#very much hope you enjoy the new chapter and oh my goodness if you have the time it would make my absolute MONTH to hear what you think 💜

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

🌸 !!CHAPTER FOUR POSTED!! 🌸

Title: Four Walls

Tags: slow burn, domesticity, friends to lovers, smut, pining post sias/pre am era

Summary: Disillusioned with LA and on the heels of a breakup, Alex goes to stay with Miles in London.

[claramelooo]

YeY, my readers! Another chapter to brighten up your lonely nights.

I'm thinking about posting a chapter every day while I'm on vacation, but don't hunt me down if I'm late with a chapter LOL

Enjoy it! <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: +18, NSFW

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem reader

Summary: Your relationship with Wanda deepens more and more after the kiss.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider

VELVET CHAINS

The Lamb

Mornings began to take on a new rhythm. Your phone buzzed with punctual messages, always at the same time, as the sunlight painted the sky a soft orange.

"Good morning, my darling. I hope you slept well. I'm thinking of you."

You read the message with your heart pounding as if it were the very first time. Each word brought an involuntary smile to your lips, and your response was swift: a shy emoji, a short phrase. Wanda always replied quickly, her tone steady and composed, subtly steering the conversation with a calm confidence that was nearly impossible to disrupt.

The days passed like a carefully choreographed dance. In the library, stolen moments were brief enough to go unnoticed by others yet intense enough to set your body ablaze and your heart racing.

You were arranging books in the history section when you sensed her presence before even seeing her. That familiar, subtle perfume—already uniquely tied to Wanda in your mind—reached you before her voice.

"Need help with that?"

Her tone was casual, but when you turned around, her eyes gleamed with something deeper. Without waiting for your reply, she stepped closer, taking one of the books from your hands. Her fingers brushed against yours, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stop.

"Sure," you replied nervously, feeling your face heat under her intense gaze.

She was so close that her body heat seemed to wrap around you like an invisible blanket. As she examined the book she’d taken from you, her head tilted slightly, almost absentmindedly. You couldn't help but notice how every movement she made seemed deliberate, as though even the act of flipping through pages carried an unspoken intent.

"History section, huh?" she commented with a small smile, her fingers lightly grazing the pages. "I've always found it fascinating how some things never change, no matter how much time passes."

You swallowed hard. "Well… I guess some stories are timeless."

"I agree," she said, lifting her gaze to meet yours. "Like us."

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. It was incredible how easily she left you speechless with a simple comment. Before you could recover, Wanda leaned slightly, placing the book back on the shelf. The gesture seemed casual, but her proximity sent your heart into overdrive.

"You know," she said with playful mischief, "there’s a library rule against inappropriate behavior."

"I… didn’t know that," you stammered, trying to ignore the fact that her body was almost touching yours.

"Oh, there is," she confirmed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned closer. "Something about not kissing anyone between the shelves."

You blinked, startled. "I don’t think that’s in the rules…"

"It should be," she murmured, her voice low and husky, "because it makes me want to break them."

Before you could react, she stepped back with a triumphant smile, holding another book she seemed to have chosen at random. "I’ll take this one," she said, as if the charged tension between you didn’t exist.

Then, just as she was about to walk away completely, Wanda leaned in again, this time whispering near your ear, "That short skirt of yours is driving me crazy."

You froze, heat flooding your body as she walked away, her soft laughter echoing between the shelves. Her words lingered in your mind, your body reacting even before you could fully process them. A shiver ran down your spine, and your skin seemed to burn under the weight of her suggestion.

When you finally managed to turn to look at her, she was already a few steps away, pretending to peruse another book. But the sly smile on her lips gave away her true intentions.

"Wanda…" you called softly, your voice shakier than you intended.

She turned slowly, her eyes alight as though savoring every second of your reaction. "Yes, darling?"

You swallowed hard, searching for something to say, but the words escaped you. All you could think about was the way she looked at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world at that moment.

"You’re teasing me," you finally managed, trying to sound firm, though your voice trembled slightly.

Wanda took a step closer, then another, until she was so near you could feel the heat radiating off her. "Teasing?" she repeated, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You think I’m teasing?"

Your breath hitched as she raised a hand, her fingertips tracing a light line along your arm. The touch was almost imperceptible, yet it felt like fire against your skin.

"Because if I am teasing," she continued, tilting her head, "you wouldn’t be reacting like this."

"I’m not reacting," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, though it betrayed the lie.

Wanda laughed softly, a low sound that reverberated through you, as if she could see right through your fragile facade. Taking another step closer, she closed the already small distance between you until her warmth was nearly suffocating.

"Not reacting?" she questioned, her tone dripping with disbelief as she arched an eyebrow. "Then why are your cheeks burning?"

Your lips parted to respond, but no sound came out. Her proximity, her voice, and the intensity of her gaze left you completely disarmed. When you tried to step back, Wanda moved with you, maintaining the impossibly close distance.

"Y/n," she whispered, her voice low and rough as her fingers traveled up your arm, stopping at the curve of your neck. "Do you really think you can hide this from me?"

Your eyes locked with hers, and the weight of her gaze seemed to pierce straight through you. It was overwhelming, like she could see every thought and emotion you were trying to bury.

"I… I don’t know what you’re talking about," you managed to say, but your voice shook, and Wanda’s eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and desire.

"Don’t you?" she replied, leaning closer, her breath warm against your skin. "Then why are your lips trembling when I’m this close?"

Her fingers trailed along your jawline until she gently tilted your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze.

"Why don’t you tell me what you’re really feeling, hmm?"

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening under the intensity of the moment. "Wanda, I…"

"Come on, sweetheart," she interrupted, her eyes darkening as she tilted her head, her lips hovering mere millimeters from yours. "I’m waiting."

The silence between you was electric, the air so thick it was hard to breathe. And then,almost instinctively, you closed your eyes, surrendering completely to the moment."I… I’m nervous."

Her lips twitched into a predatory smile—a wolf savoring its prey.

Hearing your confession, Wanda finally closed the gap, her lips capturing yours with an almost calculated precision yet brimming with fervor. The kiss demanded a response, coaxing you to cast aside any hesitation or fear.

You clung to her, your hands gripping her arms like lifelines, and Wanda pulled you closer, her fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in a possessive grip.

When she pulled back, her eyes gleamed, and her victorious smile left you breathless.

"That’s all I needed," Wanda murmured, her voice soft as her fingers trailed through your hair. "Just a little honesty."

“Wanda…” you whispered to yourself, finally letting out the breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. The sound of footsteps in the distance made the two of you step apart. She smiled, that lazy, secretive smile, as she adjusted her hair like nothing had happened. Yet, before you could even try to collect yourself, you heard her voice from the next section:

“Oh, and darling? Bring me a coffee. I like mine strong, no sugar, and hot. Just like you.” She winked at you, teasing.

With your face completely red, you tried to focus on organizing the books, but you knew her smile would be the last thing you’d be able to forget that day.

“I’ll be back later,” she said in a nonchalant tone, leaving you there with trembling legs and a racing heart.

At night, the pattern repeated. As you climbed the stairs to your room after a family dinner, you checked your phone, and there she was again, as if she were everywhere all at once.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I wish you were here with me right now.”

And then came the calls, always after your study sessions—long calls filled with comfortable silences, soft laughter, and conversations that seemed simple but always carried an undertone. You felt, somehow, that Wanda was shaping you, pulling you deeper into her world.

Wanda, on the other hand, felt alive again. The world, once so predictable, had gained color once more. Every shy smile of yours, every hesitant response, was like a spark reigniting something she hadn’t realized had gone out.

The control she held over you was like a masterpiece she sculpted with patience and care. But beneath her obsession, there was something deeper: a silent fear that you might slip away.

Still, she never let it show. The next day, the ritual began again, and you, without even realizing it, surrendered more and more to the web Wanda wove around you.

Wanda sat at the dinner table, twirling a wine glass in her hand with a distracted air. Vision moved through the room with calculated steps, his presence always meticulous, always restrained. But tonight, there was something different. The tension in the air was almost tangible.

“You’ve been… distant,” he began, stopping beside the table. His voice was calm but carried a concern that didn’t feel genuine.

“Distant?” Wanda repeated, not lifting her gaze from the glass. A light, almost ironic smile played on her lips. “I’d say busy.”

Vision sighed, pulling out a chair to sit down. He placed his hands on the table, fingers interlaced. “Busy, then? With what, exactly? It doesn’t seem to be with the family.”

His tone was accusatory, but Wanda didn’t flinch. She lifted her gaze, finally meeting his eyes. Hers were calm, cold. “With what I’ve always been: trying to keep everything running. Someone has to do it, since you’re always off on your ‘business trips.’”

“Oh, so that’s it?” Vision asked, leaning slightly forward. “This is about me? About my trips? Wanda, you knew from the beginning that my work was part of who I am.”

“Just as my life is part of who I am,” she countered, her voice gaining a firmness that made him hesitate. “And yet, you expect me to mold myself to your world, to fit into it without question. But maybe I’ve started questioning.”

Vision blinked, confused, trying to grasp what she meant. “Wanda, that’s not fair. We built this together.”

“Built?” She laughed, but there was no humor in her laugh. “Vision, we followed a script. One you wrote, but never bothered to ask if I wanted to act in it.”

The silence between them was deafening until Vision, weary, shook his head. “What do you want, Wanda? What’s the solution to this?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she let her gaze wander around the room. The walls, the furniture, the carefully organized life they had built together. A life that, not long ago, had seemed enough.

But now...

Her thoughts drifted to you. To the warmth of your shy smile, to the way your eyes lit up when she said something that touched you. Thinking of you was like breathing fresh air after years of suffocation.

The weight on Wanda’s shoulders eased instantly. As if all the problems with Vision, all the arguments, were nothing but distant noise.

“I don’t know what I want,” she finally replied, standing from the table and picking up her wine glass. “But I know I won’t find the answer here.”

She left the room without looking back, leaving Vision alone, lost in his thoughts. Climbing the stairs, Wanda felt lighter. The world seemed less oppressive when she thought of you.

[...]

Another Sunday, another sermon. The day dragged on at a pace Wanda found nearly cruel. The pastor spoke enthusiastically about patience as a virtue, though ironically, he seemed to lack any urgency in concluding his message. She sat on the pew with her arms crossed, trying not to sigh audibly.

Her sharp eyes scanned the congregation, searching for anything to distract her restless mind. But there was nothing beyond familiar faces, whispered conversations, and children failing to stay still.

Same as always, she thought, as boredom settled in with a vengeance.

But then, as the sermon finally drew to a close, Wanda caught something intriguing. Two rows ahead, her mother was speaking with Dotty. Their voices were low, almost conspiratorial, but Wanda had a near-supernatural ability to pick up details when she wanted to.

A fragment of conversation snagged her attention.

"I just don’t know if we can trust leaving her alone. She’s so... restless at times," her mother’s soft, worried voice floated over, accompanied by polite smiles exchanged with Dotty.

"Wouldn’t it be a good idea to take her with you?" Dotty suggested, leaning in slightly.

"Oh no, that would ruin the mood of the trip. We need some time for ourselves," her mother replied, sounding embarrassed. "But I also can’t leave Y/n completely unsupervised. She needs someone responsible, someone who understands her... challenges."

Wanda nearly laughed aloud at that. Challenges? It was an almost endearing understatement.

Curiosity piqued, she rose discreetly, adjusting the tight dress that hugged her silhouette perfectly. Her steps were light, almost inaudible, as she approached the two women. Once close enough to be noticed, she smiled politely, her expression more friendly than genuine.

“Hello, ladies! What do you talk about?” Wanda delivered her most dazzling and irresistible smile to the pair.

Both Dotty and your mother turned simultaneously, visibly startled by the sudden interruption. But Wanda knew how to disarm any reaction with her magnetic presence and impeccably practiced smile.

“Wanda! What a surprise to see you wandering over to this side,” her mother responded, clearly grateful for the unexpected distraction. “We were discussing the trip my husband and I are planning.”

“Oh, a trip,” Wanda said, her eyes lighting up with apparent curiosity. “Where to?” She infused her voice with interest that sounded fake to her but seemed to escape her mother’s notice.

“A second honeymoon in Santorini,” her mother replied with a hint of pride, while Dotty murmured something impressed.

“How romantic,” Wanda murmured, tilting her head slightly. “But you seem tense, dear. What’s the matter?”

Your mother sighed, adjusting her pearl necklace in a nervous gesture. “My concern has a name and a rebellious streak, as you know… Young people these days,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes before continuing. “I don’t want to leave Y/n alone, you know how she is... independent, yet still so young.”

Wanda’s brow furrowed, a slight crease of concern appearing on her face. She sat down beside the two women, as if genuinely interested. “Y/n is truly a special young lady. And you’re right; leaving someone so sweet and full of life alone could be risky. There are so many dangers...”

“Exactly!” your mother exclaimed, seemingly comforted by Wanda’s empathy.

“Well,” Wanda continued smoothly, “if you need someone to look after her while you’re away, I’d be happy to help. I already spend a lot of time with her at the library and have developed quite a... fondness for her.”

Dotty narrowed her eyes briefly, but her expression quickly returned to neutral. Your mother, on the other hand, lit up with immediate relief.

“Would you really do that? Oh, Wanda, that would be a godsend. I’ve been so worried.”

“Of course,” Wanda responded, placing a reassuring hand on her mother’s shoulder. “It would be my pleasure. Besides, Y/n and I get along very well. I’m sure she’ll feel comfortable with me.”

“Perfect then,” your mother said, visibly lighter. “I’ll confirm the travel details and let Y/n know tonight. You’re an angel, Wanda.”

Dotty, however, observed in silence, her faint smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You’re very kind, Wanda,” she remarked, her voice carrying something that might have been admiration or suspicion.

Wanda simply smiled, not letting her perfect mask slip. “I enjoy helping where I can.”

As she walked away, Wanda felt a wave of satisfaction swell inside her. The thought of having you under her roof, within the comfort of her home, made something tighten in her chest in a way that was almost painfully sweet.

“My little one,” she thought, nearly laughing at the irony. “They have no idea how much you’re already mine.”

The day had finally arrived. The morning seemed brighter than usual, sunlight flooding the living room as your parents finalized preparations for their trip. Your mother was radiant, dressed in an elegant outfit with a smile as bright as the sky outside. Your father, more reserved, was still double-checking the documents and tickets with his usual seriousness.

You were sitting on the couch, hugging a pillow, trying to mask the unease you felt. It wasn’t their trip that bothered you but the idea of spending so much time under Wanda’s watchful eyes.

“Sweetheart, come here,” your mother called, breaking through your thoughts. You got up slowly and walked over to her. She held your hands, squeezing them affectionately. “I know it feels strange to leave you here, but I promise it’ll be quick. And Wanda is wonderful; you’ll be in good hands.”

“Yes, Mom,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you actually felt.

Your father approached, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Be a good girl and don’t give us any reason to worry, okay?”

Before you could respond, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house. It was her.

Your mother opened the door with an enthusiasm that seemed slightly forced, though you knew she truly trusted Wanda. And there she was: impeccable as always, dressed in neutral tones but exuding a natural sophistication that was magnetic.

“Wanda! So good to see you,” your mother exclaimed, giving the woman a brief hug.

“Good morning,” Wanda replied with a warm smile, her eyes discreetly flicking to you for a fraction of a second before returning to your parents. “I hope you’re excited about your trip.”

“Oh, very,” your mother said, pulling Wanda inside. “And you’re sure it’s no trouble to take care of her?”

“Not at all,” Wanda said quickly, casting a glance your way that made your stomach tighten. “It’ll be a pleasure. Y/n is a lovely young woman, and we’ve already spent quite some time together at the library. It’ll be wonderful to have more time with her.”

Your mother smiled, satisfied with the answer. After a few more hurried goodbyes, your parents finally left, promising to call as soon as they landed.

The door closed, and suddenly, the house was silent—a silence that seemed to hang heavy in the air. You and Wanda stood still for a moment, her eyes fixed on yours in a way that made your skin tingle.

“So,” she began, breaking the silence, her voice soft but carrying something you couldn’t quite decipher. “Just the two of us now.”

There was a calm certainty in her words, one that made you feel any resistance would be futile. She smiled, picking up your small suitcase and setting it aside.

“Where should we begin?” she asked, her gaze almost predatory as it locked onto you.

Your blood rushed to your cheeks, and you offered her a shy smile. “Hi…” you whispered.

Wanda bit the corner of her lip and strode toward you, her hands finding your waist. “Hi, little one…” she purred into your ear, making you gasp. “I missed you.”

Wanda pulled you into a firm yet gentle embrace, enveloping you completely. Her arms around your waist felt both protective and possessive, and you couldn’t help the slight shiver that ran down your spine. Her scent—a mix of expensive perfume and something inherently her—surrounded you, and you almost closed your eyes, as if you could lose yourself in that moment.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Wanda murmured, her voice low and melodic, as if it were a secret shared only between the two of you. “How did you manage so well without me around?”

Your voice faltered for a second before you managed to respond, a slight tremor in your words. “I… don’t know. But I’m glad you’re here now.”

She pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her fingers reaching up to brush aside a strand of hair that had fallen onto your forehead. The touch was soft but deliberate, and you felt your face heat even more under her intense gaze.

“You’re so sweet,” Wanda said with a smile that seemed maternal but carried something more, something that made your pulse quicken. “And so obedient… I bet you did well.”

You lowered your eyes, feeling both embarrassed and strangely pleased by her words. It felt so comforting, her treating you this way… maternal? Wanda tilted her head, studying you as if reading every thought.

“It’s okay, Dekta. You can relax with me,” she said gently, her fingers now lightly caressing your cheek. “Let me take care of you, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything now.”

You nodded, your submission clear and genuine in the gesture. Wanda seemed pleased, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. Your posture was stiff, almost awkward—as if you weren’t used to this kind of comforting presence.

Wanda noticed your hesitation, the way your shoulders remained tense as if you still weren’t sure whether to relax or keep your defenses up. She didn’t rush anything; instead, her movements were calculated, gentle, as if handling something fragile and precious.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” she whispered, taking your hand and guiding you onto her lap. “Sit here.”

You obeyed without thinking, settling onto her lap with your hands nervously resting on your knees. Wanda didn’t speak for a moment, simply letting her presence envelop you, her calmness radiating until it began to seep into you.

When she placed a hand at the curve of your neck, the weight seemed to dissolve all the tension you’d been holding. She slid it gently down your back, drawing lazy, soothing circles that sent waves of warmth across your skin. You closed your eyes reflexively, feeling strangely safe, as if there was no danger in the world while you were there under her touch.

“There,” Wanda murmured, more to herself than to you. “Let it all go. Everything holding you back, everything weighing on you… you don’t have to carry any of it now. Not while you’re with me.”

She pulled you closer, making you rest your face against her chest. You felt it rise and fall with her steady, deep breaths. She began to hum softly, and the vibration in her chest lulled you further into relaxation.

Your eyelids grew heavier, and heavier, and heavier. Until the last thing you heard was a barely audible whisper.

“Mommy will make it all go away…”

Wanda felt you completely relax in her arms, the weight of your body now light and surrendered. It was a unique, almost intoxicating sensation to realize how much you trusted her, how willing you were to let go. She knew this went far beyond the physical. It was something emotional, visceral.

She observed you for a moment, your long lashes resting on your cheeks as your breathing slowed, rhythmic and calm. Every small movement of yours seemed so innocent, so vulnerable, that Wanda felt a surge of emotions she hadn't realized she was capable of experiencing. A mix of tenderness, possessiveness, and something burning deep within her: the need to care for you, to protect you... to have you entirely for herself.

She ran her fingers through your hair, gently combing it as she murmured soothing words, almost inaudible. "Good girl… so sweet, so mine…"

Each word was a quiet reminder to herself, an affirmation of the bond she was building between you. Wanda felt a maternal warmth growing in her chest, something she hadn’t felt since her own children. But this was different, deeper. With you, she didn’t just want to protect; she wanted to mold. To guide you until you completely depended on her.

She tilted her head, her lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss. A sigh escaped her lips as she allowed herself to sink into the moment, into this role that felt so natural to her. You were perfect like this, Wanda thought. Fragile, delicate, needy.

“My little girl,” she murmured again, with a small, satisfied smile.

And there was something more—a feeling of quiet power. She knew you needed her, that you trusted her in a way no one else could. And it fed something dark and secret within her, a desire to keep you exactly like this: dependent, submissive, hers.

Wanda watched as you slept, your features soft and relaxed. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to disrupt the moment. But at the same time, a part of her was already planning what would come next.

She wasn’t in a hurry. You had all the time in the world, and Wanda was willing to make it last. To mold you little by little, to tear down any remaining barriers, until you no longer remembered who you were without her.

“I’ll take care of you, Dekta,” she whispered, more to herself than to you. “Forever.”

[...]

You wake up with a start, as if everything has been a dream. However, you find yourself in your room, covered with soft blankets that do not seem like your own. You feel light, in such an intense state of relaxation that it leaves you lethargic.

Descending your stairs, you find two packed suitcases leaning against the door. Reaching the kitchen, you see Wanda taking something out of the oven and upon seeing you, she offers you a brilliant smile.

“Look who’s awake…”

You blink, still drowsy, trying to process the scene in front of you. Wanda is there, impeccable as always, with an apron tied around her slim waist, her hair perfectly arranged, her face illuminated by that smile that seems both welcoming and… dangerous.

“Did you sleep well, Dekta?” she asks, her soft voice laden with a warmth that makes you blush instantly.

You murmur something inaudible, feeling a bit awkward under her penetrating gaze. Wanda places the dish on the counter and approaches slowly, like a predator observing its prey.

“You looked so calm,” she says, her eyes scanning your face, every reaction being silently noted. “I made sure you needed this rest.”

“I… thank you,” you murmur, swallowing hard as she continues to approach.

“No need to thank me, dear,” Wanda replies, now close enough for you to feel the warmth of her body. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

You nod, your throat dry, unable to find words. The way she looks at you, like she can see right into your soul, is both disarming and captivating.

“Come,” Wanda says, extending her hand to you. “Sit down. I made something special.”

You hesitate for a moment before accepting her hand. Her warm fingers wrap around yours, and the touch is enough to make your heart race. She guides you to the table, where plates are elegantly arranged with a breakfast that looks like it came from a culinary magazine.

Wanda pulls a chair out for you, her eyes never leaving yours as you sit down. She leans slightly, adjusting the blanket still draped over your shoulders, and whispers: “Are you comfortable, my little girl?”

You can only nod, feeling your cheeks burn. There is something about the way she says these words, the way she takes care of you, that makes your head spin.

As you eat, Wanda sits across from you, watching with a calm yet unyielding intensity. Each time you look up at her, you feel a warmth rising up your spine.

“You seem nervous,” she comments with a subtle smile, tilting her head. “Is everything alright, Dekta?”

“I just…” you hesitate, your fingers playing with the fork. “I’m not used to… this.”

“To what?” she asks, her voice low and inviting, her eyes fixed on yours.

“To someone taking care of me like this,” you admit, your voice a bit shaky.

Wanda smiles, this time with a depth to her expression. “Then it’s time for you to get used to it.”

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with a tension you don’t know how to dissipate. Wanda reaches out again, this time holding your hand across the table, her fingers tracing soft circles on your skin.

“You know you can trust me, don’t you?” she asks, her voice almost a whisper.

You nod slowly, your eyes locked with hers.

“Then show me,” Wanda continues, her eyes darkening slightly. “Show me that you trust me, Dekta.”

Your heart races. You know what she is insinuating, you know what she is expecting. But taking the initiative seems as frightening as it is necessary.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your courage, and slowly lean over the table. Wanda’s gaze never wavers, encouraging you, pulling you closer.

And then, finally, your lips meet hers in a hesitant but emotion-filled kiss. Wanda responds immediately, but with delicate control, guiding you as if she knows exactly how to make you comfortable.

When you pull away, breathless, Wanda’s eyes shine with a mix of satisfaction and something more, something that makes your legs tremble.

“Such a brave little girl…” she whispers, her voice as sweet as it is possessive.

You exhale.

“I’m not a baby.” You say, forcing your pride.

Wanda clicks her tongue and murmurs something under her breath.

“Oh, yes… You’re a big girl, aren’t you?”

But what is this? You’re a girl! And a big one! Why is she talking to you like you’re some stupid child? And why is it sending waves of heat to your core?

Wanda forces you to look at her and meet her intense, wild—and cruel—eyes. You stay like this for a moment, until your body starts to tingle under the effect of her presence.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? You’re squirming all over…” she blows into your ear, making you let out a small moan. “Do you feel strange, my sweet?” you try to escape her, averting your gaze, but Wanda seems determined to see you embarrassed and small in front of her.

You nod your head, trying to stammer a response while being caught up in her.

“Uh, I know, dear. I know…” the older woman murmurs. “But I want you to use your big girl words and tell me where it feels strange.” her voice seems to grow, almost as if she’s holding back.

“I…” You rub your legs together, trying to alleviate the growing burn in your core.

“I know it's hard, isn't it, sweetheart?” You nod vehemently. She’s so close it’s making you lose your senses. “But you’re a smart girl, aren't you? I know you can. Use your words for me, come on, Y/n.”

Breathing deeply, trembling, looking at her, her lips so close to yours you could lean in and capture them. A trembling hand resting against your core.

“Here.”

“Ah, your tummy? Your tummy feels strange?” she places her hand over the spot and starts massaging it, making you automatically let out a moan at the feel of her warm palm.

So close to where you need it most, but so far…

“Eyes open for me, baby.” at the woman’s command, you realize you were so relaxed you had closed your eyes, and upon opening them, you see her most radiant smile.

“Good girl! There you are!” Wanda purrs, making your eyes roll back at the feel of her breath in your ear.

You smiled shyly, loving the taste of her words.

“Do you want anything else, dear?”

You shake your head, feeling your hair mess up with the movement.

“No? It doesn’t feel slimy anywhere else?” the wrinkle in her forehead showed she wasn’t happy.

Her hand, which previously held your cheek gently, now holds your chin, her fingers pinching your cheeks, making a painful pout. Not too harsh in itself, but firm enough to remind you who’s in charge.

"It's not polite for little girls to lie," her tone is severe in a way that makes you feel like you're being chastised.

You whimper at the thought that she might be mad at you.

"I'm sorry, Wanda..." your words come out a bit muffled by the way she’s pinching your cheeks.

Her expression softens and she lowers her face to the crook of your neck, hugging you against her as she places a kiss against your nape.

"I know, dear, it’s okay." she says, rubbing firm circles on your back. "Perhaps I should just check then, hmm?"

Your eyes widen in shock but she just smiles, seeming delighted, as if she didn’t just The smile that formed on Wanda's face was not the same as before. It was deeper, more laden, as if she had just claimed something she always knew was hers.

“I…”

"Big girls know where they feel everything. I thought you were a big girl, Y/n." she arches an eyebrow, provocative.

"I am!" You shout, frustrated.

"Then prove it." Her voice is dark and husky, making the pulse between your legs increase tenfold.

No one has ever touched you down there, thinking about it always made you so nervous. Wanda seems to know this—however, your inexperience seems to please the woman.

With trembling hands, you take her hand—perfectly manicured with red nails, dragging it down below the navel, resting it on top of your panties.

“Oh, sweetheart…” her voice comes out trembling. Wanda presses her fingers to you, making your hips jerk and a high-pitched and needy moan escape. “You’re so beautiful…” she murmurs as if it’s the simplest and most obvious thing in the world.

“It… hurts.” whining, you try to move your hips toward her again, offering yourself.

“Do you want Wanda to make it go away?” hearing the woman refer to herself in the third person is strange, you frown, but you nod. “Words.”

“Yes.”

The woman stops all of her stimuli suddenly, making you protest.

“Yes, what?” she prompts something you don’t understand, so she starts moving her hand up to your neck—squeezing, squeezing and squeezing.

“Yes, Wanda…?” the sentence comes out muffled with a hint of insecurity.

Wanda huffs, leaving you confused. What does she want?

She loosens her grip and backs away a bit.

“How about this?” her hands squeeze your hips and rub against the bottom of your stomach, as she makes you straddle her; pulling your body against hers in a way that creates exhilarating pressure on your pleasure point.

A dragging and needy moan escapes your throat.

"Oh, is that good?" Wanda laughs, as you nod weakly.

The dress you wear starts to bunch up around your waist. Wanda's gaze is lost, as if she’s thinking about many things at the same time.

"You’d look lovely in my clothes, kitten." she moans.

Wanda slides her fingers inside your pussy, not deep enough to break your hymen, but to explore.

“Are you getting close, dear?” without thinking, you nod.

She extends one hand to toy with your hard nipples.

"My beautiful girl..." she moans.

Wanda pulls you harder against her. Your sex is so wet, the lewd and sticky sound is audible, while she beams brightly at you.

"Do you hear that? Hear the mess you’re making on my hand?" She taunts, her fingers moving in slow circles, pushing you to the edge.

“I’m going to cum!” you whimper to her with glassy eyes.

“Are you going to make a huge mess on Mommy’s lap?” she was as desperate as you were—dark and wild eyes.

The woman grips your hips even tighter, pressing you against her even faster.

“It’s okay, little girl. I’m here for you!” exploding against her a few seconds later, you let out a loud, high-pitched, irregular cry of pleasure.

Babbling helplessly, fixing your eyes on the sea green of hers, you let her guide you.

“There she is! There’s my pretty girl…” she says, sniffing your skin.

You’ve never felt like this.

Not sure if it was the peak of edging, the constant arousal, or Wanda’s extremely sexy and dominant overall presence. But that orgasm was the most incredible thing you’ve ever experienced.

Wanda pulls you close to her, kissing the top of your head, soothing you, giving you all the time you need to return to yourself. Whispering quiet words of reassurance, and gently caressing your pussy, inducing your aftershock tremors post-orgasm.

“Thank you…”

She laughs softly, combing your hair back from your damp forehead with her fingers. She gives you a kiss, smiling as she sees you trying to caress her shakily.

You cuddle against Wanda, her scent enveloping you like a blanket that warms and calms. Her breathing is steady, a tranquil beat in contrast to the internal turmoil you feel. Your mind is a whirlwind, trying to process everything that happened, but your body seems to have other ideas, sinking deeper into that moment of comfort and surrender.

“Why…” you begin, your voice sounding fragile, hesitant. “Why do I feel like this around you?”

Wanda tilts her head, her green eyes glowing with something you can’t completely decipher. There’s a trace of tenderness, but also something deeper, something that seems almost possessive.

“Like what?” she asks softly, her fingers still stroking your hair.

“Relaxed…” you confess, swallowing hard as you try to find the right words. “As if… as if nothing else matters. As if I can just… let go of everything.”

She smiles, a small smile but full of meaning. “Because you trust me,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And because I make you feel safe, don’t I, my sweet little girl?”

You blush, her words hitting something deep inside you. It’s true. There’s something about Wanda — the way she looks at you, touches you, guides you — that makes all your barriers fall, as if you can finally be yourself without fear of judgment or rejection. But that leaves you vulnerable, and that vulnerability scares you as much as it comforts you.

“It’s… strange,” you admit, lowering your gaze. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“There’s nothing strange about it,” Wanda responds, her voice firm but gentle. “You’ve never had someone take care of you like this before, have you?”

You shake your head slowly, feeling tears threatening to form. She’s right. All your life, you’ve built walls around yourself, keeping others at a distance, believing that independence was your only option. But with Wanda, those walls no longer seem necessary.

She leans in and kisses your forehead, a gesture so gentle it makes your heart ache. “You don’t need to worry, darling. I’ll take care of you. Always.”

Her words resonate within you, like a promise that seems impossible to break. You look at her, your eyes meeting, and for the first time you feel like you can truly believe it.

“Come on,” Wanda says after a moment, stroking your cheek. “I made a strawberry pie, and I want you to try it while it’s still fresh.”

She helps you up, guiding you to the kitchen as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And somehow, in her presence, everything really does feel easier, lighter. As though, for the first time, you’re not alone in the world.

Wanda is seated across from you, with a generous slice of strawberry pie balanced on a pristine plate. Her eyes sparkle with joy, and you notice a mischievous smile forming on her lips.

“Now, open up, little girl,” she says, holding a spoonful of the pie right in front of you.

You blink, blushing immediately. “I can feed myself, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Wanda replies, her voice sweet but with a clear tone of amusement. “But where’s the fun in that? Come on, don’t be shy.”

