and he was absolutely right."

They stared at each other in silence, the air around them so thick she felt she had trouble catching her breath. She turned her head away, feeling only fatigue, only regret.

"Take me home."

Daemon snorted and shook his head, taking off with a screech of tyres, furious.

Only money mattered, only influence, only power.

Everything else was just an obstacle to the goal.

When they got home Daemon held out his hand to her, startling her.

"Give me your phone."

She pressed her lips together, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad in rage.

"No."

She saw her step-father smack the inside of her cheek with the tip of his tongue, standing with his hand stretched out in front of him.

"I don't like repeating myself."

"No."

"Should I call your mother? Are you going to tell her that you talk to your uncle and what you do with him in your free time?" He sneered, making her feel a squeeze in her throat. "Come to your senses."

"Tell her what you want. I don't care." She said dryly and moved ahead, running upstairs to her room.

She locked herself in the bathroom and changed the card in her phone, looking in her contacts for Helaena's old number, the one she'd given her when they were still little girls, praying she'd answer.

"Hello?" She heard her soft voice on the other end and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hi. I'm sorry to bother you. I know Aemond is in hospital. He's passed his university exam, but the deadline for submitting his documents is today. They should be in his flat in the envelope he got from the University. Are you able to fill them out and bring them to the Archaeology Department tomorrow?" She asked in a whisper, afraid that someone outside would hear her conversation.

"Oh. Okay. Okay, I'll try." She muttered, and she breathed out heavily, feeling relieved.

"Thank you. How is he?" She asked quickly.

"He's still not awake, but his condition is stable. The worst is behind us. Our mum tried to call him but he didn't answer, so she drove there to see what had happened. Thank goodness she had spare keys to his flat."

The next day she set it as a point of honour to convince her professor and dean, appearing with Helaena, that the situation was exceptional and procedures could be bent in this situation.

"I didn't know my friend was in hospital. It happened suddenly and for this reason he could not bring the documents yesterday, which however his sister has with her today."

"We cannot accept them without his signature." Said the dean, making her feel an unpleasant discomfort in her stomach at the thought that her uncle would wake up only to find that his chance was gone.

"I ask for your understanding in this unique situation. He is unconscious at the moment and fighting for his life. As soon as he is able, he will come to sign the documents in person. The professor told me that he passed the exam with the best result. He's been through a lot and I don't want his work to be in vain." She said, and the man sighed heavily and nodded.

"Very well. But as soon as he is able, he is to appear here immediately and explain to me in person."

She sent him another message that same day, knowing from Helaena that he was finally awake and that nothing was threatening his life anymore.

He, however, did not write her back.

Was it because of her that he had done this to himself?

Was it because she had not met him?

She felt anger and remorse at the same time, but mostly she was relieved that he was still alive.

Lying alone in bed late at night, she thought she would go mad if she didn't find out why he had done it, so in a gesture of despair she decided to call him to find out how he felt.

She shuddered when she heard him pick up, but he was quiet, complete silence on the other end of the receiver.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly, wondering if she was about to hear a litany from him about how much he had suffered because of her, that he didn't want to live because of her.

Would he try to manipulate her with remorse.

"Exactly as I deserve."

She swallowed hard, completely not expecting such an answer, not knowing what to make of his words.

Exactly as I deserve.

She lowered her gaze, playing with her duvet between her fingers, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

"Did you… really want to do this?" She muttered, dreading his answer, and he laughed, as if something in her question amused him for some reason.

"No. I wanted to see how you felt that day."

She froze, feeling her breath get stuck in her lungs, her eyebrows arching in pain at his words.

"Your suffering is not my desire, Aemond. You hurt me, but I don't want revenge. I just want… to stop feeling this unbearable pain in my heart that I have felt in my chest for eight years." She muttered, simultaneously wanting to see him again and forget him, to run away from him and let herself be locked in his arms once more.

"I regret it so much. I told my grandfather that I didn't want him to involve you, but he said that if we didn't, someone else would want to take advantage of Daemon's weakness for you. And I believed him. I thought that Larys will actually try to do something to you again, but only now do I understand that it was a simple lie that I easily accepted to justify myself. Fuck, I'm so ashamed, baby, I really am." He choked out with difficulty, whooping with tears, making her freeze completely, just listening to him.

"My father took everything from me. I did these fucked-up things to other people for nothing. I mutilated them for nothing. The only thing he left me is the property by the sea, the same one where I lost my eye, as if he had made a mockery of me. I was so lost. I still am."

She swallowed hard, staring dully ahead, feeling as one by one tears ran down her face.

Some part of her understood him, knew how hurt and disappointed he must have been, but another couldn't forgive him for somehow using her to get revenge on Daemon and her mother.

She felt like her head was going to burst.

"What do you want, Aemond? Truly. Be honest." She asked, impatient, and heard him swallow heavily.

"I want to study and see you once in a while. In a public place, so that you feel safe."

She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling the heat in her stomach and chest, for which she rebuked herself in spirit, trying to remain sober in her mind.

"And that's it? What about your family? About your business?"

"My grandfather limited my influence and responsibilities after I shot Larys without his knowledge. He no longer trusts me and doesn't assign me important tasks."

It was only then that she understood why he had actually overdosed.

He had lost his business.

He had lost his grandfather's respect.

He had lost her.

He was alone, exactly as he was then.

His face contorted in pain and despair, his red cheeks flooded with tears, his eyes closed and his hands clenched into fists then, as he stood up to his waist in the sea water, alone and terrified.

"The University Library." She said feeling that she had made up her mind.

"I don't understand."

"We can meet in the University Library."

"Really?" He asked excitedly, as if she had given him a wonderful surprise, and she swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in her throat.

"Only there and for a short time. Once in a while. If I find out you did something to hurt me or my family, you'll never see me again."

She didn't care about their business, their money, their eternal need to prove to themselves who was in charge of this town.

She just wanted her friend back.

The next day she turned up at the agreed place all tense, hiding her little pocket knife in her bra beforehand, afraid that he would trick her again.

That he would betray her again.

So many emotions were rattling through her head that her hands were shaking and although she tried to concentrate on reading her textbook, she couldn't. When she heard the sound of the door opening and raised her head from the book, she drew in a breath, seeing his silhouette emerge from behind the bookcases.

He stood still, as if petrified, his eyes and mouth opened wide.

"Hi." He muttered as if choking.

"Hi." She replied, looking at him watchfully, ready to run away.

She swallowed hard as he simply pulled off his leather jacket and sat down next to her on the big, soft cushions.

Afraid of how much her heart was pounding, how euphoric she felt at the sight of him, she decided to turn her thoughts away from that and get to the point, pulling from her backpack her notebooks that she had brought for him.

"I brought you my notes from first year. Read them, if you can't decipher something, I'll try to guess what I wrote. They'll come in handy for you before semester exams." She said indifferently, handing them to him one by one. He nodded and swallowed hard, taking them from her, clearly not knowing how to act.

"Thank you."

Having no idea what more she could say, she leaned back and sank into reading her textbook again, afraid to look at him, afraid of what she would see in his gaze.

She shuddered and took a breath as he lay down beside her and put his head on her shoulder, exactly as she had done when they had read books together as small children.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling tears squeeze into her eyes at this tender memory.

He heard her uneven breath, his moist, soft lips brushed her neck as his hand touched her waist, locking her in a warm embrace that felt too good, too safe.

No.

"– please –" She muttered, but didn't have time to say anything else because he interrupted her.

"– I have a gift for you –" He said, surprising her completely, taking out a rose-shaped red lollipop from his pocket after a moment. "– I didn't know what kind of flowers you like, so I bought one like this – the sales lady said it has a strawberry flavour –"

She felt touched and at the same time pained at the thought of how sweet and thoughtful this gift was. She took it from him, turning it in her fingers, no longer able to remember the last time anyone had given her something without an occasion to just make her smile.

"I'll eat it later. I don't want to get the books dirty now. Thank you, that's very kind of you." She said softly, putting the lollipop aside, and he nodded, his face pressed against her cheek as his fingers ran slowly over her face.

For some reason she didn't understand when he leaned back, her body followed him, laying next to him on the soft material. She let his arm draw her closer, his hand combing through her hair as her fingers touched his chest.

He nuzzled her face into the hollow of his neck, and she closed her eyes, smelling the pleasant scent of his aftershave and his masculine perfume, making a wonderful warmth spill over her lower abdomen.

"Several of my father's men are dead. They were shot on your grandfather's orders." She whispered, not wanting to forget who he was or what he had done.

She heard him sigh quietly, his fingers trailing over her head and down her back, playing with the curls of her hair.

Why did she feel so surprisingly safe in his arms, why was she so relaxed, so calm, why did her chest fill with some strange, unnatural relief?

"I know."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No. My grandfather restricted my field of action after we called the emergency services when you…" He didn't finish, and she swallowed hard, knowing what he meant.

She decided she had to ask him this question, even though she was so afraid of his answer.

"If your grandfather tells you to kill Daemon or my brother. What will you do then?"

To her surprise, he seemed to have expected her to ask him this, for he answered almost immediately, without hesitation or uncertainty in his voice.

"I will tell him to do it himself. The times when I was his dog are over and he knows it. He has no idea what to do with me. I'm out of his control."

Something in his words, in the confidence with which they left his throat made her feel hot in her heart. She lifted herself up on her arm, wanting to look at his face, knowing that even if his lips lied to her, she would see the truth in the look of his healthy eye.

"What's your plan?"

Her uncle hummed under his breath, his hand from her neck sliding down between her breasts, trailing along the buttons of her dress, making a hot shiver run down her spine.

He was doing this on purpose, she thought.

"I want to start acting on my own." He said cautiously and looked at her with a glint in his eye that she didn't like.

"What do you mean?" She muttered involuntarily.

"If you think there's a way I could escape this world, you're wrong. Even Daemon didn't escaped it, he simply gathered his most trusted people and expanded his influence. I want to do the same, and I will start by taking over Heavenly Beach. Since Larys is dead, chaos has reigned there, and I intend to take advantage of it. Many of my grandfather's people don't like the vision of them having to work for Aegon in the future. They neither respect nor fear him." He sneered, saying the words as if he was proud of himself.

She stared at him in disbelief, not expecting such a response from him, the fact that he would dare to think of cutting himself off from his grandfather, of breaking away from his leash.

His words surprised her so much that she didn't know what to say, what she felt, what she thought about what she had just heard.

She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when his finger tapped her breast where her pocket knife was tucked under her bra, feeling the cold sweat on her back at the thought of him noticing it.

"– wise girl –" He hummed, using this as an excuse to tease her through the material of her dress, rubbing the spot under where he knew her nipple was.

She swallowed loudly, feeling a wave of pleasurable heat surge through her entire body, the place between her thighs pulsed painfully hard, embarrassingly wet and eager for him not to stop.

She thought she would not give him that satisfaction.

"What do you intend to do with my step-father?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her with a smirk, shamelessly closing his hand on her breast again and again, no longer even pretending that he meant anything other than to feel her.

"Nothing. I won't attack him first. For you. He has nothing to do with Heavenly Beach." He muttered, spreading himself more comfortably on the cushion, already focusing only on where his hand was and what it was doing to her. She shuddered as another wave of tickling pleasure and tension shook her loins, her fingers involuntarily clenching on his wrist.

"– stop – someone will see –" She mumbled, looking around, terrified that Robb or anyone else who knew her might see them.

"I want it back." He whispered. "I want what we had during that summer."

She swallowed heavily, looking up at him in shock, feeling her heart get stuck in her throat and stop beating for a second.

I want it back.

I want what we had during that summer.

His words, so childish, simple and ill-considered were too painfully honest for her, his gaze hot and thirsty, full of what he was speaking of.

"I…God, after all, you know it won't work. We can't. No one will accept it, no one will understand. We'll be miserable again." She whispered pleadingly, shaking her head, unable to even imagine what it would look like.

To him, however, it clearly didn't matter anymore, and that shocked her the most.

"If you don't want it, I'll understand it. What I desire is fucked up, like my whole person. But I want you to know that what happened between us… then, when my father died. It was real. I've never felt more alive and fulfilled than then, being deep inside you. You were so warm." He said, running his thumb over the soft skin of her cheek, making her turn all red at his words, her cunt all slick from her moisture clenched greedily around nothing.

"Aemond." She mumbled in embarrassment, involuntarily feeling him inside her again, the thrusts of his hips forcing him deep, deep into her delicate flesh.

"I don't care how wrong it is. I don't care about morality. I've done far less moral things to other people. Making love to my niece seems to me the smallest of my sins." He confessed, sinking his hand into her hair, looking at her in a way that made her want to cry.

Making love to my niece seems to me the smallest of my sins.

Making love.

"Someone might say it's disgusting and wrong, but I only care about what you want. I don't give a shit about others. What they will think of me, whether I live by their rules or not. What can they do to me? Mock me? Fear me? They are already do. It's not about me, it's about you. I don't want to ruin your life."

She burst out crying at his words, because although he had hurt her so much, some sick part of her had longed to hear it for eight years. She moaned quietly as his lips began to place quick, helpless kisses on her face, his wide hands enclosing her in his embrace, trying to comfort her.

But she knew there was no comfort for them.

There was no future for them.

"– please – please, I don't want you to cry because of me –"

"This is just too much. I wish I could be a child again. To go back to that sea. To fall asleep next to you in that room. I wish I could feel again the peace I felt then. Your presence next to me. But I can't have it." She mumbled, choking on her own tears, involuntarily seeking relief in his proximity, feeling grief at the thought that he could not be the strange man she was allowed to love.

"You have it. You have me. You always had."

She looked up at him and froze, breathing hard, looking straight into his eyes, one empty and dead, the other filled with the hot affection she so feared.

"Do you like me?" He asked, and she blinked, not understanding what he meant. She nodded, however, wanting him to know that no matter how hard she tried, she was incapable of hating him.

"Very much?" He continued and smiled as she nodded again, breathing loudly through her mouth, trying to calm the convulsions of her body.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

What?

The two of them, then, by the sea, walking side by side, the white shells in her hand, his soft, moist lips that evening on hers, his warm embrace as she lay snuggled into his body at night, in his room, in his bed.

"This time I'm aware of what I'm asking for. What I want. And although I should, I'm not ashamed of it. I have wasted eight years that I could have spent with you, no matter how much we would both have suffered during that time. I want to suffer with you by my side now." He whispered, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear in a gesture so tender that her voice stuck in her throat.

"I wish I could trust you, but I don't know if I can." She muttered with difficulty.

His eyebrows arched in pain at her words.

"I know. I'll wait as long as it takes." He whispered, his broad, warm hand running over her cheek.

I'll wait as long as it takes.

She was terrified by the fact that everything inside her screamed that she wanted him back.

She wanted him to be close.

She wanted him to touch her.

She wanted him to love her.

"You can only embrace me and hold my hand. No kisses on the lips and don't try to take me." She muttered, to her surprise instead of shame feeling relieved.

Against everything and everyone, morals and good manners, everything she valued in life.

They were together.

To her simultaneous annoyance and delight, her uncle took her words very loosely: he didn't kiss her lips and his hands didn't go near the area of her panties, but over the following weeks, when they met in secret in the library, his fingers travelled over every other part of her body.

She deliberately stopped wearing a bra, knowing that the thought that someone might have noticed her nipples under her T-shirt drove him to fury.

As she spread herself comfortably between his thighs with her textbook that they were reading together, satisfaction filled her body as she felt his hard manhood pushing greedily against her buttocks, his hand in some subconscious motion slipping under the material, enclosing itself on her soft, plump breast.

"– you are doing this on purpose –" He breathed out into her ear, rolling his hips back and forth, rubbing his throbbing length against the space between her buttocks, trailing his lips down her long neck, leaving wet, sticky marks on her bare skin. "– you let others look at what is mine – you punish me –"

She sighed, closing her eyes, tilting her head back so that she rested it on his shoulder, showing him grace – she clenched her thighs involuntarily, feeling a wonderful pulsing between them as his lips sank greedily into the hollow of her neck, her hand clamped down on his wrist, encouraging him not to stop.

"– let me look at them – take pity on me –" He exhaled, completely losing interest in reading, kneading the silken, smooth structure of her breast with his fingers as his other hand slid down to her bare thigh, stroking it affectionately.

"– we can't – someone will see us –" She muttered, her breath heavy and deep, her whole body hot and tense from the waves of tickling, overpowering pleasure, his hands, his scent, his closeness driving her mad.

It always ended the same way.

"– there are no cameras here – please – I haven't seen you all week – I've been good, haven't I? – hm? –" He gasped, and she swallowed hard at the thought of what he had done.

He, accompanied by Criston Cole and a handful of trusted men, had carried out attacks on all of the clubs owned by Larys Strong at once, taking over the entirety of his inheritance, depriving his grandfather of half of his trusted associates.

An expression of their displeasure at having nominated Aegon as his successor.

Daemon was shocked by this turn of events, having enemies on two fronts wondering, in fact, whether to respond to her uncle's offer to make a deal.

Aemond could have given Daemon the advantage over Otto that he so needed.

It was probably only the chaos and what was going on around him that made Daemon not ask her why she was going to the library in the middle of the summer, thinking apparently that she was trying to escape from what was going on around her that way.

It was partly true.

She knew that her boyfriend's conciliatory attitude was not because he had suddenly fallen in love with her step-father or brother, but because he wanted her, and she had the power to reward him for being faithful to her and for keeping his promises.

It was a dangerous game and they both knew it.

She sighed and turned in his embrace, sitting down on top of him, pulling her Tshirt over her head without much finesse. Her uncle froze for a moment, staring at the sight before him, his swollen erection beneath her pulsed hard again and again.

She decided to tease him a little and began to rock her hips back and forth, pressing down on what was beneath her, a muffled, low groan came from his throat.

"– fuck –" He mumbled, stroking her naked waist, watching her bare silhouette as if he were staring at something sacred that he held in reverence, for a moment afraid to touch her as he desired.

She rested her hands on his chest as he began to roll his hips, and after a moment he leaned in, sinking his face between her soft breasts.

"– ah –" She sighed, tilting her head back in pleasure, feeling her swollen pussy throb around nothing as his slick tongue ran over her sternum.

Her fingers combed through his short hair as his face moved slightly to the side, blindly searching for her nipple, around which his puffy lips clamped down after a moment, beginning to suck.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, snuggling his head closer to her chest, involuntarily wanting to feel him harder, closer, deeper, the sweat of exertion and emotion trickling down her bare spine.

His face pressed against her breasts, his lips and tongue sucking and licking her nipples were the furthest form of their intimacy, something lewd and wonderful at the same time, a perpetual torment with no possibility of fulfilment.

"– fuck, let me – please – just this once –" He exhaled wearily, switching from one breast to the other, squeezing it between his fingers, directing her hard, sensitive nipple to his lips, which he clamped around it.

Shivers and waves of delightful tension shook her whole body making her mind all foggy, the space between her thighs all throbbing and moist, ready to welcome him deep inside her.

She rose suddenly from her knees, grabbing the material of her T-shirt, putting it over her head as if nothing had happened, feeling a drop of her own wetness run down her thighs.

"– baby –" He muttered, touching her bare leg, trying to stop her, desperate and thirsty.

"– next week Professor Addams is organising a private excavations two hours away from our town – it's a site in one of the medieval fortresses of our region, very important and he needs volunteers – I've offered to let you come and to count it as your student practices, so that you would have to make up less of them during the academic year – professor will rent rooms for all of us in a hotel nearby – if you come and do your best, I'll let you sleep with me –" She said lightly, looking at him over her shoulder, knowing how ambiguous her words sounded and that was exactly what she meant.

She saw him swallow hard, looking at her with wide eyes, his erection twiched hard in his trousers.

"– do you mean it? –" He mumbled in a trembling voice, as if the very thought made him faint.

"– yes, but it's two weeks – you'd then either have to give up your job, or drive to do your errands at night and come back in the morning –" She explained, taking her backpack in her hand, getting up from the ground.

He stood up with her, grabbing her aggressively around the waist, her body slamming against his.

"– promise me –" He whispered in a trembling voice into her ear, making her leaking pussy clench hard around nothing.

He groaned when, instead of words, her lips found his in a loud, deep kiss that took his breath away. His fingers clenched on her hair, not allowing her to move away, her tongue thrust deep between his teeth with his loud sigh of delight, colliding with his, which she licked invitingly.

She pushed him away and stepped back, trying to calm herself, in his healthy eye a heat and madness she had never seen before in her life.

He was on the verge of fucking her right here and now, ripping off her shorts and panties and slamming into her on the cold library floor.

She wouldn't stand up to him, and her moist cunt would gladly accept him deep inside her.

But he didn't know that.

"– I'll write you all the details later – take it seriously –" She mumbled, having increasing trouble pretending indifference and that she felt nothing for him.

He nodded his head like a small child and she gave him one comforting smile.

"– I love you –" He muttered in a trembling voice, and she felt a twinge in her stomach at his words, her heart filling with heat.

"– I love you too –" She finally confessed with shame, feeling her voice break. He pressed his lips together as if he wanted to cry, his eyebrows arched in pain.

"– I need you – please –"

"– be there –" She mumbled pleadingly and turned away, moving towards the exit, afraid that if she stayed with him a moment longer, she would finally give in to him.

Daemon was not happy with the idea of her leaving for so long.

"– the situation is still tense – someone of my people would have to be there with you –" He said.

"It's an archaeological excavations. I need a change of environment. I've been answering your every call for the last few months. I'm tired. I want to get away from what's going on and earn some money. Drive me there yourself if you're afraid I'm lying. You can call my professor, he will confirm that I have expressed my willingness to go with him again as his assistant. He's a good man. We'll sit in research all day and at night in a hotel."

"In what hotel? I need to know." He said impatiently.

"There is only one small hotel in this village on the main street." She explained, and her father sighed heavily.

