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themastaralex · 1 day ago

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the eldest daughters:

I've been in the works of a rhaenyra x f!reader fic for a while now, and it's omegaverse (cross posted on ao3) (my bad guys, accidentally posted it twice lmaoo)

TW: typical targcest between cousins, violence

Summary: Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, a proud and stubborn alpha, is set to marry her omega cousin, you, Princess Alerys Targaryen, in a manner to keep the blood of the dragon pure. You share the blood of the dragon, as well as the fire of it. In the end, however, all depends on if you can both manage to keep the realm out of war; war between kin, and war between dragons.

Chapter 1: The Heir's Tournament

You’d always known you’d end up with Rhaenyra, that much was obvious. You two had grown up practically attached at the hip after Daemon took you from your mother, Rhea Royce. He didn’t like her; ‘his bronze bitch’, as he called her, but still needed to produce some form of a child between them.

So he tried, once. Once is all he needed to do, because she had fallen pregnant soon after, much to both his luck and unluckiness. He didn’t want to do that again, hell, he didn’t want to do it in the first place.

You ended up taking your mother’s slightly tanned complexion and her dark brown hair, but your father’s eyes and streaks of white hair, luckily, which you normally braid back. A light purple, the only other trademark of Valyrian descent. He hated being reminded of the fact that he had had a child with her , but he had to have at least produced a child, but he loved you, in spite of having came from your mother.

Growing up with Rhaenyra in King’s Landing wasn’t bad, if that’s what was thought. It was the best place for you to grow up, on the contrary. You are a princess, not just some normal high-born lord’s daughter. You’re a princess of the realm, a Targaryen. Even if he wanted to, Daemon wouldn’t leave you with Rhea to grow up with her, to not have the luxuries you should- but did- grow up with.

You and Rhaenyra were mischievous kids, to say the least. Truthfully, they called you the ‘twin terrors’. But make no mistake, that didn’t stop you two. While you were indeed a princess of the realm, that didn’t stop you from wanting to pursue sword fighting. Not just because it’s interesting, but because it’d be the one thing you could have that could make your father proud of you.

You had natural skill, quite a prodigy, but not a prodigy in the eyes of every man in that training yard, purely because of their bias and overall thinking. But that’s normal.

By the time Rhaenyra presented as an alpha, most people of the court were surprised. They expected her to be an omega- to be submissive to her alpha, which they assumed would have been you, with your tall and slightly well built physique and your more masculine tendencies. And when you presented as an omega shortly after her, it caused nearly double the surprise that Rhaenyra’s presentation did.

And now, with all the commotion of Aemma and Viserys’ coming child- one that Viserys hopes is a boy, it’s as if the pair of you two have been left to your own devices. Along with Alicent as well, of course. She followed you and Rhaenyra in presenting shortly after yourself- at around 14 as an omega as well.

Regardless of the now stark differences between you and Rhaenyra, it was mostly all still the same since your presentations. Only thing was that guards were set at your doors when either of you went into your heats or ruts, because Rhaenyra is absolutely impulsive, reckless, and would gladly have taken that chance to have you early ahead of your coming wedding. And you would have let her have you.

But oh, yes, your wedding.

Rhaenyra presented at 14 and you a few moons shortly after her, so Viserys thought it would be best to betroth you two, to keep the blood of the dragon pure and what not.

It was the smartest idea to come out of him since him having made and named Rhaenyra.

The Heir’s Tournament is grand, as befit for the coming birth of Viserys’ new child, whom he very much hopes is a boy, and who he and Aemma (mostly Viserys though) have named Baelon in advance of the child’s birth. Although, Rhaenyra claims she wants a sister, and claims she’ll be a girl, even as while she and you were very close as kids, you weren’t sisters neither thought of each other as such, luckily.

By the time Rhaenyra finally arrives at the royal box, Alicent and mostly everyone else has already been seated, and it looks as if she was the last one there, excluding yourself because she’s sure you’re down there getting ready to compete. Despite everything, despite yourself having presented as an omega, Rhaenyra hadn’t witnessed her father or your father say anything to you about quitting and stopping your ‘nonsensical bullshit’ of training and fighting.

She supposes that’s what happens when you’re skilled, regardless of secondary gender, she thinks to herself, as she sits down next to Alicent on her right. The seat on Rhaenyra’s right is empty as well, being the one you’d usually sit in next to her when watching tournaments.

Viserys glances at her, and after recognizing that his daughter is there and accounted for, he stands and speaks, his voice oddly booming for once, “Queen Aemma has begun her labors!” He announces, much to the joy of the crowds and the people in the royal box as they clap and smile at him for a few moments before he sits back down and prepares for the first joust; between a knight of House Tarly and an unnamed knight.

Hooves of horses sound like thunder as the first men collide in a joust, with the unhorsing of the Tarly knight occurring with a sharp crack of the unnamed knight’s lance against his shield, or perhaps against his breastplate- although it’s hard to tell from Rhaenyra’s sightline. The unnamed knight seems to have no real way of differentiating him from a sword on the ground due to his bland and mis-matched armor with no house sigil.

Rhaenyra looks at him with slight interest, seeing as the man managed to unhorse a Tarly squire in one fell thrust of his lance.

“A mystery knight?” She inquires, with Alicent responding next to her, “No. A Cole, of the Stormlands.”

“I’ve never heard of House Cole.” Alicent would slightly shrug at Rhaenyra’s words, as they looked at the other knights, who with their decorated armor and resplendent jewels look every bit the part of wealthy noblemen who have never seen an inch of battle or war.

They spot one in specific, and Rhaenyra has a bit of gossip to share regarding him, so she tilts her body toward Alicent just enough to whisper to her without the possibility of prying ears, “Lord Stokeworth’s daughter is promised to that young squire.”

“Lord Massey’s daughter?” Alicent asks, as Rhaenyra nods and continues, “They’re to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood.” Alicent almost scoffs in amusement, but finishes their little gossip session with an added soft chuckle, “He’d best get on with it. I heard that Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress.”

Rhaenyra almost bursts out laughing at the news, but manages to control it into a small giggle as she leans back into her seat, watching Lord Boremund Baratheon ride over to the royal box, with his house sigil, a proud black and gold stag, etched onto his armor, and banners on his horse. He lifts his lance up toward Rhaenys, prompting her to stand and walk over to him as everyone watches him ask for her favor.

“I would humbly ask for the favor of ‘The Queen Who Never Was’.”

Rhaenys nods her head and indulges him, grabbing a favor and placing it on his lance as she offers him good fortune in the coming joust, even as he almost disregards her comment, “I would gladly take it- if I thought I needed it.”

That comment just rubs Rhaenyra the wrong way, as Otto grumbled something about Viserys possibly having Boremund’s tongue out for that. It rubs Rhaenyra the wrong way personally because despite her father being the king, she felt as if the crown should have been Rhaenys’. She was Aemon’s only living child, and she was still passed over for the crown twice. Once for Baelon, and another time for Viserys.

Over the set of the next few minutes, they just speak amongst each other until the Master of Revels introduces who is one of the main competitors of the event.

“Ser Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent!”

Daemon, Rhaenyra’s uncle, and soon-to-be father-in-law as well.

The smallfolk in the stands cheer loudly for him as he rides out on his steed, as Daemon is wearing black-scaled armor, with the helm looking like a dragon’s head. The other knights from the lists are lined up- once again minus yourself.

While Daemon trots his horse down the line, scrutinizing and choosing his opponent, Rhaenyra’s thoughts obviously wander to you. You wouldn’t miss a single chance to embarrass your father, especially if it’s in a joust, or even if you get embarrassed yourself, because you’d get to fight Daemon regardless.

“Where is she?” Rhaenyra would mutter to herself, one of her arms moving to rest on the arm rest as one of her thumbs played with the ring on her middle finger. Alicent notices Rhaenyra’s small mutter and her fidgeting with her rings- not that she’s much better because she picks at her nails.

But she notices regardless, and decides to distract her a bit by speaking of who he might choose, “Daemon will surely choose to face one of the great houses. Though he probably doesn’t want to tilt against someone he’s never faced.” She notes, getting Rhaenyra to sit back up a bit as Daemon chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower, Alicent’s older brother and Otto’s eldest son, with aiming his lance toward him.

This makes Alicent slightly frown, as Rhaenyra looks on in contemplation. The one person she wants to see compete in this bloody tournament isn’t even here yet, and it’s maddening, because she knows you’re a damn good warrior. Otto doesn’t even flinch at Daemon’s choosing of opponent, he expected it, if anything.

Daemon and Gwayne line up in their lanes, and charge toward one another. Daemon’s tactic of forcing the other man’s lance to drive into the dirt and throw him off the horse works, and Gwayne lands face first into the ground under him and his steed. Once Daemon wins, he takes a victory lap around, and then rides up to the royal box as he takes off his helm and wows the crowd with his obvious good looks.

Rhaenyra, Alicent, and truthfully, most- if not all- the ladies in the royal box immediately swoon, as Alicent and Rhaenyra go up and walk to him, as they both smile, Rhaenyra’s smile being just a touch more polite than anything else, as is Alicent’s.

“Nicely done, uncle.” Rhaenyra notes with a hint of praise, as Daemon gives her a small nod, acknowledging her words, “Thank you, Princess.” Then Daemon turned his eyes toward Alicent, tilting his lance up toward her, and then asking in an almost smug tone, “I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it.”

At that, Alicent is almost taken aback, even with the blush on her face from the question. But she does as he requests, grabbing a favor and placing it on the lance, as it slides to the base, with Rhaenyra going back to sit down as Alicent offers some final words. “Good luck, my prince.”

Rhaenyra looks almost amused, but she doesn’t want to give away that this genuinely makes her laugh, as Otto glares down at Daemon. Beating his son, then asking his daughter for a favor, as if he’s someone he should cross?

All in all, the hostility between his younger brother and his Hand amuses Viserys to no end.

The tournament rages on, and finally, you make an appearance. You’re up against a member of House Tyrell, a knight of no real consequence. Even his movements on his horse seem sloppy, if anything.

The moment Rhaenyra spots your recognizable dragon armor- the same colors as Daemon’s armor, black and red, as it should be for most Targaryens- the helm, mostly, since it’s reminiscent of your dragon, Aeryx and her horn shape, she grins, finally able to relax and know you’re about to wipe the floor with that Tyrell man. Or maybe a boy, more like it.

“And now, for her first match of the day, Ser Alerys of House Targaryen, daughter of the Prince of the City, is tilting against Ser Heron of House Tyrell!” The smallfolk all cheer and clap at the mention and sight of their prince’s daughter, as the nobles in the royal box clap for both competitors.

Viserys both visibly smiles and looks worried. Not for you, but for Heron Tyrell. If you’re anything like Daemon– and you are, after all, he’s known you since you were a babe– you’re definitely going to either bend the rules a bit, or say ‘fuck all’ and just beat the man half to death. With the way Daemon handled Gwayne in his own match, he doesn’t doubt you were most definitely watching him and are taking pointers from him and his own actions.

Regardless, the smallfolk calm down a bit as you and Heron trot into your respective lanes after your introductions from the Master of Revels, as you watch Rhaenyra and Alicent stand up and walk to the guard-rails of the royal box to watch this joust. They’re your closest friends, and your cousin is set to marry you in a year or so, so it would only make sense for them to want to closely watch you embarrass a Tyrell.

You look up at Rhaenyra and Alicent, giving them a small nod and smile through your helm, with only your eyes and the middle of your lips visible through the small vertical open area of your black iron helm. They smile back at you, with Alicent’s smile being more friendly than Rhaenyra’s small smirk. The girl lives for both hearing drama and causing it.

Once you look back at Heron, it’s as if you can tell he’s nervous from beneath the visor of his helm, because his hand is slightly shaking as he holds his lance and shield. Now, for the lance, it might just be that it’s heavy, so you won’t blame him for that if that’s the case.

After a few more moments of a wait, you both charge toward the other, having a narrow field to aim your lance and hope it strikes true on either his shield or on his breastplate to push him off. Once you both get close, you meet the edge of his shield, but the tip of the lance slides to the side to strike his armored shoulder as he’s pushed almost off his saddle as you both ride down the line to the end to turn back around and go for a second charge if he can sit up. His own lance had missed- sliding off the iron edge of your own shield, which didn’t help him stay on his saddle, as he fell the moment the horse turned to the other side, falling into the mud of the tiltyard and losing the joust.

The crowd loudly applauds at their princess’s win, having all expected her to easily best the Tyrell knight, as Rhaenyra and Alicent stood at the rails the entire time, witnessing the usage of strategy that you used (you just aimed at his shield), and how you made the best of missing his shield.

You ride up to the royal box, removing your helm and holding it in your lap as you look up at them, as if a knight in shining armor.

“Princess Rhaenyra. Lady Alicent.” You greet, giving each one a small nod as a smile rose on your face regardless of who you were looking at– even if it rose mainly due to Rhaenyra. She looks beautiful in that dress, with the red and golds contrasting perfectly with herself. You don’t even have to address them with honorifics, you just want to. Besides, if you want to play as a knight right now, you have to be as courteous as one would be.

“I wouldn’t suppose that I could have your favor for the coming fights, could I, Princess?”

‘Only you would be so bold as to ask for my favor over such a minor joust, Alerys..’ Rhaenyra thinks to herself, slightly tilting her head and having a small smile on her lips. She keeps eye contact with you, before giving her oral answer, dancing around it a bit before really answering.

“Hmm, I would suppose so, my gallant knight.” She walked over to where the favors are, and grabbed one as her father looked at her with a small neutral look for a moment before letting a small smile come on his lips and give a slight nod to her as if to say, ‘Go ahead.’

It's not like Viserys doesn't want Rhaenyra and you to not have fun neither not show that you are both steadily ready for your coming marriage, and giving you her favor would only reinforce the thoughts of most nobles; loyalty.

Otto side eyes Viserys for a moment, watching as the king gives the go-ahead to Rhaenyra to place the favor of a wreath of red roses on your lance, watching it slide down to the base.

Of course, Otto, being the King's Hand and a.. a friend , agreed with him the moment he suggested Rhaenyra and you be betrothed.

Though, his ambitions are large, large enough to take heavy steps to the crown if need be. Truthfully, he should have pushed to possibly have betrothed Alicent and Rhaenyra. It's not like Alicent isn't pleasant looking and Rhaenyra doesn't have affection for her– she does. But he's not sure as to how he might have taken it, especially since this was likely one of the few things that Viserys and Daemon had agreed on doing for their daughters in a while now.

But he's sure that with a bit of persuasion , or perhaps seduction of sorts from Alicent’s way toward Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra might voice her opinion to want to marry someone other than the obvious choice of her cousin with Targaryen blood..

But Otto quickly gets himself out of his own head and plans, watching as you and Rhaenyra conversed for another few moments, with you claiming brave words of victory.

“When I win this entire tourney, I’ll come up and name you my Queen of Love and Beauty, cousin.” Your words came with a cocky grin, looking up at Rhaenyra, as she just quickly snorted, out of humor if nothing else. Just the name of ‘cousin’ toward one another makes her laugh, as she humored you.

“We’ll see when you win then, won’t we?” Rhaenyra smiled, slightly tilting her head for a moment as she kept eye contact with you for a bit more before you placed your helm back on and rode back toward the boy acting as your squire.

Alicent- who was witnessing the entire flirting session between the two of you, side-eyes Rhaenyra, having a look of something similar to saying, ‘Well, I’m sorry I was here to witness this..’, as they sit back down.

Over the course of the rest of the day, Lord Boremund Baratheon is humbled and promptly knocked off his horse by the previously unnamed knight, the Cole of the Stormlands, who they announce as, ‘Ser Criston Cole’. Now with a complete name to the man, Rhaenyra is partially curious about him, so she waves over for Ser Harrold Westerling, her Kingsguard knight, to ask him about the man.

“What do you know about this Ser Criston Cole, Ser Harrold?” She asked, as he seemed to think about it for a moment, responding back to his princess to the best of what he was told. “I have been asking the same thing, Princess. I’m told Ser Criston is common-born, the son of Lord Blackhaven’s steward. Other than that, and the fact that he has unhorsed both of the Baratheon lads, I could not say.”

They watch as Ser Criston lines back up in the lane as he awaits his next opponent.

The Master of Revels calls out the next opponent, “Ser Criston Cole will now tilt against Ser Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the City!”

That catches Rhaenyra’s attention again, seeing as her uncle is about to tilt against this Ser Criston. She thinks Daemon will make quick work of him, and then after that, he would probably joust against you, his own daughter. However, he might have the slightest bit more pity for you, and not be as harsh as he would normally be with any other opponent.

Both Alicent and Rhaenyra’s interest peaked at this match, as they stay seated but watch with careful eyes, as Ser Harrold stood and walked back to his post.

The joust is a quick one, with both of them charging toward one another, as Daemon hits Criston’s breastplate dead on, breaking his lance. Unfortunately, Daemon is the one who is dismounted, with the amount of force he placed into the attack, he’s forced back, falling off his horse and onto his back.

