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hyckstarz · 2 months ago

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breaking the rival code | l.mk

pairing. rival!mark lee x afab reader

word count. 6.1k

genre. smut · enemies to lovers trope · humour

synopsis. Mark had a way of getting on your nerves, to the point you'd even considered shutting him up for good. However, your best friend eventually planted a seed in your head that fucking your rival, and breaking the unspoken code, would be enough to finally end the long-standing feud.

warnings. 18+ minors do not interact, fingering, use of pet name (baby), choking, oral (fem receiving), haechan as best friend and instigator

A/N. i had this buried in my drafts for months but it had me screaming into my own pillow whenever i read it so, it couldn't stay unpublished for long.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Mark Lee," she's fuming, as per usual. Eyebrows tightly knit and throwing daggers with her hard glare while Mark just laughs, "It's due next week, and you haven't even written up a plan?!"

Mark rolls his eyes, his glasses almost slipping down his nose, doodling absentmindedly in his notebook, "Relax, that's 168 hours of time to work on it, it's nothing."

She sinks back into her chair, crossing her arms in that arrogant way — as Mark would describe it, "Actually, it's less than 84 hours if you factor in sleep, other classes you have to go to, and fucking surviving. Mark, do you take anything seriously?"

Mark rubs his face in frustration, facing her, "It's the first year; none of this counts towards our grade," he goes back to doodling small Spider-Man caricatures but, as always, he can't resist having the last word, "And you're too serious, princess. Live a little."

Small things like that always set her off. She was aware of how she came across but, when it involved Mark, she only ever saw red. She somehow manages to calm herself down, realising they're in the campus library and already earning a few curious, judgemental stares.

"Mark...," she manages to whisper somewhat loudly, leaning in close enough for him to feel her minty breath against his skin, "Can we please get most of this done today? I'd very much like to be free of your presence."

Mark chuckled under his breath, his dark eyes slowly drifting over her subtle features, raising a brow in amusement — the weight of his gaze caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. Finally, he gave in and pulled out his laptop. He began clicking through their assignment brief and taking notes down, surprising even her, who started doing the same. As English literature students, it was a given that they had to read a stack of novels and articles, even for an assignment worth 0% towards their final grade.

Yet even small victories in their relationship were rare. It was a miracle that they were somehow able to work through the tasks efficiently, though that moment was short-lived before they were at each other’s throats, with Y/N starting it again.

"Mark, we're meant to critically analyse, not describe. Do you have any working brain cells in that thick head of yours?" Her fingers twitched, as if to hold herself back from clenching her fists and knocking some ounce of sense into him.

He rolls his eyes in response, jaw hardening as he scowled at her, clearly not in the mood for their usual back and forth, "We need to have a synopsis of the texts, I don't know how else you expect me to include all of the relevant info without having a short paragraph in there."

She simply looks at him in disbelief, shaking her head as if he'd just said the most absurd thing ever, "Mark... do you really think we can afford a whole paragraph just on a summary?"

He just chuckles in response, clearly uncaring. She leaned forward, her fingers digging into the desk and turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure. Mark’s casual smile only fuelled her irritation, but she lets out a heavy sigh, judgy eyes flicking across his face.

"You're like those pretty dumb blondes; the only thing you've got going for you are your looks, sorry to say," she sneers, going back to taking notes, but she internally curses at herself for admitting she found him at least objectively attractive.

Mark pauses, head snapping to her, his eyes flicking over her features, trying to decipher what she'd just said, or if he'd even heard her correctly under the hushed whispers of the library. He spins the pencil in his hand, eyes narrowing at her as a smug expression tugs on the corners of his lips, "You think I'm good looking? I'm flattered."

Y/N gives him an exasperated glance, snorting at his sudden change in demeanour and sitting up to look at him straight on, "I know you took me for a fool, but a blind one too? Damn," she said with a sarcastic lilt.

When Mark doesn't respond, just a cocky smirk widening — his gaze intense — she feels her heart rapidly beat against her chest and, as a way to hide the effect he has on her, she rolls her eyes for the nth time that hour, clearing her throat and focusing back on her task, "If you weren't so annoying, or if you learnt how to shut your mouth and do things correctly, you'd have a lot more going for you," she sends him a glare, "But you don't, so your looks only take you so far, and that's below average in my books."

He mocks in response, "Wow, you read? How surprising."

This time, she couldn't hold herself back. Mark did have a way with getting under her skin, so well in fact, that it led to them being asked to leave the library, only furthering their frustration and anger towards one another.

It wasn't always like this, either. When Mark had first met her, he was a shy, slightly awkward teenage boy and, the first impression she had of him, was cute. He was incredibly sweet and outgoing; it was easy for him to make friends and that meant they easily got close too. The only problem was, they were so alike in all the wrong ways. He was just too competitive and stubborn, always aiming for the top, and so was she. It was only natural that friends turned to rivals, competing with one another over everything. With that being an understatement.

From whom could get to the cafeteria the fastest, to who could submit their assignment the earliest and get the highest grade? It was competition, after competition. Most would get exhausted after the first two or three, but for them, it was thrilling, though they'd never admit that to one another.

"I can't believe your loudmouth got us kicked out of the library," his jaw hardened as he met her intense gaze, "Can't you sit still and take comments with some sort of, I don't know, strength? Because clearly, you're so sensitive over such simple, meaningless words," He slings his bag over his shoulder, already walking off.

Only further proving his point, she chases after him, tugging at his arm so that he wouldn't get away.

"You're the one who can't let things go either, always needing to have the last word, what are you, a child?" she crosses her arms and nods her head with a questioning brow, as if to say, 'go on'.

Mark just scoffs, about to walk off before turning around, his hands moving in frustration as he glares down at her, "You- you're such a pain in the ass, you know that? You really know how to drive me crazy."

He's panting, frustration evident. But it was the way he was looking at her that threw her completely off balance. His narrowed eyes flicked to her lips, brows furrowed as though he were etching her features into his long-term memory. She felt her heart drumming in her chest.

Before she could respond, a familiar yet equally as annoying mutual friend of theirs appears, snickering at the pair and their usual quarrelling, "Jeez, can't you two just fuck already?"

"Shut the fuck up, Haechan" they both say in unison, tearing their gaze away from one another with a scowl.

Haechan only snorts, glancing between the pair with an amused brow, "Clearly there's some sexual tension that I'm interrupting here, it would explain why you look at each other like that," He leans in-between them, as if to reveal the biggest secret in history, "I bet you two dream about each other too — in, you know, that kinda way."

Mark just stands there, mouth agape and in disbelief at the absurdity Haechan was spewing, looking between the two. Y/N just scoffed, grabbing the man by his bag and pulling him away without so much of a word. Haechan waved a chaste goodbye to Mark as he was being dragged off to God knows where.

Someone was going to die today, and it was definitely Haechan.

It was quiet. Way too quiet. The coffee shop was empty, hence for the low whispers of the baristas in the far corner, and a cheeky Haechan sitting before her, happily drinking his iced tea after telling his two closest friends that they should fuck each other. She groans, letting her head fall into the palm of her hands.

Usually, this coffee shop was a place where she could find peace and solitude. It was bright, with large windows that let light in all throughout the day, creating a florescent streak of amber and pink through the thin stickers attached to the panels. The colour schemes could easily brighten one's day as whites and pinks peppered along the walls.

The foliage brought life to what would otherwise seem like a cold, simple design, and the bakery added a subtle hint of beige, creating a natural environment. But the best thing about any coffee shop, was the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, and the sounds of the machine working, or even the quiet conversations. Though, sounds were non-existent today, except for her constant groaning, which started to bother her best friend.

"If you make one more frustrated sound, I'm leaving," he takes another sip of his cool drink, "Is it because of what I said earlier? Just know, I wasn't lying, that would definitely help you two."

She pulls her hands away, pursing her lips as she started twirling her straw, watching the milk mix with the coffee and caramel, "No, it's because I'm... I don't know, frustrated?"

Haechan glared incredulously, "Clearly."

"Not like that, I meant... I miss how Mark and I used to be, how we would laugh at silly jokes, or talk for hours without it having to turn into a competition, but now everything he says or does has a way of getting under my skin," She takes a sip of her drink, eyes twinkling at the taste, "He could just be sitting there, doing absolutely nothing, and I'd I just want to-"

"Want to what?" Haechan asks, ears perking up, waiting for a gotcha moment.

"Well, what I usually do." She shrugs, going back to her drink.

Haechan takes everything she says in, nodding his head slowly, "Anyway, it's sort of funny as Mark said the same kinda thing to me the other day...," Haechan takes a sip of his drink, whining when he finds it empty, "He said he missed the old you, or when you guys used to be friends."

She pauses, meeting her waiting friend’s gaze. Her brows furrow. Mark... missed how they used to be? But she doesn't say anything to Haechan, keeping her thoughts to herself.

The usual smug expression returns as he leans back in his chair, leg bouncing under the table out of habit as he crossed his arms behind his head, "Anyway, as I said, you need to get your frustrations out in other ways. You clearly have a thing for each other. The way you express it is a little... unconventional, but you're both immature, so I'm not surprised."

She simply looks at her friend in disbelief, lips parted as she gapes at him, to which Haechan only grins annoyingly at her. He also had a way with words, just like Mark, except he seemed to understand boundaries a lot better, and was chill enough to not want to fight back.

"What? Please tell me you two at least have moments of either flirting with each other or checking the other person out-"

"No." She scowls, shivering at the thought. Though, she couldn't help but remember the way he'd looked at her earlier, brushing off the thought, "It's hard enough to even look at him without wanting to strangle him."

"Okay, so you're into choking, got it." Haechan chuckles, nodding as if to make a mental note of it.

"No, I'm not into that! Whatever, look, I don't have a thing for him, so just drop it." She looks at him with a serious, intense gaze, as if to emphasise the fact she really didn't want to talk about this anymore.

Her friend only nods, putting his hands up in mock surrender, "Okay, just know Mark would definitely jump you if he had the chance — I mean, which guy would put up with your shit? No offence."

She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink in hopes it would be refreshing enough to block out her growing irritation, "Anyway, the sooner I get this assignment done, the sooner I can move on from this Mark topic."

She quickly pulls out her phone before Haechan could drop in another one of his grand ideas, finding Mark's contact and immediately sending him a text. She almost spat out her drink at how fast he had responded.

You: Let's just get this assignment done with. I don't feel like getting kicked out of yet another establishment, so just come over to mine tomorrow or something.

You: *sends her address*

Mark: Fun.

Mark: I'll be there around 4 if that works

You: 👍

She bit her nails anxiously, eyes glancing between the door and the clock on the wall - each tick of the hands signalled it was only getting closer to 4, which was when Mark said he would arrive.

That wasn't why she was anxiously boring holes into the clock, however. She could curse the heavens, the earth and the 12 Olympians, but instead, she chose to curse the lust demon himself, aka Haechan. She buried her head in her hands, tugging at the roots of her hair in frustration. She can't believe she dreamt of Mark last night for the first time and, it wasn't just any dream — which was the worst part. Why did her mind have to be so vivid and make Mark so incredibly sexy? She had no idea.

When a knock came from the door, she stood up a little too quickly, rushing to it and praying that Mark looked far from presentable than he had been in her dream. But he wasn't, of course. She'd never seen him in jeans before and the green hoodie was the cherry on top. She swallowed hard, peering up at him as he adjusted his glasses.

"Are you going to let me in?" He raised a brow, his dark eyes glancing over her features in suspicion, taking a quick, subtle glimpse at her plaid sweatpants and pink t-shirt that didn't do much to hide the outline of her bra. He swallowed hard, tonguing the inside of his cheek in annoyance yet, the only thing that swirled in his mind were thoughts of how fucking attractive she was without even trying.

His annoyed expression grounded her temporarily, falling back into her usual demeanour as she rolled her eyes and held the door open wider for him, "If I catch you slacking once, I'll kick your ass out of here."

Mark gives her a side eye, frowning before kicking his shoes off, "Are you trying to motivate me not to do the work?"

She laughs sarcastically, leading him to her room as she props herself on her bed, noticing Mark looking over her interior.

"I expected your place to be put together, but not drenched in pink," his gaze trailed over her shelf, taking note of the various photo frames and mini ornaments.

She chuckles under her breath, pulling out her laptop and notes, "What, too girly for me?"

He turns his gaze to her, a quiet silence envelops them for a moment, and she takes that time to admire him. She knew he was attractive — objectively — but never had she looked at him in that way. The kind of way that made her heart and mind race.

Mark finally straightens up with a shrug, sitting down on the edge of the bed and getting his things out as well.

It felt strange having Mark in her home. If it weren't for getting kicked out of the library, her apartment would have been the last place he would be at. Though, now seeing him sat almost politely at a respectable distance from her, typing away on his keyboard quietly, made it start to feel right somehow.

She opened their shared document, reading the notes he was typing up. Even though he tended to be a lazy ass — or a procrastinator, as he would call it — there was no doubt he had a way with words. When he really put his mind to something, he would always deliver quality work. At times, she'd look back on why they had turned rivals, or enemies, and then she'd see what a complete genius he was. Maybe it was always her. Maybe she was just jealous that, no matter how hard she worked, Mark would always be ten steps ahead.

"I wrote up all the notes," Mark's voice cut through her thoughts, "How far did you get?"

She turned back to her laptop, pursing her lips at the blank screen. When she took her time responding, Mark scrolled down the document to where her cursor was and sent her a deadpanned expression, "What did you say about slacking off...?"

She doesn't know whether to laugh or smack him, so she picks the secret third option and scowls, "I did more work than you yesterday."

"That's old news," he sighed, looking through their to-do list, "I thought you wanted to get this assignment done and dusted because... what was the reason again? Oh yeah, you wanted nothing to do with me."

She scoffs, sitting up as she points an accusatory finger at him, "Don't act like you don't feel the same way."

Mark clears out the already completed tasks on the list, colour coding the other bullet points to distribute the work evenly between them, "Oh I do, and I wonder why." He doesn't even spare her a glance.

"Go on."

"Maybe it's because you continuously bitch over every little thing, it's no wonder Haechan is the only friend you have and, it's probably because he's waiting for some kind of green light," Mark's bitter words reeked of jealousy as he spoke through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me?" She shrieks before she leans over the bed and grasps at his hoodie, his hand immediately grabbing her wrist, "That's too far, Mark, even for you."

He raised an unamused brow at her, fingers tightening on her wrists, yet she doesn't waver, "Maybe, but I'm sick of it. All you ever do is complain and treat me like some sort of idiot and, when I give you the same energy, I'm the problem."

His voice is tight, jaw hard as he doesn't break the eye-contact. She pulls him in closer, anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach, "What a joke, you're just as much of a problem as I am and, you know what? Maybe Haechan was right, maybe we need to fuck for us to finally pull our shit together."

The moment those words leave her lips, she regrets them. From up close, he was even more attractive that those words naturally came out. Mark's eyes widened comically and she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

His brows furrowed, "Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually suggesting that?" his voice carried a disbelieving tone despite his cheeks growing redder by the minute.

If it weren't for the dream she had last night, or that stupid green hoodie he was wearing right now, she would have laughed it off as a joke or even knocked him out in hopes he'd forget what nonsense she'd just spewed. However, all she could think about in that moment were his hands gripping at her plush thighs, spreading them apart as he lodged himself between her legs, his soft lips parting against hers desperately. She swallowed hard.

"Yes, I am suggesting that," she doubles down, the words more confident now. She knew she wanted him, even if he drove her bat-shit crazy. Even if he'd think she's bat-shit crazy.

It was almost laughable how wide Mark's eyes had gotten, his lips parted in shock, "you're fucking serious, Y/N?" This was too cruel of a joke from someone like Y/N. He knew she would rather curse him out than make absurd suggestions such as sleeping with each other. And the more he thought about it, on top of the intense gaze she carried, the more he believed she was being serious.

She leaned in, her warm breath fanning against his skin. She could smell his musky cologne — it was a scent she felt she could easily get addicted to, "I am serious, Mark," her big, doe eyes peered up at him through her lashes, "Hell, I even dreamt of you last night thanks to that blabby-mouthed Haechan."

Mark suddenly grows flustered, averting his gaze. She dreamt of him? His words practically came out like a croak from the nerves, "H-hey, that's a little..."

She raised a brow, waiting for him to continue his sentence yet he'd only grown quiet, his jaw clenched as he processed the situation. He felt his throat go dry and, the way she was staring at him made him feel breathless - a little too out in the open under her gaze. It was taking everything in him to hold back, but their shared history and his growing annoyance towards her kept him stuck in place.

"What? Mark, don't be a pussy," she scoffed. Despite her harsh words, they had rolled off of her tongue like honey, "Do you want this or not?"

Mark's head whips to her, his brows furrowed, "I am not...," the words faltered on his tongue as his hands came to rest behind her on the bed, his nose brushing against hers. He was way bigger than her, his arms caging her in, looming over her, "I'm not as much of a loser as you think I am, Y/N," the words were bitter; however, he felt like he was falling too deep.

Being this close to her, with her wide, surprised eyes staring back at him, her flowery perfume more prominent at the proximity, and her warm breath... He couldn't find it in him to deny it anymore, "Fuck, I do want this," he muttered, the whispered confession slipping past his lips before he himself could process the words.

At that, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing his nose fully against hers, "I want this too." Her soft words drew him in like a moth to a flame and it felt like the string that held onto his sanity had snapped.

Mark pressed his lips to her glossy, pink ones that tasted like cherry, breathing in her flowery scent, to which she parted her lips against his in response. His hands gripped at the soft flesh of her waist, pulling her in impossibly close. He tasted minty, mixing with his musky cologne and it was like she couldn't think straight anymore, losing her grip on reality and, instead, losing herself in him. In Mark. Her supposed enemy and rival.

It didn't take long for her to pull him on top of her, her back falling against the mattress whilst her leg rode up his side, hooking over his hips. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, nipping at her skin and down the valley of her clothed breasts. She was going insane, and it was his fault, "Mark, take off my damn shirt already," she groaned in frustration, sitting up.

He didn't waste any time. Stripping off her shirt, he subtly admired her plush breasts which sat pretty in her lilac laced bra, barely leaving anything up to his imagination. As much as she got on his nerves, he couldn't deny the effect she had on him by being effortlessly gorgeous even as her brows were tightly knit. He pushed her back down onto the bed, planting his hands on either side of her head, "Are you always this demanding?"

"Only with you," she mutters, tugging at his hoodie impatiently, to which he chuckles, taking it off. She couldn’t help but gawk at him, sending him a glare for being more attractive than her dreams could ever do justice.

He kisses her again, his hand trailing down the side of her breasts, not giving her time to run her mouth. Then, his hand pulls the bra down, letting her breasts slip out as he cupped and kneaded the soft mounds, groaning into her mouth at how they fit perfectly in his hand. He rolled the nub between his fingers, grazing his thumb over them.

Mark kisses down her body, taking a nipple into his mouth — biting and tugging at it as his hand continued to twist the other between his thumb and index. He relished in the soft sounds that escaped her lips and the way she tugged at the locks of his hair.

He continued to move down her body, his finger hooking under the waistband of her sweatpants as he met her gaze, "I know you beat my ass over this, but you sure this is what you want?"

She deadpanned at him, "You just made out with my breasts, Mark. If I didn't want this, I would have stopped you there."

Mark just rolls his eyes in response, slipping her sweatpants down, "Could have just said yes."

She's about to retort when she feels his hand cup her, finger tracing the clothed slit of her pussy and she has to bite her lip to stop her from making a sound. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction so soon. Didn't want him to know just how badly she wanted him — more than she'd like to admit.

However, Mark was as stubborn and competitive as she was, and he wouldn't hold back until she gave in. He pushes her underwear to the side, leaning in so that his warm breath fanned against her sensitive folds, causing her to whimper.

'Fuck,' she thought.

Mark, without warning, slowly licks a stripe up her slit, his flat tongue drawing out a shudder from her — back naturally arching. Each time, he'd go in for more, slowly bringing up the pace. Her thighs clamped around his head, holding him hostage until he groaned and grabbed onto her plush thighs, pinning them to the bed; fingers leaving marks along her soft skin. Her own fingers grabbed at anything they could, from the sheets beneath her, to the healthy lock of hair on his head, letting them knot around her digits and tug with every wave of pleasure he had given her.

She could feel his cocky smirk as he sucked on her clit, enjoying every moment of her falling apart on his mouth. Falling apart for him. When he pulls away from her, she let's out a frustrated whine to which Mark only laughs at, "Open your mouth."

She sends him a skeptical look, "Fuck no."

Mark's patience wears thin, "Don't be a stubborn brat now."

Surprisingly, she obliged and he pushes his fingers past her plush, kiss-swollen lips. Her mouth suckles on the digits, tongue swirling around them, and he retracts his fingers with a pop.

"Fuck, your mouth really does have uses other than spewing insults and demands," he teases, voice low, tracing her entrance which had her letting out shallow breaths.

"At least it has more use than your fingers-" her words cut short when he pushes his finger in, palm pressed to her clit as he looks up at her with a 'you sure about that?' look.

It doesn't take long for Mark to add a second finger, curling them in search for the spot that would make her see stars. And then, he finds it, and she let's out a sharp gasp which only grows louder when his lips wrap around her clit, continuing his earlier ministrations of lapping at her folds like a man starved.

Just as her dreams failed in visualising just how attractive her nemesis was, it had also failed in expressing how utterly, impossibly, and irritatingly good he was with his hands, lips, tongue-

"Mark, fuck-!" She starts to tense under him, eyes pierced shut as she chases that feeling of ecstasy.

"I believe I'm getting there...," Mark chuckles, the vibration of his voice fluttering against her.

And, just as she starts to see the twinkling behind her eyelids, the light at the end of the dark tunnel, and a glimpse of the heavens, Mark pulls away, leaving her empty, wanting, and embarrassingly needy.

Forget Haechan, Mark was the number one man on her hit list.

In a second, he's over her again, cupping the back of her neck and lifting her slightly up to kiss her. She can taste herself on his tongue, feel the way his lips apply just the right amount of pressure to say he's here, and it's so soft, so gentle, so wanting — it was the perfect contrast, the perfect contradiction to the image she'd created in her mind of him. His thumb brushes against her jaw, fingers tangling in her hair, before he pulls away, forehead resting on hers as he breaths against her.

His eyes flicker open to gaze down at her; warm and oh so inviting. It felt like the Mark she once knew. The genuine, loving and calming person. Though his next words threw her completely off balance, and she was quick to retract her claims.

"I'm going to fuck that sexy, infuriating attitude out of you, baby," he lets the pet name draw out. In every other context, with any other person, she would have cringed at that word, but it felt so undeniably attractive coming out of his lips, that she wanted to hear him say it more than once.

Mark got up off of the bed, pulling out his wallet to fish for a condom that had been in there for God knows how long, chucking it on the bed next to her and kicking off his jeans and boxers in record speed. She barely had a millisecond to admire the sheer length of him before he was on her again.

His deep brown eyes kept their hold on hers and she could see a subtle hint of affection; the space between his brows crinkling in focus as he slowly pushed into her. His calloused fingers pressed along her waist, leaving white marks along her curves, while she could feel every ridge, vein and pulse of his cock.

When he bottomed out, she immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in impossibly close. Needing him closer to her. She could feel the rough planes of his body pressed to her soft ones as he started to rock against her. He gripped her thigh, pushing it further up so he could angle himself better, remembering the spot that had her seeing stars earlier.

Each time he'd hit that spot, she'd clench naturally, rocking her hips to meet his that had him softly groaning by her ear. He smelt so good, felt so good, was so good. She felt her mind start to fog up, jaw slack from the loud, erotic sounds that forced its way out from her throat. It was too much in the best possible way.

That wasn't as far as Mark would go though, he wouldn't stop at just good. He wanted best. His hand snakes up her body, gently wrapping around her neck — thumb pressed to her jaw — as he applied enough pressure to her pulse point. She knew then that maybe she did actually enjoy being choked or, at least, enjoyed anything Mark did.

She throws her legs around his waist, pulling him down, desperate to feel more of him, to reach her release she craved, pride long forgotten, "Mark... Mark, fuck- please..."

Mark pressed a sweet, uncharacteristic kiss to her cheek, "Please what, baby?" he brushed the strands away from her forehead, never halting his movements.

"Need more of you...," She could barely get the words out, but Mark knew exactly what she meant. Without time for her to process, he flipped her onto her stomach, pressing her face against the pillows, fingers tangled in her silky hair as he snapped his hips into her with more strength.

She could have sworn she started hallucinating seeing stars in the room from how deep he was reaching in this new angle, hitting her spot with added ease. Her glossy lips stayed parted against the pillows, drool staining the cotton case as she let out soft grunts.

Mark's head rolled back at the filthy sounds of her and how fucked out she looked. It made him want to carve this scene into the deepest part of his memory, "You're doing so good for me... So pretty like this."

His soft voice did not match the roughness of his fucking, but it made her clench around him, "C-close..."

Mark hummed, grabbing locks of her hair and tugging it back so that she arches against him, "Be a good girl and come all over my cock, then."

She nods eagerly, reaching behind him to grab at his hips, urging him to go faster, harder. She chased that release as if seeking closure from her pent up frustrations at Mark and hers usual bickering and challenges. She sits up to lean against him, knees pressed to the mattress and head rested on his collarbone — his own arms wrapping around her body. Finally, she came, body shuddering in his hold and, at the feel of her convulsing around his length, Mark bit her neck, muffling his sweet sounds as he followed suit.

They stayed like that for a while, panting, hair sticking to their foreheads. She wouldn't be close to exaggerating by saying this was the best sex she'd ever had, but she would also blame that on the sheer tension they carried for years around one another.

When Mark slips out of her, she fully expects him to make some usual smart comment, but he only pulls her with him as he lay in her bed, keeping his arms around her, "Who knew we'd be so compatible?"

She snorts, "I can name at least one person," she thinks of her best friend, the whole reason this night even happened and speeding up the process between them.

Mark smiles, snuggling into her and letting out a soft sigh, feeling sleep catching up to him, "I hope this isn't just a one time thing, though," he says suddenly with a soft voice, "you don't know how long I wanted this for. Wanted you. It drove me insane trying to be... I guess, respectful and casual about it all."

She sat up, turning to look down at him with a playful look of disbelief, "I call bullshit, you weren't respectful about nothing. Not that I'm complaining, it's attractive seeing you annoyed."

Mark rolls his eyes, smirking at her, his cockiness returning, "I knew you found me more than just objectively attractive, you're down bad."

She easily admits it, "Yeah, I am. But you're in way deeper for asking Haechan for advice of all people."

Mark immediately sits up, his face pale from the shock despite his cheeks being flushed, "Dude- Wait, what?"

"We're on dude terms now after you fucked an outline of my body into this mattress?" she scoffs, her crude words making Mark increasingly more flustered than he already was, "The choking kinda gave it away. I just know Haechan threw that in conversation with you."

Mark laughed sheepishly, pulling her into his chest as he pressed a kiss to her temple, "Guilty as charged. Though, I'm proposing we get back at his arrogant ass by not telling him a thing. We'll slowly drop hints to mess with him a little — see how long it takes for him to catch on."

"I'm in," She giggles, feeling sleep overtake her as she nestled into Mark's chest.

Before today, neither of them would have imagined that fucking each others rival would be the secret to finally ending the long-standing feud and breaking the rival code.

#mark lee smut #mark x reader #mark imagine #mark lee #nct mark smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #idol au #kpop au #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan #mark smut #꒰ hyckstarz ꒱

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lxveuntold · 5 months ago

Text

happy ending, new beginning | hhj (m)

summary: when your friend gifts you an appointment for a massage, he fails to mention one critical detail. luckily, it turns out to be a pleasant surprise with a very happy ending.

pairing: hyunjin x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 8.3k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: profanity; mentions of the reader having a menstrual cycle; graphic sexual content; the “massage with a happy ending” trope; fingering; risky workplace sex; dirty talk; unprotected sex; pullout method

author’s note: i really cannot believe this is as many words as it is because there is seriously no plot here. i hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

The cozy parlor smells nice, like powder and fresh linens.

The receptionist at the counter smiles. “Hello, good morning. Checking in?”

You smile back and approach them. “Hi, yes. I’m supposed to have an appointment at ten o’clock?”

You give them your name. They tap a few things on their screen and nod.

“All right, you are all checked in. If you want to have a seat, Hyunjin will be with you shortly.”

No sooner have you taken a seat and crossed your legs than the glass door behind the receptionist’s counter opens. Out steps a tall, thin man dressed head to toe in white. Thin, white short-sleeved shirt, loose-fitting white cotton pants, shiny white designer shoes. His blond hair is buzzed short. His ears are decorated with multiple golden piercings. His eyes are a deep brown, and there is a distinctly feline quality to his gaze.

He’s beautiful.

Of course Minho booked you a massage with the most beautiful masseur ever.

The man smiles brightly and says your name as a question. His voice is soft and rather pleasant. A lovely voice to match a handsome face. Of course.

You stand and manage to smile back. “That’s me. Hi.”

He extends his hand and you shake it. His skin is warm. Soft, too.

“Hi, I’m Hyunjin, nice to meet you. Please, come on back.”

He holds the door open and ushers you ahead of him. His hand grazes the center of your back, and your heart flutters for some reason.

“We’ll be in the last room on the right,” he says.

You walk down the short hallway and turn through the last door on the right with Hyunjin right behind you.

In your mind, you pictured a sterile white room. Instead, the walls are painted a beautiful shade of green with paintings of flowers and landscapes displayed upon them. There is a long counter along one wall with a round porcelain sink in the middle. Near the sink are a multitude of candles and small bottles and vials. Rolled towels are stuffed in the shelves beneath the counter. In the center of the room is the massage table, longer than it is wide. A white sheet is fitted on top of it. The smell of powder and fresh linen is stronger back here.

Hyunjin steps around you, and you catch the scent of him when the air moves. He smells of something rich and slightly sweet, like dark chocolate. He pulls a fluffy white towel out from under the counter and sets it on the edge of the massage table. Then he looks to you and smiles again. The groove of a dimple appears in his cheek.

“I’m going to step out for a few minutes,” he says. “I want you to undress entirely, please. Bra, underwear, everything. We don’t want to stain any of your clothing with the oils. Then I want you to lie face down on the table with the towel over you like it’s a blanket, please.”

You nod along to his instructions. When he is finished, you say, “Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

He leaves and gently shuts the door behind him.

You undress and pile your clothing on a nearby chair, sliding your shoes underneath it. Then you pick up the towel and shake it open before climbing onto the padded massage table and lying face down under your makeshift blanket.

It takes several minutes, but eventually there is a knock on the door. Hyunjin calls your name and asks, “Are you decent?”

“Yes. Come in,” you say, turning your head to see him enter.

He steps inside and closes the door again. You lock eyes for a second, then he moves to the counter. Music begins playing. A slow, relaxing piano melody. You hadn’t even noticed the speaker there. He also lifts one of the candles, but before he lights it, he turns back to you and asks, “Is it all right if I dim the overhead lights and light a few of the candles? They’re not scented.”

“Oh,” you say. “Uh, sure.”

He gives you a crooked grin. He really is incredibly beautiful. “It’s all right to say no,” he says.

“No, no. That sounds fine. Just seems kind of… I don’t know. Intimate, I guess. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Hyunjin’s face changes. His grin falls and his eyebrows dip in what appears to be confusion. “Is that not what you requested? When you made the appointment, I mean?” he asks.

You fidget with the sheet, plucking at an imaginary loose thread. “I didn’t set it up myself, actually,” you explain. “My friend did. As a gift.”

Hyunjin’s shoulders drop. It seems like realization is hitting him.

“Ah,” he says, turning all the way from the counter to face you fully. “I’m sorry, this is my fault. I should have confirmed everything with you before I left the room.”

He steps over to a screen the size of an iPad mounted face-high on the wall by the door. He pulls something up on it and nods to himself. Then he looks back to you and explains, “Your friend booked you with me for the full deluxe package. That’s a two hour session which includes establishing relaxing ambiance—the candles, lighting, music, et cetera—the massage of course, use of any and as many essential oils as you wish, and a… a happy ending, if you’re familiar with the term.”

You nearly choke on the spit in your mouth. “O-Oh! Oh my god,” you stammer. “You mean…?”

“An orgasm, yes,” Hyunjin says. “To be clear. Which I should be and should have been from the start.”

Oh, you are going to fucking kill Minho when you see him. No wonder he had been so excited to give you this gift. He does like giving you things you would never buy for yourself, and this definitely fits into that category. Plus, the main reason he did this for you in the first place is because of the recent breakup you’ve gone through. ‘It’ll take your mind off it for a while.’ ‘You deserve to treat yourself.’

Full deluxe package, huh. That twisted fuck.

“No, you’re fine,” you tell Hyunjin, “it’s my friend who should have been clear from the start. Fucking prick.”

Hyunjin chuckles a little. “If you want to cancel, I totally understand. I’ll refund your friend.”

You chew on your lip in thought for a moment then ask, “You really offer that here?”

“Refunds?”

You laugh, loudly and genuinely. “No. You know what I mean.”

Hyunjin laughs too. “Yes, I get paid to massage people then make them come. Though not as many people book for that as you might think. You’d think they’d at least be curious, but I think they assume it’s a terrible joke. Anyway, I know this was a lot to spring on you. It’s all right to change your mind and decline. That goes for anything that happens in here this morning.”

You think for another moment. Another question comes to mind. “What if I had a partner?” you ask. “You wouldn’t offer this in that case, would you?”

Hyunjin consults the screen on the wall again, scrolling with the tip of his finger. He points to something and replies, “Your appointment form says you’re single, unless your friend lied about that.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “No, that’s correct. I was just curious.”

“Everything that happens here is private and confidential,” Hyunjin says, sort of dodging your original question at first, but then he adds, “but no. I wouldn’t offer this service to people in relationships. Unless they’ve lied on their appointment form, of course.”

“Huh. Well I guess that’s on them and not you then.”

Hyunjin gives a tight smile. “What other questions or concerns do you have?” he asks. He sounds patient and genuinely curious. You get the impression he is good at this. At his job.

“What if I was on my period?” you ask.

“We have tampons. Or if you wanted to put your underwear back on and wear a pad, we’d have to get you cleaned of all the oil first. I would also lay an extra towel beneath you.”

“So… you’d still do it?”

Hyunjin flashes an easier smile. “I would use gloves for sanitary purposes, but yes, I would. Are you on your period? Do I need to step out again or get you anything? Or would you prefer to reschedule?”

“No, no. I’m not. Just curious again.”

“These are good questions.” Again, he sounds genuine and kind.

Are you really willing to let this beautiful stranger give you an orgasm though? It wouldn’t be the first time, but this isn’t exactly a dating app hookup or picking someone up at the bar.

Still, if this is what his job entails and it is a totally normal occurrence for him, why not go along with it? What would it hurt?

You shake your head again. “I can’t think of anything else,” you say slowly. “And I… I’ll go with everything that was booked.”

“You sure? No hard feelings if you want to omit some things or reschedule or completely cancel. I promise.”