"Please. This fortress is an important site. These excavations will count as practices, that way I won't have to do so many of them during the academic year. I haven't even swum in the lake this year, I just want to be alone for a while and do what I really enjoy."

Her stepfather sighed heavily and nodded.

"So be it. But I'll drive you away personally."

The next day she decided to text him to set things up.

Fuck.

She sighed heavily when he didn't write back then or the next day, clearly furious at the thought of having to look at her ex's face, but there was nothing she could do about it.

When Daemon drove her there he personally inspected her hotel room and furrowed his brow when he saw two single beds in it, not one.

"Who are you going to spend the night with?" He asked dryly.

"Certainly with some female friend." She shrugged her shoulders, placing her bags on the floor, feigning indifference.

She found with concern that lying to him was coming more and more easily to her.

He sighed and nodded.

"Report to me every day: text me or your mother in the morning and evening that you are fine. If you don't, I'll come here personally." He said warningly, and she smiled in his direction and nodded, for some reason happy.

She would spend a two weeks with him.

"Okay, Dad."

Daemon liked it when she called him that.

His gaze softened and he left her alone, throwing over his shoulder that she should watch over herself and not do anything stupid.

Too late, she thought with amusement.

She was joyful, and the sight of herself smiling in the mirror seemed unnatural to her.

She was certain that this happy little girl had died a few years ago.

She waited two hours to be sure her step-father is far away and went out into the corridor, looking for her professor. She wanted to inform him that she would be spending the night in a room with her boyfriend, while texting her uncle that Daemon had already left and he could enter the building in peace.

As she had found out from one of the students, their professor was overseeing the setting up of equipment and research tents near the site where they were to carry out the excavation, so that's where she went.

The sight of Robb among several other people she knew well did not fill her with optimism.

Her ex-boyfriend lowered his gaze as she approached their professor, who was just talking to one of the museum workers from the fortress they were about to research. Professor Addams smiled at the sight of her.

"Miss Strong! It is wonderful that you have made it. Will your friend also arrive as planned?" He asked lightly, and Robb looked at them surprised, tense.

"Yes, my boyfriend will be here soon. I also wanted to ask if he could spend the night in my room. We'll both be more comfortable that way." She said without stammering, making her ex-boyfriend turn pale and red all at the same time.

Their professor laughed and nodded.

"It's your room and you're adults after all. Just remember to focus on work, not dating." He said and she smiled involuntarily, casting a defiant glance at the boy she once thought would change her life.

"We will, Professor."

She turned as she heard someone's footsteps and beamed all over as she saw her uncle, clearly terrified and excited, throwing a menacing, displeased look at Robb.

"Speak of the devil. Today we'll just set up the equipment and figure out the details, work will start tomorrow. Everyone is to be here at eight in the morning right after breakfast. Get some shopping done at a nearby supermarket and get a good night's sleep." Their professor said.

She knew that surely the last thing awaiting her that night was sleep.

She was not mistaken – the moment they crossed the threshold of their room her uncle literally threw himself at her.

There was something animal and primal in the way he tore off her clothes, in his gaze black with desire, in his loud, heavy breath as he finally exposed her entire naked body, something he should never see, should never desire, should never have.

And yet.

For a moment he just stared at her, breathing loudly, as if he wanted to remember this moment, her, exposed beneath him – his hand ran slowly over her cheek, along her jawline and neck, sliding down between her breasts to her stomach.

It seemed obvious to her that the time for quiet, slow, tender lovemaking would come later, once the sun had set, once they were both just writhing in each other's embrace, unable to separate.

Now, however, they were hot with desire that burned their skin, and his lips, swollen with lust, after a moment clamped down on her hard, sensitive nipple, sucking on it as greedily as if there was no tomorrow to come.

She moaned loudly, too loudly when his fingers slid down her stomach, deep between her thighs, finding her hot, throbbing, leaking pussy at last, her hands pressing his face to her chest.

"– I hate that son of a bitch – I hate the way he looks at you – as if he's the one who wants to protect you – as if he's the one who knows what you need – bullshit –" He hissed furiously between the licks of his tongue, the tips of his fingers digging into the silky, moist skin of her swollen folds.

She whimpered, spreading her thighs wider, feeling the arousal fill her belly at the thought of how jealous he was of her.

Even when he was with another woman, he dreamt that she was the one lying beneath him.

She could not allow him to doubt the depth of her feelings, to doubt her intention or her fidelity.

"– I don't care about him, uncle – you can kiss me in his presence if that's what you want –" She cooed innocently, looking up at him with her lips parted in deep breaths, his dark gaze clouded and filled with something that sent a shiver through her.

He pulled away from her, as if her words had brought him to an edge from which there was no turning back, his nimble fingers quickly undoing the belt from his trousers and his zipper.

All she could do was, in a natural, simple reflex, spread her thighs even wider in front of him and entwine her legs on his back as he leaned down, sliding the material of his boxers lower, releasing his throbbing, fat erection.

Holding the base of his cock in his hand he guided the thick, pink head of it, leaking from his precum, onto her heat, teasing it, soaking his manhood in her wetness to use it as a lube.

"– may I? –" He asked in a trembling voice, leaning on his elbow right next to her head, and she nodded quickly, not knowing what else she could say.

"– ah –" She gasped along with him, running her fingers through the fabric of his t-shirt on his back as he sank into her with one, slow, sure thrust.

He slid into her with astonishing ease, and her slickness made him start to move inside her immediately, as if the warmth of her clenching walls had awakened some primal instinct in him, ordering him to just take what he wanted.

Nothing more than whimpers and grunts escaped their lips as their hips began to slam against each other with loud clicks of her wetness, his erection so fat and swollen that she barely fit it inside her, his forehead pressed against her.

His scent, his neck into which she snuggled her face as he thrust into her again and again with lewd slaps, his body lying on top of her, all of it was so familiar, so longed for.

"– Aemond –" She breathed out, tilting her head back, enclosing him in the helpless embrace of her body, feeling him with her whole self at last, connecting with him the way she had always wanted to, the bed beneath them creaking loudly.

"– fuck – fuck, baby – I missed you –" He mumbled with difficulty, quickening his pace, with each push rubbing the tip of his erection against the spot inside her from where she could see the stars.

"– I missed you too –" She confessed in shame, listening to the perverted sound of him opening her wide on his cock with wet clicks of her moisture.

He surprised her when he suddenly took her legs in his hands, forcing her to take a new position, putting her knees on his shoulders.

She moaned in shock as he began to move inside her anew with a loud slaps of their hips, feeling a flash of pleasure flow through her body again and again.

Her insides began to squeeze his manhood in delight, pulling high pitched, boyish moans of pleasure from his throat, his lips parted wide, his brow arched as if he was in pain.

"– you're so beautiful – I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you –" He exhaled, no longer sliding out of her, all sticky from her moisture, invading her insides with violent, sharp, quick stabs from which she threw her head back.

"– Aemond, God, yes, yes, yes, here, fuck me here, ah –" She mewled, writhing beneath him in ecstasy, feeling the tension in her lower abdomen and her throbbing pussy about to reach its peak.

He leaned over her, pressing her body against the bed with her own thighs in a position where her calves were at the level of her head.

She clenched her fingers against his back, moaning helplessly as she felt the pressure on her clit from which tears pooled under her eyelids, each successive thrust of his hips sending her body into a state of ecstasy which forced him to close her mouth with his.

"– shhh – shhh, baby, not so loud – mmm – I know – your uncle is close too –" He breathed out into her throat between loud, sticky kisses full of their slick tongues, hearing her squeal of pleasure.

Tears of relief ran down her cheeks red from exertion as her body was shaken by such a powerful orgasm that she just burst out crying.

She heard his loud moans and panting, felt how aggressively his cock pulsed inside her, filling her with his release, how their bodies convulsed as a wave of her moisture flowed out of her, so much that they both drew in air loudly, his face pressed against her hot cheek.

"– 'm sorry –" She muttered embarrassed, not fully understanding what had happened, the wet, large stain under her buttocks made her uncomfortable.

"– it's okay – it's okay, baby – it's okay –" He whispered tenderly, placing loud, sticky kisses on her face.

"– uh – what have you done to me? – we'll have to change the sheets now –" She sighed, combing her fingers through his short hair in an attempt to calm herself, the last waves of pleasant warmth and tickling flowed through her body, putting her in a state of perfect bliss.

She dropped her legs lower, returning to her original position, allowing him to lie between her thighs and she squirmed when he suddenly lifted her by the buttocks and stood up with her.

"– don't worry – we'll just sleep on the other bed – see? –" He hummed, heading with her towards the single bed on the other side, laying down on his back with a sigh of exertion.

She spread herself comfortably on top of him, placing her palm on his shoulder, letting his hands wander over her bare body.

"– can I stay inside you? – you're so warm –" He mumbled like a little boy, and she nodded, dreaming of nothing else.

"– yes –" She whispered, lying with her eyes closed, concentrating on the smell of his perfume and his sweat, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

She heard him let out a loud breath, something like delight and relief in his words.

"– this is the most beautiful day of my life –"

______

Author notes: You can thank my husband for the last scene, lol. He did things to me.

[dunmeshistash]

My post about animal loving in Dungeon Meshi got a lot of traction (and I'm very happy so many people resonated with it) but I did leave out details that were too specific to the personal situation of the characters since I wanted to write something that was easy to understand by someone that had only seen up to that episode, since the episode about Senshi's past wasn't out yet, and because I wanted to focus on that subject as it related to that scene.

Ofc Senshi's relationship to Anne was more complex, he named her after the pony his party had to eat and he probably saw Anne the pony in the Anne the Kelpie, I think that would fit better in a Senshi analysis than an Anne the Kelpie analysis. There's also the fact that even tho Laios *knows* monsters are unpredictable and wild he thought he could control Kensuke which backfired during the dragon fight.

But those details I don't think added much to my line of thought, the way people justify why they think an animal is special varies a lot and can be rooted in past trauma, but the complexity of the relationship is one-sided. Not to say you can't have complex feelings about an animal, as long as at the end you understand them and their needs.

The Laios thing wasn't quite the same but it was also part of our relationship to animals tbh, I was analyzing it thru a lens of love and Laios does love Kensuke as an animal, but he also thought it was an animal he could control, which I also think it's human nature, he thought since he "understood" Kensuke he could control it, but he says so himself, he doesn't know how monsters think.

I think this one relates more to people that have so much experience with an animal that they forget wild animals are still unpredictable, a "perfectly trained" Lion is still capable of biting your head off even if it didn't the last 100 times.

I really enjoy how Laios reacts to it after he suffers the consequences tho

He never takes it personally when he suffers because of a monster, even towards the Red Dragon he never reacts in anger as if he needs to "take revenge" on the dragon and even tho Kensuke "betrayed" him he still feels sorry when he thinks he might have harmed him later on.

The thing he says about trying to find an use to living monsters reminds me of another Kui work. it's a great read and made me think a lot, chapter 8 from 'the dragon school is on top of the mountain' (Another option if you can't open mangadex)

This got longer than I intended and I'm not going anywhere with it, I just love animals and talking about loving them.

[quickstappen]

track 001: when all hell breaks loose

A/N: this is my first one, it was supposed to be y/n BUT i just didn't like how it looked? idk, i needed to have a name so everyone meet Marceline ;))

masterlist | next

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and others

marcilazzaro1 new day, new city! explored zandvoort today before coming back for media duties ;)

(charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 i am watching you, do not make my life harder this week)

see all comments...

carlandoo333 she's so mother i can't

pierregasly so i don't get credit for the photos?

↳ marcilazzaro1 everyone knows you're my personal photographer love

pierregasly belle, mon ange 🤍

↳ marcilazzaro1 grazie 🤍

↳ ilpredestinatox I JUST WANT EHAT THEY HAVE

babygirll oh no! i was at that caffè today, i can't believe i missed them!

maxverstappen1 they can't stop themselves, it's in their blood

↳ marcilazzaro1 maybe if you stopped distracting a certain someone during his interviews he'd actually do a good job

↳maxverstappen1 eh

lilymhe are we still on for drinks after FP2?

↳ marcilazzaro1 lily, love of my life, of course we are

↳ alexalbon excuse me? i'm the boyfriend here

↳ marcilazzaro1 not for long now albono ;)

sheilaxf1 I'm so here for lily and marci being the ultimate girlfriends

↳ landoscar814 they are iconic

charles_leclerc when have i ever made your life difficult

↳ marcilazzaro1 you want that alphabetically or chronologically??

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marcilazzaro1 added to their story!

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and others

marcilazzaro1 and that's another podium in the bag! bébé i am so proud of you, you have no idea. my heat speeds up every time i see your happy smile, every time i feel like i'm drunk on the champagne with you 🥂 here's to many more, i love you completely 🤍

see all comments...

pierregasly it's a pleasure to share this journey with you mon ange, i can't wait for the next chapter 🤍

↳ marcilazzaro1 🤍🥂

sundaylover okay whos cutting up onions and shit

hammertime_1 oh yeah she is in looooovee love

maxverstappen1 what about my podium?

↳ marcilazzaro1 redbull is spoiling you enough and j already texted you, stop fishing

↳ cuddlyxricc i absolutely love their friendship

↳ byelandoo right?? i feel like she's the only media person he doesn't automatically hate ↳ cuddlyxricc the fact that she's works for ferrari and not redbull makes it even funnier i swear ↳ byelandoo christian is having an aneurysm as we speak

danielricciardo see you at the after party (you have to convince him to do a shoey)

↳ marcilazzaro1 ah, i fear that i will not make it to the party, i still have work to do daniel ;) but you guys enjoy yourselves. and watch out for the hand please, will you?

elplanxincoming am i the only one or was Pierre's comment kinda weak after the WHOLE PARAGRAPH she wrote??

↳ sunshine_dr3 god i didn't want to say anything but yeah, it feels forced almost

ilpredestinatox the story is definitely working, Charles looks so good i don't even remember the race

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marci's messages

Marci: where are you? are you still at the party?

Esteban: No.

Esteban: Me, Lance and Mick are all in my room.

Marci: Can I come?

Esteban: Aren't you supposed to be surprising your boyfriend?

Marci: I guess I already did.

Marci: I already packed my stuff, I don't really have anywhere to go. Ferrari doesn't have the extra room for me this weekend and the hotel is packed.

Esteban: Merde, Marci. Of course you can come here, I'll even let you have the bed.

Marci: Thank you, Este.

PF: That's all I have.

PF: For what it's worth, I really am sorry that this hapened.

Marci: Still, you ALL lied to me and treated me like an idiot.

Marci: So really, your "sorry" doesn't mean shit now, does it?

PF: Why do you think I took those photos?

PF: I wanted to tell you. So many times.

Marci: Why didn't you then?

PF: I'm sorry.

Marci: You know what, fuck you.

Marci: You're lucky I didn't expose all of you. You all knew what he was doing and none of you said anything. That's fucked and you know it.

marcilazzaro1 added to their story!

marci's messages:

Pierre: Baby, what's going on?

Pierre: Where are you?

Marci: Why, is your friend already gone? What, didn't stay the night?

Pierre: What are you talking about?

Marci: Spare me, Pierre. You know exacly what I'm talking about.

Marci: If you need a reminder I'm sure that twitter's ready to jog your memory.

Pierre: What the fuck Marceline

Pierre: What the hell did you do?!

Pierre: Merde

Pierre: Are you actually insane?? This is a PR nightmare, you KNOW this

Pierre: You have to delete those

Marci: Oh yeah, I don't think so.

Marci: I already apologized to your media team for the chaos, I ain't deleting shit.

Pierre: You're a bitch, Marceline

Marci: Fuck you, you absolute scumbag.

Adam: You get a week of PTO

Adam: It's a non-negotiable order from upstairs so, yeah. See you next week. Go relax, wind down. Heal.

Adam: We're all sorry that this happened to you, the media team is standing with you.

Marci: Thank you, Adam.

Marci: Also, what does "upstairs" mean?

Adam: Fred's orders.

liked by sebastianvettel, lance_stroll and others

marcilazzaro1 some much needed home time on the big boss' orders ;)) thank you for your kind words and support, see you soon everyone.

see all comments...

charlies_sun we're all with you marci 🤍

scuderiaferrari Big boss says to rest up and come back stronger!

↳marcilazzaro1 got it 🤠

↳ilpredestinatox this is so sweet

sheilaxf1 i just don't understand how could he do this to her

↳hammertime_1 RIGHTT???

danielricciardo the personalised dart board and dr3 wine are already on their way

↳marcilazzaro1 thank you Daniel! it's much appreciated

danielricciardo everybody loves a farm girl 🤠

↳marcilazzaro1 do they now?

↳lestappen116 are they...... flirting?

↳ilpredestinatox GIRL, bfr her and pierre JUST broke up, besides idk, i've always had a feeling that he gives her the ick? idk

sundaylover how does she look so GOOD??

↳carlando333 she's so mother i can't-

michael_44 oh boo hoo, she's been cheated on. that's no reason to slack off on her work

↳elplanxincoming oh fuck off

maxverstappen1 there might be an incident at T1 at Monza, just say the word

↳marcilazzaro1 thank you maxie, but that won't ne nessecary 🧡

brunolazzaro03 good to have you home, even if you're stealing all my ice cream

↳marcilazzaro1 come on, mum said i can have them

redleclerc_ the fact that Charles hasn't commented is deeply upsetting to me

↳ quickstappen i meann.... not surprising considering it's his best friend we're talking about

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marci's message:

Claire: Hello, this is Claire. We spoke on instagram.

Marci: Yes, we did. Im Marceline.

Claire: I know.

Claire: Look, I'm sorry that this happened.

Claire: I really am.

Marci: Stop please

Marci: Can you just explain it to me from the beginning?

Claire: Yeah, sure. Of course.

Claire: I met Pierre at a party in Milan that I went to with my friends.

Marci: When was that?

Claire: Last June

Claire: I think.

Marci: Okay

Claire: I'm sorry.

Claire: Anyway, we met and he was really shocked that I didn't know who he was. And I really HAD no idea who he was.

Claire: He said he worked in motorsports, I've never qustioned it and never tried to search for him.

Marci: Why didn't you look for him?

Claire: Honestly? I didn't care enough. For me it was just sex.

Claire: I didn't even know his last name. Just had his phone number.

Marci: And you met up multiple times?

Claire: Yeah, whenever he was in Milan. I swear I didn't know he had a girlfriend. He said he was single when we first met.

Marci: Well, we started dating in 2019 so... he definitely wasn't.

Claire: I am so sorry Marceline.

Claire: I found out about you from twitter. There was this hashtag trending and suddenly there was this picture of me plastered all over my timeline.

Claire: I've tried to understand what's going on, and I found out I've been screwing someone's boyfriend for the last year. God I'm so disgusted with myself.

Marci: Don't be, please.

Claire: I swear I wouldn't get with him if I knew that he was taken.

Marci: I don't blame you Claire. Any of you. It's not like you MADE him do it.

Marci: Thank you for contacting me, serioulsy.

Claire: It's the least I could do, I didn't see another option.

Claire: Text me whenever you need and I'll try to shine some light on things.

madi's radio: hello, that's a first smau in a series, so if you want to be notified about the next parts just dm me, i'll set something more efficient up later ;))

click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Part 5

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Chapter 4 -- Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

You're in the hallway when you hear Clay say his goodbyes to Jake with a promise to visit. It's now just the two of you, the part of the night you've been dreading. You step out to where Jake can see you, keeping your head down.

Jake takes several tries to start talking. Seeing you like this, he gets what Clay saw. It's a splash of cold water on the rage he had initially felt during your "wedding". Where he thought he had seen disappointment and coldness he now sees timidity and fear. Jake has been perceived as many things, annoying, intelligent, dorky, but never scary. He definitely doesn't like that you're scared of him.

"I, uh, I guess we should choose our rooms?" he finally says, making your brows knit in confusion. "I...I know we're..." he gestures at the two of you. "But you...I...we don't have to do anything you don't want." Your eyes widen in surprise and he's quick to add, "it's not because I don't want to, you're beautiful, and I'm sure you're great in bed, and I shouldn't have said that, and I'm sorry, but I'm just so nervous, but I think we'd both sleep better in separate rooms? If that's what you want? Or we can share a bed, if you want, I promise no touching that you don't explicit consent to, and I'm going to stop talking before I make myself look even more awkward than I feel."

He's rubbing the back of his head, cheeks pink, eyes down, clearly uncomfortable. He almost looks more like a teenage boy trying to ask out a pretty girl as opposed to the angry, hateful monster you were certain you'd married. You want to chuckle but the suddenness of the transformation leaves you even more on edge. Is his offer of separate rooms genuine or a trick? You want, so desperately to believe him, but can you?

Remembering the layout of the penthouse, however, gives you an out. "There's only one bed," you inform him. "The other rooms have couches or chairs, but no beds."

"Seriously?" Jake asks. "Why would they do that?"

"My...my guess is that they want to...ensure...that, that we..." you imitate his earlier gesture indicating the both of you and his eyes widen in realization.

"Well, damn," he mumbles. "I'll go ahead and sleep on the couch then, okay?"

"Are you sure? They look like they're meant for looks more than comfort."

Jake gives a soft huff, "I spent enough time in the military that I can sleep anywhere, I promise."

"You're in the military?"

"Formerly," Jake replies. "It's how I met Clay. And it's a very long story that can wait for some other time."

"It's impressive," you admit. Most of the men in your life were the type to act tough but would never actually go through with something as harsh as military training.

Jake blushes again, "well, it's no Masters Degree in ecology. That's a lot of hitting the books! Never was my forte, preferred hands on learning, which is why I never did well at school and I'm rambling again. Sorry about that."

You feel the heat rush to your face. No one's ever acknowledged your degree outside of claiming it was a waste of time and money. You really hope his compliments are sincere, but are still careful to not take them fully to heart. It could easily be another manipulation tactic.