You hesitate, feeling the blush rise even more in your cheeks. But before you can protest again, Wanda tilts the spoon towards your mouth. “Be a good girl,” she murmurs, her eyes playing with an unmistakable gleam.

Sighing, you give in and open your mouth, allowing her to place the spoon inside. The sweetness of the pie explodes on your tongue, and you can’t help but let out a small moan of approval.

“See? I knew you would like it,” Wanda says with a broad smile, but soon the smile turns into a genuine, warm laugh that reverberates through the kitchen.

Hearing that laugh made your heart tighten. It was contagious, and you ended up smiling as well, even as you tried to wipe the corner of your mouth with your hand.

“Okay, your turn,” you said, grabbing her spoon, but before you could reach her, Wanda gently held your wrist.

“Oh, no, dear,” she said, leaning forward. “I said I’m feeding you today. Relax and let me take care of that.”

She dipped the spoon back into the pie and, before you could protest again, was already offering you another spoonful. You shook your head in an exasperated gesture, but obeyed, feeling ridiculously embarrassed and, at the same time, warmed inside.

“I look like a child,” you muttered after swallowing.

“A lovely, sweet, and stubborn child,” Wanda teased, laughing again. “And it pleases me much more than it should. Now, open up again.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed along with her, the tension that always seemed to hover between you momentarily forgotten. For a moment, it was like the world was simple, made only of laughter, strawberry pie, and the strange feeling of being exactly where you should be.

The kitchen was full of relaxed laughter as you and Wanda shared the dessert. The strawberry pie was delicious, but the real sweetness was in the interaction between you two. Wanda, always with that air of control and fun, kept feeding you, insisting on larger spoonfuls despite your protests.

“I swear I’m full!” you said, gently pushing her hand away while laughing. “If I eat more, I will explode like a balloon!”

“Explode? Nonsense,” Wanda replied with a mischievous smile. “You still have space. I’ve barely started.”

“You are impossible,” you muttered, still laughing as you tried to dodge another spoonful. “And if I really explode? Then it will be your fault.”

“If that happens, I will clean up the mess,” Wanda replied casually, but the predatory look suggested something more.

You laughed again, but then Wanda straightened up, looking at the empty plate. She seemed to change her tone suddenly, adopting a more serious air. “Okay, enough pie. Time for you to drink a glass of water and maybe rest some more.

"I want to watch a movie now." You request, with puppy dog eyes. “Not now, dear. Maybe if you behave until evening, I’ll let you choose.” Wanda smiled, getting up, placing the dishes in the sink.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the authoritative tone. “Oh, no, mommy, please!” you said playfully, making a face and stretching your arms dramatically.

The air in the kitchen changed. The earlier lightness was replaced by something denser. Wanda’s eyes darkened, the smile disappearing as she tilted her head slightly as if studying you.

“Say it again,” she demanded, her voice low and laden.

The blush rose instantly on your face. “I was just joking, Wanda,” you began, but the intensity of her gaze made your voice falter.

“Say. It. Again.” She repeated, moving slightly closer, the tone firm but not aggressive. It was a command, not a request.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. There was something in her eyes, a mix of authority and desire that made you dizzy. With a mixture of shyness and hesitation, you murmured: “Mommy…”

The smile that formed on Wanda's face was not the same as before. It was deeper, more laden, as if she had just claimed something she always knew was hers.

"Good girl," she said softly, leaning in to caress your cheek. "Come. Let's pick your movie now." She takes your hands, pulling you both onto the couch—making your eyes shine as you realize the power of that single little word.

During the chosen movie—Disney's Tangled—Wanda's mind began to work. Hearing you say "Mommy," the woman felt something she hadn't expected: a wave of warmth, a sense of completeness that seemed to touch every part of her being. It was as if a piece of the puzzle she didn't even know was missing had perfectly fallen into place. For a brief moment, she paused, as if time had frozen, absorbing the moment with an intensity that nearly took her breath away.

The word echoed in her mind on a loop, like a melody composed exclusively for her. It wasn't just the sound, but what lay behind it: the surrender, the trust, the recognition. A mix of possessiveness and tenderness flooded her. It was more than desire, more than control—it was something primal, a protective instinct that made her chest swell with pride and satisfaction.

Her fingers stroked your cheek almost reverently, while her eyes burned with intensity. "My little girl," she thought, a smile appearing on her lips as she realized the impact she had on you. There was something deliciously addictive about the way you submitted, even without fully understanding just how much you did.

Wanda had always been in control, always the one leading others, but this was different. With you, there was a perfect balance between the dominance she cherished and the sweetness she secretly craved. And now, hearing you call her that... Well, that was the cherry on top.

The sight of you curled up against her, like a baby seeking maternal warmth, drove her wild. It made her want more and more of you. Seeing you so unaware of her thoughts—your gentle eyes focused on the screen, captivated by the animation's events, so sweet. You resembled a little lamb—so soft and affectionate—that in two days is taking its graceful leaps; in two weeks is playing 'follow the leader.' Your frailty was part of your charm. A lamb is pure innocence, so innocent that people want to possess it or even devour it. People like Wanda...

She inhaled the scent of your hair deeply, feeling the strength of her emotions, while a certainty formed in her mind. You were not just someone under her control—you were hers, and she would do whatever it took to ensure that never changed.

~*~

Be a good girl, Y/n... Wanda's watching

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @beggingonmykneesforher @rosekjsses @trindad2k @indentity0018 @3liyuh @trying-to-do-good @reginassecretlover

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part two

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)

WC: 12K

A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.

Series Masterlist

Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.

That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.

Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.

He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.

It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.

"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.

"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.

"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.

"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.

"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.

"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.

"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.

"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.

"Go brush your teeth," he said.

"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."

She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.

"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.

"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."

Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.

"Christ," he muttered.

"What's the big deal?"

Joel sat up and opened his eyes.

"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.

"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.

"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."

"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.

Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.

"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"

Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.

"I know that look," he said, still grinning.

"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."

"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.

"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.

"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.

"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."

"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.

You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.

Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place

You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.

Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.

With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.

You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.

"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.

"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.

"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.

"What?" you asked loudly.

"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?

"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.

"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.

"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.

"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.

"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.

"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"

"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.

"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.

"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.

"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.

"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.

"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.

"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.

"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.

"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.

"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"

"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.

"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.

Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.

Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?

You grinned as you typed out a response.

You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)

Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.

You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off

You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.

Joel Miller: What are you doing later?

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.

You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...

Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.

You: oh? lol

Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.

You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.

You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?

Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.

"Hi," you said breathlessly.

"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.

"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.

You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.

"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.

"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.

He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.

Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.

"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."

"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.

"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.

He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.

"Everythin' okay?"

You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.

"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"

He smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.

"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.

He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.

"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.

You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.

"You're not embarrassed?"

"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."

You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.

"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."

You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.

"What's the story with the nickname?"

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.

"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.

"Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.

"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.

"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.

"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."

"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.

"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"

"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.

"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."

Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.

"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.

"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.

"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"

"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."

"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.

He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.

"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.

"Brighten my day," he clarified.

You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.

"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"

You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.

"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.

"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.

"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.

"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.

"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.

"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.

"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."

His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."

He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.

"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.

"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.

"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.

"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.

As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.

"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.

"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.

He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.

"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.

"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.

"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."

That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.

"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."

Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.

"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."

Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.

"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."

"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.

"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.

"No, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.

He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.

"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."

Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.

"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."

You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.

"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."

He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.

"Joel-"

"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."

"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.

He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."

"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.

"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.

He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.

Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.

"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.

Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.

He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.

He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.

You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.

"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.

"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.

"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."

He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.

You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.

He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.

He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.

You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.

He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.

"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"

"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.

"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.

"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.

"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."

"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.

"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"

You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.

"Sarah, this is-"

"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.

She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.

"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.

"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.

"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.

You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.

"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.

"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."

You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.

"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.

"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.

"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."

"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"

"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"

"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.

"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."

"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.

"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.

"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."

You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.

"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."

Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.

"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.

"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."

You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.

"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.

"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.

Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.

"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.

"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.

"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.

Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.

When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.

Fuck, this was going to be so hard.

"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.

"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.

"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"

Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.

"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.

"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.

"Then what's the problem?"

Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.

"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.

"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.

"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."

"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.

If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.

Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.

"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"

Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.

"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.

You: good morning :)

Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.

You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing

Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?

You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.

You: I was thinking about you...

Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?

You: VERY ;)

His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.

Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?

You smirked and bit down on your lip.

You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now

"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.

Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?

The answer came back almost immediately.

You: nothing

He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.

Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.

You: i'm sorry ;)

You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?

Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.

Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?

He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.

Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.

He sent his second text right as your reply came through.

You: I would love to!

He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.

Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.

Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.

"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.

"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.

"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.

"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.

"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.

Sydney: OMG!!!!!!

You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.

"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.

"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."

"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.

"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"

"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"

"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."

"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"

"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.

"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"

You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.

"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.

"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.

"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.

"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.

Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.

"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.

He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.

"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.

"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."

He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.

"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.

Fuck the camera, let them see.

You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.

"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.

He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.

On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.

As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?

Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.

"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.

You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.

Love? Oh, no.

"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"

"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.

"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."

"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.

"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.

"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"

"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."

You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.

When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.

Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.

The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.

The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.

When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.

He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.

"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.

"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."

"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.

"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.

"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."

"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"

"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.

"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.

"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.

"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.

"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."

"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."

"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"

"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.

"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.

After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.

He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.

He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.

He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.

Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.

"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.

"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.

"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Oh.

"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.

You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.

At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.

Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.

"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.

"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.

"What d'you want, then?"

You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.

"I want you."

His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.

You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.

You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.

"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.

He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?

"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.

"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.

"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.

"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.

You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.

Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.

"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.

You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.

"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"

"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."

His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.

"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."

He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.

You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.

He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.

He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.

He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.

He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.

"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.

"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.

He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.

Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.

"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.

"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.

You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.

You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.

He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.

"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."

You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.

"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.

"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.

You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.

He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.

"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.

"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.

"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.

"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.

He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @wonyoungismind @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin - lmk if i missed anyone, if your name is crossed out it means it won't let me tag you

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌

a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.

in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.

You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.

He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?

You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.

Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.

You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.

Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.

You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.

“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”

Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.

You considered.

“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.

You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.

“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.

You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.

You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.

You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.

This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”

The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.

“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”

There was your proof.

The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.

You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.

“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.

“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.

A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.

“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”

This incensed you.

“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”

He spun around, frowning.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”

“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.

“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”

“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”

You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.

“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”

“What would he like with them?” He asked.

“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.

“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.

That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.

“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”

You swallowed thickly.

Here goes.  

“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”

The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.

“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”

You sighed.

“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”

His face turned plum-red with horror.

“She was… stealing?”

In a way, yes.

“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.

“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”

You cut him off.

“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."

"Anything." He pleaded.

"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.

A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.

“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you.”

He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.

Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.

“Get what you needed, ma’am?”

“I certainly did.”

The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.

They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.

You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.

But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.

You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.

Innocence. If only.

You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.

In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.

It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.

It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.

✩✩✩✩

As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.

For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.

You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.

The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.

Click. Click. Click.

You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.

Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.

This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

This was the moment of truth.

“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”

“Not who you were expecting?”

“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”

“Think I’ll pass.”

He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.

There it is.

There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.

“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.

“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.

“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”

You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.

“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”

“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.

“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.

“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”

“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.

“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”

You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.

“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.

He laughed, low, more like a scoff.

“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”

“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.

“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”

Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”

“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.

“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”

You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.

“I didn’t think you-”

“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”

You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.

“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”

Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.

“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.

“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”

Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”

He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.

“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.

“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”

Shit.

A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.

He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.

“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”

If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.

“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.

“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”

“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”

“You think I’d care?”

“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”

“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.

“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”

“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.

“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.

He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

Cocky bastard.

Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.

“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.

Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

“Gladly.”

You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.

“Like what you see, Snow?”

He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.

It made you feel powerful.

You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.

“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”

You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.

“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.

“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”

You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.

You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.

“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.

“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”

You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.

“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.

When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.

“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”

You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.

You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.

When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.

“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”

He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.

He’s allowing this.

The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.

Who’s on top now?

This was getting to your head.

“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.

“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.

“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.

As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.

“Which one was your favorite?”

You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.

You shook your head.

“Don’t.”

He smirked.

“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”

He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.

“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”

You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.

“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.

“Cocky much?”

He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.

“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”

Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.

“Beg me.” He ordered.

“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.

“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”

It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.

“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”

The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.

“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”

And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.

"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."

His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.

You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?

When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.

“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”

But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.

“No.”

He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.

“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”

You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.

“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”

You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.

“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.

“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”

“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.

“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.

“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”

You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

Checkmate.

a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88 (more tags in the comments!)

[wildestdreamsblog]

Might as well be drunk in love: 2 of 2 (sneakpeak)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This is only a sneakpeak of day 2. I'm not yet done writing the second chapter but I feel bad bcos of how long it's taking me...so here it is! Sneakpeak of day 1. Also, the entire chapter will be posted here when I'm done and satisfied with it :> Enjoy po

Part 1, Full day 1

“No one told me that we have an adorable new housemate.”

The six sleepy men sitting around the dining table looked up as soon as Park Jimin walked entered the room, in his arms was a fluffy cat that was actively hissing at him. He cooed down at it, softly stroking the thick fur with his hand that was now sporting claw marks.

“We’re already so close!” he announced with softness in his voice despite the repetitive kicks brought by the furry creature in his arm.

“I don’t think you are liked very much…” Jungkook quietly commented, his doe eyes went even larger at the bleeding scratches on his skin. As if sensing an opportunity to escape, the cat suddenly wriggled free from Jimin's arms and darted across the room, landing squarely in Hoseok's lap.

“Hi, my son! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked affectionately, reaching down to stroke the cat's fur.

“Hyung has a secret son!” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung in a scandalous manner, clutching his nonexistent pearls. Taehyung, who looked like he lived and fought through three wars from his exhausted form and his sluggish movement only nodded at Jungkook.

“Whose cat is that? Is that yours, J-hope?” Jin asked, pointing at the cat with his mug. He didn’t know that they now had a furry housemate. Additionally, he didn’t know that he was a cat person.

Namjoon just smirked at his brothers, “That’s not his.”

“My God, I am so tired,” Jimin sat next to Taehyung, his muscles aching with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his whole weight on his friend, seeking some semblance of comfort in their shared weariness.

"Everything hurts," Taehyung moaned, mirroring Jimin's sentiment. He glanced over at Namjoon, pleading silently for a solution. "We need her. Hyung, please. Do something," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Jungkook finally put down his spoon with a loud thud, standing up to look at them one by one. “Okay, I cannot be the only one curious about whose cat that is!” he pointed at the cat who only meowed back at him before shifting his finger to his hyung who was silently eating with a smile on his face. “And you, why do you look so good this morning, hyung, while the four of us look like we are 3 hours away from passing away?” he asked Yoongi, his doe eyes demanding answers from the chaotic bunch that only turned more chaotic as the morning wore on.

Yoongi, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee, raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's question. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement. "Well, Kookie, some of us are just naturally blessed with good genes," he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Excuse me?! Are you saying that I am not blessed with good genes?! Me?! The world wide handsome?! Now, you’re just outright lying!”

“Hyuuuuung, do something! I think I’m dying!” Taehyung shouted amidst the noise.

“Stop screaming you’re scaring my son!” Hoseok shot back all while covering the cat’s little ears.

“Whose cat is that even?!” Jungkook asked again in disbelief, the vein in his throat protruding from annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh my God, Taehyung! I already did something, okay?!” Namjoon finally raised his voice for him to hear.

“Ahhhhhhh, my head hurts and she’s the only cure! I have to go to her!” Jimin whined sadly, attempting to leave his chair slowly.

“In that state?!” Jin shouted at Jimin and Taehyung, already feeling the stress causing havoc on his otherwise beautiful face.

But Taehyung and Jimin were already halfway out of their chair, clutching their heads dramatically. "I can't take this anymore! I need her!" he wailed, his eyes darting around the room with desperation only to find you by some miracle.

“Little one…” he called, his voice small as though he couldn’t believe that you were truly there. It was like their pain manifested you, and heavens, it was worth it. He’d willingly go through this pain if it meant seeing you and having you here where you belonged.

With them.

“Good morning, has anyone seen my cat?”

Your voice, despite it being low, was sufficient to stop the bickering among the CEOs. How they heard you amidst their own noise, you didn’t know. One thing was for certain, though. They were attuned to you like lovesick men did. Their eyes were on you with varying emotions. Jungkook was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung and Jimin, on the other hand, were relieved. Yoongi's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delight at the sight of you. Seokjin stared at you in disbelief, as if trying to comprehend how you managed to appear amidst the chaos. Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a sense of contentment and joy. The pair looked like they secured an extremely important deal and even won the lottery at the same day.

You didn’t see Taehyung moved but you certainly felt how his heavy body fell against yours. You certainly heard his sigh of relief even as he swayed on his feet.

And when you touched his hand to support him, that was when he fell.

[eroscomet]

Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours

Chapter three- Closer

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Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warning: Explicit, Warning 18+ content, swearing, fingering (Tara receiving), kissing.

Word Count: 2.3k+

A/N: Hey, lovelies, needed to update this real bad. BEAR WITH ME YALL, this is my first like smut that I have basically officially put out there. I hope you guys enjoy it and honestly, I was very nervous to post this update but I have left you guys starved of this story for too long. Making this chapter was a rollercoaster of emotions for me, I did not know that writing smut could be so bashful or even sheepish, but it really was. Good news as well, Make it Right will have an update soon! Very nervous to put this chapter out there but it was going to happen sooner or later. By the way, for future reference, this will be a g!p reader. Just letting you guys know that. Thank you so much for all the support and this one's for you guys!

Proof read.

Minors DNI

╰┈➤ Series Masterlist

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Your head felt like it had been reeling since the moment that you and Tara were back in contact. You felt wrong for allowing her to get the better of you when she had been somewhat intoxicated. The guilt was practically eating at you because not only had you hooked up with her, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Throughout each of your classes, every time you tried to force yourself to focus on the teacher's words or even the work in front of you, all you could think about was that night.

Your mind was plagued by all that the shorter girl had become under your touch. It felt selfish to have done such a thing and still think of her this way afterwards. No matter how long you tried to shove every image of the girl that night, heat pooled in your lower stomach. It was undeniable. Yet, every time that you had been around the girl from then on, you felt the care for her far stronger than any lust. It was easy to create a fantasy of her but when it came down to it, face to face, all you could do was want to protect her and care for her any way that you could.

“You stare a lot.” Tara said with a hum, she hadn’t even been looking up. She was instead focused on the textbook in front of her, still she felt your eyes on her.

“Ah, sorry..” You replied bashfully as you let out a small breath. Part of you wondered if she had even remembered that night. Maybe she had been angry that when she woke up, you hadn’t been there.

The thing was that when you had woken up the next morning after that night, the more you stared at her peacefully sleeping face, the more guilty you felt for having let yourself lose control. You’d spent an hour that morning, wondering what you should do before having finally settled on leaving some water bottles on her nightstand as well as some pain-killers to take when she’d wake up to a headache she would be bound to have. You didn’t know whether she’d remember, so you left a simple note saying that you had taken care of her the previous night.

“I wasn’t saying that I was bothered by it,” Tara said as her eyes flicked up to where you were sitting in front of her.

“Oh..” Was all you could think to muster up in reply. Should you ask if she remembered? Should you wait until she brings it up? You didn’t want to be a dick and make her think that she was a simple hookup and that was all.

An awkward silence fell upon the both of you as the two of you continued to study. That was until the silence was broken by Tara.

“So…” She began as she scribbled some notes into her notebook, her eyes pried away from yours at all cost, “Do you remember-”

“Yes.” You replied, not even knowing if she was asking what you were thinking she was asking. Her eyebrow had momentarily shot up at the quick reply.

“You didn’t even let me finish.” She said with a light laugh, “Unless, something’s on your mind?”

“Uh,” Your throat suddenly felt dry as you tried to think of the right words to use, “What happened a couple of nights ago..?”

“Hm.”

Her reply seemed too dry. Maybe she didn’t want to talk about it? Maybe she was in fact angry at you for having left?

“What?”

“I just..thought you didn’t remember, that’s all.”

“Of course, I do.” Your reply felt pathetic to your own ears. It left you feeling as if you were desperate. Despite your inner thoughts, a small smile played on her lips.

A silence fell upon the both of you before you had spoken up again, “I’m sorry for leaving that morning. I didn’t know if you’d want to.. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know if you’d want to remember what had happened.”

“I’ve always thought of you too sweet, that’s why I felt a bit suspicious of it.”

“I’m not the type to do that, I promise. I just thought it was more on your end… I was confused, you know? Confused if you think it's a one-time mistake.”

“Doesn’t have to be. I mean, I don’t think it was a mistake. I’m sort of…glad it was you.”

You felt your heart almost beat out of your chest at the revelation that you hadn’t thought about. It felt like what you had heard was a part of another restless dream where Tara felt the same way about you. For a moment, you were stuck in your thoughts as you contemplated whether or not this was a dream or a joke. That was until you felt your pencil being taken from your hand as you turned your head to look over at the girl, you were sure that now you had somehow died and been sent to heaven.

The look in her eyes, she was close enough for you to count every freckle that adorned her cheeks perfectly. The way her lips had slightly twitched as if she were about to speak but instead decided not to. The two of you spent a moment staring at each other, your face drawing impossibly closer to hers. The feeling of her breath mingling against your own, her eyes darted down at your lips allowed your mind to begin wandering places. Taking action to one of those many thoughts as you shut your eyes and leaned forward into a kiss.

After feeling Tara returning your kiss, you hummed into the kiss, leaning into the touch of her hand on your cheek. You felt weak, weaker than you ever had. It felt almost helpless the way that your mind couldn’t draw any other thought but the dark haired girl kissing you. Kissing you as if she wanted you just as badly as you wanted her. Your hands felt limp, futile to every attempt of moving them to not seem awkward. It felt as if Tara had been reading your mind because her hands had grabbed yours and guided them under her shirt.

“Wait-” You managed to mutter breathlessly as you pulled away from the kiss, “Are you sure about this?”

“Still as caring as ever. Gosh, yes, L/N, I’m sure.” Tara replied with a breathless laugh, slightly shaking her head. “Must you always be so good?”

A soft smile on your lips as you felt her own on yours once again before you could’ve replied to her words. You returned the now hungrier kiss.

“There’s nothing wrong with being good.” You had mumbled against her lips as you continued to kiss her.

She hadn’t replied this time, her hands simply guiding yours further up her shirt and to the curve of her clothed breast. Your fingers had toyed with the hem of her bra, a small whine came from her in response. Her hands moving away from yours and up your own shirt, feeling out the planes of your skin. Her fingers felt persistent, whereas your own took their time and were more gentle. Unaware of the girl’s growing impatience, your hand moved to the back of her bra, carefully unclasping it. 

It had now hung loosely to her skin under her shirt, you took this as your chance to gently allow your thumbs to focus on the buds of her nipples. Immediately receiving a reaction from the girl, a soft whimper against your lips that felt all too sweet. Your mind had temporarily fled to the thought that someone else had too been in this position. You felt your gut slightly twist before pushing away the thought and allowing yourself to at least enjoy this while you can. While she had graced you with the opportunity to do so.

Your nimble fingers were quick against her buds, her breathing becoming ragged. Her mouth felt hot and wet, a reflection of your own as the kiss came to an end. Her eyes were fluttered shut as she allowed soft sighs to escape her, enjoying your touch. You’d seen and felt her back arch slightly with twitches into your touch. Her own hands had paused under your shirt, seemingly had lost its focus and purpose she’d once had with the touch. Quickly, one of your hands had left from under her shirt, moving to your lips where your tongue darted out to wet them before returning it to her nipple.

Tara’s head slightly tipped back at the newfound sensation you’d given her, your other hand moving down her abdomen to the hem of her sweatpants. You knew better than to tease the girl but you couldn’t help yourself, your fingers gently pressing against her clit over the fabric. The soft gasp that left Tara’s lips and the expression on her face made you want to examine every expression and sound she’d offer you with every touch you gave her.

“Don’t tease. Please.” She had breathed out ever-so-softly. Who were you to go against what she wanted? You wanted nothing but to please the girl of your dreams.

You were quick as you had carelessly pushed aside her notebook and text book that was on her desk. Swiftly lifting the shorter girl onto the desk, she lifted her hips slightly, giving you access to pull her sweats down. Your eyes were trained on her as you disregarded her sweatpants onto her bed. One of your hands pushed apart her legs as the other pulled aside her panties, not caring to remove them. You could hear every sweet sigh and soft whimper that escaped her mouth at your every touch, and it drove you completely insane.

A finger swiped through her folds, feeling the wet mess that she had become. You felt a surge of pride and a want– no, a need to give Tara everything she wanted. You allowed two fingers to delve past her folds and into pussy, a soft groan leaving your own lips at the tightness. A guttural moan leaving her, you watched as her head tipped back against the wall. Your fingers were quick, pumping to her every moan and obvious need with the way her hips had begun to buck against your hand. Your thumb pressing circles into her clit as your fingers continue to pump, your other hand raising her shirt to focus on her breasts as well.

With another lick of your fingers, you toyed and played with the bud of her nipple. You wanted to give her all the pleasure you knew she was deserving of. Your lips finding hers as you pulled her into a kiss, muffling her kisses that she now let out into your mouth. With the quickened pace of your fingers from each hand, you took note that it was getting harder for the girl to keep up with the kiss. You pulled away and immediately began working on peppering kisses against her neck, trying and finding her sweet spot. Your teeth grazed her neck as your mouth began to suck on the sensitive part of her neck. 

You felt her back arching into you and her body buzzing and writhing with pleasure from your touch. Taking note of how Tara was getting closer by the way her moans and breath fell relentlessly from her lips.

“Close-” She managed to say, pairing with a broken moan which only pushed you to quicken your pace.

“Shit, shit, shit- I’m cumming!” Tara’s voice cried out as she shut her eyes tightly, her body uncontrollably shaking under your touch.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

 A few minutes later and the two of you were sitting together at her dining room table eating pizza which you had ordered Tara.

“A true gentlewoman.” She said with a hum before

taking a bite of her pizza.

“Aftercare is important.” You replied with a small shrug as you took a bite of your own pizza.

“So, you're saying that you’ll stay longer?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Is that even a question?”

“Maybe you're right. I'll stay then.”

After the two of you had finished eating, you made your way back over to her room. Now, your arms wrapped around the shorter girl who buried her face into your chest. All felt calm, a stark contrast of what had happened about an hour or two earlier. You felt yourself wanting to stay in this moment, in the safety of the bubble you two created in her room. Tara was slowly falling asleep, you took it upon yourself to further soothe the girl by rubbing her back gently and pressing gentle kisses to her forehead. 

“Thank you for this.” She mumbled softly against your chest, slightly muffled.

“You don’t have to thank me, Tar.”

“Tar. I always liked when you called me that.”

“I'll forever call you that if you want me to.”

“I’d like that.”

You itched to ask the girl what all of this meant. What your relationship was like now. Is it friends? More than that, friends with benefits? Maybe…it could be something more than that as well, lovers? You pushed down the thoughts and the itch to ask, wanting to not ruin this perfect bubble the two of you have created.

“Tell me something. Anything.” Tara murmured softly

“You're soft.” It was the first thing that came to mind and the first thing that fled your mouth. A small light laugh had escaped Tara’s lips.

“What’s funny?” You asked curiously.

“It’s just that… I'm not sure I've ever been called or described that way.”

“Glad to be the first, and it’s true.”

“You're sweet.” Her words made a soft smile creep onto your face.

“Look who’s talking.”

“Oh, you're just a flatterer.”

“Can we not flatter each other?”

“I suppose so.”

“Sleep, you're tired.” Your eyes scanned the girl’s face, she was obviously a bit drained. A hand came up to gently caress her face as the other one continued to rub her back. Which had lulled her further into a sleepy state, she only nodded at your words. For the entire time that you stayed at her apartment, you held her and whispered sweet nothings that you knew she couldn’t hear in her sleep, but whispered them anyway.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: I'M NERVOUS BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED. Again, thank you for all the support and also look around for Make it Right chapter three coming out as well. Bear with me and this, this is my first smut published. However, I had to get it out of the way for upcoming chapters. Thank you all so much for everything, bye lovelies!

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” (Ch. 1)

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Latina Reader

Blurb: You were once the best female pilot at Top Gun. That was until a mission ended very badly. Now, 3 years later, you're somewhat healed and dating a man who takes advantage of your trauma. Now, you work at Hard Deck, the closest you could allow yourself to Top Gun, when your old friends come back... including a new guy you don't know; and to say he's intrigued by you is an understatement. But when your boyfriend decides to lay hands on you in front of him and your friends, all hell breaks loose.

Contents: Domestic Abuse, Swearing, bar fight, some fluff(??)

Word count: 3,160

I hope you all enjoy! I'll try to update it as much as I can.

Chapter 1

You never thought you would step foot in Hard Deck after everything that happened two years ago, never mind work there. It was oddly comforting and your therapist said it could help with the trauma you endured. So when Penny gave you a job as a bartender and server, you jumped at the opportunity. 

Anything to be close to something you once loved.

You’re in the middle of cleaning out the dirty dishes bin when you hear the creaking of someone walking into the bar. 

“We’re closed,” you say. “Come back at 8.”

“Oh, I’m not here for a drink,” a man’s voice says. “I’m here to see Penny. Is she in?”

You turn toward the voice to see a man in a leather jacket with multiple patches usually worn by naval aviators. His dark hair is perfectly styled and when he takes off a pair of aviator glasses, he exposes his hazel eyes. 

“You must be Pete,” you said with a smile. “She told me you’d be coming around. She’s in the her office if you wanna go back there.”

He nods and makes his way toward the back of the bar. He stops at the entrance before turning to face you with a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re back, Y/L/N.”

Startled, you ask, “How do you know my name?”

“I work at Top Gun. I’ve heard stories and seen your pictures all over the place.” Pete smiles before turning serious and adding, “I really am glad you’re back. Admiral Simpson told me a lot of great things when he was your instructor.”

You take a deep but shaky breath before nodding, lips pulled tight before you say, “Thank you.”

You eye his jacket to see his rank and frown. “Captain?”

“Yeah, Captain.” Pete nods. When your brow lifts, he adds, “It’s a long story.”

“I’ll look forward to hearing it,” you smile. 

“I have a new class starting up today, maybe you’ll see some of my guys,” he says. “You may see some familiar faces.”

And with that, Pete walks into Penny’s office, leaving you reeling and wondering who you’ll see later.

*   *   *

Later that night, Hard Deck is packed with Naval Aviators and civilians. It’s loud, chaotic, and joyful for the most part. People are playing pool, throwing darts, and having a great time getting drunk.

It reminds you of the good old days, back when you weren’t traumatized and living with an abusive man.

You’ve just finished putting a couple of beers in front of a group of civilians when you hear someone call your name. 

“Y/N!” 

You turn just in time to see Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, smiling ear to ear with his signature mustache sitting on his top lip. 

“Rooster!” You exclaim. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Yeah, I’ve been assigned here for the next couple of months, some sort of mission. You know how that is,” he drawls, smiling to himself. He looks you up and down before saying, “You look good, y/n.”

You’re wearing a simple black, V-neck shirt with a pair of jeans and Converse. The compliment makes you smile and wave his comment off. “I’m sure you tell all the girls that.”

“Nope,” he smiles. “Just you.”

“So what’re you having, and how many?” you ask. 

“I’ll have seven of your lovely beers,” he chuckles. “You should come over to the pool tables, Phoenix would love to see you.”

“My girl is here?” You ask excitedly.

“Of course. I’ll send her over for the next round,” Rooster says, watching as you expertly open all six of the beers quickly. “What time are you off?”

You check your AppleWatch before saying, “In about two hours.”

“Come meet us over there when you’re off,” Rooster smiles, pointing at the pool table across the way. “And Y/N, I’m glad you’re back in some way. We’ve missed you.”

“Thanks, Roo. I guess I’ve missed you.”

You watch as he walks off, noting the people he approaches. Phoenix practically breaks her neck looking in your direction, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, and Bob smile and wave; and there’s another guy there you don’t recognize. He has sandy blonde hair, tanned skin, and an award-winning smile. From the bar, you can see his green eyes sliding over your body, checking you out. You cross your arms over your chest and cock a brow in question. When he waves at you with a cocky grin, you have to fight a smile from forming on your face.

It was cute but you’re taken. 

Unfortunately.