You swallow and nod. “I’m sure.”

Hyunjin flashes a brighter smile, bringing back the dimple in his cheek. You entertain the idea that he might actually be relieved by your answer, but surely that is not the case. This is work to him, and this is still a customer service type of job.

“All right. So, would you like me to dim the lights and light some candles?” he asks, easily picking up right where he left off.

“Sure. That would be nice.”

He does so quickly, lighting and placing the candles in various places around the room before dimming the overhead lights. You can still see him well enough to watch him move back to the counter and wash his hands at the sink. The faint light catches on the jewelry in his ears. After he dries his hands, he starts examining the bottles. He does not look at you when he speaks again.

“So, you’re booked for a full body massage. No pun intended,” he says, making you laugh. “But are there any specific areas you want me to focus on? And yes, you’re allowed to say something like your breasts or your glutes or your pelvis.”

Heat rises in your face. “No. Nowhere in particular,” you answer.

Hyunjin nods to himself and lifts a couple bottles. “Your form said no known allergies to any oils or lotions or skincare products in general. Is that correct?”

You sigh. “Yeah, that’s correct. Minho might be a prick but he knows me well.”

Hyunjin laughs again. You like that sound.

“All right, what about scent preferences? Dislikes?”

“Uh… what do you recommend? What’s your favorite?”

He looks at you. “Oh. Well, I like green tea and eucalyptus the most. Lavender is nice too, if you want to relax to the point of falling asleep, which a lot of people do. We also have rose oil, coconut, ginger, frankincense…”

“The green tea one sounds nice,” you decide.

“Good choice.”

Hyunjin sets both the bottles in his hands down and lifts another. He opens it and pours a healthy amount into his palm.

“These are all safe for even the most intimate areas,” he says, rubbing his hands together to warm and spread the oil, “but let me know if you feel any burning or unpleasantness at any time, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

He touches your arm that is closest to him. You automatically lift it because you think that will make his work easier, but he gently pushes it back down and says, “Just relax, please. No need to lift a finger. I’ll do all the work.”

Something in the way he says that has heat rushing south between your legs. How are you supposed to relax when you know what is waiting for you at the end? Maybe it would help if you didn’t stare at the handsome man touching your body the entire time, so you turn your face to fit it into the cutout in the table and mumble an apology to the floor.

“Don’t be sorry,” Hyunjin says, gliding a firm hand up your arm, coating it in the fragrant, pleasantly tingly oil. He starts making conversation by asking, “So what made your friend book this appointment for you? Work stress? Just for fun?”

It would be easy to answer with one of those choices, but he has been so kind, so you feel compelled to tell him the truth.

“I went through a… sort of a nasty breakup a few months ago. I’m getting over it, but I was pretty down about it for a while.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. And I’m sorry to bring it up.”

Hyunjin kneads downward from your bicep to your wrist, then slots his fingers between yours to hold your hand and roll your wrist in a gentle circle. Somehow, that gesture feels every bit as intimate as if he was already touching between your legs.

“You’re fine,” you say.

He lets go of your hand and goes back to your bicep, repeating his earlier motions until he reaches your hand again. He rubs at your fingers, either intentionally or unintentionally popping a few of your knuckles in the process.

“We don’t have to talk at all, by the way,” Hyunjin says. “You can tell me to be quiet.”

You smile at the floor. “No, I… I like conversation. Better than sitting here in silence, I think.”

“Well, your emotional and mental comfort are as important to me as your physical comfort,” he says. His hand moves to your upper back between your shoulders, skirting along the edge of the towel. “Is it all right if I pull the towel down a bit? Just to the middle of your back for now.”

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.”

He folds the towel back just as he said. The air is a little cool on your bare skin, but his warm hands are there to soothe that problem in no time. The oil feels pleasant as he smears it along your skin. The scent of green tea envelopes but does not overwhelm you. The song changes in the background to a different piano melody.

Hyunjin hums in thought as he prods your shoulders with his fingertips. “You have quite a bit of tension up here,” he says. “Do you sit at a desk all day for work?”

You nod against the table. “Yeah, actually. And I’ve been told my posture isn’t great.”

He chuckles. “I wasn’t going to lecture you or anything, I swear. I was just curious myself.”

A couple quiet minutes go by as he works the knots in your shoulders. You’re the one to speak up and carry on the conversation this time.

“So how did you get into this job?”

“Oh, a friend of a friend thought I’d be good at it. It sounded fun. I thought it would just be a temporary thing but then I was actually going to school for it, and then I was doing hundreds of hours of training and getting my whole license, so I guess this is my career now. I like it though. It’s interesting, you know. Unconventional. Can’t imagine doing something like sitting at a desk all day.”

You both laugh again. You did not realize your legs were tense, but you feel them relax as you sink just a little deeper into the cushioned table.

“I feel like it could make relationships awkward though,” you say, then immediately wish you hadn’t. That was probably too personal.

Hyunjin hums but does not pause his work for a second. He pushes his thumbs up and down along the upper part of your spine and says, “I went through a rough breakup a while ago myself because of my career. I told her it was just work and there are other jobs out there that involve touching people’s genitals, but that was a mistake. I mean, I know it’s not the same. There’s definitely a difference between what I do and what a cerologist does. I get that.”

“A cerologist?”

“Sorry. A wax specialist.”

“Ah. Right.”

He sighs heavily. “Anyway, I’ve been hesitant to get seriously involved with anyone since then.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you say, shifting your weight a little. “It is just a job though.”

“Easy for someone who’s not my girlfriend to say,” Hyunjin jokes. The laughter in the room is more awkward this time. “Sorry,” he says after. “That was weird. I’m sorry.”

It takes more strength than it should, but you turn your face to look at him. He meets your eyes. The candlelight behind him gives his form a glowing outline. Coupled with his white clothing and golden hair, he looks positively radiant.

“It’s all right,” you say. “For whatever it’s worth, I think you’re really good at your job, Hyunjin.”

There are dimples in both his cheeks when he smiles this time. “Thank you. That’s kind of you.”

You shrug. “It’s true.”

He holds eye contact with you for a few seconds longer before looking away. He inhales deeply and clears his throat. “Is it all right if I lower the towel again? Down to your lower back this time?”

“Trying to see my tattoo?” you tease.

He lets out that warm laugh. “If you have a tattoo anywhere on your body, I’ll probably see it, don’t worry. May I, though?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

He folds the towel further and sees nothing but naked skin. He laughs under his breath and turns back to the counter to pour more oil into his hands. It squelches when he rubs his hands together.

You wonder how much time has gone by already. He still has your lower back, your legs, then your entire front to do, you assume. And that’s before you even get to the grand finale.

When his hands smooth their way across the small of your back, your thoughts dissipate. Your breathing slows after a while, until a particularly good press of his fingers on your lower spine elicits a moan from you.

“Sorry, I—” you start, then promptly shut your mouth. You should not have acknowledged the sound at all. That made it a hundred times weirder.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Hyunjin says again. “That’s a good thing. It lets me know it feels good, which is important, obviously. And the walls are soundproof, so don’t worry about that.”

You let out a tiny breath of laughter. “It feels really good,” you say honestly.

“The pressure is okay then?”

“You could go a little, uh, harder, actually.”

“No problem.”

He starts using the heels of his palms to rub outward from your spine to your sides, all the way from your lower back up to your shoulder blades. The oil is very slick, but his hands never slip or fumble in their movements. He does this over and over, moving up and down from the center outward. Another quiet moan comes straight from your throat.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin whispers. His voice is so soft you’re not even sure if he meant for you to hear that or not. A crazy part of you wonders if he ever gets hard during these sessions, but you’re definitely not saying that out loud.

After a while of Hyunjin maintaining a steady rhythm, you start to feel boneless, especially when he steps around the table to give your other side the same attention. He is probably running on auto-pilot mode by now, but your heart skips a few beats when he does the same hand-holding move on your other hand. If he notices the change in your breathing, he does not comment on it.

Eventually, Hyunjin says, “I’m going to move on to your legs now, if that’s all right.”

You hum in understanding. Your throat feels a little dry. Hyunjin carefully peels the towel off your legs and folds it upward. Only your butt remains covered at this point.

His touch feels softer when he lays his hands on the back of the thigh closest to him. For a second, it feels like his thumbs swipe back and forth with no real intention behind the movement, but then his hands glide all the way down to your ankles with the same pressure he was using on your back.

“Is the pressure still okay?” he asks.

“Y-Yeah.” You swallow through the scratchiness in your throat. “Yeah, it’s good.”

“Good.”

He squeezes down your leg repeatedly, as if he is trying to push all the tension downward and out through your foot. He keeps you in that boneless state, expertly working your muscles. After a while, you stop feeling embarrassed about your soft moans.

“Are your feet ticklish, or may I move on to those?” he asks. It feels like you have been floating, so it takes you a moment to register his words.

“I mean, they’ve never been especially ticklish?” you say. “Have at it.”

Hyunjin tickles his fingertips against the sole of your foot and laughs with you when you jerk it away. You turn your head to look at him. There is a mischievous glint in his eyes. Or maybe it’s the candlelight.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself,” he says. Could he possibly be flirting with you?

You swallow again and say, “You better watch it, mister.”

His eyes glimmer when he nods. “I’ll behave, I promise. Permission to continue the professional way?”

“Granted,” you say, giving him a smile before turning your face back into the cutout.

He takes your foot in a firmer touch so as not to tickle you again, even accidentally. For some reason, this part of the massage feels the best yet. His fingers really know the exact ways to release the tension in your body. You knew he was good at his job.

He steps around the table again and switches to your other leg and foot. It seems like he is focusing longer on your inner thigh this time around. Your toes curl at the thought of his fingers moving just a little higher. Of course he notices.

“I know,” he says quietly. “Relax.”

Hyunjin’s touch lingers on your skin after he finishes with your other foot.

“Would you like me to do your glutes before we move on to your front?” he asks. His voice is not only low but also deeper now.

“Sure,” you say, your voice hardly more than a breath.

It takes a second before the towel lifts from your butt. Hyunjin sets it down on the back of your calves, out of his way. It takes another second before you feel his touch. He starts with your hips rather than going straight for your butt cheeks. He kneads them gently. It takes all your willpower to stay relaxed.

His thumbs eventually inch their way onto your butt while the rest of his fingers remain splayed over your hips. He presses his thumbs firmly up and outward over your cheeks. Soon he goes from using only his thumbs to using his entire hands. He easily draws more moans from you this way.

What you don’t expect to do is curse under your breath. A tiny but still audible: “Fuck.”

Hyunjin exhales hard. On one upward stroke, you could swear he gropes your flesh more than presses it, and you find you don’t mind that at all. You were wrong — this part feels the best so far.

You would have been more than happy for him to continue this part for hours, but you are reminded of the limited timeframe when he stops his movements.

He lifts the towel off your legs, but one of his hands is still resting on the small of your back when he asks, “Ready to flip over for me?”

As if you aren’t putty in his hands to mold as he pleases.

You start to turn over but you are still floating and boneless and your arms give out. Luckily your fall is all of an inch and does not hurt at all, but you are embarrassed by the fumble nonetheless.

Hyunjin curls an arm behind your back and says, “Here, lean against me. I’ll turn you over.”

“Sorry,” you say as you do as he asks. He is stronger than you expected him to be. He eases your body back into the center of the table like it’s nothing. The towel settles over you again from your collarbone to your toes. You pull your arms out from under it.

Hyunjin keeps his eyes on yours when you settle on your back. “Don’t be,” he says once again. He smiles that beautiful, dimpled smile. His fingers trail down your arm. “Still feeling good?” he asks.

You nod silently.

“Good. May I massage your chest?”

Only when he asks do you become aware of your hard nipples standing against the soft towel.

“Yes,” you say.

His eyes drop to your covered breasts. He peels the towel down, folding it down to your belly button. Then he turns to grab the bottle of oil again. He only adds a little more this time. He purses his lips as he reaches for your chest.

He starts just below your breasts and moves upward, cupping them gently—briefly—before pushing up further. The tips of his thumbs barely graze your nipples, but it’s enough to send a pulse of desire between your legs.

You hiss and bite your lip. You might have gotten comfortable with your moans, but now he can see your every facial expression, so it feels embarrassing again.

His hands lift away from your body and his eyes flick to your face in concern. “Did that hurt?” he asks.

“No, uh. The opposite actually.”

“Oh. Phew.” His face relaxes. “Do tell me if it does hurt though. I know this area can be very… tender.”

You nod and take a deep breath, exhaling it slowly.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin says gently. “Breathe. Relax. Enjoy my touch.”

You close your eyes. You don’t think you want to risk eye contact with him while he is doing this.

His hands return to your chest. He gently pushes your breasts up, then smooths over your collarbone, again and again. This part feels the most like fondling so far, but as he said, this can be a tender area, so he can’t exactly be as firm as with your back or your legs.

You sigh when his fingers ghost across your nipples again, lips parting ever so slightly. Hyunjin makes a soft noise as well. You crack an eyelid to look at him. He is focused on your chest with his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed again in concentration. He looks so handsome you can’t help but blink your eyes open the rest of the way.

He smooths his face over and smiles when he notices you watching him.

“How am I doing?” he asks. “Still feeling good?”

“You’re really good at this,” you say. You sound somewhat breathless, which surprises you because you haven’t even done anything to get that way.

“Thank you. May I move the towel down a bit?”

“Sure.”

He tugs it down below your belly button, still leaving your legs and crotch covered.

“Is your stomach ticklish at all?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

He does not pull the same flirty stunt with your stomach as he did with your feet. He simply goes straight back to work, running his hands gently down your sides and across your stomach. It feels more like rubbing than pushing or pressing, probably because of all your organs just below.

His fingers frequently brush the edge of the towel when they move downward. Sometimes they dip right below the towel and skim just above your pelvis, briefly at first, then lingering for longer and longer.

Your heart kicks up when you realize what is next. Is it that time already?

Hyunjin notices the change in your breathing. You lock eyes with him again.

“We don’t have to,” he says quietly. His lips hardly move. His eyes are molten chocolate.

He stops dipping his fingertips beneath the towel. It surprises you how much you wish he would continue. You think you’ll go crazy if he doesn’t continue. You have to be honest with him.

“I want to,” you say.

You expect him to move the towel away—or ask to move it away, as he’s been doing—but he merely pushes beneath it again, this time with his whole hand. The hand not beneath the towel curls gently around your shoulder at first, then behind your neck, as if he needs to hold you steady.

“Is this all right?” Hyunjin asks. He has not broken eye contact with you.

You are not sure if he is asking about the hand holding your neck or the one teasing along your inner thigh, but you are enjoying both of them, so you nod and say, “Yes.”

“It will never be too late to change your mind and tell me to stop, okay?” he says. His hand rubs against the crease where your crotch meets your leg. He holds you there too.

You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak clearly with words instead of moans.

“Try to relax,” he says. “Don’t undo all my hard work now.”

You giggle at his joke. He smiles down at you. His eyes still have not left yours.

“And tell me if the oil irritates you at all,” he reminds you.

With that, he cups your pussy whole. You both make a noise at the sensation. You can tell you were wet, even before the oil. He must feel it too, along with the heat of you radiating into his palm. You think you hear him swear under his breath, but he clears his throat immediately after and finally looks away from your face.

Hyunjin separates his fingers and drags them down each side of your slit, avoiding your clit and your hole. Your eyelashes flutter closed. Your legs twitch and one of your hands briefly balls into a fist on the table before you relax it again. You take a deep breath and exhale slowly through your mouth. Hyunjin lightly squeezes your neck.

“Very good,” he murmurs. His fingers slowly drag up the edges of your pussy, back down again. “Breathe. Relax. Let me do all the work.”

You lick your lips and keep your eyes closed, enjoying the steady rhythm he builds of gently rubbing you up and down, spreading the oil—and surely your own wetness—over your sensitive skin.

You nearly manage to relax again when the tip of his middle finger brushes the hood of your clit. Electricity forks throughout your entire body. Your eyelids scrunch tighter and your hips twitch against the table. Hyunjin does not say anything; he simply strums that fingertip over your clit every time his hand passes back and forth. His hand continues sweeping up and down a few more times before he rests it in place and uses that wicked fingertip to draw circles into your hardened clit.

“How’s the pressure?” he asks. His voice is low and deep again.

You let out a whimper before you can speak. “Good. S-So good, ah—”

“Should I go faster? Slower?”

“F-Faster, please.”

He does so immediately. Your hips buck an inch off the table at the rush of pleasure from the change of pace. Hyunjin chuckles under his breath, but again, he does not comment on your obvious lack of relaxation.

He does say your name, however, in that low, deep voice. “I want to make you feel so good,” he says.

You’re not sure if he says those words in that tone to all his clients, but you can’t follow that train of thought right now. A fresh wave of arousal takes you, shuddering through all the muscles he just massaged. The area beneath your backside feels wetter than before with the combination of oil and arousal beginning to pool there.

“Hyunjin,” you moan before you can stop yourself.

His breath catches in his throat. You look at him again and see his eyelids are heavy over his deep brown eyes. That glowing halo of candlelight is surrounding him again.

“Fuck,” he says, not loudly, but clearly this time. He bites his lip and skims his gaze down the length of your body before meeting your eyes again. “I swear I never say this to clients, but you are so fucking beautiful.”

You whimper again when his fingertip edges beneath the hood of your clit. When he shifts his weight, you notice the considerable tent in the front of his thin pants. You moan just from the sight of it. He notices that you have noticed his problem, but he does not remove either of his hands from your body to deal with it. Again, you wonder if this always happens, even if he does not call every client beautiful.

“Can I take the towel off you? Please?” he asks in a pleading tone.

You pull it off yourself and let it drop to the floor. Hyunjin immediately looks between your legs at your naked pussy in his hand and lets out a groan from so deep in his throat that you swear you have a tiny orgasm with the next flick of his finger.

He looks back to your face. His sharp cheeks are noticeably flushed. His sharp jawline flexes beneath his flawless skin.

“Tell me if I’m out of line,” he whispers.

You bend your knees and spread them apart, a clear invitation for him to keep going. He gets the message.

“Fuck, I’m going to make you come so hard,” he says. He adds his ring finger to the circles he is drawing on your sticky clit. It feels incredible, but you still feel horribly empty inside.

“Want your fingers in me, please,” you boldly murmur.

“Yeah? You want them inside you, beautiful?”

“Well, not just your fingers.”

You meant to keep that to yourself—you really did—but you must have said it out loud because Hyunjin sucks a breath through his teeth and stops drawing those maddening circles. His cock visibly bounces in his pants. You look up at his face. An almost pained expression crosses his sculpted features.

“I… can’t, I… I never…”

“Sorry,” you say, mortified, “forget I said that. I’m so sorry.”

“I want to,” Hyunjin says, quickly and earnestly. “Trust me, I really fucking want to. I just—my license… I can’t…”

You nod over and over. “I totally get it, I’m sorry. Please ignore me.”

The pained expression does not leave Hyunjin’s face. He bites his plump bottom lip again. His eyes drop in a straight line from your eyes to your mouth to your chest to your pussy and back up again. He dips his middle finger into your pussy, only up to his first knuckle. You automatically clench around it, trying to pull it deeper. It works. He slides his finger the rest of the way inside and curls it, drawing another moan from you. He adds his index finger and curls them both, then scissors them like he wants to work you open.

He breathes hard. He gives the back of your neck another tender squeeze then mutters, “Fuck it,” and moves that hand to the strings on the front of his pants to untie them.

Your heart races. You gasp when he pulls his dick out in front of you. The tip is rosy and thick. The wetness gathered at the slit looks delicious; your immediate thought is how badly you want to lick it up.

“This has to stay between us,” Hyunjin whispers, frantically tugging his pants down to his knees with one hand. His erection stands stiff in the open air.

“I know,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I swear.”

“Come here. Please…”

Hyunjin takes your hands and helps you scoot to the edge of the table in front of him. He stands between your legs and takes the back of your neck again, forehead propped against yours. You breathe hard and stare into his eyes until you notice movement below. You watch him take his cock in hand and guide the head right to your pussy. When he pushes inside, you both gasp over the tight, wet, smooth entry. He shoves his hips forward, easily bottoming out in one stroke.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders. Hyunjin stares at your face and tries to breathe calmly through his nose, but you are not making it easy for him with the way your warm pussy is repeatedly clenching around his throbbing dick.

“Tell me when I can—”

“Please.”

He starts rolling his hips into you. Gently at first, then with more desperation. Your head rocks back and you moan toward the ceiling at the rise of pleasure. He keeps his grip behind your neck, not letting you fall backward. His other hand has a firm hold of your ass cheek, keeping you steady against his frantic thrusts. His dick rubs against almost every sensitive part of you. You shift your hips a little; it’s enough to angle his tip into that perfect spot.

“Oh fuck, right there, right there,” you pant, bringing your head around to press it back to his forehead and look into his eyes again.

Hyunjin moans and holds you tighter, pounding that spot again and again and again.

You notice him staring at your lips, so you tilt your face and lean in. He meets you in a kiss far more gentle than expected for the way the table is creaking beneath you. He ends it too quickly for your liking, studies your face for a second, then he kisses you again, much deeper this time. As soon as you feel his tongue prod against your lips, you part them and let it swarm into your mouth. His tongue tastes of mint and sugar and he moans so prettily into your mouth. He’s perfect.

You voice your pleasure into the tender kisses. “Yes, yes, fuck, Hyunjin, yes—”

Hyunjin pulls away from the kisses with a low groan. He nearly pulls out of your pussy too, to your great dismay. His hips come to a shaky stop with just the tip of his cock left inside you.

“Sorry, I just need a minute,” he says, breathless and smiling sheepishly. “You’re so tight and you sound so hot and it’s… it’s been a while for me.”

“Take your time,” you say. You’re not sure how much time is left in your session, but you won’t complain if he wants to prolong something he shouldn’t be doing in the first place, and you certainly don’t mind being told how tight and hot you are.

Hyunjin’s fingers massage the back of your neck. He pulls you into another tender kiss. You clutch his shoulders, nails digging into his smooth skin, and feel his cockhead twitch inside you. He begins moving his hips again, but he only fucks you with his fat tip now. You whine and whimper because it isn’t enough.

“What about my ‘happy ending’?” you tease, pouting against his lips.

Hyunjin laughs and kisses you again, tongue briefly curling against yours, before answering, “I know, don’t worry. I’m still going to make you come so hard, especially now that it’ll be on my dick.”

He says that but he has the audacity to pull all the way out of you. Before you can protest, he takes your hands again.

“Here,” he says, tugging your hands. “Let’s turn you around.”

You slide off the table. He holds your waist in a strong arm to keep your oily feet from slipping on the floor.

Hyunjin turns you around and bends you over the massage table. He whips off his shirt and follows you, draping his warm body over yours. His wet cock throbs against your ass cheek.

“Is this all right?”

“It’s good, Hyunjin, please…”

He takes your hip in one hand and puts himself back inside you with the other. You moan at the stretch, the friction, the raw pleasure.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. Once he is secure enough inside you, he lets go of himself and runs that hand up the length of your spine. “I want to hear all your moans, pretty girl. Let me know how good it feels.”

When he bottoms out this time, he does not give you a moment to adjust; he builds up a relentless pace right away. It takes him a second to find the right angle in this position, but he eventually hits that spot inside you again that has you seeing stars. He hits it over and over, keeping you right there on the end of his pounding cock.

“Fuck—yes—Hyunjin, yes!”

“That’s it, baby, fuck, just like that. You’re so fucking hot, oh my god.”

The hand that is not holding you steady at the hip is making its way all over your body, the body he has had his hands on all morning. He holds the back of your neck again for a while, holding you down to take everything he gives you. He wraps it around your front, pawing back and forth between your heaving breasts, giving each of your nipples a few good pinches. He trails it down your stomach to stuff it between your legs where he finds your clit again. He pinches it the way he pinched your nipples, just to hear you squeal. Then he resumes drawing the circles that started this all.

Hyunjin gets you to come in only a few minutes with his talented fingers. He is like a man possessed, a man with something to prove with how quickly he unravels you.

“Hyunjin, fuck, I’m coming, I’m—” you gasp, though he surely feels it for himself.

He groans and folds himself over you, face pressed to your back, writhing and bucking with you through your orgasm. His hips do not stop bouncing against your backside. He keeps grinding his cock deep inside you, slamming his heavy balls against you. His fingers do not stop playing with your sensitive clit.

He eases the pressure of those fingers once the force of your orgasm wanes, but he never stops completely. His cock throbs hard between your silky, sensitive walls, but he manages to withhold his own orgasm.

“There we go—mmm, fuck—yeah, that’s it,” he says, his breath coming out in warm puffs against your slick, sweaty skin. “So fucking good. That’s just the first one, baby.”

You push yourself up onto your palms against the table, elbows wobbling just like your knees in the aftershocks of your intense climax. Hyunjin moves with you, leaning back to stand straight. He moves a hand against your collarbone to pull you into his chest. You turn your head. He is already there, ready to meet you in a kiss that leaves you even dizzier.

He already alluded to more, but now he asks, “Can you do another one for me, or are you satisfied?”

“You didn’t come yet, did you?” you ask in return.

He exhales a breath of laughter. “No. If you come again, I will. I won’t be able to hold out twice. But that’s not what I asked, pretty girl.”

“Then I’m not satisfied yet,” you say, grinning and kissing his smooth, pink cheek.

Hyunjin chuckles. “All right. Let me turn you back around then. I want to see your face when you come around me this time.”

He has to pull out again to sit you back on the table, which is tragic, but the sight of his veiny cock glistening in a layer of your juices is worth it. You reach for it, letting the weight of it simply rest in your palm for a second before taking proper hold of it in a loose fist. Hyunjin groans and wraps his hand around yours, guiding it up and down his length. The skin is smooth and velvety soft but stretched tight over his solid length and girth.

You only give him half a dozen guided strokes before he pries your hand away.

“I bet you’re pretty good with your hands too, huh baby,” he says, caging you in his arms by planting his hands beside you on the table. “I wish we had more time for you to demonstrate.”

You nearly forgot about the time constraint. You nod and spread your legs. Hyunjin grabs you under one of your knees to help hold you open and also tug you closer to him. He takes his cock and smacks the tip against your clit a few times, still taking the time to rile you up just a little more before sinking back inside you.

“God, this pussy,” he grunts. The grip he has under your knee tightens. His other hand returns to your ass, practically yanking you the rest of the way onto his cock. “It wraps around me perfectly.”

He fucks you again, deep and hard. The table starts creaking again. You hold each other close as he works you both to your highs. He has his face in your neck, kissing and licking and nibbling at your skin. You try to do the same, but all his neck receives in return is a babble of breathless nonsense drawn from your lips with every firm thrust.

His fingers slip their way between your legs again, feeling where his cock is moving in and out of your pussy. His thumb presses against your swollen clit and you lose a bit of your mind. He pulls his face out of your neck to look at you again.

“You first, baby, fuck,” Hyunjin pants. His sweet breath tickles your face. “Please come for me again. Let me feel it again. Let me see it this time, hm? Let me hear how good it feels to come all—over—my fucking—dick.”

“Oh fuck, Hyunjin, don’t stop, don’t stop, please,” you say, moaning it over and over again until your orgasm takes you. You go rigid and then boneless in a different way, trembling through the waves of your second climax.

Hyunjin groans triumphantly and watches it all. “That’s it, that’s it. Fuck yes, that’s so good, baby, oh, yes—”

He fucks you through your orgasm as long as he can but his own quickly catches up to him. He pulls out at the last second and frantically jerks his cock. His cum shoots out in long streaks, landing all over the place — your stomach, your thighs, the table, the floor. Part of your lust-addled brain hoped he would lose himself completely and come inside you, but the sensible part of you is relieved he didn’t.

He squeezes the last few drops out of his tip and lets go of his cock. It hangs heavy between his legs, flushed and spent. Your pussy is in a similar state; aching in the best way, swollen and throbbing after a thorough fucking. You think you can feel your heartbeat in it.

Hyunjin is as out of breath as you are but he reaches for you and claims your lips in another kiss. When he pulls away, you become aware of just how oily and sticky and sweaty you both are.

“Holy fuck,” you giggle, making him giggle too.

“Yeah. ‘Holy fuck’ is right.”

He clears the rasp in his throat but does not say anything else for a little while. He rests his forehead against yours while you both float back down to earth, waiting for your breathing to settle and your heartbeats to calm. One of his thumbs traces mindless circles into your hip. You absently massage the prickly hairs at the nape of his neck.

Finally, Hyunjin takes a deep breath and straightens. He fixes his pants and pulls his shirt back on. You watch him walk to the other side of the table and pick the towel off the floor. He helps get you cleaned up as best he can. You know you will still walk out of here smelling like green tea and sweat and maybe even his cum, which you help wipe off the floor. He tells you not to fuss over the cum stain on the sheet since he will have to strip it and sanitize the table anyway.

The feeling of his skin on yours lingers even after you have both been wiped and patted and dried off. Hyunjin gently takes your hands and meets your eyes again.

“I hope I—um—” he starts, then swallows and tries again. “I swear I don’t do that with clients. Ever.”

“I believe you,” you say. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

“I hope I didn’t mess anything up,” he goes on, “because it kind of felt like there was something between us, even before the sex. Unless I’m mistaken?”

Your heart flutters. “No, I… I agree,” you say, the hint of a smile tugging your lips. “Maybe I’ll make an appointment myself next time.”

Hyunjin laughs. “Well I was hoping I could give you my personal number. Maybe take you out on a date sometime. Then you’d never have to make an appointment again.”

“Oh! Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“You’ll have to thank your friend for me for booking you this appointment though,” he jokes.

You burst out laughing because you forgot Minho is the reason you are here in the first place.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to thank him earlier,” you say, making Hyunjin laugh again, “but yeah, I guess I will now.”

You smile at him. Hyunjin cups your face in his hands for another kiss before he lets you get dressed, puts his number in your phone, then walks you back to the waiting room. He bids you goodbye with a gleam in his eye that makes your heart flutter once again.

You hope this is the start of something happy and new.

---

#hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #happy ending new beginning #lxveuntold

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cutehoons02 · 2 months ago

Text

The ghost of your heart

Heeseung pt

*pairing: pervy ghost Jake x popular Cheerleader

*trope: Enemies to lovers/He fell first,but she fell harder

*synopsis: Ghosts don't exist, right? Y/n is the captain of the cheerleaders and it's exactly the stereotype of the classic blonde girl with everyone at her feet. Still, there is something dark about her, can see the lost souls, as well as ghosts, and Jake, is a soul standing in limbo between being dead to be human again but the world of the dead has given him a mission, if he wants to be reborn as a human, he must make Y/n more tender and loving with people than she was with her deceased grandmother; but what would happen when he is the one who falls in love with her?

*tags: Lots of humor, Jake loves to scare but at the same time flirt with the protagonist, the protagonist is perverted as is Jake, bratty girl,smut, a lot of kisses, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (shower sex) normal sex-anal sex, fingering (f. receives it) masturbation, pet names (princess, baby, darling, beauty) (jakey, ghost boy, golden retriever) dark and gloomy scenarios, this story is written for an audience over 18 years.

11.6k (🌫️)

(English is not my native language)

In the heart of a small village, surrounded by dense forests and an everlasting grey sky, stood the best university in the country. A place that seemed normal, but which hid disturbing secrets. The students said that the campus was built on an ancient cemetery, and it was true that under the imposing gothic structure of the university, there was a cemetery now forgotten by almost all humans and that sometimes, between the deserted corridors or in the woods around, There were whispers, cries or noises as loud as possible. But Y/n, the cheerleader queen, didn’t believe in that nonsense.

She was too busy being perfect: a dazzling smile, an imposing presence, and that brazen boldness that made everyone crazy, including professors. Her only weakness? The grandmother was the only person who had taught her to love something beyond herself. But since she died, life for Y/n was just a game of appearances.

She wanted to become the best and most famous cheerleader in the country, so she decided to move to the USA to work and dance for a team of professional cheerleaders!

In the world of the dead, a young spirit watched everything with bright eyes. Jake was unlike other ghosts: half human and half ghost, living between two worlds, and his mission would decide it forever. If he had completed the task assigned, he would have had a second chance to live as a mortal and experience all those emotions again that he had long lacked.

But the mission was far from easy.

"You must change the heart of Y/n," said the Overseer, a disturbing figure with empty eyes and cavernous voice. " It’s not just about scaring her. You have to teach her to love, and to see beyond herself. But be careful... If you fail, you will remain forever in Limbo."

Jake, with his golden retriever smile and a worrying inclination to be a little pervert, was not the best fit for the job.

But he was also stubborn. And then, he loved challenges and Y/n could be a beautiful challenge.

It was midnight when you found yourself on the empty stairs of the university library. You wondered why the campus was so quiet when a cold wind made your skin crawl.

"Strange," you mumbled, clenching your jacket.

Then you saw him, another of those stupid ghosts or ghosts that you could see, you couldn’t stand it, you wanted to see your grandmother already dead for a year but instead, you always had encounters with dead ghosts hundreds of years ago.

A tall boy with sparkling eyes and a smile that was a mix of charm and danger. Jake. Just didn’t seem... alive. The shadow that enveloped him was too thick, and the air around him vibrated with energy.

"Who are you?" you asked, trying to seem indifferent, even if your heart was pounding in your chest.

Jake came a few steps closer, creaking the floor beneath him. 'Shame. A girl like you shouldn’t be in such a place at this hour. Do you know that bad things happen here?'

"Don’t make me laugh. Are you just another loser trying to scare me?" You stared right into his eyes, oblivious to the strange energy emanating from him.

Jake laughed softly, a sound echoing in the empty walls of the library. 'Oh, baby. You don’t know how lame I can be.'

Then, with a gesture of his hand, he turned off all the lights in the corridor. Darkness enveloped you, and for the first time, you felt your blood freezing.

Jake approached slowly, his boots echoing in the library’s silence, he stood motionless, arms crossed over the chest, head slightly tilted to one side, his usual little challenge smirk on his lips.

'What is it, beauty? Are you scared?' he asked, his voice deep and a little hoarse. His eyes were peering at you as if they could see directly into your soul.

"Scared? Of you?" you laughed. "Don’t make me laugh. You’re just a... dead boy."

The last words were spoken with insolent lightness, and Jake stopped, narrowing his eyes. You liked to tease.

'A dead boy, you say?' he repeated, the voice that went dangerously low, like a whisper creeping in his mind. With a lightning motion, Jake was in front of you, so close that you held your breath. A strange scent enveloped you, something fresh and unsettling, like the earth after the rain.

'Are you always so sure of yourself?' he asked, lowering his face to a few centimeters from yours. His intense gaze nailed you to the spot, and for the first time, your jaw clenched.

But you were not the type to be intimidated. Not by him, at least you barely moved, letting a smug smile form on your lips. "It’s a shame, you know?"

Jake raised an eyebrow. 'What would be a sin?'

"Whether such a handsome boy is... dead or half dead," you said, stepping on the last word and carefully studying his reaction.