"Thank you," you tell him. "I'll be happy to split the bedding and make sure the guest bathroom has toiletries."

"You don't need to do that," he shakes his head. "I've made do with a lot less and, most importantly, you're not the maid. You don't have to take care of me like that." You open your mouth but kind find the words to respond. He continues, "oh, did you want me to cook breakfast in the morning? I doubt it'll be as good as you cook, that pasta was awesome, but I can do some cooking and you shouldn't have to cook everything, especially not for someone who can cook for themselves, but I also don't want to intrude because you know where everything is and if you prefer to have the kitchen to yourself I completely understand, I just wanna help you out because we're in this together and..." Jake's face scrunches up in a wince, "and I'm rambling again. I'm so sorry."

"Whoever wakes up first makes breakfast?" you propose.

"I like it," he nods.

You go to get some blankets and pillows for him and he waits outside the door to the bedroom. When you give him a quizzical look he replies, "it's your room. I'm not entering without permission." Giving him a contemplative nod, you thank him before handing him everything.

"Goodnight," he tells you. "I hope you sleep well."

"You too," you tell him as diplomatically as you can.

He heads to one of the other rooms and you close the door to the master bedroom suite, your bedroom. As tiring as the day has been, you're not sure you're getting sleep any time soon. Your husband has given you much to think about.

Chapter 4 -- Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn;

@icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[idesofrevolution]

The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

[ronearoundblindly]

For Cevans + Bucky.. I curious what is each of their ‘toxic traits’ or ‘red flags’ in a relationship… assuming characters like Lloyd do find themselves in an actual monogamous relationship. Whether it’s jealousy, excessive possessiveness, manipulative behavior.. etc I’m curious to know your thoughts on whose what 🥰🖤

o.0 ok this is interesting...

And since you specifically brought him up, I'll start with Lloyd--Warnings for sexual references and toxic behaviors. MINORS DNI.

Lloyd Hansen

Not sure if there's a name for this trait, but I believe Lloyd would have a huge issue merging sex and feelings. He can fuck without thinking and be selfish. If he grows to actually respect someone?? Well...if he does care, I'm not sure he can bring himself to use a partner the same way he would a throwaway hole. Lloyd might have a bit of trouble bringing that pedestal down once he puts you up there.

That's what was so beautiful and easy for him before: he never cared; he could just enjoy himself and not give a shit about anyone else. This might lead to him finding release with others (cheating) when he can't bring himself to treat you the same way he did before catching feelings.

Steve Rogers

Passivity. (Is that a real word for this? Whoops.)

He's so patient and so stoic and so fucking passive, you just want to wring his neck sometimes. He will not ask if/when something seems off/awkward between you. Steve just waits for you to bring it up if you ever do. He doesn't really take charge inside your relationship. He will answer any question you pose straight to him, but otherwise, fucking nothing.

Bucky Barnes

Doomsday mindset. Buck spirals like crazy and always assumes the worst. If you laugh really loud at someone else's joke? You like them better. You're going to leave him. If you don't text or call him for one day? You don't want to talk to him, aren't thinking about him, and have moved on.

He relies heavily on proximity to assuage these fears, so leaving on extended missions is akin to torture. There's always a period of having to smother him in reassurance once he returns. Every. Single. Time.

James Mace

His greatest strength is his greatest weakness: practicality.

Mace is the fucking worst at casual romance; I bet you didn't even know this guy liked you until his tongue was deep in your mouth. It all seemed just professional, or just friendly, until suddenly it didn't, meaning Mace offers zero reassurance that you two are going anywhere. He may assume you two are fine...all the time...because he said he was fine and happy that one time three months ago. That's good enough, right?

Y'all know I love this boi to the sun and back, but his emotional openness is extremely lacking. He's the type I can see being broken up with A LOT simply because he won't fight to stay together/connected. He takes it for granted that you are together.

Curtis Everett

Lack of communication. Curtis will let things fester until the last second. He is a bit of a procrastinator when it comes to everything, bless, but Curtis is not a fan of deep and emotional conversations. This can--and often does--make you feel like your relationship develops super slowly and isn't solid/stable. He cares for you, but it's difficult to tell if you two are ever on exactly the same page until the end of the chapter. Playing catchup is frustrating.

Jimmy Dobyne

Womp. My least favorite of the toxic traits (weirdly, because it's not even the actual worst)--Jimmy is that old-school, typical man who expects a certain amount of subservience from his partner. He's not going to cook if you're there. He's not going to clean when you can instead. When it comes to you're own kids, he's defers to you unless specifically asked (when alone), not when in public.

And that's really the problem with this behavior: it looks to outsiders that he treats you equally and pulls his weight because he absolutely can. He just defaults to being the breadwinner/man of the house.

This could be overcome but only if you force the conversation a bunch of times. You work and are tired at the end of the day, but for some reason it's 'different' when he is tired from working and unwilling to do anything at the end of the day.

Johnny Storm

Petty, mindgame, stereotypical manipulations. Johnny is notoriously 'in-tune' with the ladies, but he is SO USED TO bimbos who play the games of dating (i.e. acting uninterested to make men chase them, saying the opposite of what they mean, etc.) that he plays them, too. He doesn't act as interested as he is. He plays it cool and hard to get and indifferent. He behaves as if any decent amount of time and affection is smothering and clingy. He doesn't let himself be vulnerable in any way...

...until well after most girls would have given up.

Jake Jensen

Insecurity. He's inexperienced and second-guesses everything he does. He takes advise from all the wrong people and gets it from places. Jake is not confident enough to trust his instincts, and it gets him into more trouble than he even realizes. After an extremely long time (and endless patience from his partner), Jake comes into his own, gets comfortable, and might take the lead every now and then.

Ari Levinson

Excessive possessiveness 100%. I've touched on this in a B&B story, but Ari doesn't own a whole lot. One of those few things is you.

I actually believe he's able to tamp this urge down a good portion of the time. However, if Ari is worn down or drunk, he can't moderate that you are his, he wants you right here, and he will fucking fight. You have to keep him on his best behavior around newer friends or business folk. He doesn't understand that professional courtesy might look similar to flirting. Sometimes you'll need to butter up men, but you'll also need Ari to not be around for that.

Ransom Drysdale

Also possessive but mostly JEALOUS. Jealous to the point a frequent stocking stuffer at xmastime is Jelly Bellies. It's a running joke; even if he doesn't particularly like every flavor in the bag, they are his jelly beans. Ran won't share. He fucking hates it. He hates sharing you for any amount of time or reason. Having family and friends is vaguely okay (male friends...eh, attractive male friends can eat shit), but having coworkers who get your attention? Fuck right off with that. Come home to him. Hold his hand. Sit in his lap. Don't smile at that person. Don't go out when you could stay with him.

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[kkyaka]

Chapter 4: Resolving The Conflict

Summary: Aomine works on himself for the sake of your relationship, but even after all of this time, you realize that you've never truly sat down with your feelings and hashed them out. You work on your conflicting feelings, deciding that it's your turn to figure things out to come to the truth. Word Count: 10,182 Warnings: more angst lol, (sorry), reader is really conflicted about her feelings with aomine, lots of kissing, aomine is very whipped for you, reader confronts an oc, lots of fluffly moments, smut at the end, unprotected sex, oral (f), multiple orgasms, fingering, pull out method A/N: And this is the end! Thank you so much for reading if you stayed for this long lmao

MASTERLIST

After getting an earful from his coaches, he wasn't allowed to do any training or go to practice until he was fully recovered. Of course, there were some days when he found himself at the stadium because there was no way he going to be able to stay away for that long. He didn't play, but at this point, he was fine with just watching. All of his teammates checked up on him when he would visit, and he appreciated it even though he pretended like he didn't care for it.

Things with you are slow going, but the tension between the two of you isn't like when he lied to you the last time. It's hard for things to go back to normal or the way they used to be, but Aomine tells himself to calm down this time. He feels like he's been jumping into this thing with you with absolutely no direction, and that hasn't led him anywhere beneficial. He's been going to therapy, which surprises you, but after everything he just went through, he feels like it's the first step in the right direction.

He said that he wanted to be a better father and a better man, and right now, he feels like therapy is the best thing he can do for all of you. It's definitely helping, and Aomine is slowly starting to feel like himself. Over the course of a couple of months, he doesn't push anything with you, staying friendly, but he can't help but feel happy that he's slowly getting somewhere with you that doesn't fuel his delusion.

He's finally cleared to start practicing after what feels like forever, so that means that you're back to taking Taj to school and picking him up. You pull up once the car in front of you leaves, and you recognize the teacher who comes into view. She already knows who you are, but instead of talking to her walkie, she motions for you to roll down your window. You frown but do so as you slow to a stop.

"You're gonna have to come inside. It's about Taj." You don't know what to think, and you're definitely worried, but you drive off and park after she backs away from the car. You get out, locking the door, and she tells another teacher to take over as she walks with you into the school.

She guides you into the office, and the woman at the front desk guides you to where Taj is. Your eyebrows raise when you see that she's taking you to the principals office, and she opens the door for you. The moment you step inside, Taj is running into you, wrapping his arms around you. It almost knocks you over as you look down, resting your hands on him.

"Taj? Are you okay?" you ask, but before you can get an answer, someone speaks up.

"Are you his mother?" You look in the direction of the voice, your eyes landing on a woman sitting next to who you assume is her son, but you instantly detect attitude in her voice.

"I'm sorry is there a problem?" you question quickly, not even bothering to answer her question, and the principal walks in.

"Mrs. Aomine, you're finally here."

"No, I'm not--" you start,  waving your hand. "I'm just his babysitter." Taj still hasn't let go of you, and you look down at him again.

"Where is his father?" she asks, and you want to focus on Taj, but you've got so much running through your head.

"He's probably not gonna make it," you barely manage, and you're finally able to sit down, but Taj doesn't let go of you, crawling into your lap and burying his face into your neck.

"That could probably explain his actions," the woman spits.

"Okay, what is your problem?" you fume. "What is going on?"

The principal sighs, rubbing her fingers over her forehead. "Taj and Bradley here had a little altercation."

"Altercation?! My son was hit hard multiple times by that--"

"I'm gonna stop you right there!" you start, trying very hard not to raise your voice. "You say anything else about him, I will personally make sure that--"

"Ladies, please," the principal interrupts. "Apparently from what I heard from their teacher is that Bradley said something to Taj, and in response, Taj hit him."

"What did he say?" you ask, rubbing your hand over Taj's back.

She sheake her head. "He wouldn't say."

You look down, trying to softly urge Taj to look at you. "Taj, sweetie, look at me," you whisper quietly, and you can hear him sniffle before he looks up, and you feel your heart drop at the same time your blood boils when you see how red his eyes are. "Can you tell me what Bradley said to you? You won't be in trouble, I promise."

"It was probably--"

"Shut. Up. I am talking to Taj. Not you." You shut her down quickly and sternly before you look down at Taj.

"He said," he starts, but you can't hear him.

"Taj, you gotta speak up so Ms. Thompson can hear you too."

He takes a couple of deep breaths before he answers. "He said that the only reason you're here is because my parents don't want me. That my dad would rather play basketball than be my dad."

If there's ever a moment where you've had to actually refrained from hitting someone, it would be in this moment. Your head immediately turns to Bradley's mother, and you both her and her son the meanest look you can muster.

She fidgets awkwardly in her seat, clearing her throat, but you don't let up on your glare. "Bradley, is that true?" Ms. Thompson asks.

Bradley doesn't answer right away, and his mother chuckles a little as she nudges her son. "Come on, Bradley, tell her the truth."

He drops his head before he nods. "Yeah." Taj's grip on you tightens, and if you weren't holding him and if Bradley wasn't in the room right now, you would beat this woman until she's unrecognizable. You know a lot of the moms talk shit, especially the ones that think they're better than everyone. But the fact that they're doing this in front of their kids is what really pisses you off.

The principal releases another sigh, this one laden with disappointment. "Bradley, you know that isn't tolerated. And that was a very inappropriate thing to say to someone." He doesn't look up. "I want you to apologize to Taj."

"He should apologize--"

"I think you've said enough, Mrs. Hall. We all know where your son got that from." That shuts her up immediately, the woman balking slightly. "Bradley?" she prompts.

"I-I'm sorry, Taj. I shouldn't have said that."

"You do realize there will be consequences for this, right, Bradley?" He's silent as he nods again. You kiss the top of Taj's forehead, your mind still racing with anger, and Ms. Thompson dismisses Bradley and his mother. She gives you an ugly look that you return as she walks out, practically pulling her son out of the room.

"I am so sorry," she apologizes, and you shake your head as you stand with Taj in your arms since he won't let you go.

"It wasn't your fault." It's all you can say, but you don't even know what else to say; you just want to get Taj home. "But he probably is gonna have to stay home, right?"

"I wasn't going to say that," she denies as she shakes her head. "I think suspending both of the boys will do more harm than good in this situation," she adds. "But if he doesn't come to school tomorrow, I won't blame him."

You nod, giving her a small smile. "Thank you. You have a good rest of your day." She gives you a slightly sad smile as she looks over Taj before you walk out of the room. He's silent as you walk to the car, but you know he's crying again.

You buckle him up in the car, and he rubs at his face. You get some tissues, handing it to him so he can blow his nose, and there's steam practically coming out of your ears when you hear a familiar voice. "I'll be right back, okay?" you tell Taj softly, rubbing over his head before you kiss him on the forehead.

You close the door, turning around in time to see Mrs. Hall walking towards you. You move quickly, stopping her in her tracks. "You're a fucking bitch. If Taj nor Bradley was in that fucking room, I'd make you kiss your own ass." You get into her face, pointing a finger at her. "You have some fucking audacity to talk about Taj, and honestly you deserve to get hit in your fucking mouth.

"You are not better than any of the other parents here, and the fact that you think you can talk about a child like that is absolutely disgusting. And the fact that your son is around when you talk like is even more pathetic," you continue, and you're reveling in the fact that she has nothing to say.

You take a step every time she backs up. "I don't blame your son too much because he was just repeating what he was hearing, but you are two seconds away from getting beat until you are unrecognizable. And yeah that is a threat, bitch."

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" You turn around when you feel someone touch your arms, looking over your shoulder to see Aomine behind you. You barely pay attention to him, focusing back on the woman in front of you.

"You think you have it all when your husband's fucking cheating on you with your fucking nanny," you throw out, which is a low blow, but hey she needed to hear it. And apparently she had no clue because her face pales. It pays off to listen to gossip. "Funny how you say I'm only here because Taj's parents don't want him, but yours is about to be the reason why Bradley's parents aren't together anymore."

"Excuse me? You said what?" Aomine speaks up. You brush Aomine off of you, getting in her face one last time.

"So, evaluate yourself before you talk about people. Because if you ever say shit about my son again, I'll make you regret it for the rest of you life."

You quickly turn on your heel, walking back to your car, and your hands are shaking from how mad you are. Aomine carefully grabs your wrist, stopping you and turning you around. "Hey, hey. What was that all about?"

You take a couple of deep breaths, closing your eyes as you try to calm yourself down because you definitely can't drive with all this adrenaline running through you. "Why are you here?"

"The school called me, but I didn't hear my phone. I got here as soon as I could," he explains. "Did she really say that about Taj?"

"Her son did, but he definitely heard it from her. He said that you'd rather play basketball than be his dad," you scoff. "Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath, and Aomine feels disgust with himself build up inside of his chest. He's been feeling his a lot lately, but it's is own fault. It builds up so fast that it makes it hard for him to swallow.

"I gotta get Taj home, okay? He's had a rough day." You break him out of his thoughts, and he lets you go without much of a fight. When you walk around the car to the driver's side, Taj doesn't even look at him, and Aomine can see himself in the reflection of the window, and it causes him to stand in the parking lot after you leave at a loss.

He stands there, not keeping track of time, beating himself up. Since you've come along and therapy, he's had plenty of reality checks, but this one hits him harder than most. He can deal with people talking about him, but there's no way he can tolerate people talking about his son. He doesn't even know how Taj is going to recover from this; there's only so much he can take.

Aomine doesn't even know how he managed to make it home; he doesn't remember driving. It's like he's on autopilot as he gets out his car and unlocks the front door before walking in the house. It's empty when he closes the door behind him, and he figures the both of you are in Taj's room. He doesn't even know if he wants to go in there. Taj probably doesn't want anything to do with him anymore.

You walk into the living room about twenty minutes later, and the tension in the air is tight as neither of you says anything. "He's sleeping right now, but I'm gonna stay with him for a while. I don't wanna leave him alone right now."

Aomine nods, but he doesn't look at you. He's sitting on the couch, staring at the black screen of the TV. "I'm gonna get Taj a therapist," he speaks, and his words hang in the air. "I just--he's had so much happen to him, I--"

Aomine exhales sharply as he shakes his head, at a loss for words. "He's just a kid, and I don't want him to turn out some kinda way because I'm a shitty father."

"That's probably a good idea," you answer. You run your hand over your head before you shake it. You turn to go back to Taj's room, but Aomine's words stop you.

"You called Taj your son earlier." You freeze, and Aomine doesn't look away from the TV, but he's smiling a bit.

"It was just a heat of the moment thing--"

"But he's your son more than he his mine at this point," he interjects. "You've probably done more with him and been in his life more than I have, and you haven't even been here a year." He huffs, the smile on his face borderline self-deprecating. "I should've signed those papers the moment I got him," he whispers. "I should've known I was never gonna change."

You don't say anything in response even though you can hear him loud and clear. "And I don't think I've seen you get that pissed since you broke up with me," he chuckles.

You move to stand in front of him with a heavy sigh, but he doesn't move. You lean forward, taking his chin in your hand and lifting his head up. "That's it?" you ask, your voice low.

Aomine frowns a bit. "You went through all of this just to give up?" you question. "You let me walk out the door years ago, and now you're gonna give up on Taj?"

Aomine slumps a little despite already being pretty relaxed. "God, Aomine what happened to you? Since when do you give up this easily?" you ask. "You weren't getting playing time at first in high school, but you continued to practice. You chased me for months until I finally agree on a date with you." His facial expression doesn't change. "What happened?"

"I lost the best thing to happen to me. And even though she showed up in my life again, I still managed to fuck it up." You'd have to be the dumbest person alive to not know he's talking to you. "I keep hurting the people I love." Your breath catches a bit in your chest as your eyes dart between his.

"You love me?" you breathe.

"I never stopped."

You don't know what to say in response, but you don't hesitate before you make your next move.

You rest both of your hands on the back of the couch next to his head, and you just look at him, your breathing the only thing you can hear. He keeps his eyes on yours, and before you can convince yourself to back out, you gently let your lips touch his. You can tell it takes him by surprise at first because he doesn't react immediately, but it doesn't take long for his brain to finally catch up.

He lifts his hands to rest on your face, and it feels like you're in high school all over again. You knew there was a part of you that missed this, but your body is practically singing at that fact that you're kissing him. When your legs start feeling weak, you pull away, scared that you'll get pulled in too deep when neither of you need that right now. Your breathing's picked up, and you can't bring yourself to look at him, so you softly put your forehead on his, putting your hands on his neck.

You slowly open your eyes, nervous to meet his, and you see that he's already looking at you. He rubs his thumbs over your cheek before lifts his head up to kiss you again. You easily fall into him again, and gently pulls you until you're sitting on his lap.

One of his hands rest on your neck while the other holds your waist, and he knew that he missed what it felt like to kiss you, but this is so differently good in so many ways. Your arms wrap around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you further into him.

It's harder for you to pull away this time, but you manage even though you'd rather do anything but. Your heart feels like it's going to be out of your chest as you both breathe heavily, and your hands are shaking when you rest your hands on his face again.

"Well, you did fuck it up," you whisper with a laugh, and your body tingles when he rubs his thumbs over your skin. "But you got another chance, and you won't fuck that up, right?" He copies your smile as he nods softly. "I can find the papers if you really want me to," you continue, and you can barely feel him tense for a split second. "But I know you want to be better for Taj, but, fuck, you have to put in some effort, Aomine," you press. "You can't keep giving up when some shit happens. You have to believe in yourself a little more."

He stays silent, but you don't really expect him to respond to you. It takes a lot of effort, but you finally pull away from him, getting off of him. "I'll let you sleep on it," you finish before you walk out of the living room. Once you're out of his sight, you quickly put your back against the wall, sinking down a bit as you sigh heavily.

"y/n?" You jump when you hear Taj's voice, gasping softly as your hand comes to your chest. He walks over to you, and you immediately move down to his level, and he goes limp against you in your arms.

"Did you sleep well?" you ask and all he gives you is a shrug. "You hungry or anything?" He nods, and even though you've told him multiple times that you don't think you'll be able to pick him up for much longer, you do it anyway. You rub over his back as you walk back into the kitchen, and you didn't see if Aomine was still sitting on the couch, but you try not to hyperfocus on it.

"Anything you want?" you ask, your hand on the handle of the fridge.

"I want the pizza from that place you took me to," he answers quietly.

"Okay, bud. I'll go out and get some, okay?" You try to put him back down, but he doesn't budge.

"Let me go with you." Fuck, your heart shatters the more you hear him speak. He's crushed.

"I'll go," you hear Aomine say softly, and Taj turns his head to the side so he can look at Aomine. Daiki can't even begin to think what's going on in his son's head right now; what ugly thoughts have made their way inside. "What do you usually get?"

"Just cheese." Aomine nods, but he doesn't move just yet. Taj is still looking at him, and Aomine takes a couple of cautious steps forward. He sighs heavily, and you fight back tears as you notice that Aomine's doing the same, blinking rapidly as he throws his head back for a second.

"Taj, I am so sorry," he whispers. "I will always want to be your dad every single day for the rest of our lives. I do not love basketball more than I love you, okay?" Taj gives him a small nod. "What Bradley said to you is nowhere near the truth, alright?" Aomine pauses, wanting to say more, but he can't get the words out like he wants to. Taj wiggles in your grip, and you let him down.