You’ve been dating Nick Abernathy for the past year or two and while it was very fun and loving in the beginning, now you can’t stand to look him in the eye. 

Not after what happened the last time you were at Top Gun. And especially not after how he reacted and treated you everyday after.

Speaking of the devil, you hear your boyfriend, call out your name to the left. “Y/N!”

You turn to see Nick, the man you once loved so much, smiling down at you. He’s all blonde hair and dark brown eyes, broad shouldered, and muscules; a naval pilot. 

Your type. Again, unfortunately.

“What’s my favortie lady doing looking at those aviators?” he asks. To the untrained ear, it sounds like he’s being playful. But you know the truth, and you know you’ll hear–and feel–it later.

“Just some old buddies of mine,” you tell him.

“Right,” he says, eyes narrowing. He moves a hand, reaching out to grip your wrist. “I’ll be waiting to take you home after your shift.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, smiling sweetly to hide the growing dread in your chest. 

“What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t drive my girlfriend home?” Nick seethes, looking beyond you. “Besides, I don’t like the way those aviators are looking at you.”

You turn your head toward where you know Rooster and the rest of the aviator group watch the interaction. Their faces are all hard, ready to defend at your ‘okay’. You send them a small wave and reassuring smile before turning back to Nick who is now practically red in anger.

“They’re just friends,” You tell him, fear begins to prickle all over your body. “I met them when I was at Top Gun.”

Before Nick can say anything, Penny comes into view, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, can you stay another couple of hours? Pete wants to take me out and I can’t close early tonight.”

Relief fills you immediately when you reply, “Yeah, I can stay until closing.”

“Good,” Penny smiles. Then, as if seeing Nick for the first time, says to him, “Don’t worry about picking her up. I saw her drive here.”

Nick’s jaw clentches before he smiles, drops your arm, and responds, “Oh, I must’ve gotten confused.”

He turns to you before saying, “I’ll see you at home.”

Penny stays by your side until Nick finally leaves before turning you to face her and saying, “Go clock out. I’ll take it from here.”

“I thought you were–”

“I told him that so he would leave you alone,” Penny states, rubbing your shoulder. “Go catch up with Rooster and the gang. Just stay until closing so I can follow you home.”

“Thanks, Penny.”

You turn to leave, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground, when you feel someone’s eyes on you again. You glance in the direction of where Rooster and the rest of them are to find the green-eyed aviator that was checking you out before, staring. 

Creep.

You clock out before grabbing a beer from Penny and making your way toward the group.

“Hey!” Phoenix exclaims at the sight of you walking closer. Then, pulling you into a bear hug, says, “Come here, Bullseye! I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Nat.” You smile, smoothing her hair when she pulls away.

“Bullseye?” the green-eyed aviator asks, Texan accent drawling and sending shivers down your spine. 

“You’re looking at the most badass female aviator I’ve ever met,” Phoenix tells him. “The best at shooting too.”

“Is that why your call-sign is Bullseye?” he asks you. 

You square your shoulders before smirking and replying, “Yes.”

“I’ll spoil it for you,” Rooster laughs. “She’s terrible at darts.”

“First of all, I was drunk!” you exclaim with a laugh. “I would’ve gotten that bullseye if you hadn’t bumped into me!”

“Mhmm, blame the alcohol,” Rooster teases. 

“So, Y/N, who was that guy you were talking to?” Coyote asks. 

“Yeah, didn’t look like a good conversation,” Bob adds. 

“Um, my boyfriend, Nick,” you respond, feeling Green Eyes stare at you. “Soon-to-be ex.”

“Why soon-to-be?” Fanbooy asks.

“Just,” you trail off. “We fell apart.”

“Didn’t look that way from our angle,” Green Eyes mutters. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, turning toward him. “Who are you?”

Green Eyes grins before outstretching a hand and saying, “Jake Seresin, Hangman. You can choose what you call me.”

“Hangman?” you ask, quirking a brow. “Like the game?”

“The one and only,” he responds coyly. 

“You’re looking at the only naval aviator with one confirmed air-to-air kill,” Phoenix tells you. “He’s also a dickhead.”

“Oh, stop. You’re being too sweet,” Hangman grins. He turns toward the bar and frowns. “Isn’t that your soon-to-be ex?”

Your spine stiffens. You don’t have to turn to know that Nick is standing at the bar, eyeing you from one of the barstools. Your eyes widen when you see him throw back a shot of what you know is whiskey. He turns aggressive when he drinks so this should be fun.

“You okay there, Y/L/N?” Phoenix asks.

“I have to go,” You say, starting to walk toward him. However, you feel a hand on your arm and turn to see Rooster looking down at you, concern written all over his face. 

“You’re not going over there alone,” he tells you. Turning to the group, he tells them, “We’re with her, I don’t like the way he grabbed her the last time he was in here.”

The group give affirming nods, all except Hangman. 

“I’ve got this,” you tell Rooster. “He’s harmless.”

You knew it was a lie as soon as it left your lips and so did Rooster. His dark brown eyes narrow on you before he takes a swig of his beer and says, “We’ll be close by.”

You curtly nod before cracking your neck and handing Phoenix your beer. So much for relaxing. 

You make the short walk to where Nick sits at the bar, feeling Penny’s eyes half on you and on another customer. Behind, you can feel the gaze of your friends as they watch you stand before Nick. 

“What’re you doing?” You ask. 

“I was about to ask the same thing,” he says. “See, I called the Hard Deck line and they told me you had clocked out. But I remember Penny telling me that you were staying until closing.”

“Nick–”

“Don’t,” he orders. “We’re going home. Now.”

“I don’t think so,” You boldly announce.

You’re just as surprised as Nick by the looks of it, so when he aggressively grabs your jaw and brings you close, you lock up completely. 

“That wasn’t a request, Y/N,” Nick tells you darkly. His face is hard, you glance down at his hand by his hips and see that it’s clenched tightly. 

“Nick,” You start. “Let’s just go. Let’s not do this here.”

“Why not? You don't want your buddies to see how much of a cunt you are?” he spits. “Let them see what happens when you try to act like you’re single.” 

“You’re hurting me,” You softly say. Nick scoffs before frowning at something behind you. 

Not something, but a couple of somethings. 

“Let her go,” you hear Hangman say. His Texan charm all the way off and threatening.

“This has nothing of concern to you,” Nick spits.

“How about you let her go, and we won’t beat the shit out of you,” Phoenix says, her hand on your lower back in comfort.

Nick obeys, pushing you to the left and into the bar top harshly before taking a few steps toward Phoenix. You turn, watching as Phoenix stands her ground, not flinching when Nick tries too scare her by flinching forward. Rooster comes between the two of them, almost touching Nick’s nose with his own. The bar falls silent, all eyes on the interaction. 

“Roos,” You start. “It’s fine. I’ll go home with him.”

“No,” Rooster says to you, eyes glued on Nick. “You’re staying with Phoenix until he leaves your apartment.”

“Rooster, I can–”

“That wasn’t a request, Y/n,” he booms. To Nick, he says, “Here’s whats gonna happen. You’re gonna leave and start packing your shit. When she comes home tomorrow, and we’ll be there to confirm, you’ll be out of there and her life for god. Got it?”

Nick smiles before tapping Rooster’s chest, hard. “So you were the one she used to fuck when she was an aviator. Tell me, Rooster, do you think she’ll open her pretty legs for you again?”

Rooster only smiles back before turning to his left where Fanboy and Coyote stand near you. “Get Y/N to the pool tables.”

Before they can grab you, Nick reaches out and squeezes your wrist tight before pulling you close to him. “You’ll have to peel her off me.”

“Let her go, I’ve called the police to remove you,” Penny says from behind the bar. “Your Captain won’t be happy to receive a call from jail.”

Nick clenches his jaw before slowly letting your wrist go and pushing you an arms length away. Before you have time to run into Coyote’s arms, Nick’s fist is flying toward your face in slow motion. When it finally makes contact with your cheek, you stumble, falling into someone’s arms and being dragged back before all hell breaks loose. 

The bar is filled with shouting and the sound of glass shattering. And yet, all you can focus on is the way Rooster, Coyote, and Payback block Nick from rushing toward you. You’re so engrained on the commotion before you, you don’t hear when Hangman calls out your name.

Jake was a lot of things, but a hero was not on his roster. As soon as he saw Nick hit you, he went into full-on hero mode, pulling you into him and rushing you both to the pool tables. The look of shock paints your face as he watches you stare at the commotion before you. 

I’m in deep shit if she wants to go over there because I’m not letting her out of my arms.

“Hey,” Hangman soothes. “Y/N, was it?”

You snap your head toward him and he has to fight to keep from sucking in a breath. Up close, you were gorgeous, even with that shiner growing on your left eye. 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” You say, realizing who you’re sitting on and then standing from his lap. “I have to get over there.”

Hangman knew you’d say that so he stands with you, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t think Rooster would like that very much.”

“Well, it’s a good thing Rooster isn’t here,” You tease before breaking for a sprint. Only, you don’t go far because Hangman has his arms around your waist in seconds. 

“You’re a slippery one aren’t you?” 

“I just want to get Nick out of here,” You whisper. 

Hangman searches your eyes, sensing every ounce of truth radiating from them. Matching you, he whispers, “Rooster’s got it handled.”

“Are you okay, Y/N?” You both hear Rooster say it but you don’t dare turn your heads toward him. Hangman’s eyes search yours again, wanting you to say something.

“I can take you to my apartment if you’d like,” Phoenix says to you. 

You finally turn away from Hangman’s intense gaze and push away lightly. “Yeah, I think that would be best.”

“Penny said to leave your car here by the way,” Bob says, looking between you and Hangman. 

“Sounds good,” you respond, turning to walk away with Natasha, arms linked. Before you both completely walk out of Hard Deck, you turn around to see Jake already staring with longing eyes. 

Something about it makes you shiver and pull Nat closer.

*   *   *

Jake watches as you turn back around and smile at something Phoenix said, wondering what it was that made you smile. He turns to Rooster, who’s givinghim the most sly grin he’d ever seen.

“You like, Y/N,” Rooster states. 

“You’re not wrong,” he admits. “She seems so familiar. Have I met her before this?”

“You’ve probably seen her picture all over Top Gun,” Coyote tells him. 

“Wait where?”

“Oh, you know, the main entrance,” Bob says. “Literally in the classrooms… do you not pay attention to the walls?”

“She’s been through a lot,” Fanboy mutters before taking a sip of his beer. 

“What do you mean by that?” Hangman asks. When he sees the others give warning looks, he adds, “What happened?”

Rooster sighs before taking a swig of his beer. “You remember that aviator that went missing a few years back?”

“The one they found half dead?” Jake asks. “Yeah?”

“That was Bullseye,” Bob quietly tells him. 

“She was–” Jake had to stop himself from speaking. Anger and sadness filled is chest at the thought of what may or may not have happened to you. 

“Yeah man,” Payback says, clapping Jake’s shoulder. “That anger you feel right now? That was us when we found out it was her.”

“She’s never told us what happened, not even Nat.” Rooster tells them. “It’s like she just shut that out. What we do know is that she never stepped foot on a tarmac ever again.”

“She couldn’t bear to sit in the box again either,” Coyote adds. “She had a full panic attack as soon as the glass went down. Rooster here had to carry her out.”

Rooster nods. “So whatever you’re thinking of doing with her, don’t.”

At that, Jake recoiled and frowned. “What makes you think I wanted to–”

“C’mon, Jake. I saw the way you look at her when she and Phoenix walked out,” Rooster drawls. “Y/N is the closest thing I have to a sister, so just please. If you do try to get with her, don’t. And if you manage to actually succeed, don’t push her. She’s strong but she can only take so much.”

Jake only nods. 

His mind is swirling with questions he’s too afraid to ask.

What happened to you that made you so terrified to be in the box? Why were you with that asshole if you had so much trauma? Was Nick just a coping mechanism of sorts? 

When was he going to see you again? And why does the though of seeing you again make his heart warm?

Hangman didn't know the answers, but he damn sure wanted to find out.

Next part

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 1

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader and slightly ooc! (?) gojo (ig; i feel like i didn't write him as in character as i wanted), cursing, allusions to and anxiety about marriage consummation, themes of traumatized and anxiety-ridden reader, themes of forced/arranged marriage

Author's Note: Fuck me in the ass, it took me wayyy too long to get this out to y'all I'M SOOOO SORRY GUYS I DIED AND NOW I AM REBORN BACK AND SEXIER THAN EVER! Anyway, I'm at least happy to finally get this out for you guys because you guys gave me so much love for the prologue (mwah mwah). If you have yet to read the prologue, pleaseee do so! Provides some good context to the premise of the story. I'm going to flag once more that there will be themes of nsfw and physical/mental abuse down the line!

Word Count: ~7.3k

___________________________________________________________

"Are you afraid of me?"

He spoke. You masked your surprise easily. Did you look afraid? What made him suspect that? How do you answer?

Respond clearly. "No, Gojo-sama. Apologies if I seem at all startled in any way. I am taking in my new surroundings," you replied with a slight incline of your head towards him.

Satoru's eyebrows raised a little. It was the first time he had ever heard your voice. As he suspected, it was graceful and beautiful, but still so sad. And what was with the honorifics? He waited a second for you to say something else, but nothing came. "Do you like it? The house that is." Satoru figured the only way to get anything out of you was to ask himself.

He asked you a question. Respond clearly. Tell him what he wishes."Yes, your home is beautiful Gojo-sama. I'm very fortunate to be living here as your wife." Your words sounded exactly the same, clipped and poised to perfection like the small smile you had on your face. Your skin was cold despite the amount of fabric that covered it, but you refused to shiver. You refused to tremble despite the fear you were feeling. Yes, you had trained and prepared yourself for this. You would be fine.

Satoru only cocked his head and crossed his legs, observing you like a painting from where he sat on the couch. "Thank you." His voice conveyed his usual charisma, but the look he was giving you did not. He sighed as you only bowed your head again and said nothing. He could tell you were afraid, you just didn't wish to admit it. Was it stubbornness or nervousness that had you standing like that before him, looking both strong and weak at the same time?

After a few moments, he spoke again, this time with a little more calmness and reassurance. "I don't bite, y'know." Not a word left your lips at that. You didn't even move. It was like he had a statue standing in a wedding dress in the middle of his foyer. Not a statue, a corpse, with unfeeling, empty eyes. Maybe you weren't happy with the current situation. "Did you like the reception? I'm sure you had input in the planning."

Take this chance to show your worth. "I planned the entire reception, Gojo-sama. I hope it was to your liking." You clasped your hands even tighter as you waited for his reaction.

Satoru raised his eyebrows. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry then, I'm sure you liked it because you put it all together. Well, uh, I definitely enjoyed it, and I'm sure everyone else did too. You did a great job. Uh, thank you," Satoru chuckled. He meant every word. Planning an event of that nature must have been a daunting task and you had done it all on your own. You must be pretty independent.

"Of course, Gojo-sama. It was my duty," you replied with another bow. The fear in your gut subsided at his words. It seemed he could be won over by acts of service.

Duty. That's when it clicked in Satoru's head. You saw this as 100% a duty. Well, it wasn't like he didn't see this arrangement as a duty too, but it had always been more than that to him. It was both a duty and an enjoyment. At least, that's what he hoped it would be for the both of you.

He said nothing for a few moments. You didn't move. He could tell by the uncomfortable silence that the household staff was probably listening from somewhere nearby. Perhaps that also made you uneasy. "Let's head somewhere more private," Satoru murmured, and stood from the couch.

Private? A chill ran down your spine that worsened when he made his way over to you. Were you both going to-

You remained silent as he took your arm gently and led you up the steps of the grand staircase. He moved slowly, watching and searching you for any indication of emotion or feeling, but you gave him none. He cleared his throat before speaking once more. "That outfit seems uncomfortable. I'm surprised you've been able to wear it all day."

Your mind was running circles around his words, but you didn't show it. Is he going to offer to take it off me? Why is he being so gentle with me? Where is he leading me? A bridal chamber? A bedroom? "It is not uncomfortable, just a little heavy," you responded, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. "The tailors did a fabulous job with it."

Satoru hummed and muttered his agreement. He would take this as slow as possible. He knew that the first thing he would have to do was make you comfortable. "I see. If you would like, you may change out of it, and I can take you on a tour of the rest of the estate. Or, you can sleep if you're tired."

This seems like a test, you thought. Which option would he prefer? "I can change and join you on a tour of the home," you responded. "If that is what you wish of me."

Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but an answer nonetheless. "Alright. I'll show you your bedroom. It's apart of my rooms of the estate. I hope that's alright," he said as he guided you towards a set of double doors down the hall.

Satoru stepped before you to open the doors himself, a few staff members walking out past. You assumed that they were finishing their cleaning for the night. You could tell a few of them looked at you as they passed, though you never looked up to meet their gaze.

You could tell these were Gojo's chambers, as they were decorated somewhat differently from the rest of the house. While the entire house had a more contemporary feel to it, his part of the estate added western styles to it: gray and white furnishing, an upstairs that led to an open second floor balcony overlooking the first floor living room space, comfortable carpeting, and a woodsy, homey scent. There was a dining area and billiards further to the right to entertain guests. Truly a home within a home.

Satoru led you up the stairs, watching as you looked over the second floor railing into the living room. When you reached the top, he gestured to the first door on the left. "This is my bedroom here, in case you ever need to find me," he said as he moved you two forward. "And this one is yours." He opened the next door over.

Satoru let you step into the room first. "I wasn't sure what you would prefer in terms of the color of the room and everything, so I had a few of my staff design it for me. Do you like it?" he asked, a slight guilt to his tone. He felt bad that he knew almost nothing about you. He didn't even know where to start when he began planning to incorporate you into his home, but he figured an inviting bedroom would be a start.

"Yes, very much so" you replied. The room was bigger than your one at the Kamo estate. The furniture was made of oak wood, with the room itself having accents in white and various shades of purple. The canopy bed was plush and had silk sheets. Most of your attention was drawn towards the bookshelf in one corner, which already had some of your books as well as many new ones. The closed curtains, which had little butterflies sown on them, had moonlight escaping into the room. The wall to the right had another door, which you assumed led to the bathroom and closet. "Thank you for arranging this for me, Gojo-sama."

You moved your gaze down as you turned to face him. "Of course," he chirped.

Silence once more.

He sighed audibly. "You're gonna hurt your neck if you keep looking down like that, pretty girl. Especially with that monstrosity on your head," he said softly as he approached you. You stilled, jumping a bit as Satoru reached his hands forward to grasp the top of the headpiece. "Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just taking it off for you," he murmured when he saw you tense up. He removed the headpiece gently, letting your hair fall. He resisted the urge to touch the soft locks upon seeing them unbound, and instead opted for setting the headpiece on a side table. "There. Feels a lot better, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Thank you, Gojo-sama." You still didn't look at him. After a pause you asked, "May I go change now?"

Why did you ask for permission? "Sure," he answered, a little confused as he watched you retreat into the bathroom. He stood awkwardly in the room as he heard you shuffle around behind the door. He sighed and leaned against the bed. What was it that had you so... uptight? Why wouldn't you relax?

Meanwhile, you made yourself busy undressing and slipping out of the heavy fabrics of your wedding garb in the bathroom, hanging up the piece and choosing a simple, flowing dress to change into. You looked into the mirror once more, and paused.

You had forgotten about the white lace lingerie your handmaidens had forced you into while dressing you this morning. A provoking technique, they had called it. It was beautiful, the entire ensemble having been comprised of silk and lace with little flowers adorning it, but you felt incredibly uncomfortable now that you saw yourself with it on. You felt more like a prized ham, wrapped up and ready to be eaten. And that is my responsibility tonight-

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of movement coming from the room. Right. He's still out there. You thought back to how he had taken off your headpiece. You couldn't help but be frightened for a moment, but then the way he removed it had been... gentle, as all his other actions toward you had been.

You were used to men like him: large, imposing sorcerers, with big egos and even bigger amounts of cursed energy. However, when any of those men came close to you, maybe even to just put a hand on your shoulder, their touch was also gentle, but not in the way Satoru was. They were gentle and domineering. Satoru had been both gentle and considerate.

But what he had called you...

It still felt like he was trying to get something out of you. And you didn't like it.

You slipped on the dress over the lingerie, letting the soft velvet material warm you as the skirt ended at your ankles. You had always liked this evening dress.

Satoru's head shot up when he heard the door click open. You stepped back into the room, ready to be led. Your apparel took him aback at first. He had expected you to choose something comfortable, a t-shirt and leggings at least, but you still came out dressed like you were going somewhere. You looked beautiful though, and he supposed it was nice to see you in something that wasn't clan-styled regalia (didn't matter that he was still wearing his outfit from today).

Satoru said nothing as you took his arm and let him lead you into the estate. Although he didn't look directly at you, he observed your movements. Beautifully robotic was the way he could best describe it. But why?

Then it dawned on him. The wedding had been ceremonial, so your actions there he could ignore, but everything after... it was like you were still in the ceremony, even in this moment. He saw it firsthand when you said your goodbyes to your family. You would be seeing them so much less now that you were married, yet neither of your parents nor siblings hugged you or expressed any emotion when sending you off.

Then finally with himself. You never looked at him. You complimented him at every opportunity. You asked for permission to go get dressed.

He could never get you to relax. To be comfortable. It was like you were being monitored by some invisible camera that he couldn't see and that you feared.

Duty. 100% a duty.

He looked down at you once more as you walked down the hallway, eyes trained ahead. Yes, those eyes had been his first sign, he realized. For what once held liveliness and curiosity in youth had been replaced with a senseless, dull husk of what he remembered.

Something had happened in those seven years since he last saw you. He felt sorry for you.

He felt sorry because he felt like this was somehow his fault.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to be the best he could to you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, Satoru had shown you about half of the estate, everything between recreational rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and his own personal office. Yet, as he talked, you seemed disinterested, elsewhere.

The both of you were on the first floor, walking down a hallway with floor to ceiling windows on the left wall.

"There's not much left to show you, or at least anything that's interesting anyway. If there's anywhere else you'd like to..." Satoru's voice trailed off when he looked at you again, staring out of the windows as you passed.

There. You looked out the windows toward the estate garden, your eyes wide, glittering, and curious. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You looked like a little girl staring at a new doll in a toy store. Finally, something that he could read from you that you refused to hide. Wonder and interest.

Satoru stopped walking when the two of you reached a set of glass doors that led outside. "Do you want to see the garden?" he asked, almost chuckling when you nodded eagerly. "Let's go then." He opened one of the doors to let you through, watching you with amusement. You still kept your face neutral, hands folded over your chest as you stepped out into the open air before walking, practically running, over to the vast flower beds and trees across the lawn.

He just stared as you bursted with this sudden childlike excitement. So you can be won over somehow. Satoru laughed under his breath, a small smirk on his face as he went to join you. You started by walking between bushes, running your hands along any part of the plants as you could. He never would have guessed that you were interested in plants, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. He could see you being the type of girl that's interested in feminine things. Things like dresses, books, and maybe even chocolate desserts. Things like flowers.

You were kneeling next to a bush of blue hydrangeas as he approached. He thought you looked perfect like this, the moonlight playing off of your hair, skin, and dress while you ran your fingers along petals. However, when you realized he was getting closer, you quickly got up and returned to how you were in the foyer: standing straight, hands clasped, and head bowed. It stopped Satoru in his tracks, but also made him understand a little more of how you worked.

You must see a husband, him, as an authority figure that you have to please. Satoru didn't know why. Maybe your family pushed you to be a good wife, but now you're just taking it too far. You must be able to relax when you're comfortable, or when you're alone. That had to be it. Right now, you seem to view this place as comforting, so he had to be the same.

And if he seemed to make you feel uncomfortable, he would leave you alone.

But first, he had to try to get through to you.

"Do you like gardens?" Satoru asked, even though the answer was really fucking obvious.

"Yes, Gojo-sama," you replied. "I like flowers and plants. They are a great enjoyment of mine. Your garden is the most magnificent I have ever seen."

It was the best Satoru had ever seen too, but at this point, he couldn't tell if you were lying to him just to make him happy. He took a step closer and huffed a little. "Y'know... you don't have to call me that. I mean, I'm your husband, not the emperor," he chuckled, though he was dead serious. Laughing through it was the only way to show that he wasn't mad at you. "Why do you like flowers? Or these ones in particular?" He gestured to the bush that you had been admiring.

If you were nervous or scared, you didn't show it. You seemed to be pondering for a moment as you looked at the bush. "I... don't know. Flowers have interested me since I was a child. I used to keep up a garden at home."

A garden that you'll never get to take care of again, he realized. "Well, if you want or... if you need something to do, I can have someone show you where we keep our gardening supplies. You can do as much or as little as you like of course."

Your eyes lit up at the request. "That would be lovely, Gojo-" He could tell you were about to add the "-sama" at the end, but stopped yourself. He still smiled at the way that you seemed to beam in the current setting.

"What other things do you like? Do you have any hobbies?" Satoru asked, watching as you continued to run your hands along the plant.

"I like music," you stated.

"Really? You play any instruments?" He proceeded to raise his eyebrows as you listed a slew of different types that you knew how to play, though you added that piano was your favorite. "What else?"

"I like... cooking, and cats, and," you settled one of the hydrangeas in your hand, "the color blue."

Satoru hummed in response. He felt like he was getting somewhere. "Really? Well in that case, I guess I should've had your room be that color."

"Purple is still just as nice," you replied with a small smile. It was brief, but he could tell it was genuine. It took his breath away. It was almost embarrassing, this effect you were having on him.

"Yeah, I guess." Satoru dared to move a step closer to you. He could see you tense, and decided this was as far as he would get. Maybe now was the time to get some answers out of you. He watched your hand continue to rub the petals. "How do you feel about... all of this. Really."

"Your garden is dazzling-"

"No, I mean our... situation. Be honest with me," he said gently, but the way he worded it almost made it sound like he was pleading with you.

You paused before answering. Your hand stopped moving. "This marriage is just as important to me as it is to my father and the Kamo name. I will do right by him to ensure that it succeeds. And not just for him, but for you as well." Your tone was light and sophisticated, your voice sweet as can be, but it still felt fabricated. Rehearsed. Satoru wasn't buying it.

After a few moments, he decided to try something a little bold. "Look. I'm not your father, okay? And this isn't the Kamo estate. You don't have to be so... restrictive around me. I know this is, like, your first time ever talking to me, but I'm not some authoritarian." He almost regretted the words when he saw your guilty face. "But of course, that also means I'm not going to control the way you act. You can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. It's all fine by me." Silence again. "(Y/N)?"

You seemed... confused. Satoru spoke again. "Are you feeling alright? All I'm saying is I want you to be comfortable here. If that means... not interacting with me as much, then I get that."

Still nothing.

Satoru sighed. Maybe he needed to take a different approach. Maybe he just needed to leave you alone for a while. "If there is... anything else you want to see, I can show you. Otherwise, I'm going to go to bed. You can stay out here as long as you want..." he said softly. He began to turn away from you, listening for your movements as he started to walk inside. You only walked from your spot and moved further into the garden.

The halls echoed with the sound of his footsteps. That went... much differently than expected.

He thought back to fantasies he used have of what this night would look like: learning more about you, showing you around the estate, laughing with you until both of your stomachs went numb.

Kissing you for the first time in that garden, and, if you wanted it, carrying you back to his room in seconds.

But as he thought more about it, Satoru realized just how unlikely those scenarios would have been, especially with the current situation. He speculated that your behavior was a combination of your familial expectations, anxiety, and the fact that you were meeting him for the first time. Not to mention, he knew he wasn't the most approachable-looking person in the world.

This was going to take some time. He would let you get used to the house first, get used to seeing him and the other staff around. Then eventually, you might begin to open up to him once you felt safe.

Or you might not talk to him at all.

Satoru really hoped it didn't come to that.

___________________________________________________________

Some time ended up being much longer than what Satoru thought you would need. It had been a week since you last spoke, and you made no effort to approach him.

He did get some semblance of a routine you kept. You were definitely a busy body, always up and ready with a full breakfast waiting for him on the dining room table before he was up (although, since he had the following two weeks after the wedding off, he was sleeping in later than normal). By the time he was finished eating and getting ready for his day, you had gone halfway through your daily routine, which included cleaning and managing the state of almost every room in the whole building. Once that was finished, you prepared lunch, taking your portion out to the garden to eat. The rest of the day you used for your own recreation, usually something along the lines of taking walks, reading, or taking care of different parts of the garden. Of course, you still had time set aside to make him dinner before you stayed in your room for the rest of the night.

Just noticing the things you do throughout the day was a source of admiration from him alone. Satoru knew that the kind of work he did would be considered maddening and dangerous, yet he accomplished everything with ease. He couldn't help but think of you in the same light. You completed the same tasks everyday without fail or signs of fatigue (gods know he could barely clean a fucking toilet without gagging). He noticed that the meals you cooked were not just chosen randomly, but instead were meant to be perfectly balanced in terms of nutrition while still complimenting every bite he took. In other words, fucking delicious. Satoru knew he wasn't a bad cook either, but you made five star meals like it was no one's business.

He would see you often around the house, your skirts or dresses flowing as you flitted about. He could tell you favored modest clothing, usually in either knee to floor-length dresses, or blouses with skirts of the same length. Your makeup was simple, your hair always done up and clean.

Whenever he was close enough to you or entered a room you were in, you always bowed politely and addressed him, never saying more than was needed, before returning to whatever it was you were working on. Satoru knew if he asked, you would sit down and have a conversation with him or eat with him, but he wasn't going to push it. He wanted to be sure it was something you were okay with.

Yet hours and days dragged with almost no change. What was meant to be your two week honeymoon break passed, and Satoru had to return to his missions. Somehow you had already known what time he gets up to eat, and, just like almost any other day, there was a breakfast waiting for him.

No sign of the person who cooked it, though.

Satoru decided he couldn't take this anymore, the awkwardness and silence. No, he was going to find you and asked if you wanted to eat this breakfast with him.

Luckily, he found you in the kitchen putting away dishes you had just finished washing. "Good morning, (Y/N)," he said, trying to sound as polite as he could without frightening you.

You must have been lost in thought, because you jumped when he said your name and turned towards him.

Head bowed. Eyes down. Hands folded.

He was tired of it.

"Good morning, Gojo," you replied. "I hope you had a restful evening last night."

"I did..." he said. "I was just... wondering if you wanted to eat that delicious-looking breakfast you made with me. You're allowed to say no, of course." He felt stupid having to add that last bit.

"Apologies, Gojo, but I already took my breakfast this morning, but I sincerely appreciate your offer." He felt his stomach drop inside him a little. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be home later tonight." He tried to keep his tone from sounding disappointed. He couldn't be mad at you for eating before he asked you. However, Satoru wanted to end the conversation positively, with something not so... stale. He turned to walk to the door, looking once more over his shoulder at where you still stood. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then opened it again. "You look gorgeous today, by the way."

That surprised you. Not the words necessarily, nor the fact that these weren't your best clothes, but the way he said it. Like he meant it. It stirred something in you. You decided to look up at him, but he was already gone.

A while later, Satoru was dressed and ready to go, his car parked just outside with the AC blasting. He walked down the grand staircase... with you waiting for him at the bottom.

You were waiting for him. He paused in front of you once he reached the bottom of the steps. You had assumed your usually stance, but... he could tell you wanted to say something.

"I... realized that I never asked what you would like me to make for dinner for when you return..." you said as if you were just realizing that you were standing here, and you needed to make up an excuse.

It tugged at his heartstrings a bit. You had never asked if he had a preference for dinner, so... this was you trying to approach him to start a conversation. "Well, whatever you want to make is fine. You're such an amazing cook. I would never not eat anything you make," Satoru exclaimed with a small smile before leaning in a bit as if telling you a secret. "But, if I must request something, I reallyyy like mochi desserts," he whispered before pulling away. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Your small smile and barely noticeable laugh made his heart explode. Pride swelled in his chest. So you have a sense of humor in some regard...

He smiled and walked past you to the door, walking through before-

"Gojo," you called from across the room. Satoru turned at the sound of you calling his name.

"Have... have a nice day today..." you said, giving him a small bow.

His eyes widened in surprise before he flashed you a grin. "You too, pretty girl." And just like that, he left, the door shutting behind him.

Satoru was trying to do his best not to holler in excitement on the other side of the door. You went out of your way to meet him at the front door and ask what he wanted for dinner and told him to have a good day? He felt like a middle school girl. A stupid smile plastered itself on his face as he walked to his car.