Jake froze. A moment of silence that seemed to hang between them, and then he laughed, a low, dark sound that made you shiver. He ran his hand through his black, messy hair, letting it fall back on his forehead.

'Nice little bit of a tease. Is that how you think to get rid of me? With a compliment? I’m not dead yet, darling, but not so desperate.'

He watched you for a long moment, letting his gaze run through your body, slow, almost brazen. You felt exposed, and vulnerable, but you didn’t want him to see the uncertainty in your eyes.

'Although... I must admit that here, in the world of the living, there is something I miss,' he added, bowing his head and looking at you like a predator.

"Ah yes? What would it be?" you asked, crossing your arms to hide the sudden restlessness.

'The girls,' he replied, with a smile that was a mixture of tenderness and malice. 'They are so alive. So... warm. I miss having a girl in my arms, I miss being touched but the thing that I miss most is sex. It’s hard to ignore, especially when you’re stuck in the world of the dead. You know what I mean? '

You felt the redness on your cheeks, but you tried to keep up your usual sarcastic tone. "Well, I feel sorry for you. You seem to have a rather serious problem. Here at the university, there are many girls, surely there will be some who will be extremely desperate for cocks that would get fucked even by a ghost"

Jake laughed again, but this time there was a darker note in his voice. He stepped back, letting his figure be swallowed by an unnatural shadow. 'Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll find a way to have fun and maybe one who will be desperate to have my dick inside you will own you!"

Before you could answer him in tone because you were seriously angry with him, you felt something touch your neck, like a cold wind. You sprinted backwards, turning around but there was no one there. When you looked back in front of you, Jake had disappeared.

But his voice, low and bewitching, whispered in the silence. 'See you soon, princess.'

You stood still and for the first time, you didn’t know if you were excited or terrified. Maybe both.

Jake spent most of his time watching you from afar, hiding in the shadows. You were a queen in your realm of appearances. He saw you laughing at your best friends' jokes, playing with the boys, and beating the hell out of the cheerleading field. Even the frost seemed unmoved: you kept trying your moves with a ruthless determination, every movement a silent cry that said look at me.

But Jake knew: that security was a mask. Yet, even knowing it, he could not take his eyes off you. There was something about you, a fire that bothered him and attracted him at the same time.

'What a waste,' Jake mumbled one evening, watching you return to the college dorm with the usual provocative smile on your face.

One week later, Jake decided to take a break. A ghost needed to breathe, and the cemetery under the university was his refuge. The stones were covered in mist, and the only sound was that of the wind whispering through the branches of bare trees.

Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon were sitting on the tombstones, legs crossed and bored expressions on their faces. They were also half dead, like Jake, but with a much darker, more perverse, and cynical temperament.

<< Are you still wasting time with that girl?>> asked Sunghoon, raising an eyebrow.

Jake gave him a sharp look. 'It’s not a waste of time. It’s my mission.'

Sunghoon laughed softly, shaking his head. "She doesn’t seem like the type to change easily. She thinks she’s a goddess," said Heeseung

"It’s different than it looks," Jake muttered, almost to himself.

"Different, eh? Sure, keep telling you," Hee replied sarcastically.

Jake was about to fight back when something caught his attention. A figure was walking through the cemetery, wrapped in a soft sweater and simple jeans. She walked with a slow and uncertain pace, holding her arms close to her chest as if to protect himself from the cold.

Y/n.

For a moment, Jake stood motionless, incredulous. He was used to seeing her in makeup, impeccable, and in clothes that enhanced every detail of her body. But now... she was different. Simple, human and there was a strange fragility in her that she had never noticed before.

She stood before an old tombstone, kneeling. She took out a small bouquet from the coat and carefully placed it in front of the tomb. Jake approached, remaining in the shadows, trying to see better.

The name of the grandmother of Y/n.

Y/n was on his knees, hands folded, while he whispered a prayer. His voice was so low that Jake could not understand the words, but there was something in the tone that struck him: a deep, sincere pain.

Jay leaned slightly, intrigued. -Is that the girl you’re trying to change? She doesn’t look like her either. -

Jake didn’t answer. He was too focused on Y/n, for the first time, the mask he wore every day wasn’t there. There was no false smile, no queen pose. There was only one girl who, however much she tried to hide it, suffered.

He remembered what the Overseer had told him: the only person Y/n had ever loved was his grandmother, but that wasn’t enough.

Loving a memory was not enough for the world of the dead. Y/n She had to learn to live, to love someone in the present, someone who was there with her, who taught her that life was more than a race for perfection.

<<Interesting,>> Sunghoon muttered, breaking the silence. <<Perhaps there is hope for her after all. But not for you>>

Jake ignored him, his eyes still fixed on the cheerleader. He felt a strange sting in his chest; it was not compassion, nor mere curiosity something deeper, something he did not want to admit.

Y/n slowly stood up, arranged the flowers, and whispered a final greeting. Jake remained hidden in the shadows, watching her leave.

When he was sure he couldn’t hear it, he whispered: 'Perhaps there is more in you than you want to make believe, princess. But it won’t be so easy for you to hide it from me.'

Then he turned to Sunghoon, a mischievous grin masking his anxiety. 'How about a bet? I want to see how long it takes for him to collapse.'

Sunghoon laughed. << You don’t bet to win. You just want to have fun.

Jake ran his hand through his hair, the smile spreading. 'Correct. Why should I not? If I fail, I will remain forever in this form but if I win and make love I can have my life back as a human.'

You were clinging to your sweater, shivering at the frost that seemed to wrap all the wood under the cemetery. The fog was so thick that you could barely see your steps, the world around you reduced to a set of shadows and muffled sounds. You could hear the branches breaking under your shoes, and now and then the wind would whisper the leaves over you.

For the first time in a long time, you felt... small. There was no party music, no glittering lights, or the admiring eyes of the people around you. You were alone, immersed in the wild nature, in the heart of a forest that seemed to almost breathe around you.

Your fists clenched. You weren’t the type to be intimidated, not even by nature. You would never let anyone even anything-make you feel vulnerable.

After a few steps, however, something changed. The fog began to dissipate, and a figure was seen in the middle of the dirt road leading to the university. You stopped suddenly, your heart popped in your throat.

There was someone.

The figure was tall, with broad shoulders and a dark aura that seemed to absorb the little moonlight that filtered through the trees. When you took a step forward, you recognized him immediately. Jake.

He wore the same mischievous smile that he had seen that night in the library, but this time there was something more. Something more dangerous. His eyes were shining, as if he knew something he didn’t.

'Are you coming home, princess?' the voice rang in the air like a creepy whisper.

You raised your chin, trying to keep control. You couldn’t afford to look weak. "Are you following me? You have nothing better to do in your... world of the dead?"

Jake chuckled. 'It’s not me who roams the woods in the pre-shadow. You’re the one who decided to take a solitary walk in such a place. By chance were you looking for me?'

You got over it, ignoring the shiver that ran down your back. "Not everything is about you, ghost boy."

Jake did not move as you passed by him, but his gaze followed your every movement. The jeans you wore hugged your legs perfectly, and the soft sweater made you look even more human, even more vulnerable. Jake slowly licked his lip, an almost instinctive gesture.

'I never said that everything revolves around me,' he said, his voice low and caressing. 'But admit it, princess... a little attention does not mind, right? '

You stopped to watch it. "What do you want from me, Jake? Why don’t you go and torment someone else?"

Jake came a few steps closer, the shadow of the mist that seemed to follow him like a cloak. 'Cause you’re different. You don’t scare easily. Don’t pretend to be someone else, at least not in front of me. And... you’re funny when you try to be tough.'

Shook your head, a forced smile on your lips. "You’re pathetic, you know that? I can’t believe you got a second chance to live and you’re wasting it, stalking me."

Jake stopped right in front of you, so close that you had to look up to look him in the eye. 'I’m not wasting anything,' he said, the tone fading, becoming darker. 'I’m just... studying my prey.'

"Prey? I warn you I could become extremely bad, I’m not afraid of a perverted fan" you answered, with a grin of defiance.

Jake laughed slowly, leaning slightly towards you. 'I don’t know how much I’d like to be perverted with you, Y/n.'

His words were a whisper, but the way he spoke them that note of desire and mischief made you blush, why were you blushing at a ghost? Were you so sick and desperate at the same time?

"If you’re done playing, I have more important things to do," you said, trying to seem disinterested.

Jake watched you go away, his smile widening. But he wasn’t done. Not yet.

'See, princess,' he murmured, more to himself than to you, 'it’s not just a mission. It’s a damn game... and I can’t wait to win.'

And with one last look at your figure disappearing into the fog, Jake dissolved back to the cemetery.

The gym was filled with cheers and applause as the university cheerleaders performed for the annual competition. You were perfect as ever: every jump, every movement, every smile was executed with impeccable precision. You were the star of the team, and you knew it.

But when the time came for the big final jump, something went wrong. The girl next to you, an insecure freshman who desperately tried to keep up, mistimed, making you lose your balance for a moment. You immediately ended the performance with grace, but that little mistake did not go unnoticed.

Behind the scenes, you were furious.

"You’re a disaster!" you yelled at the girl, your hair still tied in a perfect tail as you approached with a look full of anger. "Do you have any idea how much work it took to prepare for this race? And you ruin everything because you can’t count to three?"

The girl, younger and frightened, tried to justify herself. 'I’m sorry, really... it won’t happen again, I promise!'

"It won’t happen again because you won’t have another chance," you said with a cold smile that seemed more like a threat. "You’re not made for this. If you can’t keep up, go."

Jake, who was watching from the other side of the gym, crossed his arms over his chest. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and a cynical grin formed on his lips.

'Interesting,' he murmured to himself. "So this is the real you. We’ll see if in the future you still behave like this spoiled girl and bitch to people!"

He was not surprised.

He had always known that beneath that perfect facade was a wicked and ruthless side, but seeing it in action confirmed that there was much work to be done with you. And he was more than willing to be your executioner.

The next day, you were sitting with your legs crossed in the communication room, playing with a pen while waiting for the professor to announce the couples for the project. You hated group work, especially when they did it with computer science students. Those guys were mostly antisocial nerds who didn’t even know how to maintain eye contact, let alone have a conversation.

When you read your partner’s name on the paper the professor handed out, you raised an eyebrow. Jake Sim.

"Who the hell is this?" you mumbled, convinced he was just another loser. When you walked into the empty classroom you thought you’d already find that loser Jake Sim, but there was no one. The space was unsettling, the kind of silence that was not normal in a university full of noisy students. You took a few steps forward, the sound of your heels clanging on the linoleum floor.

The air was cold, and a strange feeling struck you as if someone were watching you. "What the hell is going on here?" You grumbled, with a note of annoyance in your voice.

Just then, the door behind you closed suddenly, the loud sound made you jump and you turned to snap and ran towards the door trying to open it, but the handle did not move.

It was locked.

Shook your head, trying to calm down. "It will be a joke of some idiot," you said aloud, to convince yourself more than anything else. "Stupid nerds... think they’re gonna scare me with these things?"

You took your phone out of your pocket and activated the front camera to check on the trick-a habit that never gave up, even in moments like that. But when you looked at the screen, your blood froze in your veins.

Behind you, reflected in the camera, there was a figure. Jake.

His figure was shrouded in a shadow almost palpable, and his eyes shone like small beacons in the darkness. He was behind, too close, with that usual mischievous grin that seemed to say: I got you.

You yell, dropping your phone on the ground. You’re sunflowers of snap, heart that beat so hard to hurt her. "Are you crazy?!" You screamed, Jake laughed softly, a low, hoarse sound that rang out in the empty classroom. 'Oh, princess, finally some emotion from you. Isn’t it funny being scared?'

You stared at him, the eyes wide. For a moment you seemed almost vulnerable, an absolute novelty for you. But your fear soon turned into anger.

"You’re a sick man! What did you think you were getting by doing this?!" you slammed, clenching your fists. "I can’t believe you’re Jake Sim. You’re a monster!"

Jake tilted his head, amused. Monster? Interesting. I thought you were used to being on top of everyone, and looking down on others. But look who feels vulnerable now...'

You hated him. For the first time in your life, you felt a genuine, burning hatred. And he seemed to taste it.

"I hate you," the voice charged with anger that you couldn’t control.

Jake was silent for a moment. Those words had a different weight, an intensity he didn’t expect. For a moment, he seemed almost pleased. Then, in an instant, everything changed.

His dark, ghostly figure began to change. The shadow that enveloped him dissipated, and before you appeared... a boy. A human.

Not just any guy. Jake was tall and slender, with wide shoulders and a perfect jaw. His dark hair fell on his eyes, and his smile was a mixture of mischief and temptation. He wore a simple sweatshirt and jeans, but the effect was devastating, it was extremely attractive for a half-ghost, ghost, and human.

"What... what the hell..." you stammered. Jake stepped forward, his evil grin still on his face. 'Now do you believe it, princess? I’m Jake Sim. And I am much more than you thought.'

You backed away, but he was too fast. He approached you, until he was close enough to bend slightly, his face a few centimeters from his.

"I hate you," you repeated to him.

'Perfect, because hate and love... are much more alike than you think.'

The tension between you was palpable, almost suffocating. Jake stared at you for a moment longer, his smile widening even further. Then he walked away, turning to the door which opened itself with a left creaking.

'See you at the next meeting, princess,' he said, leaving the room with a slow and confident pace.

You glanced at your phone as you were getting ready to go shower, tired after training. The deadline of the communication project was getting closer and closer, and that ghost of Jake seemed to take it very seriously. He played with you, disappeared, and reappeared when you least expected it, leaving you more confused and frustrated every time.

"How the hell do I work with a... ghost?" you murmured, taking your hand through your sweat-soaked hair.

An idea crossed your mind, making you burst into laughter. "Ghosts are not called with the Ouija board?"

You took a sheet of paper and a pen, drawing quickly a circle with letters and numbers, just for joking. Then, with a theatrical voice, you began to evoke him.

"Oh, great and powerful Jake Sim, grant your presence to this poor mortal who desperately needs to finish a project!" you said, laughing. But nothing happened, of course. Jake never showed up when needed, but he knew how to show up at the most inopportune moments.

You took off your workout clothes and wrapped yourself in a towel before heading to the bathroom.

A nice hot shower would calm your nerves and give you the strength to face all that chaos.

The water was boiling, relaxing you completely as the room filled with steam. For a moment you allowed yourself the luxury of forgetting everything: Jake, the project, the university, the pressure to be always perfect.

But when you opened the bathroom door to enter your room, you suddenly locked it. Jake was there, lying on your bed as if he were the master of the room. His dark hair fell back on his forehead, and he wore a simple unbuttoned shirt, revealing the pale skin and dangerously smug smile that you now knew all too well.

'You took a long time,' he said nonchalantly, braiding his hands behind his head as he stared at you with that cheeky and hungry look on his face as he watched you as you had only a towel covering your body.

"What the hell are you doing here?! How did you get in?"

Jake laughed softly, the sound low and melodic. 'Princess, you called me, remember? Big and powerful Jake Sim, you said.'

You had a hand on your forehead, unbelieving. "It was a joke! I didn’t think that... that..." The words died in your throat as you noticed the way he was looking at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes, Jake slowly got up from bed, the smile becoming even more mischievous. 'You know, I came while you were in the shower. For a moment I thought to reach you. But then I remembered...' He approached, your body a few centimeters from your '...I’m not a fan of water. Too... wet.'

You stepped back, but Jake came forward, narrowing the distance.

"Jake, I’m not kidding. Get out of my room. Now."

Jake tilted his head, his grin turning into a satisfied smile. 'Oh, princess, but I’m not kidding at all.'

He reached out a hand, the cold fingers brushed the hot skin of your naked leg and the contrast between the cold of his touch and the warmth of your body was almost paralyzing. Jake watched your every reaction, his dark eyes shining with malice.

"You’re so hot," he muttered, letting his hand slide slowly down your leg. "It almost feels... unnatural. Perhaps it is the fire that you have inside, or perhaps it is just the effect I make on you." You shook your head, slowly but surely his long and cold fingers slowly ran down your thigh until they went under your towel, and felt your cheeks warm up but when it was about to touch you heard the phone ring and maybe it was your salvation or Your punishment?

You looked at what and who had written to you and read:

Hi Y/n, how about going out tonight? I’m sure you’d have a lot of fun. What do you think?"

He was a campus boy, handsome, charming, and popular, but you didn’t care. After all, no guy seemed to make you beat your heart or turn you on. Although you would never admit it to anyone, Jake could stir up something inside of you that no one else had ever touched.

But when Jake noticed you were laughing while writing insignificant things to another boy, his attitude changed. In a moment, he ripped the phone out of your hands, reading messages quickly.

"What’s so funny?" asked Jake, the air suddenly getting heavier and you looked at him in surprise.

"He’s just another guy who wants to go out with me."

Jake looked up, the look of those who do not accept being ignored. 'Don’t like girls who do not pay attention to me' he said, the voice that now had a lower, lower, almost dangerous tone.

You laughed nervously, almost embarrassed by Jake’s overreaction.

"Jake, it’s not that I’m ignoring you. And anyway, I don’t care to date. I have more important things to think about, like the project, the study, and the university. I don’t need another guy to push my life,"

'Really?' Jake stared at you intensely, his face approached yours. His mouth was just a breath away from yours, and his cold breath touched your skin. 'But you don’t understand, Y/n. I’m not just any guy and I’m not a loser. I’m dead,

You stepped back, for a moment surprised by his raw sincerity. But Jake didn’t let you get away this time. Without warning, he took you by the hips with force, drawing you toward herself and opening your eyes wide, unbelieving. Jake always had you teased, but now... there was something different in his way of treating you.

"So?" you tried to get away from him, but Jake wouldn’t let you go. "You’re half dead, that’s true, but I can’t help it. You can’t expect me to give you all my attention or to walk into the world of the dead so that you’ll become a human again, Jake. I’m not who you think I am."

Jake looked at you intensely, a grin that became even darker.

Before you could escape them again, Jake kissed you. His cold and soft lips found you surprised but at the same time... There was a kind of urgency in that kiss that made you tremble. It was as if, for millennia, Jake had never had physical contact with a human being, as if your flesh were calling him. His hand moved along your body, touching your skin with a delicacy that made you shiver. You felt the cold of his fingers, but at the same time, there was an unknown heat creeping inside you.

It was as if Jake was exploring something he had never touched before, a feeling he couldn’t even describe.

Jake’s body held you captive, but you couldn’t tell if it was fear or desire that tied you to him. The kiss was like a play of lights and shadows, between the cold and the heat, between Jake’s past and his present. With a quick movement, Jake made you lie on the edge of the bed and slowly opened your towel and saw your legs trying to close but with his strength he opened them again and saw your pussy covered in pink panties and already saw that you were excited for him.

'Look who is now that desperate girl who was so sure of herself with me the first time we met? I bet I’ll make you scream my name in a few minutes when I fuck you with my tongue.'

You didn’t want to show him that you were so desperate and excited that a stupid ghost would fuck your pussy but his kisses were all over the inside of your thighs, squeezing, licking, and sometimes biting your skin. You held your breath and groaned as he rubbed his cheek against your thigh, he was waiting for your approval to proceed further and all he did was excite you even more.

"Please..." you whispered in an awkward voice. You heard Jake’s eerie laughter and to your surprise, you didn’t expect Jake to lick you directly over your panties, right where your lips were. Your eyes have opened wide, and a guttural groaning has left your throat unintentionally. The sensation sent an electric shock that ran straight down your body, and you prepared as it taunted you, pressing its hot mouth and wet tongue against the already wet barrier of your underwear.

"Jake... oh my god." It seemed like he was having a good time, licking from top to bottom,

Waving his tongue and licking every single crack as if he were a hungry man but at the same time he was teasing you and ruining you; he wanted to destroy you, he wanted to see you give in and go crazy just for him. With a tear, he took off your pink panties full of excitement and for the first time in your life you felt alive, each lick fed a flame that burned more and more hot until you were practically singing her fucking name. The tip of his tongue surrounded the lump on top of your sensitive folds and you groaned as you felt him grinning in your pussy all in good show for him lucid and excited.

'Mmmm, I’m destroying my favorite little human just with my tongue and it’s so nice to see you so vulnerable, I could break you in two at this moment but at the same time it’s so nice to hear you scream my name' he mumbled gloomily as he kept flattening his tongue on your folds, chuckling while you tried to pull his hair to hold you still. 'When you come I want you to shout it for me, okay baby otherwise I won’t make you come'

You were so embarrassed, disappointed in yourself but at the same time doomed because you wanted to come and you wouldn’t have cared if it was a ghost or a human at that moment. Jake decided to put a single finger in your pussy and you screamed as you felt your walls clenching around it, the feeling of something filling you was almost enough to push you over the edge. His rhythm accelerated and when his tongue began to touch your clitoris in time with his finger you swore that it was over for you.

"I’m so close, Jake pls" Waves of unbridled pleasure swept you away as the ghost continued his cares all along, and you heard in the distance the sound of your voice shouting his delirious name.

Jake stood between your legs, spraying soft kisses on your thighs and you couldn’t help but see the boldness of that boy in being so talented with his tongue. If he was so good with his tongue what would he do to you with his dick inside you? You shivered when he walked away from you and saw that he had a funny smile but at the same time evil that did not promise anything good and licked his fingers with your excitement and after a few seconds you heard his scary laugh throughout the room and dissolved in the air Who brought with him the cold as sharp in your whole room.

It had been a few days since that meeting in your room with Jake and finally, you had not seen him for almost a week and you were more relaxed, you were settling into the bathrooms of the university, your heart beating hard in your chest while looking at the mirror. The upcoming game and show were about to begin, and although it was more than an hour away, you felt the tension grow in every fiber of your body. You used to be commanding, always perfect, but that day something tested you. And then, as if fate wanted to add more meat to the fire, the door of the bathroom opened slowly, and when you looked up, crossing her eyes.

The girl who had knocked you down a few days earlier. You yelled at her, insulted her, and asked her to leave the team. You wanted to put her in her place. But now... now the girl looked completely different. It was clear that he was looking for something, you raised an eyebrow, your attitude indifferent, but underneath, your heart began to beat a little faster.

"What are you doing here?" You said in a tone of voice that did not hide contempt. The girl seemed undecided, but at last, with a deep breath, she came to you, her face tense but determined.

'Just wanted to say... I’m sorry for what happened, but I worked hard. Look.' The girl took out her phone and started showing videos of the training she had done alone in the days after the fall. Her determination was evident: hours spent improving, perfecting himself, without the help of anyone.

You watched those videos in silence, your eyes slipping from one movement to another. The girl no longer looked as weak as she had seen the day before, and a small glimmer of respect lit up in you. For a moment you felt vulnerable, as if you were looking at a part of yourself in that girl.

"Why should I give you another chance?" You asked in a cold tone, but something in your voice was betraying a slight opening. You never gave anyone a second chance, but something in that scene was making you doubt.

The girl, with a shy smile, stepped forward. 'Because I can do it. I promise you I won’t let you down.'

"Okay, but if you don’t, I’m gonna kick you out of the team for good. Do you understand?" The girl nodded in delight, but before she could say anything I added in a harder tone. "Don’t try to hug me, because I won’t accept it."

But as soon as you said those words, the girl gave you a quick hug, and you stayed stiff as if you had been frozen. You didn’t want it, but something in you maybe that little part that could feel human, had allowed it to happen. You were about to push the girl away, but before I could do it, a low and incredibly cold voice whispered on your neck, making you freeze on the spot.

'We are taking giant steps' The voice was grave, almost like a whisper far away, and you felt a shiver along your back.

Before you could react, cold hands leaned on your shoulder, almost as if they were complimenting you. You’re shot, and you saw it. Jake.

He smiled, his usual grin, but there was something different in his gaze as if he was looking at something more, something Y/n could not decipher.

'Oh, maybe you’re not as bad as I thought,' he said, his voice a mix of sarcasm and something darker. "I’m seeing you change. But don’t forget who you are and that you are the only way to make me relive all those emotions that you could feel for free if you opened your heart just a little bit at a time for someone! '

After the race, you were feeling euphoric. You had given your best and everything was going well. Despite the adrenaline still flowing in your veins, you felt relieved. The victory had brought a sense of peace to a hidden corner of your heart so you headed to the private bathroom that you had as team captain in the dressing room, hoping to have some quiet moments to relax a little.

But as soon as you entered, a strange feeling ran up your back. You were alone. Alone with your shadow and those thoughts that you could not stop.

You sighed, you wanted absolutely to drive away the words of Jake "You are the only means to me to revive the emotions" god hated it because you had to manage to make it become human, and then how?

You took off your cheerleading outfit and put in the shower, trying to concentrate only on the water that was running on your skin. But something had changed in the air. There was a feeling of frost that you couldn’t get away from. A feeling that made you think someone was there with her.

And then he heard it: the rustle of footsteps that belonged to no one else, his presence, the one you could never escape. Jake. His cold breath touched your skin, making you shiver, but you couldn’t get away. He had waited for her.

'Congratulations for the race' said Jake, his voice low and warm, but the tone was more sharp than usual. You did not turn around and continued to lather your hair, but felt the look of him on you and despite the anxiety that grew inside you, there was something that kept you curious. Like a butterfly attracted by light, but not knowing that light would be its destruction. Suddenly, without warning, Jake walked into the shower and pushed you hard against the bathroom wall. You tried to fight, but his cold and strong hands held you firmly in place. His breath was close, too close. His lips touched your skin, but he did not kiss it immediately.

"I was waiting for you. After all, where did you think you were going to run?" he said with a grin.

You did not let yourself be intimidated and with a mischievous smile you sunflower and lit the jet of hot water, directing it against him. You remembered that time when he did not tolerate water in his ghost form so you sprayed the water spray on his face and then on his body. Jake’s face twisted as if it were a reaction to the feeling of getting wet. His transparent clothes made him more like a golden retriever puppy, but something demonic was hidden behind his eyes.

With a lightning snap, Jake pushed you against the tiles with such force that you had no way to react. His wet and cold skin was superimposed on yours, the warmth of his body mixing with the ice emanating from him. You felt a shiver up her back, but it was not only fear. There was a deeper, more dangerous feeling: desire and I made you laugh as you saw him so helpless just because of the water.

'Don’t dare more’ Jake whispered in a guttural voice. His cold breath caressed your skin as his hands clenched tighter to your hips. 'I’ve had enough of you, of your stubbornness. I’m not your game. I’m not your pastime.'

Jake’s hands slid down your wet body, revealing his vulnerability but also his resistance. It was like a challenge. He was testing you, and you had no choice but to respond.

"I don’t care what you think," you whisper, but your voice is a little shaky. "I hate you, Jake. You’re just a ghost to me."

Jake looked at you with a cruel grin, dark eyes shining brightly like you’ve never seen before. 'It doesn’t matter what you think. We’re more alike than you think. You’re just too proud to accept it.'

His hands slipped to the neck, his cold touch that seemed to tear away all resistance. Jake’s lips came close to kissing you, but this time there was no sweetness. There was anger, desire, and an uncontrollable need to make you his. You did not back away, but your mind was becoming more confused, You started to take off his sweats and untie his pants and found him with only Calvin Klein boxer shorts and brought back to the sight that even a half-ghost wanted to have some fashionable and sexy things.

He pulled you closer to him and took you in his arms and you couldn’t resist the urge to rub your pussy fully exposed against the fabric of his underwear, slowly rocking back and forth. He moans slowly as you continue to kiss and you take advantage of this opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. His spit tastes like the chocolate popcorn they sold during the game.

With a gesture you made him slip his boxers on the ground and you saw for the first time his cock it was so big and already erect that he could destroy your pussy but Jake had other plans for you; 'You’re a too crazy sweetie, who is the one that is desperate to have my cock inside of you?' Rolled your eyes when you felt his lips tickling and biting you a shag while you held tight to his arms not to fall and slip.

'Answer me or I’m going away at once' You did not with your head, you didn’t want him to leave, you needed him.

"I need to have you Jake, I want everything of you and yes I am extremely brazed but at the same time desperate to need a half-ghost and human dick" Jake laughed at your words and with a slow gesture he put you down and you didn’t understand what he was doing until you felt that he slowly stroked your pussy which already had some sticky cum and put it in his fingers and then turned you over and you had your face almost attached to the wet tiles and cold from the shower.

'See if my favorite human can get it both from behind and in front of my cock, If you are so desperate to want it,’

you sunflower for fear but also excitement and saw Jake tickling your hard ass for the countless hours of training after a few seconds you felt a finger enter your hole and you started to squirm but at the same time you were Excited and you trusted him.

'Stay still princess or I’ll hurt you' and while he kept lubricating you slowly adding another finger gave you small kisses on the neck. You put your hands on the shower tiles and his hands took your ass and forcefully pushed his cock full of your excitement into your ass, you screamed for the strange feeling, for the initial pain, for scorching but after another 2/3 pushes you started moaning his name repeatedly.

"Jakey is too much, oh my god" Jake started laughing when he felt your ass getting closer and closer to him, you wanted to show off a good girl but by now your body was one with his, Jake’s venous hands are slipping under your pussy, the eyes that rotate towards the back of the head as his pushes become slightly faster and irregular and his fingers start to tease your clitoris getting swollen for all those stimulations you felt.

"Fuck Jake, it’s so good" moans painfully as Jake slid into your ass, grabbing you, using you, and ruining you as his hips bounce against your ass, shaking you with the force of every move. Your groans grew louder with each push, and you felt his warm breath against your neck, yet he did not stop, becoming only more possessive second by second.

'Damn, baby, you’re getting fucked so good by a fucking ghost, where do you want it to come?' Jake’s accented voice was pinching against your skin, while pushing inside you, felt the balls that are slapping your ass at his relentless rhythm. A hot, burning pleasure rises your spine, emitting a low, almost imperceptible squeal as it pinches your clitoris again.

You didn’t know what to say, your head wasn’t thinking anymore, you just wanted it to go on "Faster" moaning, without realizing how much his cock was controlling your mind at the time.

'Answer me where you want that comes Y/n, or I can fuck your tits with my dick'

You did not with your head, you wanted to feel it inside of you. “In my pussy, I’ve been so good lately" Jake shoved his cock in your ass again and after a while, he turned you around, had flowing locks of his black hair stuck to his forehead for sweat and a smile that promised nothing good but at the same time could not take his eyes off you.

Like a rabid demon, he takes you back in his arms and then pushes herself into your pussy and feels primordial and violent traction before he bangs you back into his cock and feels the tears build up in your eyes.

"Jake!" You cried again, hearing your pussy throbbing while it was restocking, you were extremely fucked by him, you kissed him and pulled his hair while he buried himself inside of you, his cock contracted inside your pussy a couple of seconds later, indicating that he was close to orgasm and your legs wrapped around his waist even more, holding him close to you as he kept pushing inside of you. His eyes rolled back, his cock spilled threads of cum deep into your pussy and you kept hugging him and kissing him while realizing that maybe you were extremely ruined, how could you feel for a boy who at that moment was human but soon would turn back into a ghost?

When you came back to the room after cleaning you were a little embarrassed but also relaxed, Jake slowly approached you with a towel in hand, the mischievous smile that he could not hide even when trying to be serious. 'Sit down,' he ordered softly, pointing to a chair by the bed. You raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to obey or challenge it, but in the end, you dropped on the chair with a half-puff.

"What are you doing, are you drying my hair now? I thought that after having me you would be gone forever!" you teased him.

Jake turned on the hairdryer, tilting his head in a theatrical gesture. 'Oh, queen of sarcasm, I do you a favor. Your hair is a mess, and I don’t want you to go around scaring people. You know, that’s my job and then it shows that you didn’t understand yet understand anything about me.Y/n'

Jake’s cold hands gently lifted your long wet hair. As he passed the towel you felt again that familiar shiver of her not entirely human touch, a mixture between ice and heat that always left you a little confused. Then the heat of the hair dryer began to replace that feeling, wrapping it in unexpected comfort.

You tried to mask a slight smile. "I would never have believed it, you know? Jake Sim, half ghost, half devoted hairdresser."

'Shh, don’t ruin the moment until now you’ve been good to me,' he replied with a smirk. 'I might surprise you with how good I am at taking care of you in any way from the physical, to the listening and more.'

The sound of the hair dryer filled the room, but not enough to cover the rhythm of your heart that seemed to accelerate every time Jake got too close. Jake, on the other hand, seemed focused, his eyes followed every movement of your hair as if it were a sacred ritual. When he finished, he turned off the hair dryer and let his fingers slide through the soft and dry locks, almost caressing them.

'Perfect,' he murmured, leaning over to you. 'Too perfect to be true.'

You shook your head and looked at him with rosy cheeks. "Are you done staring at me or do you want to set up a beauty salon?"

Jake touched your face with the back of his hand, tilting his head as if he were looking for something. 'You know... you taste too good,' he whispered in a low tone and loaded with dangerous intimacy. 'Always feel it, every time I approach you. I wonder how long I could resist without feeling it forever.'

Before you could answer, he stooped down and kissed your forehead with an unexpectedly tender gesture. 'Don’t tempt me again' he added with a mischievous grin, his gaze shining with something dark and irresistible.

"You’re the only one who tries yourself," you provoked him, trying to hide your heart’s crazy beat.

Jake walked away with a sneering smile, but before he let you go, he bent down again, his cold breath on your neck. " Who knows, I could get used to this... taking care of you and having you mine forever. '

Jake had dropped on your bed, broken as usual, his hair still wet falling into soft locks on his face. 'Okay, Y/n, your turn to be helpful. After all, I was a great hairdresser for you,' he said with that provocative grin.

"Don’t make me regret letting you dry my hair. Now stand still and let’s see if you can’t be the usual clown in a ghost version."

With a towel in your hand, you came closer and sat down, but instead of standing next to him, you snuggled up on his legs, taking him completely by surprise. Jake looked at you with slightly blurred eyes, his mouth bending into a funny smile. 'What are you doing?' he asked, but his voice was softer than usual.

"I take care of you, just as you did me," you replied, purposely avoiding his gaze as you began to gently dab his hair. "Now shut up, golden retriever, or you’ll ruin everything."

Jake laughed, the deep sound that clanged in his chest, but he let it. 'Golden retriever? You’re kidding me, right?'

"Perhaps," you replied but did not give him time to reply. You slowly ran your fingers through his soft hair, stroking it as if it were something natural. "Wow, your hair... is so soft. Seriously, what did you use when you were still... well, human? Baby shampoo?"

'Admit it, you like them' he replied with a half smile, closing his eyes as your hands kept moving with an unexpected delicacy.

His breath slowed down, and for a moment it seemed almost vulnerable, a sharp contrast to the usual Jake you knew always trying to scare you, tease you, or that of a few hours before as he destroyed you physically and mentally in the shower.

You watched him, surprised by how... beautiful he was. Your heart leaped, and a strange feeling invaded you. You were doomed. You were falling in love with him, a guy who wasn’t even completely human. You tried to drive that thought away, but the way Jake let himself go under your hands distracted you too much.