Though, he quickly scrambles back up and signals to his squires to bring him Dark Sister, offering it to him hilt first, as he quickly draws said sword– the Valyrian steel rippling in the light of the afternoon sun.

“Prince Daemon wishes to continue in a melee!” The Master of Revels proclaims, as the crowd cheers and hollers, with Ser Criston dismounting his horse and continuing this match in a melee. While Daemon had a squire to hand him Dark Sister, Criston has no such man, so he runs to grab a morningstar from one of the posts set up with weapons on one side of the tiltyard. But Daemon doesn’t wait, he quickly and angrily slashes at him with Dark Sister, with Criston evading with the speed of a much smaller and agile man.

With his evasion, he turns around and snares Dark Sister with the chain, gripping the blade and quickly pulling it away from Daemon’s grip and into the mud. Daemon is disarmed now, as Criston throws him into the ground, hitting him on the back with his morningstar once, to stun him, as he says, “Yield.”

But in true Daemon fashion, he tries– and fails– to reach for Dark Sister, with Criston kicking away the sword to somewhere else, now standing over Daemon as he holds his morningstar above his head, ready to strike again if he does not yield. The crowds are going absolutely wild, at both Daemon being bested, and Daemon being bested by a relatively unknown knight.

Viserys stands and claps and laughs loudly, as Otto politely claps, but both are appreciating that Daemon has been humbled and bested for once. Criston helps Daemon up out of the mud, as Daemon spits some blood on the ground, angrily.

“Well fought, my prince.” “It was. By one of us.”

After his snarky answer back, Daemon walks away, picking up Dark Sister as he leaves the tiltyard, and perhaps the tourney grounds in total.

Ser Criston remounts his horse and rides to the royal box, looking up at Alicent and Rhaenyra, and due to having already witnessed the earlier match of you versus the Tyrell boy, decides against asking Rhaenyra for her favor, lest he wins and gains your wrath against him. He removes his helm as Alicent and Rhaenyra come up to the rails, watching him for a moment; witnessing his dark hair, dark eyes, and olive-colored skin.

“Gods, he’s Dornish.” Alicent said, almost falling for him right then and there. Of course, Rhaenyra doesn’t exactly feel the same thing. He’s attractive, sure, but he’s not you.

As they witness Criston’s looks for the first time, a maester comes into the royal box and speaks quietly to Otto, who quickly wears a somewhat distressed face, as he whispers to Viserys, who after receiving the news, quickly but quietly makes his way out of the royal box and into the Red Keep with Otto and the maester, where his wife, Queen Aemma, is having birthing problems.

Criston asks for Alicent’s favor, even as she had earlier given one to Daemon, but her eyes do partially light up as she does, because he chose her and not Rhaenyra to ask for a favor.

Afterwards, the tourney takes a more brutal turn, with bones breaking, blood being spilled every which way, and death being something the slightest bit more common right now, as a Corbray knight walks over to the Tarly knight who unhorsed him, and begins to beat him. Their pages and squires rush to pull them off each other, to no avail.

In the next match after getting them out, it’s Ser Criston versus you, still having the favor that Rhaenyra gave you that was on the base of your lance, which is now on the junction of your left arm, of your inner elbow.

“And now, Ser Criston Cole versus Ser Alerys Targaryen!”

You both charge with loud yells, striking true on each other’s shields, shattering one another’s lances, as well as a part of your shield. You rush to throw your broken lance down, grabbing another from your temporary squire’s hand, being careful to grip the inside as Rhaenyra eagerly watches you race down the lane a second time, hoping you knock Criston on his ass, purely because Daemon lost, so you need to win it. For House Targaryen, for your own pride, and for Rhaenyra.

It’s almost a make or break moment, the moment that you aim in and have a set point as to where the tip of the lance will strike. No, not almost , it is a make or break moment.

Even with the sweat rushing down your forehead and almost into your eyes because of the heat and your heavy black armor, you manage a breath before you collide.

It’s over in merely a second as you feel the lance hit him, but you also feel his lance against you– pushing you down as both of you hit each other’s breastplates with all the speed of the racing horses, and your own strength.

And you are both knocked to the ground at the same time, off your horses- disoriented because of the force- as you barely shuffle up onto your feet, regaining your eyesight as you motion your squire to grab your sword, and he quickly hands you your sword, a well-crafted iron sword, whom you dubbed, Stinger. You couldn’t really think of anything better because you were a child when Daemon gave you it.

“And they decide to continue into the melee!”

You witness Ser Criston having stood back up as well, grabbing a morningstar, no doubt about to try the same tactics he used on Daemon, considering he knows who he’s facing; his daughter.

You don’t slash as angrily as Daemon did, more so just gauging your chances and taking shorter slashes, since he has the advantage of wielding a weapon that could easily dent your breastplate if you’re not careful and if he’s harsh with his strikes.

You both go back and forth for a bit trying to know the other’s striking pattern, as you get a bit too eager once you see an opening, going for it as he notices and uses the morningstar to hit your shoulder, denting your armor and forcing you down, almost letting go of your sword, but not quite.

He quickly tries to disarm you by kicking your hand, but you grab some dry dirt from a patch, and throw it in his eyes, in classic Daemon fashion, barely getting up and hitting the morningstar out of his hand as he almost wipes at his eyes, forcing them open, growling angrily. This is when he starts going for hand to hand combat, knowing his morningstar is too far to reach now, and he’s partly blinded.

The crowd gasps, seeing as you pulled a ‘dirty trick’. It’s something that- again- Daemon would do, so they’re not too surprised.

Both you and Ser Criston continue, with you pushing him back a bit with your sword, trying to kick him down and make him yield, but he stays up. It’s frustrating, and almost makes you irritated, but while your frustration and irritation hits you, your distraction gives him an opening, so he shoves your sword aside with his armguard, and makes sure to hit your helm guard with the metal covering his knuckles, forcing it to hit your nose. And with the strength of his punch, it makes you bleed a bit, as you stagger backwards; disoriented again as your vision failed you and eyes started watering.

He grabbed your collar of your neck armor, and threw you down onto the ground as if you were nothing but a sack of flour, in which you groaned as you hit the mud. He places one foot on your hand wielding your sword, and the other on your breastplate, on top of the Targaryen sigil in the middle.

“Yield.” He said, knowing you’d have to. You literally can’t move with his feet on you.

“I-I.. I yield.” You reluctantly say, and he takes off his feet from you and your body, and moves to give you a hand. He’s a strong fighter, you’ll give him that. But then again, you’re only a 14 year old girl, and you lasted that long and almost bested him. Good try.

You take his hand up, giving him a small nod of thanks, even as the blood rushes down your nose and lips, then down your chin and onto the ground and probably your breastplate.

“Good fight, Ser.” You manage out, as he gives a small nod back, “I say the same to you, my princess.”

The entire fight did rub him the wrong way for a bit, seeing as he was fighting a princess, not a girl specifically. But to be acknowledged by a princess, one that worked to hone her skills to participate in a tourney, is good nonetheless.

You both walk away, to get treated for your wounds, and because Criston pretty much won the entire damn thing already.

And then, not even half an hour later, during a different melee, you join Rhaenyra and Alicent up in the royal box, rubbing at your nose as you sit down in some clean clothes, in a black tunic with red accents and embroidered silver dragons on top of where each breast is.

Rhaenyra looks at you, and feels a bit bad, until she realizes you lost, and totally wasted her favor. “You wasted my favor, oh, gallant knight.” She sarcastically says, and she doesn’t really care about the favor much.

You look at her for a moment, slightly embarrassed and frowning, “Sorry. He got my nose, and my eyes started watering.” You grumble, holding it as you witness the new violence down in the tiltyard, whereas Alicent looks away and Rhaenyra- like you- continues to look.

As the violence reaches a standstill, as in the bodies being dragged away after everything, Otto finally returns, and shares the new news to the small council.

“The Queen lives, but the boy is dead.” He quietly shares, earning a small gasp from some of them. It’s enough to draw attention, from all three girls down in the first row, as well as from possibly Laena and Laenor.

The Queen lives, but the boy is dead.

Aemma survived off of nothing short of a miracle. They sacrificed Baelon’s life for Aemma’s, but she is narrowly surviving.

Viserys chose her, in a rare twist of fate.

#wlw #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #female targaryen reader #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #viserys targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd rhaenyra

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tanoraqui · 17 hours ago

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now that this fic is all published, I can ramble about the things that happen afterward in the timeline! Feel SO free to ask about anything you want more details of.

First off, all three posts about Dave the Balrog are 100% canon to this au, except for where they sometimes contradict the fic's worldbuilding or plot bc I hadn't settled on every detail yet. Also, Dave’s name is probably more like “Drav”, from the Sindarin “drava-”, “to hew.”

That happens much later, though - about 1980 TA. FIRST, immediately, as Celebrimbor says: it's time to save the orcs!

That is, wildly self-indulgent crossover with @ceescedasticity's fic(verse) elves, once, which isn't 100% my headcanon for orcs but it's essentially canon for this au because it makes everything VERY FUNNY in a tragic irony way. I've thought about this so much that it really deserves its own bullet-point post, but highlights include:

- Annatar attempts to conceal the fact that Curufin and Celegorm are orcs, and, y'know, have been since they died. This works until Celebrimbor identifies a bunch of the orc army's weapons as made by his father, even if the style is strange and fell, and the two of the have a HUGE fight in front of representatives of every Elvish kingdom in Middle Earth and most of an army of orcs.

- Bellow/Turgon is having the single strangest, most uncomfortable road trip of his life, and he counts the crossing of the Helcaraxë in that total.

- Turgon tries to convince Galadriel to take Celebrían and Elrond and get out of here, because inevitably this must be a cruel trick and all the orcs will be forced to turn on all the Elves. Galadriel is like, "Honestly, I've been watching Celebrimbor's slow corruption and Sauron's slower un-corruption for about 2,000 years now, and I think we actually have a shot at this. Also, bold of you to assume you can beat me in a fight."

- Curufin and Celegorm had BOOKED IT when Annatar's summoning-compulsion snapped, on the reasonable assumption that any plan the Dark Lord had for them + Celebrimbor could only be cruel to the extreme...so Celebrimbor and Annatar go on a bonus road trip to retrieve them.

- Everyone meets up by the Sea again, but instead of taking (or, obeying) the offer of escape into Ulmo's hands, Turgon and probably a bunch of other orcs volunteer to come help break the Crucible. They Deserve This.

- In the end, as usual, the day is ultimately saved - as are the souls of thousands of trapped elves - by the power of love and overwhelming violence.

AND THEN...

Celebrimbor & Annatar don't actually rebuild Ost-in-Edhil and Eregion as they were. Those days are over, and also the surviving Númenoreans kinda...regard Annatar as Absolute Evil, for some mysterious reason. And those who knew about the whole or even partial conspiracy - namely Tar-Miriel herself - aren't too keen on Celebrimbor, either.

They leave whoever wants to stay and rebuild in Eregion, leadership tbd based on the traditional system of craft-based meritocracy, and take a few decades off to lay low from geopolitics, work on their marriage, and for Celebrimbor to learn a little bit of necromancy so he can manipulate his own fëa and hröa, thank you very much.

They stay with the Witch-Queen of Calador for a while, discreetly because officially that kingdom is also not on good terms with its “former” evil-ish overlord. (The Witch-Queen of Calador and her not really sane, almost certainly unsafe, but arguably consensual relationship with Annatar really deserves her own post, too. She’s my favorite OC of this au. She really loves bats.)

Elrond & Celebrían get married! Elrond always knew his wedding would have to involve stopping drunken brawls from erupting between people who love him but hate each other, but he’d assumed it’d be Iathrim and Fëanorians, not an elderly Queen Miriel going for Annatar’s eyes with a butter knife.

Annatar regards the birth of Elrohir and Elladan with some concern, this alarming lineage now augmented by the blood of Arafinwë (cut off Melkor’s foot) and Galadriel (Melian’s pupil, hates him). But that’s nothing to how freaked out he is by Arwen, who is such an obvious Reprise of Lúthien that it’s now CLEAR that this was all a Melian scheme to assault him, personally.

He can’t just kill her now—Elrond and Galadriel and both right here, not to mention Celebrimbor. And then she’d absolutely be his enemy when she Returned… No, the only solution is to stay in Imladris for a while and become her most beloved uncle whom she would not dream of assaulting, whom she could not bring herself to injure even if circumstance and conscience forced her hand. Love has ever been the undoing of Melian’s line. The Reprise is obvious, but not so established that he cannot twist it into irony, Lúthien’s heir as his devoted student and companion rather than foe.

[smash cut to late 3rd Age Annatar watching the Music settle into place as Arwen interacts with the newest, currently toddling scion of the House of Elendil and nearly killing the child right then because no, no, thats not how this was supposed to Reprise—that’s his jewel of an elf-queen, Singer and trade-manipulator and niece, and he’s going to lose her forever? Killing the brat won’t even work, that would only make her follow him sooner, one way or another—]

Celebrimbor doesn’t want to build a city (and have his heart broken by the loss of the city) again, but he very much does want to ImproveThe World, and also to Make Things With His Hands. So he and Annatar, and whoever of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain wish to join them, set about… “Traveling” is too loose a term; just because they’re not city-building doesn’t mean anyone here wants to live on the road. They need workshops, forges, and ideally a maia-sized cat tree tall tower from which to survey their domain. They are a highly skilled work crew/technical, artistic & management consultants who change cities every 5-200 years, throughout Middle Earth and perhaps even other continents.

This what Celebrimbor and Annatar do, for most of the rest of their time in Middle Earth. A few of the Mírdain travel with them all the time. Others strike out on their own, or in similar small groups. Others stay in rebuilt Ost-in-Edhil, or Rivendell or the Havens or another Elvish kingdom, and come lend a hand when their particular talents are called for. Everyone who “died” in Númenor and was “resuscitated” by Annatar walked away with a strengthened, basically permanent osanwë connection to the simulated workshop group chat, which they’re aware of, and a location tracker and fëa-stamp saying “PROPERTY OF MAIRON, FUCK AROUND AND YOU WILL FIND OUT” which only an Ainu could detect.

They're the mysterious stranger(s) who accept an offer of hospitality on a stormy night and reward you with a magic ring that blesses your farm with fecundity. They arrive in a city in the middle of a cholera outbreak and inform the local rulers that they're here to overhaul the whole wells & sewers system in exchange for room and board; no, the local rulers do not get a choice in this. One time they do oust an evil ruling dynasty and just kinda take over the kingdom for a few centuries, but then Celebrimbor starts to get paranoid of his own growing attachment so Annatar reluctantly agrees to find and raise some honorable candidate for kingship [gender-neutral]. One of the Mírdain with them says, what about the choice of the people? And then after a lot of discussion, partly in collaboration with their local Men, they write up and seal with Power a Constitution that establishes an oversight body of political, economic, craft and etc. experts to oversee and have veto power over popular elections to kingship from a slate of candidates chosen by the current/soon-to-be previous king, on a strict thirty-year schedule. There, that should stabilize the whole messy business of mortal succession!

Also, 1300 years or so into the Third Age when this version of Gondor hits its equivalent of the Kin-Strife, Annatar takes advantage of its weakness to initiate a plan he's been contemplating for a while, especially while gaining local insight into a variety of nation-states and their management, and returns to Oroduin to forge what may he his last Great Work...a new standard of currency.

It’s called, in the common tongue developing from Adúnaic and Sindarin, the “mira”, pl. “miran”, from Quenya “mírë” (“jewel, precious thing). Where pettier currencies are based in gold or silver or the might of some particular empire, these hold value Because a Great Maia Said So—indeed, Sang So, Sang a new line into the Great Music that these coins would always have a value of…whatever he said so, if he updated a petty lyric or two of their Song. Those who use the coins don’t need to know this; they simply intuit, with coins in hand, what they are worth.

(You can lead even the mightiest empire by the nose if you control the price of grain alone, much less other commodities, or one currency relative to another. Each minute adjustment takes Power, especially to shift the natural balance of multiple interlocking goods…but Annatar is a master of the perfectly placed lever with which to shift the world.)

Maybe at some point the Valar are like, “okay, I think they don’t irrationally hate us anymore, I think this could work” and send a small group of Maiar to openly, humbly approach Annatar and Celebrimbor and ask if they might be apprentices in the craft of…whatever the fuck is happening here. Or maybe something adjacent, because Pallandro and Alatar would really like to fuck off into those excellent looking woods and hunt the remnants of Ungoliant’s spawn, and Radagast actually wandered away 5 minutes ago to talk to a bird. He’s gonna be a while. But Curumo and Olórin are listening politely!

…Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just the Jewelsmiths, slowly becoming folklore, bettering the world (and manipulating wide-scale economics) one stone at a time. (They’d still be the “Jewelsmiths” anyway, even if they included those who, in another universe, were called “The Wise.”)