And stayed for the rest of the day after.

___________________________________________________________

The next few weeks went just the same: him waking up to breakfast that you sometimes stopped by to eat a few bites of, you saying goodbye and asking what he wanted for dinner at the door, and him coming home to that meal in the evening, which you occasionally ate with him also.

Satoru felt pretty spoiled if he was being honest. He never liked those mysogynistic views on gender roles, especially when it came to the roles of a husband and wife, but he was now understanding the appeal. He had assured you a few times that you didn't need to have something home cooked and ready for him each time he came home, and that he was just as fine with takeout, but that never stopped you. He knew it was serious, if not a little concerning, when he asked for a three-tiered Danish cake for dessert as a joke and you had made two because you, in your words, got bored and had the time. He didn't even know he owned the cooking supplies needed to do that. Nevertheless, to say he ate most of that within a few days would be an understatement.

As time grew, Satoru had been able to observe you more closely. There were the normal things, like the type of books you liked to read (mostly poetry), what time you liked to take your walks (sometime between 3:00 and 6:00pm), and what days you went to the grocery store and farmers market (Wednesdays, if he's correct) despite household staff insisting to him to tell you to stop because it was technically their job. He could never find himself to do so.

Then there were a few... less fortunate things. You still don't look up at him, for starters, and your voice still retained that proper, unnatural tone. Besides the times where you say goodbye to him in the mornings, you always observe and never speak unless he speaks to you. You have a cell phone, but you almost never use it, so he assumed you probably have no friends that you contact, or even family that wanted to contact you for that matter. Lastly, among a few more things, you always try to sneak an ice pack from the fridge some nights when you think he can't see it in your hand as you walk back to your room with it. He never knew what it was for, until he saw it on your neck while you read in the library, something he had to peak through the doors to see.

You get neck pains because of the subservient posture you forced yourself to have around him, and Satoru started to think just how far back this training you had been given goes. He knew that you couldn't get neck pains from bowing if you've only been doing it for a month.

One day, he brought the situation up to Yaga as they watched some student sorcerers training out on the grounds. "You really don't know the kind of backwards training the Kamos put their girls through?" Yaga asked, fixing a stitch on one of his jujustu dolls. "I thought you knew what you were getting into, especially since you're in one of the clans yourself."

"Well, I'm starting to see it," Satoru says with a wince. "I just don't know how to get her to... relax, I guess. Act normal, y'know?"

"Do you think she even knows how?" Yaga mused. Satoru went still. "The Kamos are traditionalistic; their customs span all the way back to the Golden Age of Jujustu as a way to preserve the glory of that time period. This includes how they train their... females."

Satoru furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know much," Yaga said, a piece of the string in his mouth as he adjusted a stitch. "The kinds of things like how to please a husband, how to raise kids, how to behave around authority figures, which includes men. Weird stuff like that. And if (Y/N) is Arao Kamo's only daughter that was betrothed to marry the Six-Eyes wielding Gojo clan head, you can expect her to be well educated in that regard."

Satoru sighs. He felt stupid for not looking into that, for chalking it up to some kind of anxious defense when it was much more than that. "I'm a real fucking idiot."

"Yeah, well, while that may be true, there's not much you can do but give it time. With the kind of stuff she was brainwashed to believe, the least you can do is give her some patience," Yaga said, finishing up his patch.

"True, but that'll take forever," Satoru groans, looking out at the young sorcerers sparring. "She won't do anything unless I tell her to. She doesn't know what it's like to just... have some sort of free will."

"Then maybe show her what's like to have one," Yaga says with a groan, settling back into the bench they were sitting on.

There was a pause before Satoru chuckled. "This is the one time you've actually given me advice that I considered listening to."

"Good. You should, otherwise I'll send you on another mission from this weekend," Yaga grumbled.

"Fine, I'll listen."

___________________________________________________________

That next day, Satoru planned on asking you about something when he saw you before he left.

"Hey, pretty girl," he quipped with a smile as he walked down the stairs, enjoying the slight blush that formed on your cheeks, something he had noticed the past few times he called you that.

"Good morn-" your gentle words were cut off by a sudden cough and a sniffle that caught his attention. He stepped in front of you.

"Hey, are you alright? Is your throat okay?" he asked, his usual teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

You seemed to pause for a moment before speaking. "I'm alright. Something caught in my throat is-" You coughed again, this time more aggressively as you turned to cover it.

Satoru's brow furrowed. He gently pulled your chin so you could face him again. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand. "You're burning up, (Y/N). You probably have a fever."

"I can assure you, Gojo, I feel-" You gasped as you were suddenly lifted into his arms, his hands resting underneath your back and knees as he walked you back up the stairs. He smiled a little when he felt you throw your arms around his neck.

"Please don't lie to me, (Y/N). How long have you been feeling like this?" Satoru asked calmly as he carried you to your room. You looked down at the floor.

A pause. "About the past two days." Satoru sighed.

He opened the door to your room and set you down on the bed. "Hold tight, okay? I'm just going to go grab some things..." He left and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, some medicine, and a glass of water.

Setting the items down on your bedside table, Satoru started by ripping two pills out of their packaging and handing them to you with the water. "Why have you been walking about like normal when you've been feeling this way for the past two days?"

You took a moment to take the pills before answering. "I am well enough to complete my usual routine, so I saw no need for rest. I had the staff prepare your meals to make sure you did not catch my illness," you replied weakly, trying not to cough.

Satoru shook his head. "But we have people hired here to do those tasks anyway. You still need to take care of yourself." Your brow furrowed.

"But I'm still-"

"Don''t fight me on this," Satoru butted in. You lowered your head, eyes despondent. "I don't mean to say I don't appreciate what you do every single day. Really, I really appreciate it. But I don't want you doing anything when you're clearly feeling like shit."

"My apologies-"

"Don't apologize. Please." Satoru's mouth tightened when he saw the ashamed look on your face, the way your shoulders caved slightly. He spoke again, this time more smoothly. "I'll call Yaga to cancel my appointments for today. Just let me take care of you... and don't feel bad about it. Okay?"

Satoru didn't care that he was almost begging with you, but he needed you to understand that that's all he really wanted right now. To take care of and cater to you for a change instead of you constantly doing so for him.

"But, you might get sick too..." His chest tightened a little at the guilt you displayed, your tone of voice, the slight whine in it.

"That's fine. Just means I don't have to go to work longer," Satoru chuckled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to your legs. "But don't think that's the only reason I'm here with you now, of course."

Your lips moved into a small, downturned smile as you huffed a laugh. You weren't even smiling in full, yet he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

A sharp, painful sounding cough from you broke the silence. Satoru handed you the water again, propping another pillow behind your head. Once you finished, he took the water from you and handed you a woolen blanket that you had resting on the end of your bed. "I'll get some lozenges for your throat and some tissues. For now, just rest for me, okay? I'll come back to check on you, but if you need anything just yell. I'll be in my room," he said as he adjusted the ice pack onto your forehead.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked almost... stunned. Like you never expected this. It made Satoru sadder than he would like to admit.

After a few seconds, he stood, turned off the lights, and shut the door quietly. He walked away right before the sound of your soft cries reached the door.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru looked after you for the next two days, making sure you took medications and got proper rest. Even when you were well enough to get back on your feet, he still made your meals and brought you ice packs and popsicles at night for your throat.

He apologized the first few times he served you food, scratching the back of his head and laughing. Sure, his grilled cheese and tomato soup wasn't bad, but it was embarrassing compared to your culinary genius. You never replied, looking back at him with a perplexed expression.

Satoru noticed this, and he had his suspicions as to why you may be confused. Because you had been living with him for the past month and a half, he was able to easily discern what your looks meant, or at least, what he thought they meant. Your confusion was not necessarily because of actual confusion, but rather, because you weren't used to gestures like this. It was a little disheartening, of course, but slowly, you began to accept them with a small smile and nod of your head. It put him at ease to see you that way.

Now was the third day Satoru stayed home to be with you, and because you seemed to be doing much better, he knew this would probably be the last day he would have to do so. Thus so, he wanted to make the most of it.

It was early afternoon when Satory began to approach your room. You had taken to sleeping in while being sick, and if there was one thing he had definitely learned from this time with you, it's that you could sleep when you weren't waking yourself up at a certain time. He found it cute, and somewhat surprising.

He snuck into your room as you slept, gently placing the reason he came in on your bedside table: a vase, with those blue hydrangeas in it. And just as he was about to walk out, you called his name.

Satoru stilled and turned slowly. You were staring at the flowers on the bedside with a haphazard, exhausted look on your face. God, and just when he thought this moment couldn't get any more precious...

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Goddamn, and I had it all planned out too! Having you wake up to flowers, I was just gonna get cracking on some blueberry pancakes and everything-"

"Oh... are we celebrating something?" you asked, looking between your hands and the flowers.

"No, 's just because. Unless there's something you want to celebrate? Happy your-fever-decreased-from-103-to-101 day?" he chuckled. "Anyway, I'm going to attempt to make pancakes even though I'm ass at it. Hope you're okay with Frosted Flakes as a fall-back option." Satoru turned towards the door again. This woman has him adding blueberries to his pancakes-

"Satoru...?"

He paused, stopped, buffered, restarted. Did you just call him Satoru? His brain was running laps around the replayed sound of your voice in his head as he turned. He was elated, estatic, down-right jolly, one might say.

And then all that was thrown out the window he faced you completely, and you were looking right at him.

Head up. Eyes bright. Smile... paragon.

"Thank you... for taking care of me."

Satoru knew you weren't just talking about this past three days. He felt like a five year old boy laying his eyes on you again for the first time as he, the ever so confident, swaggering, and teasing Gojo Satoru, flushed. "Yeah, no, it's no biggie, you deserve it cause you do so much and you're my wife so I kind of have to and-" he bumped into the door behind him, "fuck, you know what? I'm just gonna shut up and go... pancakes... haha, yeah..."

This poor man Satoru turned the corner and facepalmed, shutting your door behind him while your small laughs could be heard from the other side of the door. Running a hand through his hair, he tried his best to compose himself while he walked away, but then your face flashed in his mind again, and it was like he had a buzz that reached from his brain down to his whole body. He was smitten.

Once he reached the kitchen, soft music playing from his phone, he searched up that pancake recipe. While he began to get out ingredients, there was a knock as someone entered through the doors that led to the rest of the estate. One of the household staff.

"Sir, there's a guest at the front door," the woman stated.

"Who?" Satoru asked as he leaned over the counter while scrolling through the recipe.

"Arao Kamo, sir."

Fuck.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby—vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

I love you guys

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. PLAYLIST

༉‧₊˚. episode 06: temptation's tangle

preview: ". . . “What’s the occasion?” “Being hungry?” You glare at his sarcastic comment and Hanma shrugs his shoulders with an amused grin. “What? You don’t trust me?” “Exactly, I don’t.” “Well just to remind you, we agreed to be fuck buddies so–”

“For fuck’s sake–” . ."

content warning: suggestive content, abandonment issues, hanma is a d!ck but what's new.

word count: 5,4k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @mitsuwuyaa @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa @bejeweled-night-33

➜ MASTERLIST

➜ note: yet another chapter woohoo!! this one's a bit exciting for me because we get to see new characters appearing in the reader's life. and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

Saturdays were for resets. You didn’t like to go out that much during the weekends, so it was a hassle to reject your co-worker’s offer to go out for drinks the night after a long week of exhausting and intense work. You would much rather stay inside, go over your to-do list and look around your place to see which area needed the most cleaning. The kitchen was definitely a mess, but your room? Good lord. Your room looked as though a hurricane had passed and devoured it before spitting it out.

No matter how much you tried to be organized, you always found yourself with a mess on the floor, half of your makeup on your vanity and the other half in the bathroom along with a bunch of shoes lined up next to your entrance. You puff out some air as you stand in the middle of your room.

“I really need to get my shit together.” Have you said these words before? Absolutely. 

Will you probably say them again in two weeks? Oh, of course. 

But right now, you need a distraction from what happened two days ago–something that quiets down the voice that keeps nagging you to grab your phone and check if he sent a message, if something had changed. You recognized that you were being a walking contradiction–between promising yourself to be mad at him and loathing him only a week ago, to suddenly wishing he was in your bedroom, pinning you to your mattress and drilling his cock into you–yeah, you were a mess. 

It’s not like you didn’t have a vibrator, or hands! Your hands did an amazing job at fulfilling your needs, you knew where to touch yourself, how to stroke your pussy in a way that had your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. A sigh would then escape your lips, a needy one because nothing felt as amazing as a mindblowing orgasm after teasing yourself for so long. Your hips would then buck up, and your hand is rubbing very messily at your poor clit before you cum with a loud and long moan–

“Shuji–!” 

You snap out of it so fast, jolting up away from your bed and blinking at your reflection in the mirror.

What the fuck? 

A grown ass woman–one who gets action…not that often, but still enough to fulfill her needs, daydreaming about a man whom she slept with once? It doesn’t make sense. Or maybe it does, you're too deep in denial to admit that the person you've been longing for is the same man who shaped parts of your teenage years, even if it was only for a short time.

The heavy sigh that leaves you is so loud that it bounces off the walls of your empty apartment. So vacant, but it reminds you how Hanma’s short yet dominating presence was enough to make it feel…less hollow. You hated how he filled the void that you had been long wanting to replace, whether it be by decorating your space with greenery or going on pottery dates with friends or even getting your cat more toys just to watch him run around the apartment–the loneliness was hard to swallow. You despised the feeling, it gripped you by the throat and forced you to remember the framed pictures sitting on the shelf above the TV. Friends, family, co-workers–you were made of pieces of them, each having given you a memory to cling onto and use it as a lifeline. 

What do you do when that lifeline is barely hanging by a thread?

Your eyes land on the singular picture that rests on your nightstand, and your frown deepens for a moment as realization hits you. The two people in this picture were supposed to stay with you for a long time, your protectors as they liked to call themselves. You purse your lips and inhale deeply. The bitter aftertaste sitting on your tongue is hard to wash down.

You were perfectly fine being shaped by bits of everyone you'd ever met, but weren’t your brothers meant to be there for life?

“Here, keep this on you all the time.” You stare at the shiny knife as your oldest brother places it on your nightstand, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and you’re forced to close your book.

“A knife?”

“Yeah, it’s for your safety.”

“Ran, why would I need to carry a knife with me?” 

“You never know,” you’re not sure if that’s meant to comfort you—probably not. 

Ran Haitani is very proud of the fact that he had adopted you. Technically, his parents did–but he hated them, and they abandoned you a long time ago, so it was he who adopted you. He remembers you being a tiny baby in your mother’s arms the day that she had picked you up from the adoption center, said something about how she was so excited for this new chapter of her life, and both Ran and Rindou were excited–over the moon to be welcoming a little sister. At 6 and 5 years old, they didn’t know what blood related meant– it never mattered to them in the first place even as they got older. You were a Haitani, their precious little sister, and that meant the whole world to them.

However, the bond grew a little bit stronger after your parents left. Your father was the first to abandon the family, you were 5, Ran was 10 and Rindou’s 9th birthday was approaching. You remember it being a cold day–it wasn’t gloomy outside or anything, but as you sat in the middle of the living room with your brothers by your side, the apartment felt a bit bigger, emptier. A child is fragile, anything can affect them if not dealt with properly–the absence of your father was the first time you had to experience your ‘big feelings’ as Ran liked to describe them. You don’t know what holding back tears is, so you cry as you hug your knees to your chest and let Rindou soothe your back with a gentle hand. It’s a small gesture, but enough to anchor your stuttering breaths. 

“It’s okay,” Rindou says as you sniffle. When you look at him, you see that his eyes are glossed over with something–tears. He blinks them away as soon as he catches you staring at him. “It’s not like we need him, right?”

“Of course not,” Ran speaks confidently, standing over you and Rindou with a superhero-like stance. “As long as you’ve got me, nothing will happen to you!”

“And me!” Upon seeing his older brother act like a superhero, Rindou quickly jumps up and stands next to him. It’s adorable, it gives you hope–your little child body, so overwhelmed with emotion and having to deal with the abandonment of a parent temporarily distracted by the two boys standing in front of you.

“I’m Sailor Uranus,” Ran extends one arm outward with his fingers splayed, while his other arm is bent at his side. He shares a look with Rindou, trying to mask his wobbling lips. Rindou averts his gaze, cheeks set ablaze with overwhelming emotion. Sadness, embarrassment mixed with determination to make you, his little sister, feel better even for a few moments. 

“And I’m Sailor Neptune!” Rindou extends his arm forward, with his other hand pointing slightly upward towards you. Your heart swells with emotion, and you bring your arm to your face to wipe your tears.

“I..I’m Sailor Moon!” You join in weakly, and for a moment—(just a small one), everything seems okay. You have your brothers with you, recreating your favorite characters’ pose and trying to cheer you up. Just for a split second, you’re distracted from the ache that invades your heart and spreads all over your chest. 

But distractions are bad. Like a bandage on a leaking dam, offering a false sense of control while the real flood builds behind them. 

You had always looked up to your mother. It’s natural for a child to have an innocent fascination with one particular parent—after your father left, your mother had become everything to you. Now that you look back at it, it was definitely fear of being separated from her. Losing her so unexpectedly like you did with your father. You would sit in the living room waiting for her to come back from work, whilst Ran and Rindou were outside playing and didn’t necessarily mind the absence of their mother. They were older after all, and perhaps were able to see her for who she truly was earlier than you did. 

“She’s not going to come back on time,” Ran announces from behind you. You don’t move, still looking out of the window and waiting for her silhouette to appear. “You have to eat.”

“No,” you don’t mean for your voice to crack, but alas you’re a child and you cannot control your emotions. You wear your heart on your sleeve and the hurt you’re feeling from your mother’s repetitive tardiness is very apparent. “I’m not hungry.”

As if to mock you, your stomach growls the moment you say it. And Ran sighs behind you before approaching you. 

“No–” you push him away when he wraps his hand around your arm. “I won’t eat–!”

“Rindou hasn’t eaten all day,” Ran’s voice is stern. It momentarily distracts you from your stubbornness and your bottom lip starts wobbling. “He doesn’t want to eat without you—so please,” his voice is now barely above a whisper and your eyes meet his own lavender ones. The sob you choke out is raw, painful–you can’t hold it back any longer and you fall forward, attaching yourself onto your older brother. The taller boy holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back as he heaves out a sigh.

No child deserves to go through this. 

A few months later, you get accustomed to seeing your mother less often. By the age of 10, Ran and Rindou had managed to make a name for themselves around the area–the rulers of Roppongi. You choose to ignore the events that led them in juvenile detention, you don’t necessarily associate that with great memories but life feels… simple. 

Whilst Ran brings the food and takes care of anything money related, Rindou is the one who is in tune with your emotional needs. He holds you in his arms when you are sad and caresses your head when you’re upset after a particularly nasty fight with Ran. Rindou reminds you of the importance of the rules that they had given you when they started ruling Roppongi, that the way you dress is very important as a Haitani—their little sister. 

You carried that with you through adulthood.

The walls of your apartment have heard you cry for them, felt your sobs and longing. It’s strange how your apartment only knows of their existence through pictures, like ghosts they've never seen in person. Like hearing the echo of laughter in an empty room—faint and distant, yet it lingers, reminding you of the voices that once filled your childhood. 

You are filled with sadness and melancholy and longing—you feel ready to burst like a heavy rain cloud but somehow, you find the strength to hold it all in whilst darkening everything beneath you. Whilst the past few years have been one of the most important ones in your life, you can't deny that with every person you encountered, the shell guarding your heart grew tougher. Like armor forged over time. 

It’s useless to grieve the past, you can’t let it distract you from the task at hand, so you grab your vacuum cleaner and get to work.

Hopefully you’re done before sunset.

–

Ding dong

The digital clock on your microwave flashes 8:12PM in red, bold colors. You did your usual cleaning, showered and dried your hair, planned an outfit for Monday and were checking on some work you needed to do before the week starts. Who would visit you at this time of the day?

None of your co-workers had texted you all day, and you were hoping that they weren’t here to try to convince you to go out. Saying no to them the first time was hard as it is. 

“Shoooo,” you tell your cat as he races you to the front door. “Go away, you can’t get out,” you mumble to your fur companion as you place him on his cat tree and watch as he digs his claws into the plush fabric before running away to your room. 

Ding–ding ding ding!

“Coming! I’m coming,” you rush to unlock the door, forgetting to check through the peephole. As you open it, you get a whiff of a familiar perfume and a tall figure is standing a little too close to you.

“Wha–”

“I got dinner.” 

Of course it would be him. 

He stands before you in all his glory. Brand new suit, messy hair (he must’ve had a long day) and shoes that definitely looked less shinier than usual. You try not to stare too hard at his body, fight the carnal urge that tells you to keep your eyes a little longer on his thighs and lean against the door frame with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“Being hungry?” You glare at his sarcastic comment and Hanma shrugs his shoulders with an amused grin.

“What? You don’t trust me?”

“Exactly, I don’t.”

“Well just to remind you, we agreed to be fuck buddies so–”

“For fuck’s sake–” you yank him inside your apartment and Hanma almost lets out a giggle at how flustered you looked. “You need to stop saying shit like that in my hallway.”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“People could hear you,” you shoot him a glare as you walk away from him. Hanma doesn’t miss the chance of checking out your ass in your tight booty shorts. He licks his lips and follows right behind you, plastic bags rustling as he places the food on the kitchen counter.

“What did you get anyway?” You ask as you sit back on the kitchen table, nose shoved deep in your laptop as you continue your work. You’re far too focused on the words in front of you to notice that Hanma had quieted down and was now fully staring at you–taking the sight of you and placing it at the forefront of his mind. 

Despite having seen you naked before, Shuji thinks that you look the most attractive like this. Like the adult women that you matured into. He can’t remember the last time he saw you this concentrated—(was it when he snuck into your room as teenagers? He found you sitting at your desk, nose buried in your homework that you didn’t even notice him opening your window after he had climbed your fire escape). He can’t say he doesn’t like it. The smallest details stood out to the same man who claims to be nonchalant about everything else–the slight pout and frown to your lips, eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting across the screen, pausing briefly to take in each and every word. You wear glasses now. 

(And glasses look good on you, they make your nose look cute).

 A sigh escapes your lips and as you inhale, you finally catch his stare. Intense like a spotlight, analyzing your every move and pinning you in place. 

For obvious reasons, you feel tense under the weight of his golden eyes fixed on you. Exposed, stripped of any secrets you hadn’t even dared to write down in your diary. Hanma’s eyes had the effect of unraveling every guarded truth, as if his intense gaze alone could coax confessions from the deepest corners of your soul. 

Like how you touch yourself to the thought of him.

You avert your gaze towards the bag, growing uncomfortable with the suffocating silence.

“So?”

“Ramen.” You almost deadpan at the man. It’s fascinating how he can shift the tension in the room just by spilling out a few words. 

“You bought ramen??”

“Am I not allowed to?” He pushes himself off of the kitchen counter and starts walking towards you.

“When you said I got dinner, I thought you meant a meal,” you take off your glasses and place them on the table before staring at the bag tiredly. “That’s an unhealthy meal, Hanma.”

“That’s what I get for dinner, usually.”

“You’ve got money.”

“Your point?”

“Go to restaurants??” you say in disbelief and Hanma shrugs his shoulders as he stands next to you, enjoying the obvious height difference. One that reminds him of how big his hands looked on your thighs that night. 

“Tooooo much work,” he drags out his words before stretching his arms over his head. The action elicits a yawn out of his lips and you scoff before grabbing the bag and emptying its content on the table. “Besides, what’s so bad about having instant ramen?”

“It’s unhealthy,” you reply flatly, reaching for the electric kettle. You fill it up with water before pressing the ‘on’ button, the action coming to you so quickly and naturally that it makes Hanma raise an eyebrow.

“Hey, you turned it on a little too fast for someone who thinks instant ramen is unhealthy,” 

“Because this is my kitchen?” The reply you give is laced with sarcasm, absolutely done with whatever he has to say and all Hanma does is just stand back and grin. How fun. 

“Right, of course,” you avert your gaze the moment Hanma’s fingers wrap around his tie, loosening it to allow himself to breathe a little–feel comfortable in an apartment that has already welcomed him twice already. Does he remember the layout? Not exactly. However, his brain is able to trace the map from your kitchen to your bedroom like a professional cartographer. The detail was etched in their mind, like a name carved into stone. 

So he makes himself comfortable, he walks past you and into the living room and you watch as he sits on your couch and stares around your decorated space. 

“Is that a cat tree?” he points at the item sitting near the window. 

“Mmmh,” you hum in response, pouring water into the instant ramen cups. “Why?”

“ ‘s just that I’ve never seen your cat,” he looks around, trying to figure out where your fur companion might be. “But I see signs of that fucker everywhere.”

“Don’t call my cat a fucker.” You almost hiss and it catches Hanma off guard. Not that it was the first time you ever spoke to him in that tone, but you must be very attached to your cat. 

“Whew,” he whistles as he raises his arms in the air.. “My bad. Didn’t know you were that kind of person.” 

Your eye twitches. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you pause on your way to the living room, the cups of ramen were starting to burn your hands but you could care less. 

“Y’know, getting all defensive over an animal?”

“You mean have empathy and emotional connection?” 

“Emotional connection with a cat?” Hanma braces himself forward with his elbows on his knees. His side profile comes into view, but he quickly turns to face you and he sees the way you were slowly losing your patience. “That shit is for people who are lonely.”

It is eerily silent after that. For a good five seconds, Hanma doesn’t seem to understand why you give no reply nor do you make a move. He looks away, pats his pocket to find his phone and turns to look at you. You are still glued to your spot. 

You hope he doesn't hear the sound of your heart breaking, or notice the way your body instantly deflates. 

“It must be.” Your reply is devoid of any emotion. You look away from Hanma’s intense gaze, suddenly growing uncomfortable under all of the attention he was giving you. As you take a seat on the couch (while maintaining a good distance between you and the tall man), you push Hanma’s cup towards him. 

“Here.”

“Thank you.” 

Hanma doesn’t feel comfortable with the silence. It bothers him that he doesn’t. 

You try not to pay attention to him, but it turns out that it’s a hard task given how huge the man is. He spreads his legs on your couch, leaving you almost no space, so you have to nudge his thigh with your knee. 

“Move, you’re taking up too much space.” You’re still avoiding his gaze, and Hanma’s finger twitches as he reaches for his ramen cup. 

“I’m a tall man, doll.”

“Don’t care, you’re sitting on my couch.” You say it with a hint of childishness, your tone laced with annoyance.

Hanma chooses to let it slide and slightly closes his legs, allowing you more space on your small couch. However, your behavior still doesn’t sit right with him. You're not truly aware of your surroundings, even though it may seem like you are—one moment you’re holding your chopsticks, the next you’re looking for the remote control. Hanma watches as you jab at the noodles with your chopsticks, seemingly unfazed by the steam rising from the cup.

“It’s hot.” 

Be careful.

“Ah!” you hold a hand to your mouth, your chopsticks falling on the surface of your coffee table. Your eyes are pricking with tears, and you fan your mouth whilst internally cursing yourself for not paying attention.

“Told you it’s hot,” he sounds unbothered—perhaps a little bored, but still reaches for your face to grab it. You don’t fight back despite the urge to get away from him—from his touch. His rough hand holds your jaw like a rag doll and you force yourself to open your eyes. “Open up.” He takes notice of your swollen lips, then you stick out your tongue and it’s reddened. 

In that moment, you realize there's no space left between the two of you. Any distance you tried to maintain with the tall man has vanished, and you let it happen—you let yourself forget why you're mad at him, giving your mind a break from the constant tension around him.

Everything quiets down, you instantly find yourself lost in the same gaze you had been trying long and hard to avoid. You feel hot—you are sure Hanma’s body feels like a furnace against your skin. However, like two flames flickering inches apart, you both burn with the same heat but never quite touch in a way that would have you melting like a candle. 

It’s a continuous tug of war inside your brain as you hold his gaze, your pulse quickening with each subconscious attempt at moving closer to him—even by an inch. Technically, the two of you were now fuckbuddies, two friends who fuck when the other is free or one is feeling like it. There were no strings attached, no responsibilities, no—

“Ya hungry?” Hanma’s voice is a few octaves deeper. You feel a chill run down your spine before making a poor attempt at shaking your head whilst he’s still holding your jaw. 

You feel a pair of lips against yours, and you take it as a response to what you had told him. 

Hanma’s kisses are rough—he pushes his entire body on top of yours as he kisses you, trapping you beneath him. 

You’re glad the cushions beneath you are soft, because the way he pins you down is anything but.

Dominating and playful, he moves his lips against yours in such a dizzying manner that you have to tap his shoulder to ask him for air. But even when he pulls away from your lips to allow you oxygen, his lips land on another patch of skin—your cheek, your jaw, his teeth nibble at your earlobe and he can feel his cock throb when you buck up your hips. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?”

He presses his forehead against yours and you grow annoyed. Frustration washes over you as you realize you crave more of him, even though you know you shouldn't allow the man so close or invade your personal space. Yet, here you are, yielding beneath him. His kisses are like a wildfire in your veins—once it ignites, it spreads uncontrollably, and no matter how dangerous, you can’t help but feed the flames. 

And feed the flames, you do.

Hanma has never seen you so eager, so needy—sure he’s fucked you before, he’s nestled his cock so deep within the snug walls of your pussy but this–

This was different. 

You’re craving him—his lips against yours like a lifeline. Not once has he seen your body move so desperately against his own whilst your clothes are still on. It makes the muscles of his face twitch.

Smirking, he grabs the back of your thigh and pushes it up to your chest before leaning down—face dangerously close to yours. He doesn’t say anything, eyes scanning your expression—the twitch to your lips, the slight furrow to your eyebrows and the sigh that escapes through your nose from how needy you are. You throw your head back against the couch, nudging Hanma’s butt with your free foot. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Am I?” His tone, his words—they make the butterflies in your stomach erupt like wildfire. You can only afford to whine in response, clearly struggling to take his teasing. He is so dominant— to the point where submitting to him was the only choice you had. As you lie beneath him, Hanma is like a cat playing with a string, effortlessly toying with your patience and leaving you both frustrated and horny. 

Incredibly horny. 

“Shuji,” you reach your hands towards his face, holding it and brushing your thumbs against his cheeks. You brush your nose against his, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip so softly—so gently that it makes him chuckle. 

“You’re gentle with it,” he breathes hotly against your lips, digging his fingers into your skin to show you how rough he likes it. You’re about to push him off of you, straddle his lap and show him that you can be rough with it. It feels like a treat you’re craving, it’s attached to a string and Hanma keeps pulling it away from you every time you’re about to have it—

A loud moan escapes your lips when he’s back on you so suddenly, not giving you enough time to breathe or ground yourself. Gripping his shoulders, Hanma enjoys the feeling of your nails digging into his skin—it ignites his body on fire and heightens his senses. The tall man grows more aware of your body temperature, of the vanilla body lotion you had freshly applied onto your skin or how you seem to be letting your nails grow longer—he’s locked in. 

“Oh doll,” he breathes out against your lips as he pulls away. You’re about to moan in response, rile him up further until he’s snatching your clothes off your skin and dig his cock deep into your insides–

“Fuck!” Hanma shouts–no, he screams out of nowhere and is pushing his body off of you. “What the fuck?!”

“What–what?! What’s wrong?” you’re confused, a little startled as you push yourself up with your elbows. 

“Motherfucker–” you hear hissing from the end of the couch, and you look behind Hanma to find your cat sinking his claws into his back. “Let go of me!”

“Calm down!” you try to separate the two, get your cat off the couch and Hanma to stop reaching for the back of his blouse.

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down when this little fucker–I will fucking–”

“I said calm down.” you repeat sternly. Your hands reach for your cat’s paws, although he hisses at you, you still understand that it’s a normal reaction for him. Standing up, you grab your fur companion who tries to wriggle out of your hold and he comes face to face with a furious Hanma. 

Your cat hisses again.

“The fuck is his problem?”

“He’s not used to strangers,” you caress your pet’s head, sensing that he’s on high alert. “Let alone men.” 

“Your cat hates men?” 

Your face twists. “My cat isn’t a misandrist.” You roll your eyes at him. “He just… doesn’t appreciate men.” 

“Fancy fucking word–” 

“Anyway, I’m taking him to his room.”

“This fucker has a room?”

“Technically it’s my office.” 