While you were finishing drying his hair with the hairdryer, your fingers lingered a moment on his neck, almost without thinking about it. Then, before you could stop, you bent down and left him a light kiss, almost imperceptible, on his cold skin.

Jake opened his snapped eyes and looked at you, a flash of surprise mixed with fun crossing his gaze. 'Wait a moment,' he began, the smile that was widening into a grin. 'Are you saying that, for once, you’re the physical one? The lady I don’t want to let go, don’t tell me that you like me and that I’m making you truly a human!'

You immediately retracted, trying to maintain an indifferent expression as the heat invaded your face. "Don’t get too excited, Jake. It was just... a moment of compassion."

"Compassion?" he repeated, laughing as his hands laid on your hips to hold you close. ‘Oh no, honey. You’re doomed. Admit it, you like taking care of me. I may be your pet evil ghost.’

You shook your head, but the smile you tried to hold back betrayed your cold face. "You are unbearable."

'But you adore me and you can even admit that you will miss me if I die at all,' he answered, his voice a whisper as he touched your face with his fingers,

Leaving you speechless again and with that strange feeling of fear that you had to lose him forever as it happened with your grandmother.

His words pierced your heart like a cold and sudden blow. That possibility, the idea of losing him completely, was more frightening than you wanted to admit. He was not normal, he was not human, yet he had changed your world for a couple of months now. You looked at him, trying to find words, but your throat seemed closed by a knot.

Jake raised an eyebrow, his smile returning to be a slight provocation. 'Knew it. You’re too stubborn to say, but I know you’d miss me.'

You looked down, then breathed deeply, trying to dominate the emotions that were struggling to emerge. When you finally looked up at him again, your expression was different: more vulnerable, more sincere. " Not sure I could stand it, Jake," you admitted in a low voice. "If you disappeared forever. I’m not good at... these things, but you..." tried to find the right words. " You are more than I want to admit, and if you left... it would be like losing a piece of myself."

Jake stood still for a moment, his gaze staring at you intensely. Then his smile softened, turning into something more authentic, more tender.

'I knew it,' he said, gently pulling you toward him. 'I knew that beneath all that hardness there was a part of you that could not resist me.'

You gave him a little blow on the shoulder, but you let him hold you. It was warm, hotter than you would ever have thought possible for a being that was not fully alive. You took refuge against him, closing your eyes as you felt his slow and steady breath. "You’re unbearable," you murmured against his chest.

'And you are adorable when you try to deny the obvious,' he replied, his voice that vibrated softly.

‘Now stop fighting with yourself and relax. You’re safe with me.'

Jake squeezed you tighter, and in the silence of the room, the world seemed to stop. His hand traced a slow and reassuring path down your back, and you let go, feeling strangely safe. You weren’t ready to confess everything, not yet, but you knew that Jake had understood. He knew you too well. But you didn’t know that maybe it was too late and you had to confess your feelings...

A ray of sunshine seeped through the curtains, hitting your face and woken you gently. For a moment, she stood there, still half asleep, waiting for you to feel that strange familiar feeling of Jake next to you. But when you sunburn, you find only a void next to you, the cold pillow, as if no one had ever been there.

Your heart was tight. You quickly got up, looking around the room. There was no sign of Jake, nor his cheeky smile, nor his teasing. The only thing that remained was that slight, unmistakable cold smell, like the distant echo of his presence.

Closed your eyes, clenching his knees to his chest. Maybe it was silly, but the absence of Jake hurt you already, more than you were ready to admit.

You found yourself running with the cold wind that hit your face, strangely the day was sunny but your phone gave -5 degrees, shoes sinking in the now frozen mud, and ran to the entrance of the cemetery below the university. Your heart was beating crazy, confused, and broken at the same time. You were running to the cemetery without thinking twice, desperately looking for a place where you could feel at least a fragment of peace, a little comfort.

You knelt before your grandmother’s grave, trembling hands holding the cold stone as if it could answer your pain. "Grandma," you murmured with a broken voice. "I’m... am I in love with a ghost?”

Of someone who shouldn’t even exist? Is this my destiny?"

Warm tears were flowing down your cheeks as the silence of the cemetery seemed to crush you. You didn’t dare to go see Jake’s grave. The only thought of it was squeezing your chest in a vice. If he had disappeared forever... you wouldn’t be able to bear it.

At first, you despised him, you hated him with all your heart but slowly he managed to make you feel emotions that you hadn’t felt in a while, you were better with everyone and you were also weaker.

You did not stand alone for long, though. Behind your back, the sound of light steps and familiar voices made you turn around. Hoon, Heeseung, and Jay slowly approached their faces halfway between the amused and the serious. It was strange to see them there, in that sacred and sad place, but they did not seem to be disturbed by the atmosphere. After all, they were ghosts.

'Then,' Jay began with a crooked smile, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket 'Did you come here to cry? It’s not like you, Y/n. The last time I saw you crying was when they buried your grandmother.

Heeseung crouched next to you, looked at you with an almost compassionate look, and said in a calm voice: -You know, Jake would hate to see you like this. -

Hoon instead merely crossed his arms, leaning against a nearby tree, his icy eyes peering at the cheerleader with an almost sharp curiosity. << Don’t want to know? >> asked, tone devoid of emotion. << Do not you want to go see his tomb? Maybe there is something that you do not know. >>

"I can’t," you whisper, looking down. "What if it wasn’t there? What if it was all over?"

Jay laughed softly, shaking his head. 'Do you realize how dramatic you are? Come with us, we’ll help you find out.'

Hoon pulled himself away from the tree and reached out to you, his face still impassive but his voice softer. << If you don’t do it now, you’ll regret it. Trust us. >>

You stared at them for a moment, hesitating, the heart that was hammering into your chest. Then, with a deep breath, you grabbed Hoon’s hand. Perhaps it was time to face the truth, whatever it may be. You held Hoon’s hand as if it were the only hold that would keep you from collapsing completely, Heeseung, with an unexpected sweetness held your arm, almost protecting you from the frost that seemed to invade every part of the cemetery. No words were exchanged during the walk; the air was heavy, full of emotions that nobody dared to pronounce.

When they finally reached Jake’s grave you stopped, your eyes rested on the stone. The date was fresh, almost as if it had been traced only a few hours earlier. The date was yesterday. The day you made him understand, in your own way, that you were in love with him.

You fell to your knees before the tomb, trembling hands brushing the cold surface. " No... no, it can’t be," whispers in tears. Your face twitched into a look of heartbreaking pain as tears poured down. "Why? Why now?"

Jay leaned down beside you, laying a hand on your back in a surprisingly gentle gesture to him. 'Don’t cry like that, Y/n. You know Jake would hate to see you like this.'

Jay’s words were lost in the despair that clouded your mind. Every fibre of your being cried out in pain, for the regret that you did not say those words aloud.

As the three friends tried to comfort her, a familiar figure approached silently from the cemetery gates. Jake. But this time it was not the spirit you had known. It was almost entirely human. His hair was brown and shining in the sunlight, and beside him was the Death Overseer, a mysterious and imposing figure.

Jake stopped a few steps away, looking at the scene with a mixed expression of relief and sadness.

The Overseer looked at him sideways, his voice deep and calm. "You have completed your mission, Jake. You made her fall in love. Not a ghost, but your true essence. Even when she hated you, even when she tried to deny it... she loved you."

Jake didn’t answer immediately, his eyes were fixed on you. He saw you kneeling, destroyed, and felt your heart clench in his chest. For a moment, he wondered if it was right to come to you.

Heeseung was the first to turn and notice Jake’s figure. His eyes widened in surprise, but a slow grin formed on his lips. -Well, well,- he muttered, with the tone of someone who had just seen a miracle.

Jay turned right after, his face lit with a look of admiration. 'Here he is, our hero,' he said, laughing quietly.

Hoon was the last to turn. For a moment, his gaze remained impassive, but then a crooked smile sprayed on his face. << You arrived just in time,> he said with a cold but smug tone.

You heard the whispers of the three and slowly raised your eyes, following their glances. When your eyes met those of Jake, time seemed to stand still. The tears that still wrinkled his face stopped halfway, and your breath was blocked.

"Jake..." He stepped forward, his face serious but lit up with a slight smile. 'Don’t cry anymore, Y/n,' he said, his voice as warm as never before.

"You... you did all this to me! You left me alone to suffer! I hate you, Jake! I hate you so much!"

Jake stood still as you slammed up, your fists clenched down your hips. Without thinking twice, you began to strike him in the chest, his blows strong as your hands trembled.

"I can’t stand the fact that you’re here now as if nothing had happened! You made me fall in love, you turned my life upside down, and then you left!"

You screamed, each word accompanied by a fist on Jake’s chest.

He let you do it. He said nothing, did not even move to stop you. He stood there, in silence, letting all his anger and your pain spill over to him. At last, when you began to give in, your hands slowed down, sliding against his chest, until they tensed the fabric of his shirt.

"I hate you... I hate you because I can’t stop loving you..."

Jake, without saying a word, wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you hard against him. His grip was firm, protective.

'Sorry," said Jake, his voice low but full of sincerity. "I’m sorry for making you suffer, for all the pain I’ve caused you. I never wanted to hurt you, but I can’t leave you. Not now.'

You let go of his arms and Jake lowered his face towards you, his warm breath against your skin. Then, with a slow and gentle movement, he took your face in his hands and kissed you.

The kiss was sweet, but full of all the passion, remorse, and love they had accumulated. For a moment, it seemed that the whole world was disappearing around them.

But a golden glow interrupted that moment. You turned and, to your surprise, you saw the soul of the grandmother that was slowly dissolving, wrapped in a warm and reassuring light.

"Grandma..." you murmured.

The figure of the grandmother smiled softly, her gaze full of love and pride. He approached you, touching your cheek with an ethereal hand, cold and warm at the same time.

"I’m proud of you," she said, her voice a whisper that seemed to come from every direction. "You’ve found someone who truly loves you. Someone worth fighting for."

"Grandma, don’t go..." whispered, but the figure of the woman smiled and shook her head slightly.

"It’s my time, baby. But yours... has just begun."

With a last smile, Grandma disappeared, leaving you there with Jake.

'She was right, you know,' he said with a slight smile. 'You have such a big heart, Y/n... and I’m the luckiest to have even a piece of it.'

He squeezed it hard at you and Jake closed his eyes and embraced you again, promising himself that he would never let you feel alone again.

Hee, Hoon, and Jay exchanged a look as they watched Jake and Y/n walk away hand in hand, an almost surreal image: a half-ghost and a human girl entangled in a love that seemed to defy all natural law. Jay puffed, leaning against a nearby tree, his usual ironic smile painted on his face.

'Who would have ever known, eh? Jake, our romantic hero,' he said with a laugh, shaking his head.

<< Ridiculous,>> Sunghoon replied, crossing his arms and looking away, his gloomy gaze that seemed to be digging into nothing. << It is nothing but a weakness. He is tying himself to something that will destroy him. >>

The grandmother of Y/n appeared not far away, still wrapped in that ethereal light. His gaze, however, was fixed on them, a funny smile that promised nothing good. She approached slowly, her words a whisper that seemed at the same time a command and a mockery.

"What about you three? Do you think you will be like this for eternity? Alone, bored, judging others as they move forward in life?"

Jay chuckled, Hee shrugged, but Hoon stood still, his icy gaze pointed at the woman

<< I need nothing, much less love,> said Hoon, in a low and sharp voice. <<Humans are weak. Love makes them even more fragile. And we are half dead, remember? There is nothing for us there. >>

The grandmother came even closer, staring at him with a keen curiosity. " Oh, Hoon," she said in a sweet, almost maternal tone, but that carried with it a hint of defiance. "Are you sure? Don’t you feel a bit jealous? Look at Jake and think there might be something more for you too?"

Hoon laughed, but the sound was bitter. << Jealous of what? To be bound to a fate that depends on an illusion? No, thank you.>>

"We’ll see," replied the grandmother with an enigmatic smile. "Love has strange ways of getting into even the coldest hearts." He turned to Hee and Jay, his smile becoming softer. "What about you? Will you just look?"

Jay raised his hands in surrender. 'Hey, don’t get me in the way. I’m fine like this. Let’s just let Hoon fight with his demons.'

Hee, becoming quieter, shook his head but said nothing.

The grandmother dissolved with a slight glow, leaving them alone in their solitude. Jay and Hee exchanged a glance, then they looked at Hoon, who seemed to be immersed in his thoughts.

<< Don’t say it either,>> said Hoon before Jay could open his mouth.

'I said nothing,' Jay replied, with a provocative grin.

Hoon sighed, annoyed, but his mind kept returning to the same question. There was something about seeing Jake and Y/n together that irritated him deeply. Not because he was jealous of Jake, but because a part of him hated the fact that love had found a way to insinuate itself into their broken existence.

But, out of sight, fate was already preparing its next move. Someone was about to enter Hoon’s life and who he had perhaps already met in a past life, someone who would upset his every belief. Not a simple or banal love, but something as dark and intense as him. And perhaps because of this, inevitable.

Taglist: @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @rikiscupid @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @m3wkledreamy @xylatox @ikeulove @nishikio @ancnymcnzjy @sofiafromvenus @kayjiguki

Comments and rebblog are appreciated

(I was able to finish it first:)

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sunboki · 11 months ago

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— MR. FIREFIGHTER.

Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. firefighter! au, neighbors! au, coincidences, power outage.. hehe

WARNINGS. cursing? chan being a firefighter bc HELLO

AUG'S NOTES. hi hi, ya’ll wanted more firefighter! chris? me too i gotcha

In a neighborhood like yours, power outages were common. But of course, with your luck just moving here, nobody paid any mind telling you.

Perhaps that’s the best explanation as to how you ended up at a strangers doorstep, your phone’s flashlight making the entire experience look a thousand times more pathetic the longer you shifted from foot to foot.

You’d been plugging in your charger, only for your entire bedroom to fall pitch black. Initially, you assumed it was simply a broker malfunction, leading to—after carefully hobbling out to the garage—a multitude of failed attempts to ensue.

About halfway from leaving does the front door open, and upon turning around are you met with a sight pitifully breathtaking.

Blond, messy hair rests atop a well sculpted face, masculine features on tanned skin, dark chocolate eyes belonging to that of the finest sweets.

“Hello?” He asks, voice thick with an accent you deem Australian.

“Oh yeah uh, the.. the power?” Winding your index around haphazardly, the man looks you up and down (an action that shouldn’t have brought such blood to your face), glancing around and wetting his lips before inviting you inside.

Sure, he may be a serial killer, but if that man strangled you, you’re not sure you’d be too upset. Shameless, but who disagreed?

Without a word nor greeting, he slinks into a small kitchen area, leaving you to curiously investigate your surroundings. You note the huge, beige boots by the doorway, the firefighter’s hat lingering on a coat hook.

And he’s a firefighter? Good fuck have mercy.

“‘Happens a lot,” The frustratingly attractive stranger grumbles as you enter the living area, candle-light illuminating the plushness of his lips. It takes you a moment to register he’s talking, too busy reigning yourself into a sane headspace.

He hands you a small mug of tea that’s warm to the touch, beckoning you to take a seat.

“And by the looks of it,” He laughs a low, bemused laugh. “You didn’t know that…?”

“Y/n, it’s Y/n.” You introduce, sipping the steaming beverage carefully.

“Scared?”

“Mm, little bit.” Truthfully answering, you scorn your bashfulness, hating how the way he’s merely looking at you disorients every sensible article of your brain.

Reaching forward, he fondly pats your head, eyes crinkling in the corners when smiling.

Just then you abandon all hope of remaining civilized.

“There’s nothin’ to be scared of, just light some candles ‘n wait it out. Plus, it’s good sleeping conditions.”

If he keeps talking you’re certain you’ll dig a human sized hole and bury yourself in it, because of course you had to knock on his door, him who you’ve become smitten with without even knowing his name.

Before you can apologize for likely waking him up, he interjects.

“But be careful with candles. ‘Don’t wanna start a fire.”

Recalling his firefighter status, you raise your brows, leaning back into the cushions.

“You’d save me, right Mr. Firefighter?”

Momentarily, surprise etches his face.

He grins.

“Nah I’d—”

You smack his arm and he laughs—a kind of laugh that makes the entire room burst alight.

“Of course I would. And It’s Chan by the way, but you can call me Chris.”

Already getting comfortable with conversation, you rest your chin upon your hand, studying.

His mannerisms (as much as his looks could kill) are rather adorable. They’re nervous, fiddling opposed to the career he chose.

A man with a deadly duality.

Charming.

“Oh? Nickname privileges?” You mischievously pique, witnessing that shyness once more.

He covers his face with his hands, dissolving into the couch, evidently embarrassed. The urge to continue becoming irresistible.

“Say, Chris, are you flirting with me?”

Peering through his fingers, Chris’ lips pull tug upward slightly, seeming to mirror your sly attitude.

“I don’t know, am I?”

Perhaps it’s your imagination, but his voice seriously just lowered a pitch and all ability to bite back has turned to dust. And now you can certainly say your feelings are justified, especially from his eyes. Brown hues boring into you, sending your heart a thundering mess.

No, no no, don’t say that. That’s not fair.

As if on cue the lights flash awake and you spring up from your place, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks.

Barely making it out the door before Chris pulls you back around, his hand loosely grasps your wrist, stuffing a piece of paper into your palm adorning that same stupid smile you’re effortlessly falling in love with.

Inside his number is written, and more than ever you feel like a teenage girl passing notes to her boyfriend in class.

“Just in case,” He claimed, clearing his throat as if that would magically cure his noticeably pink ears.

Take it back, you’re both teenage losers fighting to see who cracks first. Nervous wrecks, red faces.

“In case my house burns down?”

“That’s a plus, yep.”

“You’re awful.”

Chris, walking you up to your door despite being a mere foot away, giggles his delight, bidding you good night. But seconds before he turns around it’s your turn to be spontaneous, and you press a soft kiss to his cheek prior to racing inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Covering your mouth with your hands in order to suppress the utter squeal threatening to break your lungs, you feel seconds from physically imploding — ignorant to the fact that outside the door, Chris is currently doing the same thing.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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justmymindandstuff · 6 months ago

Text

Love doomed to fail - Jacaerys Velaryon x TargtowerReader (you)

summary: The divide between the blacks and the greens is deep. A final attempt to overcome the hostilities is the betrothal between Rhaenyra´s eldest son Jacaerys and Alicent's younger daughter. A constellation that is cursed from the start. Especially if your heart belongs to someone else. Or maybe not?

words: 14.427

relationships: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader // Aegon Targaryen x Reader (previously; implied)// Jacaery Valaryon x Baela Targaryen (previously; briefly mentioned)

warnings/ tropes: enemies to almost lovers to enemies, slow burn , arranged marriage, angst, swearing, insults, violence, bastard bashing, rape threats (brief), adult themes, sexual themes (not explicit), jealousy, Jace has angerissues, incest (obvious)

a/n: trying a new writing style with this// English is not my first language// no use of Y/N // not proofread // first time writing Jacaerys // AO3 //

this turned out a lot longer than I originally thought. And to be honest, I'm a little proud of it🙈. I had a lot more fun writing Jace than I thought I would. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.🧡

Have fun and be kind to eachother and yourself 🧡.

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Cold wind blows in Jacaerys face causing a teasing burn on his skin. His hands grip Vermax's reins tightly. The sun has barely risen on the horizon. Beneath him, on the restless sea, the ships of the Velaryon fleet are tossed back and forth in the waves.

The battle with the Trirachy is already in full swing. His little brother is on one of these ships. He has to save him. He has to destroy the enemy fleet to save his brother. The plan was to get Aegon and Viserys to safety. It had been his plan. He failed.

Now he has to win this battle. He must destroy the fleet to protect his brother. To win the war for his mother. The blockade must hold. He gives the command, Vermax turns towards the enemy fleet. Below him, the men caught up in the fight shouting orders.

Jacaerys's attention is drawn by a dark shadow above him. In the next moment, Vermithor breaks through the clouds. In that moment Jace knows he will die today.

Jace tugs at his shirt. The black silk is soft against his skin, yet he would rather tear the fabric apart. He feels uncomfortable. He doesn't want to be here. He wishes the black stones of Dragonstone would open up beneath his feet and he would disappear. But nothing like this happens. Instead, he stands next to his mother and watches as you walk up towards Dragonstone. Your ship is already turning in the harbor to sail back to King's Landing.

You only brought a few servants and maids. Your confidants. Jace knows that each of them is now under strict observation. His mother doesn't trust you at all.

Nevertheless, she smiles as you stand before them and sink into a perfect curtsy.

He recognizes the contemptuous look of your mother,Alicent Hightower, on your face. Your smile is perfect and false.

"Thank you for taking me into your home, dear sister." your voice is gentle, your words are kind. But it's all a lie. Everyone knows that's a lie. He heard the whispering. When your mother Alicent told you that you were to be sent to Dragonstone, its said that you have cursed and screamed. People said you had cried for two days and refused to leave your chambers. Jace wonders for a moment if the guards had to drag you to your ship.

Nevertheless, you stand here now. With a false smile and genuine pride. Your back straight. Dressed in the finest silk, green silk. Your long blonde hair in intricate braids. Gold jewelry in your strands that jingle with every step you take. Your purple eyes sparkle in the morning sun. You are the personified Targaryen beauty.

Jace can't help but admire your beauty. He allows it for exactly three heartbeats then he tries to raise his walls again. He swore to himself that he would never feel affection for you. But when you set your gaze on him and slightly lower your head in front of him, he doubts his vow to himself for a moment.

Jace really tried to be open to this betrothal. Since you two were little kids, you were engaged. You never accepted it for even a second. You hadn't even outgrown your nurserycambers when you loudly proclaimed in the courtyard that you would never marry a bastard. That you will never marry him.

Nevertheless here you are now. Send away from your family to marry him. Jace had negotiated a deal with his mother so he still has a little time before he has to marry you.

It's only fair. There was a different arrangement. Jace actually should have had two more years before the journey to the Red Keep for his funeral wedding. But things have changed. And that's your fault.

They were outsmarted. The enemy fleet has split up. Attack them from the north and south.

And they are accompanied by you on Vermithor.

None of them expected that. Spies and reconnaissance have reported that you are staying in the Red Keep with your sister Helaena to help her with her grief.

Jace should have never believed that. He knows you too well. He should have known that you wouldn't stay away from battle. He should have known that you would interfere. He failed again.

Jacaerys yanks Vermax around, out of the path of the Bronze Fury. His Dragon is too small to defeat Vermithor. He can´t do it alone.

But Jace still has a small glimmer of hope. He knows that Ulf and Addam are on their way.

Would the united strength of Vermax, Seasmoke, and Silverwing be enough to defeat you and your dragon? It has to be enough.

Jace is sneaking around outside the door to your chambers. Outside the keep he hears his brothers and stepsisters laughing. He wished he were with them now.

But his mother sent him to you. With a reminder of how important this marriage is for the family. So now he's lingering around your chambers, trying to muster the courage to knock on your door.

He sighs. That doesn't help at all.

He is a prince! The heir of his mother. One day he would be king and you will be his queen. He has to pull himself together. So he knocks on your door.

"Enter." your voice is gentle. You don't know that it's him standing at your door.

Jace enters your chambers and takes a quick look around. Nothing indicates that you have been living here for over a week. Nothing personal is lying around. Everything is tidy and seems unused. As if you were just here for a short visit and it wouldn't be worth unpacking your things. Presumably you hope that this is the case.

You sit at the desk and look at him with a cold gaze. You don't even show the respect to stand up for him. Letters lie before you.

Since you arrived, the ravens of Dragonstone have been busier than ever. Every day you send letters to your siblings and your mother. Daily, ravens arrive with answers.

Jace knows that each one of them is read by the Measter and his mother. So far, there doesn't seem to be anything unusual.

Do you know it too? Do you know that his mother is intruding so much into your privacy?

"What do you want?" you say with an annoyed voice. Jace gathers himself briefly before raising his voice.

"I wanted to inquire about your well-being. And ask if you have settled in well?" It sounds memorized and not serious. It's not meant seriously. He doesn't care whether you've settled in well. He doesn't want you here at all.

You snort disdainfully, not very princess like. "No, I haven't settled in." you say and turn back to your letters.

Frustration and anger rise within him. His hands clench into fists and he has to pause for a moment before he can speak again.

"I could show you the Keep a little. Maybe it will be easier for you to see it as your home then."

It's his mother's idea. Jace doesn't want to spend time with you. He wants to go to his siblings and fly over the surroundings on dragonback.

You jump up from your chair. Your dress is made of green silk, at always. The sun shines through the window behind you, making your skin glow warmly as you walk towards him. Jace becomes aware again of how beautiful you actually are. But he immediately pushes the thought aside. No! He doesn´t allow himself to think of you like that.

"This place." you make an expansive gesture with your hand. "Will never be my home! The Red Keep is my home." your voice is cold and full of hate. Hatred for him. And Jace can somehow understand it. He is the reason you are separated from your family. Although it's not entirely his fault, you also have your part in it. He refuses to take all the blame on himself. He forces himself to stay calm.

"I hope you change your mind. Dragonstone is not the Red Keep, but it has its advantages too. If you want, I can...

You interrupt him. "It's terrible here. I will never change my mind. I don´t want to be here, I don´t want to live here."

"It's your own fault that you have to be here already." he blurts out.

You pause, clench your jaw, and your eyes sparkle with such hatred towards him that Jace briefly fears you might claw his eyes out right here and now.

"I don't know what you mean." you lift your chin slightly. Liar. He wants to scream it in your face: Liar, liar, liar!

The rumors have reached Dragonstone. Rumors about the inappropriate relationship between you and your brother Aegon. Just the thought that his uncle has take his fiancée makes his skin crawl. It would suit both of you. You are unrestrained and rotten to the core. Just like all of Alicent's children. You take what you want. Whenever you wanted it. Best example is your brother Aemond, who stole Vhagar from Rhaena.

His gaze shifts to your necklace. The golden sun pendant lies on the pale skin of your décolleté. In Jace the urge to rip this necklace off your neck rises. He doesn't even need to ask you who you got this necklace from. Aegon is all over you. In your jewelry, on your clothes, green and gold is everywhere. You even have Sunfyre embroidered on a few of your dresses. Aegon has already claimed you as his. Although you rightfully belong to Jace. You are his fiancée! It makes Jace terribly angry.

He suppresses the urge to tear off your necklace and meets your hate-filled gaze with his own. "Then rot in your chambers. I don't care."

Vermax's frantic wingbeats makes Jacaerys nervous. He tries to calm his dragon, but he is also afraid. Vermax turns behind the fleet. Facing their enemys again. Jace lets his gaze glide over the battling ships. He searches for the lysian ship where his brother is supposed to be. If he manages to land Vermax onto it, he would be able to save his brother.

An arrow shoots past him just beside his head. The enemy ships have targeted him. He immediately makes Vermax climb higher into the sky, out of the line of fire.

Jace sees the large body of Vermithor flying over the Velaryon fleet below him. Two ships burst into flames beneath him.

You sit in the saddle, your long blonde hair blowing in the wind behind you. You turn your head and look up at him. You are too far away for Jace to see your face clearly. He expects you to summon Vermithor to attack him. To kill him. Instead, you make another round over the ships and set a few more on fire. The arrows from the scorpions, which have been set up on the ships of their fleet, don't seem to bother you. What is your plan? Why don't you attack him?

Are you so arrogant that you don't see him as a threat?

Can he use this arrogance to his advantage?

The stern look from his mother makes Jace shift his weight restlessly from one foot to the other. She is holding one of your letters in her hand.

"She begs Alicent to let her come home." Jace can hardly bear the disappointment in his mother's voice. "I asked you to make sure she feels comfortable here." It's an accusation. "Jace. You know how important this betrothal is. This marriage will reunite our separate houses into one. House Targaryen is only strong when it is united."

He has to suppress an annoyed groan. How many times has he heard that already?

"She doesn't want to feel comfortable here at all. She is unbearable."

Rhaenyra furrows her eyebrows. "Jace. You need this marriage. It is important for our house."

Jace knows exactly why the marriage to the Hightower daughter is important. It legitimizes him. It is supposed to cover up the rumors about his father. Jace knows that, you know that, his mother knows that. Even if she will never admit that his father is not Laenor. He wants to scream it in her face. Jace has to endure you as his fiancée and later wife because his mother has been lying with Harwin Strong. But instead, he swallows his anger and nods.

"I will try, Mother." he says.

She smiles gently at him and wants to say something more, but a knock stops her. Your letter is quickly hidden among other scrolls.

"Come in."

You enter the room. You don't give Jace a glance and simply turn to Rhaenyra.

"I wanted to ask if my siblings could come for a visit. Only for an afternoon?"

Jace notices how you try to hide the trembling of your hands. You are nervous.

"Our siblings are always welcome here. They don't need my permission to come visit us."

Your face immediately brightens. "Thank you, Rha… sister."

His thoughts are racing. He wished he had had more time to learn. More time to study more strategies, more battles, more tactics. Should he have listened to Daemon better?

Jace bitterly realizes how inexperienced he actually is.

But now is not the time to study. Now is the time to act.

"We can do this." he says, unsure if he is speaking to Vermax or to himself. His dragon lets out a high-pitched whistle. It sounds approving. Jacaerys gathers all his courage and lets Vermax fall down from the sky again. Directly towards Vermithor and you.

Jace is trying to please his mother and starts visiting you every day. It takes four days during which you repeatedly send him away with a biting voice and insults before you agree to take a walk with him. He managed to persuade you to take a walk outside the castle. The barren surroundings are not really interesting, and cold wind blows up from the sea. Catches in your blonde curls and your green dress.

The silence between you is suffocating and uncomfortable. Every attempt to start a conversation, you block with one word answers.

If only he could find something you both have in common. But he doesn't know you. Knows nothing about you at all. And you give him nothing. Uninterested, you walk by his side. You ignored his offered arm. You don't even look at him most of the time.

You frustrate him incredibly. He is really trying hard here. You have no interest whatsoever in him or in a happy life together with him.

Do you really believe that you can get out of this engagement? Maybe you hope that your brother will save you.

Just the thought of it makes Jace angry again. He takes a deep breath. Jacaerys tries once more with conversation.

"What do you usually do in the Red Keep?"

"Different things." you don't even give him a glance.

Jacaerys would like to scream. Or take you and shake sense into you. Why are you making it so difficult for both of you?

You shiver slightly as the cold wind blows around your ears. He doesn't know if it's his upbringing, his sense of duty, or just his character, but he follows his first impulse and takes off his cloak to drape it over your shoulders.

"Are you out of your mind?" you snap at him and push him away lightly. His hands clutch angrily at the fabric of his cloak. He just wanted to help. Fine then freeze, he thinks bitterly

You turn away from him. Jace considers for a moment whether to simply go back or call Vermax to him and fly away. It would certainly humiliate you if he would let you standing here all alone.

"Dragons" you hear a voice from one of the Guards of Dragonstone. Immediately, both of you turn around as well.

On the horizon, three approaching shadows can be seen. Vhagar, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre. At the sight, your eyes begin to sparkle and a radiant smile appears on your face. Jace has never seen you so happy. For the first time he sees you smile honestly and fuck you can smile so beautifully.

You spin around and take off running. Just leaves Jace standing there. He suppresses his anger slightly and then follows you. You eagerly await the dragons on one of the cliffs of the island.

Jacaerys stopps a few steps away from you.

Sunfyre is the first dragon to land. Aegon jumps off even before Sunfyre touches the ground, and immediately you both run towards each other and fall into each other's arms. Dreamfyre lands as well, and when Vhagar touches the ground, the earth trembles slightly. Your other siblings also quickly climb down from their dragons. You greet them no less enthusiastically. A few tears run down your cheek. Helaena is crying too.

A bad conscience creeps up on him. He is the reason why you are separated from your siblings. But when he sees Aegon carefully wiping the tears from your cheek, that hot feeling burns under his skin again. He remembers all the rumors that his mother wanted to keep away from him. Of course, he heard them all anyway. Baela gladly spilled everythin she had heard.

Alicent's children are completely ignoring him and he feels a little stupid standing aside. Maybe he should just go back. He is so different from them that it is difficult to recognize from the outside that they are actually all one family.

All four siblings are dressed in green, very Hightowerlike. Nevertheless, with their blonde hair, purple eyes, beautiful faces, and proud demeanor, they look much more like Targaryens than he and his brothers do.

"I brought you something," says Aegon, unbuckling a box from Sunfyre's saddle.

Jace rolls his eyes. Expecting another piece of jewelry with a golden sun. But when you open the box, soil and a few small green plants come into sight. Your eyes begin to sparkle and you beam at your brother.

"They have grown." you turn to Jace. For the first time since your arrival, you speak to him directly. "Before I had to leave the Keep, I planted a few new flowers in my garden. I thought they would die because I couldn´t take care of them." you explain. You have never spoken to him so gently. It seems you just realized that too, you blink in surprise and then simply turn back to your siblings.

"We took care of it," says Aemond.

"Thank you." again you smile your beautiful smile again. Jacaerys doubts you'll ever give him that kind of smile. "Let's go to the keep, I'm cold."

Your siblings agree with you. Aegon holds out his arm for you and you take it without hesitation. Then you hold out your hand to Helaena. For a moment, Jace thinks your sister would be angry at your open affection for her husband, but she just smiles happily and takes your hand. You and your siblings walk past Jace. Jealousy burns in his stomach at the sight of you leaning close to Aegon. Aemond gives him a disdainful look as he passes. Jacaerys watches you for a moment before following at a distance. He feels excluded and lonely. And then he realizes that you've probably felt the same way since you arrived here.

Vermithor and you are still busy setting the ships on fire. As Jacaerys quickly approaches, he can feel the heat of the flames. Vermax breathes fire without needing to be commanded. He aims directly at you. Jace knows that the flames of his younger dragon will not affect the Bronze Fury. But they will affect you. He can aim at you. He can kill you. Even if it's the last thing he does.

But Vermithor is experienced in battle. He senses the danger and turns his large body before the flames can reach you. Instead, the flames graze the skin of his wings. He lets out an angry growl.

You whirl around as the flames shoot past you. Now Jace is close enough to see your expression. Consumed by rage, you look up at him.

Jace's hands ache slightly as they slowly thaw again. Even his gloves couldn't shield him from the cold wind. Nevertheless, he would have preferred to fly on Vermax's back for hours longer. But it is time for his lessons. And before that he wants to quickly see his little brothers.

His steps lead him through the familiar halls of Dragonstone to the nursery. He opens the door and stops at the sight that greets him. A gentle song drifts through the room. Aegon and Viserys sit on a soft blanket in front of the fireplace. Their maid sits at the edge and is embroidering something. Next to his little brothers, you sit and watch over them. While little Viserys is completely focused on his wooden dragon, Aegon looks at you in adoration. You sing with a beautiful, gentle voice for his little brother, a soft smile on your face. Jace didn't even know that you were capable of smiling like that.

With him, you still block any attempt he makes to get to know you. Gods, you have even started to slowly befriend his stepsisters. Of course, neither Baela nor Rhaena are sure whether your friendliness is genuine or if you are still resentful because they are to blame for your brother losing an eye. Maybe you have finally understood that they were all just defending themselves against Aemond?