As stated in the third Dave the Balrog post, they do Sail eventually, several centuries after Arwen’s death. Celebrimbor just gets tired, and Annatar can’t fix it. Ossë spends the whole voyage backstroking next to their ship and sarcastically quoting Annatar back at himself, Years of the Trees insults about being made weak and pathetic by love, until Annatar nearly lunges over the side as a wolf to tear his throat out.

#ride and fall #celebrimbor #annatar #sauron #silvergifting #my fic #second age shenaniganry #except technically it’s third age now

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sweetinsaniiity · 4 hours ago

Text

Sore And Sick

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - blackmail!owner!Hongjoong x shoplifter!reader◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - blackmailing trope, shoplifting au, 98% smut, crime, reader has kleptomaniac! tendencies, caught red-handed, blasphemy, mentions of therapy and roleplay, mafia? (can't resist with the new MV teehee), aftercare, fluff, sweet!but!psycho!Hongjoong agenda, actually sweet!Joong plot twist ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!!, CNC (dubcon), but I promise it's !conensual, softdom!Hongjoong, sexual petnames, blackmail for !sex, punish fuck, rough sex, bigdick!Joong ftw, cursing, manhandling, oral sex/fingering while on the phone, sneaky sex, semi-public, slight resistance, doggy, missionary, protection (at first,), removal of condom, creampie, no protection (DO NOT DO THIS!!!!), night terrors, mentions of guns and drugs (NOT TOWARDS YOU)◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 13K+ words (this is the shortest fic I've done) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Your sleight of hand gets you in trouble one day when you are caught stealing red-handed by the owner of the store you tried theft at.◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - This isn't my usual thing. I've always preferred plot-driven fics and I always prefer being the reader of smut rather than writing it. This is more of a filler until I publish my next one. Enjoy! Title from Motionless In White. ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs (message me because I can't tag y'all) ◄ ► 𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @whipped-kpop-creators @illusionnet @pirateeznet ◄

You had no idea when it started, but when it did, you just never knew how to stop. But you did remember how.

A small tug on the corner of your lips painted your face as you looked around conspicuously left and right to see if someone was watching. When you deemed the coast clear, you discreetly pocketed the small bag of chips.

How it didn't make a sound, you had no idea, but goddamn, it was more nerve-wracking than you thought it was.

At that time you didn't know what hit you and admittedly, you were a bit tipsy when it first happened. Company dinner. Go figure.

You always craved something extremely salty after you drink anything. Unfortunately for you - or maybe not - you were a lightweight; born to be one, unwillingly so.

The next time you did it again, you were stone-cold sober. This time, it was the makeup section of this department store. They were the high-end ones designed to lure in the arrogant elitists whose hobby was to throw money at the expense of overconsumption.

Ha! You're no different. That statement always rang in your head, and deep down your soul, you knew it was true.

Your haul became bigger and bigger - literally and figuratively. You were able to get away with thousands of dollars of merchandise. You knew it was wrong, some poor employee was probably paying for it with their minimum wage salary.

So you tried to stop, but for the life of you, you just couldn't. When you were close to getting caught, all you had to do was bat your lashes and play the needy damsel in distress act, and then you were gone.

It became an addiction.

At first, you justified it by convincing yourself that you were 'saving' money, but slowly, it was the addicting feeling of getting away with something; the rush and the confidence that builds every single damn success.

And by God, that power was sweet.

Most of the things you swiped weren't even things you needed, heck, most of them never saw the light of day ever again afterwards.

The same department store was almost empty when you walked in through one of those automatic doors that opened when you got in front of it. You mentally rolled your eyes, because of course, it did.

"Hi," you greeted the first employee you saw with the brightest smile. "Would you happen to know where the women's clothes are?"

The way she smiled at you with a welcoming gesture almost made your stomach churn out of guilt from what you were about to do. Almost.

"Right this way," she started to put her foot forward to lead you, but you quickly stopped her.

"No! No, please," you halted her, a little jumpier than you intended. You sheepishly offered her a small smile. "I would like to do it myself, if it's okay. Relaxation time, you know what I mean?"

Her mouth formed an O-shape and her face lit up in understanding. It took a lot in you not to sigh in relief in front of her. You opted to do it the moment you hit your next stop.

The moment you hit the aisles, the smirk on your lips didn't hold back. This was a gold mine for people like you - but hey, nobody was perfect. Everyone had their vices, yours just didn't involve illegal substances or the spirits in bottles, is all.

There were already pieces that caught your eye. You had a plan, something you've never tried before, but there's a first time for everything. However, all it took was that one bastard who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You've been doing this for some time now, there was absolutely no way you were getting caught now. Losing wasn't part of your vocabulary. The game would be over by then and the fun would die.

Your brows widened when your hand hit a piece of fabric you weren't expecting. It was smooth, a contrast to all the silks you've had contact with.

You whistled when you took it out. It was a ruffled mini skirt, the classic type, the type that will compliment every body type. It was sure to turn heads towards your legs. And you wanted it.

If there was one thing about you, if you want it, then it's already yours.

With your usual glance to the left and on your right, you discreetly turned around away from the cameras and unzipped your jacket, bundling the skirt into a small ball and trying to tuck it inside.

You did that multiple times with more things and as people started to flock everywhere, you knew that you had to go.

Just one more thing and you will leave. As you made your way to the lingerie station, you envisioned which one you'd want to wear tonight as you celebrated yet again another success.

"Hmm," you hummed in concentration as you picked underwear after underwear whether they were slutty enough or just enough. "These suck."

In the end, you settled for this beautiful red, velvet teddy that was sure to hug every curve on your body. You couldn't help but giggle as you imagined yourself laying in bed with a glass of wine in hand.

Having no more space anywhere else, you opted to put it inside your purse. It was big enough to fit it. There was a rush in your veins, the sound of your purse zipper thrumming along with your excitement.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

You froze, in fact, everything froze, but the most remarkable thing was the beating of your heart. The way it stuttered out of beat, that terrified you more than the voice who had interrupted you.

You had hoped that it was just a passing customer or employee as you turned around. You could just put on your best charm, but you cursed under your breath when it wasn’t.

"It's not what you think," you blurted out, feeling dumb. Sue me, you thought. You had never been in a situation like this before.

The security guard squinted his eyes and tilted his head. "Sure doesn't look like it."

He pointed at a certain corner of the clothing racks, and you significantly paled at the small, distinct, beeping light that signified a hidden camera. "He's been watching," he murmured, uninterested.

"Who is?"

"Who else? The owner."

There was a first time for everything, indeed. This was the first time you got caught, and for the first time, there was no getting away with it.

Fuck, you internally cursed. Where did you go wrong?

You had never been more frightened than you were at that moment, especially when a large hand started pulling on your arm and started leading you somewhere.

"W-Where are you taking me? I didn't consent to this," you frowned.

Cold sweat started seeping out of your pores when the security guard's darted towards you. "The owner will want an explanation as to why you're shoplifting," he clicked his tongue. "He's not a particularly easy man to deal with so I would behave, really."

For a split second, you thought about struggling. You can't afford to go to jail for this, it would ruin your record. Another thing was that this man was jacked. Easily a hundred kilos of pure muscle.

You were pulled away, anyway, from the lingerie aisle to God-knows-where and you had to admit to yourself, this wasn't the dopamine rush you were looking for - this was the fear of the aftermath of what you've done.

It was what you would consider the walk of shame. The shame and embarrassment you felt each step you took felt worse than what would happen to you?

Would you go to jail? That was your worst option, it would ruin the little reputation that you have. Perhaps, you can bribe the owner? Nah. A person who owns an establishment like this had no need for the spare change you were going to offer.

A feeling of nausea suddenly overcame you as the security guard pushed the double doors that led to what you could only assume were the security rooms open.

"I got a little thief here," the security guard holding my arms smirks as he shoves me forward, rattling you and all the merchandise you tried to fit into your purse.

The sight that greeted you wasn't something that should've bothered you. It looked like a regular room, minus all the equipment and the cameras and monitors.

Your heart sank. They saw you doing what you were doing, most likely waiting until you got far enough where it would be considered robbery rather than petty theft.

"I'll deal with her. Call Jongho for me real quick."

The pit in your stomach was getting bigger and bigger until it threatened to swallow you whole. By far the one that made you utterly terrified was the man sitting on a swivel chair.

You couldn't see him - at least, not yet. The chair was turned against you and so, the only thing visible was its back and the back of the man's hair.

"Of course," the man that pushed me said. "Should I stay or--"

"No. You may go, San."

You stood still, stiffly, at your spot even when the door had closed behind you and you were left with this man. None of you had said anything, especially him. He stayed unmoving on his chair, minus the drumming of his fingers on his lap.

"What do you think should happen to a little thief, such as yourself?" I'm curious," the man spoke out, startling you out of your stupor. "What were you thinking?"

Before you could second-guess your decision to speak out, you stood straight, feigning modesty. "It wasn't my intention---"

"Cut the crap," the man rudely interrupted. He grabbed a nearby pen and tapped it on the monitor beside him. "I'm pretty sure my eyes aren't giving out on me yet."

"I-I know, I wasn't eluding towards that," you stammered. You weren't expecting someone strong-willed. "I-It's not what you think."

"Oh? Taking a black, lacey thong and shoving it deep in your purse wasn't what I thought it was?"

Embarrassment flooded your whole body and the tips of your toes all the way through your nose tingles and shivers, the bad kind. This man was bad news, and you knew it.

All of this over some underwear?

The door behind me had opened once again and another man had entered. He was also a guard, that you could tell, but what set this one apart was his incredible physique. He wasn't as muscular as the guard that dragged you here, but you wouldn't want to go against this one either.

"You called for me? I had to hurry," he said before looking me up and down. "So you're the swiper."

"I did. I'm leaving, tell Seonghwa he's in charge."

Everything happened in slow motion. Your world went into a passing blur when the chair swiveled forward until it was facing towards you. The purse you were holding had long fallen towards the floor.

The bulky guard picked your purse up for you before he walked away. "Roger that."

The man sitting on the chair had a gleam in his eyes as he stared at you, albeit being cold and calculating. His elbows were propped against the table and his hands were under his chin. He was attractive, definitely your type.

You had a feeling this man would swallow you whole the moment you were left alone with him.

"Jongho? Wait," the man stopped the other from walking away. A small smirk paints his plump lips. "Lock the door."

Those three words. They were the beginning of your demise. All of this for a pair of underwear you knew you were never going to wear anyway.

You cleared your throat nervously. "What are you going to do to me? And who are you?"

You had made a point to emphasize the last question. You knew who he was, of course, there was a name plaque that was placed towards the front of the big wooden table.

'Kim Hongjoong, CEO and Executive Owner'

The man stood up from his chair and began stalking towards you without blinking his eyes and averting them. You could do nothing but stare back at him, it was as if his stare was a weight that prevented you from trying to move from your spot.

He grabbed your purse and took out the thong from it using his index finger. The smirk on his face was borderline demonic. "You must really like these panties for you to potentially go to jail for them," Hongjoong chuckled. "I'm sure you'd look marvelous on them."

Hongjoong suddenly threw the purse on the table, the banging sound startling you, before he dumped its contents all over. "Hey," you protested. "You can't---"

"I can and I will," he side-eyed you, one brow raised. For a second, he calculatingly stared at you, slightly disappointed, before he sighed deeply.

There was no point in defending your case, the evidence was right in front of both of you. You internally cursed. Add this to your other firsts, because this was the first time you didn't know what to do or what to say to get yourself out of a sticky situation.

"I'd ask you if you have receipts for this," he poked his tongue on his cheek obnoxiously. "But you'd probably give me excuses you've told the others before. Tell me, how many?"

You balled your fists, the gesture not escaping Hongjoong's attention. It certainly made his cock twitch inside his pants. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you mumbled, your tongue twisting against your will.

He hummed before hopping up a bit to sit on top of the table. He swiped the name plaque off until it clattered on the floor. "Sweetheart, listen to me," he began. "The last thing you want right now is to be left in the same room as me."

You shook your head fervently before he continued. "You will do everything I say and I won't do anything to you, providing that you'll be a good girl for me."

You bowed your head and nodded, tears springing to your eyes not because of the underlying threat in Hongjoong's voice, but because of the shame of how his words had affected you and caused you to clench around nothing. You subconsciously pressed your thighs together to stop the tingling sensation that buzzed around your pussy.

Hongjoong smiled at your discomfort, and he knew that you knew what he was thinking based on how your hands shook as you clutched your shirt around your fists.

"Am I clear enough for you, my sweet?" Hongjoong mocked. "Or would you like me to reiterate?"

"No, no, please," you hiccupped. "I-I get it."

"Splendid. Come here."

You wanted to disobey him, to tell him that he can shove a stick up his ass and leave you alone, but deep inside, you weren't that stupid. You knew this would be the end of you if you did do so.

None of this would have happened, but of course, you knew you were already in a losing battle the moment he had turned his chair towards you and looked you straight in the eye.

"Sweetheart," he chuckled darkly, clicking his tongue in impatience. "Already defiant? I should just call the police."

Somehow, that idea was less appealing to you rather than being stuck in a room with a potential psychopathic liar who wouldn't hesitate to take you down if he chose to.

"Please don't do that," you swallowed thickly. You put your hands up directly in front of your chest in a pleading motion. He sees this and his smirk widens. "Look, I-I'm sorry, okay? I'll just put them back, I don't want them."

Hongjoong tilts his head playfully, yet dangerously. "Oh, you'll be sorry, alright," he sighed mockingly. "I'll make you sorry."

He puts his arm forward swiftly and you yelped when he grabbed your arms and pulled you hastily towards him. A small groan escapes your lips when your forehead hits his hard chest.

"Easy there, sweetheart, don't hurt yourself," he whispered towards your ear. You could tell he has a smile on his face even when you can't see it.

You hadn't realized that you were positioned in between his legs, your hands on his thighs to cushion yourself from when he had pulled on you. You stiffened, looking at him slowly, tilting your head upwards, only to be met with the nastiest leering of your life.

You jumped a bit when you felt his fingers touch your chin. The touch was light, it could almost be mistaken for something welcoming. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured. "So fucking beautiful."

Instantly, butterflies started fluttering in your stomach. You were undeniably aroused, the air between the two of you was so charged that you could almost taste how electrifying it was.

"How beautiful?"

You bit your lip as soon as the question came out. Hongjoong's thumb pressed on your bottom lip and pulled it out between your teeth. The gesture was so intimate, it made me dizzy.

"I could just eat you up right now," he smirked, his tongue running over his bottom lip. "The question is, would you let me have you, love?"

As arousing this was, you knew that you didn't want this. At least, not like this. "You can't do this," you shook your head, pulling away from his touch.

"No, no, little sweetheart, hold on a second," Hongjoong grabbed your arm back with a cheeky smile. You frowned in response to his hold. "You were this close to giving in, I thought we had a genuine connection here."

This time, you couldn't resist rolling your eyes, completely dropping the damsel act since it clearly wasn’t working on him. Hongjoong's brows rise in intrigue at the obvious change of look in your eyes.

You'd play with him for now. It was better for the situation. A little pretending on your end would ease your tensions. You would roleplay for now.

"I don't think it's part of your job description to hold me against my will like this, you pervert," you sneered, pulling on your arm.

He held tight, however, much to your chagrin. He was definitely intrigued now. Intrigued and rock hard in his pants.

"Does this excite you?" Hongjoong grinned lasciviously.

"Is it supposed to? Especially since," you trailed off a little, making a point to look at him up and down. "I don't see anything that excites me."

Hongjoong tried to stifle his laugh before he completely burst out laughing. You tried not to notice how breathtaking he looked like this - the way his eyes crinkled, his mouth spread out in a wide smile, his cheeks reddened. You were already in control of his perverse nature.

"Oh, sweetheart," he chuckled after his laughter. "This is going to be the best night of our life."

"I only stole thongs."

"Ah, yes," he drawled. You were in for a whiplash when his eyes suddenly darkened. There was no other way to describe it but evil.

"Wait, what are you---"

A squeal escapes your lips when Hongjoong roughly lifts your top. True fear ran through your blood, and he didn't even break eye contact as he was doing it. When the clothes you tried to steal tumbled out of your top, a gruntled sigh can be heard from him.

"Well, what do we have here?" Hongjoong cackled, clearly pleased with how everything was going. "You naughty, naughty girl."

"I-I can explain, please," you stammered pathetically, putting your hands up to fix your top. Hongjoong stared at you expectantly with that mocking expression still on his face and against your better judgment, hot tears started to fill the corners of your eyes.

"And what if I don't want to hear them?" Hongjoong smirked. You weren't expecting it, especially when he started to pout sardonically. "Cry it out, love. You've been a very bad girl, after all."

The tears fell then and there, not because you were ashamed that he had caught you, but because of his very presence, itself. Hongjoong had invoked feelings inside you that overwhelmed you so much, you didn't know what to do with them. But most of all, you were just frightened.

Maybe a quick kick to his balls would distract him enough so you could run away. You weighed your options as you wept, closing your eyes to envision how you'd potentially do it.