Hanma watches as you walk away with the fur companion who meows very loudly, making his dislike towards the man very clear. He hears you try to shush the pet, promise it good food and treats as long as he behaves and if Hanma didn’t know any better, he would think you were crazy.

Maybe you were. He would never show that much patience towards an animal. 

But now he is able to process what has happened. Assessing the situation, the realization that he got cockblocked by a damn cat hits him like a truck and he sits there, dumbfounded and half offended. 

Cockblocked by a fucking cat. 

You walk back into the living room, looking a bit embarrassed and Hanma takes it that you had come to the same conclusion as him. You stand next to the couch, awkward and stiff and your hands are fiddling with the fabric of your shorts before you open your mouth.

“I-”

“Don’t even.” 

Hearing his bored tone, you deflate and sigh before plopping next to him on the couch. You were now drier than the Sahara and he didn’t seem interested in rearranging your insides as he was a few moments ago. 

Well, you still have your food to finish. 

“Want me to heat up your food again?” 

“Mmm, sure.” 

—

Hanma plans to leave as soon as he’s done eating. It’s almost hilarious the way he grabs his jacket the moment he slurps the final noodle into his mouth and you don’t have it in you to ask him where he’s going. 

After all, it wasn’t part of your agreement. Despite the fact that you didn’t even fuck properly tonight, you still knew that his business wasn’t yours to know and his presence was always going to be temporary. 

“The elevator’s working by the way,” you are throwing the cups of Ramen in the trash when you suddenly speak up and Hanma has to pause his movements. 

“They fixed it?”

“After paying a huge sum of money, yeah they did.”

“That’s good.”

“Mmmhm.” Cold and distant, this is how you want to present yourself to the same man who has no problem taking your heart in his hands and shattering it into small pieces. 

“Next time I come over, I hope that fucker doesn’t dig his nails into my ass next.” Next time.

“I’ll make sure we fuck on my bed then.” You say playfully, bringing the glass of water to your lips and Hanma watches as you maintain eye contact the whole time. 

“Oh yeah? Already planning the next time we gonna fuck?”

You shrug your shoulders. “You were good. I’d be a fool if I said I didn’t want it again.”

Hanma chuckles, offering his signature smirk with a tilt to his head. “Good? Not great, or fucking amazing?”

“Good.” You put emphasis on the word, but the tall man notices how you avoid his eyes and it’s an indirect confession. 

“Sounds like you want me to change your mind.” Squeezing your thighs at the sound of his deep voice, you almost moan in relief when you see him start to take off his jacket.

Fucking finally. 

“Maybe I do.”

—

The November cold was unbearable. The man shivers inside his own car and his hand reaches towards the heater to turn it on. He doesn’t understand why he is here, it was too late for him to be parked under a residential building and he sure hopes he doesn’t look suspicious with the way he keeps checking for the door. 

“Come on, come on…” 

Almost on cue, the door opens and a tall figure walks out. Hair messed up, clothes half adjusted and a cigarette hanging off his lips. It was none other than Hanma Shuji. The man watches as the criminal checks his phone for a good ten seconds before blowing out smoke, his chest stutters a bit as he scoffs and he shoves the device into his pocket before walking towards his car. 

Hanma doesn’t seem to notice the unknown car and the mysterious man is grateful for that. He wants to avoid problems. 

However, how was he going to explain his sudden visit at 11:30PM? 

He shouldn’t…or perhaps he should. 

When you open the door, your eyes are heavy with sleep and the man can’t help but stare at the love bites littering your neck. 

“Hey, missed me?”

Your eyes widen and you instinctively open the door wider. 

“Chifuyu.”

༉‧₊˚. interested in commissioning me? if not, leave a ko-fi!

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Paying for the Sins of Our Fathers

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: A new serial killer arrives in Los Angeles with a penchant for girls with bad relationships with their fathers. After you offer yourself up as bait to catch him, Deacon shows you that you're not as hard to love as you think.

Warnings: angst to fluff, serial killer, secondary character deaths, age gap, depiction of terrible father-daughter relationships (going to say allusion to DV just to be safe but if there is it's nuanced not explicitly stated)

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

A/N: Alexa, play Glasshouse Children.

*This is not a rewrite of Sins of the Father, just a titling coinkydink.

Picture from Pinterest (I love this scene so much)

“Caramel pumpkin chai for Lia!”

Lia sighs as she stands and walks to the counter. The coffee shop, one of Santa Monica’s hidden gems that most people walk right by, is nearly empty at this hour. A writer wearing headphones slaves over a laptop in one corner, three young girls read together, pausing every few minutes to discuss the previous chapter, and a man draws in a weathered leather journal. This is how Lia likes the café, but she’s not sure it’s what she needs tonight.

Sitting with her drink, she ignores the envelope in her bag. Her father sent a message from prison, where he’s been since she was a freshman in high school nearly a decade ago, but she’s yet to open it. She’s not sure she can, not sure she wants to, even. Tapping the screen of her phone, she smiles when she sees a reply from her best friend.

Come over, and we’ll talk. Catch this love <3

“Excuse me,” the man with the journal says, standing sheepishly by Lia’s table. “I just wanted to say hello, and, uh, I hope you don’t mind, but I included you in my sketch of the coffee shop.”

“Oh,” Lia replies, smiling at the interruption. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Good, good. I won’t keep you, but it’s a hard anniversary for me, but drawing helps and it was nice to have a friendly face in the scene.”

“I understand completely. I hope the rest of your night is good.”

“Thank you,” he replies, nodding once. “You, too.”

“Wait,” Lia calls as he turns. “Could I maybe see the picture?”

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he answers with a chuckle. “I’m not very good. My father told me I should find another hobby, but, well… he’s why I’m here tonight drawing instead of remembering the past.”

Lia shakes her head and offers, “Dads are tough, believe me, I know. If you enjoy drawing, though, keep doing it. Good for you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The man pauses and waves generally as he adds, “About your dad, I mean.”

“It is what it is,” Lia says, shrugging. “Are you sure I can’t see the picture?”

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

“The last scene I drew was a visiting area in a state prison, so it’s a light in this sketchbook.”

“I haven’t been in a prison in years, but I’m sure a setting that grim can’t be easy to draw.”

“I like the challenge, but the distraction was the real reward. After I visit the prison, I go up Getty Center Drive just to get away from it all, you know?”

“It’s gorgeous up there,” Lia sighs.

“You should go sometime, to clear your mind. Even alone with your thoughts, everything just seems more peaceful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

The man nods and steps toward the door. Lia pushes the envelope from her father deeper into her bag before she stands and picks up her drink. She’s ready to talk, and her friend is waiting, like always. As she walks toward her car, Lia smiles.

“Good night,” the man calls from beside his car. “You should really go to Getty after you return your dad’s letter in person.”

Lia’s smile drops as she presses the button to unlock her car. “How did you know that?”

“On second thought,” the man muses lightly, walking toward Lia’s car. “Why don’t we go together? Right now?”

Lia tries to scream, but his hand presses against her mouth, a damp rag silencing her cries.

You yawn as Street continues his story about the motorcycle race he allegedly won last night. Before he can tell you the epic conclusion, a group of at least thirty cops walks into SWAT HQ and heads directly to the situation room. Street silences, and you watch the officers and detectives walk through the building.

“20 Squad, situation room!” Hicks yells. “Now!”

You follow Street inside and find a place at the back to stand. Deacon, Hondo, and Luca enter from the other side and look at you questioningly as they join you. You shrug, and Street stands by Luca as they theorize what the large meeting could mean.

“I’m Detective Ryan Carradine of the Mid-Wilshire division,” Carradine introduces, gesturing for everyone to quiet. “We have patrol officers, Metro SWAT, UCs, and the homicide division from several different stations here today because we have a county-wide case.”

A map with nine red dots appears on the screen behind him. Each dot has a date and time beside it, each one five days apart.

“By which I mean there is a new serial killer in Los Angeles. In the last 45 days, we have located nine bodies, each a female in her early-20s to late-30s. Early this morning, we found Lia Carter, a 24-year-old woman from Rustic Canyon. Carter was attacked sometime between midnight and 2 a.m., and she was left for dead in brush off Getty Center Drive. She’s in critical condition, but if she pulls through, she will be the only survivor.”

“What’s the connection between victims?” a homicide detective inquires.

Carradine tsks, then answers, “Our teams are working on that now. What we’ve got tentatively is the age range, females, and…” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he adds, “They all seem to have strained or nonexistent relationships with their fathers.”

You look at Street, who purses his lips and shrugs.

“Carter was found with an unopened letter from her father stapled to her shirt, he’s serving life in Lancaster State Prison for killing her high school boyfriend,” Carradine explains.

“What does this have to do with us?” Street whispers.

“So, because of the extent of this case, we need everyone in this room on their A-game. If that’s not you, I want you out and I will find someone to take your spot.”

No one moves, so Carradine nods and steps to the side as Commander Hicks joins him.

“I’m Commander Bob Hicks,” he begins, “I’ll be assisting Detective Carradine in an operational capacity. I’m also placing my 20-David SWAT team on standby for anything related to this case. The moment we get a warrant, they’ll be ready to roll.”

“That being said,” Carradine interjects, “Mid-Wilshire’s Metro is prepared to pick up slack for other tactical calls. If you need immediate tactical support for this case, alert Hicks, otherwise, dispatch will get you a team from another station.”

“What other information do you have?” an officer asks. “Suspects, forensics?”

“Short answer: nothing.”

The undercover chief suggests, “We can get UC officers out, advertise poor paternal relationships, try to bring this guy into the light.”

“It won’t work,” an officer states as he enters the situation room. “Lia Carter regained consciousness. She said he knew; that the man had details about her relationship with her father, things she’d never told anyone other than police and therapists.”

“Then UC is out,” Carradine murmurs, rubbing his forehead. “Any other ideas?”

You inhale before you say, “Send me in.”

The officers standing between you and Carradine look back and step to the side so he can see you clearly. Hicks looks from you to Hondo, then back to you, and shakes his head gently.

“If he can get his hands on that kind of information, then he could find out that I fit. I’m the right age, no relationship with dad,” you explain. “It’s as good as a UC as you’re going to get in this.”

Standing beside you, Deacon tenses his jaw. He doesn’t want you to do this; he wants you to be as far from this serial killer as you possibly can, but it’s not his place to ask you to stay. No matter how much he wishes it was.

“Absolutely not,” Hondo says instead.

“There’s way too much at stake,” Luca adds.

“He could know even more,” Street exclaims. “We don’t know his MO, what he does before or after the killings.”

You look to Deacon rather than answering your other teammates, and he licks his lips before he says, “It’s your decision. We’ll be here for you, whether you stay or go.”

Nodding, you keep your eyes on Deacon as you say, “Then let’s catch a serial killer.”

“Oh, he’s got a name now,” a cyber-tech says from one of the desks. “Papers are calling him The Fatherless.”

“Classy,” you murmur.

“Get prepped,” Hicks tells you. “20 Squad, you’re on standby, so stay close.”

“The rest of you stay here to receive your posts,” Carradine announces. “We’ve got five days until he strikes again. So, let’s do this in four.”

In the locker room, you sit in your civvies and prepare for the worst. The door opens as Street walks inside, his steps purposeful and hurried.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says, stopping beside you. “No one will blame you for changing your mind.”

“Street,” you begin.

He squats before you and shakes his head. “No, listen, I understand. Probably better than anyone else here. I know that you still feel that pain, even if it’s the last thing on your mind. Those wounds, the ones that your parents carve into you as a child, they never fully heal, and they reopen easily.”

You nod along with Street. He’s right, you know that. Yet, you know what you have to do.

“We’re glasshouse children, Street, you know that. But I’m done paying for the sins of my father. And I’m not going to let another innocent woman be murdered because of hers.”

Street sighs and leans back against the lockers. “We’re here for you. You better be careful, or I’ll tell Deacon that you have a crush on him.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms to match Street’s stance. “I’m always careful. Don’t confuse your recklessness for my perfection.”

Hondo knocks on the open door, serious and sympathetic, as he says, “Hospital just called. Lia Carter didn’t make it.”

Over the next two days, every moment outside HQ is spent setting up your role as the perfect target. On a walk, you slow by a park and watch a father and daughter play together, letting yourself long for something you don’t remember having. In crowded areas, you identify men who remind you of your dad or are alone and steer around them, giving yourself a wide berth. You avoid talking about your family, even inviting a friend to dinner just so someone asks how everyone is. No matter where you go, you keep your guard up with your gun within reach. You’re living like someone is watching your every move because you want them to be.

The most important thing you do requires help. With a picture stowed in your backpack, courtesy of the forensic team, you return home at the end of the second day. Carefully, you hide the picture in a book, then make dinner and try to forget it. When you settle in with the book for the night, you “accidentally” find the picture. The ink shows you and your father, cheek-to-cheek and smiling, and you stare at it until it blurs. Then, you shove it back in the book and throw it against the wall. Dropping your head into your hands, you feel like you’re being watched, and if the picture hadn’t affected you more than you anticipated, you might be scared by that.

Sitting alone in a rundown diner, you tap a sugar packet against your cup. It’s been five days since Lia Carter was attacked, and if you aren’t approached by The Fatherless tonight, he’ll kill another woman. You shift as if you can feel the picture of your dad in your pocket. It’s halfway out, so anyone who approaches your table can see it, yet another piece of bait to get yourself on a serial killer’s radar. You wish he could see it so no one else has to see him.

“Evening,” a man greets as he slides onto a barstool directly to your right.

You look over your shoulder, and when the man’s eyes drop to the picture, you fight down a smile. A killer sits beside you, his complete attention on you, and you’re exactly where you wanted to be.

“Good evening,” you reply lightly.

“Young love, huh?” he asks, gesturing with his chin to the young pregnant couple sharing a milkshake at the other side of the diner. “I bet they’ll be fun parents.”

You laugh humorlessly and look down at your sugar packet as you murmur, “I wouldn’t know what that looks like.”

He frowns sympathetically and offers, “Let me get you another drink?”

Though you want to agree and speed through this part, you remain hesitant, a faux vigilance. The Fatherless leaves plenty of room between you, making it feel like you’re in charge.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he says to the waitress. When you look at him again, he smiles and shrugs. “It looks good.”

“It is good,” you reply, letting your eyes drift back to the happy couple.

“I used to imagine that my parents looked like that,” he muses. “But then I remember my dad was a deadbeat who left before I started preschool.”

“Now that I can understand.” You nod as you look at your empty cup.

“Ready for that drink?” he guesses.

You smile sheepishly, and he turns to order another drink before he slides off the barstool and sits on the other side of your booth.

“Your dad leave too?” he inquires, treating it like another mundane subject.

He asks open-ended questions but feeds you information he shouldn’t even know. You know what he’s doing, and you will play his game for as long as it takes.

“Yeah. I mean, in hindsight, I guess I should’ve seen it coming,” you answer.

“You were older?”

As you continue answering his questions, talking more and touching your drink less, you notice his eyes keep flitting to your cup. There was no evidence of him drugging the previous victims, so he must be pulling out all of the stops for you, his first target who defends herself and others for a living.

“So, you go hang out by yourself when you’re feeling like this?” The Fatherless asks.

“Depends on the day,” you say. “And the feeling.”

“I used to go sit on one of the bridges over the Los Angeles River and just stare into it.”

“That helped?”

“Almost every time. Something about the concrete lining on what should have been natural just… put everything into perspective, I suppose.”

“Typically, I try to escape thoughts of my dad,” you point out with a smile.

“And staring into murky water doesn’t help with that?” he challenges.

“That’s fair. I think I’d like to see it, give it a try.”

“We aren’t far from a viaduct.”

“I didn’t drive,” you complain. “The one time I decide to walk to clear my head.”

“I’ve got a car. If you’re comfortable with that.”

You pretend to deliberate his offer, then smile and stand. He leaves some cash on the table – cheap tipper, you think – and then leads you to a nondescript black Mustang. As he walks to the driver’s side, you slow and memorize the license plate.

“You know, one thing I never considered before is how lucky I am that I don’t have to worry about who will walk me down the aisle,” he says as he opens the door. “I guess your daddy issues are why you go for Sergeant Salt ‘n’ Pepper, though, huh?”

You don’t expect the comment, and it makes you stop. How The Fatherless managed to find the one thing you haven’t thought about for years, your wedding day, and how strange it might be without a father figure confuses you. More, the fact that he brought Deacon into this causes you to freeze.

“C’mon,” he urges, likely sensing your sudden discomfort.

“Sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “Got lost there for a second, didn’t I?”

As you get into the car, you know you’re doing the right thing but are admittedly scared now. If he knows that much about your life presently, who knows how much information he has on your childhood or family. He talks during the short drive to the viaduct, and you force yourself to keep the conversation going.

It’s weird. Your dad is who he is; you’ve moved on from the pain and heartbreak he put you through, and that’s what this guy is supposed to care about. But, because of The Fatherless, you’re thinking about something else. Is it possible that everything that exists or could exist between you and Deacon is just because of that?

Standing on a viaduct over the Los Angeles River, The Fatherless stands too close to you. He reaches for a weapon, but you’re too slow, not even raising your hand before there’s a gun in your face. Defenseless, you stand still as an engine rumbles before footsteps pound against the pavement.

“LAPD SWAT, drop the weapon!” Hondo yells.

“You’re surrounded, man,” Luca adds. “It’s over.”

“Put the gun down and step back!” Hondo repeats.

You stare into his eyes, looking past the gun. The moment he begins to lower his arm, Luca and Street rush forward and detain him before passing him off to another officer. With the police lights reflecting off the water below you, you look to your team as you fight to keep your emotions inside.

“That was the stupidest, most reckless act of incompetence I have ever seen!” Hondo yells, taking a heated step toward you.

Street raises his arm quickly, slapping his hand against Hondo’s chest. When Hondo stops, Street shakes his head but keeps his eyes on you. He can tell there’s something else wrong, more than you not defending yourself. You’re surprised, however, when someone else seems to notice it.

Deacon walks toward you, where you stand at the edge of the concrete platform. Stopping several steps back, Deacon doesn’t touch you but waits for you to do something. Down the bridge from you, the surveillance team that was watching and listening from the moment you stepped into the diner tells Hicks, Hondo, Luca, and Street what The Fatherless said to you.

When they hear that he brought someone you care about now into the conversation, they look back to you and Deacon. Hondo sighs while Luca runs his fingers through his hair, and Street murmurs, “No,” under his breath.

“I told Street I didn’t want the daughters of Los Angeles to pay for the sins of our fathers,” you begin. “But we can’t escape it. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to forgive him and move on, I’m still broken inside because of what he did.”

“You’re not broken,” Deacon insists.

“Then why do I look for love everywhere but only find it where I can’t have it?!” you ask, your voice rising as you step back.

Deacon raises his hands as you near the edge of the overpass. Your team moves forward, too, but everything else slows down.

“He was right, Deacon,” you murmur.

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Yes, he was! I love things that I can’t have because one of the few times I loved something with my entire heart, my dad shattered it.”

“Look where you are now,” Deacon demands, his arms still out toward you. “Despite that pain, in spite of everything he did to you, you are here. You have a career you love, a team that loves you like family, a-“

“Please stop saying love,” you interrupt.

“We love you,” Deacon finishes. “And we don’t care about what your dad did or didn’t do because we love you, scars and all."

You wipe a stray tear from your jaw, and Deacon takes another step toward you.

“I love you,” he whispers. “Differently than I’ve ever loved anything before.”

Your breath catches, but Deacon would never lie to you. You sniff and ask, “So, you don’t think I’m attracted to you just because of my daddy issues?”

Deacon smiles at your question, shakes his head, and offers his hand. You place your hand in his, grateful for the warmth of his glove, and then he pulls you against his chest and hugs you tightly. Safe in his arms, you let yourself cry, barely registering his movements as he carefully directs you away from the viaduct.

A moment later, more arms wrap around you as your team joins in your group hug. You laugh through the tears, loving each one for different reasons. And, just as you love them, they love you. This is your family, and this kind of love transcends generational curses and past traumas. You’re all different people, shaped by your pains and experiences, but you fit together. The people in this hug are your family: perfect pieces held together by love.

As Deacon follows you into your home, you know he will offer to stay, but you have something you’ve needed to say for a long time.

“I love you, too,” you admit. “I’m in love with you, and I have been for years.”

Deacon smiles as he offers his hand again; you take it, willing to go anywhere with him. He kisses your forehead and then leads you to the kitchen. The possibilities are endless now that your feelings are out in the open. You can do anything, be anything with Deacon.

For tonight, though, you want to sit with him and remember that you’re loved, and you can love as hard as you want because the sins of your father are not your responsibility nor a weight you must bear. Who you are now is who Deacon loves, and that’s exactly what you want to be.

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (02/10)

The Contract

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: there is no turning back now and now you and Aemond set the rules and conditions to start the whole farce.

word count: 4.6k

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!🥳

I thought this would be a very nice way to wish happy new year to all of you beautiful people who support me and like what I write, you don't know how much that means to me🥺

thank you for so much support and for so much love, I have loved being here and I definitely plan to stay for longer, seeing how that love evolves and my place here as a writer🥰 so enjoy a lot this new chapter that I really hope you like it a lot❤

many blessings to all of you, my best wishes for your lives in this 2024, I love you all so much!😊❤

enjoy!

It's the first thing you see after turning off the alarm and you curiously enter to read the recent messages from an unknown number, not having the slightest idea of who it might be.

But you let out a long sigh of frustration when you read them and see that it's Aemond, who you don't understand how the fuck he got your number. Of course, it shouldn't have been hard for him, just a few questions and anyone can tell him what he wants to know.

And knowing that you have a long day ahead of you today, you already feel the pressure all over your body when you haven't even left your bed, where you also feel the frustration and all this uncertainty that you thought you had already overcome, but no.

You barely accepted yesterday and suddenly putting the plan into action from one day to the next, it's too much. But without really having a choice, you reluctantly force yourself to get up and start getting ready.

After an hour, you leave your house with the nagging feeling of carrying a weight on your shoulders to school. And all the way there, not even the music in your ears can make your mind calm down for a moment.

Knowing very soon that your whole social life will be a mess and you will no longer be invisible, since after all Aemond was right in that respect, causes you even more uneasiness and also nervousness because you are going to pretend to be the girlfriend of the most popular guy in school.

And once the bus makes its stop, you soon enter the halls of the bustling school. And knowing that a certain silver-haired guy is waiting for you right now, every heavy step you take towards the schoolyard echoes loudly in your ears, increasing your nervousness and anxiety.

You're even tempted to back up and tell him to forget it, but you resist and keep moving forward.

As you walk through the huge doors of the backyard, it's only a matter of time before you make out the figure of Aemond sitting at the same table as yesterday in the distance. Your heart skips a beat and you feel more nervous, but gathering your courage and taking a long breath, you advance towards him, ready but with uncertain steps.

Every step seems heavy, as if you are walking into the unknown and you try to hide the nerves in your gaze, especially when Aemond notices your presence. He watches you and slowly turns to you, a subtle smile on his lips.

Again there is that feeling of telling him to forget it, to find someone else, that you can't do this. But... your mind stops you and screams at you not to be silly, that at the end of it all there will be a reward, a very good reward that getting it by faking a relationship with him, is nothing.

And it's definitely worth it.

So resigned, you reach out to him.

"Hey," he says to you without wiping off his little smile, as you take a seat in front of him and he waits for you to finish settling in, "So you've come."

"Don't bother me," you tell him without humor, definitely contrasting his mood to yours.

"Now what did I do?"

"That," you point to his face, "You're enjoying this, seeing that I haven't backed out."

"Oh, please, I actually thought you wouldn't come and tell me to fuck off after you thought better of it," he justifies himself.

"Yeah? Well, nothing a free admission to your dream college won't do," you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, though implicitly admitting your reasons, "And it's actually not like I like skipping classes, so could we get this started?"

Aemond exhales long, averting his gaze from yours for a moment before returning to watching you.

"You know you'll have to be charming and act like you're completely in love with me in public, right?" he poses, expectantly.

"Yes, I know... in public," you point out to him, "Just now no one knows we're 'dating' genius," you add, underlining the falsity of the situation.

He places a small, amused, smirk on his lips.

"Yet."

He adds with a slightly defiant tone and you roll your eyes.

"Don't get too excited either."

"Are you not?"

"Oh yeah, I can't handle the excitement," you feign in a high-pitched, ironic voice, making exaggerated hand gestures.

Aemond lets out a short but genuine laugh at your gesture. He leans back slightly, his eye revealing a mischievous glint as he watches you.

"Glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor in this," he says with his tone changing slightly to a more relaxed one.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" you reply, accepting his change of mood, but still maintaining a certain emotional distance.

You figure it's just a matter of the two of you getting more into trust, and if you're going to do this with him, you're definitely going to do your part. But for now, this is still a little awkward and unexpected. And the sooner you do this, the better it will be for you.

So you shift your focus and lean forward slightly with a more serious expression on your face.

"So let's get started?"

"Well, making a contract will take up a lot of our time, so I thought it would be easier to just say and agree between us-

"It will be easier this way, to write down and establish the rules and the conditions we want to do during all this, just to have everything clear and not miss anything, Aemond," you interrupt him, taking out a notebook and a pen to start writing.

"Okay, fine," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"So?" you watch him expectantly with the blank sheet of paper in front of you and your pen in hand, "What do you suggest first?"

"Well... first we need to know when this will all end," he begins to say, adopting a relaxed but firm stance, "And I would say that it may end when it is no longer necessary for both of you to continue pretending. But I think it's a better idea for us to last until graduation."

He proposes, looking at you intently, waiting for your reaction and you can't help but be a little surprised to hear that.

"Until graduation?" you repeat and he nods, "But you really want to do this for almost five months?"

"I know it's a long time, but that time can be beneficial for both of us," he explains, "That's enough time to give our relationship credibility and authenticity and it's also enough time to handle any problems that arise."

He says and you nod cautiously, evaluating his words.

"But if you disagree, tell me," he hurries to say.

His calm tone and your reasons contrast with the uncertainty and indecision you feel. And the two of you have barely started.

Five months is such a compromising situation and it generates some concern, because you know you will face so many things you still have no idea about and every day it could become more complicated to maintain the farce.

"I guess it's okay," you cautiously admit, trying to see the big picture, "But I feel like it's still a long time. But also reducing that time might not be enough," you agree.

"Yes but I'm sure we can handle it. And don't worry, if at some point we feel it's too much or we don't have enough reason to keep pretending anymore, we can talk iand end it."

You remain pondering, considering his words and after a few seconds you nod in agreement, and write it down as the first point on the sheet. But this alone is the first piece of a much more complicated puzzle.

1. Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

And Aemond also brings up the next point of the contract, expressing his ideas with quiet but evident assurance.

"Now, second..." he begins, "As for behavior in public, we should genuinely show affection in the hallways, cafeteria, and at any school activity and event. In a relationship people don't take their hands off each other, so we should smile at each other, hug each other, make subtle gestures, hold hands-

"Don't say kissing, please," you interrupt him, pleading, taking him by surprise.

"Of course, Y/N," he tells you instantly, incredulous, "Obviously we'll have to kiss."

As if having to act completely in love with him and be every moment touching him isn't enough. But the idea of kissing seems a bit much to you.

"I agree about showing affection and all that, but that kissing thing might be awkward and... weird," you say, trying to be sincere but not seeming completely closed off to the idea.

Aemond looks at you incredulously.

"So you don't want us to kiss?"

"I don't think it's necessary, honestly."

"Are you crazy? How are we supposed to pretend if we're not going to kiss? No one's going to believe us if we don't kiss and that's what will literally make the whole relationship believable," he insists, visibly concerned.

"Yeah, I get that it might seem necessary, but...at least I don't want to be having to kiss you every single time."

"You don't want to kiss me?" he asks you, visibly surprised, confused and... maybe a little hurt?

You watch him silently for a moment not understanding his reaction and then watch him with a small amused smile.

"I'm not one of your fans, Targaryen."

"Oh come on, everyone wants to kiss me," he says confused and incredulous, proving his point.

"Even the guys?"

"Well... yeah, I don't know, maybe some of them," he says with a shrug.

"Seven Hells," you mutter, averting your gaze for a moment, "I-I really don't want to do that," you say, speaking seriously and then you let out a sigh, "But you're right that no one's going to believe us-

"Obviously. I always have," he is quick to say.

"So my proposal is this... we'll kiss, yes, but only when it's extremely necessary, and when I say extremely necessary I mean extremely necessary."

You watch him intently, keeping yourself willing with your proposal, waiting for his opinion, which judging by his face, he doesn't quite agree with.

"And what would those extremely necessary moments be exactly?" he inquires, attentive and interested, also still looking slightly worried.

"In the cafeteria or in the hallways when everyone is obviously looking at us and we're attracting attention. Just don't abuse it."

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Well, let's limit them to extremely necessary moments," he finally says resignedly and you quickly note the second point.

2. Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

"But then that second point is also going to apply to the parties you'll be going to with me and my lacrosse games you'll be going to."

You quickly raise your gaze to him.

"What?"

"Yes," he nods, "Going to the parties together will also lend credibility to the relationship and obviously we have to be very close to each other. And it's the same in my games, you must go to support and encourage me, like any girlfriend in love with her boyfriend would."

Aemond's words provoke an instant reaction in you, that confusing you and taking you by surprise.

"But I don't go to parties."

"Now you will," he says with a calm expression, reaching out his hand and taking the pen and your notebook.

"But-

He is already writing in a section further down the sheet which he lists as; 'additional conditions'.

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

"Aemond, I'm not a big fan of parties, really," you insist, "You'll have a bad time if you take me with you and I'll probably ruin everything."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you the trick to having a good time and change that mentality you have. Besides I won't take you to every party, just a few," he assures you, "All while keeping up appearances," he hands you back your notebook and pen, "With me you'll never get bored, I promise," he says with a small smile on his lips.

You let out a sigh, placing the notebook back in front of you, still undecided.

"Yes? Well, we'll see about that. I warned you though."

He lets out a soft little laugh.

"Come on Y/N, you can't be that bad."

"I assure you I can be."

"And so what do you do for fun?" he asks you, keeping his smile, curiosity evident in his gaze.

And there it is, the question that totally describes your personality and that in fact you don't like to answer to just anyone, because then they call you boring. But you can't lie to Aemond, he is astute enough and would notice.

So you decide to be honest.

"I like to read," you reply, lowering your gaze and feeling slightly embarrassed, "And I love going to the movies or watching movies and shows at home, either one is totally fine with me. Oh... and... hm... I also like ice skating, although I don't do that as often but... it's something I like too."

And even though it's only a bit of the world of things you like, Aemond listens to you attentively with a soft expression, saying nothing afterwards, as if he's processing every word you've said, while you only feel more embarrassed by the silence.

You know there's nothing wrong with it but it always made you insecure to share your hobbies, mostly because you know that many girls your age enjoy their teenage years going out with friends to parties and getting drunk.

That didn't and doesn't appeal to you now. You have long been more comfortable with the idea of staying home or going out somewhere else instead of going to parties.

It's not as if you don't attend or avoid every social event, yes you can attend and have a good time depending on who you are with and where, but not as often as every weekend.

However, you understand and recognize the logic behind Aemond's suggestion and that is that attending parties, is essential. And just as he is about to finally speak, you do so first.

"I know they are simple things and are not very exciting for most people. I also know they can be very boring but for me... that's what I like," you shyly confess.

"Hm," he says, taking a small moment, watching you softly, only causing you even more embarrassment, "Well, that's not what I was going to say," he says, catching your attention, "Sometimes it is the simple things that mean the most to everyone and, being honest... I find them interesting," he adds, trying to evaporate any awkwardness and embarrassment you might feel.

You raise your gaze, meeting his bright blue eye watching you softly and with his gaze full of genuine understanding, along with that hint of curiosity. And that gets your attention too.

He's not judging you. And even though it's not something he would do or at least hasn't tried to do yet, he's not judging you for it and you see that genuine interest in his gaze.

"Tell you what, for every party you go to with me, I'll read one of your favorite books or a movie or shows you want me to watch," he says, picking up the notebook and pen again.

"What?" you look at him confused, unable to help but smile in bewilderment, "Are you serious?"

"You must set your own conditions too," he states as he writes, "I already dragged you into my world, so now you're dragging me into yours," he looks up at you, "What do you think? Is it a fair exchange or not?"

His proposal takes you by surprise and also confuses you a little, however, the small smile remains on your face.