Nevertheless, they are trying to build a friendship. After all, they will soon be a family. Actually, they already are, but Jace feels that the rift between the Hightower children and them is so big that no one currently considers them as one family.

Your voice is gentle and weaves him in. It is a valyrian song, an old song. He doesn't know it. While you sing, he realizes that he is missing some words for an accurate translation. But the melodies you sing immediately dispel his frustration about it.

"Jay jay." Viserys' voice pulls him out of his trance. You also look up at him. You seem to notice him only now. Your song immediately falls silent. He wants to beg you to keep singing. He doesn´t do it and instead goes to his little brother. He kneels beside him and takes him in his arms. You watch him closely, your smile has disappeared, your jaw is tense again.

"Hey little one. Are you well?" he is not looking at you but at his brother. He wonders what you are doing here. What do you care about his little siblings?

Without a word, you stand up and leave the room. Aegon watches sadly as you leave, and Jace feels guilty because he drove you away.

"Did you have fun with the princess?" asks Jace.

"She always sings for us," Aegon replies, his speech still not quite clear but understandable. Viserys mostly just babbles nonsense that Jacaerys doesn't quite understand.

"Really?" he asks in surprise. He didn't know that. How could he? You still don't speak more than five words a day with him.

Aegon nods and smiles at him. He leans forward and begins to whisper. "She smells good. And she's pretty too."

Jace has to suppress a laugh but agrees with his little brother. "I know." he sighs.

That's exactly his problem. Your beauty attracts him. But that can´t be. He forbids himself to accept this. If you weren't so beautiful, it would be easier for him to handle your constant rejection.

Although there's a second problem. You are also damn smart. Your mind is sharp and quick. His mother had hired a new teacher. A philosopher and scholar trained at the Citadel in Oldtown. You had a lively discussion with him just a few days ago. You not only speak perfect High Valyrian, but also almost all dialects. Presumably even more languages. Rhaena had told him that you told her that you used to secretly read books from Asshai before your mother took them away from you.

It frustrates him. He would prefer to get this information directly from you. He is annoyed that he only gets all his information about you second-hand. He wishes you would open up to him.

Not just because his mother encourages him to do so. If he can win you over, then maybe your future together won't be as terrible as it might seem now.

At the same time, you're driving him crazy. One snarky comment from you is enough and his anger explodes under his skin. He has never reacted to anyone as quickly and as extremely as he has to you. You are unbearable.

Perhaps his hatred is strong enough to overcome his attraction to you?

He stays with his siblings for a moment longer before he really has to head off to his lessons. He arrives late. The master scolds him. Jace can hardly concentrate. Again, he gets scolded. But his thoughts are constantly revolving around something else.

Why are you spending your time with his little brothers?

What's behind it?

What are you planning?

Are you dangerous to the two little ones?

Did your mother gave you instructions to injure the two?

No, that can't be. Rhaenyra still checks every letter that comes in and every letter that goes out. If there were even the slightest suspicion that you posed a danger to Viserys or Aegon, Daemon would have fed you to Caraxes without hesitation.

Nevertheless, he finds no peace and finds himself at your chamber door in the evening. He knocks and enters without waiting for a response.

"Are you out of your mind!" you snap at him before the door behind him closes. Jacaerys hesitates and for a second he forgets why he came here.

You have already changed for the night. A fine, white nightgown envelops your curves. Your long hair falls in gentle waves over your shoulders. Your lips are slightly reddened from the wine you drank.

Fuck, you're even more beautiful like that as you are when you're all dressed up and adorned with jewelry.

"What do you want here?" your voice trembles with anger. You jumped up from the chair by the fireplace and are now standing in the room with your arms crossed. You probably don't notice that you are pushing up your breasts a little so that they almost spill out of your dress. But of course, you notice his inappropriate gaze on the curves of your breasts. The book you were reading before he entered hits him hard on the shoulder and then falls to the ground.

"Ouch! Are you crazy?" Jacaerys is pulled from his stupor. Jacaerys is torn from his stupor. His cheeks turn red.

"You look at me like a cow at the market! It's inappropriate that you are here so late," you say.

Jacaerys wants to explain himself, but in the next moment, you call for a guard. It takes no more than two heartbeats, and the door opens, and one of the guards from Dragonstone steps in.

"My Prince. Princess. Is there a problem?"

"Your prince is badgering me!"

Shocked, he stares at you. You didn't really just say that, did you? His jaw tightens. The guard looks at Jacaerys.

"My prince?" he begins. Jace can tell that he is overwhelmed by the situation.

"It's all right. The princess is just joking. Leave us alone," he commands, the guard obeys and leaves.

You stare after the guard with a shocked expression. Suddenly, something shifts in you. You swallow and blink a few times as you take a step back from Jace. You reach behind you for your morning robe and put it on. Jace sees that you feel uncomfortable. He feels bad. He just made it very clear to you that you have no power here. Not even in your own chambers. You feel vulnerable and unprotected and he forced you into this situation. He wants exactly the opposite He wants you to feel comfortable. Here on Dragonstone and with him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare," he begins, looking you in the face. He forces his gaze to stay glued to your eyes. He has the need to explain himself. "It's just" he begins, falters, and notices his cheeks turning red. He can no longer hold your gaze and instead looks out the window behind you. Outside, it's pitch black; he can only see his own reflection in the glass. Screw it. It doesn't matter anymore. He can´t deny it any longer. "You are very beautiful."

Every other maiden here would have probably shyly lowered her eyes and whispered a "thank you" with flushed cheeks at his words. After all, he is a prince.

You don't. You snort contemptuously and whisper a valyrian curse under your breath that he doesn't know. Contempt lingers in your voice.

"What do you want here?" you ask again.

Jacaerys hesitates for a moment longer and regrets having come here. But it's about his brothers.

"Why do you visit my brothers so often?"

Confused by his question, you look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Aegon told me you sing for the two."

"Is that forbidden?" your tone is sharp and makes Jace angry again.

However, if he starts shouting now, he would ruin everything.

"No, I just want to know the reason."

You study his expression closely, then your posture tenses up a little more and you shake your head slightly while disbelief is reflected in your eyes.

"They are children. I wish him no harm." your voice is so cold that an unpleasant shiver runs down Jacaerys' spine.

"I didn't mean it like that," he begins. He has to explain himself now. He wants to explain to you that you are misjudging him. But do you do that? He thought that you would harm his brothers. Where does this mistrust come from?

But before he can even sort out his thoughts, the door opens again. His mother enters the room next to her your guard.

"What's going on here?" she asks.

"Is here no privacy? These are my private chambers. Get out of here! Everyone." you suddenly yell.

Jacaerys is shocked by your disrespect towards his mother, the heir to the throne. Rhaenyra also needs a moment to regain her composure but then she smiles and sighs.

"You're right. I'm sorry, sister. We'll leave you alone now. Jace come." she apologizes instead of getting angry.

Jace can hardly believe his own ears. But then he follows his mother outside like a beaten dog.

In the hallway, his mother whirls around again, now the infamous Targaryenanger on her face. "We brought her here so early because of rumors! Don't be the reason there are new rumors!"

That's not what happend! His jaw tenses again, his hands clench into fists. He closes his eyes to calm himself down for a moment. But the image of your perfect curves under the thin fabric of your nightgown appears in his mind's eye. A strange mixture of lust and anger rises up inside him. You are driving him completely crazy. He quickly opens his eyes again. Jace wants to scream. Instead, he apologizes to his mother and turns around to go back to his chambers.

Vermax turns past the larger dragon, he is more agile and faster than your beast. He manages to create enough distance between you with quick wingbeats before Vermithor could turn around with a sluggish movement. The flames that burst from Vermithor's throat do not reach him. But the heat they radiate hits his neck painfully.

Jacaerys don´t see you for the next few days. Baela tells him that you are angry with him. Jace can't change that now. You made it very clear that you hate him. So he hates you too. At least during the day, he talks himself into it. He joins Luke in gossiping about you. All day long, he curses about how unbearable you are and that he doesn't want to marry you.

At night in his dreams, he can't lie. Almost every night, you haunt him in his dreams. They are inappropriate dreams that his horny teenage brain comes up with. Every morning he is rock hard when he wakes up. You really drive him crazy. Nevertheless, he can't resist and lets his dreams unfold before his inner eye while his hand slips under the blanket.

Afterwards, he feels better, but also guilty. He knows that you would burst with anger if you knew he thought of you like that. You would never consent. He feels bad. Still, he can't help it.

The conflict inside him is tearing him apart. Makes him tense. He notices his thin skin. Jace has to pull himself together and not shout at everyone.

When he returns to his chambers that evening to retire for the night, he can hardly believe his eyes.

You are sitting in one of the armchairs in front of his fireplace. The fire is burning. When he enters, you look up. You don't smile. Why should you? Nevertheless, this time there is no hatred in your eyes.

Jacaerys feels insecure in his own chambers. He lays down his cloak and sword and remains standing in the room. He doesn't say a word, even though his gaze is glued to you. He would prefer to sit down with you, but that feels inappropriately familiar to him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks in a calm voice. He doesn't want to argue with you again.

You hesitate for a moment. You stand up and smooth the skirt of your dress. The dark green silk appears almost black in the gentle light of the flames. Jace forbids himself from letting his gaze wander over your body. He looks you in the face. Not a single emotion can he see there.

Had your mother taught you to hide your emotions and thoughts behind a mask? He knows nothing about your childhood in the Keep. And yet, you will be his wife in just a few moons.

You exhale audibly, but when you speak, your voice is calm. Almost friendly.

"I wish no harm to your little brothers. I understand why you might think that. It's just, they remind me of my nephews. I miss them very much."

At the mention of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, warmth creeps into your voice and a sad sparkle appears in your eyes. Jace blinks and it is gone.

Your words calm him down. Although he is quite sure that he never really thought that you were endangering his brothers. It had just been a thought that had come to him.

Your explanation, however, also confuses him a little. And because he is not as controlled as you, you can probably read his emotions on his face.

"Doesn't that suit you?" you ask. Your voice is sharp again. Jacaerys has to be careful about what he says now, he knows that. He briefly organizes his thoughts before he begins to speak.

"It surprises me that you miss your nephews."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Why? Because I'm such a bad person that I can't even love my family?"

Gods he hates it when words are put in his mouths. He certainly didn't mean to imply that. His voice is a bit louder, but he tries to keep himself in check.

"No. I just didn't think." he interrupts himself because he knows that his next words will lead to an argument. "It's not important."

But your posture is already tense, your eyes narrowed as your gaze pierces him. Jace feels as if the air around you vibrates with your anger.

Fuck, why do you look so good when you're angry?

"Speak your mind," you urge him. Don´t allow any objections. So he gives in.

"I didn't think you really liked your nephews. After all, they are the children of your sister with your lover."

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing?" you shout angrily. Your voice shoots up a few octaves. You feel attacked. Your gaze flickers to the side. "Aegon is not my lover."

Jace lets out a frustrated sigh. "Stop lying," he demands. Why can't you be honest with him? You need to be honest if your marriage should work out even in the slightest.

"I'm not lying! Such accusations are treason. I should write to my father, the king, so that he cuts out your tongue."

You both know that Viserys would never do that. Not to him. Not for you. Your expression becomes blank, even the anger disappears from your eyes as you raise your walls and put on your mask.

Just the sight of your emotionless face and the fact that you have such good control over yourself, much better than he have over himself, lets him explode. The anger burns hot through his entire body. You just don't want to be honest with him. Jace feels like he's running into a wall with every one of your conversations.

"It's not treason if it's the truth."

You huff disdainfully and shake your head. "I am a virgin and I will remain one for the rest of my life." you raise your chin and look at him challengingly. Now you're just being childish.

Annoyed Jacaerys groans. "You will be my wife. The queen of the seven Kingdoms. We will share a bed. It is your duty to the realm and to me," he states. You both know that he is right. You remain stubborn.

"You will have to rape me if you want to claim your right as a husband! I will never willingly lie with a bastard like you!" you scream at him.

All the anger and frustration of the last few days with you, with himself, with the situation, rises up inside him. The hot anger in him makes him see red. He takes the few steps towards you. Startled, you step back, slamming your back against the wall. He enters your personal space. He towers over you. You look at him in shock.

"Get away from me." you try to push im away but he is stronger than you.

"You will be my wife! Completely and entirely. And if I have to rape you for it, then so let it be."

You raise your hand to slap him in the face, but he catches it. You contort your face in pain, and he immediately loosens his grip. You swallow and he notices your slight trembling. In your eyes, there is no longer hatred but fear. Immediately, Jace is overcome with guilt. What is he doing here? That's not how he is. That's not how he wants to be.

Quickly, he takes a step back, lets go of your hand, and looks at you apologetically. "I'm sorry," he says to you. His voice trembles.

Confused, you stare at him, your mouth slightly open. Your hand, which he had held in his, falls to your side.

Jace turns around and simply leaves his own chambers. He didn't want to argue with you, but somehow that's the only thing you two are good in. Screaming, arguing, cursing.

You bring out this side of him. You make him like that. He hates it. He hates you. But gods, he can´t stay away from you. This marriage will be an absolute horror for both of you.

You let Vermithor realign himself. Vermax has to dodge another crossbow bolt but gets grazed on his wing. Jace feels as if it were cutting through his own skin.

Below him, he hears the screaming soldiers who are still trying to destroy the enemy fleet. Behind him, he hears the flapping of your dragon's wings. You are getting closer quickly.

Jacaerys knows that he can't fly away from you forever. He doesn't have to. Only until reinforcements arrive.

Jace watches as Sunfyre approaches the castle courtyard in slow, circling movements. The sunlight catches in the dragon's pink wings and is reflected by the golden scales. He looks as if he were cast from pure gold. Aegon moves skillfully in the saddle. You sit in front of him, skillfully keeping yourself in the saddle. You've ridden with Aegon several times before, it's obvious. The wind blows through your blonde hair. You look like a perfect Targaryen couple. Happy.

Jace could puke because of his jealousy towards his uncle.

He is jealous of the beauty of his dragon.

He is jealous of his connection to you.

When Sunfyre lands in the castle courtyard, Jace also steps into the yard. He has been waiting for hours for both of you to return.

Aegon picked you up this morning, he showed up without any notice and took you away. Jacaerys would have preferred to stop him. But he doesn't have the right to do that.

Not yet, whispers a voice in his head. But even after your marriage, he would never tear you away from your brother. Jace is indeed jealous but not cruel.

His uncle slips off his dragon and then helps you down. His hands are on your hips as he catches you and spins you through the air. You laugh. You laugh honestly, openly, and happily.

The jealousy burns beneath Jace's skin. He has to open and close his trembling fist a few times to calm himself down.

He clears his throat loudly. Tears Aegon and you out of your world. Immediately, you both tense up. Aegon straightens up a little, makes himself taller and stands close to your side, throwing daggers with his eyes at Jace. Now he knows where you learned that kind of look.

"Can I talk to you?"he asks and ignores his uncle.

"Talk."

"Private."

"You can speak open in front of Aegon. I would have told him every word anyway."

Jacaerys takes a deep breath. He really doesn't want to discuss this in front of Aegon. But this is your punishment for him. This little humiliation. So he endures it and begins to speak.

"I have to apologize to you. Yesterday was absolutely inappropriate. I shouldn't have said such terrible things. I shouldn't have threatened you. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Also for hurting you. I don't know what came over me. I promise you … I swear to you and before all the gods that I will never force you into my bed and I will never hurt you again like I hurt you yesterday." He means every word he says. And he hopes you believe him.

Your expression remains unchanged. You look at him for a moment. Then you nod slightly. "I accept your apology." you don't say anything more.

Silence spreads across the courtyard. Aegon is the first to move. He takes a step closer, leaning forward, his breath brushing Jace's ear as he begins to speak.

"If you touch her against her will, I will find out. I will hunt you down even if I have to fly to the ends of the earth. I will slice you open from head to toe, then I will feed you your own bowels." his voice is quiet but dark. His gaze so steely and the description so graphic that Jace has to shudder and can only nod. He is sure that Aegon means every word.

Aegon gives him a false smile before turning to you. He pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead. You whisper a few words that Jacaerys can't hear before Aegon climbs onto his dragon and disappears.

You watch him until you can no longer see him. Then you go inside without another word.

In the evening, you show up to the family dinner. But even there, you don't say a word to Jace. Instead, your attention is divided between Baela and Viserys, who is sitting on your lap.

For a second, Jace imagines what it would look like if you were sitting at the table with your child of your own. His and yours. At the thought his heart stumbles over two beats. Then he thinks about the fact that you hardly talk to him and that you certainly cannot raise a child together in peace.

Before dessert, his mother clears her throat to get the attention. "I don't think it's good for Aegon to keep visiting you," she addresses you directly.

Your smile immediately slips from your face. "What?" you ask. "But you said my siblings can visit us anytime."

"Our siblings, yes. Aegon not. It doesn't make a good impression. You know why." Rhaenyra's tone is stern.

Tears glisten behind your eyes and you struggle to maintain your composure.

The sight tugs at Jacaerys heart. His words come out of his mouth without him really thinking about it.

"That's a bad idea, Mother. He is her brother. Why separate the two? Wouldn't it just provoke everything even more, make it worse?"

His mother and you both look at him in shock.

Rhaenyra because she never thought he would stand against her in this matter.

You because you never thought he would stand by your side.

Silence spreads, but then his mother shakes her head. "No. I have decided it. I will send Aegon a letter tomorrow."

"I can't even send him letters anymore?" you snap angrily. "You read everything I write anyway."

Rhanyra's face tenses. "That's enough now. Eat your dessert."

You stand up. Your chair makes a disgusting noise as it scrapes across the stone floor. "Fuck your dessert. I'm not hungry anymore."

"More respect for your sister," Daemon suddenly interjects. You give him one of your dagger looks that Jace usually gets.

"Why should I?" you then ask with a cold, arrogant voice. "I hate you. I hate it here." you throw at Rhaenyra and run out of the room. For a second, there is dead silence in the room. Then Jacaerys surprises himself and everyone present as he stands up and follows you.

He finds you in your chambers. You are sitting on the floor in front of a wooden box full of earth. The small plants that your brother brought from Kings Landing have barely grown and their heads are hanging down.

Your face is buried in your hands and he hears you sobbing.

The sound makes his skin crawl and his heart ached. He hesitates for a moment. Then he walks over to you and sinks down onto the floor beside you. He doesn't touch you. He doesn't know if that would be appropriate. You sob a few more times. Then you turn your head to him. He expects you to yell at him, to curse him out. You do nothing of the sort. Instead, you wipe your tears from your cheek.

"Thank you for standing up for me." your voice is just a whisper. So quiet that he isn't sure if he didn´t imagined it. He nods because he doesn't really know what to say. He can't look you in the tear-streaked eyes, so he looks around your chambers. His gaze lingers on the sad flowers in the flowerbed. He notices your gaze on him.

Silence spreads. It's almost uncomfortable. Then you speak again.

"They don't grow well here. It's too cold."

Jace has no idea about gardens, flowerbeds, or flowers, so he just nods.

Vermithor has caught up with him. His mouth snaps at Vermax, but the smaller dragon manages to dodge. Glides under the neck of the larger one. Jace hears your angry scream because you missed him. He has to duck so the sharp claws of the bronze-colored one don't slice his face. Vermax flies down, but Vermithor's gigantic wingbeats disturb the air so much that his dragon is thrown off balance and stumbles. Cold fear runs through Jace. His hands grip the saddle as he struggles to keep his balance while being thrown through the air.

Suddenly, Vermithor throws his head to the side and roars loudly. You and Jace both turn around. Seasmoker and Silverscale arrive. Exactly at the right moment. Jacaerys breathes out in relief.

You don't yell at each other anymore. You hardly talk to each other anymore. But at least you no longer avoid Jace. Most of the time, he sees you in the nursery.

You sit with Viserys and Aegon every day. You play with them. You sing for them or read to them.

Jace usually sits in an armchair by the edge of the fireplace, watching his siblings and you.

Aegon idolizes you. He has a crush on you, that's for sure. Jace can't blame him for it. He can understand his little brother.

If you were to sing especially for him with your gentle voice, Jacaerys's heart would probably explode. But you don't sing for him, and he doesn't ask if you could do it.

Your songs are a bit sad now. You are sad. It makes Jace sad too to see you like this.

You don't say a single word to Rhaenyra anymore. Even if she addresses you directly, you just turn your head to her and remain silent until she says what she wants from you or simply gives up.

Jace knows that his mother is holding back Aegon's letters to you. He also knows that every time Aemond or Helaena arrives on Dragonback, they smuggle letters from Aegon for you.

He doesn't say a word to anyone. He gives you and your siblings space.

Jacaerys has an idea of how to cheer you up and he has already taken the first steps. It didn't take much to convince Baela to help him with Moondancer. You both have built a real friendship.

The conversation with Aegon and Aemond was humiliating, but he does it for you. So your brothers helped.

His mother is to blame for your unhappiness. Jacaerys feels responsible. And maybe you would give him a smile.

It is a warm afternoon when everything is ready.

He hesitates as he stands in front of your door. Nervously, he shifts from one foot to the other. He feels like an idiot. Still, he knocks.

"Come in."

Jace opens the door. You look at him in surprise. He rarely comes to your chambers anymore. He gives you space.

"I have something for you," Jace begins before he can change his mind. Skeptically, you raise an eyebrow. "Actually two things." he reaches into his cloak pocket and pulls out a letter. It was Aegon's condition for his help. Jace had to smuggle letters.

"What is that?" you ask, but you walk over to him. Your curiosity is written all over your face.

"A letter from Aegon."

Immediately, you snatch the letter from his hand. "Where did you get that from?"

"I was in King's Landing."

Surprised, you look up from the letter to him. "Why?"

"I picked something up. The second thing I got for you. Do you want to see it?"

You look from him to the letter in your hands. You think for a moment. Then you set the letter aside and nod. "Yes."

He opens the door for you, and you walk side by side through the halls of Dragonstone. He leads you to the north wing and down the stairs. The closer you get to the volcano, the warmer it becomes. You start to look around curiously. Jace knows that you are not interested enough in the castle to explore it. These corridors are unfamiliar to you. In front of an inconspicuous door, he stops.

"Are we there?" you ask skeptically.

"Yes." Jacaerys takes another deep breath and then opens the door.

You look past him into the room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Jace had emptied the entire room. Instead, he had it filled with soil. But not the barren soil of Dragonstone. He flew all the way to King's Landing just to get the soil from there. And since he was already there, he took your flowerbeds with him. Now your flowers are blooming in this warm room. The castle's complex ventilation system has various shafts that lead through the walls to the outside. It took a while, but Jace found a room that even lets in sunlight.

"My garden," you say in shock. Your voice trembles as you look at him. Tears shimmer in your eyes. Jace's heart sinks. Did he make it worse? You don't like it.

But then a smile appears on your lips. It is your radiant, genuine, cheerful smile. He longed for you to give him exactly that smile. You take a step forward and hug him. For a second, he freezes. Then he carefully wraps his arms around you. Warmth spreads through his body. He could hold you like that forever. But after just a few seconds, you flinch back.

"Thank you, really Jace. Thank you. This means so much to me."

It's the first time you don't call him Jacaerys or Bastard. He never wants to hear his full name from your lips again.

Jace smiles slightly and hopes you don't notice that his feelings are currently a rollercoaster.

"Gladly. I'll leave you alone with your garden then."

"Wait."

He turns back to you, do you want him to stay here with you? That you spend time together?

"Can you show me the way up again? I wasn't paying attention and I'm bad with directions."

He tries not to be too disappointed. Jace nods and you both go back up the stairs together. This time, you focus on the path.

"You might not need to draw me a map," you admit quietly. Jace has to laugh briefly, and to his surprise and joy, you laugh with him. At least he learned something new about you today. You're bad with directions.

Addam nods to Jace, and hope begins to blossom inside him once more. Seasmoker dives into the enemy fleet below them. Jace turns Vermax away from Vermithor and seeks shelter behind Silverwing. Jace catches a glimpse of your face and realizes that you are afraid. You are not as confident in your victory anymore.

Yes, your dragon is bigger. But Silverwing is older. And they outnumber you three to one.

You should run. It would be the wisest to run now and come back with Aemond and Vhagar. Jace knows you won't run. You are far too stubborn to give up. To admit defeat. This would only end when one of you is dead.

You are sitting in the small garden that Jace had created for you. Your flowers bloom around you, and you smile at the sight of the colorful blossoms.

"Helaena and I had always sit in the garden for hours. I always plant the flowers that attract insects"

"You want to attract insects?" he makes a disgusted face. You look at him and suddenly laugh. It is not your scornful, contemptuous laughter. It is a warm, honest laugh. His heart skips a beat for a second only to then beat twice as fast again. You have never smiled at him so honestly.

"Hels is completely fixated on the little crawler. You should hear how much she can say about each insect."

Helaena has always been just a strange girl to him. She speaks in riddles and always seems to be with her thoughts somewhere else. Jace can't imagine that she talks about insects for hours.

"I miss them very much. All my siblings." Jace feels guilty again. But before he can say anything, you stand up. "Come on, let's go back up."

You start walking and he follows you like a puppy. Every day he goes down to your garden with you. Sometimes you are silent, sometimes not. You often have long, pleasant conversations or interesting discussions. Jace enjoys these moments. He admires your mind as much as your looks. He can no longer deny it. You have him wrapped around your finger. He is completely infatuated in you. And you didn't even had to try.

You walk so close beside him that your fingertips lightly brush against each other. Jacaerys hopes that in the coming days he will have enough courage to hold your hand.

Your path leads you out of the castle over the fortress walls. Cold wind blows up from the sea towards you. You shiver slightly.

Jacaearys' hands wander to the clasp of his cloak, but he hesitates.

"Do you want my cloak?" he then asks. You look at him from the side, nodding hesitantly. He takes off his cloak and drapes it over your shoulders. The dark red doesn't quite match the green of your dress. Nevertheless, you look beautiful. Jacaerys is sure that even dressed in rags, you still will be stunningly beautiful.

"It suits you well."

You roll your eyes, but a gentle smile rests on your lips. Your gaze sweeps across the sky, over the sea where Luke is currently flying a round with Arrax. Your gaze becomes sad.

"Do you miss flying?" Jace guesses.

"A little," you reply. "Sounds weird because I don't have my own dragon."

"Why don't you fly with Aemond or Helaena?" he asks. It would be the logical consequence. You shake your head slightly, he notices how your shoulders tense up a bit. Your reaction is strange, it doesn't quite fit

A nervous feeling spreads within him. He notices a tingling under his skin and a burning in his stomach. Are you only flying with Aegon? He thinks of the familiarity he observed when you were flying with Sunfyre.

He wishes for that between you and him. But Aegon is hanging over you. Would your fly with him and Vermax?

"I can fly with you on Vermax if you want." the suggestion slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. In the next second, he realizes that he is testing you right now. He curses himself for it. You owe him nothing at all. He shouldn't expect anything from you.

"Your little dragon?" you laugh "No thanks."

Maybe you meant it as a joke. Maybe you were serious. He doesn't care. He feels attacked and immediately goes on the counterattack. He doesn't think and speaks out of anger.

"At least I am worthy of a dragon."

"What did you say?" immediately, hot anger burns in your eyes. Jace's gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips for a second. Then he pulls himself together again.

He wants to apologize to you. He knows that he shouldn't have said that. It is certainly hard to be the only one of your siblings not to have a dragon bound to you. Nevertheless, he says, "You understood me."

"Bastard," you spit in his face, turn around, and storm away. But you are not fast enough. He saw the tears in your eyes. Immediately, Jace felt guilty. Damn it! He wants to apologize. But he is too stubborn so he went into the other direction. You avoid him for the rest of the day. He deserves it.

He wakes up from the loud calling. Confused, he sits up in his bed. Outside, it is still pitch dark. Are they being attacked? No. Of course not. Who would dare to attack Dragonstone? No one is that foolish. Nevertheless, the voices outside sound nervous. Jace climbs out of his bed. He puts on a shirt and his coat, then steps out into the hallway. He quickly runs to his mother's chambers. She is already coming towards him with Daemon by her side.

"Mother, what happened?"

"Come with me," she replies in a serious voice. The three walk to the castle courtyard, the black night is illuminated by the moon and torches.

His mother looks up and Jace follows her gaze. He can't see anything in the darkness at first. But then a shadow appears in front of the moon.

He recognizes a dragon. Too big for Seasmoke. Maybe Silverwing? The shadow grows larger as it approaches.

But only when the giant body glides over the walls of Dragonstone does Jace realize that it is Vermithor. It is unusual for him to fly through the night. He lives reclusively in Dragonmont.

The bronze fury lands in the castle courtyard in front of them. The ground trembles beneath his body. Jace steps back in shock. He hears the dragon keepers calling excitedly.

Vermithor throws his large head to the side and then Jace sees you. Proudly, you sit on the dragon's back.

You swing out of the saddle and slide down his wing as if you had been doing it your whole life. You land elegantly next to your dragon.

You look directly at him, the moonlight makes your eyes sparkle and catches in your hair. The large head of the Vermithor right next to you as the dragon blows hot air from its nostrils.

"Not worthy of a dragon, you said?" your smile is arrogant and proud. But as you place your hand on your dragon's nose and gently stroke it, you begin to honestly smile. Your eyes sparkle with happiness, and Jace thinks you have never been more beautiful than in this moment.

You really snuck down into the Dragonmont at night and claimed Vermithor for yourself. The Bronze Fury. Jace is impressed.

You walk past them with your head held high, back into the interior of the castle. Vermithor takes off and flies into the dark night.

Jace looks at his mother, her expression is tense. His grin fades.

Daemon is the first to speak and he turns directly to Jace.

"Now it is even more important that you marry her."

Jace is confused and looks at his mother. She gives him a smile. "We have nothing to oppose against Vhagar and Vermithor."

"What do you mean?" why do they need something to oppose thes two dragons?

"When the Hightowers try to usurp the throne." Daemon begins with an annoyed voice as if it were obvious what he was talking about.

"If..." Rhanyra interrupts, but Daemon just snorts.

"Get the Higtower whore to fall in love with you then maybe we will all survive."

Anger rises in Jace at his stepfather's words. He doesn't want Daemon or anyone else to speak so disparagingly about you. You are his fiancée. Without another word, he goes back inside.

The next morning, you and Vermithor are gone. Jacaerys would bet all his possessions that you flew directly to the Red Keep. He doubts for a moment if you would come back.

Now no one can force you to live here on Dragonstone.

Now that one of the largest and oldest Targaryen dragons is bound to you, no one can force you to do anything.

The sun is just setting on the horizon when he spots Vermithor's large body in the sky. He follows you both with his gaze until the dragon disappears between the rocks into the Dragonmont.

Silverwing rushes towards Vermithor. He hears Ulf bellow a poorly pronounced Dracarys. Silverswing opens her mouth. Vermithor right in front of her. Her flames are hot enough to harm him. But she doesn't spit flames. Instead, she closes her maw again and turns away. Ulf curses on her back and shouts at his dragon to obey him. He switches to the common tongue. But Silverwing refuses, turns away, and flies back to Dragonstone.

Your laughter echoes through the air. Jace turns to you, confidently sitting firmly in your saddle, and laugh at him.

"That worked out well with your army of bastards!" you shout over to him in a mocking voice.

Of course, Silverwing would never hurt Vermithor. She is his mate. How could they forget that?

Again, you laugh. It is a malicious, arrogant laugh that makes his blood run cold.

Jace is slowly getting a headache, and the Valyrian symbols are blurring before his eyes. He has been studying for hours. Nevertheless, the words come to his lips with difficulty. He tries again and again until his own voice sounds strange.

"Gods, your High Valyrian is even worse than Aegon's."

He flinches and turns to you. Hot anger rises within him at the comparison. He really puts in the effort, never misses even one lesson and studies as often as he can. Nevertheless, he is supposed to be wors in his mother tongue than the drunk, lazy idiot? You don't seem to notice his anger.

"Well. I just wanted to return your cloak to you."

Six days he barely saw you and didn't speak to you, and now you come and bring him his cloak? You confuse him. It drives him crazy that he can't figure you out.

Every day you flew towards the Red Keep in the morning and only returned in the evening. You enjoy every second on the back of your dragon.

Jace swallows his anger, walks over to you, and takes his cloak. Your fingertips brush against each other, and Jacaerys feels as if small sparks are coursing through his fingers.

He longs to hug you.

"Thank you," he says. He would have expected you to turn around and disappear to Vermithor. You stand still and look around the room uncertainly. "Is there anything else?"

"No," you say, your gaze flicking to the side. Skepticism spreads in Jace, he doesn't know exactly why. "I wanted to ask if you would like to fly with me, Vermithor, and Vermax? My siblings don't want to fly with me every day anymore. It's not as exciting for them as it is for me. They've had their Dragons for a while now." you chew on the inside of your cheek. Your hands are trembling slightly. A sign that you are nervous. He knows this by now.

It's the first time you're actively asking if he wants to do something with you. He has to bite his lip to avoid shouting yes immediately.

"Gladly," he replies after a brief moment. He looks at you and notices that your gaze is fixed on his lips. Heat floods through him. You look up, caught off guard, and glance to the side. Your cheeks turn red.

"Then let's go," you say quickly and turn around. He follows you quickly.

Your steps are light, you almost bounce alongside him. You radiate excitement and anticipation. Jacaerys has to laugh quietly. You gently hit him on the shoulder and grin at him.

"Don't laugh at me, I've been waiting so long for a dragon," you defend yourself. Jace raises his hands in surrender.

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm happy for you."

Again, that incredible smile that gives him butterflies appears.

"If you want, I can help you with your Valyrian," you then suggest.

"You think you can teach me?" he looks at you challengingly. You roll your eyes.

"If I can teach that drunk, lazy idiot Aegon, then I can definitely teach you."

"That would be very nice, yes please."

You arrive at the bottom of Dragonstone. Jacaerys whistles once loudly and shortly after hears Vermax's wingbeats. His dragon lands in front of him. Jace places his hand on his nose and presses his forehead against his head. A small greeting ritual.

Then it looks like as the whole mountain is moving. Vermithor’s massive body emerges from the shadows. His head is as big as Vermax's entire body. Nevertheless, the younger dragon remains calm. He knows that he is not in any danger.

You place your hand on Vermithor's nose.

"I still have to thank you."

"For what?"

"If you hadn't made me angry, I would never have dared to claim Vermithor." you smile sincerely as you climb onto the back of your dragon.

"Making you angry is one of my special talents, Princess."

It slips out. He doesn't mean it contemptuously or even as your title. It's a pet name. He realizes this as the word leaves his lips. He is briefly afraid that you will get angry. Instead, your cheeks turn red and you suddenly seem very interested in the reins.

Jace starts moving and climbs onto his dragon as well. Vermax takes to the skies. Adrenaline flows through his body as he flies through the air on the dragon's back. He hears your laughter behind him. Vermithor's great wings cast a shadow over Jace and Vermax for a moment before you fly to the side.