Aomine squats down, and he freezes when Taj hugs him, like he almost can't believe it. He huffs in disbelief as he hugs him back, trying his hardest not to squeeze him like he might disappear right from his arms. "I love you, Taj. I promise I'll be better for you." He sniffs, a couple of tears leaving his eyes as he feels Taj head move with a nod against his shoulder.

"Can we still get pizza?" Taj asks after Aomine has been hugging him for a while. You and Aomine both laugh as he pulls away, and he wipes his face as he stands.

"Yeah, of course we can." You decide that it might be better just to have it delivered, so you gently usher them into the living room while you order the food.

When you're done, you walk back in to see the TV on and both of them sitting on the couch, a cushion in between the two of them. Taj scoots over, which is your sign to sit on the free cushion. He immediately moves into your space, which you don't mind, and you try not to focus on how close you're sitting to Aomine.

You honestly don't know why you kissed Aomine. You try to find the reason, but your mind just goes blank every time you try and find one. For a split second, you blame Aomine; you got too close to him, and he just kept drawing you in. He's always been so good at that, but you know that kissing him wasn't entirely his fault.

What happens now though? You feel like you skipped a bunch of steps, and now you're in no man's land. You don't know how to go further with someone that you already have history with. You don't know if your doubts are coming from that fact or the fact that Aomine's hurt you in the past. You try your best not to let your hurt emotions get the best of your thoughts, but it's still something you've thought about since you said you'd give Aomine another chance.

A knock at the door snaps you out of your thoughts, and you all eat the pizza while you watch one of Taj's favorite movies. Aomine doesn't really make any move to touch you, and you don't know if you like that or not. He must be able to read you because even after you're done eating, he stays friendly with you.

You have Taj get in the shower while you and Aomine clean up the plates, putting the leftover pizza in the fridge. The silence is back to being awkward again as you wash the dishes, and you look at Aomine when you hear him sigh heavily.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"What makes you say that?"

Aomine dries his hands off before he turns to you. "You just seem kinda tense since we kissed, and I just want to make sure I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, you didn't. I mean, I kissed you first, so..." You trail off, looking off somewhere else. "I guess it just got me thinking."

"About what?" You look at him, not really knowing what to say. "I know that you're still hurt from back then, and if you don't wanna go any further than this, then I complete understand."

"That's not--" You cut yourself off, biting your lip. Aomine steps closer to you, and you don't shy away from him, looking up at him as you wait for him to say something.

"You can think about it for as long as you need." He kisses you softly on the cheek before leaving you in the kitchen, going up the stairs to Taj's room, you assume, and you lean against the counter before you let your head fall into your hands.

~

"Okay, what was so important that I needed to come to your apartment?" you friend asks as soon as you open the door. You don't say anything as you let her in, closing the door before you sit down on the couch. "Did something happen?" She sits down next to you, resting her hand on your back.

"I'm gonna tell you a lot of things, and I just want you to hold all of your thoughts until the end. Okay?" She nods, and you sigh heavily, running your hand over your head.

You tell her everything that's happened in the last couple of months, and she listens intently, not saying anything saved for her reactions to certain things. You tell her about your conflicting thoughts about how you feel about Aomine and your relationship, and she rubs over your back when you feel your emotions starting to hit a high. You compose yourself before falling into her, and she hugs you, resting her cheek on your head.

"Well, that's a development if I've ever heard one," is the first thing she says, sighing a little. "Obviously, the biggest question is what's stopping you."

"I don't know," you whisper.

"You still have feelings for him, right?" She continues when she feels you nod. "And why don't you want to pursue them?"

"I mean, aren't these just my feelings from high school or something? Do I still like him or do I miss the high school version of him?"

"I think you're letting your hurt dictate your thoughts, and that's only doing more harm than good for you right now." She rubs over your arm. "He was your first love, girl. You're never going to forget that. To me, it sounds like Aomine hasn't really changed, which is why you're feelings for him are still there even after all of this time. You don't miss the high school version of him because he's the same guy. The same guy you fell for back then."

You stay quiet as you listen to her, sniffling softly. "I think you're scared of the future, which is completely normal, but it's not okay for your fear of the future to stop you from being happy in the present. It sounds like he really means it this time when he says he won't repeat history, but you're still thinking about that history now."

"What am I supposed to do?" you mumble.

"Stop letting past you tell you what to do. I think deep down you want to believe and trust Aomine, but you are the one stopping yourself from believing that. I don't think you kissed him just for the hell of it either," she laughs softly. "Everything you're feeling is valid, but you have to be the one to decide which ones you're going to put on the back burner."

You chew on your lip softly as you think about her words. "Could you imagine a future where you're not with Aomine?" she asks, and you're quick to shake your head. "Well, how fast you answered should give you the first sign. You always told me that your previous relationships always felt like they had something missing. Do you think you'd be able to find one where that isn't the case?"

"I don't know," you answer quietly.

"I think you just need to let go of your anxieties, which I know is easier said than done, but taking that leap of faith might be the key to being the happiest in your life."

You don't say anything, sitting there quietly as you take in her words. You sit up after a while, turning to give her a hug. "Thank you," you whisper.

"I'm here any time you need me, okay?" You nod, knowing that you've never doubted her on that for a second.

Aomine had a string of away games, so you're currently in the guest room, doing some work since Taj is asleep. Aomine said that he would coming back tonight pretty late, but you don't mind waiting up late for him to come back. But it's mostly because you haven't been able to talk to Aomine after you kissed him since he had to leave, and you can't help but wonder if you'll have that conversation when he gets back.

You're laying on the bed on your stomach, shutting the tabs of your work since you decide that you've done enough for today when you hear a soft knock on your door. "Hey," Aomine says softly when you turn around, standing in the doorway. "Taj asleep?"

You nod, closing your laptop before you sit up, sitting on your butt. "I wasn't feeling really tired, so I just decided to do some work until you got back."

He nods, looking at the floor for a bit. "Did you wanna talk?" he asks softly.

"Well, you seem really tired, so it can wait," you answer with a soft wave of your hand.

"Nah, I'm never tired for you." You smile softly as he walks into the room, and you make room for him to sit down on the bed. He patiently waits for you to begin, and you honestly don't even know where to start.

"I wanna start off with saying that I'm sorry for giving you mixed signals earlier. I realized that I hadn't really sorted out my feelings before all of that, and it wasn't fair to lead you on like that," you say, crossing your legs as you look down at your hands. "I was letting a lot of things affect my feelings, but I'm slowly letting only a couple of things dictate how I feel." He looks at you, hanging onto every word even though you can barely hold the eye contact.

"For one, I was letting the hurt I felt back then when I found out you were seeing someone after we broke up decide how I should continue my relationship with you. Even after I found out that wasn't your intention."

"Regardless if it wasn't my intention or not, it still hurt you, and I'm really sorry for that. And I don't blame you for letting that sway your decisions."

"But I shouldn't have. Things obviously aren't the same anymore, and letting those feelings control me allowed me to ignore my trust in you. And I...I do trust you, Aomine," you admit, looking up at him to see that he's smiling. "And I want to see where this goes. I don't think my feelings for you ever went away, and for the past couple of weeks, I've just been trying to ignore that." You huff softly. "It's kinda hard for me to ignore my heart, though."

"Yeah, it is," he agrees with a chuckle of his own. "But, I'm glad to hear that. And we can go as slow as you want. I don't mind."

You stick your hand out slowly, and he easily follows you, taking your hand in his. "Thank you, Aomine." He shifts himself on the bed, turning to fold on leg on the bed as he pulls you towards him. He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Thank you for giving me another chance. And trusting me," he whispers. You pull away when he does, but you keep your face close to his. His eyes drift to your lips for a second before he meets your eyes again. "Can I kiss you again? Is that too fast?" he murmurs, and you shake your head, moving first.

You inhale deeply when your lips meet his, this time fully indulging in the way his lips feel against yours, how he feels against you. His tongue hesitantly runs over your lip, and you easily let him in, sighing as you feel his arms wrap tightly around you. He starts to fall back, letting his back softly hit the bed, and you're quick to straddle him without breaking the kiss. It feels so much better to kiss him without all of these doubts in your head, and the only thing you can feel is how much your feelings for him are true.

He kisses you chastely a couple of times before he pulls away, moving his hands to cup your face. "I missed doing that so much," he whispers, and you can't help but smile.

"Me too." You kiss him again, but the floor suddenly creaking near the door has you both moving away from each other.

"Dad?" Taj slowly walks in, rubbing his eyes as you both quickly sit up. "When'd you get back?" he asks quietly, walking up to him, and Aomine picks him up, setting him in his lap. Taj immediately lays against him.

"About thirty minutes ago," he answers.

"I was trying to wait for you," he mumbles. "But I fell asleep."

"I can see that," he muses before he stands, and Taj moves his legs around his waist, his arms wrapping around his neck as he lays his head on his shoulder. "Let's get you back into bed, yeah?"

"I wanted to tell you what I did at school this week," Taj responds as Aomine starts to walk out of the room.

"Tell me all about it," he says, and he gives you one last smile before he disappears down the hallway.

You bite your lip as your smile widens, softly touching your lips, still feeling Aomine's on yours.

~

The development of your relationship with Aomine feels different than it did when you first met him in high school. You feel like that's obviously expected, but you do find some similarities, but it's mostly with how you're feeling. You're starting to feel that giddiness that you felt when you first starting dating him, and you wonder if that's what was missing for you in your other relationships. Of course, you had feelings for them, but none never seemed to make you feel the way that Aomine does.

You haven't had a real date yet since Aomine's schedules so hectic right now, and since you're starting training for the upcoming tournament season. Along with taking care of Taj, you haven't had time just to yourselves. That doesn't stop him from complimenting you every chance he gets or sneaking in kisses whenever the two of you are alone which is either late in the night or early in the morning right before you take Taj to school.

You both have gotten significantly closer to each other, almost always being in each other's space when you can. You start to wonder when you should tell Taj about it, not really sure how he'll take it. But the playoffs are coming up, and that means you'll be taking another trip with Aomine and Taj right before your tournaments start, so you both figure it would be better to tell him sooner rather than later.

You're tucking Taj into bed when Aomine walks into the room, coming in to say goodnight. Aomine sits on the bed, listening to Taj tell him about his day at school as he starts to wind down. When Taj finally starts to talk a little less, Aomine sighs softly, shifting himself a little more towards Taj. "Hey, we gotta tell you something," he begins, looking at you, and you give him a reassuring nod before he turns to back to his son.

"Are you guys dating?" he asks suddenly, and both you freeze for a second as your eyes widen.

"How'd you--What makes you say that?" Aomine stutters.

Taj shrugs. "I dunno. Dad's been smiling a lot more, and you hug Dad before you leave once he gets home." You and Aomine are practically speechless, that being the last thing you thought he would say.

"Well, how do you feel about that?" Aomine questions softly.

"Does this mean that y/n will be with us forever?" You both laugh as Aomine looks at you, grabbing your hand.

"That's the plan," Aomine answers honestly.

"I'm happy then," Taj smiles as his eyes start to fall closed. You both softly tell him goodnight, and he mumbles it back before you both quietly make your leave.

The playoffs sneak up on you and Aomine, time flying by so fast during this time, and this time you take the trip by plane. The hotel situation is the same of course, Taj wanting to have his own bed, running into the room once the door is open to claim which bed he wants. But this time, Aomine isn't stressing about sharing a bed with you.

He actually has to be with the team most of the day even when they're not playing which he doesn't really care for, so he savors the time that he can have with you and Taj as much as he can. The first couple of days are mostly just practice, so you and Taj busy yourself with sightseeing and passing time by playing games in the hotel. By the time Aomine comes back from practice, he's usually pretty beat.

You've already gotten food for him that he tiredly eats, listening to Taj as he tells him about the day that you had before he slides into bed. You get you and Taj ready for bed, tucking him before you turn the light off. It looked like Aomine was already asleep when you turned the light off, and you make sure his alarms are set, setting your own just in case, and you get into bed yourself.

You're getting comfortable when you feel Aomine's arm wrap around your waist, and you jump with a silent scream, thinking Aomine was asleep. "Oh, my God, you scared me," you breathe, and he hums softly as he pulls you into him.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"Goodnight, Aomine," you whisper, lacing your hand with his that's near your stomach.

"Night, baby," he says into your bonnet.

Aomine's team is playing better than a lot of people expected, and you and Taj have been to every game, supporting him every second of them. Some of the games are a little too close for comfort, but his team comes out on top despite the mini heart attack they give you when they let the other team go on a scoring run. And after every win, Aomine makes sure to come over to you guys, but you always fight him, not wanting to hug him while he's sweaty. But he always manages to get you anyway, laughing at your scolding.

He kisses you softly after giving Taj a kiss on the forehead before he has to leave to either get interviewed or to go to the locker room. Taj falls asleep in your arms while you wait for him, and he stays asleep until you all get back to the hotel. He's awake enough to eat and shower, but the moment you put him in bed, it's only minutes before he's asleep.

You usher Aomine into the shower as you clean everything up, wanting him to get into bed as soon as possible for his final game tomorrow. You're surprised to see that he's still awake when you walk out of the bathroom, and you turn the light off, as you crowd into his space when you get into bed. "You're supposed to be sleep," you scold softly, resting your cheek on your hand as you lay next to him.

"I was waiting for you," he whispers, his eyes heavy with sleep, but he continues to look at you.

"You've got a big day tomorrow," you tell him, but he doesn't respond, running his finger over your face before he grabs your hand.

"Thank you," he suddenly says.

"For what?" you ask with a soft frown.

"For walking back into my life," he answers. "I don't think I would've made it this far with this, with Taj if it wasn't for you." You tilt your head as you smile at him. "You really helped me see things that I wasn't seeing before, and I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you."

"Well, you did the same thing for me. I wouldn't have won that last tournament if it wasn't for you," you admit. He leans forward and you meet him halfway to kiss him softly.

"I love you," he whispers when he pulls away.

"I love you, too, Aomine." He smiles widely as his eyes finally close.

"Of course, you do," he muses, and you roll your eyes as you finally lay down.

"Go to sleep!" you declare quietly, and he pulls you into him, kissing you one more time before he finally falls asleep.

~

Aomine almost can't believe it when the final buzzer fills his ears as signals the end of the game. He honestly wasn't sure how the game was going to go, but seeing that his team is on top once it's over, it takes it a while for it to finally hit him. He immediately walks over to you and Taj, the latter who's already running over to him. He quickly picks him up, hugging him tightly.

You walk up shortly after, and you look so happy for him that he can't even begin to describe how much love he feels for you as he leans down to kiss you happily, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer. "Congratulations, Daiki," you tell him, and he doesn't think he's ever smiled so wide in his life.

If you told him we would be here years ago, he wouldn't have believed you. Even in this moment, he's still waiting for his alarm to wake him up because it feels like he's dreaming. All of his teammates pass by to give him high fives and congratulate him as well. When the interviewer comes up to ask him some questions, he doesn't let either of you go. He kisses you on camera, but neither of you cares about what people might say. You figured it was already out of the bag, and it just confirms what everyone was thinking.

The team decides to go out to celebrate, and Aomine nearly declines until you urge him to go. You'll be there for a couple of more days anyway, so you can use all of that time to spend with each other. Aomine stays for as long as he can, doing the press conference and celebrating with the team before he makes his way back to the hotel.

Taj is greeting him as soon as he walks through the door, and he hugs him again, the events of tonight finally hitting him. He gets in the shower so he can finally feel clean, and there's no way he feels like he can go to sleep after what just happened. When he gets out of the shower, Taj sits with him on the bed, retelling him everything that happened.

He happily listens as he lays on your lap, smiling as he watches him move excitedly as he talks about everything. Taj actually stays up pretty late, too excited to sleep, and he eventually lays down next to Aomine, continuing to tell him how awesome he was, but once he lays down, he starts to calm down. You already know the signs of when he's about to fall asleep, so you get him into the shower, and when you're putting him into bed, he's claiming he's not tired.

You and Aomine laugh softly, but within minutes he finally falls asleep, and Aomine runs his hand over his head softly. You yawn softly, already showering for the night, before you get into bed. Aomine gets into the bed after turning the light off, and he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you.

"You might have to pinch me," he whispers, and you snort as you lift your head.

"And why would I need to do that?"

"Cause none of this feels real," he admits. "I used to have these dreams after that tournament you won where we were married," he tells you softly. "And I just remember being ridiculously happy, but then I would wake up, and I would get unbelievably upset that that's all it was. A dream." He can't see your face very well since it's so dark, a little bit of light peeking out from behind the curtain from the window and the alarm clock. "I'm just really happy right now, and I'm afraid that I'll wake up soon."

You hum as you listen to him, and he feels your hand drift over his chest before you rub over his arm with your thumb. He's waiting for you to stay something, but he jumps out of his skin as he hisses when he feels your nails pinch his skin. "Ow," he winces as you laugh quietly.

You move your face closer to his, kissing him softly. "You're not dreaming, Daiki. And I can pinch you as many times as you need me to."

He smiles, kissing you again. "I don't think I'll ask you to do that again. That fucking hurt." You chuckle, rubbing over where you pinched him, laying your head on his chest. He rubs over your back, and you both lay there quietly. He hears you softly snoring after a while, and he stares at the ceiling as he finally lets sleep pull him away.

"You know, I can watch Taj for the weekend if you need me to," your friend tells you suddenly.

You're sitting on the bench at the park watching the kids play, and when you first got here, you immediately thought about how you ran into Aomine here two years ago. You can't believe that much time has flown by already.

"And why are you telling me that?" you ask her playfully, and she tilts her head to the side, giving you a look.

"Have you guys even had a day alone since you started dating again?" Your silence is enough of an answer for her, but she does have a point. Once Aomine's season ended, yours seemed to be in full swing right after. Luckily, you and your partner decided to take a break this month, so you've enjoyed having all of your weekends free this month without having to travel anywhere.

"You've come through for me, so it's only right for me to return the favor." You laugh, looking at the kids again.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," she says warmly. "Just remember to use protection."

"Alright," you chide with no heat behind it as you roll your eyes, shoving her lightly.

You told Aomine about your friend taking Taj for the weekend, and at first you don't think he gets it until your friend finally comes on Friday to pick him up. You tell Taj to have fun before he runs out of the house, and your friend gives you a look that you roll your eyes at before she closes the door.

"I didn't even plan anything," Aomine sighs, finally realizing that you both have the house to yourselves, and you laugh as you move to stand in front of him, grabbing his hands.

"That's okay. I don't really feel like going out anyway," you say. It seems like after Aomine's win, you've been noticed even more when you're out in public. It also doesn't help that every tournament you play in is televised, and people are always saying something related to you and Aomine whenever you pass by them. You'd rather stay inside then deal with that; you can just be with Aomine without having to have any other attention on you.

You both sit on the couch for a while, and Aomine suddenly leaves saying that he has to go to the bathroom. You pause the show you were watching, scrolling through your phone as you wait for him to come back. You've lost track of how many videos you watched, laughing at one more before you realize that Aomine hasn't been back in a while.

It dawns on you that you heard him go upstairs when he left, and you swipe out of the app before you stand up, going to look for him. You walk up the stairs, going to his room first, and you see that it's empty. You check in the bathroom to see that it's dark, and you frown as you get ready to walk out until you hear something.

You turn around, seeing that the door to the small balcony is open. You walk over to it intending to close it, but when you push the curtain to the side, you stop as you see Aomine standing outside. You push the door open as you look at the blanket he's put down, seeing that there are candles lit. "You said you didn't plan anything," you gasp softly as you slide the door closed.

"This was kinda last minute," he admits. "I'm sorry it's not much."

You shake your head, hugging him before you lift your head to kiss him. "I love it."

Aomine takes one of the pillows, putting it against the railing before he lays against it, and he pulls you towards him so you can lay between his legs. You rest your body against him as he wraps his arms around you, and you both look at the sky, being able to see the stars since the sun's down.

"You were gone for so long," you laugh, and he copies it, sighing after.

"I couldn't find the lighter." You laugh again, placing your hand on his arm. You sit in silence again, and you look up at Aomine when he starts speaking.

"Thank you for giving me another chance," he whispers, looking down at you. "I honestly thought you wouldn't, and I'm grateful that you did. I love you so much." He moves his head down so he can kiss you, and you easily meet him halfway, and he softly puts his hand on your face.

"I love you, too, Daiki. Thank you for not fucking it up this time," you smile softly, and he smiles widely.

"I won't ever hurt you again. I swear," he declares, and you know that he means it. You kiss him again, titling your head for a better angle, and he kisses you deeply. You sigh softly before you break the kiss, moving so that you can straddle his lap, and his fingers softly dig into your waist.

You moan softly when he gently slides his tongue in your mouth, and you gasp into the kiss when he suddenly gets up with you in his arms. He holds you with one arm as he opens and closes the door while he keeps kissing you. He slowly walks over the bed, taking his time, focusing on kissing you. He stops at the front of the bed as his hands rub over your ass.

"Are we really doing this?" he whispers in between kisses, and you pull away briefly to look at him, both of you breathing heavily as he sets you down.

"I want to if you want to," you answer, and he nods quickly, tugging on your shirt.

"I want to. Really bad," he mumbles you both start to strip. You barely have time to let your bra drop to the floor before he picks you up again, his hands groping your body as he lays down on the bed.

His hands softly grab you everywhere as he kisses you, and he moans loudly when you grind against him, his hands digging into your ass as he gets harder.

His hands run back up your body, and you softly grab his hands, lacing your fingers with his as you continue to roll your hips. That in combination with your tits rubbing against him nearly sends him over, his hips bucking up into signaling of what's coming quickly, and he quickly rolls you both over, his hips hovering over and away from you.