The genuine expression of openness on his face and the determination with which he wrote definitely makes you feel more comfortable. His willingness to immerse himself in your interests was not something you had agreed upon from the beginning, nor is it something extremely necessary to fake a relationship.

But it's for the simple reason that you both feel comfortable if you're going to pretend for almost five months and it seems like a nice gesture from him to include it, something you honestly didn't expect from him.

And when he gives you back your notebook, you see the new rule under 'additional conditions'.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

"Yes," you nod, "Sounds like a fair deal to me."

Aemond smiles, pleased with your answer and also seeing the expression on your face.

"Great. We'll see if I discover something new I like. And you too..." he points at you with his index finger, "You won't regret it after you have a great time at my parties," he says enthusiastically, with a sort of complicity in his tone.

"Well, we'll see if you manage to impress me."

And right there, the two of you exchange complicit glances, Aemond having that little smile on his lips while you don't understand this strange new alliance the two of you are building.

But even though you didn't expect it, it's definitely to your liking.

"Now, third..." you point to the notebook with your pen, "Reinforcing the second rule, public appearance," you say, observing him, "We must act as a committed and attentive couple to each other at school and to these parties you want us to go to."

Aemond nods determinedly, thoughtfully.

"Yes, commitment at all times," he states seriously.

"So, that also means that neither of us can be with other people for the duration of all this, not even secretly," you add, making the point clear.

"And you want to write that as a rule too? It's obvious that neither of us should-

"I'll write it as the fourth rule, just to be clear about everything as I told you."

"Oh, fine."

3. Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

4. No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

"Oh and also..." says Aemond, reminding, "Since we're at that point, on additional conditions write that we should both upload photos and videos together on our social media. It's another way to lend credibility to our relationship."

"Photos and videos together on our social media," you repeat, looking at the notebook.

And this catches Aemond's attention.

"Don't tell me you don't use your social media," he says beginning to sound alert and concerned.

"No, no, I-I mean, yes," you hasten to say, "It's just... I don't know, I most likely don't use them as often as you do, besided I have very few followers."

"Don't worry, whatever followers you have are fine. Besides, I'm sure they'll increase when I upload my first photo with you."

You roll your eyes with an amused smile.

"Okay, Mr. Popularity."

"And speaking of that, hand me your Instagram and all your networks," he says instantly, grabbing his cell phone from his front pocket, "We better have that all figured out now."

Obviously Aemond's accounts had to be public while you maintain your privacy, with barely thirteen hundred followers while he has almost the entire school following him and probably from other schools as well.

In fact, your numbers compared to his are embarrassing. But you never really had the interest of having more followers on Instagram or more friends on Facebook, Snapchat is the same and apparently that doesn't matter to Aemond.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

"And well, I also think another very important thing is to maintain privacy," you suggest, lifting your gaze to watch him and Aemond gives you a confused look.

"Do you really want to write that down too? It's obvious we can't tell anyone-

"Let me enjoy this, Aemond. It's actually fun and I want to write it all down. So act serious," you ask.

He lets out a choked laugh.

"Well, yes, we must be discreet, no one must know that all this is false, only we know the truth and we must keep it that way," he says and you excitedly write it down.

"We mustn't involve our families in this either," you add, watching him intently, "But that will be difficult because your siblings are here," you grimace.

"We can keep up the farse with them for a while too, I'll convince them not to say anything to my mother or the rest of my family. And once everyone here at school is convinced enough, I'll tell the truth only to them," he say sure and confident, solving the problem.

"And you're sure you'll manage to keep them that way?"

"Yeah," he says with a shrug, "They're my siblings. I know how it works with each one."

5. Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot..." Aemond says as he points to what is already written, "You must also go on each year's trip to Dragonstone with me. That's another additional condition of mine."

"What?" you inquire again, surprised and confused.

"Yes, the trip to Dragonstone," he affirms.

Oh God, the trip to Dragonstone.

Dragonstone is an island not far from King's Landing, where there is an ancient castle with a lot of history but has been modernized with the same name and is open to every visitor.

The school makes an annual trip for educational purposes as the castle has relics and structuring from thousands of years ago. You have seen pictures and videos where everything looks really beautiful, ancestral and almost royalty.

In addition the castle offers other activities, such as rides on its huge luxury yachts, surfing, diving and swimming lessons.

You always had the spirit to go but have always known that the trip is anything but educational. You've heard stories that happen with the students, such as getting drunk, partying on the yachts, hot tubs and obviously you've heard stories of who slept with whom.

Even the most reserved get to have fun and it's not something you're interested in. You know you don't fit in that environment, especially since everyone has to share a room and you're sure that if you go, you'll have to share a room with girls with different tastes and perspectives than yours. They probably won't even let you sleep.

"Come on Y/N, you've never been to Dragonstone?" asks Aemond incredulously, noting the grimace on your face for wanting you to go there with him.

"Well, yeah I've wanted to go but... I-I, I don't know, I've heard that instead of learning about the place, everyone goes to having fun, they party, they get drunk and I-I don't...

"And what do you expect us to do in a modern castle on the shore of the beach with yachts and hot tubs?" he inquires again, expectantly, "The trip is planned for the middle of the last month of these five months and you can't let me go alone with the things that go on in that place."

You make your grimace more visible, revealing your clear indecision. And even though you and Aemond have been at odds lately over the matter of tastes, he still places a soft smile in your direction, understanding that you are not like him and prefer to do other things.

"Look, you don't have to go to the parties and drink if you don't want to," he starts to tell you, "But we can at least go to one of the parties on the yachts and then do the activities they offer on site, swimming, diving and all that," he proposes, "We'll take pictures, tour the castle and we'll both be equally satisfied."

You ponder for a moment, considering his proposal. You know you only have to get your father's signature on the permit to be able to go to the island and it's not like you've gone before so... you can do it now.

"Well, I guess that's fine," you nod, "But really promise you won't leave me alone and we'll take the time to do other activities that aren't related to partying on yachts and hot tubs."

"Please, we'll go as a couple, so of course I won't leave you alone. You'll be stuck with me," he assures you, "And I also promise you that we'll do other activities, not just the parties."

"And..." you start to say, in a serious, warning tone, "Also promise you'll pick me up every morning to bring me to school. That's another one of my additional conditions. The bus isn't very comfortable anymore."

He nods, shrugging, completely unconcerned.

"Sure, it's no problem. Besides it will make the relationship more credible," he says softly.

Despite your doubts, you feel a sense of relief at seeing and acknowledging his commitment. And you also feel more confident knowing that you have his support in all of this, even in your conditions. So you write down the two new additional conditions.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

At the end you both sign the sheet, looking honestly ridiculous but being funny, then both seal the whole contract by shaking hands.

"So when do we start all this?" you ask him, putting away your notebook and pen.

"I say tomorrow," he gives you a look of understanding, "But we need to talk now during classes in the hallways or in the cafeteria, so that when they see us together tomorrow, it won't be so surprising and will seem more believable."

You give him an unsure look.

"I think it will still be very surprising, Aemond."

"It doesn't matter, we just have to start showing together today, just talking. But tomorrow is when we really start."

And just as he says those words, with that determination, you feel again those nerves in your lower abdomen and that insecurity. But at least you still have all day today to mentally prepare yourself, and you're grateful for that.

"And before I forget this too..." he says again, "I need you to send me all your academic information to work on your college application now," he tells you seriously and you watch him completely attentively, "The five months will go by fast and during that time college applications will start. So it's best to get it all in now."

At this, you feel your heart start to beat fast and you don't know why, you guess because it's a very important issue for you. And more than anything else it's the reason you agreed to do this with him.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," you say softly, "I-I'll email it all to you."

He smiles softly in your direction.

"Very well," he nods at you, "I'll text you my email."

Despite your slight doubts about whatever is going to happen next, the idea of starting a fake relationship leaving you with a knot in your stomach and feeling your emotions mixed, you know this will all be worth a try.

So you pick up your phone and you start to write in an email all your personal and academic information. While at the same time all is said and done and the fake relationship contract is over.

THE CONTRACT

Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

ADDITIONAL CONDITIONS

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

general taglist

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff

[potatoplace]

Get Cozy Since We're Both Lonely

Welcome To The Family: Chapter 1 | series masterlist

chapter 2 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Nesta x Reader

Story Summary: You lost your family in the attack on Velaris by Hybern. Nesta lost her humanity and gained a tremendous amount of trauma. Together you find a grand romance between yourselves, and an unwavering commitment to help each other.

Warnings: smut-ish, smut-lite maybe? Nothing too graphic, but a looot of kissing, very horny lol

Words: ~7k

Author's Note: oh my goooood I love this SO MUUUCH SAPPHIC NESTA YES PLEASE THANK YOU BRAIN. I would very much like to have Nesta as my wifey, thank you very much. I hope you all like this! A very different vibe than what I've been writing recently lol. But yesss enjoy my sweet Nesta being treated like the lovely person that she is! (Also this ended up sooo much longer than I expected) - oh and series name is a Watsky song, and the chapter title name is lyrics from it 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

She was beautiful.

Gorgeous.

Ethereal.

A goddess brought before you, rendered into flesh, perusing the stacks of your bookstore nearly every day.

The eldest sister of your High Lady had utterly captivated you from the moment you had met her, her presence never failing to draw your eyes.

She was breathtaking, yes, but it was everything about her that kept your attention. Her tastes in literature, her coffee order - two shots of espresso poured over ice - the way she dressed, how she always had her hair pulled up, her laugh, her voice.

Each new thing you learned about her, saw in her stunning blue gray eyes made you more interested in Nesta, filling your thoughts with her.

Never before had you felt infatuated with another female, though you had felt an attraction towards some.

But Nesta?

Your thoughts revolved around her visits to your bookstore, each day spent hoping that she would walk in.

It had only been a few months since you had first met Nesta, and only a few months before that since you had lost your family.

The attack on Velaris had stolen your family from you, leaving you in charge of the bookstore and coffee shop that your family had so happily run for generations.

And now it was just you.

Meeting Nesta had been the first good thing to happen to you since that fateful day, her husky voice asking if you carried any romance novels.

From those words alone, you were a goner.

An instant blush had covered your face as you led her over to said section, reluctantly leaving her to browse the titles you carried.

You wanted to know what titles interested her.

Romance had been your own favorite genre since you had been a teenager, only a decade ago. Not what your family had teased you about them being - primarily sex with no plot. No, you preferred soft writing, filled with the gentle building of feelings and, yes, occasionally ending with a few scenes of smut. But the buildup was what you preferred, and the faithful love that the characters had built between them.

And to your absolute delight, Nesta was the same. She even binge read your favorite series, Enchanted, within a week, returning every day to pick up the next book.

Each day, you felt as though her fingers brushed against yours for slightly longer, lingering as she took her receipt.

But you weren't brave enough to ask her if she felt the same overwhelming attraction and interest that you held for her. You knew that there were some fae who enjoyed the company of the same sex, but Nesta had once been a human, and you weren't sure of how accepting they were.

So you stayed quiet, drinking in every second of her presence, giving her free refills of coffee when she chose to stay and read in one of the cozy armchairs you had in front of the fireplace.

Every day you saw her kept your mind off the gaping void in your chest, filling you with warmth. The only other thing that came close to the same effect as Nesta had was the novels that had become your life. Every new book that passed into your store caught your attention, giving you something to fill your mind with.

Today has been hard. Eight months since your family had been slaughtered, and the sky was weeping with you. Hardly any customers had entered your building, for which you were thankful. Your eyes were blurry more often than they weren't, tears slipping down your face, so similarly to the rain sliding down the windows.

Rarely did you drink, but you found yourself at Rita's that night, looking for something to soothe your pain in a way that written words could not. Two vodka cranberries later, and the noise of the bar had become a pleasant thing, your head bobbing to the music.

Someone slid onto the stool next to you. "I'll have a gin and tonic, please," the familiar, rich voice said from your left.

A turn of your head confirmed that it was Nesta who had sat next to you, dressed in a high necked, long sleeved dark purple dress. Your could just see her black heeled boots, hooked on the bar of the stool.

As usual, she looked fantastic. Her hair was braided and pinned into a crown around her head, her eyes sparkling with a bit of pale lavender eyeshadow.

"Hello, Y/N. I've never seen you in here before," Nesta said once she had noticed your eyes on her.

"Ah, I uhm... I don't go out too often, anymore," you replied, your voice a bit shaky. "Do you come here often?"

"Every now and then, when I don't feel like spending my evenings in solitude," Nesta explained, the hints of a smile starting to show. "And I should feel lucky, then, that I happened to be here the same night you decided to come out."

"Oh?" You asked, a bit of heat rising to your cheeks. "Have you been hoping to see me here?"

The hints had turned to a full blown grin, a stunning sight on her.

You would do anything to see it again.

"As a matter of fact, I have. I wanted to ask you about something," Nesta said, a hint of... heat? In her voice.

You bit your lip. "And?"

Nesta's eyes flicked away from yours briefly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Your heartbeat quickened, more blood coming to your cheeks. Before her? You had hoped. After her? You knew. "I do."

Nesta's eyes crinkled, warmth flooding them. "That's funny, I do too." The bartender set Nesta's drink in front of her, and she took a long sip. "I wasn't sure about it for a while, but I think I'm convinced now."

"Really? What changed?" You asked, slightly breathless, both from anticipation and having drank more than you had in couple of months.

Nesta's soft laugh had you melting, your body leaning in her direction, breathing in a bit of her snow and fire scent - quite possibly more intoxicating than the drinks you'd had.

"You. I can't- I have never wanted to be around someone, or wanted someone as much as I want you," Nesta breathed, blush coloring her cheeks as she stared into your eyes, her confession hanging between the two of you.

A smile spread across your lips. "That's good, perfect, actually. I feel the same, Nesta," you admitted, drinking in the way her eyes lit up at your words.

"I'm glad to hear that we're in agreement," Nesta said, finishing the rest of her drink before standing. "Dance with me?" She asked, holding out one of her elegant hands for you to take.

You did in a heartbeat, savoring the warmth of her hand in yours.

You were an awful dancer, but with Nesta next to you, those soft laughs and shining eyes directed at you, you didn't mind embarrassing yourself a bit. Not when she kept pulling you in close, your chests pressed together, lips hovering an inch apart as you gazed up at her, your eyes locked together.

The night passed in a blur of dancing and stumbling back to your apartment, arms locked tightly together in the cool May night. Into your bookstore, past the coffee bar, bookshelves, up the stairs and into your apartment.

Somehow you ended up on the couch, both of you barefooted, hands hovering over each other - afraid to make first contact.

"I... I've never... Done this," Nesta gestured between you. "Before."

You could hear the nerves in her voice now that you were alone together, in the quiet of your living room.

"I haven't either," you admitted with a shy smile. "But it... Are you okay?"

Nesta's lips tilted up. "I'm okay. Just... a tad nervous," she whispered.

Your nose scrunched when your smile widened. "I am too. We can be nervous together," you giggled, happy to see Nesta's expression matching your own. You let your hands touch her, one resting on her right shoulder, the other falling to her left arm, a thumb rubbing over the soft fabric of her dress. Nesta's eyes flicked down before returning to your face, a light blush crawling over her cheeks.

She let her own arms fall over your shoulders, hands toying with the curls of your hair, nails brushing gently against your scalp. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the sensation sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

When they opened again, Nesta's face was closer, her eyes darting down to your lips.

You took the plunge, bringing your lips to hers. Soft, plush, exactly how you'd imagined they would feel. It was a kiss just like those you had read about, gentle and tender, full of hope and longing. You let your arms encircle Nesta as she pulled your closer, one of her hands gently fisted in your hair and the other pressing against your back.

When you parted, it was just barely, your lips hovering next to each other as you breathed in the same air, cheeks flushed as your eyes met.

"I think... Being nervous together is a good idea," Nesta breathed, a giggle leaving your lips.

"I agree." You kissed her again, this one just as sweet but firmer, more sure. Your mouths fit perfectly together, moving in tandem without a thought, only pulling away to reposition. Nesta gently pulled you over her lap, your legs straddling hers, lips returning to yours as soon as you were settled, chests pressed together. Her hands returned to your hair, keeping you close as your own cradled the back of her head.

You couldn't get enough of her, get close enough to her. And it seemed as though she was in the same state, keeping you pulled into her even when you parted for breath.

It was when one of her hands snaked underneath your shirt, running up the line of your spine that you let out a soft gasp, hand clutching at her shoulder. Your cheeks somehow colored further, but Nesta seemed delighted by the noise. Her fingers feathered over your spine again, eyes drinking in the way yours fluttered from her touch.

"Sensitive?" She asked, her voice deep, needy.

"Mhm." A scrape of her fingernails had your spine arching, pressing you further against her. "Not fair," you mumbled.

"Mm, you'll just have to find my sweet spots, love," Nesta whispered lowly in your ear. She pressed a gentle kiss to it, then a slow trail down your neck, hand continuing its slow path along your spine.

"Is that a challenge?" You asked breathily, tilting your neck to give her better access.

"More like an invitation."

Your heart stuttered. "I'll definitely be taking you up on that," you whispered, a soft moan leaving your lips when Nesta's lips sucked on your neck gently.

Your head dropped to her shoulder, arms tightening around her. You felt like jelly already, and you hadn't even taken your clothes off.

"Which way to the bedroom, Y/N?" Nesta asked once she relinquished your neck, peppering small kisses along it.

"Mm... Behind the couch," you said, distracted by how intoxicating Nesta was proving herself to be.

Nesta chuckled softly into your ear. "Care to show me?"

You pulled away from her slightly, meeting her eyes. Absolutely stunning, and full of lust. You nodded, and managed to pull yourself off of her, albeit reluctantly. In the few seconds it took to lead her into your bedroom, you missed her warmth and gentle touch.

The faelights in your room came to life as you entered, softly illuminating your room.

You were glad you had made your bed this morning.

Nesta's hands on your waist turned you around, pulling you back into her and into a kiss, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

The alcohol still running through your veins made it easy to pull it off of you, leaving your breasts covered in just a bralette, Nesta's fingers quickly running over the fabric.

"You are absolutely stunning," Nesta said softly. "And you'll have to let me know where you got this," she demanded as she tugged on one of the straps with one hand.

"I think you'll like the matching panties then, too," you giggled, pulling her lips to yours.

"Oh really? How about we find out?" Nesta asked, gently pushing you to the bed, a playful fire in her eyes.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you said, letting her push you onto the bed, her body following soon after.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Waking was a slow process, your bed warmer and cozier than you ever remembered it being.

It was only when you registered soft breathing coming from in front of you that you remembered the previous night, a smile coming to your lips.

Nesta.

Your eyes fluttered open, met with the sight of her sleeping in front of you. You felt her arm draped over your side, hand against your back.

You had never felt more comfortable or at peace.

Still, the light filtering in through the curtains told you it was past the time you normally woke to open the bookstore, and you had to slowly pull yourself from Nesta's grasp, much to your dismay.

You would much rather stay here, wrapped up with her forever.

You had just finished washing up and dressing in the bathroom when you heard Nesta moving about. Opening the door, you saw that she had sat up in your bed, sheets pulled to her chest.

"Morning," you said quietly as you left the bathroom, standing between it and the bed, unsure of how to proceed.

"Morning, Y/N," Nesta said, her voice still thick with sleep.

You bit your lip, wishing in that moment that you could read minds. "So... Do..." you paused. "Do you want to do this again?"

Nesta blinked at you a few times, before a small smile slid across her face. "I'd like that," she answered quietly. She almost seemed... Shy.

"How about... tonight?" You asked, delighted when she immediately shook her head yes.

"I'd love that, Y/N. When should I come by?"

"Mm, I normally close the store around six, so you could come by then. Would... Would you like to go to dinner?"

"That sounds lovely, Y/N. Six it is," Nesta confirmed, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

"Perfect, Nesta. I've got to go open the shop, but feel free to bathe if you'd like. I'll see you downstairs," you said, a smile glued to your face as you took in your last look at her before you left the room.

Her hair was still in its style from last night, but strands of it were poking out in some places.

She took your breath away, even when ruffled by sleep.

Opening the store went smoothly, luckily with no customers already waiting outside.

Less than half an hour later, Nesta came downstairs, clothed again in her dress from last night, looking just as beautiful.

"Coffee?" You asked, already making her usual drink for her.

"Yes, please," she sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "I don't think I drank enough water last night," she said with a soft laugh, warmth rushing straight to your heart.

"I'll make sure you do in the future," you said lightly.

Nesta smiled at you, her eyes crinkling. "I'd like that."

You bit your lip as you grinned at her, passing her coffee over, your hand lingering on hers. "I'll see you tonight?"

Nesta nodded. "I'll see you tonight, Y/N."

She left your store, taking one last glance over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.

You were grinning like an idiot, absolutely thrilled with how well last night had went, no matter how unexpected it had been.

Your date that night went perfectly, ending with the two of you snuggled up in bed after a vigorous make out session, both of you too tired to do much more.

The two of you ended up going to dinner the next night.

And the next.

And the next.

Soon enough, you had spent an entire month together, wrapped in each other's presences. You could safely say you were falling for her, or had fallen for her, or that you were madly in love with her already. All of them were true, as your love continued to grow each and every day, with every passing second you spent with her.

One of your favorite memories so far was yesterday, when the two of you had a picnic by the Sidra, a soft blanket spread out beneath you and a basket loaded full of your favorite pastries, cheeses, fruit, and smoked meats, and a bottle of sparkling wine that the two of you shared.

Together you had read the newest romance novel to arrive at your shop, spending the entire day together with the babbling of the river as your chosen music.

Eventually the two of you had packed up and gone back to her apartment, her large bathtub the most recent place you had made love.

Over your perfect first month together, you had noticed... Nesta seemed to be struggling. There were days that she couldn't keep a train of thought, wrapped up in the memories that you assumed were not pleasant ones. Sometimes she snapped at you over the smallest things, normally something to do with noise.

You never blamed her, knowing that she had gained an entirely new set of senses in the past year... But you wanted to love her. To help her. In any way that you could.

So today, after much prodding and gentle suggestion, you were taking Nesta to the office your own therapist worked at.

Not to your therapist, of course, but to one of the many other trusted trauma mind healers that Velaris had.

"You said I can leave if I want, right?" Nesta asked, her voice a bit shaky.

"Of course. The first session is normally pretty light, mainly getting your back story and what you'd like to work on. And their rooms have silencing wards on them so no one else will hear anything. And the files they keep are spelled so only your therapist can read them unless you give permission. Not even the High Lord."

You knew you were overexplaining, but it had been the only way so far to talk Nesta into getting some kind of help, along with your offered bribe of massages after every session she did. And she had been nervous about her brother in law possibly accessing the files... You weren't entirely certain on their relationship, but on the few nights you hadn't had dinner together, she had gone to her family dinners. And those nights, she tended to come to your apartment in an off mood, like the confidence had been squished out of her.

So you made certain she knew any information she gave her healer would be safe, unable to be accessed unless she allowed it.

Nesta sighed, but let you lead her into the office anyways. "I want lots of cuddling, too," she whispered as the pair of you approached the receptionist's counter.

"Whatever you want, cutie," you agreed, giving her a peck on the cheek. "We're here for an appointment, for Nesta," you said to the receptionist, squeezing Nesta's hand back when she gripped yours tighter.

"Alright, I'll let your healer know," the female behind the counter said, and gestured towards the sitting area. "Go ahead and take a seat, she'll be out for you soon."

"Thank you," you said, leading Nesta over to a couch and wrapping an arm around her. "I'm so proud of you, Nes. Really, it's hard to start this stuff... It took me a long time to get myself in."

A light blush dusted Nesta's cheeks at your words, but she didn't fight them. "Thank you, love. I'm... I'm glad you convinced me..." she whispered, her voice still filled with nerves.

A door swung open, revealing a middle aged high fae female. "Nesta?"

You gave her a big smile before urging her to get up, blowing her a kiss before she disappeared behind the door.

The hour passed by slowly, each minute lightening the worry in your heart. You had been a bit worried about Nesta leaving the appointment five minutes in, but after a half an hour, you were certain that she would make it through the entire session.

To your relief, she did. When she walked out, her eyes were a bit red, but she waved goodbye to the female and promised to meet her next week. Pride swelled in your chest at that, so happy that your love was ready to commit to help.

She walked over to you, arms extended, and without hesitating you gave her a big hug, squeezing her tight.

"How'd it go, love?"

"Good... Hard, but it was... It was nice to talk."

You smiled gently at her, eyes holding her gaze. "I'm glad, Nes. I think you'll enjoy it. *And I'm excited to give you a massage," you giggled, pulling her out of the office and back into the streets.

Nesta laughed, and even if it was still a bit sad, you took it as a win. "I'm excited for that too, honey."

You flushed at the pet name- she had rarely called you that outside of the privacy of your bedroom. It brought up... heated memories.

Nesta knew that, and pinched your ass as she practically chased you back home. As soon as you were shut in your apartment, she threw her dress off, leaving her in just her undergarments, and laid down on the couch. "Massage please," Nesta said, her slight whine so cute that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, my love," you giggled, crawling on top of her so you could start easing the tension from her back and shoulders.

Over the next two weeks, both you and Nesta continued seeing each other whenever you were able, and Nesta started going to see her healer twice a week, already making some strides in learning to manage her trauma.

It was a Wednesday night when you said it. You had both clumsily cooked chicken alfredo, both of you mediocre at cooking at best, so it was a surprise it came out decent at all. The process had probably taken longer than it needed to, with how often the two of you stopped to kiss and touch each other.

It was over dinner that it slipped out, so casually that it shocked even you.

Nesta had just told you a joke about - you couldn't even remember what it was about - but you had laughed so hard, a laugh that was pure joy.

"Mother, I love you," you said, clearly, boldly.

Nesta's eyes widened slightly, and in the few seconds she didn't respond your heart sank into the floor, in the earth.

"I- I love you too," Nesta said softly, a gentle expression on her face.

You grinned and grabbed one of her hands, pressing a firm kiss to the top of it. "You do?"

Nesta narrowed her eyes at you playfully before smiling at you. "I do, Y/N."

"Good. That makes me just as happy as loving you makes me," you cooed, standing from your chair and going over to her. "I hope you know how lucky I consider myself to have you in my life."

Nesta flushed bright red at your admission, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. "I- I don't understand how I got you," Nesta whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I'm such a-" she sniffled. "A bad person."

You sank to your knees in front of her, hands cupping her face. "Hey- that is not true at all Nesta. You are so wonderful, and caring, and kind. You are an amazing person, Nesta. And you have me because you are an amazing person. I love you for who you are, Nessie." You hoped your eyes conveyed just how much your cherished her, cared for her, loved her.

Nesta was quiet for a minute, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "Really?"

You smiled at her lovingly. "Really. Now, if anyone said those words to you, I will go beat the crap out of them for you. You do not deserve to hear those words. And if it was you that said them to yourself, well, I'll make sure you know every day just how amazing you are," you offered.

Nesta laughed weakly. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll be able to handle it. Though you praising me... I think I can handle that," she said, her lips just barely tilting up.

"Well, let me start right now. You are so sweet, and you know how to cook just as well as I do, aaand you know exactly how to cheer me up when I'm having a tough day," you said, rising up a bit to pepper kisses over Nesta's wet cheeks. Her eyes closed and nose wrinkled as you did so, allowing you to press a light kiss over each eye, causing her to laugh.

"Okay, okay. You can stop," Nesta giggled, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. She pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, soft and sweet. "Thank you, Y/N. For everything."

"You're welcome, my love. Now... How about dessert?" You asked, quirking a brow at her. "Snuggles? Kisses? Actually dessert?"

Nesta rolled her eyes, but stood from her chair and pulled you towards the bedroom. "How about all three? And maybe a bit more?" She asked in a sultry tone.

"A bit more would be lovely."

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Another month passed in almost complete bliss, your life with Nesta falling perfectly into place. Therapy was going well for both of you, and you felt more alive than you had ever since you lost your family.

Nesta was the sun in your life, even when it was raining. Her presence never failed to make you happy, and you loved that you seemed to do the same for her. She was still struggling some days, but she seemed to be better at pulling herself out of it and processing what was wrong.

That alone made you beam with pride, how far she had come in trying to heal.

Every morning now, Nesta helped you open the bookstore, and you had even taught her how to make the drinks you serve in the small café. For most of the day, she read in an armchair next to the fire, and helped you restocked books.

You had mentioned something about needing to pay her for her work, but Nes had adamantly refused, claiming that her time with you was more than enough payment.

So instead, you gave her any books she wanted for free. Most of the time, the books stayed in the building, simply making their way up to your apartment, normally to your bedside tables.

Today, Nesta was out at the High Lord and Lady's house, attending one of the weekly family dinners she was seemingly required to attend.

You didn't mind, of course, you thought that Nesta being close with her sisters was extremely important. It's just...

Every week, she tended to have a bad day after their dinners, and you were... Well, you were concerned that something nefarious was happening there, something that was hurting Nesta. Whatever it was, she had refused to talk to you about it as of now.

So tonight, you'd made yourself a simple salad with a bit of grilled chicken on it, and had a quiet bubble bath while you waited for Nesta to come home.

You'd nearly fallen asleep while reading in bed by the time she came into the bedroom.

"Marry me."

That woke you up, book forgotten as you sat up.

"What?" You asked, heart thudding in your chest.

"Marry me, Y/N," Nesta said again, striding across the room to your bedside. "I don't-" she took a deep, steadying breath. "I don't ever want to spend another day without you, and I don't want to spent another day not married to you."

You were breathing faster now, heart racing in your chest as she spoke. "Really?"

Nesta grinned at you. "Really."

You bolted out of bed and into her arms, letting her spin you in a circle. "Yes! Yes, yes yes, Nessie!" You exclaimed, planting a kiss on her lips once you stilled.

Both of you had rosy cheeks from your excitement, and matching toothy smiles as you stared at each other.

"So... Want to go track down a priestess with me?" Nesta asked, intertwining her fingers with yours.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you said, already moving to the closet to get changed.

"Oh, no, I think you should go just like this," Nesta whispered in your ear as she wrapped her arms around you, one hand resting on your stomach and the other in between your breasts.

You giggled at the suggestion. "Nessie I'm in a nightgown, and a skimpy one at that."

"All the better, just wear a long coat over it," Nesta said between the soft kisses she was placing on your neck.

"As much as you would enjoy the view, I'd much rather be in a pretty and slightly more appropriate dress, love." You started flicking through your options, though you were very distracted by the female behind you, still loving on the skin of your neck.

"I suppose I could change as well, put on something a bit more elegant," Nesta said, pulling away from your neck.

"Mm, we could dress and undress each other for our wedding."

"That's just what I was thinking, honey." Nesta began flipping through her own wardrobe that she'd begun to leave here, quickly settling on a long sleeved dress that would reach her ankles, made of a beautiful silk. It was one of the dresses that you absolutely adored her in, but almost never made it out of the house, or even the bedroom.

"Oh, Nes, you know that after this that dress will absolutely never see the light of day again because I will keep you in here with me for hours, right?"

Nesta chuckled from beside you as she began undressing. "I was counting on that, baby."

You rolled your eyes playfully at her before picking out the dress you would wear. You didn't have near as many fancy dresses as Nesta did, but the silk wrap dress that reached your knees would be nice enough for the occasion. It was in a light lavender, with a ribbon to tie around your waist.

"Love, I could say the exact same thing about your choice. You look fantastic in that dress, I think maybe we'll have to have a little reenactment once a month or so," Nesta said once she eyed the dress you had picked.

You kissed her firmly, pouring all of your love into it. "We just might. Now, let's get dressed quickly so that we can find a priestess before they're all asleep," you said, lightly pulling her dress off its hanger.

It may not have been quick, but you and Nesta both got changed into your chosen outfits, with many kisses and gentle touches exchanged in the process.

"Oh- do we have rings?" You asked just as you left the bookstore, locking it behind you.

Nesta froze for a moment. "No. Shit, how could I have forgotten the rings...?" She muttered.

"That's fine, I'm sure someone will be open in the Palace of Thread and Jewels, and it's on the way to the Temple," you told her, grasping her hand and pulling her in that direction.

Sure enough, there were a few vendors that were just about to pack up, and one of them happened to have a display filled with gorgeous rings, some even shown as a matching set.

Together you picked out a matching set of rings, designed with a thin silver band and a small, pale pink diamond in the center. Simple but elegant, with silver for Nesta and pink for you.

The next task in your list to get married was easily accomplished, with the Temple of Night still buzzing with priestesses. One of them, Rosanna, who you had spoken with at your store before, and was more than willing to help you and Nesta on short notice.