In that moment, Jace is sure that you both can be happy together.

You quickly fall into a routine together. In the morning you visit your garden, then go for a ride on dragonback. In the afternoon or evening you teach him Valyrian. Either in your chambers or in his. Jace enjoys every second with you.

Seasmoke fires his flames at the feet, while Jacaerys brings Vermax back into attack position. He breathes flames at Vermithor. You duck away. The huge beast turns back towards Vermax. Jace takes a deep breath. He is tossed back and forth in the saddle as Vermax suddenly dives down. But Vermithor is too big. His claws reach for Vermax. The little dragon still tries to dodge, but the claws tear a wing. Jace flees and turns around to have you back in his line of sight.

Vermax flies right in front of Vermithor's mouth. He is close enough that the flames will swallow him. But there is no heat, no fire, nothing. You don't give the orders. You hesitate.

A warmth spreads in Jacaerys; maybe there is still hope? Maybe he can convince you to switch to his side.

But in the next moment, your face becomes rigid again. You shake yourself lightly as if you need to wake up. Vermax loses some speed. Its difficult for him to fly with the injured wing.

Jace steers his dragon below Vermithor. The older dragon whips its head around. Snaps at Vermax but misses.

You call out a valyrian command. Vermithor's massive body turns with a powerful movement sideways and downward as he chase Vermax.

It has been raining all day. Jacaerys had argued with Luke in the morning. Viserys got on his nerves. His entire morning was shit.

Then his mother also sends for him. Aegon is feeling a bit ill the, Jace has to bring Stormcloud to him. So he collects the hatchling from the dragon keepers and carries it on a pillow to the nursery. He would rather find you and spend time with you than carry around his little brother's Dragon.

When he opens the door, he is greeted by a relaxed atmosphere. The fire in the fireplace is burning, Viserys is playing on the carpet. Aegon sits in front of the fireplace with a blanket around his shoulders.

You and Baela are sitting in comfortable armchairs. In your hands, embroideries. His little brother is leaning against your leg. As he enters the room, you all look at him.

You quickly look away again, and Baela starts to giggle softly. This reaction briefly confuses him.

"Stormcloud," calls Aegon, stretching his hands out towards his little dragon. Jace goes to him and carefully places the dragon in his arms. The hatchling lets out a satisfied hum.

Jace falls back and sits next to his brother in front of the fire. He looks up at you and Balea. His stepsister is struggling to suppress her giggles. You glance at her before turning to him.

"How are you today, Jace?" you ask deliberately lighthearted.

"Good. How are you?" he asks, confused. Since when do you ask each other how you are? At least not like that.

"I´m good."

He looks at you closely. Your behavior confuses him. Just like Baleas. Since when does she giggle so foolishly?

His gaze stops on your neck. Your sun necklace is not there. He has never seen you without it. You took it off. It satisfies something deep inside him. He feels triumphant even though he hasn't won anything yet. Nevertheless, his heart beats faster.

The water is coming closer quickly. The next moment, bolts from scorpions and crossbows are raining down on you. Jace doesn't even know if they are his men or the Greens'. It doesn't matter.

One of the scorpion bolts narrowly misses Vermax's neck. The next moment Jace hears a deep, rumbling dragon scream that goes right into his bones. Something hot, wet drips into neck and on his shoulders.

Jace turns his head. The bolt has hit Vermithor in the stomach. The wound is big. But not big or deep enough to kill the dragon.

He hears your angry scream and the next moment the bronze Fury is spitting fire. You're not aiming anywhere, it's just an expression of your anger. When you're angry, your beast unleashes all seven hells for you.

"I like this one." he points to a flower with a large, purple blossom. It gives off a gentle scent. You two sit in your garden together. Your flowers all grew good down here.

Your smile slips a little and your eyes become sad.

"That's Aegon's favorite flower too." you swallow a few times.

Jacaerys expected jealousy or anger to rise up in him. It doesn't.

Instead, it makes him sad to see you so sad. It's his mother's fault.

You still miss Aegon. He notices it. Sometimes your gaze drifts into the distance. He noticed that letters in his uncle's handwriting are lying next to your pillow. He knows he shouldn't have looked, but he went closer. The paper was covered in tear stains. Despite his curiosity, his eyes didn't read the words. It's really none of his business.

"Do you love him?" the words slip out before he can stop them.

"Of course I love him. He is my brother."

"I don't mean if you love him that way."

You clench your jaw. You look to the side. Your nod is so gentle that Jace almost missed it. "Yes I loved him."

He has to know now. He gathers all his courage and reaches for your hand. You turn your head to him, looking at him in surprise. Nevertheless, you don't pull your hand away.

"Can you be honest this one time? Please. I will never mention it again. No one will find out."

You study his face before you nod again. "Go ahead and ask."

"Did you share a bed with him?"

"No." you answer, not avoiding his gaze, and he believes you. This time he really believes you. You look at him openly and continue speaking. "We're not stupid, Jacaerys. We always knew that we couldn't do that. Gods,to be honest it was hard. We kissed but never more. It's over since I came here."

Your sudden unsolicited openness surprises him, but he is grateful. He wants to return the favor. You were honest about your past. Now it's his turn.

"I kissed Baela. I had a cush on her when I was younger. There was something between us."

Your lips curl into a slight smile. He didn't expect that. More likely that you would get angry after all his accusations about you and Aegon.

You turn so that you are now facing him. You briefly squeeze his hand.

"Thank you for telling me," you reply.

"You're not surprised?"

You briefly bite your lip. This small gesture draws his gaze in, and for a brief moment, Jace wants to lean forward and place his lips on yours. The need disappears as quickly as it came. As you continue speaking, your voice sounds slightly amused.

"I already knew it. She told me."

That's the last thing Jacaerys expected. "Did she?" he thinks of the awkward, inexperienced kisses his thirteen-year-old self exchanged with Beala and cringes for himself. He notices his cheeks turning slightly red. "What did she say?" he asks, unsure if he wants to hear the answer. You laugh warmly. At that tone, his heart skips a beat.

"Not much. Just that you're quite good."

He hadn't expected that either. Your gentle tone and warm smile give him courage.

"You can judge for yourself at any time."

You roll your eyes, but there's still a smile on your lips. For a moment, you look back at him and then to the side.

"Maybe I'll do that someday."

The bolt of a crossbow hits him. Pain courses through his body. Hot blood flows from the wound. The brief moment of shock is enough for you and Vermithor to attack once more.

The sheer force with which Vermithor crashes into Vermax squeezes all the air out of his lungs. The claws of your beast ram into Vermax's soft flesh. His dragon lets out a painfull scream. The sound makes Jacaerys's eardrums almost burst. His heart breaks and pain floods through him.

Tears well up in his eyes. Vermithor hurls Vermax and him through the air. He clings to the saddle. His muscles ache. Suddenly, an unknown coldness and deep pain fill Jace. Vermax is dead. He knows it even before he sees Vermithor's bloodstained claws. Then the dragon lets go.

Vermax is thrown uncontrollably in circles towards the ground. Jace doesn't even have enough time to take a deep breath before they hit the water. Vermax's body sinks like a stone. Jacaery's clothes soak up the cold water. He is being pulled down. But he manages to break free from Vermax to swim back to the surface once more. He gasps for air. His heavy clothes want to pull him down again. The icy water feels like needles. is this how his little brother feel shortly before his death? Did Luke die the same way? Or did Vhagar tear him apart with her razor-sharp teeth before he fell into the water?

Jace notices how he is getting weaker and weaker. He loses feeling in his arms and legs. Darkness spreads at the edge of his field of vision as unconsciousness pulls at him. He has failed.

A large shadow covers the sky above him. Vermithor circles just a few meters above the water's surface. You sit on his saddle and look down into the water. Your gaze searching. And then you see him. Your eyes meet.

Since you arrived in King's Landing, you've been different. The small gestures between you that made his heart race have disappeared immediately. You no longer hold his hand. You no longer adjust his cloak for him. You no longer point to one of the flowers near you and explain to him what kind it is and how to best cultivate it.

During the discussion about the succession of Driftmark, you did not stand by his side but next to your mother.

It annoys him terribly. It gives him the feeling that you are ashamed of him. For the fact that you like him.

Rhaenyra has emphasized for days that Jace is not allowed to argue with you as long as you are in King's Landing. Alicent would seize this opportunity immediately, break off the engagement, and bring you back to the Red Keep.

It already bothers his mother that you insisted on staying another week to attend the feast for Alicent's name day. She didn't have a convincing argument to deny you. Especially because Vermithor stood behind you the entire time during the discussion.

Jacaerys swallows his anger at your behavior and does the only thing he is sure will prevent you from arguing. He completely ignores you and avoids you.

That's why he doesn't even realize how angry this makes you.

The dinner with the king was a huge disaster. The worst thing for him was that you laughed as your brothers' insult him and his brothers.

Jace hand still hurts from the blow he dealt Aemond, just like his ankle. When his uncle pushed him, he twisted his ankle. The anger is still boiling.

Without knocking, you storm into his room. He flinches in surprise and looks at you. You are still dressed in your festive clothes, your hair tied back in strict braids. The anger you radiate makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"How can you humiliate me like this?" you scream at him. He is on his feet before your words have fully echoed in the room. A hot rage courses through him. How can he hummiliate you? You are the one who turned away from him and is ashamed of him. You are the one who laughed at him today.

"What did you say?" he asks. You approach him. Your eyes are sparking with anger. Jace has to swallow at the sight. You stand just a few steps in front of him, but the tone of your voice remains unchanged as you start shouting again.

"You ignore me all evening and then you dance with my sister? In front of everyone! You pushed me aside. How could you do that?"

"You are jealous," he guesses and is surprised by it, and also by the fact that it pleases him. Did he want that? Was this his plan?Did he want to make you jealous? Did he wanted to get your attention this way? He doesn't really know himself.

"Nonsense." you shout angrily, but your gaze flickers to the side, just like always when you lie. Jace knows you by now. Even though you did everything to prevent him from doing so. You lowered your walls and let him in. You can't undo that now.

"You are jealous." this time he is sure.

"Rot in the seventh hell," you scream angrily. He knows that you only react so extremely when you are insecure. You whirl around and want to run out of the room, but Jace grabs your wrist, pulls you back, and turns you back to him.

For a second, you just look into each other's eyes. His gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. He doesn't know who leaned in first, but your lips are already crashing together before he can form a clear

thought. A shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your lips on his. Your hand buries itself in his dark curls. Jace wraps his arms around your slim body, pulling you closer to him. Your lips part slightly and he slides his tongue into your mouth. Hot desire arises within him. He can’t get enough of the feeling of your lips on his. His heart is racing so fast that he's afraid it's going to jump out of his chest. You press yourself closer to him.

You part breathlessly. His eyes are on your beautiful face. Your eyes are sparkling, your cheeks are slightly red and you are gasping for breath. Your eyes find his and your lips creep onto your face. It's a gentle, genuine smile. He can't help but smile too. He carefully places his hand on your cheek, caresses the soft skin.

He rests his forehead against yours. You lean into his touch, lean slightly forward, and kiss him once more. This time gently, just for a brief moment, like a test. Immediately, his whole body tingles again.

"Maybe I was a little jealous," you whisper. Your gaze shifts from his eyes to his lips, the redness of your cheeks intensifying. But you make no move to free yourself from his arms.

"Why?" he whispers just as quietly. This moment is terribly intimate. Jace enjoys every second he can hold you in his arms. He has longed for this. To be able to hold you. Now he feels like everything is falling into place. Now that he can hold you in his arms. He is surprised by the sudden intensity of his feelings. Maybe because he has suppressed them for a long time.

"I... maybe... maybe I don't find you as terrible as I always pretend to." you admit. Jace has to suppress a laugh.

"Is that so?" he asks. He wished you would say the words. But he knows that you won't do it. He also knows that he can't say it now. Maybe someday, but not now.

You nod. Suddenly, you are shy. He never would have thought that you could be shy. "I don't know, I can't quite understand what I'm feeling," you admit openly.

"It's okay," he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek as his other hand searches for yours. You intertwine your fingers together. Jace looks down he can get used to the sight of your hand in his and the feeling of your soft skin against his."We have time."

"Time?" you ask.

"Yes, to find out what we feel."

You smile again and search for his gaze. Your eyes sparkle.

"When we are back on Dragonstone. Then we can find out what it is between us. We can figure it out. Together." he suggests.

"Yes, I like this idea." you say. He closes his eyes for a moment, then kisses your forehead and takes a step back. Your hands however remain intertwined. Your grip tightens a little.

Hope begins to blossom in Jace. Hope that his future and his marriage won't be as dreadful as he feared. Maybe the unimaginable can come true and you can be happy together. And reunite your broken family.

You sigh but your smile remains. You also take a step back, releasing your hand from his. Immediately, he wants to hold you in his arms again. But he holds himself back. This is not the right place. It's not the right time.

Nervously you giggle and look around, then back to him. "I should go. Not that rumors would start. My mother would be furious."

Jace laughs softly. "Yes. See you tomorrow?"

You nod. "I'll come with you to the Dragon Pit to say goodbye," you say. "And after Mother's name day, I will return to Dragonstone."

Anticipation spreads within Jace. He nods. A strange mix of hope, uncertainty, and affection spreads between you. You give him another one of your beautiful smiles, lean forward, and kiss his cheek. Then you turn around and leave his chambers with red cheeks and a smile.

Neither Jacaerys nor you know that your lives will fundamentally change within the next few days and that you will never set foot on Dragonstone's soil again.

Your face is the last thing he sees before the sea swallows him. And he saw the tears on your cheeks.

Maybe you really loved him. He loved you. It didn't make a difference. It is his last thought before the darkness swallows him forever.

a/n: tbh writing this made me sad😭 I wanted to give them a happy ending so bad but I couldn´t

Edit: I did give them a happy ending: Trust conquers fate (What if/ alternativ ending)

#I'm a Jace Girl now😍#jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x you #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon fic

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pomefioredove · 10 days ago

Note

May I have sugar cookie #13 with sprinkles, chocolate chips, and powdered sugar?

Thank you and have a good day!

thank you for requesting!

order #13, sugar with chocolate chips, sprinkles, powdered sugar

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ bad service

summary: he didn't mean to get you fired tropes: fake dating, hurt/comfort, coffee shop au characters: deuce additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is not yuu, pre-NRC

"Check this out,"

It was like seeing headlights right before being barreled over by a semi-truck. It was the bitter taste of poison before paralysis, it was thunder before lightning.

It was a group of giggling teenage boys that were standing in the door of the coffee shop.

And based on the way they were dressed, tattered knees on dark-washed jeans and chains and bruised knuckles visible through holes in their gloves, they wouldn't have liked their insidious snickering to be thought of as "giggling".

Though, of course, that's what it was.

You pretend as if you hadn't heard, hoping they might lose interest and slink out the door and back onto the streets. But the sound of the bell by the door never hit your ears.

You pretend as if you're busy, bussing tables and swabbing them with a soapy cloth, collecting cake crumbs and empty coffee cups.

And you pretend there isn't one standing behind you, a big, shit-eating grin on his face.

"You're just gonna ignore me? That's pretty rude, you know,"

You turn over your shoulder- he's a bit shorter than you, but that makes him no less scary. Where is your shift manager when you need him?

You put on your best customer service voice and smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you ready to order?"

"You could say that,"

The boys behind him snicker, and the sinking feeling in your stomach is actualized when the shorter, bleached-blond in front of you suddenly dives in.

You're not sure where your reaction came from- months of customer service, likely- but you raise your fist, dingy dish-water cloth in it, and smack him hard across the face.

The barrage of hormonal boys howls with laughter, and their leader- the blond, the shorter one with a face that almost could have been mistaken for sweet- stumbles backwards into a table, sending its sweet, coffee-flavored contents across the floor.

You don't apologize. Why should you?

"YOU!"

And there's your manager. Fashionably late, like he is for all of his shifts.

You sigh, not even bothering to react to his heavy footsteps and booming voice as he berates you. "What did we say? What did we say? First, it wasn't smiling, and then it was that attitude-"

"I can't control the tone of my voice,"

"-And now you're assaulting customers? Give me your apron, you're done."

Your eyes widen, and you almost argue, but then those boys are still standing behind your manager, snickering.

You shouldn't make this worse for yourself.

Though you don't smoke at work, the alley behind the coffee shop is where you spent your breaks, sitting on the concrete steps and thinking.

And that's where you sit now, taking another kind of break (a permanent one, this time). Thinking.

"Ex-excuse me?"

A small squeak comes from the mouth of the alley. Meek and afraid - a child? You don't know if you have it in you to help some runt find its parents today.

But that voice becomes a shadow, which becomes a boy, much taller than a child but no less cowardly.

"You're not... he didn't really fire you, did he?"

You narrow your eyes at the bleach-blond. "He did,"

"Oh," he sounds sad, as if he has the right to pity you. You might slap him again, just for good measure. "I'm sorry,"

"You're what?" you ask.

"I'm Deuce," he says. "I mean- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you fired."

"You were just going to grab me, that's it? How kind,"

Panic pinches at his skin, and he seems to puff up like a cat. "I wasn't really gonna- I mean, I was just gonna make it look like that. For my boys. But I wasn't actually... I'm sorry,"

You lower your eyes. "Sure. Sure you were,"

"Honest!" Deuce says, sitting across from you on the gravelly ground, still damp from this morning's rain. "I-I... I never would have. What would my mom think? I was just... well, I told them that-"

"Spit it out,"

His face turns tomato red, a bad combination with his banana-blond, making an overripe fruit salad out of his face. "I-I told my boys that we were dating,"

You couldn't be anything but taken aback. What the-?

"Why?" is all you can think of.

Deuce looks away, twiddling with his thumbs like a child caught cheating on his math exam. "Well... you're pretty,"

"...And?"

"And, well, I wanted to impress everyone,"

You look away, mulling over his meek confession. What would my mom think, is what he said.

No amount of pity is going to get you your job back.

"Well, that would have been nice to know before you did that,"

"I'm sorry," he repeats. "I'll never bother you again. I'll pay you whatever you want until you can find a new job. I'll tell everyone the truth, I'll beat up your boss!"

The offer is said with such endearing excitement that you, again, almost forget that this was the foolish boy who had deserved that smack across the face.

"I don't forgive you," you say, plainly. "But you may as well find me a new job. I... needed that one."

He lights up, standing with a sense of determination in his hands and eyes. "I won't let you down!" he announces to the entire alley. "I'll go right now- wh-what work do you do? I mean- no, never mind, I'll just find all the available jobs in town! Stay right here!"

You stand, gripping his wrist before he can bound off into town.

"Maybe I should come with you,"

Again, he blushes, and he nods. "O-oh- right- good idea!"

You link your arm with his (mostly so that he won't escape) and drag your prisoner along with you.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #queued

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hooffuloftootsierolls · 5 months ago

Text

In light of the reveal of Abel's complete design, have this dumb doodle i made on magma a week ago based on an interaction my bsf @plushtoothpanic acted out while we were joking about Vivziepop's lack of diversity(the dog character is his sona).

Also, rant below involving Abel, I don't want this to become a critical blog since Hazbin has held a special place in my heart since 2021, but oh my God I am so sick of the shit that Vivzie is pulling

Making Adam white was already quite a choice, I had a pretty specific vision of a dark-skinned curly-haired man before his face was revealed. Although I had been expecting a biblically-accurate Adam, I didn't mind having him white as long as Eve wasn't made white as well.

Abel's design throws this out the window.

First let's focus on Abel being the child of Adam and Eve. This means Eve is white, and likely also blonde. Historically, the first humans were East/South African, and not white. Ok, well what about biblically? The popular depictions of biblical figures are mainly European interpretations from when Europe adapted the Bible and made all the figures pale, like them. It's more likely that the dark-skinned writers that originally complied stories into the Bible meant for the figures to look more like them. It would make more sense if one or both of them was dark.

Saint Peter is a whole nother' piss drawer that I don't wanna open, but whitewashing an actual human being that existed is just so gross.

Now, the other thing I wanna talk about that talks less about race and more about theories surrounding Abel being blonde... People were already theorizing that maybe one of the kids was Lucifer's spawn because of the implied affair with Eve. It wasn't the most popular theory but now it's making a comeback with the reveal of Abel's complete design.

I dislike this theory(besides the fact that it's just stupid) because

1. Cain is Adam and Eve's firstborn son. Abel is their second. Even if Eve and Lucifer had an affair in Eden, that would result in Cain, not Abel. Also we aren't entirely aware of Lucifer's powers involving entering the living world but I doubt he can canonically go there, or at least not after Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden, since Hell was made as a punishment for him and any mortal that sins and I don't think he would be able to waltz back to Earth that easily. I suppose maybe they could be twins and Cain could just have been the first one born, but I don't think that's usually what "firstborn" implies, or how it's generally interpreted?

2. This is gonna look really bad on Lucifer's part?? Like, this implies that Lilith left Adam for Lucifer, then Lucifer got with Eve(possibly cheating on Lilith if she wasn't aware/didn't consent to the affair) and cucked Adam for a second time???? Lucifer would straight-up be getting the Stolas treatment where they keep making him more and more shitty then try to justify it anyways. Cmon guys.. I wanna be able to cheer for Lucifer too but he doesn't seem remorseful at all for anything he's done, more like he's been playing the victim for a decamillennium despite being a possible cheater and the one who destroyed Adam and Eve's life.

3. How would this be plot-relevant at all?? My closest guess is to make a disconnect from Adam like "oh he was never my ACTUAL father anyways" and also to try and make a bond with Abel and Charlie being blood-related so he would decide to side with her or something. Also on top of that I hate the whole trope of someone suddenly not giving a fuck about the parents who raised them in favor of their biological parents who didn't raise them. It's a dumb trope and if this theory is canon and they pull something like that.... ughh.

yeah. Overall, too many Aryans, pleasepleasepleaseplease pleaseeep please don't make Eve white even though I know they will anyways, and if that stupid theory is true then Lucifer is a snake-tongued, home-wrecking, unfaithful pile of shit that is disguised as a poor depressed dad that the fandom eats up and woobifies. Not that I don't want him to have flaws, but he doesn't seem very sorry for what he did(he has his whole snake and apple motif, that's like saying you feel guilty for a murder then using the hyper-specific murder weapon as your symbol) and also Abel being his son would be such an unnecessary plotline that would make him look soooo so so so so much worse because he wouldn't have much of a wholesome excuse for that.

The only good things I'm getting out of this are that I can post about Abel without having to tag it as leaks and also people are cracking jokes about Abel being the son of Lucifer and Adam

#tw vivziepop #tw racsim #tw cheating #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #if eve is white AND abel is lucifer's son im throwing hands

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

hii!! first off i wanna say congrats on 5k you deserve it so much!! can i do remus lupin and fake dating please and ty!

Thanks so much lovely!

cw: alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 969 words

“Your favorite color is green,” you say, passing Remus a glass of champagne.

His brow twitches as he takes it from you, holding it by the stem like an adult. You adjust your grip on yours accordingly. “What?”

“Your friend Sirius cornered me by the bar. I panicked.”

“Ah.” Remus tucks a tongue into his cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth, and takes a sip. “I’ve always told him I didn’t have a favorite.”

You chew your lip, nodding. “Okay. That’s okay, we can just say you told me because you’re, like, so into me.”

He chuckles. “So into you I divulged to you the deep, dark secret of my favorite color?”

“Mhm. Think he’ll buy it?”

“He might, actually.” He takes another sip of his champagne, and you remember to have a bit of yours. You could probably use it. Remus looks perfectly composed, and surprisingly dapper in his suit, done up to the top button with the collar just barely brushing a thin, pale scar circling a third of his neck. Contrastly, you’re a jumble of nerves. “Sirius likes to think I’m holding out on them, it might fit into his narrative that I’d kept it a secret all these years.”

“And if he does figure it out, we could probably just tell him, right?” you ask, and somehow your champagne is half gone. Damned duplicitous, narrow glasses.

Remus’ smile softens as it bubbles down your throat, and you know he can read what you’re thinking on your face. You’re a shit actress, an even worse liar. You’re going to ruin this for him.

“We could,” he says, “but he’ll only tell James.”

“Really?” You look at the man still standing by the bar, now chatting with a blonde you don’t know but suspect in a few minutes will have to pretend you’ve heard Remus talk about a million times. Sirius has managed to wear a leather jacket to a wedding, thrown on right after the reception in what Remus has informed you is typical fashion for him. He grins with one half of his mouth as he talks, flashing canines when he really means it. “He doesn’t strike me as a narc.”

Remus steps closer to you as someone moves past him, lowering his voice. You can smell his cologne, woody and vaguely sweet. “He’s not. He and James tell each other everything, though.”

“Oh. That’s sweet, actually.”

James is the one you’re really here for. It’s his wedding, and months ago when he and his fiancee sent out invitations he’d asked if Sirius or Remus would need a plus-one. Sirius said yes immediately, and by some manner you can’t say you understand but Remus assures you is very typical of them, this evidently devolved into a bet on whether Remus could actually find a date that met his standards and that he was willing to ask to come to the wedding with him.

As it turns out, Remus is more competitive than you would have guessed.

According to James and Sirius, no one is ever good enough for him. You’re here to disprove that, though you don’t love that your work crush asked you out because he couldn’t find anyone he wanted to actually date. Still, Remus is your friend, and you were never going to say no to helping him. If you’d known you’d get to see him in this suit, you probably would have said yes even faster.

“Do you want another?” Remus asks, and you look down to find your champagne glass is empty.

“Oh my gosh, sorry.” You set the glass down on a nearby table, embarrassment a tickle over your skin. “Yeah, probably best not.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He tilts his head at you, smiling in that gentle, kind way of his. “You’re here not on a job, love, you should have a good time.”

“I feel like I am, a little bit.” Your laugh bubbles out of you easily, fizzy like the champagne. “I want to at least act like someone your friends believe you could be interested in.”

“Just be yourself,” Remus reassures you. “They’ll believe it.”

Something in your gut flitters at what that could mean. You don’t let yourself think on it. “What if I wanted to dance?”

He smiles. “Then you should do that.”

“But would you dance with me?”

“I would hold your things for you.” His grin takes on a sheepish quality. “Find a chair to watch with all the other lame boyfriends.”

You tsk. “You’re not lame, Remus.” He looks like he wants to contradict you, but he kisses his teeth instead. “I think I’d rather stay with you, if that’s alright. We can go sit in chairs amongst the lame boyfriends if you like.”

Remus considers you for a moment. The sky has turned a deep blue around you, the string lights hung up around the space casting a warm glow that filters through his hair and makes it appear more golden than brown. “I would go dance with you if you wanted me to,” he admits.

You blink. “Really?”

“Well, maybe not dance so much as hold both our drinks and stand near you while you danced, but I want to stay with you, too.” Remus glances away from your eyes for a moment, a shyness you haven’t seen since you first met in his expression. “If you want to dance, I’ll go with you.”

You take his hand on impulse, the scars and calluses of his skin alternately rough and smooth between your palms. “I don’t want to make you,” you tell him earnestly, “but I really do want to dance.”

Remus looks to the side, his smile almost begrudging. “You’re not making me,” he says.

You end up getting another glass of champagne after all.

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wormwoodartemisia · 6 months ago

Text

[One of my favourite tropes in all variations: getting rescued, one way or the other - and I really need more people to write about it 😇]

I guess enough of us have probably already made certain experiences with that one kind of guys who simply wouldn't let the issue drop when you tell them that you're not interested, no matter what you say (in decreasing stages of politeness), unless...

{Only this time, we turn the tables a bit. 😏}

Claimed

Sometimes you need to be rescued - and sometimes it's the others…

About 5.2k words

Established Ghoap, civilian afab!Reader; (almost) no specific description (except that Reader has got soft hair that's long enough to run one's fingers through + Reader might appear rather tall at some point, but nothing in detail); no use of y/n

Warning: no smut actually taking place, just some references (mostly implied, intention to have sex); taste of alcohol

[[In case you want some more info: first meeting; aggressive, unrequited flirting: pestering and being a nuisance (when 'no' is interpreted as 'try harder' or simply ignored, but neither by Reader nor Ghost/Soap); fake kiss; What do we think about a threesome {MMF/MFM}?]]

Your original plan was to go out and spend some quality time on your own, focussing on nothing in particular, just floating through your own mind. However, it's one of those nights...

The bar is crowded in a pleasant way. When you enter, you can nontheless still get you favourite spot in the small booth not too far away from the bar counter. The perfect place for treating yourself with your favourite drink and indulging in the typical noises here that let you relax after an ardous week full of work. Normally...

The night is still young, you're in good spirits altogether. On such lazy evenings, you like people-watching, in case someone catches your attention. Then you wouldn't actively listen to their conversations, of course, but discretely observe them a bit, guess their mood and wonder what circumstances brought them here. A good training for staying attentive and creative alike.

Taking a sip from your drink, you casually start scanning the taproom with your eyes, when suddenly you notice a tall, broad figure in black appear from the back of the spacious room and lean against the counter, just a few seats away from you. For the shortest of moments the man takes you in and briefly nods at you in acknowledgement. You have hardly any time to reciprocate his gesture before he turns away again to order two drinks.

Of course you remember this stoic man from several other visits here, outstanding as he is, always looking the same, clad in the darkest colours only, his face covered by a black surgical mask he never takes off fully. He's one of the regulars (even if he's sometimes away for weeks), just like you - but you wouldn't have thought that he’s ever noticed you in here, let alone make it known to you...

In all the past months, you never saw him look your way, not even slightly. He always seemed totally concentrated on the guy he kept company - that boisterous, ever-grinning mohawk with his fiercely piercing blue eyes that winked at you playfully one night when you passed them on your way out to head home. A contagious smile. Handsome man in his extrovert personality, but you don't find his mysterious, calm mate any less attractive, though you haven't seen much of him so far, except his short blond hair, some fair skin and now his dark, steady eyes a few moments ago.

You save his expression in your memory. Definitely something worth remembering.

To be honest, these two are your favourite people to watch.

Together, they take a presence in the room that's unmatched, draws you in, clouds your thoughts, if you allow yourself to go astray. You've never witnessed anything like that before. These two men have captivated you right from the start and it took you some time to put it into words: blowing through the landscapes of your mind, Mohawk is a storm, Mask is its eye... They belong together.

Such a beautiful couple (you're absolutely sure that's what they are, you can’t have misread their interactions), radiant energy, all easy-going, just pure affection, content with and enough for each other, never any drama.

Well, there's always a first time...

When Mask picks up his two drinks, he manages to take two steps back into the direction where he came from before he stops midmotion. Mohawk has just entered the stage of your field of vision, approaching fast from the backroom and stepping at the counter behind his mate. He leans his back against it, sighing audibly. You wouldn't need to be as close to them as you are in order to notice his furrowed brows and the tight line of his lips. It's easy to tell that he’s frustrated - massively so. Slowly Mask turns around, handing Mohawk his drink.

"Well, Johnny, no more damsel in distress, I take it?"

"Ach, haud yer weesht."

You can’t avoid becoming a witness to their talk. Despite the other people around, it’s a quiet evening and their deep voices carry over to you easily, closeby as you are, the tension not to be overheard.

Johnny takes a sip, looks at his partner and rolls his eyes. He's just noticed someone behind his friend. You've never seen him that annoyed: "No second act, please..."

Then you see the beauty beeline towards the two men.

You bet every guy in here would give her 10/10 - and you could readily agree - if not for her flawless outward appearance desperately trying to cover up that one specific look in her eyes, with which she holds her chin up just one bit too high. Though, nine of ten would probably gladly ignore that streak of arrogance (- which you feel so obviously oozing off her in case one is willing to take one closer look - ) if that meant getting a chance to know her better - and her pants.

She's all seductive smiles: "How impolite of you to keep me waiting!", she chirps, addressing both men equally, voice like sugar syrup, sticky, dripping. Used to getting what she wants...

Taking another sip, Johnny doesn't even bother to look at her at this point anymore.

First-row-seat, you can watch the drama unfold.

Mohawk: "We'd rather be alone."

Beauty (flirtatiously): "Now we're getting closer. Just my thought. So we're leaving?"

Black Mask: "You are very welcome to go."

Beauty: "Well, you already get me going, mystery, but I'd love to come as well."

You almost choke on your drink. This woman is terrible, fully ignoring both men clearly pointing out that her attention is unwanted! It has become obvious that she must have already been digging on your two favourites for quite some time, finally even making them change their place...

Yet she doesn't stop: "If you know what I mean."

Mask: "We get it, but we choose to ignore the implication."

Beast: "Ohh, playing hard to get, sweets? I like me some good challenge!"

Mask: "Nice. Then show us how fast you can get away."

Beast: "No problem. I'm off in less than one second if you take my hand."

"I'd rather take yer head", Johnny mumbles, but in contrast to you, she can hear him and grins wickedly: "And I'd give you head willingly, Scotty too Hottie!"

She reaches out to him, but Mask's cold voice actually makes her stop.

"Don't touch him."

Beast chooses to let Mask's words play into her favour: "No need to be jealous, killer."

"Go pick someone else."

You're convinced that he'll finally get through to her, but Beast gets distracted.

"Yeah, pick me, sugar! Anytime!", some random guy in passing by turns to her, immediately posing, showing her his upper arm, flexing his biceps, clearly quite taken with her outward appearance.

"Not now", she dismisses him, noticeably annoyed, but he only shrugs, grinning, before calling back over his shoulder: "Change your mind, lemme know, gorgeous."

Mask: "You should go with him."

She gives that bloke a swift lookover. "Not my type."

"We're nae yer type, either", Johnny points out.

Beast: "Oh, but you are. Love that brogue."

Mask: "Let me rephrase: you are not our type."

Beast: "Don't worry, I can become anybody's type."

She wants to touch him, both of them, badly so, you can tell, from the way her fingers are twitching at her side, but something's holding her back. So she does have a slight idea of boundaries, at least.

"We might nae be interested in women altogether", Johnny states matter-of-factly and has her head snap into his direction again.

"Hot - but you've never had a woman like me before, I promise."

"True. And ah hope we'll never meet one like ye again in future, either."

"You won't. I'm unique - and you really don't wanna miss this one chance, boys. I'll make it worth your while."

Rather worst your while, you think to yourself while you notice their patience wearing thin. It is beyond you why she doesn't take 'no' (all those 'no's') as what it is. It makes you angry, this full display of blunt disrespect, every rejection - in decreasing stages of politeness - just a spur for her to try harder, eagerly pushing an ego that is non-existent...

It's now that Mask furrows his brows and rummages in a pocket of his jeans: "We don't find you attractive at all." On finishing his sentence, he takes a look at what he's holding in his palm now, a silently vibrating mobile phone. He shoots the other man a swift glance: "I'm'a take that call now, Johnny. Make her leave." His tone has changed, laced with finality.

Mohawk straightens, the command initiating a subtle but nontheless visible transformation. He responds to his masked partner with one single firm nod: "Yes, sir."

The mask exits.