Screw it, you thought impulsively. You were never one to ever go down without a fight, and you wouldn't start now.

You stepped back a bit to brace yourself and raised your leg, aiming at his groin to hopefully immobilize him. You saw his eyes widen every so slightly as he watched you try to do what you thought was best at the moment given the situation.

But your shoe didn't touch anything.

"Let me go, you bastard! Ugh! You're going to pay for this," you screeched so loud, your own voice threatened to burst your own eardrums, when Hongjoong held your leg with one hand, squeezing it painfully.

You tried to balance yourself with only one foot and it was hard, but it was better than leaning on Hongjoong again. He smirked before he unceremoniously pushed your leg off, making you lose your balance and completely falling into a heap on the cold, tiled floor on the security room.

"I'd like to see you try," he grinned, baring his teeth like a predator would before it attacked its chosen prey.

And attack he did. You cursed internally as you glared at him from where you were. For someone with a smaller stature, he sure was agile and quicker on his feet than you initially thought possible.

You held back a whimper, clamping your mouth shut, when he leapt from the table down to your level, leaning in with an even wider grin. "Now, this is what I'd like to see," he laughed. "You beneath me like this."

You flushed when his hand cupped his obviously hardened cock and groaned sensually. "It's enough to make a man want to burst right then and there. You want it?"

"You're disgusting," you spat as venomously as you could, even though the sound he made shot straight down your wetness.

"So, you don't think you deserve to be punished?"

Visible shock crossed your features before you could stop yourself. Hongjoong seemed to get immense pleasure from your confused face. Suddenly, he began to lean in closer, and closer, until his face was only a couple of inches away from yours.

"W-Wait, I don't want to k-kiss you," you whined, turning your head away in an attempt to block him from his advances.

He put a finger on your lips and it sent warning signals in your brain. "Silence," he whispered, his eyes drooping and darkened with lust. "Not a sound unless it's you begging for me to have you..."

"P-Please, seriously, I really cannot," another whine sounded from you when he tried to lean again.

This time, annoyance flickered on his face and you gulped when you realized that you had lit the fire in his eyes. "You're testing my patience, sweetheart. I only have so much," he clicked his tongue. "Kiss me. I'll make it good for you."

When you still didn't relent, a growl of anger reverberated around the room. "You're pissing me off," Hongjoong hissed, his crazed eyes widening in ire. "Don't you know that playing hard to get will only land you in more trouble? Get on the table, now."

You didn't dare move, but this time, it was out of fear versus the defiant streak you've been giving him since you arrived in the room. Hongjoong opted to stand beside the wooden table, his eyes intently watching you will your trembling legs to stop.

He's sick, you thought. The way he smiled to himself like he was currently on top of the world made you realize that he was definitely holding back from unleashing all his demons on you. The worst part was that an even sicker part of you wished that he would soon.

In the end, Hongjoong forcefully dragged you to the table, himself, because his impatience and your insubordination was killing him on the inside. The way you struggled against him brought him a horrid sense of satisfaction. He'd have fun breaking you, he'd make sure of it.

"Fuck, my sweet girl," he bit his lip to stop himself from groaning out loud. The way you were sprawled on the table below him made him shiver in delight. "You look so good like this."

"P-Please," you sniffled, struggling once more against his hold, especially against his hand that held your wrists above your head. "I won't do it again, you're scaring me."

"That's because I am trying to scare you," Hongjoong said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. He smirked, tightening his hold. "But, you're turned on, aren't you?"

You marveled at the way he stared at your body up and down, gazing upon you as if he was trying to commit your current form into his memory. The things he said had made you angry, but you couldn't deny that he was right - he did turn you on.

But you weren't going to admit it. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

He hummed before he let your wrists go so he could pull you closer to him by pulling you by your waist, your core nestled comfortably at his midsection. "I think you do."

You didn't know what terrified you more - the dangerous position you were in right now, or the way your fright had made his eyes go wild, wide, and crazy with lust and arousal. He resembled something akin to sin, but damn, everybody sins once in a while, don't they?

Shivers erupted on your skin when his hands started to trail all over your body. It got more and more difficult to suppress the sounds that your body wants to make, especially when his hand slowly started creeping higher and higher until it went up your skirt.

You panicked and jumped. "Stop it! What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like? You can see for yourself, if you'd like," he cockily replied with a small chuckle.

"We can talk about thi---"

"Sure," he rudely interrupted with a wicked gleam in his eyes. You whined when he squeezed your inner thighs. "I'm also sure you'd have a lovely conversation with the police as well."

You looked at him, horrified at his blatant intention with you. "Just let me go," you pleaded. "I-I promise I won't tell anyone about this, Hongjoong, please."

He pushed you back down and you couldn't help but wince in surprise. "No," he grunted out. "My name sounds too good on your lips, baby. Why would I do that?"

You felt his hand reach the band of your underwear and he bit his lips. You unconsciously clench around nothing at the sight of his sinful mouth, your mind suddenly reeling at the thought of what that mouth can do to you. Good things, you bet.

"I'm going to do anything I want with you, think of it as your punishment," he shrugged. "What say you, Y/N?"

"Do I have any other choices? Because it seems like I do not," you frowned, cowering under his impertinent gaze.

"You do, you always will," he shrugged nonchalantly. "In fact, you can choose to leave right now. I'm just saying that staying is your 'get out of jail' card. Pick your poison."

Hongjoong grinned at your pale face. "And when you're in jail, sweetie, you're going to wish you were still with me," he purred.

"Y-You wouldn't dare," you shook your head in denial, your chest constricting at the possibility. "You wouldn't!"

You let out an actual scream when he slammed his palms on the table on either side of your head. He managed to lean down so close, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. You supposed you weren't the only one anxious - excited - at the prospect of what's going to happen.

"I'm sorry, I-I'll just pay for them," you mumbled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment of how much his roughness was turning you on so much. Still, you had dignity to keep. "I have enough money to pay..."

It was true. It was what made your kleptomaniac tendencies all the more embarrassing. You couldn't take all the credit, however, your family had the money, not you. If you so choose, you could buy every single thing this department store had and you'd still have more money than the average person.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue as he stared down at you. "I know. I'm aware who you are, sweetheart."

You shook your head in denial. "Impossible."

He laughed, his chest vibrating against your own. It had certainly made the room even hotter. "Nothing is impossible, Song Y/N."

He wasn't supposed to know that. Time stood still as you stared at him. The maliciousness in his eyes deepened when he saw how stumped you were.

Your heart almost leapt out of your ribcage and landed itself plush on Hongjoong's hands when he thrust his hips against you. You had to stifle the moans that wanted to push past your lips, there was no way you were giving in to this man. Not like this.

You did, however, gasp when his hand started kneading your breast. "Here's what's going to happen," his voice thickened with impalpable lust. "You are going to call your brothers and tell them you're going to be late."

You whined, wiggling a bit to relieve the pleasurable sensation Hongjoong made you feel, but to no avail. "Stay put," he growled. A yelp resounded from you when he pinched your inner thigh hard. "Go on. Do as I say. I do not want to be interrupted once I start."

The danger that loomed over you terrified you to no end, but you weren't going to stop trying to do something as a last ditch effort. "I-I don't have brothers," you denied, stuttering as you felt his hand squeeze your breast harder while the other hand stoked your legs slowly.

He smiled, but instead of making you feel better, it terrified you even more. It wasn't the smile that was supposed to comfort you, it was the one where he knew you were lying through your teeth.

"A liar on top of being a thief, huh?" Hongjoong chuckled. His hand went higher and higher until he groaned when he felt your damp underwear. "Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi. Yunho, the oldest, was your father's son from his previous marriage, and Mingi is your fraternal twin brother."

You squint your eyes at him. Anger ran thick through your blood. Hongjoong faltered for a split second before he got his composure back. You supposed everyone kept their own secrets.

He leaned down until his lips were touching your ear. You were so taken aback by his knowledge that you couldn't even afford to feel pleasure in it. "And you," he whispered. "The mayor's well kept daughter. So well kept, in fact, that the majority of people don't even know you exist."

He wasn't supposed to know that. Your father kept you hidden not because he doesn't love you. In fact, he loved you too much. He didn't want you to find a man that only approached you as an extension of his position in politics.

You were done for. If Hongjoong's earlier actions had scared you, you were now dead petrified of this man. "Who the hell are you? That's classified information," you couldn't help but say.

There was something about Hongjoong that made him especially fearful. It was an entirely different domain of dominance you had never seen in any other man you've encountered. One look was all it took for you to unravel yourself for him, and he knew that you knew this.

He ignored your question, opting to lean away from you and lifting both of his hands from your body temporarily. You breathe our a sigh of relief but it gets cut short when he hands you the receiver of his desk phone. He still wanted you to call your brothers.

The shift in his eyes when he held your hand and hastily placed the phone in your hands had you shutting your mouth. He looked absolutely insane and crazed, especially now that he has you where he wanted you. Kim Hongjoong reminded you of an A-Grade psychopath; an insatiably attractive psychopath.

You were definitely a moth to a flame.

"Hello. You have reached the Secretary to the Mayor, Jeong Yunho, and I am unfortunately not available to speak with you right now..."

The familiar voicemail of your older brother had you panicking on the inside. You cursed under your breath. When Yunho said he wasn't available, he meant it. He wasn't someone who you could call back.

"What's the hold up?" Hongjoong asked impatiently, his hands caressing the bands of your underwear, teasing little circles on them as if he was deciding if he should take them off or not.

You ignored him, along with the zings of pleasure down your wetness, and dialed your other brother's number while you imagined ways to smack his head if he didn't pick up the frantic phone call you were---

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth before you could stop it. Mingi's voice brought you immediate comfort. "Y-Yeah," you answered. "How'd you know it was me? This isn't my number."

There was a pause on the other line before a sigh resounds. "I-I had a feeling, I was actually going to call you in ten minutes," Mingi said.

Your heart warmed. There was no scientific backing about twin telepathy or something even remotely similar, but you and Mingi could swear that both of you always had that weight pressing on your chest whenever the other was in great distress. Today was one of those times.

Suddenly, Hongjoong leaned over the landline and pressed a particular button - the loudspeaker. You gulped and gave him a questioning look. "W-What are you doing?"

Once again, he ignored you. You would've been fine with it, but when he paused only to look up and smirk, you knew right then and there, that you were done for. He went from caressing to full-on massaging your hips and thighs.

You opted to put the receiver away from your ear and covered it with your palm. Your heart was beating a million miles per second. "I-I'm on the phone---"

"Shhh," Hongjoong hushed you, his stare becoming more and more devilish. "I'm not stopping you from talking, aren't I?"

My entire body was on fire. His entire hand disappeared under your skirt and the first contact he had that was remotely close to your snug heat, you yelped in utter surprise.

"Are you hurt, Y/N? What's the matter?"

You immediately fumbled and uncovered the phone to speak. "Y-Yeah," you covered up your nervousness with a small chuckle of uncertainty. "I-It's just a little hot over here, you know?"

Desire was slowly taking over your body, Hongjoong's gentle prod to spread your legs intensifying the intense craving. You could tell that his patience was slowly waning out, especially when he ripped your underwear clean in the middle.

You purse your lips to stop the moan that threatened to spill out of your lips. The cold air that he blew straight down there had you clutching the wooden table with your blunt fingernails. Your breathing became faster and faster as he started his onslaught.

"I could tell," Mingi laughed breathily. "I could hear your breathing. You've always been the one who sweated the most when the three of us were younger."

Your toes curled in on themselves when Hongjoong wasted no time slipping a finger inside your dripping sex. You couldn't help but hold onto his shoulder for support before you fell over. You blushed, not for the pleasure, but for the shame, not believing that you were getting fingered while on the phone with your brother, no less.

"S-Say, Min-Min," you began, clearing your throat. "I d-don't think I'm---oh!"

Oh, you were sure Mingi knew what was happening. Hongjoong curled his finger up and hit a particular spot that had you reeling from where you were lying. You kicked his shoulder in retaliation. He tilted his head towards you as a challenge.

Your eyes widened when he started thrusting his finger in and out of you without any mercy. The pleasure was eating you alive; a fire that swallowed you in its heat. Your back arched involuntarily at his ministrations as you twisted it to reach for the mute button on the phone, but your arm was grabbed and shoved away.

"You want to be a brat?" Hongjoong scoffed, bringing up his other hand to rub circles on your clit. "Keep talking, I didn't tell you to stop."

You shook your head repeatedly, your eyes begging him to stop. Without breaking eye contact, he turned his head to give you small love bites all over your lower legs. Eventually, he slowed down. He didn't stop, but you'd rather take this.

"You're worrying me, Y/N. I'm not fucking around anymore," Mingi's voice switched from that playful tone you knew to the tone he'd use on you when he's back in business. "Are you hurt or not? I'll come pick you up, where are you?"

Hongjoong laughed under his breath at that and you heard the distinct jingle of the car keys that you knew belonged to Mingi. "N-No! Wait!"

You bit your lip and reprimanded yourself internally. That sounded more defensive than you intended it to. "I'm fine, seriously," you squeaked. "You don't---"

"You know we're twins, right?" Mingi deadpanned. "I know when you're lying."

You released a heavy breath, your hand moving from Hongjoong's shoulder to his head, tangling your fingers in between his luscious hair strands. He buried his head on your inner thigh, giving it more tiny kisses and even tinier sucks, before you felt his tongue hit your wetness.

"B-But I'm n-not though." you whined. You just hoped it sounded like you were complaining rather than it sounding pleasure-filled.

You glanced down and almost combusted. Seeing Hongjoong's eyes closed as he lapped your pussy turned you on more than his mouth did. He explored you in your most intimate places as if he was memorizing the way you tasted in his tongue. You needed to come, and Hongjoong knew it.

"Y/N," Mingi sighed. "It's the heat, I get it, no need to be ashamed. Father won't be mad seeing you needing help once in a while. I don't want you to get hurt..."

You tuned out Mingi's voice, not by choice, however. Hongjoong's mouth was that good. He knew how to turn you on, as much as you hated to admit it, and he already figured out the areas that made you squirm under his hold.

You covered the phone again. "G-Gonna come," you whispered breathlessly.

Hongjoong hummed, the vibrations making you squirm even more. He pulled away for a second and you almost whined from the loss. "Yeah? Hold it in, sweetheart," he whispered back. "I don't think you want to come right now."

You wanted to protest, to say that this was his fault and he started it, but you knew that he was right even though all you wanted to do right was squirt on his face.

"You know what, fuck this. You're not listening," Mingi's gruff voice snapped me out. "We didn't vouch for your independence only for you to get sick so---"

"Who's sick?"

You went rigid. Your entire body just froze immediately and you went so motionless all of a sudden that even Hongjoong had to stop and look up at you in confusion. You felt his hand rest on your thighs reassuringly. Just like that, your orgasm had completely died down.

"Hand me the phone," you heard your other brother deadpan. God, you could just imagine him with his palms out demandingly.

"Why?" Mingi asked apprehensively.

"Because I said so," the former supplied like it was a well-known fact. Mingi argued further in the background but was stopped immediately. "Need I remind you that you're not even supposed to be here right now? I could easily tell Father."

There was a shuffling sound on the other end before there was a sudden pause before a voice spoke out. "Y/N."

You gulped before answering. "Y-Yunho."

It wasn't as if you didn't like Yunho or you were scared of him. You loved him like you loved Mingi. He was just more rigid, more strict, and more emotionally absent since he was the oldest out of you three. Your father had raised him like this, but even so, and sometimes, you supposed that you were intimidated by him.

"This is not your number, where are you?" Yunho sounded exasperated and you couldn't help but bite your lip. "Are you not in the house?"

"N-No, I-I, uh, I went out for a bit and..."

You stared at Hongjoong, contemplating what to do. He sensed what you were thinking and pressed on your inner thighs. You had to bite your inner cheeks this time, because Mingi was easier to fool than Yunho. Your excuses would not work this time.

"Speak up, little one," Yunho scolded. "If Father found out you sounded like this, even I would not be able to stop him from bringing you back."

Right. As if he didn't sound even more intimidating. Your father wanted to hide you so much, but you felt suffocated in the house. Yunho might have been the way he is, but deep down, you knew he didn't want you to end up like he was raised.

Hongjoong stared at you with this unreadable expression on his face, but you ignored it, opting to clear your throat before speaking up again. "I'm not sick," you explained. "I lost my phone and I'm just having a bit of difficulty finding it."

It was a shitty excuse, and as Hongjoong smirked devilishly in your direction, you had hoped that it would work.

"When did you become so careless?" Yunho chided once more. "Fear not. I shall purchase you a new one immediately."

Hongjoong scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he didn't say anything. "I'm not, and no need," you frowned. "Never mind, I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm going to be home late. That phone had sentimental value to me."

You stared at the said phone that lay near the area where Hongjoong was. That part was truthful at least, and Yunho stayed silent this time. He did give you that phone, after all.