With excitement buzzing in your veins, you and Nesta walked hand in hand into the ceremony room, the vaulted ceiling made entirely of glass and pouring moonlight into the room.

Rosanna stood behind the altar in the center of the room, and gestured for the two of you to stand on either side of it.

Once you were in your places, Rosanna lit the three candles on the altar, letting them burn for a minute before speaking.

"Hold your hands together over the flames, please," she requested, and the two of you complied, sharing happy smiles as your eyes met. "The Mother has brought the two of you together with the strings of fate, and with those very strings you choose to bind yourselves for eternity. Tonight you have decided to share your souls, binding them under the moonlight for better or for worse, never to be parted. The flames beneath your hands represent the trials you might face in your shared lives, but with each other, you will persevere. Do you have vows prepared?"

Nesta spoke first, tears shining in her eyes. "In the time that I have known you, Y/N, you have always helped me, cared for me, and shared your love with me. I hope to always return your affections, to keep you safe, and make you happy. I love you, Y/N, and I will always love you."

By the time Nesta finished her vows, tears were streaming down your face, and you were barely able to pull yourself together to say your own.

"Nesta, you have always been a bright light in my life, bringing me joy even if just with a passing smile or a brush of your hand. You have helped me feel alive again, and have made my life so much happier and lively since we have been together. I love you forever, no matter what."

Now both of you were crying, hands squeezed tightly together over the warmth of the candles.

"The Mother sees your devotion, and blesses this union. You may now kiss the bride," Rosanna said cheerily, watching as you and Nesta raised your clasped hands so that your faces could meet over the flames, a gentle joining of your lips the first kiss of your married life. Together, you blew out the flames, only then releasing your hands. You slid Nesta's onto her ring finger, appreciating how perfect it looked on her. Nesta did the same for you, rubbing her thumb over it once it was securely on your finger.

"Now, who will be taking the other's last name?"

"I'll take Nesta's," you answered quickly, grinning at your now wife. "It would be strange for you to not be Nesta Archeron," you said softly. "And... I'd like to take your last name."

Nesta's light blush was enough of an answer for you, but she confirmed it for Rosanna anyways. "Y/N will be taking my last name."

"That's wonderful. I hope the two of you have a wonderful marriage, Mrs and Mrs Nesta Archeron," Rosanna said formally. "And Y/N, I'll be expecting a coffee as my payment for this," Rosanna teased with a wink before leading the two of you out of the temple. "Now go, enjoy your first night as a married couple!"

You and Nesta giggled softly together, but did as she said, stopping in at Rita's for one drink each. After that, you headed straight home, more than ready to have a long night together. Nesta's wandering hands made themselves known on the walk, pinching your ass every now and then.

By the time you made it into your apartment, Nesta's hands were already untying the ribbon of your dress, her lips on your throat.

Oh yes, it would be a long night.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

The next morning, you decided to keep the store closed, staying in with your new wife instead.

Somehow, that title had made Nesta even more attractive to you, which you had previously thought impossible. You woke before her, and just laid staring at her beautiful face as she slept.

Of course, she had gently swatted at you when she realized you had been watching her sleep, but you only laughed and nuzzled into her, relishing in the soft whimpers she let out when you licked at her neck.

"Good morning, my sweet wife," you whispered in her ear. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a goddess," Nesta said softly, turning so she was facing you. "I think that's due to my pretty little wife sleeping next to me."

You blushed at her words, loving this new title you had for one another. "Mm, I think so too. Having you next to me always makes my sleep better."

Nesta let out a pleased huff, her eyes drifting closed. "That's good, love." She yawned wide, her body going taught before relaxing even more in your arms.

You loved when Nesta was sleepy, she was always so adorable.

"Don't go back to bed, Nessie, I wanted to make breakfast together," you whined quietly, without any real force behind it. If you tried, you could likely fall back asleep in Nesta's embrace.

"Mm, only if you find a way to make me wake up," Nesta replied, yawning halfway through.

An idea sparked in your head.

You gently pushed Nesta back onto her back, ignoring her huffy breaths of protest in favor of crawling beneath the blankets, settling yourself between her legs.

She would be better than breakfast.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Your first five days of marriage, you hardly left your apartment. If you did, it was for you and Nesta to run the bookstore, only managing it for a couple of hours at a time before you slipped back upstairs after turning over the open sign in the window.

It was absolute bliss, getting to know Nesta even better, hearing more about what she wanted from a marriage. Someone who is not only her partner, but also her best friend, and someone that she can trust.

You were happy to say that you fit the bill.

It was on your sixth day that Nesta paced around your apartment before you had even woken.

"What's up, Nessie?" You asked her, peeling yourself out of bed to stop her in her tracks.

"Somehow-" Nesta paused, taking a calming breath. "Somehow my family found out about our wedding, and they... They want to meet you," she explained, a distraught look on her face.

"I... Is that a bad thing...?" You asked hesitantly.

Nesta nodded, but panicked when she saw your face fall at her answer. "Not because of you! It's because of them. I don't... I don't know how they'll react. I don't care, but I don't want you to be hurt," Nesta clarified.

"Oh, Nes. I'm sure I'll be fine, and if they say anything rude, we can just leave. Right?"

Nesta's face scrunched up in the way she did when she wasn't happy with the outcome, but had to accept it anyway. "I suppose..."

"And if they don't say anything rude, then it will have been a nice gesture of them to care enough to meet me," you said, swiping a thumb soothingly across her cheek.

Nesta sighed. "I guess you're right... So... tomorrow at seven?"

You smiled. "I'll be ready, Nes. Now - I thought that today we could move the rest of your things in here, if you'd like?" You said, attempting to not only distract her from tomorrow, but get her to fully live with you.

It worked, warmth flooding Nesta's lovely blue-gray eyes. "I'd love to, honey."

Once you managed to keep yourselves clothed long enough, moving Nesta's things into your apartment went smoothly. A few extra bookshelves, filled with Nesta's own collection, made its way into your shared apartment, along with all of Nesta's clothes. Beyond that, she didn't have many things, as most of the furniture had come with her apartment.

The rest of the day was spent in privacy, a clumsily made stew your dinner for the day, with more time spent kissing and giggling than actually cooking.

The next morning, Nesta had woken you up with her tongue between your legs, an orgasm rolling through you before you were fully aware of what was happening. You spent the day paying her back, feasting on her as she read some of the more graphic scenes in your favorite series, loving how her hand in your hair guided you.

By the time dinner rolled around you had bathed twice, the second time only being needed after Nesta had pinned you against a wall and sucked marks onto your neck and shoulders, which had faded into pale yellow marks by the time you arrived in front of the High Lord and Lady's newest residence.

The River House.

From what you could see from the outside, the interior was cozy and slightly informal, and you could already hear roaring laughter from within as you stood hand in hand with Nesta in front of the large front doors.

"Are you ready?" Nesta asked quietly. "Because if you aren't, we can-"

"Nessie, it's going to be fine. Now, let's get inside, the sooner we do the sooner we can go home," you said, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. "Now, do you want to knock, or should I?"

Nesta shook her head at you and smiled. "I love you," she said as she knocked on the thick wood.

"I love you too."

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

[wings-of-ink]

Alright, everyone!

HERE ARE THE ASKS YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR

Below the cut are the asks and my answers/responses. I do apologize for not answering these individually, but some of them contain spoilers for chapter 5 content. Given the developments and reveals of the chapter, I want to let things simmer a bit before I pop off responses like normal.

If my Nonies listed below want to pop back into the ask box and let me know they got their answer, I would appreciate that, but you don't have to either (or if you have an additional question or comment, that's fine too!). I will reblog this a few times to make sure you have a higher chance of spotting it.

I numbered the Asks and put my answers in another color so you can tell things apart a bit easier. This is a trial run on answering these this way. I will also tag things for spoilers. ^_^

Anon:  "There's a she-wolf in the closet" made me laugh so hard I cried sdfjglkjl I was not expecting that out of nowhere 🤣😭  the temptation to name the wolf Shakira...............immense.

I'm so glad you got that reference! My husband and I sing that song to each other with the little "awoos" and all, lol. It was too good to pass up. Fun fact, if you name her Shakira, Oswin has a unique response. 

2. Anon:  Hmmm. "I like the name Aster I'll probably use it again" HMMMMM hMMMMM hmmmMMMM Is this new Aster the ??? RO

Remembered that, did ya 😁 (I was quietly cackling when I wrote that for the old ask). You questioning Aster just makes me want to mess with you Nony, you can't tempt me like this! 

3. Anon:  Aster is so hawt, carressing our cheek w his thumb???? "i wont hurr you" pls let him be an ro bc gah damnnnn

Glad that did it for you, Anon, lol. There will be more of that in store. ^_^

4. Ravioli anon here, hope you remember me LOL I just finished reading the new chapter and I HAD A BLAST The whole gang in here now!!!!!! Aster is no longer question marks!!!! (I will admit when they were introcuded I almost, ALMOST expected their name in game to just be ???)

Hello Ravioli! Still chuckling about that I hope you know. The temptation was unreal to leave ??? in there, lol. At this point, even I know him more by that than his name!

Also to keep up with my perfect choice of names, my she-wolf is now named Der, because together we are Ravi and Der Get it, Ravi 'n Der. Consider this as a way to honor our dear grandma we were named after by our loving dads, you'll never be forgotten, you girlboss of a woman 

OMG, you are killing me over here, lol. This makes me want to code something for that, lol. Just your fathers shaking their heads at your MC while still being kinda amused and weirdly proud. Grandmother Ravinder would glare at you, but smile later.

5. @origamihoshi: Screaming about the necklace Oswin gives MC, my headcanon about MC wearing the snail shell as a necklace can now be canon! and I guess more reasons for my MC to be down bad for Oswin oops. I'm loving the update! I'm so happy to finally meet Rune, I love them so much! I wanna befriend them all. and I feel like there's been a good balance to spend time with all the characters so far and that makes me really happy. 😌Also cuddling with Zahn was so sweet oh my god, I love them so much too! I got so many more questions about MC and the curse, and the mark for that matter, looking forward to when we finally get some answers.

I very, very nearly told you that when you posted your MC, I was so ecstatic. I thought if you while coding that section too. I am so glad you enjoyed the new chapter and new goodies. Lots of fun stuff to come! ^_^

6. @mutsuowo:  HELP I NAMED THE SHE-WOLF ASTER BECAUSE I FIRST CALLED THE MULE YARROW AND NOW I HAVE NOT ONE, NOT TWO BUR THREE ASTER* GOING AROUND (I know one changed to Lakota but the joke that count)

Whoops! Lol Sorry my friend! I don't think any more Asters are hiding about at least. Probably….

7. @mutsuowo: I got spoiled of Aster's name by accident and even then I mistook it for being Lakota, so I thought somehow Lakota had a divorce and took the children to be an option romance with the MC. Cue to me acting like a variety game host and going "We have a cult member, a magician, childhood friends and also a wolf...what about you Aster ? What do you bring to make we choose you ?" The answer was being a DILF

Lol! Oh dear, yeah, bestie has a quarter-life crisis and leaves his wife and 4 kids to live that DILF life. Love it, this is some quality daytime TV stuff. 😆 

8. Anon:  Hello there! I am currently in the middle of the newest chapter, very very good work! Spoiler ahead : So MC is absorbing magic? That might actually help the theory that somehow MC is a god, demi-god, or whatever that is: cursed because they are on this plane and needing magic as a very part of their being? I can't imagine that a god wouldn't be starving for magic if deprived of it. Perhaps in GC it's not magic gods handle, but something similar? The fact that we CHOSE the mark truly makes me think that somehow we were choosing an aspect of ourselves for some reason. Not only something physical either. If not our domain, perhaps a tell of why we were cursed in the first place ? I wonder if, before the Curse manifested, MC would have been flagged as a magic being ? I don't think there was anybody that could have sussed them out back then though ? Rune is amazing, btw, big fan. Can't wait for Purple Lad to accompany us and need a bath as badly as Duri did !

Oooh, are you perhaps my Nony who sent some other theories in about this? Very juicy theory as well. Next chapter you'll learn a bit more about Hayat's curse over the gods and see if it lines up or changes your thoughts more. 😁 I'm glad you like Rune too! They are in for a new experience for sure. Even if they aren't as stuffy as other nobles, they definitely appreciate more refined things. The little town MC grew up in might be a bit of a culture shock. 

9. Anon:  Sooooo... I'm thinking we ARE the mad god ! A reincarnation of it at least ! Thinking about how the cult wanted us dead, I am thinking that as long as MC is alive, they can't have another incarnation of them.   But What exactly was it that drove the god mad ?

Oooh! This one is juicy too! These theories are so tasty! Lots of questions with this one. And like the one above, there may be some info in chapter 6 that may just give more evidence one way or another.

10. Anon:  Me on my first playthrough: oh, Oswin's pretty cute! I think I'll try romancing him first Me when I meet Zahn: oh no you can't just make me choose like that how am I supposed to do this Me when I meet Duri: are you kidding me. Ok screw it I'm romancing Duri Me when I meet Rune: FUCKAIJASJDSAAA Me when I meet ???: No reaction because I'm already combusted. I can't even anymore 

Lol! I am glad and maybe just a tiny bit sorry that you're so torn, my dear. Let's find some glue and get you patched up… ^_^

11. Anon:  HAVE THEORIES! NATHAN IS DURI'S UNCLE, AND ASS-TER -HE DESERVES THAT AFTER THE RING BUSINESS >:( - WAS RAISED BY THOSE ASSHOLES WHO ALMOST KIDNAPPED MC! (I am open to Asster endearing himself later, but I'm mad at him rn, how dare he hurt my already hurt, lovely, MC 😡😡😡) Anyway, your writing is impeccable as always, can't wait to (perhaps) bring Asster to his knees (with love or spite, or maybe both?? He seems like someone easy to love-hate, lol). Tysm, for God Cursed, I love it <333

Yaaass, moar theories! That's a good one too! Nathan having some secrets wouldn't be shocking either. They'd get along too… And it is totally fair for MC to be salty! And ASSter is a perfect nickname, lol. It's also fair that in chapter 6 you'll be able to (try to) get after him about it. :3

12. Anon:  TW SPOILERS ''There is nothing I want more than to hear you…hear you say what you- Nothing more… But for your own sake. Y/N, I'm a monster. I have been a monster. Your heart should be free of thoughts of me until you know what haunts my sleep at night. If you can do that for me and your heart does not change, then I will hear those words and I will spend the rest of my days showing you what you mean to me.'' UUUUHHMMMMM, EXCUSE MEE?????? LIKE THIS IS THE MOST-ROMANTIC-NON-LOVE-CONFESSION I HAVE EVER HEARD??? EVEN THOUGH IT BURNS ME TO NOT KNOW WHAT AFFLICTS OSWIN, AFTER HEARING THAT I'M WILLING TO WAIT FOR HIM.

I love that you love this! I might have cried juuuust a little bit when I wrote that scene, lol (shocking, I know).

13. Anon:  replayed the IF from the start for the update and gosh i felt so bad for our dear MC who has gone through SO much in a (relatively) short amount of time. and the way MC just always thinks about their fathers makes me sobbbbbb. one that always gets me is the scene where MC cried out for their fathers when they were in pain (my heart broke when they said they wanted to be held by their papa). another is in the scene with jasper and co. (‘i learned it from my fathers!’, yesss go MC!!!!). but oh, just imagining the absolute heartbreak the fathers would feel if they knew how MC cried out for them and knew about everything that MC went through, makes me tear up! MC is SO loved by their fathers and MC loves them just as much and i love that. i hope we’ll be able to give da and papa the biggest hugs when we see them again 🥹wonderful update, author! i absolutely adore the world you’ve built and the brilliant characters you’ve created (shout out to one my favs.. our new she-wolf friend <3)

I set out on this IF journey intending to be a bit hard on the MC and I think I succeeded, lol. It might be hard to believe but I really do love the MC as a character too and I feel for them. Hopefully not too hard, but they're on a journey of perseverance so I have faith in them. ^_^ That scene really tore me up too, especially thinking about how hard it would hit the dads to know their beloved kid was calling out to them. 😭 I am so glad you enjoyed the update, my dear, there will be great big dad-hugs in the future, I promise (and more than a few tears). ^_^

14. Anon:  idk if it's choice or route-specific but, zahn was NOT looking good at the end of chapter 5 and i'm worried 😟

Not route-specific (unfortunately???)…they're…going through some things. 😬 (sorry in advance)

15. Anon:  Hi, hi!! Dropping by to blabber about the update after i've finally had time to lose myself in it! (Oh no it got long again.) Okay, so, from the very moment i saw your intro post (over half a year ago, methinks) i decided to go for Rune's route first. I have been very patient, very faithful. And now i can finally say it was so, so worth the wait!!! they have me wrapped all around their beautiful noble finger; they're perfect, they are everything (i mean, how many people can say a literal god shows up for their birthday? yeah, thought so). I know they are no exception either and have their own share of issues, but honestly? that's even better. I wish i was kidding about the amount of times i daydream about them. Look at me now how i'm smiling like a stupid idiot. And the fact that i can make my MC an absolute shy mess around them is just so!! *chef's kiss* 

"Oh no it got long again" is like the tagline for my existence, lol. I am so giddy that you adore Rune! I think they've had less traction since they weren't introduced until now, but I also believe they are just the type of person that is better experienced. I enjoy writing all of the ROs, but Rune is such a presence in my heart and I really hope that comes through.

Also, did Duri seriously rat them out like that? Umm, for science, of what nature, exactly, are the books under Runey's bed?

LOL and I'm so glad you caught that bit about their "hidden literature." Rune LOVES romance novels, including the ridiculous smutty ones even if the plot is kinda bad.

Anyway, moving on, because you fed us so well with the story once again!! Can i just say i love your brain? Can i? Is that weird? Apologies. So!

You can totally say that, lol. I appreciate that you think so, my brain frustrates me sometimes, but I like how smooth it is. Very soft.

We learned so much in this update, and yet our answers are still too far to reach--but that's the whole fun about this! I'm thinking things, i'm suspecting, but i'll hold onto my theories for now… It is indeed very fortunate that each of MC's new friends can seemingly contribute a piece to this vexing puzzle; question is, is the picture only missing the very last piece, or are all four needed for it to be complete? I'm folding my hands and patiently waiting to find out in future updates. 

Oooh, you're speaking my language, Nony. There are some theories up above, maybe those will get your mind spinning too. That's a very good question though too. Eveyone seems to have something that might help MC out…so the question could be, do they go full Power Rangers and combine them to solve this problem or is one strong enough on their own? Hmmmmm? Time will tell.

One thing i will say is, more people may know about MC and their whole deal than Oswin may want to even consider. People with not the best intentions, that is.

I'm sure it's fiiiiiine. Probably just a…crazy…crazy fluke. It's fine. 😀

Speaking of, Oswin is so sweet! He cares so much i think it's rending him apart. Perhaps he should partake of Nathan's pipe every now and then. You know, for recreational purposes. Frankly i admit i don't know how mean you still can be to Oswin because every time there's a choice during his scenes i just tunnel-vision to the friendliest one there. It really makes me feel sorry for him if there are MCs out there who are still bitter about their relationship. As he was opening up about what kinds of actual horrors he witnessed and had to deal with in consequence, it really made me think MC's little group should, as a side-quest, go out and find him a therapist, because this guy *slaps him on the back* can fit so much trauma in him!

That's a good way to describe Oswin. He feels very intensely and those emotions are difficult for him to manage. I try not to be too mean to him, but I do want to try and give a decent variety of responses to the past tension for some MCs. Negativity there isn't a huge focus, so I try not to go too far down the rabbit hole with it at least, lol. A therapist is a great idea for him, for real. You cracked me up with that reference, I imagine Lakota trying to sell him to the MC, lol.

 I see Zahn has entered the trenches(TM). Just after i had them repeatedly stabbed in MC's place. And just after they finally got to cuddle with MC. This is fine. Not gonna lie, for a solid second you had me believe we wouldn't see them come back from that totally not evil or at least highly doubtful church of theirs, and that we'd had to leave without them. Haha, no waay. Lunan wouldn't do that to them, right? Right? Oh thank gods. See? I was right. Anyway, it seems like their character development arc is coming up soon, so i'm keeping calm and not cracking my knuckles, not at all.

Oh yes, there will be some development soon here. Tee hee?

Duri is so fun. Their playfulness is so endearing, so much so that i find myself repeatedly swayed in my decision to have them in a (now mostly) platonic relationship with MC. Simmer down, you'll have your turn. It had me rolling how they snapped once the bandits insulted their feet lmao! Also, also, their dynamic with Rune? Mmm, so good. I love the kind of friendship that's like "yeah i picked up this weird wet dog one day and now it won't leave me be and it's annoying, but only i'm allowed to say that. here, have a treat."

I love that you love that. Writing Duri is fun and I get to break some social norms with them so it's a win-win for us all. The relation to Rune is a blast.

Moving on, Duri sniffing MC after they talked with someone they didn't know; Duri immediately leaping at the opportunity to tease a jealous MC; Duri coming to MC's rescue to put a harasser in their place--they can't keep getting away with being so charming! Oh wait, they can. Human laws don't apply to them, after all.

Duri is already so loyal. Like a pup you picked up at the shelter, the connection is pretty quick for them. Also, if you didn't know, you can also get Rune to get defensive of MC being harassed in the tavern. Currently thinking of changing the code of that, but if you choose to stay neutral or a bit distrustful of Duri, Rune will get involved instead. Both have the confidence and the power to back it up though, can't go wrong.

And Aster? Something is up with him. Big time. Bost obviously, his name. I don't know, i don't know, i'm not convinced it's a coincidence or merely "fate." I'm watching you, Aster. Okay, and yes, i see why MC might need his help, but he never once elaborated on that part where he said he needs MC for power. Sooo, naah, i'm not putting my egg in your basket, not yet. Especially!! After he so brutally demonstrated just how much of a bigger hand he has over MC. That was evil. (In a good way.) He's unhinged, and i love that in a character. I would not trust him even with a cheese grater.

That may be wisdom here for sure, lol. Aster is quite the character, as are all of them I suppose. All have secrets he especially has some serious growing to do. He'll be an interesting addition - and a very smug one at that. Maybe juuuust maybe MC can get him to feel a little remorse for being an ASSter, to quote a previous ask, lol.

I almost thought MC's group of friends were going to mistake him for the kidnapper and everyone would want to throw hands, or would at least be very leery of him, so seeing how easily he slotted in had me a little surprised (and i think he was a bit surprised himself).

That very nearly happened actually. I cut it because of chapter length, and I'm thinking I want to polish the ending for that anyway. I feel like I was burnt out while writing that and I pushed it too fast. So, we'll see what happens in future….

I really, really liked the option of having MC be scared of him after he put a cork (dart) in Jasper's mouth (throat). The head tilt afterwards? Wiping away a stray tear? "Now come sit with me on my picnic blanket designer cloak to talk about how everything is drawn to you, including me?" "I'll need to study you?" Yes, i'll take your entire stock.

I'm glad you enjoyed your dessert, Nony. ;) There will be some serious studying in the next chapter.

Oswin being extremely quiet while MC was recounting their failed abduction because he was still recovering from those 6 panic attacks he had since finding MC's room empty and with signs of struggle.

THIS absolutely. MC may get an account of the experience later.

 i can't wait to see what the dads are going to say about each of MC's new friends! I can already imagine who might not entirely vibe with whom, especially if papa and da are going to be in a sour mood after they see my (feral despite being the healer of the party) MC scarred and sore despite their letters containing nothing but rainbows and sunshine (oops). MC's right, though, how are they going to house so many people lol.

This will be so much fun, especially when it comes to sleeping arrangements…A couple ROs will get themselves sorted but there's a couple that we might just get a "one bed" trope with, lol.

And last but not least, MC got the promised puppy!!! (i named her "Ginger" <33) 

Oh that is such a cute name too! She is kinda the color of ginger and she's also very gentle (ginger) AND she can be very spicy if you piss her off. Very gingery.

I have been here before and gushed about your writing on multiple occasions and i don't want to repeat myself over and over, so i'll just reiterate once more that i'm constantly blown away by how real and vivid you make everything feel. You're putting things down and i'm picking them right up, thank you, thank you, yup, i'll have that as well, thank you. You're painting pictures inside my head, and they're gorgeous and vibrant and moving now--hey, how did you even get in here? I'm convinced you're a mage. MC is not the mage here (yet?), but you sure are!! It's okay, you may fess up now. As always, thank you so much for all your hard work! May your holidays be full of joy and rest! Take care <333

I am so thankful that you resonate so much with my writing, my friend. That really truly makes my heart so glad and encourages me to keep at it. I hope each chapter brings you more and more enjoyment and adventure. ^_^

16. @rhiannon02:  IM SCREAMING OVER CH 5 LITERALLY SCREAMING ASTER ??? IM IM LOSING IT

Well, hang on dear, maybe I can help you find it, lol. (I heard that one in my soul) ^_^

That's all for now! ^_^

[daisynik7]

Sweet Like Honey

Chapter 3: First Vacation

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~5.1k

cw: established relationship, fluff, smut – phone sex, mutual masturbation, PIV sex (doggy style, cowgirl), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, sweeties, baby), use of the word slut (endearing)

Summary: You and Nanami go on your first trip together to a hot springs resort and things get steamy. 

Author’s Notes: Here’s the last spicy side story for A Bento for Kento! This is a repost; I’ve rewritten it a bit to reflect my current writing style better. I hope you enjoy it! Nanami deserves all good things in the world! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune. 

Previous Chapter | Sweet Like Honey Masterlist

Four months into your relationship, you and Nanami plan your first trip together. The two of you sit on the couch in your living room, digesting the dinner you just ate. There’s a nearby mountain town called Hakone, known for being a hot springs resort with views of Mt. Fuji. Apparently, Nanami has been there before and recommends it. Having never been to a hot spring yourself, the idea of snuggling up next to your boyfriend in a steamy stone bath excites you. That is, until he breaks the news to you. “Hot springs are separate for men and women, sweetheart. We won’t be in the hot springs together.”

You look at him, mouth agape. “Huh, what’s the point then?!”

He chuckles, lifting the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “To relax. You really can’t go a few hours without being beside me?” 

You raise a brow at him. “Oh please. Says the man who made me late to work this entire week because you kept wanting to cuddle.”

Smiling, he responds, “I can’t help it. It’s getting cold and you’re too cute. Anyways, I’m planning to book a room with a personal hot tub on the balcony, so we can still relax together at night.” 

That does sound nice. And it’s not like you are actually upset about the separate hot springs. It’s probably a better idea not to be near each other when naked in public. 

Since the day you two confessed your love for one another, the sex has ramped up quite a bit. And by quite a bit, you mean a lot. With your dear brother Ren officially living in the dorms at Jujutsu High, you and Nanami are together nearly every day, either at your place or his. And with your love for each other growing by the second, it’s no surprise that sex has become a regular part of your lives. You can’t keep your hands off each other. Sometimes, the two of you don’t have the patience to move to the bedroom, so Kento made sure to hide lube in the drawers of each room in both your homes, even in the most unsuspecting of places, like the kitchen and laundry room, which has definitely come in handy already. In the beginning of your relationship, there was still that trepidation of figuring out what each other was comfortable with. Both of you were extremely cautious of not crossing any lines, always asking, “Is this okay?” or “Do you like this?”. After a certain point, you became more comfortable with each other. You feel safe when you’re together. Now, the sex is more passionate than it’s ever been. Knowing he loves you just as much as you love him makes all the difference. This is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. There’s no holding back. 

“Hot tub on a balcony? Sounds very romantic.” You scooch closer to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Let’s do it.”

“Great. I’ll ask Gojo to help me book it. He’s the one who got us in last time.” He leans forward to nuzzle his nose to yours, grinning. “I can’t wait. Our first vacation together.”

“I’m getting excited just thinking about it.” You kiss him on the lips as he cradles you in his arms. 

“What are you thinking about? Are you being naughty again?”

“Of course not! How dare you. You know I’m a good girl,” you say with a coy smile, walking your fingers up his chest to loosen his tie.

He hums. “You are a good girl. You’re my good girl.” His lips brush lightly along your neck. In just a few short minutes, clothes are shed and the drawer next to the couch is open. 

~~~

The week of their vacation, Nanami is sent on a mission to Osaka with Gojo. Not only does he have to spend four days in a hotel room with his insufferable friend, but this will be the longest he’s been apart from his girlfriend since they started dating. 

On the last night, Nanami groans at his phone, staring at a picture of the yakisoba she made for dinner tonight as he eats a bowl of spicy instant ramen from a convenience store. “Remind me why we don’t have any stipend for food?” Nanami asks Gojo, who is happily slurping away at his noodles, cross-legged on the bed.

“Geez, Nanamin. Sorry our agency can’t afford five-star meals every night. Since when have you been such a snob?!”

“I’d rather be at home, eating my girlfriend’s yakisoba than eating instant ramen with you.”

“I’m so glad you said yakisoba and not something else,” Gojo jokes, with an eyebrow raised.

They finish the rest of their meal in a comfortable silence. When he’s done, Gojo stands up to stretch his long limbs. “I’m going for a walk. Be back in thirty minutes.” 

“Where are you going?”

“Just around. I’m giving you some alone time so you can talk to your girlfriend. Take the hint, buddy.”

Surprised, Nanami murmurs, “You don’t have to leave. It’s fine.”

“Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just tell her I say ‘hi’. And remember, thirty minutes. I better not walk in here with your pants down,” he teases, smirking as he opens the door.

“Oh, you are awful,” Nanami mutters before he’s left all alone. Finally. 

Immediately, he dials her number and after two rings, she picks up. “Hi baby!”

He loves hearing her voice. It instantly puts him in a good mood. “Hi honey. How are you?”

“Honey? Are you alone right now?”

“Yes. Gojo went out for a walk.”

They chat for several minutes about each other’s week. Nanami talks about the multiple curses they’ve exorcised and how Gojo has them eating convenience store food every night. She complains about work and her friend’s boyfriend drama, which he shamelessly indulges in. 

“I miss you so much,” Nanami says. He’s sitting up on his bed now, loosening the tie around his collar. 

“I miss you too, Kento.”

“I can’t wait for our vacation tomorrow.”

“Me too.”

There’s a brief silence over the phone, a familiar tension growing between the static noise. She breaks the silence first. “What do you want to do during our trip?”

“Well, we’re going to do the hot springs, maybe a massage –”

“No, Kento. I mean, what do you want to do to me?” He hears shifting on her end. He wonders what room she’s in and what she’s wearing.

He exhales into the phone, reaching for his belt, unbuckling it quietly. “What do you want, sweetheart? I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

“Whatever I want?” she challenges. 

“Yes, anything.”

“Can you fuck me like the little slut that I am?”

“Fuck, baby. Fuck,” he mutters, pushing past the waistband of his pants to release his erect cock. He starts jerking off hastily, picturing her sprawled out on the bed for him, legs spread wide and ready to be railed. “You’re such a slut for me, huh? Always so needy for this cock. Where are you right now?” He rasps filthy words into the phone, all discretion tossed out the window.

“I’m on the couch in the living room, touching myself.” 

“Already? Can’t even make it to the bedroom, huh? You really are a slut. Can’t wait to eat that pussy out tomorrow. Can’t wait to devour you. You always taste divine on my tongue.” 

“God, Kento. Wish you were here. Wish you could fuck me on the couch like you did last week.” 

“Have you been touching yourself while I’ve been away? Have you been naughty?” He bites his lip thinking about her rubbing that clit with those cute little fingers, sliding them up and down her wet cunt. 

“Yes, I’ve been very naughty,” she huffs, voice trembling with arousal. “How will you punish me?” 

“Going to give you a spanking,” he growls, fisting his cock faster, precum leaking from the tip. “Going to fuck you until you can’t come anymore. Going to milk you dry.”

“Is that a promise?” If he listens carefully enough, he can hear the lewd squelches while she pleasures herself, spurring him on.

“You’re such a bad girl, always trying to provoke me. Tell me exactly what you’re doing.”

“Rubbing my clit,” she stammers. “Spreading my cum all over it so it’s nice and wet for you. God, I miss you so much, baby.”

“I know, honey. I miss you too. I miss you too,” he repeats, getting closer and closer to the edge. “Can you make yourself come? For me? Fuck yourself, pretend it’s me doing it. I want to hear it.”

He relishes in her faint whimpers as she masturbates on the phone with him, timing his strokes to match her moans. “There you go, sweetheart. Just like that. You’re doing so good for me,” he praises. He’s close and by the sounds of it, so is she. “Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he says in a low voice.

“Your big cock filling me up.”

“What position?”

“Cowgirl. I’m bouncing on it until you come inside, like how we did it on the couch. It was dripping down my thighs, remember?” Her voice is hoarse with lust, gradually unraveling on the other end of the line. 

“How could I forget?” he smiles to himself, vividly recalling the erotic memory. “And what did I do after?”

She lets out a loud moan before answering, “You put it back in me and fucked me again.”

“That’s right, baby. I know how much you like that.” He strokes his dick in a frenzy, ears hot and eyes shut tight as he approaches his climax.  

“Come with me, Kento. Come with me.” 

At her command, his abs clench as he releases all over himself, painting the bottom of his button up shirt with his seed. He really should have taken this off beforehand, but as usual, they get too caught up in the moment to think logically. 

“Did you come?” Her voice is quiet, her breathing shallow just like it gets whenever she orgasms.  

“Yes, I did. All over my shirt,” he admits, laughing softly.

“Oh no! Baby!”

“It’s okay. I have another one. How about you? Did you come?”

“Yes, I did,” she replies. He smirks, picturing her laid out on the couch, panties around her ankles, that blissful gaze in her eyes. That’s my girl, he muses. 

“You should clean yourself up before Gojo gets back,” she suggests.

Gojo. Shit.

Nanami turns his wrist to read his watch; it’s been at least forty-five minutes since his friend left for his thirty-minute walk. In a panic, he checks his messages and finds three from Gojo that he somehow missed:

NANAMINNNNN coming back from my walk now

never mind, extending my walk another 30

you dirty bastard

~~~

The next day, you and Nanami reunite for your trip. It’s a two-hour train ride to Hakone. You rest your head on Nanami’s shoulder, hands laced together, basking in each other’s existence. A few days away makes you realize how happy you are being with him. As if you had any doubts. 