Beast was quiet during their exchange but now she's biting her lower lip and turns to Mohawk seductively: "Sexy."

He looks at her, the bright summer sky of his eyes now the cold of the frostiest glacier: "Oan yer bike!", a deep, low rumble.

You can sense that this was his last attempt to give her a decent way out - unfortunately she doesn't take her chance: "I'd rather ride you, handsome."

You know this type of person - man or woman, makes no difference. She won't stop.

Mohawk has just realised this sad fact, too. He breathes out deeply and while his eyes are wearily drifting towards the exit, he grazes your gaze for a split second.

Meanwhile, Beast dares to get closer, the attempt of a huntress, about to reach out and - what? Touch his hips?

It crosses your mind that this insufferable person would have already been removed from the bar had she been a man harassing two women. However, with switched roles (and a beautiful woman being after two broad blokes) nobody (except Mohawk, Mask & you yourself) seems to fathom any fundamental problem...

You can see that this might get ugly (situations easily do with people like Beast) - and since you know how things can be... Your turn.

Ready to avoid the catastrophe...

He doesn’t get the time to say anything, nor does she to lay hand on him. You're faster.

Within one heartbeat you've grabbed your drink and pop up at his side, so much out of nowhere, that you manage to catch Beast by surprise and get her full attention.

You press yourself against Mohawk's side (as unobtrusive as possible under these circumstances) and, by reflex, you guess, his left arm comes to rest around your waist, a pose the two of you have fallen into so naturally, nothing odd about it, no hint of hesitation from either of you.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t act surprised. He simply gets what you're doing here - but Beast doesn’t have a clue.

Showtime...

This is the guise you've chosen to present, and you perform artistically: there's a hint of defeat in your features, a slight hue of regret and a thin-lipped smile pointing downwards, emphazising that you know when a game is over.

You make sure that Beast gets enough time to study your facial expression. Then you donne Mohawk a genuine smile: "OK, honey, you win. I am fucking jealous seeing you flirting with some random woman. You were right, I was wrong. It really pisses me off when you tease her. I need this bad charade to end right now or I’ll forget myself", you notice a spark of mischief in his eyes, "And yes, darling, for the records, you have just won our bet. Happy now?"

Mohawk smirks at you, "Wasnae too painful tae confess now, was it, luv?" and makes you wonder how a grin can be so subtle and triumphant at the same time. You can feel him squeeze your waist in affection.

Now you turn to the other woman: "Really good job, dearie, digging on my man, testing my limits. So, have a nice one and farewell."

You can see the wheels in her head turning.

Does she call your bluff? No, at least not yet.

Doesn't mean it's over, though...

She gives you a calculating look-over, probably wondering why this man would be with you [in general, but especially] when he could have her - but she doesn't voice you're not his league, as some might say. She notices his hand caressing you softly, small gestures that make your acting convincing - the final proof, you think, to make her believe your claim is true.

Yes, "OK, I get it, the two of you belong together", but "but then I won’t let that blond enigma off the hook, for sure!"

Your heart skips a beat.

"Pity", a deep voice chimes in. Neither that woman nor you have noticed the masked man's return, his eyes fixed on Beast. So both of you stare at him when he takes one final step, "I'm all hers as well. Actually", to put his arm around your shoulder and drag your body into his possessively, "we're a throuple."

That poor woman is speechless for a second, blinks, flummoxed. "Throuple?", she repeats, utterly dumbfounded, her voice dripping with doubt.

"Aye, throuple, ye ken?", now Mohawk closes back in on you as well, his hand sliding to the small of your back. His once mischievous smile grows darker as he pulls up one eyebrow and a corner of his mouth, showing teeth, grinning - it's the wolfish way: "We fuck each other relentlessly and live happily ever after, just the three of us."

The blond wolf knows to add an eloquent thought: "With just the right amount of cocks 'n' holes to take care of, one sweet, perfect cunt. Yours not needed."

Her eyes go wide at their crude, blunt proclamation, a behaviour so different from before, but you yourself can’t help the smirk that creeps on your lips. Too much information for her...

Her eyes dart to the upturned corners of your mouth, the way you can hardly conceal your grin gets her suspicious.

However, your own focus finds a reason to shift when at the same time you feel the two men moving you in perfect sync. While Mask's right hand is sliding up from your shoulder to your neck, his left hand is tracing your left arm downwards until his long fingers can intertwine with yours. Using only soft, sweet pressure, he's holding your hands against your hip. Meanwhile, he's turned your body away from facing the other woman so that your back is firmly pressed to his front.

You feel the outlines of his muscular body, too fascinated to do anything else but comply - and why wouldn't you? It's too delightful a moment not to simply bask in - hyperaware of how your handsome 'darling' has also fully turned to you.

He's the counterpart to the man behind you, pressing his chest to your front, radiating heat that directly pools into your core. It comes oh-so naturally for you to place your right arm on his shoulder, your fingers sliding up his neck and into the soft strands of his hair, by instinct. You could swear you hear him faintly moan in pleasure; you can see dark night dawning in the shining sky of his cerulean orbs.

Caught between two predators, you couldn't be a prettier prey for them to play with... They're a sling that grows tighter around you, a closely woven net you don't want to escape.

You just concentrate on the feeling, let it swallow you whole, relishing in the moment, pretty sure you'll never get anything comparable again.

It's a perfect moment - apart from the fact that it’s not real.

However, maybe that's just what's made it all possible for you - no self-doubts, no fear of overstepping or misreading anybody's signs, no fear of rejection - for you won't ever be close to one of these guys, who aren’t into any woman after all. That has been clear to you from the very beginning, undeniably. Maybe it’s the first time you really feel at ease in a situation that could be part of a fantasy (literally your own fantasy!) - and the way they play along (a bit exaggerated in a way, perhaps) does some good to your self-confidence, despite only being a play pretend.

Suddenly you are pushed back over the edge of reality when the reason behind everything disturbs your haunting demon of harmony.

"You do them both?", Beast inquires, voice too shrill.

Don't let her catch you, this was your idea! Play cool!

Your remark sounds casual enough: "Well, yes... Not necessarily at the same time, though..."

"Not necessarily not at the same time", Mask clarifies pointedly, just loud enough for the four of you to hear and he lets his hips roll against the curve of your arse in one smooth motion that holds enough pressure to softly push you forward.

His partner knows how to catch you, perfect timing, by letting his own lower body meet you less than halfway. If you thought the three of you were close before, then you were wrong. Now you definitely feel the outlines of their dicks against your body. The vice their muscular frames create presses a shaky breath out of you that you didn’t know you were holding. It sounds too close to a wanton moan.

Suddenly feeling caught out, you hurry to hide your face from her in the crook of Mohawk's neck, blushing.

"Careful", you whisper into his ear, in a mild shock regarding your reaction to the two men. Mohawk makes you look him in the eye, tenderly thumbing your chin, and grins like a challenge. The way he then gingerly licks his lips makes him look hungry, almost lets you assume he might actually want to try and get a bite of you... What a silly idea for you to have...

Time seems to stretch and leaves your mind in a dizzy state.

"Lucky you." Her comment startles you. Why is she still there?

You sigh. Ultimately, you've put yourself in this situation - which isn't unpleasant in itself, rather the opposite. So don't be shy in the last few metres. Keep playing until the curtain falls...

"Luckiest girl in town", you confirm and mean it, "Can always have my favourite sandwich whenever I want."

You turn your head so you can have it leaning against the cheek of the man behind you, who closes the distance between your faces immediately. He welcomes the gesture like a purring cat and you feel the low sound vibrate in his chest.

Finally Beast truly takes a look at the two men and the woman who has claimed them. She can’t but feel betrayed. Her face turns into an ugly display of her defeat.

She snaps at both men equally: "You could have just told me right from the start that you got a girlfriend."

"Less fun", Mask comments deadpan and doesn't care about how she looks at him, fury raging in her eyes: "Arsehole! Wasting my time like this with your childish games! Grow up!"

How you despise her for her ignorance, for not letting the issue drop at once unless another woman has put a valid claim on the objects of her desire... How you loathe people not accepting 'No' and blaming others...

There is a jet black feeling boiling under your skin like the most Stygian gloom.

Beast is still glaring at the three of you, she might be even waiting for an apology that will never come.

"We're done talking now", your voice is ice crashing on her heated temper.

Mohawk knows a drastic method to underline your words. He turns your face away from her, his warm hand cupping your cheek, and draws you in. For a kiss...

You feel bold, (wrath coursing in your veins because of her) moving your lips as a tribute to all these Hollywood film-kisses you've seen in your life, mimicking passion; no tongues, no such line would be crossed with him. This will stay safe, you assume.

He tastes of whisky - tar notes and peat with tangy crisp seaweed and smoky bacon swirling on the surface, hints of sweet vanilla. Mouth feel is superb, dark and sweet, grounding you.

How long is this imitation of a kiss taking that you can process all these impressions? What's your flavour on his lips?

The woman watches you kissing for an endless moment, but how would you know?

You're focalised on the open-eyed dance of your mouths that you're sharing with this stranger of your dreams, concentrated on keeping up the façade while the two of you are holding each other's gaze, his boyfriend pressing your backside to his own body. What a strange intimacy...

When you feel the man behind you carefully untangle your intertwined fingers to let his hand find its way between Mohawk's and your own body in order to have his wide palm spread below your heart, his other hand wandering up your neck and into your hair, soft strands gliding through his fingers like liquid silk, a pull that's not a pull, you know that the other woman has finally left.

It's time for you to break the kiss, observing the man in front of you, that smug smile spreading on his delicious lips and reaching into his eyes, half-lidded now like those of a well-fed cat. You are preparing for an awkward feeling to set in, but it never comes. Somehow you stay caught in that surreal bubble the three of you have created.

Should you have a bad conscience towards the man in your back for your having indulged in kissing his partner? You decide against this notion. He has no reason to be upset or jealous, has he? You did nothing wrong, only responding to a kiss, not initiating it yourself; somehow it wasn't even a kiss, all just a fake, a game, nothing serious...

Right here, right now, you don't have the slightest idea how right and wrong you are at the very same time...

[Prepare to learn, dearie dove - choices have consequences.]

"Pure dead brilliant, bonnie", Johnny beams, "Tha was the nicest way out of this fucked-up situation. Ta."

Your proud, sly smile replies: "Just couldn't tolerate her disgusting behaviour anymore." Then you shift your weight to prepare for stepping aside in order to give up the formation of your human sandwich, but the man in your back reaches out his left hand, placing it on his partner's biceps.

Your cerulean bliss smiles impishly at the masked man in a way that leaves no question as to their feelings for each other (Beautiful!) and lets the fingers of his right hand come to rest on Mask's lower arm.

Just a gesture of affection among them, for sure, but your attempt of leaving this flat triangle has failed miserably, keeping you caged between the two of them. (Probably for the better since Beast might still be around!) Anyway, why would you complain? So when his two saphires return to you, you add: "I knew I simply had to do something when she was about to get all handsy with you."

He grimaces in repugnance: "Aye, got too close, that one", then he addresses his boyfriend, "Bloody bint was about tae grab ma bahookie, ye ken?"

"English, MacTavish."

You can hear the grin in Mask's deep baritone.

"Sorry, sir", he's not sorry at all, "Let me translate: my arse." He flashes you one of his flawless smiles and a conspiratory wink you bathe in. Their banter is enjoyable!

Grinning, you present your own theory: "I bet she would have even kissed it right on the spot if you had told her to or simply let her..."

The man in front of you says nothing in reply, but you see his eyes flick to your lips. You feel the weight in your back shift when the tall blond leans forward to whisper in your ear, just loud enough for his friend to hear, too: "I think he liked your kiss much better."

Then you feel a soft press against your jaw that confuses you. Has he just put his masked lips on you?

You need to blink several times, clear your throat and reply: "That wasn't... real. Only some sort of film-kiss. No real kiss, you know?"

"It was lips on lips, hen. Half way up tae geez a winch, eh? Sounds much like a kiss tae me."

"Bloody looked like one as well."

"And tasted so, too. Yer such a nice addin tae Scotch whisky, bonnie."

You swallow - speechless, considering the turn this conversation is taking. You want to come up with some witty remark - but you totally lack any clever ideas... You play for time, reaching out to the bar counter, taking a sip from your drink.

You notice the blond's hand close around his own glas. It's only when Mohawk places his right hand on your hip that Mask lets go of the other's arm. To you it’s nothing but coincidence. The only thing you do know is that Mask will now turn his face towards the bar, away from the crowd, before pulling one sling of the mask off from behind his ear to take a good swig of his beer. You watched him do so many times in the past while you were observing the two of them. - Enough of a reprieve for you to sort out and contemplate your feelings.

You convince yourself that you shouldn't read too much into their flirty behaviour. After all, these two men are a gay couple. You will just enjoy yourself. Clearly no reason to get flustered, right? Have fun and flirt back - and let them kiss you if they like. For your part, you liked the kiss(es?) - real or not!

Then the fabric is back in place and Johnny grins at him, a thin-lipped, intense little smile, that suits his half-lidded eyes: "Ah bet she'd taste delicious with tha drink of yers as well, Simon."

The pale man hums in anticipation, a deep, rich sound, promising. "We shall see."

Still trapped between the two them, you turn to Mask as far as possible, attempting a self-confident smile in response: "Now shall we?"

His right hand lands at the nape of your neck, his thumb ghosting soft circles on your skin. "Guess so, sweet'eart. Or do you think we haven't noticed you staring and watching", your eyes go wide and the crinkles growing around his eyes tell you that he’s smiling, "at any occasion, right, Johnny?"

"Aye, very accurate, Si. Studyin us as if it was her job."

Despite the fact that he's talking to the mask (Simon!), Mohawk (Johnny!) is looking at you solely. "Like some spy, gatherin intel or so."

Spy?! Something in his voice makes you believe that this might not entirely be a joke. On the one hand, you're shocked about the fact that - obviously - you are far worse at people-watching than you thought. How embarassing! But on the other hand, it’s such an appealing idea that they think you capable of actually being such femme fatale. Thrilling! (Or worrisome?)

However, ... what would there be to spy about them, anyway? Despite their scars, testimony of various hardships, they'd hardly be some modern James Bonds...

Well, you couldn't care less! This evening is the most exciting thing since... Oh, don't rack your brains, honey!

You bite your lower lip as not to let them see the wide grin that would definitely threaten to appear on your face. "I'm no spy." A soft smile in your voice can be heard unmistakenly as you are about to look down to where your and Johnny's bodies are touching, but, within a split second, Simon's hand reaches around your throat, with the softest of pressures only, and keeps your head tilt up with his index finger.

"Luckily, you're not", Simon's voice, close to your ear, sends a shiver down your spine.

Johnny's words make it whip straight into your core, the promise of an underlying danger: "Good fer ye, lassie, and good fer us. Win/win situation. Rare enough." His hand seems to burn on your hip. And once more your world shrinks down to these two strangers.

Simon's mask touches your earlobe: "Had a bet whether you would take the first step, doll."

"And what a first step tha was, bonnie, placin yerself in my arms, makin me yer man. Sweetest compensation fer me losing." He winks at you conspicously, daringly, but you are still processing their words.

Simon lets go of your throat when you take your drink again. You drain the rest of your glas in one go.

"Finished?", the Scotsman asks, "Then cummoan."

You glance around the taproom. "Have you seen where she went to after she'd left us alone?", you ask.

It's Simon who answers your question. "Left the bar some time ago with her friends."

You nod, relieved immensely, for you wouldn't like her to come across you sitting here all by yourself. "That's good. OK. Have a nice evening then, you two." You try a good-natured smile. It makes you a bit sad that your night together has already come to an abrupt end.

The roguish look Simon and Johnny exchange with each other goes completely unnoticed by you.

Now Mohawk playfully nudges you with his shoulder, slowly, tenderly, as not to really push you away with it. "Wiz talkin tae ye, hen. Had the impression it got pretty obvious that the three of us would be leavin thegether."

This is an unexpected turn...

You stare at the grinning man in front of you, dumbfounded, kind of, speechless.

Could I possibly misinterpret their intention regarding the things to come?

The way Johnny's looking at you makes unmistakenly clear: he means it; however, they won't coax you into anything you wouldn't want - you can decline, put a stop to it, anytime; they themselves wouldn't offer anything they disliked, either. No obligations.

You turn to get a look at the man behind you. He holds your incredulous gaze, unblinking, followed by one single affirmative nod.

This can’t be happening...

Their directness, sincerity, makes your decision an easy one.

Too good to be true...

A playful smile starts to spread on your lips. You only wish your voice sounded firmer when you finally answer. "I'd like that. So what happens now?"

Johnny's palms run up your arms and down again. "Listen, bonnie: ye set the pace. All ye need to ponder about is the timing, eh?"

"The timing?", you ask, slightly confused.

"Aye. Make up yer mind, take a moment tae decide. We've got plenty o' time. Ye can have anything."

You're still no wiser when Johnny addresses his mate as if you weren't there and listening: "Ah'm curious tae see what she will pick. Ah bet she's already gone through every scenario in her head since she started watching us, our wee minx." Simon slowly nods in response. "Got that impression, too."

On your way out, you're comfortably tugged in between the two almost-strangers who have just happened to become your two boyfriends by accident. Johnny’s got his arm around your waist again, a heavy, pleasant reminder, solid warmth, whereas Simon's massive hand is a crisp burn at the back of your neck, alluring autumn on your skin, the phantom of a chill ready to reach under your surface.

The moment the three of you are out of earshot, the masked man helps you to see things clearly, to understand the transition from fantasy to reality:

"So, how do you want us, love? One after the other - or both of us at the same time?"

#ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghoap x reader #ghoap x you #cod #call of duty #claimed #🧼💀👀#ghost #soap #no means no #me writing #wormwoodartemisia #no smut

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jesncin · 21 days ago

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Musings on fandom racebends and canon characters of color

It's so fascinating how Tana Moon initially accidentally subverted the "disposable poc love interest" trope. She's propped up to be the endgame love interest that Superboy "earns" by learning to grow up and be responsible. As far as half-assed love triangles go, the one between Superboy, Roxy and Tana heavily favors Superboy being committed to Tana to the point of barely reciprocating Roxy's feelings for him. Yeah of course it's a creepy relationship -but as we've discussed before- the writer doesn't see anything wrong with their age gap. It's a fetishistic, racist and misogynistic fantasy where a teen boy can be cool enough to catch the fancy of a sexy dark skinned woman. At the end of the day, Kesel wanted you to like Tana.

But -because of his own biases- Kesel never fleshes out Tana the way Roxy and Knockout (white women btw) get to be explored. I think Kesel assumed Tana being a sexy lamp was enough to hold the interest of young boys reading. And then when Superboy needed a status quo shift that moved him away from his Hawai'i cast system to that of CADMUS, suddenly Tana just... metatexually fulfilled the disposable brown girl trope. Now Superboy has his eyes on a new quirky blonde white girl at work. Tana comes back to die, so both Superboy and the readership move on.

Looking at the way Tana is treated in fandom; how she's made disposable and barred from transformative re-imagining, how when she is included she's treated as this obstacle to overcome before Kon can enter his real, fulfilling relationships with white partners,,, it's like fandom reinforces the disposable brown girl trope inherit in the bias of canon.

And man, does it gets weird when Kon himself is re-imagined as a person of color. I've talked before about how especially in fandom spaces, it's totally fine to racebend a canonically white character if you see something in that worth exploring. I save my big boy critic pants for canon rather than going after spaces of play. BUT when a character's original solo text is inseparable from racism, I have to wonder what we're saying when we give more humanity to re-imagining a white character (who are often afforded more dimension) as POC over the existing (usually underdeveloped) POC characters.

I've seen this "people care more about racebending white characters than already existing canon poc characters" discourse before and I totally get where it's coming from. Many people are more interested in re-imagining Superman as a man of color instead of getting into a character like Steel or Icon (who have their identity more purposely written into their stories), but that doesn't mean those POC!Superman re-imaginings don't have merit either! But at the same time, a canon character like Kong Kenan fulfills the "Superman legacy character with attitude" role way better than Kon ever did, but he doesn't command the same fandom as a man of color.

I guess what I'm heading towards in this ramble is that I wish there was a balance. If you're compelled into appropriating a canonically white character to be more like you or because there's a story to tell, go for it! But I think it's important to be aware of the ways we reinforce canon's bigotry by only giving our creativity to a certain type of character. Like yes, fandom likes making Kon brown, but do they do anything to dismantle or interrogate the racism inherit in his run? Or have we fed back into the racist misogyny of canon by validating the dynamic still in place? Does Kon now just get to dump and dispose of a woman of color while being brown himself as he does it?

#ramblings #jesncin dc meta #there's a similar dynamic at play when fandom favors male characters to be “girl coded” over female characters written with girlhood in min #or making straight characters queer instead of investing in and exploring queer characters #it's understandable when marginalized characters are usually underwritten.#but also where's our effort going when we're not willing to explore these other characters #tana moon

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cranberryjuice-posts · 1 year ago

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I’ll crawl home to her

Pairings - Abby Anderson x Fem! Teacher! Reader

An - i love this trope of Abby with a teacher like, her coming home after a long day of patrolling and clearing out infected and her just wanting to be in your arms and hear about your day

An pt 2- hozier is slowly taking over my life him and mitski will be my downfall

Palestine aid link

Abby leaned back in the bed of the truck, her cheeks bright red from exhaustion and the heat. The setting sun blaring down on her and her group after a long day of patrolling.

She hated days like these. Having to leave you before you woke up, just to be out all day until the sun set. Manny chuckled “ahí va ella” Abby looked over at him unamused. “What’s that supposed to mean”

“Nothing Nothing Just pointing out something” he continued. The blond sighed annoyed before looking behind her at the fast moving scenery. Secretly she wondered what the world would of been like if it hadn’t ended— would she of met you, would you both of still been happy, maybe you would of met her dad.

Pushing that thought aside Abby lifted her hand waving at the guys on guard to let their group into the base. Once off the truck she avoided multiple people to not get stuck in conversation.

After turning in her guns Abby made a b-line straight for your apartment. The only thing that really mattered to her right now was to be at her home. In your hallway she hesitated before opening your door. Letting out a tired sigh she walked in.

“And that’s what I’ve been saying, I told Julia that it doesn’t matter if back in her day if—“ you stop mid conversation with Mel to see Abby standing in the doorway.

Mel took note of Abby’s exhausted appearance, patting your shoulder “I’ll see you tomorrow ok” she gave you a soft smile before leaving. Once mel was gone you opened your arms waiting for Abby to walk over.

Abby quickly pulled you into a hug taking a deep breath in just to take in your subtle perfume. “Rough day” You asked leaning back some to take a good look at her worn out face. “Yeah, just.. a lot” she sighed.

You nodded leaning up kissing her gently before stepping down, grabbing her hand and walked her over towards your bed. Abby swore up and down your kisses were the sweetest thing ever— so sweet she would get toothaches.

Setting Her on the bed you silently grabbed your first aid kit to help clean some of the cuts on the girls arms and body. Not once asking her about the people she had killed, or even wondering about the wrong she had done, only wanting to help take care of her. “Shit abs your running a fever” you frowned pulling your hands away from her forehead. “I’m gonna make you some tea ok” kissing her cheek you walked towards portable stove you had recently got preparing a fresh pot of tea.

Abby admired your figure from afar, the long grey military sweat pants that didn’t quite fit you as they were Abby’s, your dark bra and how you had your hair pulled up. She had always liked when you wore your hair naturally down but didn’t mind seeing it pulled back either.

You started to hum a lullaby as you turned the stove on. Slowly moving back and forth Abby almost thought you were nothing more than a dream, like you were a figment of her imagination.

Returning back to the blondes side you helped her out of her clothes— giving her a clean set that you had lying around from earlier times she stayed over.

After a few minutes you placed some of the tea in a mug, handing it to abby you started to stitch up a deep cut in her bicep. It amost made Abby cry how you never worried About what her hands and her body had done, never asking about who or what she had killed, only ever concerned about her no one else

Once she was taken care of you took the now empty cup from her and set it aside. Pulling the covers back you laid down in bed, taking your bra off mainly because you knew Abby liked the skin on skin connection. Waiting for the blonde to strip out of her shirt, you laid down allowing her to fall ontop of you.

You started to undo Abby’s braid as she lightly kissed along your collarbone. Raking your fingers through her hair you started to whisper. “I get it sweet girl.. I get it, it’s ok”

Massaging the girls head you started to tell her about your day. Soft and sweetly showing Abby your love “So I had taught my class about world history today, and we had—“

Abby started to doze off quickly falling asleep. Even if she had died on an assignment No grave could hold her body down she’d still crawl home to you.

#Spotify #lesbian #wlw #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou fluff #abby anderson fluff #the last of us fanfiction

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peggyao3 · 7 months ago

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Pt. 13 - (Pseudo) Pregnancy

A/N: The only trope yee aunt Peggy will never ever write is actual pregnancy… Meanwhile cannibalism, dune-typical incest, non-con, no problem, but pregnancy is just too close to irl body horror for me, but luckily I can make up anything in the world of fiction and beat the trope into a shape of my liking 😂😌 thank you @nocturn-warrior for the spark of inspiration to pick this prompt hehe 🤭

Can be seen as part of the Night Crawler universe, I think <3

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, breeding kink, descriptions of pregnancy symptoms without an actual child growing in there, FMC is thin enough to see a distension of the womb, squirting, dub-con

WORD COUNT: 450

"You're whining so much today," Feyd-Rautha groans, situated warm and hard between her spread thighs.

"Yes," she grates out through clenched teeth, pushing against her husband's round shoulders with no real fight aside from the nails that scrape over his velvety skin. "I'm too full and you damn well, a-ahhh, k-know it!"

A hard jab of his cock has made a splash of wetness spatter against his hard abdomen and she burns up with shame, feeling the wet glide of skin against her already distended belly.

"Too full, sweetling?" Her insatiable husband grins black and wide, slowing his thrusts and canting his pelvis against the spot that causes her nerves to jitter and more essence to drip past the root of his cock. "I think there's room for a few more of my whelps in your warm, little womb."

Her channel spasms around his obscene girth upon that and he taunts her with laughter. His sweet wife is rotten and can't help the twitching of her needy cunt at the thought of being bred round and full by her virile husband.

All of this is just play. The na-Baron doesn't like the idea of sharing the attention of his treasured toy with a bawling, nagging, vomiting offspring. She can all but pray that it remains this way. Forced into marriage and this play of pretend, she won't allow him to force her into anything else, or their marriage will end in a bloodbath.

"Mmmh, just be still, my darling. Your husband knows what's best for you." Feyd-Rautha picks up speed, stuffing himself into her slick hole despite her indignant whines about the change of tempo. "If you don't wanna keep still, I might just strap you in next time, put you in a harness like a broodmare and stuff you so full that my seed drips down your legs."

His cock jumps against her snug walls and he lets his head fall forward, drool on his lips when he empties himself with stuttering hips, forehead pressing against his wife's. She shivers when his eyes snap open, dark and yearning beneath blonde lashes.

With every rush of seed into her body, the artificially injected cocktail of enzymes that lies dormant in her blood induces a rush of amniotic fluid into her womb. The pressure makes her groan and whine and that's also how she knows it's not real, because it happens too fast.

Feyd reaches one hand between their bodies, the one with the wedding band, and pats her belly, whispering with gravelled breath how pretty she looks, swollen with his heir and how well she carries his Harkonnen brood.

The effect lasts only a couple of days— But Feyd-Rautha fucks his wife more often than that.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd x oc #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x oc #feyd imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd smut #feyd rautha smut #austin butler #kinktober 2024 #peggysuave kinktober 2024 #absurdthurst kinktober

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fictionismyreality3 · 1 year ago

Note

Hiiiiii I'm SO SO SO MADLY IN LOVE with your Stalker!Jason fic, the way you wrote it was just UGH TAKE ME (sure did put me to some quality sleep there).

I was hoping if you would write about Classmate!Jason (n kinda stalk-ish) where he is protective n stuff towards reader (much like sunshine x grumpy trope)

Love love loveeeeee your writing🖤🖤🖤

-🦇anon-

Make You Pay

Jason Todd x Reader

You’re my second emoji anon and as such I have adopted you and will not take no for an answer 😇

Tags: classmate!jason, stalker!jason, possessive!jason, jealous!jason, angry!jason, innocent!reader if you look really hard

Warnings: allusions to violence, motorcycles, stalking

Notes: no hate to surfer dudes ☮️

Your pencil hit repeatedly on the dark wood of the desk, sending little taps echoing throughout the otherwise quiet library. You had an exam in two weeks and were already struggling through the study material your professor provided for you. Passing this class seemed like a mile away. How the hell were you going to pass your biology final if the only thing you remembered was that mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell?

The only thing keeping you going at this point was picturing the cute faces of the puppies, kittens and other animals you’d get to help once you’d graduated. Using the last of your willpower, you moved on to the next slide deck, only for your laptop to give out on you, the screen going black. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey, baby, come take a break from studying.”

Okay, maybe you spoke a little too soon.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the curly, blonde headed figure of Holden coming your way, a sneer on his face. Despite the fact that your skin was crawling from the pet name, you began to hastily pack up your stuff, pretending not to see him.

It wasn’t that you were the type of girl to be complacent with poor intentioned men, but Holden had obviously taken your first day of class friendless a little too close to his heart.

“C’mon, baby. I know you see me.” He said, his words with an undertone of slimy sarcasm.

Sighing to yourself, you shoved the last of your papers into your bag and turned to face him, plastering a smile on your face as you began walking to the library exit.

“Sorry, I really have to go, my friends are waiting for me.” You said politely.

Making a beeline for the exit, you glanced back at Holden, hoping he didn’t follow you, and bumped into someone, your book bag scattering across the floor.

Big, calloused hands filled your field of view, handing you your books as you frantically gathered your things. Your gaze was met with the blue-green eyes of Jason Todd.

He wasn’t someone you knew very well, usually sitting in the back of the lecture halls where you preferred the front, but you’d seen him riding around campus on his motorcycle. From the limited interaction you did have with him, his lips always seemed to be pressed in a thin line of annoyance, or pulled down in a soft frown. So, you always tried your best to cheer him up, but the most you’d ever earned was a little snicker after a ridiculously bad joke.

You wondered why he had so much to frown about.

Before now, Jason hadn’t taken much notice of you, the bubbly girl who seemed to constantly radiate some level of happiness. At most he found you less annoying than then rest of the people on campus. Maybe it was because you looked so startled, innocently glancing between him and that blonde dickhead who was constantly on your ass. Maybe it was how he noticed your hands were so much smaller than his, brushing against his skin as he handed you your notebook.

Maybe it was because you were on your hands and knees, but Jay suddenly noticed the pretty colour of your hair, and the way your clothes reflected your sunny personality. Your eyes were a little more captivating and he found himself wanting to reach out and run his thumb along your bottom lip.

He also wanted to break the nose of that surfer looking idiot who was still talking.

“Here, don’t let ‘em bother you, sweetheart.” Helping you up, Jason ushered you to continue to wherever you were going. “Thank you?” You mumbled confused, the pet name hugging you like a warm blanket.

As you were practically pushed out the library doors, you looked back to see Jason exchanging words with Holden, who was getting more and more disagreeable. You were never the type to get involved in trouble, so you quickly turned on your heel and walked away.

When he was done with asshole Henry.. Harry? Jason didn’t care, he made his way to his bike, pulling out his phone and opening up an app, technology courtesy of Bruce. He wanted to make sure you got back to the dorms safely, and the tracker he’d slipped in your book bag would ensure that.

It wasn’t anything sinister, Jason just knew now that he had found something far too precious for this world, something that was too sweet and gentle to take care of itself. That’s okay.

He would take care of you now.

You saw Jason again a few days later. Holden didn’t show up to class that week, and nobody commented on Jay’s bloody knuckles.

#oneshot #jason todd #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader

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iamnotoriginalphil · 10 months ago

Text

Distracted (Kate Stewart x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You get horribly distracted around Kate leading you to agree to do something that may just make the entire thing worse.

Words: 8.5k

Warnings: smut, fake married, one bed trope, oral sex, boss/employee relationship, swearing, gross middle aged men

“Are you listening?”

“Hm?”

You looked up, finding dark eyes resting on you, a frown pulling down the corners of a mouth that had no right to look that good while annoyed with you. Kate Stewart, sitting across from you, lent back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. Which only made the listening thing more difficult when temptation was pushed up in a very pleasing way.

“You’re not,” Kate said.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked.

“You’re not listening at all,” she said.

It was with great effort that you dragged your eyes back up to her face. Her lips were pursed and you sighed, slumping in your seat.

“Sorry,” you said.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked, “you’re usually much better at pretending like you’re listening.”

A small chuckle reverberated in your chest but all you could do was shake your head. You couldn’t tell her the exact issue because then she’d know the exact issue. Which was you finding her incredibly distracting. Because she was incredibly gorgeous. And you wanted to put your mouth on her. All of her.

“I guess I’m just tired,” you said, “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping lately.”

Mostly because any time you closed your eyes you saw her. Usually doing things that were not appropriate to say out loud in the workplace. Especially to the boss. Especially when it was about the boss. And your fantasies about her.

“You should talk to medical about that,” she said.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you replied with a shrug.

“If it’s affecting your work, you should have that checked out,” she said.

She looked down to the tablet in front of her. A lock of blonde hair swung forward and you clenched your fingers to keep from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear again. You squeezed your eyes closed and tilted your chin down, pushing the impulse down as far as it would go.

“So we’ll be leaving on Friday,” she said.

“Leaving?” You really wished you’d been listening.

“For Scotland. We’ll be gone for the weekend. Pack warm,” she said, glancing up at you.

“Because we’ll be… doing… important work,” you said, nodding slowly.

“We’re going undercover to root out the nonhuman at this event,” she said, “they don’t know we’ve realised they’ve begun impersonating one of the people that will be there. So I’ve accepted the invitation and you’re my plus one.”

You could only gape at her.

“You really heard none of that, did you?” The iciness had begun to melt and the amusement was beginning to shine through.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. When you looked back to her, you made a concentrated effort not to look at the tantalising swell of her breasts or the exposed skin at her collarbone. Her lips had begun to lift at the corners and relief was sweet.

“So the whole weekend?” you asked.

“Leaving Friday, returning Monday morning,” she confirmed.

“And I need fancy clothes, right? Formal, rather,” you said when she raised an eyebrow at you.

“Best to be prepared,” she replied.

“I’m sure I can leave the bikini at home,” you quipped.

There was a moment when her eyes seemed to darken as they looked at you. You were sure you were seeing something, that it was just a change in the lighting.

“Perhaps for the best,” was her only reply.

_____*****_____

Friday afternoon came around far too quickly for your liking. Sitting on a train with Kate was alright. Working on separate things, it was quiet, comfortable, barely different from being in the office with her. The air was warm and when you looked, quite a nice view was going past the window.

Kate groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples as she flung her tablet down. You glanced up, nudging your open bag of crisps in her direction. She looked at you before taking one, crunching down on the potato.

“Problem?” you asked.