He catches his breath as he focuses on you again, kissing down your neck until he gets to your chest. He kisses over your tits before keeping his attention on one, licking over your nipple before sucking on it gently.

You moan softly, your hand sliding into his hair as he kisses a path to the other one, his fingers replacing his mouth as he focuses on the other one. His other hand slides up your leg before it finds its destination at your core, and he groans quietly when he feels how wet you are.

He's off your chest a second later to look at you, and he feels himself throb at the strands of slick that are connecting his fingers to you. "God, you're so perfect," he whispers as he sits up. He grabs one of your legs, holding it as he moves it out of the way so he can get closer to you.

He rubs at your clit, and he can only watch you, silent as he plays you more. He slowly slides his fingers in, and he grits his teeth as he feels you clench around him, willing himself not to cum the moment he does.

He curls his fingers, looking for that spot, seeing your body jump when he finds it, and you mewl softly, meeting his eyes. He can only hold the eye contact for so long before it gets too much for him, so he quickly puts his lower half on the bed before he puts his mouth on you.

He echoes your moan as your taste floods his taste buds, and he circles his tongue at your clit as he speeds his fingers up. "F-Fuck," you breathe, your toes curling as that knot builds, and you moan his name, pushing yourself closer to his mouth.

Your legs start to squeeze his head, and he places his hand on the outside of your thighs, feeling like he could stay here for the rest of his life. "W-Wait, 'Mine, hold on," you manage, pulling on his hair lightly.

He pulls away, his mouth open as he pants with your slick covering his face. You try to reach for his wrist since he doesn't stop moving his fingers, and he smirks as he watched you struggle to grab it. "Wanna cum with you inside me."

His dick throbs again at your words, and he doesn't think he's been this hard in his life. He feels like he's under your spell as he slides his fingers out of you, licking them clean before he moves up to kiss you again.

"How do you want me?" you ask softly, and he slowly blinks at you.

"I-I don't know," he mumbles, and he's pretty sure he has no blood running to his brain.

"You don't know?" you tease before you start to roll over, gently pushing Aomine until he's on his back, and he watches you with love in his eyes as you straddle him. "Haven't you done this before?" you jab, and his hands dig into your hips when you sit on him.

"Barely," he blurts, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Really?" you question, softly running your hands up his sides, and he shivers at the motion.

"Besides one other person, you're the only one I've been with," he admits quietly.

"Seriously?" So, he was being serious when he said that he hadn't been with anyone in years.

He nods as you lift yourself up, grabbing him in your hand softly as you line yourself up. "Cause there's no one else like you," he declares as you sink down, and your mouth falling open as he stretched you out. His fingers are digging so hard into your hips that you're sure it'll leave marks, but you can't even focus on that.

You roll your hips, and it feels like his nerves are being stimulated by a thousands, his body tensing as he feels his orgasm slowly creeping up on him. "F-Fuck, 'm not gonna last long," he rushes out, making no move to stop you, but he can't bring himself to move either.

"What happened to that basketball stamina?" you tease, planting your hands on his chest as you increase the speed on your hips, and he moans loudly as he throws his head back against the pillows.

"T-This i-is different," he whines, and you smile down at him, gasping when his tip rubs against your g-spot.

"God, you feel so good, Daiki," you moan, letting your head fall back on your shoulders, and when he opens his eyes to look at you, it's too much for him.

His breath catches in his throat as he pulls you off of him, and he pumps himself as he cums, his dick twitching with every new spurt of his cum. He breathes heavily as he finally relaxes, swearing loudly.

"You really didn't last long," you say lightly, borderline is disbelief, but he's still hard. He sits up quickly, pushing you down and rolling you over.

"Can you blame me?" he starts, guiding you onto your knees. He rubs over your ass before spreading you open, his mouth watering at the sight of your stretched hole dripping. He wants to make you eat your words, and he fully plans on delivering.

He smirks when he runs his tip over your hole which makes you jump. He pushes on your back softly, forcing it into an arch as he starts to slide in. You seem so much tighter in this position, and his breath catches in his chest again as he feels you pulse around him.

"I'm finally having sex with the most beautiful woman on Earth," he continues as he bottoms out. He curls himself over your back, lacing his hands with yours as he lets his mouth hover over your ear. "The woman I've been in love with since I was seventeen."

He pulls out, barely giving you time to get used to the empty feeling before he's slamming back in. The movement forces a moan out of you, and once he starts, he doesn't stop. Your eyes roll when he continues to hit that spongy spot inside of you, and you let your head fall down on the bed as every nerve in your body feels like it's in overdrive.

"I love you so much, baby," he moans, already feeling like he's going to cum again, but he knows that he'll make you cum before that happens, his ego still a little bruised from earlier.

He lets go of one of your hands to rub at your clit, you moan his name when you feel yourself getting closer. He swears into your neck when he feels you clench around him, doing everything he can to not cum and keep his hips moving.

"Oh, Daiki, Daiki," you whine, screwing your eyes shut as your toes curl. He grunts when he thrusts into you harder than before at the sound of his name coming from you, and luckily for him, that's what sends you over.

He bites down on your shoulder as he feels you cum around him, nearly dizzy as he tries to hold out, fucking you through the high until he can't take it anymore. He quickly pulls out milliseconds before he cums, and he paints your ass and your back, his head falling back on his shoulders as he pumps himself until the oversensitivity makes his head spin.

He collapses on the bed next to you, pulling you to him so that he can kiss you lazily. He can already feel himself starting to fall asleep, and he hums in content as he pulls away, wrapping his arms around you.

His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and he's confident he can hear it over his heavy breathing. "I love you," he slurs, moving you so that you're on top of him, and he rubs over your ass as his eyes slip closed.

"I love you, too, Daiki," you echo, and he gives you a sleepy smile. "But I feel gross," you laugh.

"In a minute," he mumbles, but he doesn't stay awake for much longer.

But luckily for him, when he wakes up later, you're still here, confirming that he's not dreaming.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 8.

Summary: The fallout of arguing with Oliver, not fighting with Farleigh, Felix hooks up with your not-girlfriend, and so you provide comfort to his sort-of-ex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: someone makes a move on the reader while they're very very drunk and the reader is far more sober, but it doesn't go past kissing, if that's something you're possibly concerned about.

A/N: 5424 words. welcome back. this one goes many different places in the span of one night. the farleigh of it all. the annabel of it all. im worried this one might feel OOC so id really like to hear if there's anywhere i could improve on my characterisation, what worked, what didn't?? as always unedited, and as we're nearing the end of the term (in the fic) we only have a few chapters left at oxford before we get to go to saltburn!! LOVE YOU ENJOY!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Didn't have to do that," Felix sighed from his desk, head bent low over his textbook. It's the first thing he'd said since Oliver left. You, still on his bed, picking through a textbook for a class you both share, found half-shoved under his bed, look up.

"Do what?"

"That thing with Michael What's-His-Name's file," it almost sounds like guilt in his voice, but he still isn't listening to you, "you could get in real trouble for having that."

In swift movements he stands, and you catch the sight of his scowl despite how he doesn't turn it upon you. Once again he's sitting on the floor, back to the foot of the bed, lighting up another cigarette, legs crossed in front of him.

"I'll put it back tomorrow." You're not used to Felix disapproving of you, it's a kind of discomfort you want to shake as quickly as you're able to. After a moment you add, "I know it's not really Ollie's fault, I shouldn't have -"

"I don't want to talk about Ollie right now." He's focused on balancing his ash tray on his knee, watching it with such intensity it's as if he's trying to define life's secrets from it.

"Should I go?" Murmured, almost like you're afraid of anyone hearing it, even Felix. It hangs, golden in the hazy heat of the afternoon.

"'m not the boss of you," Felix mumbles softly, head low, again his words coloured almost with guilt. You know he will never shake the quiet shame he sometimes is hit with when he remembers the way people often perceive the relationship you two share; too close, too loyal, too imbalanced.

But you've never cared; you will never treat him differently, never want for anything but his happiness, never beat the canine allegations. One day you hope you'll convince him that's okay.

So instead of leaving, you close the textbook and stretch yourself out across his bed, laying the on your belly with your head resting at the foot, by his. Your hand rests on his head, running your fingers through his hair.

Felix breathes out a lung full of smoke. He doesn't look at you. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. The moment is a quiet one, tension thick and choking and full of things neither of you can talk about.

It's the strangest afternoon you share in a long while, one full of silence and the slow, mind numbing sound of pages being turned and the scratch of pen against paper.

"I'm gonna get ready to go out tonight," you say softly, finally breaking the silence when the courtyard outside is every shade of gold and orange in the sunset. Felix just hums in acknowledgement from his desk, "Fi?"

"Yeah," he huffs, dismissively, still looking at his notes. You've got the file in one hand, doing up the buttons of the shirt you'd forgone in the afternoon heat of his dorm room, but had to wear back to your own.

"You want me to text Oli?" You watch him grow tense at the name alone.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," he mumbles, almost forcibly nonchalant, despite the hard line of his shoulders that hadn't been there moments ago. Then, as if to clear the moment, he sits up straighter, turning to you in his desk chair with a look of determination in his eyes, "India still into me do you think?"

"I know India's still into you," you can't help but snort, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Would you be totally cut up if I -" he doesn't even need to finish before you're rolling your eyes.

"She'd be thrilled," but your smile softens a little, even as you shake your head with exasperation, "she's all yours, Fi."

Perhaps it's the fondness with which you acquiesces to his arguably selfish request that makes him take in the full exchange that had just passed. Felix takes a moment, tension and expression dropping as he turns pensive for a moment, unable to look you in the eyes. After a beat, you turn to the door, fully intending on letting the moment pass, but you hear Felix stand.

He doesn't say anything as he approaches you, still wearing that rather grim, thoughtful expression, but he wraps you up in a hug. He holds you as close as he's able, and after a beat of surprise, you gently drop the file to wrap your arms around him in return.

I love you. I'm sorry. All the tension from the afternoon drains away in this hug, in him pressed against you, leaning into you, breathing deep and even and steady. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you give him a brief kiss against his warm, golden skin, and hope he can feel your smile too.

The hug breaks, but still he holds your face for a long moment. He's smiling again. I love you. Thank you. He kisses your cheek quickly.

"I'll catch you at the King's Arms, yeah?"

"'course, Fi," you assure him with a warm smile of your own.

Back in your own dorm, that single moment of warmth unfortunately can't overwrite the entire afternoon of sickly tension. Looking at Oliver's name in your contacts, you frown. You should text him, invite him, Felix told him he would -

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know."

You don't text Oliver.

Annabel also isn't at the King's Arms that night. Of course you know why, the answer sits across from you with his arm around your not-girlfriend, but part of you still kind of feels bad for if the sweet redhead ever finds out.

"What are you sulking about?" Farleigh's smug voice in your ear, Farleigh's arm around your shoulder, Farleigh's cigarettes you keep stealing, Farleigh who you've tucked yourself up against for the night.

"'m not," you try insisting, frowning at the lighter that's clearly out of fluid and refusing to relight your cigarette. He gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"You sure, Peter Pan? Where's your shadow?"

"You don't give a shit about Oliver," you snap a little too quickly, both frustrated by the situation you're trying to ignore, and the useless lighter, but Farleigh reads right through it and practically cackles. Still, he wraps his other arm around you and squeezes you against his side with glee, even as you try to protest.

"Ooh~" Farleigh teases, poking your side with a wide, fond smile, "trouble in pauper's paradise?"

"That's fucking mean," you rib him none too gently, but he actually snorts with laughter. The lighter still won't bloody well start.

"I feel like you're fucking edging me with that lighter, fuck," Benji, from Farleigh's other side, smacks your lighter out of your hands and holds out his perfectly working one.

"Thank you, Benny, that was pissing me off," Farleigh says with a satisfied smile, his laughter having died down. You, finally take a draught on your cigarette, grateful for the warmth, and the nicotine as it hits.

"Could kiss you, Benj," you finally let yourself smile, "someone remind me to get a new lighter," you add, leaning across Farleigh without hesitation to plant a kiss squarely on Benji's lips after he'd wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, teasingly at you at your comment.

"We'd fascinate psychologists," Farleigh chuckled, but his voice is warm and fond, and Benji turns back to his conversation with Alicia and Jake on his other side once the moment had passed.

"Probably," comes out distracted, however as your teasing mood drops and you look to your phone. Should I have called Oliver? But when you look up, across the table, you see warmth and fondness in the way Felix looks at India, enraptured by whatever story she's telling. With one arm around her shoulders, he lets her distractedly play with his other hand, leaning into her, all attention on her. Making her feel like the centre of the universe, the way only Felix knows how to do. India glows in a way you've never seen before, lighting up under his direct affection, beautiful and elated, maybe even a little bit flustered.

There's not even a hint of jealousy at the sight of them. All you know is how much you love your friends, and how happy and beautiful they look together in this moment. There is contentment, satisfaction, like a job well done... Farleigh might have a point about the psychologists.

Speaking of - Farleigh grabs your chin and tilts your face to look at him. Immediately you smack his hand away.

"Stop that! What is that? What are you doing?" You squawk at him immediately. Again, he grabs your chin, frowning, intent upon gazing intensely into your eyes. This time you let him.

"I'm figuring out what this is," he mutters like he's deep in thought. You let your gaze roam for a moment, hoping he gets whatever this is out of his system. You wiggle your chin in his grip, and it's enough to prompt more of an explanation, "if you're not sulking, then I don't know this -" rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away.

"Fuck man, I'm not sulking," you insist, remembering your cigarette and taking another puff, glad it hadn't gone out.

"You've been weird lately; angry - ranting," Farleigh made sure to stick to your cover story despite having seen through it the minute you'd tried out the other week, "you and Felix have had some weird vibes," he takes the cigarette from you, and you settle yourself against him further.

"Fi and I always have weird vibes," you pointed out with a little smirk, keeping your voice as low as he was, glad he didn't feel the need to publicise this discussion too broadly. Farleigh snorted, but shook his head.

"You, sure," Farleigh conceded, handing back the cigarette, "but," he leans in, leans into your with a knowing, dangerously sharp smile, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, "Felix has been weird about you," his voice slides along the word weird as his hand slides up your thigh, as if to prove a point, before sitting back. Giving you a moment to recover, Farleigh sits back up like nothing happened, letting go of your thigh and taking a drink. He gives you a squeeze, arm still around your shoulders, "or hadn't you noticed?" Back at regular conversation levels like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Across the circle of your friend group, Felix's gaze momentarily flicks to you as India's in the middle of some kind of enthusiastically rambling. Gaze briefly passing to Farleigh, he then looks back and raises an amused eyebrow in silent question. The smile you give him is instinctive and warm, a silent answer. He mirrors the smile for the briefest moment before his attention returns to India.

Of course you'd noticed the change.

"Of course I've noticed." Your gaze dips; you become fascinated with your drink for the moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever comment you knew Farleigh had coming.

"Surprised he hadn't put you on a leash."

You elbow him hard in the ribs. He retaliates by flicking you repeatedly in the forehead. Its a blurry mess of frustration and elbows after that, pulling hair and wet fingers in ears and trying to sink nails into each other's soft sides, all squabbling and cursing and insults not made for polite society.

"- you put your fingers near my mouth I'll bite them off!" You holler even when he's got his arm around your neck in a kind of choke hold, which is around the time the two of you are pulled away from each other.

The rest of the table is staring at you both, while you and Farleigh straighten yourselves up, a little flustered at the many incredulous stares you were getting.

"The fuck was that about?" Felix, of course, is the one to voice the question the others all had. You look to Farleigh, his expression mirroring yours; no malice, no frustration, like nothing had happened.

"Bit of horseplay," you shrugged easily, meeting Felix's eyes, tone bright and chipper. He looked unconvinced.

"Just two dudes being guys," Farleigh's tone was light and breezy as he settled back into the booth, and you alongside him, letting him once more sling an arm around your shoulders.

"Guys bein' pals," you agreed with a nod. Farleigh pats your head for emphasis. The group thankfully decides that they've had enough of the weird moment to go back to their own conversations. Felix was the last to focus back on the conversation he'd been having with India and Alicia, narrowing his eyes as he looked between you and Farleigh.

Before turning his attention entirely away, his gaze fixes on you. There, in the very slight tilt of his head, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens, you see his concern for you. You lean your head back on Farleigh's shoulder and let yourself relax, let yourself give him a genuine, reassuring smile. It's enough.

Farleigh clears his throat.

"It was either that or tell him you said that," you explained under your breath, to which Farleigh nodded in understanding, hand running up and down your shoulder idly as he reached across the table for the communal fries, bringing the basket closer to you both.

"And you don't want to tell him because you know I'm right," Farleigh is back to smug, but at least this time you can join him in his amusement.

"No, but I'm humouring you because I'd like to talk about how good I'd look in a collar," picking up a chip, you eat it with a grin as Farleigh rolls his eyes. After a moment, however, he comes back with this contemplative look, still amused, but eyes narrowed and searching like they had been earlier. You eat another chip and tell him to put his eyeballs back in his head, "seriously, quit looking at me like that, Farleigh -"

"He has been weird-weird," Farleigh says like he's agreeing, though you tell him you have no idea what the fuck he means. Taking a deep breath like he was ramping up to something, Farleigh looks across the group to Felix, before looking back at you with a kind of put-upon smile, "I say this only as someone who's know you for like, more of my life than I'd like to admit -"

"I love you too, go on."

"- so I kind of think that it might not look that different to anyone else, like they don't know it's not your usual brand of weirdness," he wets his lips, giving you a look like he's not even sure if he's meant to be saying this, like he might be letting you in on a secret you're not supposed to know, "he's been really hot and cold with you."

Of course you'd noticed.

"I slept with Oliver."

Beside you, Farleigh appears to go through all five stages of grief at once.

"You make it very hard to be friends with you sometimes," he says, shaking his head. You, however, are focusing on how many chips you can eat in a rush rather than think too much about the topic at hand.

"That mean," you tell him flatly, mouth full of potatoes, "you're being mean again."

"You chose to sleep with Oliver, that is a choice you made; I'm gonna be mean about it, you've earned it, you know you have -"

"Remember," you gave him a shit-eating grin, "how the next time we went drinking after that costume party, you spent a full half hour in the beer garden ranting about how stupid you thought Ollie's costume was," you ate another chip while Farleigh narrowed his eyes at you with barely concealed contempt, but you powered on, "and it turned out that you thought the costume didn't do him justice, which then -" your grin grew wider, "became you ranting about how his eyes are too blue, and why does he dress like that when we can all see his arms, imagine if he wore a shirt that fit!" You gleefully recounted, even as Farleigh's mouth flattened into a thin line, like he's bitten on a lemon, but he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Hey, that's not what I -"

"And then -!" You spoke over him, "you forgot where you were and tried to take an angry nap in the bushes."

"I don't -" a flustered Farleigh squirms for a moment in his seat, unable to look at you, "remember that, and," he turned a faux serious look upon you, "if you tell anyone I said that, I'll tell them you're lying."

"I'm just saying," you shrugged, "don't act like you don't know part of the reason why I slept with him."

"Fine," Farleigh rolled his eyes, allowing his flustered frustration to ease. After a moment of contemplation, of watching Felix, he hums quietly, thoughtfully, "that can't be it, right?"

"What can't be it?"

"If Felix was going to start being jealous it wouldn't be over Oliver."

"See, that's what I thought."

"So he is jealous?"

"I don't know," you say quietly, still not quite sure how to feel about it; Felix had taken the news fine when you'd told him, he hadn't seemed any different, but of course there'd been a change. Why now?

"That's really stupid of him," Farleigh finally says, dismissively.

"It is, isn't it?" As you try and laugh, your heart's not in it. You look at your phone again, another wave of that strange discomfort that you'd been feeling lately washing over you again. You can't stay.

Everyone's surprised by your early departure as you say your goodbyes. You cite the need to study hard tomorrow, giving hugs and kisses as you start the short journey back to your dorm. Felix murmurs that he loves you and a cheeky thanks in your ear and you know he's talking about India. You kiss his cheek, and then you head off.

Nothing had seemed off when you'd told Felix.

"You look like you're about to burst into song; what happened to you?"

"Something happened!"

"Am I meant to guess?"

"No, no- I mean, like how nothing happened between me and Ollie a few months ago; something happened!"

"Something happened between you and Ollie?"

"The something that didn't happen last time -"

"I don't remember last time, Y/N, you're being so cryptic, I love that you're excited but -"

"Yes, Ollie and I slept together. Finally!"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"No, good 'oh', promise!"

"Didn't sound like a good 'oh', Fi; is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course, sorry Y/N, I promise, I'm just... I don't remember you being this excited about a hook up... and I don't think I was excepting it to be Ollie, you know? Was he really that good?"

"Let me put it this way, it was the kind of good that none of our other friends would believe if I told them."

"Fancy that, Ollie knows what he's doing; good for you."

"Great for me."

It wasn't particularly vulgar or explicit, you'd had far more in depth conversations about your various hook ups, Felix had seemed as happy for you as he always did with these kinds of stories. But he'd started looking at Oliver different, you'd noticed it. That too is when he became the clingiest. Farleigh was right; on nights out with Oliver around, Felix threw out any pretence of subtlety or person space. Felix acted like your boyfriend.

But then, any other night, any other group situation, it was like any other day. Sometimes he'd barely even glance at you. Hot and cold.

You're so in your head on the walk home that you barely register someone sitting at your door until you all but trip over them.

Annabel.

She'd been crying.

"Fuck you." Is how she greets you.

"What are you doing here?" A twinge of pity, a twinge of guilt, to see her obviously distraught at your doorstep. She gets unsteadily to her feet, swearing at you again. Reaching out to steady her, she surprises you by lunging at you, grabbing you.