"I cannot stop you from doing what you want, so go ahead," he said. You frowned, heart stinging a little at his nonchalance.

"I'll let you know," you murmured.

As you were about to hang up, Yunho's voice filled the phone again. "Wait."

You raised a brow, a bit surprised, even more so when he said the next few words that'll lighten you up before he hung up. "Take care, little one."

It was short-lived, however. The moment Yunho had hung up, Hongjoong took this opportunity to pounce on you again like a starved animal that had waited too long for its meal to be served.

"W-Wait, you can't do this," you whined, pushing on him again when he resumed what he had started earlier.

"That phone call wasn't supposed to be that long," Hongjoong rolled his eyes, his fingers finding their place inside me again. "Your brothers are fucking weird. One's a potential asshole and the other one has a stick up his ass all the time."

You squint your eyes to contain the fire within them. "Don't talk about them like that!"

"Or what?" Hongjoong challenged. "You're dripping on my hand, sweetheart, I wouldn't talk if I were you. Because I could easily do this."

You shrieked when he went down on you again, but this time, he was sucking on your clit while his fingers still went in and out of you like a piston, his thumb specifically hitting your bud along with his tongue.

"Oh, God, mhm," you couldn't help but groan out, no matter how embarrassing.

"There is no God, Y/N. It's just you and me here," Hongjoong laughed against your pussy. "Finish what you started earlier. Come on my fucking face..."

Yeah, it was definitely embarrassing. You weren't someone who would orgasm fast, if anything, it was difficult to get there most of the time because your other partners just either weren't good, or you weren't that much attracted to them. Yeah, you were messed up from getting cross- eyed and screaming in pleasure.

"Fuck, yeah, give it to me, pretty," Hongjoong laughed maniacally as he stared at your fucked-out face, his fingers not relenting, though his tongue had long stopped from slurping your juices. He'd save it for later.

Frankly, it was the best orgasm of your life so far. You were never going to admit that to him, though. His ego would be the size of this room.

"S-Stop," you whined, pushing his head away weakly. "S-Sensitive..."

"Aww," he sniggered, his lips down turning tauntingly. His fingers went from going in and out to massaging your sweet spot. "But you look so fucking good like this."

"O-Oh," you sighed breathily. "I r-really can't, p-please stop..."

Hongjoong clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, pulling his fingers out. He looked almost disappointed, but you didn't care.

You stared at the bright light up the ceiling, your chest rising up and down, the realization slowly sinking into you. Your cheeks rivaled the brightness of the light, not believing that you had just let him do whatever he wanted with you like this.

It wasn't like you didn't like it, but you wished it was in another circumstance.

You turned your head to look at Hongjoong, and whilst you were analyzing him, he couldn't help but falter a bit.

He wasn't kidding when he said you looked pretty, he meant it. In fact, you looked a little too pretty for him just laying down his table, ready to be taken by the plucking. He wasn't impartial to the effect he does to you, he could see how you trembled the longer he stared.

He strode forward with a purpose. This wasn't part of his plan, but he needed to taste you. He just hoped his strides weren't borderline desperate.

Your eyes widened when he snaked his hand on the back of your neck and lifted it towards his face, and before you could react, his eyes had already closed and his lips had already met yours.

His lips were pillowy soft, just the way you liked it, and it moved so well in sync with yours. It was undeniable how strong our chemistry was as our lips moved to fight for dominance. It ignited a fire within you that unfortunately, nobody else can ever put out anymore.

You could feel his smirk against yours, his tongue entangled with yours, as you tasted yourself from his lips. Combine that with Hongjoong's own taste, you were definitely screwed.

"So I guess this is payment enough," you murmured, pulling away from him just enough to get your point across.

"Think you can come for me again, sweetie?" Hongjoong asked, completely ignoring your statement.

"W-What?"

To say that you were reeling was probably an understatement on your end. He pulled away momentarily, and you thought he was done, but then he dipped his head down your shoulder after he pushed your top aside. You whimpered when he gave your skin tiny, little kisses so gentle, you forgot what you were initially here for.

"Well?" Hongjoong whispered, his voice wavering. His lips made a small trail for your shoulder to your neck until he was dead set on one spot he knew you'd feel hot all over for. "You're gonna give it to me, right?"

"I-I'm not sure," you spoke in broken moans.

"It's alright," he cooed. His hands were already back on your inner thighs. "Come on, baby, I'll make you feel so good..."

He didn't even give you a chance to reply. His fingers were already tracing your slit, his little groans of pleasure at the wet sounds your pussy was producing had your mind spinning. You were so lost into him; it was as if he had literally mesmerized you into his bidding.

"Ah, oh, that f-feels, ah," you stammered helplessly against his touch. His fingers adeptly played with your pussy, alternating between pushing inside you ever so slightly and rubbing delicious circles on your clit.

"Yeah?" Hongjoong moaned softly, his kisses on your neck getting softer and softer as if he was making the sweetest love with it. "This cunt is mine, hmm?"

"Wait, I-I didn't say tha---"

"You will now," he gave your neck more sensual kisses. His warm breath hitting your skin made you extremely dizzy. His hand trails on your arm up and down even more sensually. "Ah, come on, baby, mmm, say it..."

Your groin was on fire, the tingling sensations that Hongjoong's coaxing was altering your brain chemistry all in all. You whined quietly, tilting your neck to meet his lips subconsciously. This was highly dangerous for you; exceedingly addicting.

His lips had migrated to your jawline, rendering you down to a slave to his desires. He doesn't put his fingers inside you, however, and you weren't sure if you liked that or not.

"I'll help you. Repeat after me, yeah?" Hongjoong whispered, his voice almost inaudible. "Say, 'I'm all yours,' it's easy enough."

You tried opening your mouth to say something, but nothing came out when you tried to pry the words out of your mouth. He clicked his tongue, teasing you by slowly biting on your earlobes.

"Say it, don't be shy," he commanded softly. "I'm all yours."

"I-I'm all y-yours..."

Shame washed all over you the moment you said the words. He made a sound of approval, but he wasn't done yet.

"Good, good," he goaded, laughing breathily. "Say it again..."

"I'm all yours---"

"Daddy," he insisted, finally pulling away to look you straight in the eye. "Say you're mine, baby."

Goosebumps rose from your arms all the way to your shoulders, leaving you with shivers along their wake. "I'm all yours, d-daddy," you squeaked pathetically.

An animalistic grin stretches across his entire mouth. "That's right, you're going to give me my pussy, right?"

When he put it like that, you grasped how hypnotized you were with his words within a couple of minutes. Realization washed over you and your eye contact with him breaks, much to Hongjoong's chagrin. You both knew his spell was broken.

"Is this what you do to all the people who shoplift? Because this is wild," you frowned deeply, pushing away from him by holding onto his shoulders for support so you wouldn't fall off.

He smirked, shaking his head. "No. Just you."

"Somehow, I find that difficult to believe," you chuckled without any humour in it. You were playing with fire by egging him but you couldn't help. You wanted to know.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes on you, clearly annoyed with your accusations. "You seem to be following me willingly just fine earlier, sweetheart," he scoffed. "If I really wanted to, I'd make you do way more than this."

"Wasn't earlier enough? I don't believe this," you shook your head in disbelief.

"Well, you better believe it, because you still have to pay the price," he chuckled darkly. "Just not with money."

Hongjoong pushed your hands away from him and walked backwards from where you were sitting until his back hit the wall across from you so he could lean against it. Your jaw hung from his implication, the nerve of this bastard!

He nodded towards your forgotten purse. "You know what I've been thinking the whole time, sweets? I wonder how good you'd look with those on."

You blushed furiously, the scenarios of what he's implying playing through your head. The lingerie you stole was very skimpy. "Good, I'm sure," you mumbled thoughtlessly.

"Oh? Prove it."

It began to dawn on you what exactly he wanted you to do. You had hoped that you were wrong, but alas, this man in front of you was as dangerous as he was unpredictable.

You didn't respond. He stared at you with unfiltered lust, waiting to see what you were going to do.

"And if I chose not to do it?"

Hongjoong's brows drew together. "You know exactly what's going to happen," he sighed, irritated. "It's not going to be difficult, I already tore your panties off of you earlier, anyway."

His mouth was scandalous, too. However, this was a better alternative than the horrible life that was jail. It was a losing battle so you closed your eyes, and with a deep sigh, you started to unbutton your clothes until your top was completely off along with your skirt, leaving you only in your undergarments.

Since you had no panties anymore, your pussy was fully exposed in front of him. Redness covered your entire face and neck at your nudity, but this was a small price to pay so he wouldn't call the cops.

Hongjoong wanted to bust inside his pants right then and there. The sight of your shaved pussy filled his mind with animalistic urges. He held himself off, at least for now, to savour your nakedness. He'll take his time claiming you soon.

He crossed his arms as he watched you take your clothes off. There wasn't any expression on his face whatsoever and the only indication that he was enjoying this more than he was letting on was the growing tent in his pants.

"Do you want me to put them on for you?" Hongjoong raised a brow, the tone of his voice shifting from lighthearted to angry. You quickly shook your head. "Alright, hurry up before I do it myself."

You avoided eye contact, opting to look on the floor, and bit your lips in nervousness. Slowly, your hands went backwards to the hooks of your bra, but they were shaking with so much anxiety that even if you tried, unhooking them became challenging.

"Don't piss me off, sweetheart. I don't have all day," he warned, tone clipped and irate. "Take them off now."

You tried to open your mouth to reason with him, but all he did was glare at you so hard with an anger so intense, it almost disintegrated you from your spot.

"Take them off!" Hongjoong yelled. You jumped from your spot when he banged his fist on the wooden panel walls of the office. It effectively rattles the entire room and your insides.

After trying again, it finally unhooked and soon enough, your breasts were spilling out of your bra, but before they were fully exposed, you hastily grabbed the lingerie set and put on the bra that was included in it.

Next were the panties. You started putting them on quickly and that's when you noticed that they were crotchless. You paled, that would mean your hole would be fully exposed to Hongjoong's desires. You slowly craned your head towards his direction, heart beating fast.

His eyes were hooded, cloudy with the unmistakable need to completely dominate you. His breathing became laboured, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed down the saliva building up in his mouth with how delectable you looked.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. He always knew you looked good, and he knew that you'd look even better with the lingerie on, but goddamn, was he not expecting you to look this good.

He needed to be inside you. He needed to have you. He needed you.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Come on, give daddy a little twirl, love," he coaxed, voice hoarse, as he twisted his index finger in a twirling motion. "I wanna see that perky ass."

"But I don't want to do it for you," you frowned, shaking your head to cover up the fact that you were getting insanely turned on from him making you call him daddy.

"That's just too bad, isn't it, sweetheart?"

You had no idea where he was getting his audacity, but you weren't going to question it any further. You reckon it was from owning this whole damn mall, but still.

It's an absolute mess, isn't it? There was no use denying it, a sick part of you was extremely attracted to the even sicker man that was Kim Hongjoong. Your mind was telling you to run away, your heart being the one to pull you back, but your pussy was telling you to please him with whatever you have.

Reluctantly, you turned around, twirling like a little doll, just like he wanted. You were beet red with embarrassment, and you heard his groan of approval from behind you as he stared at your plump behind.

"Been working out, huh?" Hongjoong teased, whistling salaciously to emphasize his point.

"Maybe," you murmured. "Are you going to let me go after? I-I just want to go home."

"Maybe," he bit back cryptically.

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at how ridiculous this all was.

The mischief in that Cheshire-like smile that was bigger than anything else you've ever seen and it had almost given you the shivers. You were glad he was far away from you across the room, you didn’t want him in your face.

He screamed authority - you weren't sure if you hated it down to hell or loved it towards the high heavens.

You felt self-conscious all of a sudden, your hands moved themselves to cover what little skin you could. Hongjoong tilts his head in your peripheral vision, but chooses not to say anything as he watches you squirm from where you were standing.

Holes were the only thing missing on your body by how hard he was staring. Your almost nudity wasn't bothering you this time, though. He was probably staring at all your flaws and imperfections and it worried you more than anything else.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Hongjoong mumbled, his brow raised in question.

You frowned. "What?"

"You're fucking pretty," he clarified crudely without any ounce of shame, licking his bottom lip slowly, dragging the wet muscle seductively. "The prettiest girl I've ever seen in my entire life. You really are."

A laugh bubbles out of your chest with said chest jiggling unnecessarily and catching Hongjoong's sharp gaze. "Do you honestly expect me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth?"

"No," he shrugged nonchalantly. Your frown deepens when he gets to his feet and starts to walk forward. "Which is why I'm going to show you," he pauses to raise his hand. "Come to me, love."

It was a losing fight and deep down, you knew it. Still, you didn't move, not because you were trying to resist, but because this time, you felt genuine uncertainty for the first time since entering this room almost an hour ago by now.

You gulped. "A-Are you going to...?"

"Mhhm," he replied faster than you'd like. He makes grabbing motions by closing his fists and opening them. "I'm getting impatient."

You avoided eye contact with him. It was a mistake on your end because the moment your eyes left his, was the moment Hongjoong set out his attack and dug his claws onto your skin.

Your scream was cut off when he turned you around and pushed you down the table so now you were leaning against the edge of it, ass in air. You didn't mean to be that loud, you were just so surprised by the sudden jerk of your body.

"W-Wait---"

There was a shushing sound from behind you and you were about to turn your head to look but you felt his hand on the back of it and pushed down. "H-Hongjoong, hold on---"

You didn't mean to moan when he roughly pulled your panties all the way down to your feet in one motion, and just like that, your entire behind was exposed to him to do whatever he wanted with it. That just left you with your bra, which surprisingly, he didn't touch.

A whimper slips past your lips when you hear the telltale crinkling of a condom wrapper being opened before you see the wrapper being carelessly thrown away somewhere, of course without its contents. That, alone, was enough to make your heart beat out of tune.

You felt his clothed chest press onto your back when he leaned forward, his lips teasing the back of your ears. "O-Oh, ngh," your garbled moans sounded when you felt his wet fingers prod your empty hole, lubing it from the outside.

It suddenly reminded you of your deepest, darkest secret - you were always into the roleplay aspect of sex. It was something you've only told one person before and now that it's happening, you weren't sure on how to react.

"Show's over," his voice was harsh and laboured as he whispered from behind you. Your voice was caught in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock press onto its goal. "Or is it?"

You haven't even internalized what he said yet when he held your hips tightly and started to enter you, his lust evident with how firm his shove was. You both moaned in sync, especially when you accidentally squeezed him in.

He was cursing under his each with each thrust forward and when he had finally burrowed deep inside you, he paused for a little so as to not overwhelm you.

Try as he might, you just felt too good for him to preserve his self-control. You weren't faring any better, his cock hit you just right. If anything, you were worried that the pleasure might drive you into incoherence. You didn't want to embarrass yourself any further.

You felt completely stuffed, and you couldn't help but moan his name out loud. "H-Hongjoong..."

You heard him groan in pleasure. He pulled out a bit only for him to enter again carefully. It was almost agonizing, you could feel every inch of his cock creating the friction you were craving for since you had laid eyes on him.

"It's not so bad is it?" Hongjoong groaned, reaching underneath you to play with your swollen nipples. "Fuck, you feel my cock deep inside you, huh?"

You didn't respond, not giving him the satisfaction he wanted yet. Ripples of pleasure spreads from your core all throughout your body as Hongjoong impales you with his thick cock over and over again, not too fast, just enough for the both of you to be a sweaty, panting mess.

At this point, you couldn't care less if there were people who could hear from outside. The only sounds in the room were the table creaking from all the thrusting Hongjoong was doing in and out of you, the slapping of skin to skin, and the moans you let out as your pussy took all the beating from Hongjoong's insatiable lust.

"You just make me so fucking horny, sweetheart, ah," he growled, thrusting particularly deep this time. "I wanna stay in this pussy forever, what do you think?"

"F-Fuck, oh, s-stop doing t-that," you panted, not able to properly produce words from Hongjoong's unrelenting thrusts.

"What? This?"

His hips pistoned into you so hard, that the table edges were scratching your stomach from too much friction. You wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow your skin there would be so dry.

Hongjoong seemed to take notice of this. Reluctantly, he pulled out of you and for a second, you almost whined at the sudden loss of his cock filling you, but then he started to carry you to another past of the room where a couch lay waiting.

He hastily took off his clothes after laying you down, and after sprawling on top of your body, he thrust back into you once more in one fluid motion. He growled at the sensation, the sound of it making you even wetter than you already were.

"Yeah, oh baby," he hissed, this time not holding back on his animalistic desires, as he fucked you onto the couch. "Kiss me."

Your lips found his and you didn't hesitate to scream into his mouth as he kept burying his cock deeper and deeper inside you, if that was possible. Your entire body was on fire and the only thing that could quench your growing heat was Hongjoong, himself.

"God, your tits look so fucking great in these," his mouth pulled away to latch on your soft flesh, eliciting the dirtiest noises from you that you weren't aware you could produce in the first place.

"Feels good," you couldn't help but let out. "A-Ah, Hongjoong..."