When the train approaches the station, Nanami lightly taps on your thigh to get your attention. He points out the window. “Look, sweetie.” It’s a gorgeous view of Mt. Fuji in the distance. The hotel you’re staying at is only a ten-minute walk from the station, meaning this is the scenery you’ll have all weekend. You can’t imagine anything more romantic and peaceful than this. 

The hotel is as quaint as you pictured it. You check into the room and settle in before getting ready for the hot springs. Two hours away from each other is a cinch, especially in paradise. You both enjoy your separate onsen experiences, rejuvenated and relaxed for the night to come. 

After a delightful dinner at the hotel restaurant, it’s time to retreat into your room. On the elevator ride up, Nanami pushes you up against the wall and kisses you, unable to contain himself any longer. You fumble on the way to the room, exchanging delicate kisses until you’re inside. He removes his coat, then yours, before wrapping his arms around you in a big bear hug. “I’ve been waiting all week for this,” he says softly. 

You both change into proper hot tub attire: Nanami in swim trunks, you in a two-piece bathing suit. He leads you to the balcony, holding your hand to help you into the spa. The sexual tension is palpable. As you sit beside each other in the water, your muscles relax in the heat. You let your head fall back on the edge of the tub as you sigh, feeling at ease, staying like this for a few minutes. Even with your eyes closed, you can sense Nanami’s gaze on you. Cracking one eye open, you smirk. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”

His hand slides up your thigh. “I can’t help it when you look like this.”

You face him, smiling. “And what do I look like?”

“Happy. Tranquil.” He pauses, leaning in closer to whisper, “You’re beautiful.”

There’s a flutter in your stomach, a sensation you’ll never get tired of. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

Your lips brush together seamlessly, his breath warm on your mouth. With your hands on his chest, you feel the steady thump of his heartbeat pick up in pace as you continue to kiss passionately. Your skin prickles with goosebumps despite the surrounding heat. Something about the way Nanami kisses you always makes you tingly.

Straddling his lap now, you kiss his neck while you roll your hips on him, using his shoulders to hold on to. He lets out a guttural moan, making you ride him slower, touching every inch of him as you possible can until he’s undeniably hard beneath you. You want him. You need him.  

Water splashes over the edge of the tub, the waves rippling with each movement. The steam from the hot water is dewy on your skin. He caresses your head, fingers gripped to the back of your head, gently pulling you off so he can meet your lips with his before trailing along your neck, sucking on your skin, claiming you as his. His other hand cups your ass, moving with the rhythm in which you ride him. 

“You’re so good to me, Kento. Always so good to me,” you whimper.

He whispers in your ear, “I want you. I want you around my cock.” His squeezes your ass tighter, his self-control wavering. “Let’s go.”

You hop off and get out first. The contrast of the cold night air on your sweltering skin makes you shiver. When you watch him emerge out of the water with a very distinct bulge in his swimming trunks, you shudder even more. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” he teases, grabbing your wrist and leading you back inside. His grip is strong, his pace quick. Seeing him unravel like this is arousing. Knowing how much he desires you in this moment makes you quiver for him.

He takes you into the bathroom, where he starts the shower, knob turned all the way to hot. He releases his hold on you to remove his swimming trunks, his hard dick flopping against his abdomen. The sight resonates straight to your arousal. In complete surrender, you bend over the sink counter begging, “Kento, please. I can’t wait anymore. I need you right now.”

He leans over you, his lips tickling your ear as he chuckles. “Be a good girl and get in the shower. Be patient, sweetheart.” His erection rubs against you, his lips grazing your nape seductively. He roams your back to remove your top, then down your ass, where he slides your bikini bottoms off at an agonizing speed. 

Pouting, you do as he says, slapping your ass as you step over the bathtub. He follows you in, pawing at your waist to pull you close. With a bar of soap, you stand underneath the hot shower, scrubbing the chlorine off your skin as Nanami watches you from behind. Soap suds travel from your neck down to your breasts. From the your peripheral, you see him lick his lips, salivating. When you’re ready to rinse off, you turn to face him, reaching between your legs, tapping your clit. 

“Can’t wait to taste you,” he says in a low voice, the look in his eyes carnal with desire. God, you want him. You want him so bad it hurts, pussy aching to be filled.

Letting the water rinse your body, you offer him the bar of soap. He shakes his head. “You do it.” This is the other side of him. Nanami is usually sweet and gentle with you. Never does he demand you to do anything or boss you around. But when he’s like this, you can’t help but heed his every command. Only you get to see him like this. You scrub the soap on his skin, sliding your hands all over his body. You pull him closer to you, letting the water wash away the bubbles. When you reach down to his still erect cock, he snatches your hand away and growls, “Not yet. I want to fuck you on the bed.” 

Once rinsed off, he gives you a small kiss on the forehead before stepping out, leaving you alone in the shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he gives you one last smirk before exiting the bathroom. What is he up to? 

A small groan escapes your mouth, your patience wearing thin. This is the longest foreplay you two have managed to last through. How much longer is he going to keep you waiting? How has he managed to stay this hard for this long without giving in? The anticipation puts you on edge. 

When you’re done, you wrap a robe loosely around yourself, returning to the bedroom to see Nanami sitting up on the bed, naked on top of the covers, watching you. He points to a small, black gift bag propped up at the foot of the bed. “Open it.”

Inside is a black slip dress and a matching lace thong. You swallow hard as you glide the thin material between your fingers, nervous and aroused at what’s about to come. “Put it on. Model it for me.” He leans back on the headboard, palms behind his head, cock stiff against his stomach. There’s a smug expression on his face; you can tell he’s enjoying this. 

You shrug the robe off and wear the dress first. Your nipples poke through the fabric. Nanami bites his lower lip and leans forward to get a better look. “Now put the thong on. Slowly.”

At his direction, you slip on the lingerie slowly. When it’s past your knees, he says, “Turn around and let me see.” With your back towards him, you stick your ass out and lift the hem of the dress to slide the thong between your cheeks. 

You hear him moan quietly. “Perfect. You’re perfect. Come here, sweetheart.”

~~~

She crawls next to him, where they begin kissing, all sloppy and wet. Her hand reaches down to stroke his shaft. He cradles her bottom, fingers feeling for the lacey fabric buried between her ass cheeks.  

“Get on your back,” he orders, hovering above her, marveling at how insanely gorgeous she is. The satin dress accentuates every bodacious curve of her body. He makes a mental note to buy more of these for her in the future.

He slides his hand beneath the dress to rub his fingers on the wet spot of her lacey lingerie. “So wet for me already,” he purrs, slipping past the fabric. “Always so wet for me.”

“Please,” she pleads. He loves it when she begs. Absolutely loves it. It awakens something in him. The usually calm Kento Nanami becomes unhinged whenever he touches her. But when she begs for it, he wants nothing more than to make her feel amazing, to be the reason she squirms in pleasure beneath him.

He slides his middle finger along her folds, gathering as much slick as he can before he starts caressing her puffy clit. She whines under his touch, the sensation too much. She’s been waiting for this all night. Been begging for it. This is her reward for her patience. She grabs the nearest pillow to cover her mouth, but as soon as she does, Nanami pulls it off and tosses it behind him. 

“No,” he demands. “I want everyone to hear how good you’re getting it right now.”

He shimmies down the bed, spreading her thighs apart. With his head between her legs, he leans forward, teasing her clit with a flick of his tongue, holding her panties to the side. She grabs hold of his hair as he presses soft kisses to her clit. Suddenly, he flattens his tongue on her bud and moves it side to side, surrounding every centimeter of that pretty clit with his mouth. Lewd sounds fill the room, from her loud, shameless moaning to the wet noises he makes as he eats her out. He adjusts his position to stroke himself as he continues to devour her.

She’s like honey on his tongue, luscious and decadent. He cherishes every time he gets to do this to her. Usually, she is too shy to let him eat her out. She deprives him of this treat. He’s starved for it. With her like this, spread out like a fucking feast in front of him, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take full advantage of this moment. He latches his lips around her, sucking on it as he lets go of his cock to slide his middle and ring finger into her pussy. He watches her chest fall and rise with shallow breaths with his fingers pumping in and out of her, thumb rubbing circles around her clit. She cries out his name. “Kento!”

“Fuck. You have no idea how good you look right now, swallowing up my fingers like this.” He bucks his hips against the bed, desperate for any type of friction. All he hears from her is a litany of swears and his name. Her moans eventually turn into whimpers. He stops massaging her clit and eats her out again, this time sloppier and more erratic as he continues to work his fingers inside her. The sheets are damp with his saliva and her cum. He’s not sure how many times she orgasms; based on the evidence before him, he guesses it’s at least twice. She’s too busy taking it like a slut to even verbalize when she’s coming. 

When he’s close to his limit, he places one last tender kiss on her clit before releasing her lacey thong; he’s been holding them to the side this entire time. His fingers slip out of her, shiny with her orgasm. The temptation to suck her sweet nectar from his fingers is too good to resist. As he kneels next to her, he leans down to put his face close to hers. Her eyes widen with anticipation, waiting for his next move. With a dark look in his eyes, he licks his glossy fingers, dragging his tongue up and down, savoring it like it’s the most decadent treat. She whines, staring at him, grinding her hips up, desperate to be fucked. He never gets tired of seeing her like this.  

Fully aware of how her slick glistens on his lips and chin, he murmurs, “Taste yourself. I want you know how good you are.”

There’s a dazed expression in her eyes as she obeys, sitting up to kiss him sloppily, tongue lapping into his open mouth then down to his chin. It drives him crazy. Before he comes right then and there, he shoves his hand between her legs and tugs her panties off, admiring how soaked they are, all for him. Because of him. 

Under the pillow is the bottle of lube he hid right after he got out of the shower. He pops off the cap and pours a liberal amount into his palms, coating his shaft. He strokes his cock vigorously, asking, “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Kento. Please. Please. I need you inside me.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He kneels in front of her, aligning the tip of his dick with her slit, entering her slowly, careful not to be too forceful. She’s always so tight, even when she’s dripping wet for him. “Such a good girl,” he whispers, leaning over her to kiss her forehead. 

Halfway in, her body adjusts to his size, allowing him to thrust into her in fluid motions. She wraps her legs around him, babbling. “Kento, fuck. Fuck.”

“So wet for me. You’re perfect around my cock.” Once he’s fully inside her, he kisses her with open lips, tongue licking up her saliva as she moans into his mouth. He pins her wrists above her head, thrusting his hips against her. They make love like this for a while, Nanami relishing the way her body melts around him. He knows what she wants, but he takes his time teasing her like this until she groans out, “Fuck me harder. Please.”

As if on cue, he pulls out of her and taps his fingers at her hips. At his command, she flips over onto her stomach and gets on all fours, pushing her ass out. The hem of her satin dress rides up over the curve of her hips. The sight in front of him is immaculate. He wants this ingrained in his memory forever. “Think you can take it, sweetheart? I’m not gonna go easy on you.”

“Yes, baby. Fuck me hard. Please. I can take it.”

“Good girl,” he coos, placing a soft kiss on her back. Whatever she wants, he’ll give it to her, especially when she begs like this. He puts both of his hands on each of her ass cheeks and spreads them apart, watching his glistening cock slowly slide into her pussy. 

“God, I wish you could see what I see right now. It’s exquisite. You look fucking incredible like this. My sweet girl.” Once he’s all the way in, he grabs hold of her hips and fucks her. Hard. Exactly how she likes it. 

“Fuck, feels so fucking good!” she cries out. Her knuckles are tight as she clenches the sheets. He spanks her as he fucks her, causing her to groan into the pillow with her back arched. The sound of his pelvis slapping against her ass with each rapid thrust is filthy. 

“I needed this, baby. It’s been such a long week,” he grunts. “God, you take it so well. Such a slut for me, huh? Say it.”

“I’m a slut for you, Kento. Feels amazing when you fuck me like this.” 

Grip still firm on her hips, he continues to drive his cock into her, reveling in the way she swallows him up. She turns her head to the side, that dazed look on her face. Her lips are parted as she continues to moan incoherently, drool leaking down the sides of her wet mouth. When she makes eye contact with him, her lips curl into a small smile. “Right there, Kento. Make me come.”

Growling, he hits her sweet spot until she comes all over his cock. She tightens around him. his dick creamy with more of her cum with each thrust. It’s obscene; he can’t hold it in anymore. 

“Ride me,” he demands, pulling out abruptly. He rolls onto his back, watching her climb on top of him. She guides his dick inside her, exhaling deeply as she sinks lower onto his shaft. It goes in easily, her pussy sleek from her multiple orgasms, his own precum, and the lube from earlier. When he bottoms out, she leans over him, kissing him passionately as she thrusts her ass back and forth onto his cock. 

“Just like that. Fuck,” he moans. This is his absolute favorite position. He loves it when she rides him like this. Always so eager and greedy for his cum whenever she’s on top. It makes him feel like a fucking god. He cranes his neck to the side, tugging on the hem of her dress to watch her bounce on his lap. “I fucking love this. You know how much I love this, you fucking nasty slut.” 

“I’m such a nasty slut for you, baby. Only for you. Fuck,” she moans into his ear, riding him faster. 

He’s close. How he’s managed to last this long without coming, he’ll never know. Maybe his stamina has improved after all the sex they’ve been having recently. Or maybe it’s the thought of coming in her like this that kept him under control. Whatever it is, he decides he’s been patient long enough. 

“Let me take over,” he whispers to her.

Her body relaxes. Now, he’s in control. He plants his feet onto the bed and thrusts into her at a rapid pace, holding onto her waist to move her in perfect rhythm with his hips. 

“Come inside me, Kento. Fill me up,” she mewls into his ear.

At her words, he releases inside her, shutting his eyes tight as he rides out the rest of his orgasm. When he’s finished, he pulls out and she collapses beside him. The dress is defiled with the aftermath of their lovemaking, just as he fantasized about. 

~~~

You put your arm over his chest and lay your head against his shoulder. “Wow,” is all you can muster, voice shaky. Nanami just rocked your fucking world, and you can’t find better words to describe it. 

He chuckles, his eyes still closed. “Yeah. Wow.” He takes your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist. “I’m sorry for calling you a slut.”

You giggle. He always does this. “You don’t have to keep apologizing for that! You know I like it.”

“I usually don’t use degrading language like that. I just want to make sure it’s still okay with you.” You can’t contain your smile. He’s too cute for his own good. 

“By the way, how long have you been planning this?” you ask.

He finally opens his eyes and faces you. “All week. Saw the dress on display at a mall in Osaka. I knew it would look magnificent on you. It’s even better than what I imagined.”

“You sneaky devil!”

“I’m only this way because of you. You really unleash the devil in me.” He grins, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“I guess I’m the lucky angel then, huh?”

“You are,” he says, peppering kisses on your face. “My sweet angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After a few more minutes of post-coital cuddling, the two of you wash up again and get ready for a well-deserved sleep. You snuggle each other in pure bliss, looking forward to more vacations with the man you love. 

Tag List: @chiyoso @bloombb @liliorsstuff-blog

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter 1

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 1700 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Overall rating will be Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap but I imagine a lil' baby one of about 5 to 8 years. This chapter is a wee lil mellow one and sets the scene, but future ones will include soft, yet sexy and intense Dave; several twists - basically, it will have it all: action, angst, deception, fluff, humor, a puppy(!), and SMUT! No use of y/n. Dave will give reader a nickname based on his perception of her.

AN: I got too excited and decided to post the first chapter. Posting schedule will be somewhere are weekly, give or take a few days. Hope you enjoy and let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter 1:

“Sure, honey. You can come stay for a while,” your mom assured you. She sounded excited even though it wasn’t a call you wanted to make, not at this point in your life, but what other options did you have? “You can see the house and meet your new stepdad!”

Dead air.

The soft glow of you bedside lamp cast long shadows on the room, making the clutter of half-packed boxes look like ominous towers. Your knuckles whitened as you gripped the phone tighter, trying to process her words.

“My new WHAT?” your voice rose toward the end in utter confusion. You didn’t even know your mom was dating anyone, let alone someone serious enough to fucking marry!

“Oh, honey, his name is Dave and you’re just gonna love him,” she replied with a lovesick simper.

You’d never heard her voice do that. She must be really into the guy.

Enough to marry him without even inviting you to the god damn wedding?

She’s still chatting away, explaining how they met – at work – and how it was such a whirlwind romance that they got carried away on a work trip to Vegas and decided to just tie the knot without telling anyone.

Okay. That, actually, didn’t surprise you. Your mom was super smart but could be a total a flake sometimes, leaving you to wonder who the adult was on more than one occasion while growing up. She had you really young and never quite matured.

“That’s great, Mom. I can’t wait to meet him,” you finally replied after twenty minutes of listening to her gush over this Dave guy. “But I’m not calling him Dad.”

She laughed. “Of course not, honey. He’s too young to really be your dad anyway.”

That piqued your interest.

“Oh, oh, oh, you robbin’ the cradle, mama?” you teased. “You’re really living your cougar era, huh?”

“Stop it, you,” she giggled in return. “So, when do you think you’ll get here?”

Conversation went back and forth a little longer as your mom gave you the new address – for fuck’s sake, they moved clear across the state from where you grew up, to a very swanky area at the shore, you noted – and you made a rough itinerary. In reality, you would have loved to just drop everything and get the fuck out of dodge right that minute, but logistics and all that.

“Ok, honey. Be careful and I’ll see you next week. Call if you need anything.” Before she ended the call, your mom added, “I’ll text you Dave’s number as well, so you have it in case of emergencies.

“Sounds good, mama. Love you.”

“Love you more, honey.”

You went back to packing up the remnants of your life, readying yourself for the cross-country journey ahead.

You did not have ‘moving back home at almost 30’ on your bingo card this year, but there you were, pulling into the half-moon driveway of a large colonial home in an upscale neighborhood, one much nicer than where your mom used to live. The house loomed under the late morning sun, its pristine white siding and black shutters stark against the cloudless blue sky. Perfectly trimmed hedges flanked the curved driveway, and somewhere nearby, the faint crash of waves carried on the salty breeze. This Dave guy had a lot of money, it appeared. Parking your little sedan to the far side in front of the 3-car garage, you turned the car off and lingered in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel.

Normally, you didn’t mind change, but… man, the past month threw some whammies at you. You lost a boyfriend, job, and your loyal goldfish in quick succession. Each loss hit worse than the last. And now, your safe space, the place you needed to return to so you could lick your wounds… also changed. Big time.

The soft tap of a manicured nail on the window startled you, head snapping to the side to see your mom standing in the driveway beaming at you. She bounced on her feet, anxiously waiting for you to get out of the car.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you!” You barely had time to fully stand up before she pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That was another thing about your mom – she was strong. She had lithe muscles packed into her small figure from being a total gym addict.

Too bad that addiction wasn’t hereditary. You hated the gym.

“Hi mama! Marriage looks good on you!” you praised her once you stepped back and took in her glowing, sun-kissed skin, vibrant blonde locks, and the large rock on her hand.

“You look good, too, honey. You losing weight?”

And of course, she honed right in on that. You weren’t even in front of her for five minutes, and she brought up your weight. Story of your life. Your body shape the exact opposite of your, mother’s, she hadn’t let up on nagging you about your weight since you were twelve years old. You were always a bit… thick in places.

“Uh, maybe, I dunno. Come on, show me your new digs.” You quickly changed the subject.

Your mom gives you the grand tour, proudly showing off all the lovely features of the house, focusing heavily on the ones the home you grew up in didn’t have like the huge kitchen, fireplace, pool, and enormous master suite, though she led you away before you could fully explore all that the suite offered. The two other bedrooms were already decorated for little girls, and you quirked a curious eyebrow at your mom.

“Didn’t I mention that Dave has two young daughters?”

No. No, she definitely did not mention that. You rolled your eyes, understanding now why your mom was so eager for you to come home. She wanted a built-in caretaker. You mentally counted down, knowing exactly what she was about to say in three, two, one…

“Actually, now that you’ll be living here, it would be great if you could look after the girls when we have to travel for work or want to go out, help with the school runs during the week.”

It wasn’t a question, you noted. Not that you expected her to ask first or even mention that being a nanny would be part of the deal. Nothing with your mom ever came without a cost. You learned that lesson long ago.

You loved your mom, you really did. Sometimes, she just didn’t make it easy to do so.

“Right. About that… where am I supposed to be staying if all the bedrooms are taken?”

She led you down the stairs to a door off the family room, where another stairway awaited you. “You’re locking me away in the basement?” you joked. “Please tell me it’s at least finished.”

“Just wait until you see it, honey,” your mom promised, and you reluctantly followed her down the steps.

When the lights flicked on, the sight took your breath away. It was like an entire apartment down there. It even had its own private entrance leading to the garage allowing you to come and go as you pleased. “Wow,” you breathed.

“Told ya.” She flashed you a twitchy wink. “You’ll have this whole space to yourself… well, except for that room over there.” She pointed to a closed door equipped with a sturdy lock.

“What’s in there?” you questioned, already curious about the reasoning for such a lock on the door.

“That’s Dave’s office. It’s off limits to everyone but him, so don’t go snooping. Got it?” She pointed a finger at you like you were an errant child, and you raised your hands in surrender.

“Heard you loud and clear, mama. I have no interest in whatever creepy ass skeletons Dave is keeping in his locked office.” Total lie, of course, but your mom didn’t need to know that.

“Good. Get settled in and help yourself to whatever you need. I must head to the office for a bit. Dave should be home at some point, he just had a meeting in town. I’ll pick up the girls from school on my way home if you want to take care of dinner.”

And there it was. You knew there’d be a bigger price to pay for this arrangement, more than occasionally taking care of your new stepsisters. Without a job or any other responsibilities, your mom was going to treat you like free labor. You saw that coming.

You followed your mom upstairs and through the front door as she headed to her car in the garage, and you went for yours. Might as well get unpacked, not like you brought much anyway. It was early still, and you could make a trip to the store for anything you needed before having to worry about dinner.

A few hours later, you stepped back to admire your new living space with a sense of pride. You did everything you could to make it your own, within reason.

With the basement suite basically being a blank slate, you chose a variety of decorative pillows, wall hangings, and chotchkes to give it your own stylistic flair. The furnishings unused and rather plain, you wanted to spice them up with splashes of color. You did everything short of paint the damn walls – and you would have done that too if given the option.

Grateful for a firm mattress with a plush pillowtop, you sprang for the softest satiny sheets you could find in a pale green hue and paired it with a patterned comforter with clean lines. A couple of coastal-themed lamps on the nightstands rounded out the small bedroom.

The bathroom was already decorated with a shower curtain and accessories in soft gray hues, and you wondered if that was Dave’s touch or your mother’s. Probably Dave. Your mom never veered toward subtle furnishings, much preferring patterns and styles that you found garish.

Glancing around at the neat space one last time, you headed upstairs to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. You wanted to make something special for the first time meeting your stepdad and his daughters.

tbc

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69

[newtkive]

pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]

ch. 1 - the gc birth

in which two online friends navigate a romance through a minecraft groupchat with their stupid friends

or, newt, the quiet, stoic boy, and y/n, the bubbly girl both curse the world for keeping them apart, but at least they can send each other cute emojis and hope the other doesn't notice their blossoming feelings.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

__

notes: hi :p im very new to writing on tumblr (but ive always been a reader) so pls bare w me! and im trying to revert back to being 14 (im 23 lols..) so im revisiting my old favs including the maze runner/thomas (bc i binged the artful dodger and now im obsessed again). there will be non-text chapters in the future as well, when everyone eventually meets. this will be newt focused so enjoy !! also everyone is like a realistic age from 23 to 28

__

THE GLADE

[ 7:45 PM ]

alby added minho, y/n, newt, tommy, and gally

alby: Hello, guys.

minho: wtf is this

newt: uhhhh

tommy: hi :3

y/n: so this is why you asked me for my # in private

gally: i didn’t consent to this when i gave you my number

newt: don’t give strange men your number y/n

tommy: oh that’s y/n?

alby: Wait, Newt you had Y/N’s number already??

newt: yea

tommy: o.O

y/n: i gave it to him like two weeks after we met lmao

tommy: SO HE HAD YOUR NUMBER FOR A YEAR AND I DIDNT????

y/n: well he asked and you guys didn’t :p

newt: lmao

minho: ik he smug as fuck rn

not u asking for a girls number lmao simp

newt: stop

y/n: we all talk in discord anyways so i didn’t really think about it

plus you guys are friends irl so idk

it felt kinda weird to insert myself heh

minho: we’ve known you for a year and a half y/n

we play games all the time

call all the time

we even send packages and shit

you’re very much considered our irl friend

y/n: REALLY?? 🥺🥺

tommy: internet friends are real friends 😍❤️

minho: the heart eyes are crazy

but yes dude

newt: of course you’re our close friend. just cuz we live near each other and you’re a bit far away doesn’t mean we don’t adore you

minho: ADORE IS CRAZY LMFAO

but real ig

y/n: AWWWWW YOU GUYS LOVEEE MEEEEEE

hahahahha

HAHAHHAHJFIEKMGOR

I LVOE YOU GIYYYYSSSS IM PUTTING ALL OUR MINECRAFT BEDS TOGETHER LATER

gally: i do not want my bed to be infested by you guys

minho: gally sleeps in the corner

gally: no i dont i sleep in my mansion

y/n: cherry blossom mansion*

gally: and you sleep in a shed

y/n: cherry blossom shed* its pink and that matters.

tommy: love you y/n 😊🥰

y/n: love you tommy <3333

minho: that’s actually nasty stop now

y/n: u mad ur unloved

i love how the gc name is our minecraft town name :((

newt: aw it is

minho: can we talk about why tf this was made when we have a perfectly good discord

alby: I’m done with Discord.

newt: you got your shit hacked didn’t you mate

minho: mate 💀💀

british people so crazy

alby: Yes maybe..

I don’t want to make another.

y/n: or your old ass doesn’t know how to

minho: LMAO REAL

alby: Gonna ignore that. But I am getting too old for it. I have a new promotion at work so that means I won’t have time to play with you guys as much anymore. So I decided to make this groupchat in hopes to talk to you guys more to make up for it :)

minho: every group always has the old head with the job 💀💀

newt: minho admitting he’s jobless

minho: you work at a library be so fr rn

newt: i have an income. you have a room in your grandmas basement. we are not the same.

gally: LMFAOOOOOOO

minho: stfu :////

y/n: AWWWWWWW ALBYYYYYYY

tommy: YAAAY!!!!

im going to text you guys all day

tell you every meal

every thought

every interaction will be meaningful and glorious

newt: you are 24 years old you don’t have to do all that

minho: no fr im turning off my phone if he starts this shit

why not just do it before in the discord ??

tommy: easy access now and i tried before but stopped since no one really replied..

y/n: i say we all do it :D i will too tommy

newt: ok second thought that’s fine

minho: .

gally: that’s wild.

y/n: YAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!! NEWT YOU GO FIRST

newt: first with what

y/n: say what u ate today

newt: didn’t say i’d do it.

tommy: i ate muffin, monster energy drink, and hamburger :3333

you guys next

minho: that’s all you had bro..

y/n: hot cheetos and french fries and coffee :D

minho: ??????? BRO

how are you guys alive

y/n: it's my day off and no class so i just wanna rot in bed and that means no cooking

newt: please eat and drink water.

like for real and document it

y/n: ok wait

there

tommy: yum!

minho: y/n..

newt: cereal does not count

y/n: I DONT HAVE ENERGY TO MAKE ANYTHING OKAY

im a 23 year old broke college student my fridge is bare

newt: alright what do you want?

y/n: wym?

newt: like if you could pick.

minho: that’s so cruel 😭😭 just making her imagine it

i like it go on.

tommy: i want chick fil a

minho: i knew you hate the gays

tommy: I AM THE GAYS?????

y/n: ugh that does sound good

mmmm chickem sandiwh waffle fry I Want that Os mYch

newt: that’s what you would order?

y/n: mmmcm yeahshhhhh

newt: ok

minho: that’s it?

i thought soemthing would happen

tommy: me too

like a spell! magic 🪄

y/n: sigh

my cereal tastes bad now

newt: well it is cocoa puffs.

minho: L cereal

y/n: DTOP SAYING L ITS SO ANNOYITIGJNGGGGG

minho: she so madddd 😂😂 L

newt: you're annoying minho

minho: youre just saying that bc shes saying that

newt: no ive always said it. and i will continue to. youre fucking annoying

minho: who bought you your coffee yesterday

newt: ???

myself

and i paid for yours too

im the one with an income

minho: .

well i didnt think youd remember that well.

newt: it was literally yesterday.

minho: yeah but ur old

newt: IM THE SAME AGE AS YOU

minho: yeah but im 🤗✨ 26 ✨🤗and youre... 26😬😔

tommy: guys stop fighting

newt: we aren't fighting

maybe this gc was a bad idea

tommy: NO!!!!!!!!!

y/n: NOOOO!

tommy: this is like y/n is here w us irl

y/n: awwwwwwwwwwwwwww

minho: no it's not. we would smell a foul stench if she was

y/n: i ahte you sooo bad.

wait there is a knock at my door im scared

newt: answer it

minho: aren't you supposed to say don't open the door for strangers ????

newt: well usually yes

y/n: no im not expecting company

newt: just do it pls

y/n: ok :D

minho: bruh..

i hope she gets robbed and u feel bad forever newt

newt: why would you want that

minho: bc she owes me money

newt: YOU owe ME money

minho: yes but i have a good reason she just wanted robux

tommy: Y/N DONT DO IT!!! I HAVE SEEN DATELINE

y/n: :o....

tommy: Y/N?????????

OH GOD THEY GOT HER

minho: why would she text a silly face if she got got

tommy: clearly its a surprised face

maybe its not her

its like those cut out magazine letters murderers use

y/n: who got me chick fil a!!!!!!!!!!

minho: me

newt: you literally did not

minho: shut up

y/n: newt it was u i see ur name on the receipt

newt: well

y/n: :(

newt: what why are you sad?

minho: im hungry too

y/n: u spent ur money :(

newt: you're hungry are you not?

minho: she's not but i am

y/n: yeah but..

i feel bad you shouldn't have

newt: just eat it or i'll be mad

minho: i think i want red lobster

newt: it's really no big deal y/n

y/n: thank you newt :(((((

newt: you're welcome

go eat and watch ur show or smth

minho: i owuld love to eat and watch a show rn <33 ohhhh im starving

newt: can you shut up

gally: im muting this gc if this means i have to deal with your guys' shit more than usual now.

minho: thank god

newt: good

tommy: good

y/n: good

the food is good too <3

newt: good.

_

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