"You were there, weren't you? With the rest of them," Annabel's gripping your collar, makeup smeared with tears and eyes red-rimmed, "with him," lips still inches from yours, her gaze unfocused but searching, "I can fucking smell it on you- you- you and rich boy-" but she stops for a moment, expression falling to confusion, "Farleigh?"

"Annabel -" you ease her hands off of your collar, partly confused, but mostly pitying.

"Why do you smell like Farleigh?" She sounds almost like a lost child, refusing to let go of your hand as you pulled out your keys. God she looks so helpless, tears still welling in her eyes, vodka bottle mostly empty by her feet.

"Why are you so good at telling what Farleigh smells like?" You countered with, swinging the door open. At this, some of the righteous indignation fires up in her again, flouncing into your room.

"You all went to the same boarding school, you've all got these same habits, and same but different scents you cling to," she's scowling at your dresser as you picked up the vodka bottle and brought it into your room, shutting your door. You watch her for a long moment, see how she analyses everything you have there, perfumes, colognes, makeup, skin care, little bits of paper rubbish - she picks up a bottle and flicks off the lid, not caring where it landed amongst the rest of the things there. When she sprays it, she seems to almost relax amongst it's mist. Of course. It's Felix's favourite, Felix's scent as she'd so aptly described it, for when he'd spend the night.

"Of course you have his too," she says faintly, almost derisively.

Allowing your attention to finally drift from her, you start getting ready for bed, heading to your closet to hang up your jacket.

"You all need to mark your territory," she spits, out of your peripheries, you see her move away from your dresser and pick up her vodka again, "need everyone to know who you own, who we all belong to -"

"Anna, that's not -" you sighed, unsure of where any of this was going, but not liking it either way. As you search your drawers for pyjamas, you felt her gentle hands on your hips. Jumping at the sudden touch, when you spin she braces herself against the drawers with hands either side of you, while your hands become trapped, the last bit of resistance between her chest and yours.

"I smelled like you both for weeks," she murmurs, gaze roaming your body, almost hungry, landing back on your lips, "you remember that? I should- I should- should have been fucking sickened," she admits, voice a low whisper, the hunger turning needy, turning into almost a whimper, "the things I want you both to do to me make me sick to my stomach," her lips inch closer to yours, shared breath, heat in the air, "of course I know what the fuck you all choose to smell like, I can't get it out of my fucking head," you should lean away but there's something intoxicating about her rage, her desperation, her desire, "Our Annabel, that's what he'd called me, what you'd -" and she kisses you, vodka still wicked and bitter on her tongue, all but panting into your mouth as her hands find your hips again.

But it can't continue, you can't let this go on. As you lean back to free your arms, to hold her back, she takes advantage of the opportunity to slide her hands beneath your shirt, cold and nimble against your belly -

"Could've been my Felix -" she mumbles, as if in a trance, eyes hazy and full of both tears, like she was looking into a memory. The minute her fingers find your fly you grab her hands firmly. It takes you a moment to regain your composure, to remind yourself that she wasn't in her right state of mind, that she probably didn't even know what she was doing or saying -

My Felix flares bright and hot and possessive in your mind. My Felix.

"Ow," Annabel's noise of pain brings you back to reality, but thankfully it seems the shock to her system brought her back too. Looking down at your vice-like grip on her wrists, she looks back at you as you let her go, embarrassment in her eyes as she perhaps realises some of what she'd been doing.

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight, Anna," still, your voice is gentle. She huffs an embarrassed little laugh, starting to sniffle again. Again, you remind yourself that this poor girl just got her heart broken by your best friend, and decided to deal with that by drinking an entire bottle of vodka. You'd committed to showing her some compassion tonight.

"I know." The tension drops, and she just leans her head forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder. You can't help but hug her, feeling the heavy way she sighs as you're giving her a reassuring pat on the back. The two of you stay like that for a very long few minutes until you hear her start crying again.

"Do you wanna borrow some pyjamas?" You ask softly, and feel her nod.

The rest of the night is quiet after that, taking care of this distraught young woman who got her heart broken by your best friend. It reminds you of nights you'd spend with Venetia back at Saltburn.

Annabel sits on your bathroom counter patiently, ankles crossed, watching the way you focus as you wipe off her makeup with meticulous care. When you take off her necklace, you coil it delicately on top of the nice clothes she'd been wearing, now sitting on top of her shoes by your door. At first she tries to wave you off when you offer to brush out her hair -

"There's -" she hiccups; the full bottle of vodka has finally hit her, but still she tries to shake her head, "too much hairspray, it'll be a hassle -"

"I'll be gentle," you told her softly, assurance in your eyes and a warm smile on your lips, "if you'll let me." Annabel melts under that gaze, sitting in borrowed pyjamas, face clean, cross-legged on your bed in the lamp light. You treat her with the gentlest care, brushing out her hair while you can still hear her occasional sniffles; she sits as primly as she's able, only apologising once at the start for it's length. You assured her it's fine.

"You scare me sometimes," Annabel mutters into the quiet, voice watery. For a moment, you pause.

"Me?"

"Both- both of you. You and Felix," she sniffles again, "and Farleigh too now, I guess," you can tell she swallows thickly, voice catching in her throat. When she tries to dip her head, she can feel the way you're still holding gently, still working, and she apologises faintly. Carefully, quietly, giving her space to organise her tipsy, upset thoughts, you continue to brush out her hair.

"Never met anyone like you, you know? Didn't think people like you guys existed. You're always everything; the most without even trying," she takes a deep breath, but it's undercut by a faint sob that's almost a chuckle, "I kind of think you don't even know what I mean- you especially, you know?" You... don't.

You brush, only giving a faint apology, but all she does is fidget, the words spilling unrehearsed from her, things she's clearly been bottling for far too long -

"Felix is everything everyone wants, and you're everything everyone wants him to be," she says it so forlornly, "the sun and it's fucking warmth," then, almost disgusted as she spits it under her breath, "I think about how he's never going to fuck me the way he looks at you while he's shitfaced, how sick is that?"

With a few more strokes her hair is brushed out, and without even thinking you start to braid it. Annabel's dissolved into tears again, her face in her hands, but you're just careful not to tug on her hair too hard as her whole body shakes with them.

"He never gave a proper shit about me, did he?" Annabel sobs as you're tying off the braid. The minute it's done, she turns and throws herself into your arms, sobbing against your chest, "I'm just another fucking girl to him!"

"He still loves you as a friend, I'm sure; you know how Fi is-" you pet her shoulder carefully as she clutches your shirt for dear life.

"I don't wanna be his fucking friend! I gave him my fucking heart and now he's probably got his dick in that slag India, who said she was my friend!" Spitting her words with fury, with venom, she looks up, but only sees a look of pitying apology in your eyes; she's probably right. Lip curling, she throws herself back on your bed, hands covering her face once more, "he doesn't fucking care," she groaned, fury turning poisonous with resignation, "I know he doesn't care; if I thought he truly cared I would have fucked Oliver -"

"What?"

"- Felix is so fucking fickle, god, seems like he doesn't even care about Oliver anymore, I should have- should have -" she continues on, but breaks down crying again. Getting off the bed, you leave for the common room for half a moment, filling it with water.

"Drink this," you instruct, sitting next to Annabel on the edge of the bed. She scowls, but follows your orders easily, even if she can't properly look you in the eye. The water seemed to have at least helped, as her crying quiets down as you refill the glass in your bathroom sink.

"I feel like shit," she mumbles, watching you come back into the room and place the cup on her bedside.

"Well you look pretty," you tell her teasingly, trying to lighten the mood even a little as you gently pinched her cheek. She does not appear to find the humour in the moment. Still, you turn off your lamp and climb over her into the bed, "please don't throw up in my bed or on my floor."

"I know where your bathroom is."

The two of you kick off the neat duvet but pull the thin, luxurious sheet over you both.

"Thank you..." it sounds begrudging as she says it. You tell her it's no stress, sitting up for a moment in order to open your window a crack, let a breeze in overnight, but still hear her when she says, "you're a bad friend."

Still sitting, you take a deep breath, sighing as a silhouette in the moonlight.

Annabel is more astute than you possibly gave her credit for in this state; amongst all her felt injustices, she'd never once asked about how you felt about Felix fucking India, your well established not-girlfriend. Because somehow she knew, perhaps even that you gave your blessing. You'd never been a cruel person as long as you could help it, but you'd made peace with your priorities too long ago to start apologising for them now. So yes, you'd taken Annabel in for the night, but she knew in her heart that you were partially at fault for her despair in the first place. You both knew.

Enabling Felix was never really about making anyone else happy.

"I know."

Something about your admission seems to be enough for Annabel, however. When you lay back down beside her, she curls up against you, tucks herself all along your side, arm around you, head on your chest.

The next morning, Annabel moves silently around your dorm. When you wake up, all that's even left of her presence is the empty cup of water on your bedside. No kind of note, no text, she'd made sure she didn't even wake you before leaving.

Fucking Christ, what a bloody week did yesterday feel like, is all you can think as the mid-morning sun slashes through your barely parted curtains and paints your chest with light.

You consider sleeping in, consider that you'd definitely earned it after yesterday, but then your phone starts ringing. It's Felix. He sounds grim.

"Hey, can you get over here? We need you."

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 10

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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Chapter summary: Past. Scott is frustrated that no one listens to him. Present. Once again, no one listens to Scott.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religious trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Before

When Logan was called into Charles's office, he knew it wasn't going to be good.

"Would you care to explain to me why one of my students saw you and Cyclops fighting last night?"

Logan didn't really want to deal with this. He had enough self hatred for whatever he did to make you cry, he didn't need Charles disappointed in him too.

"Are you gonna lecture Scott about it too?"

"I will be talking to him, as well as Remy and Miss Palmer. Fights are something I have to take seriously. What kind of example are you setting for the children?"

As much as Logan wanted to blame it all on Scott, make the little prick pay, he thought back to you. You liked Scott, you'd be upset if Scott got in trouble for you... It was best to just be honest.

"Listen Chuck, it was a mistake, but it wasn't Scotts fault, okay? I saw him messing with her sleeve, showing skin she don't like to show. You know how she is about that stuff." Charles nodded and raised a brow, clearly confused by Scotts actions but not jumping to conclusions. "I saw what he did, and you can't blame me for getting pissed, right? We went out back and fought, Remy broke it up. He only touched her like that because she was hiding... claw marks on back..."

Again, Charles was listening rationally. "And what were they from, son?"

Logan rolls his eyes, groaning. "you know what they were from, but it ain't like that. She came to me when I was having a nightmare and I must've scratched her in my sleep. I didn't even know I cut her until yesterday. Scott and I were both just trying to protect her, okay?"

For a long moment, Charles's eyes simple stayed locked with logan, watching him, searching him. Charles doesn't read minds unless he really needs to, seeing it was a violation of privacy he didn't use lightly.

"I know in the past I've told you i wouldn't tell you what to do, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to put my foot down about you and our young teacher."

He felt like a weight had been dropped on his stomach. "What?"

"I know a romance of sorts has formed, and I do not know how far it's gone nor do I care to. It needs to end. She is a child, Logan. I know she's opened up to you but i doubt she's told you the full story."

You hadn't, he knew, and Logan growled in frustration. "So tell me!"

"That is not my story to tell."

"But you can tell me not to see her? You don't think she can make her own choices?"

"She can't even choose what to make for dinner without crying. She's not at a place where she's ready to date."

But he'd take care of that. Logan would take care of dinner, he'd drive you anywhere and everywhere, he'd make sure you were happy and healthy and taken care of. You didn't need menial choices! You didn't need independence! You needed protection, a caretaker!

"So you just think I'm so fucking awful I'm gonna hurt that hurt, that what you think?"

"That is not what I'm saying."

Logan paused, staring down Charles and heavy breathing as he tried to control his anger. His hands fist the side of Charles's desk, knuckles turning white. He couldn't leave you alone. As soon as he saw you that day with Remy, he was cooked. By the time he got back to the mansion with you giggling at his side, Logan knew there was no future for him without you.

"Charles." Logan grinds out, jaw clenched. "I'm not going to hurt her. I love her."

At that, Charles softened a tad. "I know, son. But this is for the best. There are plenty of women here, women in this world that you could choose from. Why do you have to pick those you can't have?"

He was referencing Jean, of course.

"It's... not like that..."

You were different. You were soft and gentle and happy. You were kind and loving and you wanted him, him and only him. There was no Scott getting in the way. There were no powers, no mutations. Just a sweet girl who needed him to protect you. You were different from Jean.

"Logan, I'm sorry. But this is how it must be. I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt her, but she is fragile. For the record, I would say this if it was Scott, Remy, or Kurt. This is about her, not you."

Logan didn't believe that for a second, storming out the door and right past Scott who was waiting for his turn to speak to Charles.

After

God, this felt good.

The Monday after the schools prom.

2 days after Logan finally made love to you the way he wanted to, the way you deserved.

This morning, Logan walked you to your first class, your arm looped around his. You wore a tight dress for the first time in months to show off the pregnant stomach that swelled with his baby. His baby was growing inside you. The hallways hushed saved for the murmurs of students and teachers as he showed you off, both of you smiling. The secret was out. You were making your public debute.

Logan spotted Scott standing next to Jean, their conversation halted as he lead you to your classroom.

"Have a good day, dollface. I'll see you at lunch."

You beamed up at him in his arms. "You too Lo. I love you."

Then, making direct eye contact with Jean and then Scott, Logan took your chin in his hands and gave you a deep, open mouthed kiss. He heard a whistle from a student, but he didn't care as he slid his tongue inside you.

Scott stormed off, leaving jean behind. No doubt he was on his way to tattle to Charles now that he was back from his several month trip.

*

"I'm fine, Mr. Xavier. Really. Logan is good to me." You sat in front of your boss at his office. Scott had brought the new development to Charles immediately of course, and now you were being questioned. Logan had told you that Charles had instructed him to stay away from you, and now it was your job to convince him that everything was okay. For the sake of raising your baby in a two parent, loving and stable household, you'd omit how this happened, exactly. you'd push away your fears and focus on the man Logan had shown you he could be, not the version you worried was still lurking inside.

"Miss Palmer, Scott seems extremely worried. He is concerned that Logan has forced you into something or has harmed you in some way."

You resist the urge to vehemently defend Logan the way you had to Scott, but remember that that only served to make him more suspicious. Instead, you settle for indignation. "Mr. Xavier," You say in your best offended tone. "Logan loves me. he would never hurt me. he's not like Mark and frankly, I don't appreciate Mr. Summers throwing accusations around wildly. I thought after the incident at the dance where he was proven wrong, he would leave us alone, but he seems obsessive."

A small smile on Charles's face. "And you're aware of their history?"

"Yes, I am very aware. Mr. Summers won back Ms. Grey, so I don't understand why he can't just let Logan be happy. He's not a bad person, you know this. He's a good man, and he watches out for me."

A short pause. "Yes, I am aware Logan is a better man than Scott seems to think. If you would allow me to see into your mind, I can clear-"

"No." You say a little too quickly. Charles didn't force his way into peoples minds. You'd given him permission when you first met him so that he could see what happened to you, see what you did and why you felt no remorse for it. You would not allow that again, knowing what he'd see. He'd see Logan raping you, but he'd never understand why you defended him. He couldn't understand what you saw in Logan, the hope to put it all behind you and start new. "Forgive me, but I'm a private person. There are things I keep to myself."

He nods. "I understand. It seems, however, that you are quite distressed. I can sense it radiating off you. You have to understand my concern."

"Maybe my distress has to do with being raised in a cult, becoming a child bride and being beat for 7 years because i couldn't have a child which I was told was my only purpose in this world?"

Your words hung in the air, tension laced the nervous shuffling in your seat. You place a hand over your stomach. "I apologize, Mr. Xavier. Hormones. I-" You sigh, standing up. "We have an appointment, I have to go." You don't tell him it's your first appointment. You don't tell him you haven't seen a doctor because for the first 3 months you were convinced you would have an abortion. You didn't tell him Logan has to practically drag you here after everything you'd experienced from doctors before.

Charles watches you leave. "Don't be afraid to talk to me, child. We were here to help you. We won't fail you the way you have been failed before."

You almost laugh at that. "Please stop insinuating my boyfriend abuses me. That's how you can help." You open the door to see Logan right where you left him, waiting for you with worry in his eyes.

"Everything okay, Dolly?" He hugs you, eyes connecting over your shoulder to Charles.

"Yeah, everything's fine Lo. Let's go to the appointment."

*

"You can't fucking be serious!" Scott shouts as Remy leaves Charles's office. Scott insisted Charles speak to Remy, that surely her best friend would know something. But when Remy opened the door, and Charles said he's found nothing to suggest you are being harmed, Scott was infuriated.

Charles rolled over to where Scott and Remy stood. "She is insistent she is fine, and everyone we've spoke to says Logan never even raises his voice around her."

"But- months ago, something happened! She wasn't eating, the nightmares-" He gestures to Remy. "You said her nightmares got worse!"

Remy shrugs. "Lovers spat, Cher. She said they worked it out after she found out she was pregnant. It makes sense she's under stress right now, pregnancy outside of marriage is a shameful thing where she grew up."

Scott groans in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So you don't think it's suspicious she's pregnant? You don't think it's weird she's having sex this soon after leaving all that?"

"Cyclops." Charles warns, but Scott is just looking at remy now. How can he not see it?

Remy glares at Scott. "If you are suggesting Logan raped her you better come prepared to back that up other than this pissing contest between the two of you."

"It's not-"

"Accusing someone of rape is a big fucking deal you can't be throwing around. Last time you accused Logan of clawing her, you looked stupid so I would hope you have something more this time. Well, Scott, what do you have? What grand evidence is there that you can't just let them be happy?" When Scott didn't speak, Remy laughed. "Just as I thought, nothing. Go home to your wife, Scott."

Remy left the room, leaving Charles and Scott alone.

"You can't be serious, Charles."

The older man sighed, looking to his protégé. "Son, you know i respect your opinions and concerns. If you have any evidence-"

Scott heard enough, and stormed out. He wasn't crazy. he wasn't jealous. He didn't hate Logan simply because he fucked his wife. Okay well maybe that was the start. But this? This was wrong. You need help, even if you can't see it.

*

"Look so good like this, baby doll..." Logan mumbled into your neck. You and him laid on the couch watching Gladiator, but the movie was long forgotten. Who was Russel Crowe compared to Logan Howlett? He was hard against you, his cock pressed up against your ass underneath the blanket you insisted on because you were wearing a skirt, his arm wrapped around your middle, caressing your stomach. he was obsessed with your stomach, wanted to touch you there every chance he could.

"Logan, the movie," You giggle but make no attempt to stop as he kissed your neck. You loved the attention. You loved his gentle touches. You were nervous about having a baby, but Logan assured you every step of the way.

The appointment last week had gone well. You told the doctor you hadn't known you were pregnant, that it was a surprise, so he made sure to do a thorough check since you were 4 months along. You hadn't seen a doctor in all that time, but you had been eating well and Logan had brought you prenatal vitamins. Doctor said everything looked normal and healthy, thank god. You hadn't wanted this, not this way anyway, but you'd never forgive yourself if you somehow messed up your child's life with your indecision.

Logan's hands roamed your body under the blanket, humming against your skin. "My pretty wife... my perfect girl..." Logan had said he'd propose, that you and him were gonna get married... you were going to be a wife again. Logan's wife. he'd be different. This time would be different. You'd given logan a baby, so he had no reason to hurt you like Mark had.

"My husband..." You sigh, grinning ear to ear.

"You two are disgusting." Remy spoke, and you suddenly remembered he was in the chair, supposed to be watching the movie with you and Logan. You quickly grab Logan's hand away from where it was about to slide up your skirt, and sit up with a deep blush. Logan had promised to spend more time with Remy, you wanted them to be good friends. They were already casual friends long before you knew either one, but you wanted them to be closer. Remy was your family, the person other than Logan you spent the most time with. You had other friends now, Rogue and Ororo, and you and Emma had even begun to hang out, but Remy was your number one. He was the only person other than Logan and Charles you'd told about your past in full, although you suspected Scott knew from Charles.

Logan sat up with you, but didn't let you go, instead sitting you between his legs on his lap. His hands stayed far more decent now.

"Sorry..." You mumble, but Remy is smiling.

"Don't worry pistache, I'm just happy to see you finally together."

You tried to focus more on the movie, and not Logan's throbbing erection still nuzzled against you and how you were going to take care of it later. Everything was going fairly well. Logan slept in your room most nights, but sometimes you'd wake up to find him gone. Those were nights he had nightmares, so he got up and went back to sleep in his own room. If he was in a bad headspace he'd sleep away from you too, to not risk hurting you again.

Your nightmares, however, would not stop. Nearly every night you woke up in Logan's arms as he tried to gently wake you, the horrors of what you dreamed of still sharp and brutal in your mind. You couldn't understand why they hadn't stopped, why Logan's faded to less and less while yours increased. You were supposed to be in love. your happy ending with a husband and a baby... so where was the happy?

"Well, well, well, look who finally escaped the throuple from hell." From the doorway of the common room, and glib voice pulled everyone's attention to were Wade stood. You'd never met him, but you'd seen a few pictures here and there. He was someone Logan actually liked, and in his very minimalist decor of his room, there was a small framed picture of him and Wade Wilson together. Next to it now sat a picture from your first ultrasound.

"Shit, Wade" You can here the smile in logan's voice. "I didn't know you were coming."

Still grinning, Wade shrugged. "Yeah, well, I might have caused a few issues with the Time Variant Authority. Gross misuse of a time traveling device to save my girlfriend and all that. Gonna lay low for a bit, figured I'd come see you and my favorite piece of Cajun spiced ass."

Remy got up from his chair to greet Wade in a big hug. "Nice to see you too, asshole."

Logan spoke again. "I'd get up to say hi, but I'm pretty sure my dick would be saying hi too."