"Yeah?" Hongjoong breathed out. "Want me to go faster or slower?"

"I-I don't know," you moaned out truthfully. You weren't sure if that answer was for his question or an admission on your end. Sweat was starting to trail down from your temples down to your chin.

"It's okay," he shushed. "How about you close your eyes and let me do all the work?"

Suddenly, he was taken aback when he thrust forward. He could've sworn he felt you fuck back onto him . It was all the confirmation he needed. His hand meanders towards the back of your head then pulls it towards him so his lips were against your forehead.

The gesture was so intimate and you reigned yourself from giving in to him, but when he started whispering your name like a mantra, you failed in the attempt.

"Y/N, shit," he growled over and over again. "I stand corrected," he groaned lowly. "You look beautiful, prettier, taking my cock like this."

You surrendered to the pleasure and closed your eyes. His cock surging in and out of your pussy as his other hand cupped your face tenderly was a juxtaposition. Your body went from taking a fucking to lifting your hips up to meet his as you helplessly squirmed underneath him, soft moans of bliss escaping your lips.

Suddenly, his fingers prodded your lips open. On instinct, you opened your mouth to accommodate him. "Ah," he chuckled lazily. "There she is..."

He drew his cock back the same time his fingers in your mouth did, paused, and drove back - both his cock and fingers - inside your holes just as deeply. You met his eyes as he looked down on you. They burned, this whole room could burn and you still wouldn't look away.

"Just like that, sweetheart, keep looking at me while I'm fucking you," he grunted, his face getting faster, sloppier. "Fuck, look at you, taking me so well..."

You tried to moan a protest, but there was a sick satisfaction that overcame his features when he saw that you couldn't speak since he was plugging your mouth. "It's true though," he panted, sighing in intense pleasure. "You just take it so fucking well, sweetheart."

One angle in his thrusting made you bite on his fingers, your eyes widened, whimpering because you didn't want to hurt him, but all he did was shush you, whispering words of reassurance that of how you couldn't possibly hurt him.

"H-Hongjoong, a-ah, fuck, I-I wanna come," you practically begged, your hands moving to his shoulders and squeezing to make your point known.

"Not yet, sweetie, not yet," he grunts. He, then, moved his hands so now they were fully cupping your whole face. He aligns it to his and now that you were staring directly into his eyes, you couldn't help but let out a small smile.

You felt him twitch inside you and you couldn't help your giggle even though you bit your bottom lip to stop the sound. In turn, Hongjoong let out a mixture of his own laugh and his grunts as he plunged into you in long, deep strokes instead of the rapid, shallow ones he's used to doing.

"You okay?" Hongjoong voiced out after a while, trying to stop his smirk as he looked at your fucked out face.

"Mhhm," you moaned out. "I-I just---"

"You want to come?"

You nodded so hard, you felt your neck strain at the sudden force. "P-Please, Joongie?"

He almost busted at your small, whiny voice as you begged for your orgasm. God, if the image of you underneath him as your greedy pussy swallowed his cock wasn't enough, you just had to sound as equally good as you looked. You were definitely set to torture him.

"Goddamn it, Y/N, how am I supposed to last like this?" Hongjoong's voice was borderline whiny as well, his climax creeping in on him. "Good girls don't come until I tell them to."

You could have cried in frustration. "I'll be good, I'll be so good, daddy," you hiccupped, your tears welling up in your eyes. Safe to say, you were into him just as much as he was into you - literally on his end.

"I know, you already are, my sweet girl," he said. "You're such a good girl, yes? Come on, say it."

"I'm d-daddy's good girl," a lone tear falls from your eye. "I'm y-your good girl, Joongie..."

The little grunts he let out almost sent your vision black as his strokes got faster, sloppier, his hips pistoning onto yours, the sound of skin slapping against each other echoey all over the room, in your ears. You were so deep in this, and the thing was, you never wanted to get out.

"I'm going to fuck you into this couch, baby, and then I'm going to fuck you some more after we're done..."

"Y-You have to make me come first," you pouted even when your sight was beginning to get hazy from all the pleasure that Hongjoong was willing to indulge you in.

Hongjoong laughed, a real laugh, his chest bubbling with unspoken happiness despite all the lust that clouded his entire being. "Oh, I will," he leaned in, burying his face on your neck. "I'm going to count to three, I want you to come in one, can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

You nodded without hesitation and Hongjoong swore you never looked more beautiful than you did right now. He kissed your neck in acknowledgement before he completely let go of all his inhibitions and began to actually fuck you hard and fast.

"Three," he pounded away so forcefully, the couch began to move from its spot backwards inch by inch, and you loved every second of it.

He grabbed your throat for a moment, squeezed, and suddenly let go. It cut off your screams as your oxygen paused for a second. He did that over and over again until you got lightheaded. Somehow, that intensified the pleasure his cock gave you.

"Ah! Joongie, fuck, oh, oh, fu---"

He kissed you passionately, the movement of his lips bruising yours, matching the way his hips moved to its pace. Both of your moans mixed in with one another, and it was nothing short of filthy.

"Two," he ground onto you, the number almost melting into nothingness. He continued to kiss you, as if he was pouring everything he couldn't tell you into the fiery sensation of him sucking your soul out through your mouth.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as his cock went impossibly deeper into you, and crossed them. Your nails repeatedly dragged across his skin, leaving angry marks on them that you'll, for sure, savour later. You were already proud of them.

"I'm such a w-whore for you, daddy," you let out, something you didn't intend on doing, but for some reason, it just slipped out of you.

Hongjoong moaned into your mouth, your lips drowning and swallowing the sounds. He was whining and whimpering wildly as his hips stuttered and chased his high, using your body as nothing more than a tool for his own pleasures.

Fuck it. There was no going back from this anyway. "Are you going to come inside me?"

"Yeah, I'm going to fucking fill you up," he growled, his sweat dripping onto my skin. He pressed his forehead with mine, forcing eye contact. "Do you want me to come inside you? Is that what you want?"

You bit your lip so hard, it almost bled, but you nodded regardless. "Y-Yeah..."

A growl sounds out from the back of his throat as he pulls out from you temporarily. He slips the condom off from his hard cock and tosses it at the nearby rubbish bin, and when he entered back inside you, he couldn't help the loud moan that resonated from his mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he whined like he was in pain. "You feel so fucking good, damn it, I should've fucked you raw like this from that start, fuck."

It didn't take long for either of you to get to that peak you were both chasing since the beginning. Your stomach tightened, your walls were beginning to constrict and flutter against Hongjoong's cock, and he felt it. Fuck, did he feel it.

"One. Come with me, baby, please," he pumped faster and harder until you couldn't take it anymore.

It triggered that delicious feeling that you've been suppressing all this time. It was slow, but when you reached it, the world around you exploded. Your own screams were all you heard, not even Hongjoong's loud growl as he erupted his thick release deep inside you.

"Y/N, fuck," he panted, thrusting a few more times until both of our orgasms had subsided. He grabbed your chin and squeezed hard as he demanded eye contact. "Look at me when you're coming, my love. Look at me."

It was over as soon as it started, but the sensation will last you for a while. You were thoroughly fucked - thoroughly used - and you liked it like that. But only because it was Hongjoong.

It felt right for him, there was nothing more in this moment that felt as right as letting go in you akin to an animal that just wanted to possess. One final pulsating from his cock has him reeling, and he wouldn't tell you just yet, but he was definitely more blown out than you were.

He pushed your hair out of your face and looked at you. "You okay, love?" Hongjoong asked with a small frown, a worried one. "I think that was the roughest we've done it so far---ah fuck, I came too much."

Your soft moan hits Hongjoong's ears as he pulls out. Thick, sticky cum immediately oozes out from your stretched out pussy and Hongjoong could feel himself salivating at the tempting scene in front of him.

You giggled as you stared at him, and even though he literally just rocked your world, you gave him a wide smile despite the haze. "Like what you see?"

Hongjoong nodded wordlessly and you couldn't help but lightly smack him back into coherence. "What? I do," he defended himself with a small pout. "You look so good covered in my cum, sweetie."

You bit your lips when he dipped a finger in your pussy, covering them in his own release, and started writing something on your stomach as if your skin was the canvas and his cum was the paint.

You soon realized that he was writing his own name. When he ran out of 'writing material,' he would dip back in for some more. Redness coated your entire neck and creeped up all the to your scalp.

"Mine," he murmured, kissing the dried up cum on your tummy that had his name. "Property of Kim Hongjoong."

He sits straighter and beckons you to do the same. You did as told without missing and beat. He grabbed your hand and gave it a small kiss before he grabbed his dress shirt and put you in it, careful when he started looping your arms on the sleeves and buttoning it until you were completely covered, your torso, at least.

He pulled you close until you were sitting on his lap, your head plush onto his chest. Aftercare with your boyfriend was always better than the sex, itself, every single time. "Thanks, Joongie," you smiled.

"Did you have fun? Was it everything you wanted?" Hongjoong asked sheepishly. "I didn't know if I was too mean or something."

"No, no, it was good," you hummed softly as his fingers played with your hair. "I suppose we need to talk."

There were a lot of things you wanted to talk about, starting from this whole ordeal. Hongjoong and you had never really explored the idea of sex outside the bedroom, much less the idea of incorporating roleplaying in it to spice things up.

Hongjoong could say the same thing. He didn't mean for it to go that far. He saw the way you twitched when you entered the room for the first time, and he couldn't help the surprise that flickered in his eyes.

You stared at your underwear, one that Hongjoong had actually gifted you a while back, that lay next to the thongs you wanted to take home. You were about to say something, when the door jiggled, signifying that someone was trying to open it.

Hongjoong tightened his hold on your waist as the sound of keys jingling the doorknob. He held your head down until it was completely leaning on his chest as he parted your hair to cover the rest of your face.

"Hey, boss, I got the package secured---oh? Am I interrupting something?"

Even though your face was obscured, you could still see through them. A man not much taller than Hongjoong close the door behind him. He had this briefcase with him, but that's not what scared you.

"Wipe the fucking blood off your face, Woo. It's very unsightly," Hongjoong ordered, his hand massaging your tense shoulders. "You're scaring her. And stop eyeing her legs before I shoot you between the eyes."

Wooyoung's features twisted in amusement before it morphed into realization. "Ah, that's her," he chuckled, lifting a briefcase into the air, one you didn't notice he had. "Well, anywho, I'll leave this here, then."

He places the said briefcase on the floor near Hongjoong's feet before he sauntered out from where he entered from. "And tell her everything before you pussy out again," Wooyoung chuckled, holding the door.

"Get the fuck out," Hongjoong deadpanned.

The door finally closes as a cackling laughter sounded from behind it. You finally lifted your head up and gave him a very curious look. "What's in the briefcase, Joong? W-What are you doing?"

You had so many questions and it just further confused you the more you spent time here. Hongjoong stared at you for a moment before he got you off his lap to grab the briefcase.

"Weapons," he murmured, snapping the lock open before lifting it to reveal, indeed, weapons of various kinds and sizes. You weren't privy to what they were, after all, you needed to use these to protect yourself from Yunho and your father's political enemies.

"And you're smart, sweetie, I think you can gather what's happening," he continued. He held your hand tightly in his, eyes filled with worry. "I didn't want you to find out this way, honey. I was going to tell you."

Indeed, he was right. Wooyoung calling him boss, the blood on said man's face, a briefcase full of weapons - they were all telltale signs of mafia activity.

You didn’t want further details, but you couldn’t help but ask. “A-Are those things you handle on a daily basis?”

Hongjoong hesitated before he took a deep breath. “No,” he shook his head. “We do the usual drugs route as well. Listen, my sweet love, I-I’m sorry I never told you. I just want to have to excuse my absence a lot, and I know that’s shitty, so I’m sorry again.”

It all made sense. You genuinely loved him, but there were times where you were curious about him. There were many things he never told you, many times that he'd never tell you where he'd been. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders at the revelation.

"There's a lot of things I don't know, Joongie," you sighed. "I didn't even know my own boyfriend owned a mall, first of all."

His hold on your hand tightened. "A-Are you mad?"

You looked at him in confusion. "No, I'm not," you said, lifting your hands to kiss them. He visibly relaxes in your touch. "I was just wondering why you, my boyfriend of almost a year now, never told me, that's all."

"The same reason why you gave me a fake last name and never told me that you were the mayor's daughter," he shrugged.

It made a lot of sense, but you weren't even mad at him to begin with, and you wanted him to know that. "About that," you chuckled sheepishly. "How did you even know about that? And since when? Mingi did a fantastic job covering my tracks."

"He did. If he weren't your father's son, I'd actually recruit him," he laughed. "And I found out by accident."

You urged him to go on. "I was going to give you this mall as a surprise, actually," he murmured. "I had Jongho look up if you had assets that would clash with the ownership, and I guess that's how."

You couldn't hold back your surprise. "You were going to do that for me?"

"Yeah, I was," he said. He paused, gathering the words he needed to say to you. "So you'd stop shoplifting."

You paled, fumbling for an excuse to tell him because as good as this all ended, it was still embarrassing for Hongjoong to actually find out this way. "I-I can explain."

"No need," he chuckled, kissing you on the forehead. "I already knew. Why do you think you've never been arrested? Your charm can only go so far, sweetheart. And your stealth is questionable."

You lightly smacked him on the chest and he took this opportunity to grab you and wrap his arms around you. "I've been bribing people for months now, for you," he mumbled. "But you need therapy, sweetie. I can't cover your ass the entire time, and I don't ever want to see you behind bars."

"I-I know, Joong," you murmured in embarrassment and pure shame. You didn't think he'd found out, and now that he does, you were so ashamed of your own skin. A question sticks out in your head. "D-Did you plan today?"

"No," he denied. "I wasn't supposed to be here. Seonghwa decided to oversee that deal we had that involved this," he tapped the briefcase. "So I stayed. Imagine my surprise when I saw you targeted my mall."

"I see," you muttered under your breath. Still, your curiosity wasn't satiated. "But why a mall, though? You're literally head mafia, you could have everything you want."

He chuckled at your question. "Because," he grabbed something from the nearby table, a small remote, then pointed it at the wall behind his office desk. "Nobody would ever suspect a mall to be another hideout."

A small 'click' could be heard and your mouth dropped when a hidden door revealed itself across you. "Holy shit, Kim Hongjoong, you're so fucking hot for this," you said without thinking. He laughed out loud at your statement. "But knowing all this, do you still want to be with me?"

Hongjoong's brows furrowed, distress clear on his face. "Of course, I do," he confirmed, voice laced with confusion. "Why?"

"Because I'm the mayor's daughter," you frowned, sighing deeply. "My dad's literally your enemy."

His face lit up in recognition with the thought and you thought that was going to mull over it, but then he leaned in and pulled you into a tender hug. "We'll figure it out, love, don't worry," was all he said before his hand smooths out the back of your hair gently. "I've known for a while, and I'm still here."

"I suppose so," you hugged back. "And for the record, I'm not mad. Not at all, so don't worry. I just want to go home right now, I'm tired."

"About that therapy," he said, still hugging you like he won't ever hug you again. It was endearing. "We have a resident doctor, Dr. Kang Yeosang. I trust him and he's a good friend of mine, would you like to consult him?"

"Do you think that would help?"

"Yes. But it's up to you, love. I can't force you if you don't want to, but I would feel better if you did. Promise me you won't do it again?"

"I promise," you said truthfully. You did need to change, after all, this wasn't morally good to begin with.

"Thank you, my love," he murmured. "So you'll do it?"

"I'll do it," you agreed, pulling away to look at him. "I'll do it for you."

He smiled, gently cupping your face. He had a thing for doing that. "Good girl," he whispered. "But do it for you, not for me. I'd still love you even if you robbed a whole damn store. After all, you already stole my heart."

"My God, Joong, that was so dry," you giggled loudly. "I'm going to get dressed so we can go now, okay? I really need to shower."

He smirked, burying his face on your neck. "You know I meant what I said earlier."

You were confused. "What?"

He licked a stripe up your neck and it sent shivers through you. "That I want to fuck you some more after we were done here, my sweet girl. We have all night..."

You were already imagining all the things you and him would do the entire day, maybe you'd give him something in return after today.

It definitely wasn't what a sweet, good girl would do.

Dividers from: @cafekitsune ❤️❤️❤️

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reignpage · 2 days ago

Note

hello

what's your process of writing smau's? like the idea and how do you decide to implement it and everything?

thanks in advance and pookie don't forget to rest

Saw this a while back and finally have time to answer

I've already touched on this in my recent Announcement

Here is my start to finish process:

I have a list in my notes app of story ideas divided by smau and fic

and within smaus, they're further divided by angst/smut/fluff

Many are popular plots like

Clingy? (they call you clingy)

Birthday Girl (forget your birthday)

And the others are things I've just thought of for example:

A New Friend (or more popularly known as 'Keiko')

Tell Your Friends About Me

When it comes to making a smau, I first have to ask myself what kind I wanna make

To make a oneshot, my process is:

Start with Gojo (I always go in order of their appearance, it's just easier to transfer the screenshots from my phone to my laptop and organise them when they're already in order)

Change the contacts (his picture and name)

And text myself my initial thoughts

Most of the time I never plan what I'm going to say, like the plot for each character or the exact wording, it just comes to me naturally. But there are times when I have to trial and error what feels best. Regardless, there's a lot of deleting happening. Which is why I prefer the single page layout because then if I have to start over because of a mistake or typo, I don't have to recreate as many lines. It's less tedious.