“I did not get into this line of work to be dealing with finances,” she said, “I’m not a bloody accountant.”

“No, you’re better. You’re every job rolled up into one,” you said.

“Just once I’d like it if someone else could put out the fires,” she said, taking another crisp.

“Unfortunately we don’t have anyone better,” you replied.

She sighed and her fingers returned to her temples. You nudged the undrunk cup of tea towards her. The smile she offered you was beleaguered and put upon. You nodded to it and she rolled her eyes, picking it up and pressing it to her lips. You waited until you saw her swallow, throat bobbing in a way that made you want to press your lips to her skin and make her do it again for a completely different reason.

“You need to stay hydrated,” you said, “and not just drink coffee all day.”

“You’re not my doctor,” she said.

“But I know you well enough to know you haven’t had any water today,” you replied, “or enough sleep I’d imagine.”

“Speaking of sleep,” she said, leaning forward, chin resting in interlocking fingers, “you seem more alert today.”

“Oh?” You weren’t sure where she was going.

“You’ve been sleeping better, then?”

“Oh.” You hadn’t, “I suppose.”

You’d been making a more concentrated effort to not be caught daydreaming about her. Certainly not in front of her. You didn’t need her to look into it more or force you to talk to one of the doctors when you knew the issue. And you certainly had no interest in explaining the issue.

You thought you’d rather let the world swallow you up than do that.

“Are you going to tell me this fabulous secret to getting more sleep?” she asked, snagging another one of your crisps.

“Tire yourself out,” you said, thinking about how you usually helped yourself get to sleep at night. All that fantasising had to come in useful eventually.

“And how would you suggest I do that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied.

“Well, what do you do?” she asked.

Your cheeks heated and you blinked at her, mouth falling open. There was no way to answer that appropriately. She waited patiently before she seemed to notice she wasn’t getting an answer. Her eyes slipped down your body before her tongue dragged over her lower lip.

“I see,” she said, voice lower than usual.

“I’m not suggesting you… it’s not… you do?” You weren’t even sure what you were saying at that point.

“I think I do,” she said, leaning back in her chair, bringing the cup of tea to her smirking lips.

“Right well, I’m going to go… get you some water,” you said, fleeing the scene.

When you returned she said nothing more about the conversation you’d been having, squinting down at the tablet. She took the water from you with a perfunctory thank you before she fumbled in her bag. Dark framed glasses were placed on her nose and you lost your breath.

You didn’t bother going back to your report, staring at her instad. You hadn’t seen her in the glasses before, and now you had, you knew they’d be playing a role in your fantasies from now on. You took a deep drink from your own water, knowing you had to look away but not able to. She was entirely too sexy with those heavy frames resting on her face.

She glanced up, brown eyes finding yours from behind glass. You were quick to look back down at your laptop as if you hadn’t been staring before darting up again.

“I know. Not one word. Growing older comes with some serious caveats,” she said.

“I like them,” you said, “they suit you.”

“Psh,” she said, flapping her hand at you but you could see the pleased tilt to her smile.

You continued working in silence until the train pulled to a stop. Rain was lashing the window and it was with difficulty that you navigated your luggage to the front of the station. Kate was holding the umbrella over your head, sheltering you as best she could.

Holding the door open, the driver UNIT had organised took the bags from you. You slid into the backseat with a sigh, leaning back in the soft leather. You closed your eyes, relaxing into the warmed chair.

“Tired?” Kate asked.

“I think it’s better if we don’t start that conversation again,” you said, “or else I’ll be forced to throw myself out of this car while it’s moving.”

“Point well made,” she said.

You slipped back into silence, the night pressing in at the window. You could see in the reflection she was also looking out her window, watching the scenery go by. The way she seemed to soften as she thought made you smile. Watching her when she didn’t think she was being watched was one of those things you rarely got to indulge in. You never failed to enjoy it when you could. Unguarded Kate felt like a privilege.

“Here you are, ma’am,” the driver said, pulling up on a gravelled drive.

“Thank you,” she said, pushing the door open.

She held the umbrella above as you grabbed the bags before you looked up.

“Oh my god,” you breathed.

“What?” she asked.

“We’re staying in a castle. A literal castle. Kate, this is a castle,” you said, turning to look at her.

The smile on her face was amused and a tad fond at your wide eyed wonder. Her hand landed on the small of your back, leading you towards the door.

“Try to look like you belong,” she murmured, leaning closer to you.

You shivered at her warm breath hitting your skin. She held the door open for you, then shook the rain out of her umbrella. After placing it in the holder waiting by the door, she swept you to the front desk.

“Stewart, checking in,” she said to the young woman behind the counter.

“Ah yes, we have you right here Mrs and Mrs Stewart,” she said, tapping at the keyboard of her computer.

Your cheeks heated and you opened your mouth to correct her. Kate pinched your hip, effectively silencing you. Your mouth shut with a snap, dragging your eyes over to her. She raised her eyebrows at you but you had no way to answer her.

“Alright, Wesley will show you up to your room,” she said.

A man had appeared behind you, taking the bags from you. Kate walked beside you up the stairs, her hand close enough to brush against yours. You glanced at her again, finding her already looking at you with a small smile. Wesley stopped outside a door, the key clunking in the lock.

The door opened onto an expansive suite, rich and luxurious. He put your bags down in the bedroom, lush carpet keeping his footsteps silent. He nodded to the two of you before closing the door.

“Kate?” you whispered.

“Sorry about that. They’re very strict about the kind of plus one we can bring to these events,” she said, walking away from you, leaving you gaping in the sitting area.

“I dunno about this,” you said, following her.

“You really weren’t listening when I explained this,” she said, ending on a laugh.

You stopped, realising there was only one bed. A very large, very soft looking bed. But only one. For the both of you. To share.

Oh no.

“They think we’re married,” you said, voice unsure and small.

“Newlyweds, in fact,” she replied over her shoulder, “do you want to shower first?”

“Uh, no, you go ahead,” you said, “what do you mean they think we’re newlyweds?”

“They didn’t have a wife on file for me. I had to let them know it was a new development,” she said.

She wandered into what you thought was the bathroom. Her gasp had you rushing in behind her. Crashing into her back, your hands clutched at her hips to keep the two of you upright.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Look at that tub. The things I’ll do to that tub,” she all but moaned.

Your cheeks heated again and you stepped back.

“I’ll uh, leave you alone with that,” you said.

“Quite right,” was her response.

You closed the door on the bedroom, curling up on the sofa, facing an already lit fireplace. You stared into the flames, trying to calm your racing heart. You couldn’t seriously be about to spend the weekend pretending to be your boss’s new wife. Your life had stopped making sense.

“Alright, you're up.”

You startled, not realising how long you’d been sitting there, trying to wrap your head around your situation. Kate was there in a set of sensible pyjamas, looking much more relaxed than she had all day.

“Right,” you said.

Getting up on wobbly knees, you passed her, rifling through your bag to find your own pyjamas. Not sensible, an old pair of shorts and an oversized shirt, you felt a flush of embarrassment. You hadn’t thought she’d be seeing them. You might have picked something that made you look a bit better than old clothes.

You took longer in the bathroom to shower and brush your teeth than was strictly necessary, but you figured you had the right after having this whole thing sprung on you. Gathering your courage, you stepped back into the bathroom.

The light was soft, a warm glow, the lamps on either side of the bed lit up. Kate was sitting in the bed, glasses perched on the end of her nose as she looked over a file in her hands. You froze, not realising that this was something you wanted to see. But now you couldn’t look away.

“I hope you don’t mind that I took the right side of the bed,” she said, glancing up at you from over the top of those thick frames.

“Oh, uh, no, that’s fine,” you replied, finally moving again.

Climbing into the bed beside her felt odd. Kate was usually so professional, all buttoned up and at a distance. This was so far outside the realms of your understanding you were certain you’d slipped into an alternate timeline. In the bed beside you she was all soft and tired, too domestic for you to be seeing.

“Tomorrow we have quite a busy day,” she said, plucking the glasses off her face.

“So we should sleep now,” you said, nodding.

“Indeed.” Her eyes swept over you for a moment, “but perhaps we don’t engage in our tiring activities to tempt sleep.”

“Okay, I’m ignoring you now,” you said, your embarrassment growing to a point you couldn’t handle anymore.

You rolled over, her chuckle warming you more than the down quilt you were burying yourself in. Squeezing your eyes closed, you waited for the lights to go out.

“Goodnight,” Kate whispered across the expanse of the bed before the lights went out.

It shouldn’t have felt impossible to relax in the bed, given it was big enough to not even notice another person was in it. Kate was so far away from you, you could barely feel her when she shifted on the mattress. On the edge of the bed, trying to give her more room, you held yourself so tight there was no opportunity to fall asleep.

A warm hand curled around your arm, tugging on you until you rolled onto your back.

“If you stay over there you’ll fall out,” Kate’s gravelly voice said from across the expanse.

You let her manoeuvre you into a more comfortable position, closer to her than before but still not close enough to really feel her. Her hand disappeared and you were left alone again. Her soft breaths were the only thing you could hear in the darkness. You tried to match your own breathing to them, hoping it would help you relax. She shifted and you froze.

This was a terrible idea.

After hours of doing your best to fall asleep, after what felt like minutes once you were, a strong hand was softly shaking you awake. You blinked into the sunlight, groggy and unsure of yourself.

“Rise and shine. Breakfast will be served in half an hour.”

You grumbled, pushing yourself up into a seated position, hair a tangle around your face. Kate was standing at the side of the bed, looking down at you, already dressed and looking perfect. You blinked again, rubbing at your eyes, trying to clear away the haze.

“Right, okay, yes,” you said.

Pushing the duvet off your legs, you stood, stumbling for a moment before she caught you. You dragged your eyes up to her face, finding her so close. You could feel the curves of her body, the brush of the wool of her jumper, the scent of her perfume clinging to her skin.

“Careful,” she murmured.

You jerked out of her hold, stumbling over to your bags again. You didn’t look at her as you scrabbled for clothes. Closing yourself in the bathroom, you took a deep breath, trying to push away the tiredness clawing at your eyes. One weekend, you could get through it. For Kate, you’d do a lot worse.

“Alright,” you said, exiting the bathroom, “let’s do this thing.”

She raised an eyebrow at you from her spot on the sofa. You waited until she shook her head and stood, holding an arm out to shuffle you towards the door.

“Is this what you’re like before you’ve had your morning coffee?” she asked.

“I suppose,” you replied, “no one ever really sees it.”

“Lucky me.”

The dining room was a hotbed of old masculine activity. You felt immediately out of place, in your jeans and jumper and non executive position in your organisation. Kate lifted her chin, staring down the room like she was in charge. Her hand settled on the small of your back again, leading you over to an empty table.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“You’re a goddess,” you said, sinking down onto the chair she’d held out for you.

She lingered a moment, looking down at you with a wide eyed gaze. You blinked, staring up at her, waiting for an admonishment. It never came.

“One cappuccino,” she said, placing a cup down in front of you.

“I could get used to this treatment,” you said.

“Kate,” a booming voice interrupted before she could say anything, “there was a rumour going around you might not make it this year.”

“And yet here I am,” she replied, shaking the hand of the middle aged man in a suit that probably cost more than your rent for an entire six months. And you lived in the heart of London.

“And this must be the new Mrs Stewart,” he said, turning his attention to you.

You got to your feet, holding a hand out to him. He brought it up to his mouth, lips brushing the skin of the back of your hand. Kate reached out, an arm wrapping around your waist, hand resting on your hip. It was a surprisingly possessive gesture and you were so focused on the warmth of her palm seeping through your layers you missed what he said next.

“Sorry, she’s a little tired this morning. Unfortunately we didn’t get as much sleep as we would have liked,” Kate said.

“Ah yes, newlywed bliss. I miss those days,” he said with a sage nod.

Your cheeks heated again and you couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Kate’s warm chuckle was the only thing keeping you holding it together. Lips pressed to your temple and you startled.

“Good work, Kate. She’s a beauty,” he said by way of parting.

She gave you a squeeze before releasing you. You sunk down onto the chair again, wrapping your hands around the warm cup she’d brought you. Sitting across from you, the table was small enough her foot brushed against yours.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

“Who was that?” you asked, finally taking a sip of coffee. Of course it was perfect. Of course she’d managed to know your order without being told. Of course she did.

“Donovan. Head of homeland intelligence. He’s never been best pleased with our interference,” she replied, looking at you over the rim of her own cup.

“Which explains why he was… flirting. That was what he was doing, right?” you asked.

“His version of it, yes. Bumbling fool that he is,” she said, “I should have warned you. People might use you to try and get the inside scoop on… me, I’m afraid.”

“I think they’re going to be disappointed. I’m a pretty loyal gal,” you said.

She reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together on top of the table. Your heart skipped a beat and for just a moment it was easy to believe the fiction you’d started. She took another drink from her cup, foot nudging yours under the table.

“You’ve always been good to me,” she said.

“It’s pretty easy,” you replied with a small shrug.

“I’m rather lucky to have you,” she said.

You looked at her from under lowered lashes, not sure what else to say. Anything more felt like you’d be slipping into dangerous territory where she might work out that your feelings were a bit more than professional. You didn’t want to be reassigned to a new division.

Breakfast passed with warm looks shared over food and too many introductions with important men and their wives as they tried to sniff out the competition. Kate bestowed smiles on you like they were free and the way she kept finding reasons to touch you was making your head spin.

And you were no closer to figuring out who the imposter was.

“Will you be okay on your own?” she asked once breakfast was done and you were about to split off.

“I’m sure I can manage,” you said, smiling up at her.

“That’s my girl.”

Her lips brushed your forehead and your breath caught in your chest. She gave your hand a squeeze before leaving you with the wives of the men she was going to investigate.

“Come on, love, we’ll take care of you.”

An arm threaded through yours, tugging you away from the retreating back of Kate. She glanced over her shoulder one last time before the doors were closed between the two of you.

“Ah, new love. We promise you’ll survive without her,” Elaine said, leading you into the sitting room.

“No, I know,” you stumbled over your words, “that’s not…”

“Relish these early days, my dear. Being this smitten won’t last forever and then it will be boring drudgery day in and day out,” she said, steamrolling over your words.

“And weekends away in Scottish castles,” you said.

The tittering laughs of the other wives made you look from face to face, trying to work out what was so funny. Elaine tightened her arm around yours, giving you an indulgent smile.

“I see why she likes you,” she said, “hard as nails that one but I suppose she has to be when she’s in the boy’s club.”

“Really?” No one at work would describe Kate as hard as nails. Kind, compassionate, tough at times but not some kind of steel lady.

“Oh yes. She holds her own with the men,” one of the other women, Helen, said, settling on an upholstered settee.

A swell of pride wasn’t what you’d been expecting but the distaste at the assumption she might not be up to it was. Of course Kate could hold her own. She was one of the most capable people you’d ever met.

“I bet you give her a run for her money,” Elaine said.

“Oh, I’m not sure-” you tried to say.

“But then you’re such a pretty young thing I’m sure you have her wrapped around your little finger,” Elaine continued,

You were not going to like the rest of the day if this was anything to go by.

After hours of invasive questions you did your best to dodge, you finally managed to get a moment to yourself, slipping away to your room upstairs. You were no closer to figuring out who was the disguised alien and all you felt was sympathy for Kate for dealing with this alone for years. Staring out the window on the expansive grounds, rain lashing at the windows, dark clouds pressing in, you tried to work through anything you might have learnt.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hello, wife,” you said, turning to look at Kate as she shut the door with her foot.

“Mm, I could get used to such a warm greeting,” she said, sauntering towards you with one hand in her pocket.

“Any luck?” you asked.

“None,” she replied, “you?”

“Well, all the women here seem to think I’m young and pretty enough to have you wrapped around my finger,” you said with a small shrug, “so nothing new.”

Her warm chuckle was throaty, making a shiver go down your spine. If only they knew who was really the one wrapped around a finger. If she asked, you’d impale yourself on the gate out front. Which would be concerning if you really thought about it.

“The ruse is going well then,” she said, “I spent the morning fielding questions about how I managed to convince you to marry me.”

“Oh, it was definitely the pay rise that came with it,” you said.

“Undoubtedly,” she chuckled.

She stood beside you, looking out on the rain. Shoulder to shoulder, you stayed in silence for a moment.

“These people suck, Kate. I don’t know how you do it,” you said.

“They don’t teach diplomacy in university but my god, I think they should,” she replied.

“Sorry,” you said, duly chastised.

“Oh no, you’re absolutely right. They’re an insufferable lot with too much ego and not enough sense between them to know when to quit,” she said.

You pressed your lips together trying to keep your laughter in, but once the first giggle slipped past you couldn’t stop. Her own face lit up, a smile spreading, eyes sparkling when she caught your eye. Her shoulder brushed yours as she lent closer, entering into your personal space.

“There’s no one I’d rather suffer through this weekend with than you,” she said, “you’ll at least see the humour in it when they inevitably put their foot in it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The way she was looking at you made you forget that this was all a lie. That you weren’t there with her for a ruse to find an alien. That there was something more between the two of you. You wished there was.

“Now, chop chop, we need to get dressed for dinner,” she said, breaking the moment.

“Oh god,” you groaned.

“Don’t be like that. If you’re lucky, there’ll be dancing.”

That thought didn’t comfort you as you threw on your dress and did your hair all pretty. Kate was gallant enough to let you take the bathroom, giving you the space to panic in peace as you prepared your game face. You weren’t one for fancy dinners and dancing. More like late night take away food and lounging on the sofa.

Stepping out of the bathroom, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you took a deep breath. You looked up, finding Kate staring at you, lips parted, something in her gaze that had your skin heating. Something about it was addictive and you wanted more. You always wanted more with her.

“Did I do okay?” you asked, voice soft, unsure, hand smoothing over the silk of your skirt.

“Wonderfully. I’ll be the luckiest person in that room tonight,” she said, taking slow sauntering steps towards you.

Your eyes skated over her body. The suit she was in was tailored to her body and your mouth grew dry. It wasn’t that different from how she usually dressed at work, if only a touch more formal. Her white shirt was unbuttoned just enough to be tantalising, and having the long column of her neck on display like that was making you lose your train of thought. You had to take a deep breath to chase away the thoughts of leaning forward and brushing your lips over her pulse point.

“Maybe I should make formal wear a requirement for your position,” she said, her eyes sweeping down your body then back up.

“I think that would be abusing your position of power,” you said, cheeks heating up.

“Quite right,” she said, stepping back, the familiarity disappearing from her face, “I suppose we should head down to dinner.”

She held her arm out to you, your hand threading through her elbow. Leading you down the stairs, you could hear music coming from the back of the castle. You took a deep breath and she paused a moment around the corner from the open doors.

“Ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied.

She lingered another moment and you thought she might be about to say something more. But then she put on a pleasant smile and steered you into the ballroom.

The room was lit by crystal chandeliers, warm light, soft and flattering, beautiful in a way that was hard to replicate for less money. The hardwood floors were polished and at the far end a string quartet were playing lovely music. Waiters were wandering around with trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres and the crowd of twenty people made the entire place feel empty and too big for their gathering.

“This is eerie,” you said.

“It’s a show of power. ‘Look how much money we have, beg us for some of it to keep your lights on’,” she murmured in your ear, “look suitably impressed. Here comes Donovan.”

“Ladies, you’re the last to arrive to our little gathering,” Donovan said, approaching the two of you.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, smiling at him.

“I hear you both cut out of the activities early this afternoon. Enjoying your suite in your newly wedded bliss?” he asked.

Your stomach roiled at the implication.

“I’m sure you remember what it’s like having a beautiful new wife,” Kate said, her arm once again curling around your waist.

“Indeed I do.” His eyes swept over your body and you did not feel the same warmth you had with Kate, “you’re a lucky son of a gun, Stewart.”

“Don’t I know it,” she said.

She pulled you half a step closer. Your body rested against the length of hers. Her hand rested on your hip and you curled an arm around her waist too. She looked down at you, smiling softly. You found yourself smiling up at her, not able to help yourself when she was looking at you like that.

“Harold, are you bothering the young people?”

Elaine slipped her arm through Donovan’s smiling at the two of you.

“Oh yes, you make a handsome couple,” she said, looking at the two of you.

“Thank you,” you said.

“It’s nice to see Kate finally settling down again. She’s been alone too long,” she said, “you’ve done her the world of good. Look at that glow.”

Her arm tightened around you, keeping you pressed along the long line of her body.

“I’m not doing much,” you said.

“You’re doing more than you know,” Kate murmured, lips brushing your temple.

“See, Harold, I told you their love was real,” she said, “you should hear how that one talks about Kate.”

“How do you talk about me?” she asked, looking down at you, that twinkle back in her eyes.

“Like a normal person would,” you said, that sense of embarrassment welling up again.

“She thinks the world of you,” Elaine said.

“Quite right,” she said, giving you one of those little smirks that had your heart skipping a beat, “luckily, I feel the same way.”

You felt yourself leaning closer to her, getting lost in her eyes. Soft fingers gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, lingering on your jaw long after it was necessary. Your lips parted, an ache starting in your chest, wanting to lean forward and close the distance, to taste her, to fall into her well of gravity.

“Oh honey, the dancing has started.”

You blinked, coming back to the moment. Leaning away from her, you took a deep breath, trying to settle your heart. Her gaze lingered, before she turned away, watching the couples begin to dance on the floor.

“Do you feel like there are less people here than this morning?” you asked, trying to count all the people.

“I think you might be right.” Dark eyes swept over the crowd, assessing the number of people in the ballroom, “that’s concerning.”

“They're not dead, right?” you asked.

“It’s too soon to tell,” she replied, then looked down at you, “I’m sure they’re fine.”

A stab of fear went through you. Sure, you were used to complicated situations, but killer aliens were more the purview of the Doctor than you. Kate’s arm tightened around you again, her steady body keeping you from falling apart in front of everyone. Your unsure smile seemed to amuse her more than worry her.

“Let’s dance,” she said, “see who is still here.”

She swept you onto the floor. Your hand settled on her shoulder, the other clasped in hers. She was perfunctory in her movements, keeping to the beat but not as graceful as you might have once thought. Still, being within the circle of her arms, bodies brushing together, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, it made your heart beat hard.

“At least three of the men are gone,” she said, pulling you closer, lips brushing your ear with each murmured word.

“But you saw them before returning to the room?” you asked.

“Mm,” she hummed, “keep an eye out for someone who is trying to get anyone alone.”

“What if they’re just trying to get off with someone?” you asked.

“Then that will be awkward for a moment but at least they won’t be dead,” she chuckled.

Her hand was warm as it skimmed over the skin of your back before it settled in the curve of your spine. Your breath caught and her eyes flicked back to you, an eyebrow pulling up. Your cheeks heated and you looked away, focusing on the couples dancing over her shoulder.

Helen was leaning over Elaine’s shoulder, whispering to her. Elaine stood, shooting a look over at the two of you before a small titter came from their lips. Older lady disapproval. That cut you deep to the core.

“I do look okay, right?” you asked.

“Darling, you’re beautiful,” she said, “dazzling. I doubt these men have seen anything so wonderful in many years. Donovan keeps looking at you like you’re something to eat.”

“I wish you hadn’t told me that,” you said.

“I agree, that went a bit too far. No one needs to know that about Donovan,” she replied, giving you a small smile, “now careful.”

She dipped you, giving you the chance to see the people behind you. Back arched, you waited a moment before she pulled you up again, closer than before, chest to chest. Your curves were melded against hers, and you could feel her breath brushing over the skin of your throat. You shuddered, not able to stop it. She chuckled, the vibrations reverberating through you like a tidal wave.

“I think you’re better at this than I am,” she said.

“Well, I did take a few years of dance when I was about 10,” you said.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said and you weren’t sure what her tone was but it made your stomach sink.

She twirled you, and in that moment when you couldn’t see her face, you felt a sense of panic. The feeling that she was trying to hide something from you grew, only making you more desperate to see face, to gauge her emotion. But then she pulled you back in, hand on your hip, swaying to the music as she let her forehead fall to rest against yours.

“May I cut in?”

You blinked, turning to find Donovan by your side. He was holding a hand out to you, a cocky grin on his face. You opened your mouth to reply, only for Kate to wrap her arm around you, keeping you pressed against her.

“Elaine has run off with Helen and I find myself in need of company,” he said.

“And what will I do without her?” Kate asked.

“I’m sure you can spare her for one dance.” His eyes swept down your body and disgust curdled in your stomach.

“Darling?”

You looked up into her face, finding something you hadn’t expected to find there. Annoyance and frustration and something you hadn’t seen in her eyes before.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

“You know I’ll always prefer to be with you,” you replied, really not wanting that man to put his hands on any part of you.

“Correct answer,” she said.

“You have her well trained,” Donovan said, interrupting the moment.

“I’m not sure that’s what-” Kate began to say.

“But you can loan her out to me for one dance, can’t you?” he said, “after all, Elaine seems to have slipped away with Helen to whisper in the corner and I find myself all alone.��

“I’m afraid I still require her,” she said, “I really don’t want to let her go just yet.”

You slid your own arm around Kate’s waist, keeping as close to her as possible. Her chin dipped towards you and it was like Donovan stopped existing. She was the only one that existed and the way she was looking at you made heat spread through you. She was definitely better at this than you. Those heated looks and the possessive touches and the dancing. It was all making your head spin and you had to keep reminding yourself it was all pretend.

“You never have to,” you whispered.

She drew closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped from you. Her eyes darkened as they darted down to your lips. You lent closer, not able to keep from practically begging her for a kiss.

The first brush of lips was soft, stealing your breath. You pressed closer, kissing her more firmly, your hand coming up to curl around the back of her neck. The small noise she made as your tongue swept along her lower lip had warmth pooling in your lower stomach. Her arm tightened around you as you melted against her.

The low wolf whistle interrupted you, thoughts rushing back into your brain after the emptiness her kiss brought. She pulled away from you, a stricken look on her face. Donovan was watching the two of you, looking as if he was enjoying the show more than the two of you had been, which was saying a lot given how you were feeling. She tugged out of your hold.

“I uh… I need a moment,” she said.

She turned on her heels and disappeared through the crowd. All you could do was watch her back as it got further from, disappearing through the doors of the ballroom.

“It appears as if you’re free for a dance now,” Donovan.

“Not so much,” you said, hiking up the skirt of your dress to chase after Kate.

Following her footsteps up the stairs, you chased her down the halls until you reached the door to your suite. Catching it before it could close, you slipped inside. Kate was pacing, hands shoved in her pockets, muttering under her breath.

“So,” you said, watching as she froze, “are we going to have to file paperwork with HR now?”

“I must apologise. We never discussed the boundaries of pretending to be in a relationship and I went too far. I would understand if you wanted to make a complaint with our HR department,” she said.

“What?” You’d already lost track of the conversation.

“I took the ruse too far and crossed your personal boundaries. I can only apologise and hope that you can forgive me,” she said.

“I don’t-”

“If you felt pressured in any way,” she interrupted, “you have my sincere apologies. The thought that I have ruined our working relationship with this brings me great pain. Not that I want to guilt you into dropping the issue.”

You ignored her, striding over. Both hands cupped her cheeks and you pulled her in, kissing her again, muffling the words against your lips. Her hands hovered a moment before they settled on your hips, pulling you closer again. Your tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her, wanting more. She groaned, deep in her chest, muffled in your mouth.

Your back hit the wall, pinned between it and her body. Your fingers found their way into her hair, tangling in the soft blonde strands, tugging until she made a small noise in the back of her throat. You arched against her, begging her for more.

Her hands slid up your body, cupping breasts through the silk of your dress. You moaned her name as her lips began to trail down your neck. Your head fell back, giving her the access she wanted. Her tongue ran over your skin, making you gasp, gripping onto her hair tighter. When her teeth sunk in, a groaned curse fell from your lips, arching into her touch, fire coursing through your veins.

“Fuck, darling,” she moaned against your neck, “what are we doing?”

“What we should have been doing months ago,” you replied.

“Months ago?”

She pulled back, raising an eyebrow at you. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, watching how her eyes focused on it. Her thumb brushed against your hardening nipple, your hiss making her smirk down at you.

“Months?” she asked again.

“I might have had a bit of a crush,” you said.

“Around that trip to York to chase the ghost?” she asked.

“Uh huh,” you said, focused on the way her thumb was making you feel.

“That’s about the time you started being so distracted,” she hummed, thoughtful, tortuous in how slow she was touching you.

“I suppose so,” you said, breathless, watching her from under hooded eyes.

“Now that does explain a lot,” she said before swooping in to kiss you again.

Her name was muffled against her lips. Fingers scrabbled with the zip of your dress, tugging it down. Sure hands pulled the top of your dress down, dragging it over your arms, leaving you exposed. Her hands found their homes on your breasts again, skin against skin making your head spin.

You moaned her name, your own fingers making short work of the buttons on her shirt, pushing it from her shoulders. Her mouth was finding a home on your neck as fingers pinched your hardened buds. Your hands were travelling over the skin of her back, warm and soft against your palms and you wanted more. She was murmuring something into your skin, her tongue tasting you.

“Just to be clear,” you gasped as she rolled one of your nipples between thumb and forefinger, “we’re not pretending anymore, right?”

“Correct,” she said, lips brushing your skin, “this is very, very real.”

“Okay good,” you sighed, pressing closer to her.

Her hands pushed your dress over your hips, letting it pool at your feet. You kicked it away before she swept you up into her arms. Your legs wrapped around her waist, your fingers tangling in her hair again as you tipped her head up. Leaning down, you kissed her deeply, your tongue in her mouth, tasting her.

When she placed you down on the side of the bed, she knelt in front of you, looking up at you with smouldering eyes and smirking lips. Her fingers were slow as they unbuckled your heels, fingers brushing over your skin in a way that had you trembling.

“You’re so beautiful, darling,” she murmured, “do you really want this?”

“God, yes, Kate. Fuck, if you don’t do this I’m going to be so angry,” you said.

“Well, I can’t have that,” she said.

Her lips skimmed over your calf, teasing you as she took her time to reach the apex of your thighs. Her mouth ghosted over your underwear covered core, humming when she realised you had soaked through them. Your fingers were tangled in her hair, pressing her closer as your legs spread further apart, trying to coax her closer.

Her fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear, slow to drag them down your legs. She paused a moment, her breath ghosting over your heat, making your hips arch off the bed, begging her closer. She chuckled, eyes finding yours. Your mouth opened, ready to admonish her, cut off when her tongue swiped through your folds.

Your hips rose into her mouth as you fell back on the bed. The groan that fell from your lips felt filthy and her gratified answering groan had you tightening your fingers in her hair. She took her time, exploring you, tasting until you were breathless and begging her for more. She mostly ignored you, teasing you, dark eyes staring up your body as you clutched at your own breast, touching yourself until you were gasping for breath.

Her lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, sucking, her fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as she kept you spread out for her. Her name was a chant, a prayer, a moan as you urged her on. Fire was creeping through your veins, burning away the person you were before, leaving you a phoenix to rise from the ashes of your desire. Her tongue was insistent on you, making you gasp, hips rolling against her face as you chased your high.

It was the vibration of her moan that had a wave of pleasure breaking over you. The cry of her name from your lips was loud to your own ears but it was hard to care when her mouth was still on you and your orgasm was still singing in your veins.

You tugged on her hair, pulling her up your body, letting her press her lips to your skin along the way before you kissed her, tasting yourself on her tongue. Her hands were sure on your body, holding you tight as she kissed you, humming her approval as your legs curled around her waist.

“Why are you still dressed?” you mumbled against her lips.

“Because you’re not very effective at undressing me,” she replied.

“You distracted me,” you complained, pouting when she drew away from you.

“Hasn’t that been your problem for months now?” The corner of her lips pulled up and you knew she was teasing you but you still wrinkled your nose.

“Fine, then I won’t undress you as I let you distract me again,” you said, “I won’t even listen to you and just agree with anything you say.”

“Mm, I like the sound of that,” she murmured, swooping in to kiss you again.

It wasn’t until the morning, wrapped up in her arms, warm body pressed along your spine that you allowed yourself to consider the actual purpose of your trip again. Soft lips trailed over your shoulder, the hands on your body holding you in place against Kate’s body. You hummed, slow to roll over and look at her in the morning light. The light was warm, lighting her up like she was glowing from the inside out. Curling an arm around her neck, you nuzzled against her.

“I could get used to this,” you said.

“If we weren’t here for work, I’d suggest we stay right here,” she said, “all day in bed, nothing to interrupt, just giving in to any impulse we might have.”

“But we have to find an alien that is abducting people,” you said on a sigh.

Her hand skimmed down your body before she sat up, the covers pooling around her waist. Your eyes trailed over her body, considering everything you’d do if you were able to stay in bed all day with her. A very naked Kate Stewart was certainly a nice view to have first thing in the morning.

“Are you distracted again?” she asked.

“Can you blame me?” you asked, fingertips brushing along her spine.

“You’re insatiable,” she murmured, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Only for you,” you groaned when she pulled away.

“Come on,” she said, standing from the bed, “we have an investigation to finish.”

It was during your shower that it hit you. Not even bothering to grab a towel, you rushed back into the bedroom. Kate looked up from where she was bent over, putting on her shoe on the edge of the bed.

“If this is your attempt at convincing me to stay in for the rest of the day,” she said, standing, tongue dragging over her lower lip as her eyes traced over your wet body, “it’s working.”

“It’s Helen,” you gasped, grabbing her forearms.

“I’m not following,” she said, the lascivious look dropping from her face.

“Helen is the alien,” you said, “she took Elaine off during the ball last night. I saw them talking together. Donovan even told us she’d taken her away into a corner and couldn’t find her afterwards. And she kept trying to convince me to take a walk with her through the rose garden alone. I put her off by talking about you but she kept trying to get me alone.”

“What did you say about me? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you sure?” she asked.

“Positive,” you said, “it’s her.”

She pulled you in, a perfunctory kiss placed on your lips before she turned away, pulling out her mobile phone. You dried off, listening to her call in the rest of the team, explaining your theory to them. She turned, watching as you pulled on your clothes, the appreciative look obvious even from across the room. When she hung up, her eyes were dark and you were breathless.

“You’re brilliant,” she said, cupping both your cheeks and pulling you in for another kiss.

You laughed, muffled against her lips as your hands settled on her hips. It was warm and soft and so achingly good you never wanted it to stop.

“We should be downstairs when the team arrives,” she said, pulling away just enough to speak.

“Fine, but if we’re getting the train back to London I want a private compartment with you,” you said, tangling your fingers through hers.

“You can have whatever you want,” she promised.

Your eyes swept over her body and she chuckled, warm and throaty and you knew she knew exactly what you were thinking. Her arm slipped around your waist, directing you towards the door. You rested your head on her shoulder, snuggling into her side.

“We are definitely going to have to file paperwork with HR now,” she said.

“Fine, but you should know I’m going to be even more distracted now that I know for certain how good you are in bed,” you said.

“As you should be,” she chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again.

#kate stewart x reader #kate stewart #kate lethbridge stewart #kate stewart imagine #doctor who imagine

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