"Logan!" You admonish, face burning in embarrassment as your lover whispered a half-hearted apology in your ear.

"Oh-ho-ho, trust me peanut I would not be complaining." Wade looked to you. "And just who is this pretty piece of pumpkin pie?"

"Watch it, mouth." Logan growled behind you. "She's mine." Him calling you his made you warm up even more, as if the display every single morning as he walked you to class didn't say that enough.

"I see that!" Wade is nearly chuckling, a twinkle in his eye. Logan went to Wade's right after Jean chose Scott over him, so Wade was very aware of everything he'd been through. No doubt he was happy to see his friend in a better position. "No more crawling back to Jean and Scott like a lost wolvie?"

"I never fucked Scott you goddamn twink"

"Sure you didn't." Wade lifted himself off where he leaned against the wall, walking towards where you sat. You were raised to be polite, so much to Logan's grumbling you stood up. Logan covered his pants with the blanket. "Wade Wilson." He extended his hand. "And you are?"

"Judith Palmer." You gave him your fake name.

"My fiancé." Logan asserts from the couch.

With the blanket off, your pregnant stomach was on full display, and Wade's eyes nearly bugged out of his head looking at you.

"Good golly miss molly, she sure as hell is! Fucking hell, I've been in need of a good tea spill sesh, this is just the right time." A deep breath and a dreamy sigh, Wade looked between you, Logan, and Remy as he crossed his arms, grinning. "So tell me, how did all this happen?"

Sorry it took so long to update!!!! I've been, frankly, very sick. If you havnt seen my posts, I spent one weekend literally friday to monday laid up, so lethargic i couldn't lift my arms sometimes. I have an amazing roommate whose in nursing school who i love dearly who took care of me.

two weeks later im still sick. Not lethargic and feverish but bronchitis now :( suffering.

And i still have school to catch up on.

but i finally got a better laptop thanks to black friday sales which has made doing stuff fast without lagging and crashing unexpectedly.

so, WELCOME WADE WILSON!!!!!!

And scott, poor scott. I've been telling my friend whose not a fanfiction reader about this series and shes been helping me with things, she says the fact that scott is the only one who sees something is wrong and no one is listening to him is "biblically accurate scott summers" LMFAOOOO

We're probs not gonna meet all the xmen, even the ones i actually know. Idk if we'll even see kurt again. but they are around! scott, remy, and wade will be the biggest piece.

thanks so much for all the love!!!

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstarr @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 2/?)

(sorry if this chapter is on the shorter side, I got back on a med I hadn't had in a while because my doctors weren't refilling it, and one of the side effects of this med is making me tired and fatigued. I honestly didn't even know if I would get chapter 8 of The Red Queen so I'm really sorry if this is short, or not written well or anywhere near as well as I try usually, I'm just trying to stay awake to get this out. sorry for the rant I'm gonna let you read now lol)

28 ac

Rhaellas Pov

I try not to fidget as Papa makes a speech, it's my sixth nameday which means I'm officially a big girl. 

“I warn you all, our little girl is a curious one. She will ask about the gift you have given her and want all the details. There is a reason we call her our curious dragon.” Papa says making all the lords laugh and making me blush and hide my face in my hands.

“So let us feast on this great day as we celebrate my sweet little girl, my firstborn, for her sixth nameday!” Papa finishes making everyone cheer as they take sips of their wine.

He bends down and kisses my forehead and whispers. “Happy nameday my curious dragon.” 

“Thank you, Papa.” I say making him smile before he and Mama walk down the steps of the high table to talk to some of the lords.

“When will you get to open your presents?” Rhaena asks picking at the food on her plate.

“Yeah, we're bored!” Aegon my little brother exclaims. He's only two but he's very smart, Mama calls him her little genius.

“I'm sure Papa or Grandsire will announce when I can open them.” I say grabbing Aegon's arm before he runs off. Have I mentioned he also never stops running! How he can run into a tree head first and laugh before running again is beyond me. I hope the baby in Mama's belly is a girl, I can't handle another brother.

“I want to see the dragons!” Aegon demands stomping his feet.

He always throws tantrums if he doesn't get his way so I try and find Mama or Papa in the crowd of lords and ladies.

“Don't speak to your sister that way boy.” I hear the deep and cold voice of Kepus. 

Aegon stops and turns to look up at him just when I do too. I know Kepus must be mad from the scowl on his face.

“I just wanted to say hi to Quicksilver.” Aegon says sheepishly already turning to hide in the shirts of my dress.

Kepus only hums before taking a sip of wine from his chalice. Thankfully for Aegon and Rhaena Papa and Mama seem to have had their nursemaids come to get them as it's time for them to go to sleep.

Once my siblings are taken away Kepus sits in the chair next to me that was previously taken by Rhaena.

“Happy nameday, ñuha prūmia. I got you something.” He says as he reaches into his jerkin pocket. He holds something in his fist holding it out to me. “Hold your hands out, ñuha prūmia.”

I do as he told me, holding my hands out under his. When he opens it I'm ready to catch something but nothing falls into my hands, but when I look at his hand I see he's dangling a beautiful necklace from his pointer finger. It has purple stones that appear almost like tear drops, and the metal looks like a darker silver. 

“Happy nameday, ñuha prūmia.”

“It's wonderful, where did you get it?” I ask, reaching out to feel the cool metal against the skin of my palms.

“It was in our family archives, supposedly it was Daenys the Dreamers. It's made of Valyrian steel and is encrusted with amethysts. Daenys was always said to love amethysts.” He says with a soft smile.

“Daenys? she wore this?” I ask excitedly, he knows how much I adore Daenys the Dreamer. I've probably made him read me the story of her more than a hundred times by now.

“That's what the Maester said, now turn around let me help put it on you.” He says in that tone that I know means he's not asking, he's telling. 

So I do as he says turning in my seat so my back is to him and grab my curly hair hoping I got it all. I feel the chill of the metal against my throat as I feel Kepus clip it. 

“There, now let me see.” I hear him say as he gently takes my hair out of my hands so it can fall down my back once more

I turn and look up at him watching as he smiles fondly. “Lovely, it matches your dress wonderfully, but it matches those eyes much better.” 

I smile touching the pink velvet dress Mama gave me for my Nameday. It has gold dragon embroidered along the skirt and at the neckline. But for some reason his words about my eyes is what makes me blush. But my joy is soon cut off my none other than Ceryse Hightower.

“I see you've given her the present you chose.” She says resting her hand on Kepus's shoulder. 

I watch as he tense something dark, something cruel flashes in his eyes before they become the stoney ones he lets the world see. 

I like the ones he has with me much better. I think before turning to his wife.

“Yes, it's a wonderful gift.” I say trying to stay kind even though I don't like her.

I never knew why I didn't like her, she's kind, gentle, sweet, but she's so boring. Her idea of fun is sitting and sewing, my idea of fun is running in the fields or flying with Papa or Grandsire. 

“That's wonderful, I'm glad you like it. Maegor worked very hard to find it. Had to be the perfect one, he said.” She says smiling at Kepus but he only seems to be getting more and more upset.

Cersye seems to catch the tense atmosphere and hands me a black leather journal with red ribbon to tie it. It seems to be imprinted with the Targaryen symbol on the front and back.

“As you are six namedays you'll start your studies with a Septa. I found having a journal helped me to remember my lessons and to take notes. I hope it helps you as much as having one helped me.” 

I can't deny that it's a thoughtful gift, and one she seems to have commissioned just for me. She obviously didn't just pick this up at some random book store in a rush. I think, feeling the soft leather against my palms.

“Thank you, it's a lovely gift. I'm sure it will get much use.” I say setting it back on the table. 

I'm about to ask if Kepus will dance with me when I hear the music start but his wife beats me to it.

“Dance with me, darling? You know this is my favorite.” She asks, already pulling him out of his chair.

I watch as he walks away with her to dance, I don't know why it hurts my heart seeing him with her, but it does. I hear a dragon roar from outside, it gives a pull at my soul like always.

“Come to me! I'm waiting!” it's starting to sound desperate, if only I could find out where it is. No, where she is.

This is the necklace Maegor gies Rhaella, or at least what I see lol

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl

[lokisprettygirl]

Close Ties (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Modern AU) (Non canon) (18+)

Read Chapter 17 // Series Masterlist

Chapter 18 (Last)

Summary : You and Daemon get your happy beginning.

He looked down at you to gauge the look on your face and to double check if you really said that to him or he was just going through intense bouts of auditory hallucinations.

“What?”

His brows scrunched as he looked at you so you pulled him out of your mouth to give him a sweet smile before you went back to licking him again,

“Pixie” he mumbled your name so you stopped and placed the cock flat on his stomach before you licked his balls one by one, your eyes were glued to him and he was conflicted between the pleasure he was receiving and wanting to hear more about what you had said to him.

“You have no right to be as handsome as you are uncle” he squeezed his eyes shut as you placed your lips on his balls and sucked harshly, “Dreamt of doing this for so long..this doesn't even feel real at times”

He let out a loud grunt that you knew won't go unnoticed if someone was standing right outside your door.

“I want you to take care of me uncle”

He looked at you sharply as you said that “Do I not take care of you sweetheart?”

“You do..more than any man had ever done ..but I need you to take care of me at work”

“I don't understand –”

“You will ..once you're done feeding me your cum”

“Fuck darling”

“Ohh I'm going to don't you worry..ill make you the happiest man on earth i promise..you won't leave me right?”

“I'm not going anywhere”

You smiled before you sucked him in as deep as you could, sucked him until you were choking on his cock, as his release seeped down your throat you felt your whole body shivering with several different sensations.

You kept your eyes hooked on him, observed how his forehead creased as he rode his high and how his mouth stayed open, one of his hands clutched onto the door knob while the other ran over your scalp in circular patterns.

“Hey there” you smiled as he looked down at you. You got up and brought a napkin to clean him up before you tucked his cock inside his pants and buttoned it up.

“Would you like to kiss me after i had your cock in my mouth…you know some guys don't–”

“Shut the fuck up little brat” he wrapped his hands around your ass and pulled you closer to him as he kissed you as passionately as he could. The conversation could wait, he thought.

Once he was done showing you the appreciation for rocking his world he pulled away from you a little even though you were still in his arms..

“Now about that bomb you dropped on me–” his voice had a stern inflection to it which made you feel that he wasn't really happy about the prospect, any other man would have jumped on the opportunity.

“I want you to take over, you know you'd do it better anyways”

“It's not a joke sweetheart, your father gave you that position -”

“Exactly my father gave me that position..I sure as hell didn't earn it..Remember that convention I went to last month? All the CEO'S from different companies were over there and you have no idea how stupid I felt between them”

“Darling –” as you spoke you quickly interrupted him,

“No..don't darling me, I know I'm not suitable for this position and I don't trust anyone else to take that seat either”

“So what will you do huh? You're going to sit here at home and be my housewife or something?”

“Yeah..you mind that? What's wrong with being one” you played with his tie so he gave you a sharp glare,

“Nothing is wrong with that love..you know it won't matter to me, but you can't just throw away your privileges like this. Have you talked about this with your mother?”

He asked you so you shook your head.

“It's my decision Daemon..I'm not a kid.. besides I don't want to be a housewife..well not yet at least. I want to work..for you..under you uncle” you whispered seductively so he groaned again.

“Stop calling me uncle..”

A playful smile graced your features as he said that.

“I want to be under you in every possible way. I need you to teach me everything, I need to learn about what it takes to be in that position and perhaps someday when I'm ready I'll take over again..i have already discussed this with our board members and they all agree it's the right thing to do”

“And you think someday when you want to take back that position I'll just hand it to you?” You giggled as he smirked at you. His statement didn't even make you worry or flinch..you knew he'd never hurt or betray your trust like that.

“Mmmm i wouldn't want you to hand it to me just like that…make me work and sweat for it uncle” you whispered in his ear and he immediately picked you up in his arms to take you to bed.

He wasn't making it to work today it seems. He wasn't entirely sure about this decision but you were and that was all he needed to know about that, if you weren't able to deal with the pressure just yet then he didn't want to force you to do something you didn't want to do. He wasn't going to be your father, he wanted to be your lover.

Your mother was a bit apprehensive but not really surprised when she heard of your decision.

You missed your father, you really did but as days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months you moved on from the pain and you knew someday your eyes won't tear up with grief whenever you'd think of him, someday you'd remember him as the man who had kept you safe and secured all your life.

A year later when truth of your relationship with Daemon was revealed to the public, he was demonized immediately, your childhood pictures with him were leaked, he was called all sorts of horrible names but he didn't care, people doubted his intentions, making conspiracies theories regarding how Daemon came back with an agenda and how he killed your father first and used you to get everything in his favor, him taking over as the CEO only made the matters worse for him. It affected you but it didn't affect him in the slightest, what other people thought of him didn't matter at all to him.

“She's so beautiful” you mumbled as you looked at Rhaenyra doing her first dance with Harwin at their wedding reception.

“Well she's my niece”

You smiled and turned to kiss his cheek. Throughout the reception you couldn't stop thinking about it, your wedding with Daemon and how magical that day would be. You stared down at the ring on your finger and your heart fluttered like it did everytime you thought about how beautiful your life seemed at the moment.

As Rhaenyra walked towards you, she already seemed a bit tipsy, she hugged Daemon and then crushed you in her arms. Her happiness was definitely contagious tonight.

“God I'm so happy for all of us” she mumbled hurriedly and that made you smile “Thank God for that letter your father left behind for you two huhhhh” she said in her drunken spur before Harwin came and dragged her away.

At the mention of the letter you looked at Daemon and he already had his eyes on you.

He was a man of pride, a man of his words, he never would have broken the promise he had given to your father if it wasn't for that letter. You knew that about him and you wouldn't have done that either, you were willing to sacrifice your happiness for that promise.

He knew that about you.

But you loved him more than anything and he had come to love you more than his life, you had become his only reason to live and move forward. He loved you and he wasn't willing to lose you and you weren't willing to lose him..not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

“You have no idea how happy you make me do you?” You asked him as you sat down on his lap, the fine lines on his face always made you want to kiss each and everyone of them so that's what you did.

“I do..you wake me up with my cock in your mouth three times a week so I definitely know” you chuckled as he said that ,

“I didn't know you were keeping the count” he leaned in to kiss you as you said that.

Your relationship wasn't perfect, you both had issues but those issues never became a throne in your relationship with him, even if there was an argument or a disagreement you both made sure to not leave each other's side over something so trivial.

“I love you Pixie pie” he mumbled

“I love you baby” you cupped his cheeks to kiss him lovingly “Thank God for that letter right?” You looked at him and there was a hint of hesitation on his face but then he gave you his typical Daemon smile.

“Absolutely”

He knew that letter wasn't written by your father, he knew that wasn't his handwriting. He knew your father didn't want you two together. And you? Well you recognised the handwriting in the letter, it was of your mother's, and it was written after his death.

But both of you kept the pretenses up, both hid the truth from each other to protect each other, you lied to each other to be together.

A relationship that was built on a lie? Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing afterall.

Perhaps the truth will be revealed one day and you'll no longer have to lie. But for now, you'd keep going to protect these Close Ties.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Taglist

Note: Everyone who read, reblogged, commented and appreciated, thank you guys. Really you have no idea how much it meant to me 🥹 you guys are the reason I was able to finish this story ❤️

@serving-targaryen-realness @annoyingsweetsstranger @anukulee @mcufan72 @insertsomethingsillyhereple-blog @silentf @ajthefujoshi @stupidthoughtsinwriting @ammo23 @shuichiakainx @daddylokisqueen @ipostwhtifeel @anehkael @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @dixie-elocin @urmomsgirlfriend1

@sweatyroadcowboyjudge

[sissylittlefeather]

Bonded: Part 5

That's What You Get For Loving Me

A/N: Sorry this took so long! This chapter was a pain in my butt, but I think it's finally ready for public eyes. Also, there's only one more chapter of this one, so enjoy it while you can!

Special thanks to @ccab and @atleastpleasetelephone for helping me work out some kinks (not the good kind).

Get caught up: Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also they're vampires so blood, biting, blood drinking, and Lisa Marie is really ill

Word count: ~2.9k

“My baby girl is gonna die, isn't she?”

You lay together in silence and the thought hits him that at least he'll have you when it happens.

******

You stay with Elvis through the end of his Vegas engagement, splitting your time between his suite, his shows, and the hospital. After about three days, he convinces you to quit your job and move into his suite with him. Honestly, it doesn't take much convincing to get you to do it. If it weren't for Lisa Marie's illness, you would be wrapped in a blissful blanket of love together. You're both excited to have someone to feed from regularly, somehow sustaining each other without the need for any humans. And the sex is phenomenal every time, so for the most part, you're happy.

Still, you both spend a lot of time trying to research and find a way to help Lisa Marie. You pore over books about healing, trying to figure out if there's something you can do. You try several different things, but nothing works.

When his Vegas shows end, he assumes you'll accompany him to Graceland, and you do because what else would you do? One afternoon you're laying in bed together still naked from a passionate session of lovemaking when he has an idea.

“What about Mary?”

“What about her?” You're not sure where he's going with this.

“Would she know about something to help Lisa Marie?”

“Maybe, but I'm not sure.” You sit in deep thought for a while before it hits you like a ton of bricks. Why haven't you thought of it before?! “I bet my mother knows something!”

He looks at you funny, like he needs to say something but isn't sure it's okay to say. Finally, he breaks down and just asks.

“Your mother is alive?”

“No, I guess I should clarify. I call the woman who turned me my mom. She's very motherly. But she was a healer for her people before she was turned! She knows all kinds of ancient wisdom. I haven't seen her in a long time, though.” He sits up and looks at you seriously.

“If you think she can help, we should talk to her.”

“We'll have to take a trip to the mountains. She doesn't own a phone.” He lays back down and pulls you in close to him.

“I'll charter a plane. We'll go tonight.”

******

His bodyguards are reluctant to let him go anywhere without them, but he reminds them that he'll be fine by extending his fangs. Besides, it's not like you're going anywhere with a lot of people.

Once you land and get a car, you begin your journey up into the mountains. It's been a while, but you still remember how to get to her house. For the most part, you ride in silence through the tall trees, both of you nervous for how this encounter might turn out. When you pull up to the rusty old gate, Elvis shuts the car off and looks at you.

“This is the closest I'll ever get to meeting your family. Should I be nervous?” You laugh a little.

“No, you handled Mary okay. Ama is only around 400 years old, so she's much more lenient. She'll be surprised to see a male vampire, though. I know she had a hand in eradicating them.”

“Eradicating them?!”

“They had become too dangerous and out of control. They weren't all like you.” Elvis thinks of the times he's almost fully drained women unintentionally, the near-cruelty with which he's treated them at times, and nods. Maybe he would be dangerous if he wasn't himself.

At the door, you knock on the ivy-covered wood and wait for a bit. Before too long, a small brown woman with long black braids opens the door and Elvis sighs, assuming you have the wrong house. But instead, you throw yourself into her arms.

“Mother.” She holds you comfortably, despite being shorter than you. After a few seconds, you pull back and turn to introduce Elvis. He nods and smiles, secretly hoping she'll assume he's human. It's better to be considered a child than a threat. Instead, she purses her lips.

“You two better come inside.” He follows you into the cozy room with a wood-burning stove almost in the center. She gestures for you both to have a seat on a small, plush couch and then settles herself in a rocking chair. “So you've made yourself a male vampire companion.”

You shake your head vehemently. Her tone indicates that this disappoints her.

“No! I didn't make him to be my companion. I just… made him…” You’re struggling to articulate exactly why you turned Elvis into a vampire. In all honesty, other than because he asked, you don't really have a reason.

“I knew you were a risk. Always weak around human men, refusing to kill them when necessary.” She stares coldly at Elvis, who bristles defensively in response. Without thinking, you put your hand on his knee and feel him relax a little. When she catches the interaction, she inhales sharply. “And you've bonded with him!”

“No! No I didn't!” She shakes her head.

“Don't lie to me, child. I can smell it on both of you-” Something snaps inside of Elvis and he yells.

“Yes! I'm a vampire. I made her do it. And yes, we are bonded. That was my idea too. I'm evil. Can we move on?” And then he gets quiet and looks at you. “Every second you sit here talking is another second that we lose Lisa Marie.”

You nod slowly, resisting the urge to kiss him. But Ama watches the way you look at each other and softens a bit.

“Who is Lisa Marie?” Elvis turns back to her.

“She's my daughter. She's 3 and she's dying. I don't know what to do.” His voice catches on the last part and you take his hand, squeezing gently.

“I'm not sure what you think I can do.” She holds her hands up like she has nothing to offer.

“Weren't you a healer?” You ask, worried that you've come all this way for nothing.

“I was, but this is- wait.” Ama leans forward in her chair. “Were you a vampire when she was conceived?”

Elvis looks at you, almost embarrassed about the fact that he has a child with another woman, but you know he's married. It's not a shock that his child has a different mother.

“Yes.” Ama laughs and leans back with her hand on her forehead. You and Elvis look at each other perplexed. She sits up and speaks quietly.

“She’s half-vampire and will likely turn fully when she becomes a woman. She needs blood.” Elvis stands up, excitedly, dragging you with him.

“What do you mean?!” Ama rises slowly and smiles.

“She is part of you, part vampire. The reason her body hasn't healed is because it needs blood, your blood, to come back to health. Give her just a little of your blood over a series of days and she will be fine.” Elvis laughs loudly as the tears start to stream down his cheeks. For a split second, it hits you that his daughter will probably be a vampire too. He obviously hasn't realized what this might mean and you're not about to tell him right now. Instead, you push that thought away and focus on the fact that she will, in fact, survive.

“That's why she hasn't… oh my God. It's so simple.” He can hardly make words, he's so excited and relieved. Your eyes fill with tears too and it doesn't take long for him to wrap you fully in his arms and kiss you. “Oh God, honey. We can help her!”