To make a series, I like to generally follow a 4 part stage:

Problem

Confrontation

Explanation/Grovelling

Resolution

Which is why I was actually surprised a couple people thought I was excessively making parts, because looking through my masterlist, that just doesn't seem to be the case

Anyways

Each part and each character are like episodes of a telenovela in my head

That's why some people might think the conversations end suddenly and then people have to read back to understand the new part. I never thought that was a bad thing. In fact, it was actually quite intentional. These messages are dramatic like Vampire Diaries or Greys Anatomy and not realistic because realism is boring.

The children yearn for escapism!

Sometimes there's even minor time jumps between parts where reader has avoided the men for a couple days for example. Each character's plot plays out in my head like a show is the best explanation I can provide.

It's the same for the Modern au!smaus

Some people didn't get the Modern au!Nanami ones because they couldn't tell when a text is a pre-relationship text or when a text is during their relationship

First 3 texts are pre and the last half are established relationship texts Some texts are a continuation of a story, others are a snapshot of a moment in their lives

So it might not make sense immediately and that's because it's not supposed to be linear

It's like an episode!

Think of the Modern au!Nanami one titled 'Newton's first law'

First text is a snapshot of their first every conversation From reader's perspective, it's their first time meeting So in the beginning of an episode, it'd be like a flashback Then the episode picks up where we left off from the pre-relationship timeline, when Nanami got fed up because of the drunk party stunt reader pulled, and reader apologises and begs for another chance. The third pre-relationship pic is still following that event in the episode, but is a couple weeks into the future, where reader has kept her promise and been distant, which Nanami picks up on. THEN the three next pictures are in the present time, during their relationship, and we see they're having an issue, they even go on a break. But the episode ends with them reconciling and it all connects back to the first pic (the snapshot of their first conversation) with a reference to a text reader sent nanami

See my vision?

It might not be executed perfectly, but I hope you guys can at least see where I'm coming from.

If you've made it this far, you're a champ

Once I've reached the final character

Either Sukuna (or Shiu) in my 18+ works or Toge

I crop the pictures and I create a post on Tumblr using my laptop

I colour the title using a website

Paste it on the post

Get my template:

Smau: in which they/you..... Warnings: ..... Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna/ Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki

I copy and paste the tags from my notes app (I do not type them out one by one anymore it's tedious work) and just edit out the inappropriate tags like if it's not smut, I'll take out every 'jjk character smut' tag etc.

And then transfer the pictures from my phone to my laptop, and then place the pics into Tumblr

I do final checks

Sometimes I forget to crop a picture or I didn't screenshot a character's conversation (I have to take a lap when this happens because that means I have to change out the contact pic and name and scroll up and go through the process ugh)

But if all looks good on my front, then I don't hesitate to click post!

Thanks for reading and hope that was informative!!!

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mixelation · 2 days ago

Note

Given your classification of Wicked, what is your favorite "fanfiction that society pretends is not fanfiction"?

hmm i thought this over for a bit and couldn't think of anything. i think my definition of "this is just a fanfic" is stricter than a lot of those posts joking about how, eg, dante's inferno is just bible fic. for my definition, a fanfic is:

not done with the explicit blessing of copyright holder. so things like tie-in novels, while often feeling like fanfiction, are not (EXCEPTION: if a creator has been like "ooooh hehehe i love fanfiction and i encourage it!!" that does NOT count as "explicit blessing"). if it's public domain and there's no one to give a blessing, it's still fanfic (e.g., Wicked itself)

i don't generally count things based on religion or mythology as fanfiction unless it's based really strongly on a very specific text. so i don't count dante's inferno or good omens or supernatural as "bible fanfiction" because while those stories draw from christian mythology, they use christian mythos beyond just the bible. nor would i count Percy Jackson as Greek mythology fanfic, but i guess i would consider counting the tiktok musical Epic as an Odyssey fanfic because it's based on a specific text. you're free to disagree with me on this; i am aware there are indeed "bible" and folklore categories on most fanfiction websites

i generally tend to lean towards only counting written works as fanfic, which might disqualify the Epic example above. but for the sake of this conversation, we'll let non-written media be fic

i'm on the fence about across-media adaptations as fanfic. translations and audiobooks are not fanfiction (but ARE transformative works). shot-for-shot remakes don't seem like they should be fanfics? i think for adaptations that make changes, i.e. wicked the book compared to wicked the musical, then i would count it as fanfic.... and i think i have to allow this even when very few changes or made, because some fics are literally just the exact same story but now sasuke is a girl. i'm currently working on a fic that's literally just a canon event from a different POV. sometimes a fanfic is just canon with one (1) change

so then for my favorite......... i'm not sure. my first thought was the zillions of takes on sherlock holmes that exist, but i can't say i'm particularly enamored with any of them (unless i've forgotten an old favorite?) Mean Girls might technically be fanfic of the book Queen Bees and Wannabes, which is the funniest answer

#mixed bag

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adioringhamzah · 2 days ago

Text

wrong address

hamzah × y/n fic (very little fluff)

when y/n is locked out of her friend's building, a friendly stranger helps her, and they might be going to the same place

you hadn't dated in a long time, actually you never even really had a boyfriend. a few talking stages at most but you wouldn't even call them that. you were starting to feel lonely, almost 21, but still nothing. thankfully, you could always count on your bestfriend mandy. you hadn't seen her in a while, she had moved out of her old apartment not long ago but you were both so busy that you hadn't found the time to meet up in her new home, until today!

you were walking towards the building where mandy lived, thinking about how jealous you were of her and her boyfriend's relationship. you knew it wasn't right, but you were almost annoyed by how perfect martin and her were, both so pretty, so funny, and most of all, so in love. you told her you didn't need any man, but deep down, it was all you craved.

you snapped from your thoughts when you finally arrived in front of the building. you tried to open the door, but you quickly realized that you needed a code. you called mandy, but there was absolutely no cell reception, and you started to worry. it was already getting dark, and mandy was supposed to drive you back, so you didn't really want to go home by yourself now. you waited a little, hoping someone would leave or enter the apartment, and thankfully, you saw a blinding light, from someone parking their car. the car's door opened, and you were shocked by what you saw.

the most beautiful man you had probably ever seen. he had dark curls, eyes so dark that they looked like boba and the cutest playboy carti cat sweatshirt. you were smiling to yourself when he came in front of you. he looked at you a little confused by how desperate you probably looked.

"do you want to get in orr?" "yes yes!" you basically screamed, "i've been waiting forever actually", he looked at you almost scared, like you were some psycho stalker waiting for him to come home so you quickly tried to lighten things up, "please dont think im a robber though, i just want to get to my friend's appartement but i forgot the code" you started rambling and he cut you short, looking you up and down with a shy smirk "dont worry you're too pretty to get mixed up with a robber", you started blushing and thanking him awkwardly, flattered but a little confused at a total stranger complimenting you.

you patiently waited for him to open the door but all he did was stare into your eyes, not that that bothered you, -you could look into his dark eyes all day- but you were starting to get a little cold. your denim mini skirt and brandy melville tank top really weren't doing anything to keep you warm.

he noticed you slightly shaking and finally opened up the door, letting you enter first. you then took the elevator, surprisingly both going to the same floor. he talked about having to go to a party but being late, and you thought to yourself that mandy was probably waiting for you at this very instant. the elevator dinged, and you got out first, making your way to mandy's door. you made sure it was the right one by looking at your texts and were about to ring the bell when the gorgeous man from before approached you, looking almost concerned for you. you started getting scared.

"what if he's some psycho who goes on murdering women??". by the look on his face you realized you said that part out loud and he started laughing, not really helping you relax. "girll dont even, this is literally my apartment." you looked at him, absolutely stunned, and started looking through your texts to show him the address, "is your friend's name hamzah?" he asked, amused.

you shook your head, not knowing whoever that was. "then you're not at the right door.. im hamzah!", you basically ignored his statement and showed him the messages, he agreed that this was indeed his address. "waitt is your friend mandy?? it's so like her to mess up her address", he said in a sarcastic obnoxious tone. "omg yes! how did you know?", he smirked, probably happy that he was right and not just making a fool out of himself, "she used to live here with martin, but they moved out not long ago, and now i'm the one renting it, she probably just got them mixed up, " he explained.

"ohhh, im genuinely so sorry, hamzah, i didn't want to seem like a stalker y'know" you chuckled awkwardly, and he laughed a little. you both stood still looking at each other awkwardly, not really knowing what to do now, thankfully he interrupted your thoughts "so anyway, you know my name, what's yours gorgeous?", you blushed, thinking that this was already the second time that this man that looked like a literal model was complimenting you, "it's y/n, and you're not so bad yourself", you both chuckled a little before realising you had been standing in front of the door for like 10 minutes.

hamzah invited you to come in, and you faked not wanting to, but after a little persuasion, you accepted. it was't like you to enter in a stranger's house but you already felt somehow close to him since you had mutual friends. he invited you in and told you to sit on his couch. his home was a big loft, there was a distinct cologne smell to the place that had a minimalistic but thoughtful look.

you sat next to him awkwardly, and you soon realized that you were both invited to mandy's and were both like 1h late already. you mutually agreed that you were already too late and sent her a text apologising. you talked some more, it was weird, he was a total stranger but you felt so close to him. you loved his bleu de chanel scent and the way he was so passionate about his work and his friends.

when you thought he couldn't get more perfect, you saw two ginger cats coming next to you. "hope u're not allergic! this is red and blue." he introduced them with a huge smile on his face. he lifted them both in his thick arms, and you took a moment to contemplate him, you were basically in awe of him, and he seemed to like you too.

it was getting late and you started yawning, "wow i didnt how I was this boring.." he rolled his eyes playfully, and you both laughed. meanwhile, red and blue had found sleep on your tights. you told hamzah you would like to go home and he quickly proposed to drive you, which you agreed to. he got up but you were still sitting a little awkwardly, not wanting to disturb the kittens. thankfully, hamzah took them both from your tights. you felt a sense of intimacy, his warm hands touching you while he was struggling to pick them up.

he felt it too and swiftly took you by the hips. you were a little surprised by his boldness but also very content and started playing with his hair, he approached you more and more, both of you being almost face to face.

you could feel the tension growing. he grabbed your face and looked you in the eyes as if he wanted to make sure he could kiss you.

you nodded, and he placed his soft lips on yours, while his hands were gently holding your face.

mwah💋

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bloodlinesceo · 3 days ago

Text

Abandoned II 🩸

Gif credit: @annoyedkayah2395 (this one's perfection 🔥)

Credit to Resident Evil Village game for the visuals & characters.

Link to I (if you haven't read it):

A/N: Apologies for the bit of delay in updating. School's been a pain in the ass so I'll try to do the best I can. I've also posted a YouTube video of House Beneviento so y'all can see what it looks like. Credit to the owner who made this (TW:// Be careful of potential jump scares) The rooms are luxurious instead for now & there's a bathroom upstairs.

‼️Again, this is Horror based. If scary situations make you feel uneasy or uncomfortable, this isn't for you then, keep scrolling. Unnecessary comments or reblogs will get blocked. Just saying, I don't tolerate BS. I have Trigger Warnings up for a reason. Minors DNI‼️

Also, I apologize that I haven't updated 'In The Shadows' for a while too on Wattpad. Currently dealing with writer's block too. If any of the girlies love Tonga Loa on here that fic is all about him if you're interested 🫶🏽

youtube

Pairing: Tama Tonga x Fem! Reader

Characters: Tama Tonga, Solo Sikoa, Jacob Fatu, Tonga Loa, mentions of The Usos & Donna & Angie Beneviento. (WWE x Resident Evil Village crossover).

Warnings ⚠️: 18+, swearing, dirty talk, heated, mentions of sex. Tama being clingy. (I've gotten requests to make it sm*tty but I really haven't been comfortable with writing that & I don't want to write something I'm bad at & let y'all down. But there is implied shower sm*t). Hickeys, touching, paranormal shit. Solo being sassy & in character. Mature themes. Character disappearance & abduction. NOT PROOFREAD! MINORS DNI!

Written for fictional purposes only & does not depict who they are in real life!

Word Count: 4.3k

Hope y'all enjoy! 💫

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The 5 of you walked down the path, you tightly held onto Tama still doubting this, but you all didn't have a choice.

"What if nobody's home?" whispered Loa. "Don't be silly, the lights are on" said Solo. You all climbed up the stairs carefully. Solo took a deep breath, knocked on the door and gave them time, no answer. He tried again "hello? Is anyone home? We need help, our car got stuck on the side of the road" he said. "We bring no harm!"

"Yeah sure, that will get them to answer the door quicker" said Tama sarcastically. You playfully slapped his chest, again he starts making his signature noises at you. "Yo! Stop with the gremlin noises, they're gonna think we're crackheads" whispered Jacob, making him stop. "Weirdo" you said, "but I'm your weirdo." Tama smirked. "Get a room" sighed Loa. "We will if we get in" smiled Tama. "Well it better be far away from where I'll sleep. I don't need to hear a recap of the night before" said Loa.

Still nobody answered the door. Jacob went towards the window on the side & peeked in. "Dude, don't be creepy why are you being a peeping Tom?" asked Loa. "I'm trying to see if someone's inside, maybe I can try to communicate with them through here. I don't see anyone, but the place looks sick!" admired Jacob.

"Yeah, that totally helps our situation" said Solo sarcastically. He knocked again. "Y'know what? F-ck it" he mumbled. He pushed the wooden doors attempting to open it & surprisingly the doors opened leaving everyone in shock. "Orrrr we could do that" said Jacob.

Solo slowly stepped inside, everyone following after. "Hello? Is anyone home?" he called out. "They would've opened the door if they were right?" asked Loa. Solo shot him a glare. "Sorry" apologized Loa. "It's okay, I'm just stressed with this whole thing" he said. Loa nodded in understanding.

"Okay, me, Loa & Jacob are going to look around the house & see if it's cool for us to stay here for the night & who sleeps where" said Solo. "And with who" whispered Tama smirking at you, knowing what he was indicating. "We're finally inside right?" you said, confusing Tama. You unzipped his coat from underneath & ran out "I'm free!" Tama groaned.

"Okay, let's not get too excited" said Solo. "We're gonna go check the place. Y/N, Tama, y'all check the ground floor. We'll head upstairs" said Solo. "You're gonna leave those two alone here? You better pray they behave & the owner of the house doesn't walk in on something" cringed Loa, causing Solo to facepalm himself. "Behave & stay on task, this ain't your house or the hotel room, ya nasties" said Solo pointing at you two. Both of you nodded. "I can behave" you said "your right hand man is the one who can't keep it in his pants. He's the real nasty" you smirked, making Tama cock his brow at you & chase after you "now I'll show you nasty!" he yelled.

"I can't believe he's the eldest out of all of us & gets to have fun while we suffer here alone" said Loa. "It's okay, tomorrow we'll all be free from this shit & go back home to our women & families" assured Solo, making the men smile. They all made their way upstairs to check the place you, & Tama stayed downstairs.

You walked around & observed the place, starting off with the kitchen & then making your way towards the living room. "Hmm nice & cozy place" you praised. You went down the hall & looked out the windows observing the nice view of the waterfall. You then went into the main area near the front door. After you & Tama fully checked the ground floor & tried to pry his hands off of you at times, you both found everything okay, and decided to go upstairs & check on the rest.

You were climbing the stairs when a huge portrait on the side of the wall caught your attention. You stopped by to observe it.

The girl was dressed in all black, had pale skin & had her hair tied back. She was beautiful but, you were wondering why she had this doll beside her who was adorably frightening. The doll looked like she could jump out of the frame at any moment. But this girl, you were wondering who she was. Was she the owner of the house?

Your thoughts were cut off when you felt two strong muscular arms wrap around your waist & a pair of lips on your neck. You knew who it was you tilted your neck to the side giving him more access, but not taking your eyes off the portrait. His kisses moved higher up your neck in search for your sweet spot. You were too invested into the photo.

"Tama?" you said. "Hmm?" his voice vibrated against your neck. "Look at this picture, does something seem odd about it?" you asked. His kisses stopped & he looked up, taking in the picture. "Yeah, call Chucky cause I think we found his bride" he joked. "Tama" you sighed. "What? That's one creepy ass looking doll!" he exclaimed. "I know, but this girl. I wonder why she has this doll next to her & who she is" you said out of curiosity.