He lets go of you just long enough to turn and hug Ama. Her eyes are wide with shock at how tender and loving he seems with you, about his daughter, and even with his arms around her.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She pats him on the back gently. When he pulls away, she grabs his face in both hands.

“You be good to her, okay? You seem different than the others. You be good to her or you'll have me to answer to.” He nods, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I love her, ma'am. I'll take care of her.” She moves her hands away, nodding.

“Good.”

******

On the plane, Elvis’s leg bounces with nervous energy. You're sitting across from him on the small private jet. There's a stewardess somewhere, but he got annoyed and compelled her to stay away. So it's just the two of you for the next hour or so.

The thought enters your mind again that Lisa Marie will probably be a vampire someday. You look at Elvis and decide this isn't the time to talk about it. You need a distraction and so does he.

“Hey, baby?” You ask quietly and he looks up at you like he's forgotten you're there.

“Yeah?”

“You wanna feed?” He seems to be considering it for a bit before he shakes his head.

“No, honey, I'm okay.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and walk over to him.

“You're really not.” He pulls you down into his lap and buries his face in your hair. You stroke the back of his head and whisper. “C’mon, baby.”

He grunts as you expose your neck to him. It's true he hasn't fed in a couple of days. The tantalizing smell of your blood is so tempting that his fangs emerge and he moans softly. His cock twitches in his pants and he feels it start to harden at the thought of having you in more ways than one. But he's flooded with guilt at the same time, thinking about his own pleasure when his daughter might die. You anticipate what he's thinking and murmur.

“Elvis, I know Lisa is still sick, but there's nothing we can do about it on this plane.” He realizes you're right and pulls your lips down to his, letting his tongue push past your fangs to explore your mouth. The kiss heats up quickly as he begins to pull at your clothes.

“Need you, honey.” He whispers in your ear as you whimper and grind your ass on him a little bit. You feel his erection and put your hand on him over his pants. He groans softly. “You wearin’ panties, honey?”

“Yes.” You moan into his mouth.

“Take ‘em off.” Without another thought, you stand up and obey, sliding your panties down your legs. He drags his hand up the inside of your thigh and runs his fingers through your folds. “Oh, baby. Feels like you need it too.”

“I do… need you so bad baby…” You whimper. He grunts again and pushes his middle finger up into you, pumping it in and out for a bit. Then, he slides it out and pats your ass.

“Bend over, baby.” You do as you're told and bend over, putting your hands on the short table that is between your chairs. He flips your skirt up over your ass and moans with the sight of your glistening wet pussy in front of him. “Goddamn, honey.”

And then he dives in tongue first, shoving it as deep inside you as it'll go. He fucks you with his tongue for a bit before he moves down, licking your clit with a fervor you've never experienced before. You moan loudly and he tries not to smile. He loves to eat you out any way he can, but you bent over like this doesn't happen often.

“Fuck, baby… that's good.” You whimper as he continues to lick and suck and tongue fuck your pussy, pushing you to the edge of an orgasm pretty quickly.

“Cum for me, honey.” He mumbles against you, sending his tongue to dart out and tease your clit. You moan and push back, losing all control. He presses his tongue inside you again and then goes back to working your clit. “Come on, baby. Just let go; I'm right here.”

You whimper and pant as your orgasm closes in on you and you almost scream as it rattles your whole body, rushing through you from your pussy right out to your fingertips and back again. He feels the way you pulse on his tongue and licks you through your climax.

When you finally come down, you hear him unzip his pants and pull his cock free. He grabs you around the waist and pulls you back down into his lap. You groan as you sink down onto him, pushing him so deep inside you.

“That's my girl.” He whispers in your ear. You moan and start to bounce on him while he guides your hips. “Fuck, baby.”

He makes some kind of noise between a moan and a grunt and holds your hips as he starts to thrust into you from underneath. Then, you take over again, grinding back against him, pushing him deeper and deeper.

“Gettin’ close. Don't stop, baby.” You bounce on his cock as fast and hard as you can and feel him start to throb inside you. Then, he moans loudly, grabs your hips in a bruising grip, and slams you one last time. “Fuck! Yeah, baby.”

When he finishes, he holds you still in his lap, pulling your body back against him as he moves your hair and bites into your neck with his dick still nestled in your pussy. You groan as he drinks you, reveling in the sensation of this highest level of intimacy. After a few seconds, he backs off, licking your puncture wounds so that they'll heal faster.

“You like it when I bite you like that? With my cock inside you?” He whispers in your ear and your pussy clenches around him. You shift a little and he groans. “Turn around and feed, baby.”

Without hesitation, you turn and straddle him. He's soft, but he uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit as he moves his head to give you access to his neck. You moan and whimper as he drags his thumb faster and faster over you. Another orgasm threatens to overwhelm you and you lean forward and graze your fangs against his skin.

“That's it, baby. I want you to cum and bite me.”

“Fuck… Elvis… ohhhh!” Just as your climax hits, you sink your teeth deeply into his neck and whimper as the sweet taste of his blood washes over your tongue. He holds your hips tightly and lets you drink your fill. When you finally come down and back off of him, he pulls you into a kiss that's all fangs and tongues and blood. He pulls back and presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Elvis.” The captain comes over the PA system to announce your descent into the Memphis airport. Elvis squeezes you one more time and then pats your ass. He helps you put your panties back on, but doesn't let you go sit in your own seat. Instead, he wraps his arms tightly around you. You tap on his arm. “Baby, I need my seatbelt.”

“No, you don't. I've got you.” You giggle and relax against him. The plane lands just fine and you both sigh deeply.

Back to reality.

******

Finally, you arrive at the hospital and make your way to Lisa Marie’s room. When you walk in, Elvis demands that everyone leave. They look at him like he has three heads, but he says it again and you hear his voice take on that eerie quality that it does when a vampire is compelling someone. It doesn't take much longer for them to clear the room and leave you and Elvis alone with Lisa Marie.

“How do I give her my blood?” He looks at you helplessly.

“I'm not sure. Maybe just drop some on her tongue? Ama said it didn't need to be much at all. And then once she's awake we can give her a little more until she's fully recovered.” He nods and pulls his sleeve up.

“Baby, would you bite me?” You walk over to him and take his arm.

“Why?”

“Your bites are gentler. Please?” Nodding, you lean forward and carefully sink your fangs into his flesh. “Mmm, see that hurts a lot less. When you do it it feels good.”

You have to actively stop yourself from feeding so he can get some blood for Lisa, but it's not easy to pull your mouth away from his arm. Even after feeding on the plane, he tastes so good it's hard to pull back. He strokes your hair with his other hand.

“Thank you, baby.” He dips his fingers in the small pool of blood that's gathered on his arm. Then, he takes his fingers and opens Lisa's mouth, meticulously placing a few drops on her tongue. When he's finished, he stands back and watches like she's going to wake up right away.

“It'll probably take some time to work. Come sit down.” He nods and pulls both of your chairs up to the side of the bed.

With one hand, he holds Lisa Marie’s, making soft circles on the back of hers. He leans back a little, though, to let you settle on his shoulder. His arm snakes around your waist and pulls you in close so he can kiss you on the forehead. You drift off to sleep in his arms and he looks at you and then Lisa Marie, thinking he has everything he needs right now at this moment, as long as everyone wakes up in the morning.

******

Almost the End!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[ramblingautisticman]

A Gift In The Making

Chapter 1 - Decorating In November

Summary : Logan has a problem. What the fuck does he get Wade for Christmas?

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3.)

(Okay, so I'm pretty excited about this little fic! Hopefully everyone enjoys it! Not sure when the next chapter will be out, but I know the last one will be out on Christmas Day! Anyway, enjoy, and link to the A03 version in is in the title!)

--------------------------------------------------------

Logan had left Wade in bed at roughly 9am, getting up to let Mary Puppins out to pee and by the time he got back, Logan was met with Wade decorating the apartment for Christmas. In November.

They had moved in a week ago- had all their belongings still in boxes- but apparently he had found the Christmas stuff.

Music was playing softly in the background as Wade stood in the corner of the living room, hanging ornaments on a tall pine tree (that he really hoped was plastic), humming along to the whatever festive song was playing.

"You uh...you know it's not even December yet, right princess?" He asked as he stepped inside and closed the door, placing Mary down on the floor, watching as she ran over to Wade's feet.

"Peanut! Your back! And yes, I know it isn’t December yet, but who doesn't love the festive spirit? Plus, this is your first Christmas here, and our first Christmas together, so I wanted to get a head start on it! Also, I may have seen a tiktok where someone put their decorations up and I instantly needed to put our tree up." Wade rambled, kneeling down to pet Mary's head, then standing back up and walking over to Logan with a huge smile on his face.

And okay, initially he was thinking of telling Wade to take it down for atleast a few more weeks, but he looks so happy that he couldn't bring himself to do so. "Well- it looks good. I like the tinsel." He comment, kissing Wade briefly on the lips before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a soda from the fridge.

He had been sober for a good 4 months now, and Logan wasn't planning on breaking that anytime soon. Wade made it easier, helped when he had a rough day, and they kept alot of soda in the fridge so he could have something in a can. It helped, having something familiar.

"You know, you've never mentioned anything about celebrating holidays. You better celebrate Christmas- if you don't because of religious reasons or whatever, fine- but I'm keeping my decorations up. It took me years to collect all of them!" Wade's voice brought him away from his thoughts, opening the can with a small chuckle, looking up at the other.

"I'm not religious. I don't think I could be living with you- I'd be going to hell if I was." He joked, sipping on his soda before leaning against the counter behind him. "Anyway, I do like Christmas. Just- haven't celebrated in awhile. That's all. Never really had anyone to celebrate with after....everything." Logan added on quietly, looking away.

It was still hard to talk about- his X-Men and what happened to them- but he was getting better. He didn't have a panic attack when people mentioned them now, and he could bring them up himself without feeling sick, which he thought was progress.

Christmas had always been a big deal in the mansion. Mostly for the kids- the ones who didn't have anywhere else to go. The team always made sure that they got to have a christmas like any other kid- getting them each a few presents that they wanted- and showed them that they always had a family here. No matter what.

Logan had never thought about celebrating Christmas after they died, or any other event for that matter. Birthdays, Halloween, Christmas- they had all been such happy funfilled events with the whole school that they left a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he thought of them.

But here he was, a new family and a new home, people to celebrate with. It had been strange, having people to do that with.

They celebrated everything together. Birthdays, Halloween, and anything else that gave them a reason to all gather at Wade's place and eat pizza. Why wouldn't Christmas be the same?

"Well....we don't have to celebrate. If you don't want too- I don't mind. I can deal with it like the big boy I am- but I do expect you to watch some 90 Day Fiance with me as thanks to my understanding." Wade teased, hoping to lighten the mood as he moved to stand infront of Logan, gently wrapping his arms around the others neck.

Logan smiled alittle, looking back towards Wade's eyes, and placing his free hand on his waist. "No- we can celebrate. Just haven't in awhile, that's all. Makes me remeber celebrating with the team...but, I will be very happy to spend Christmas with you and your friends." He said softly, kissing Wade with a smile, slowly pulling away after a second. "Plus, you seem very excited.....and I really don't want to watch that crap again." Logan added, a smirk on his face.

"They are OUR friends Peanut. And yeah- it's always been my favourite holiday. Ever since I was a kid. It was the one day I got a break from my asshole dad, because my family would come over and he couldn't yell at me with guests there. Anyway- away from the angsty headcannons the author clearly wants to insert- do you wanna help me put the rest of the lights on the tree?" Wade asked with a kiss to Logan's cheek, moving away and towards the living room again. "Also, that show is hilarious and you should love it!"

For the rest of November, they would cuddle on the couch under the Christmas tree lights, watching reruns of Golden Girls on the TV that was surrounded by small decorations.

And as Christmas got closer and closer (and by closer and closer, Logan means 3 weeks away), Wade got to planning the big day itself, running everything past Logan as he did.

"So, Laura said she wants to come over Christmas Eve and stay the night- which I'm all for! I'm thinking we can watch movies and eat cookies and it'll be awesome!" "Do you think Al would like a new TV for Christmas?" "We need to get Mary Puppins an ugly Christmas sweater Peanut!"

It seemed never ending, but Logan could see how much this all meant to Wade, so Logan agreed with whatever his partner wanted. He didn't mind what they did, as long as their family were over. Plus, he was alittle distracted with something himself.

He didn't know what to get Wade. At all.

Logan had already gotten everyone else presents (Wade had dragged him to the mall the second week of November), with most of them being from Wade and Logan as joint gifts, but Wade was different. Wade needed something special.

This was their first Christmas together and Wade had done so much for him over this past 10 months, letting him move in with him and teaching him to love again- so Logan wanted (needed) to find a gift that showed how much he cared for him. How much he appreciated everything Wade had done.

And you'd think, well Wade likes so many things, shouldn't that be easy? And the answer would be no. No it wasn't.

Half of the things Wade liked were either kids shows, or weapons, and Logan really wasn't sure how he could get a meaningful gift that involved both bluey and a pistol.

Thankfully, after another week if thinking, he got an idea.

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 IOU!!!!! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 guys srry this is so short :< 𖦹 BUT biiiiig progress is about to be made in the next chapter 𖦹 also thank you all for waiting so so long for this. lobe u all <33 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠

𖦹 taglist form!!! (hopefully this one works ToT)

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 613

masterlist / breather << pt. 10 -- IOU >> wedding

༻¨*:· 𝐈𝐎𝐔 ·:*¨༺

"Happy one-month anniversary!" Remus walks up to you, and you look at him with a puzzled expression.

"Anniversary?"

"We've been friends for a month!" In his stretched-out hand is a flower. Your favorite kind.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"They're my favorite flower," You sighed dreamily, staring at the vase in the hotel lobby.

"Yeah?" He asks with a flushed face—he's had a couple too many drinks.

"Yeah. There's something so beautiful about them. I can't quite put my finger on it."

"There doesn't need to be a reason," He slurs, "You can just love them because they're lovely." 

"I suppose I can," You shrug.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"I remember you said they were your favorite," He rubs the back of his neck, "And I wanted to celebrate."

"Thank you, Remus." You smile, and he blushes when your fingertips brush as you grab the flower.

"You see those two?" Sirius whispers to Harry, who intently watches him with big, green eyes, "They're friends now. For the past month, they've been friends. They even hung out once by themselves." Harry smiles and claps, squealing with joy. It catches your attention, and you walk over to the young baby.

"Oh, someone's happy," You coo, ruffing up his hair, "So smiley!" You pinch his cheeks.

"Stop trying to steal him from me!" Sirius whines. 

"I'm not stealing him from you," You turn back to Harry, "I'm just showing him all the love he deserves," You tear up when he stares into your eyes. Just such a precious baby born from love and care. You hope it will be the same way when you have a baby. And then you realize that you're still young, and you have nobody to have a baby with, and you shouldn't be having these thoughts right now!

But then you look back into his eyes, and he giggles and reaches in your direction. He wants to be held. Sirius swoops him up before you can, "That's enough of that!" He sneers, "Harry is mine, not yours."

"He's actually mine." Lily smiles as she walks up to her boy. "Hello," She coos, "Who's the cutest in the world?" She asks, taking her child from Sirius's hands, "You are!" She boops him on the nose, and Harry giggles.

"You find that funny?" She asks, tapping his nose again. He giggles harder, and you swear he's the happiest baby in the entire world.

"He's cute, isn't he?" 

The voice sends a shiver down your spine, "You scared me!" You playfully hit Remus on his shoulder.

"Sorry," He laughs, "Promise I didn't mean to."

"You're cruel, Lupin."

And he fears he's right back at the start. You're calling him Lupin—you haven't called him Lupin since… since your feud.

But then you smile at him, and he swears it's like the sun is shining in his face; he is blinded by your beauty, and he knows you're joking.

"Got you a little scared there, did I, Remus?"

"You say my name so nice." He breathes out.

"Remus," You test, and he sighs, "I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"I'm going to use my 'IOU,' okay?"

Remus nods, "Lay it on me."

"Will you be my date to Marly and Cas's wedding?"

"Uh..." Remus's hand goes to the back of his head, and as he scratches, he feels his heart explode. Yes, he will be your date for a wedding. He will be your date anywhere, anytime.

"It's okay if not," You scramble out, "I understand."

"No! No, I'll be your date," He smiles gently, "I'd love to be your date."

"Really?" You smile, and Remus swears you've illuminated the room.

"Of course."

"They are in love," Lily whispers to Harry, who nods importantly.

EEEEEKKKKKK

again, sorry this is so short, but i promise next one is going to have some big stuff!!!!!!!!!!!!!

taglist: @djlance-rock

[maramarabum]

I can't sleep so it's tbhk theory time

Okay so this is something i have posted before, but now i'm gonna lay more examples supporting my theory

The theory being that everything (or most of) what Tsukasa does is based on Hanako's wishes, based mostly on old chapters

So situation one: Chapter 19, The one where Mitsuba dies

So in this chapter we find out that Tsukasa grants wishes of supernaturals, and we also see that he does it in very unconventional and grotesque ways, as we see him granting Mitsuba's wish of having many friends by turning him into this weird ass monster. And I think in this chapter, we also see him granting Hanako's wish for the first time in the series, but we will get to that later.

Chapter 21, The Tea Party and the door dimension

Yashiro gets kidnapped by Tsukasa and the rest broadcasting room gang to a tea party, the reason being, apparently, to kill her by drowning her in the room, but even as Yashiro herself points out, it doesn't really seem like they actually want to kill her

The weird water that they drowned her in instead transported her to the door dimension that can lead her anywhere, and this is where she goes through the door that leads her to the dimension where Hanako is a living student at her school (and then she gets transported to the current year. oh well).

I know it's a lot of talk and no explenation but bear with me we will get there soon

Chapter 32, Then Mitsuba becomes a school mystery

So 11 chapter later we get direct confirmation that Tsukasa in fact does not want Yashiro to die

And most importantly, we find out Tsukasa actually remade Mitsuba

And this is where it gets to the connection point of the chapters discussed

Kou asks why did Tsukasa remake Mitsuba if he was the one to kill him, to which he answers:

""Just because?" "There was a movie I watched with Amane with an artificial human, I wanted to make one" "But, I dunno... pretty cool, right?"

A hell of an unsatisfactory answer, and he sounds really unpassionate and not really sure, forming the answer more like a question, almost like he's thinking about the reason at the spot, which is exactly what i think hes doing, and it's not the first time.

Chapter 21, the reason he wants to kill Yashiro. We know for a fact that's not how he views his relationship with Hanako, and he literally ends the sentence with "Well, whatever. Anyway."

Chapter 19, asked by Hanako why he turn Mitsuba into that weird ass monster, similiar to chapter 32, he starts with a "hmm..." and thinks for a minute, before actually answering (except this time, his actual answer seems more honest, in a way)

It's really easy to tell when he's hiding his actual motives. And the actual motives, what were they?

To get an answer to that, we don't exactly look for direct quotes for Hanako saying what he wishes for, we more start to speculate what he might be wishing for inside, what he doesn't say.

It's really not that hard, take for example, Hanako wishing he could have somehow met Yashiro when he was still alive, which is exactly what Tsukasa caused in chapter 21

This would be his true intentions behind sending Yashiro to the door dimension.

So how about the whole Mitsuba thing? Well, Hanako was never really happy about Kou having a crush on Yashiro. He has probably thought something like "I wish he would stick to someone else" at least once, right?

And then Kou brings over a ghost student his age to the bathroom stall, asking him how can he deal with him instead of exorcism

Hanako looks like hes getting a bad feeling about him (is he... you know...)

"I want friends. I want to stay with my friends..." Here we have the exact wish that allowed him to "kill" Mitsuba, while also granting his and Hanako's wish. If Tsukasa didn't do anything, Mitsuba would be free to go. He found a friend, and his unfinished business is done. But then, Kou wouldn't stick around with him anymore, so Hanako's wish wouldn't be granted, and also Tsukasa would have taken no part in granting Mitsuba's wish.

The actual way Tsukasa wanted to grant these wishes is by letting Mitsuba turn Kou into a supernatural similar to him, quote "If you make him just like you... you could be together forever, huh?" (THE PARALLELS THE PARALLELS UNRELATED TO THIS THEORY OHHH THE MITSUKOU PARALLELS GOD DESTROY ME SMITE MY BEING)

Directing Mitsuba, guiding him what to do, while also making it seem like it's his own choice, like it's what he wants.

But then Hanako comes over and kills him before that can happen. And he doesn't even look like his confused about whats happening, but he still asks Tsukasa, asks why is he doing this, like he want's a conformation.

Because he knows it was because of him.

Since Tsukasa could tell what Mitsuba wished for because Mitsuba already made a deal with him, it would mean Hanako made a deal with Tsukasa too, all these years ago, a wish that might have been "a little vauge". And also, Hanako doesn't know which one of his thoughts made Tsukasa do this, considering his ways of granting anything are very off the wall, and also, as we discussed before, Tsukasa won't tell him.

(Hanako touching his seal after Kou asks Yako about Mitsuba. His face looking sorrowful, like he's thinking about something)

All he knows is that this happened is because he met Yashiro. He hasn't seen his brother for 20-50 years, and he showed up right after Yashiro became his assistant.

His ghost "life" was boring, nothing really happened, and he stopped wishing for anything. He accepted that he had no future, he needed to take care of the school so he could gain god's forgiveness. But then Yashiro showed up, and his life suddenly was more eventful, he now had a girl to protect. Then after her Kou showed up, and now he had two friends who still had young hope in them.

And it rubbed off on him, it had awakened some hope in him too, made him start wishing again. And now his friends are paying the price of that.

And also it's almost 4 A.M. now as I'm writng this.

So yeah if you have any thoughts on this, other examples or something that contraries my theory please reblog and let me know, i would really like to hear it

(me right now)