"Donna Beneviento?" guessed Tama. You were surprised. "That's her name?" He nodded. "How did you-" he pointed to the bottom of the photo which illustrated their names Donna & Angie Beneviento. The doll's name must be Angie, and she must consider this doll close like a family member, you thought. "While Solo & Jacob were pulling open the gates, I saw the name House Beneviento written on the mailbox" said Tama. "She must be the owner of this house I'm guessing, but where is she? And why would she leave her place open like this?" you wondered. "Probably went on vacation to find Angie her lost husband when we could've brought Chucky straight to her" joked Tama. You rolled your eyes at him "that's not funny, Tama" you said making him pout. You continued to climb up the stairs leaving him there. "Y/NNNN, don't be like that" he whined following after you.

"Hey, y'all find anything interesting?" you said joining the 3 men in a room. "Yeah, there's only one bedroom here" said Solo. "Never thought upstairs would be less work for the 3 of us, maybe we should've sent you up here instead" said Loa. "Yeah, downstairs took almost forever for me & Tama" you said. "There's so much storage though like I see shit packed over there & shit packed downstairs too, are they moving out or renovating?" asked Jacob. You shrugged "I guess we'll have to ask Miss Beneviento that when we meet her" you said. "Beneviento?" asked Solo. "Yeah man, that's her name, Donna Beneviento. While y'all were playing tug of war with the gates, we saw her name written on the mailbox" said Tama. Solo looked surprised same with Loa & Jacob.

"Come on, I'll show you what she looks like" you said leading them towards the stairs. All 3 men looked at the picture & felt uneasy. "Uh uh, I don't like the looks of this" cringed Jacob "that's one creepy ass looking doll! I thought M3gan was bad!" "that's what I thought too!" said Tama. "They look friendly & welcoming" said Loa, sarcastically. "Creepy doll aside, I'd love to talk to this Donna chick, and ask how much mortgage does she pay to afford a house like this near the waterfall" wondered Solo. "Can y'all think of anyone but yourselves for a change?" you asked. "What? We need a place to get away! Especially from my brothers" said Solo "their hungry asses always show up at my place wanting to go to Waffle House, I'm sick and tired as hell of them" he sighed.

"Anyway, there's a double bed downstairs if y'all need a place to sleep. Just move the dolls around" you said. "Yeah, we saw dolls in the upstairs bedroom too. Why's this place packed with dolls? It screams cursed" cringed Loa. "Yeah, I kinda wanna leave now this place is scaring the f-ck out of me" said Jacob. "Will y'all grow up? It's just dolls, they ain't gonna do anything. Geez, we're pro wrestlers who come from a strong family so act like it" said Solo. "Anyway, Y/N, Tama,I guess y'all can take upstairs. Jacob & me will take the downstairs bed" confirmed Solo. "Hello? I'm here too!" Loa whined. "You can take the couch in the front area" said Solo. "Oh nice, another uncomfortable night for me. Just say you hate me & go" snapped Loa. "I don't hate you & it's just for tonight" assured Solo "then you can kiss it goodbye."

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You & Tama were upstairs. You came across a journal from Donna, you weren't sure if you wanted to read it, but you definitely wanted to know more about her. As you were reading you felt the bed dip & you see a shirtless Tama smirking & crawling to you. "Haven't you had enough?" you questioned mirroring his smirk.

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"Alright, you feeling comfortable Uce?" asked Solo while fluffing his pillow. "Yeah" said Jacob, "this place still gives me the chills though." he says laying down & putting his arms behind his head. "We'll be outta here at dawn" smiled Solo. "Yo Loa! How you holding up there?" he called out to the next room. "Uh, alright!" he answered. "I'll go check on him, goodnight" said Solo "night" nodded Jacob.

Solo walked into the front area & saw Loa trying to adjust himself on the sofa. "You good?" he asked. "Yeah, I'll try to make it through. Did you check your phone signal?" asked Loa. "Damn, I didn't think of that. Thanks for the reminder" said Solo. He whipped out his phone to check, "what the f-ck? My phone's dead! I swear it was fully charged when we left & I didn't use it much!" he said shocked. "Here, use mine" said Loa whipping his phone out. "Mine's dead too, the f-ck?" he yelled. "How's that possible? We finally get shelter & both of our phones die? Anyway, I'll ask Jacob for his charger. I left mine's at the hotel. Sleep well!" said Solo walking away. "I'll try to, I bet the lovebirds are having a slumber party up there so it'll be hard to sleep" sighed Loa. "Just ignore them! Put your head under your pillow!" said Solo.

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You both were in a heated make out session, before Tama started to move his head down to suck on your neck making you moan loud. "Shhhh" he whispered against your neck. "How can I?" you whispered, making him smirk evilly as he moved his hand up your dress. You stopped him "I'm going to take a shower" you said, making him look at you in shock. "What?! Didn't you shower at the arena?" he questioned. "How can I? Y'all were starving like bears. Jacob was craving Popeyes & wanted to get there before closing time" you rambled. "But I'm just getting started with you!" whined Tama. "I don't see how that's a perfect reason for me to stay here" you laughed "you're acting like a brat now. I need to set you straight" Tama started to get serious. "Well not right now, I'm gonna freshen up, we were stranded & we walked all the way here too through a swampy forest. Ergo, I need to shower!" you stated squirming away from beneath him & grabbing a towel. "Who the f-ck says ergo nowadays?" scoffed Tama.

You giggled walking down the hallway towards the bathroom, you spotted Loa downstairs trying to sleep. You couldn't help but find it adorable. "Sleeping well Snowloa White?" you teased from above. He looked up at you giving you a dirty look "y'all couldn't be any louder up there? Thank God we're in a deep forest or else the Hotel Manager would've been banging on the door by now" he said clearly agitated. "Your brother is the one who's horny on main" you defended. "But, I hear your voice the most" said Loa. "And your brother is the one who's causing it" you talked back. "Stop!" yelled Loa covering his ears. "What's going on?" called out Solo from the next room. "Nothing! Just Loa being a grump again." you said, Loa groaned. "Anyway, I'm going to have a shower, so you'll get your peace & quiet. Goodnight" you said. "Thank God, goodnight. I'm traveling on my own next time" he said. You rolled your eyes & went into the bathroom.

It looked very nice & cozy, you gotta give Donna props, she kept her place nice. You stepped into the bathroom closing the door behind you, checked around to be safe & turned the shower on. You got undressed & stepped inside. You felt the warm water consume you & you let out a sigh in content feeling the warmth on your skin. Something you definitely needed after almost freezing to death. You heard the bathroom door open breaking you out of your peaceful slumber & heard a rustle of clothes dropping onto the floor. The shower curtain opened & you let out a scream.

"TAMA WHAT THE F-CK?! CAN'T YOU KNOCK?!" you yelled as he stepped into the shower with you. "We've been living together for a year now & never gave a shit about those rules. Now you wanna apply them?" he asked raising a brow at you. "Why are you here?!" you asked. "Showering in an unknown place by yourself? Aren't you scared, woman? Plus, I walked all the way here & need one too. I know Miss Beneviento wouldn't want her water bill to go up, so let's save it" he whispered walking towards you. "No!" you said lightly pushing him away from you "Just because I want a peaceful shower doesn't mean I want a pleasurable one too" you scoffed. "I was gonna help you shower, and soap up your back. You don't have your brush here & I know how much you hate not getting your back, so I thought I'd help you out." offered Tama. You sighed "fine, but no funny business. I'll get yours too" you said making him grin.

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After you both washed up, you couldn't help but get lost into Tama after he helped you. Your hands lightly trailed up his abs feeling his skin, making him heavily breathe. You looked at him & got lost into his eyes as he got lost in yours. You thought you should just reward him at this point, and smashed your lips onto his, he immediately kissed back and pinned you against the wall pressing his wet body against yours.

You sighed in content feeling him. He lifted your legs up wrapping them around his waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, running your fingers through his curls, the kiss got deeper. He licked at your bottom lip & you let him in locking your tongue with his. "Mmm... see? I knew you'd give in. You're No Angel" he mumbled against your lips. "Shut up" you giggled into the kiss. Seconds later, he moved his lips down to your neck kissing & licking the skin there, you moved your head to the side giving him more access & feeling the hairs on his beard prickling your skin. He found your sweet spot making you moan, you felt him smile against your skin. He sucked and bit on that spot, giving you a hickey "Tamaaa" you moaned loudly. He pulled away grinning at his work & giving the bruise one last flick of his tongue. "I know, baby" he breathed. He then started going lower with his kisses. You bit your lip knowing what was coming.

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You both quietly exited the bathroom with your towels on. "Funny, how you said you wanted to save her water bill by getting us to shower together, but I think it only skyrocketed. She's gonna be hella pissed!" you whispered in worry. "Relax, I'm a rich man & I'll pay her bill as a thank you for letting us stay here" chuckled Tama. "Yeah, without her knowledge!" you whispered tip toeing.

"Your poor brother is definitely pissed off at us for ruining his sleep again!" you said. "Well it's safe to say, I didn't instigate it this time" teased Tama. You lightly slapped his chest, looking over the railing to check down on Loa, only to notice that he wasn't on the couch anymore. "Hey, where's your brother?" you asked Tama. He looked over your shoulder to see that his brother wasn't there. "Probably went to the downstairs bathroom or moved to another spot to sleep, you know he can't stand us ma chérie" he said shaking his head. "Come on, let's go to bed" he said pulling you away.

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Tama was asleep, next to you arm wrapped around your waist. For some reason, you couldn't sleep. You were hooked onto Donna's journal gaining more knowledge on her, she's a doll-maker which explains the dolls in her home. You learned about her struggles growing up, mentally & physically, her parents, tragedies she faced, Mother Miranda, her family, how she found Angie & her becoming a part of her life, and the dolls she made. You never realized how important Angie is to Donna, she was given to her by her father & she communicated through Angie. You felt bad for judging her earlier. Some parts really struck you, emotionally & because you are an empath too you felt for Donna.

You were deep into reading when all of a sudden you heard a loud crash coming from downstairs, making you jump. You quickly sat up and placed the book on the nightstand next to you. Tama woke up and quickly sat up beside you "what was that?" he asked. You shrugged. You both quickly rushed out of bed heading towards the stairs when you saw the lights were already on & Jacob & Solo were standing there.

"What happened?" you asked meeting them at the middle of the stairs. "Looks like the wind came in & knocked this portrait down" said Solo picking up the framed portrait of Donna & Angie up. You started to get chills. "But how?" asked Tama. "How did the wind even get in? This place is air tight shut." "Does it look like I live here to know?" sassed Solo. "Damn, you really are like your brothers" said Tama. Solo & Jacob both tried hanging the frame back up, meanwhile you noticed a missing member from the group.

"Hey guys, where's Loa?" you asked. The four of you looked at the couch where he was last seen. "I thought he went to the bathroom or moved towards you guys" assumed Tama. "He never came to us nor I heard anything aside from this frame falling" said Jacob. Jacob went to the living room where they slept to look for him. "Tonga?" he called out. "Loa!" you called out looking into the kitchen. Solo searched all around the front area where he slept "Tonga??? You here?" he called out. Tama looked down the hallway on the side "Toko???" he yelled out.

"Jacob?" you said. "What's up?" he responded, looking at you. "Remember how this place was packed with shitloads of dolls?" he nodded his head. "I don't see them anymore" you said shaking. He scrunched his eyebrows up & looked at the spots where he last remembered seeing them at, noticing "what the f-ck?" he said confused. "I swear, I saw two of those little brats here. There's no way in hell they could walk right?" he asked. You shook your head. "What in the Child's Play?!" he said shaking his head.

Solo & Tama joined you both in the living room. "Any luck?" you said, they both shook their heads. Tama started to get worried about his brother's absence. You went over to comfort him. Jacob whipped out his phone, still no signal but tried calling him hoping it reaches him. It didn't go through. "So you know how there were dolls packed everywhere? They're gone now" you informed Solo & Tama, making them raise their brows at you. Solo chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, "what?" "I'm serious Solo, look they're gone!" you pointed to the spot they were previously at . Solo laughed "sure! They went all Baby Alive & started developing magic powers walking away" he chuckled.

"You think my girl's a joke to you?!" defended Tama stepping towards him, clearly upset himself. You held him back "it's not worth it" you whispered in his ear. "I'm not saying she's a joke" said Solo, "I just think it's surreal that a doll would start-" he was cut off by a familiar scream. The four of you turned around & looked towards the direction it was coming from. It was coming from down the hall where Tama previously was. "That's him!" exclaimed Tama recognizing his brother's voice. The 4 of you ran to the direction it was coming from.

To be continued...🩸

A/N: It kinda stung writing Loa being the first to go missing 🤧 But, you'll find out why.

Reference to Donna's story & if you wanna learn more about her.

#tama tonga x reader #tama tonga x you #tama tonga fanfiction #wwe x reader #tama tonga x female reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe one shot #wwe fic #the bloodline #tama tonga #tonga loa #solo sikoa #jacob fatu #wwe x y/n #wwe imagine

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thecrazyreadersstuff · 21 hours ago

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oh my god, this was the first thing I read today and let's just say MY DAY HAS BEEN MADE!! It's so freaking adorable and fluffy and genuinely one of the best fics I've read in a while🥹😭

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.

Words: 14.4k

Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background lilyprongsfoot

Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much

It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.

It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.

His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.

On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”.

His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.

In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.

“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade.

He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.

“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.

“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.

“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.

Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.

His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.

You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.

There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.

So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.

And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?

Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.

“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.

“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”

“By knowing you first?”

“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.”

It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.

Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.

He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.

“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”

“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.

Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”

“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.

“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”

“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”

Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”

“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.

“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.

“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”

Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.

You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”

Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression.

“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.

James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.

“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.

Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you.

Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.

“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”

You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”

He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.

“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”

“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.

“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”

Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.”

“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”

You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”

“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.

“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot.

Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”

“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.

“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.

Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”

“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.

Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.

Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside.

You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.

“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”

You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.

“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.

“Something tells me you’ll survive.”

He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.

“Sleep well, dove.”

“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.

With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.

“Funny that,” James started.

Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”

“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.

“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”

“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”

“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.

“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.

“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.

“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.

“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’.

“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”

“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.

“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth.

The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.

“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.

“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.

As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.

Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight.

His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him.

Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.

Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.

After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.

As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.

There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.

It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.

For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.

She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.

He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.

His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.

With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.

Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.

The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.

With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.

The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.

The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.

At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.

When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.

He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.

Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.

Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?

You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.

“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.

Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.

You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.

Everything is right.

When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love.

“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.

The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.

Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.

He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.

It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.

Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.

Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.

Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.

He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming.

With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?

“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.

Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.

“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.

Another groan.

“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.

A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.

“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.

Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.

“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.

At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.

What does this mean?

Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.

And that when you kissed him–

Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.

He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.

Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.

Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.

Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.

It was going to be a long day.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.

“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.

Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”

For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.

He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.

“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.

“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.

He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”

The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.

Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?

With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.

Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.

“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”

Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.

“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.

You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.

“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”

The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared.

Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.

Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.

Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.

He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.

Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?

In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.

Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?

He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.

Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.

If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.

Or maybe it will be worse.

No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.

When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.

Be normal, be normal, be normal.

Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.

“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you.

This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.

“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.

“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.

“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”

At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”

You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”

This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.

We. We, we, we, we.

Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.

He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.

“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”

You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.

His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.

You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.

Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.

Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.

In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.

It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.

“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.

You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.

“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.

“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”

Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.

“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”

It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.

“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.

He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?

“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.

He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.

“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?”

An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.

What I want is you.

“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”

Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.

Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.

“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”

Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”

Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”

“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.

Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.”

Remus hated that he loved them.

“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”

Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.

“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”

“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”

All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.

Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.

“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.

If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.

Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”

Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”

James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”

“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.

“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles.

“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”

Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.

“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.

“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.

“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.

If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.

The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help.

As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.

Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.

What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.

It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.

You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.

Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.

It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.

Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.

It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner.

Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.

To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.

You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.

“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”

“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.

“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”

“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily.

“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.

“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”

Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”

Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth.

He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.

That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.

Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.

That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.

When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.

“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.

He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.

A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.

Fuck.

This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe.

You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.

Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.

You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.

“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.

“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.

Fuck, how could he not love you?

He loved you.

Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t.

With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.

He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.

Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.

“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”

Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.

Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.

Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.

He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.

Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.

“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”

Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”

“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.

All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.

In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.

His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.

Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”

You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.

Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him.

Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read.

You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.

“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”

Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.

“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.”

“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.

“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”

Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.

“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.

You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”

He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”

You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”

Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.

He cut you off with a kiss.

He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.

Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.

The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.

Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.

You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.

He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.

“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.

Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.

“Why are you sorry?”

The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”

He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.

You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.

“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.

“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”

He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.

“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”

You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”

His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.

“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.

“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”

It was now or never. “Yes.”

To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.

No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.

You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.

His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it.

You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.

When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”

He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.

You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?

“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.

“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”

You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”

Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”

“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.

“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”

“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.

There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?”

Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”

Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”

Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”

Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.

“About you or me?”

“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.

You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”

“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”

He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”

He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”

You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.

Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.

When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.

When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right.

Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.

“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.

You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”

The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.

It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.

Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now.

It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.

Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff

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