#well it's been some time since I last studied | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itendtothinkalot · 3 days ago

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just navigating

summary: soobin’s always thought of you as his little sister. but now, things are starting to feel… different. with soobin off studying to become a pilot, the distance only makes things more confusing.

genre: fluff!!! slight angst, not too bad

characters: childhood bestfriend!soobin x f!reader

words: 12.5k

warnings: implied sex but no smut

a/n: kinda based on caleb from lnds bec im obsessed LMFAO ;-;

“Guess who?”

Your vision darkened as two hands gently covered your eyes. The warmth of familiar fingers sent a nostalgic tingle down your spine, and you immediately recognized the tiny calluses on them.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Judging by the lack of moisture in your hands, I’d say it’s a loser.”

A dramatic gasp came from behind you. “Boo, you're no fun.” Soobin removed his hands with an exaggerated sigh before nudging you with his shoulder. “Y’know, I’d assume you’d be happier to see me.” He spun you around so you were facing him, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You hated to admit it, but he looked good—better than when you last saw him. His hair was slightly longer, brushing just above his brows, but still neatly styled like the perfectionist he was. He wore his pilot uniform with effortless confidence—the crisp navy-blue jacket adorned with insignia, gold stripes neatly embroidered on the cuffs, and a pressed white shirt underneath. The matching trousers completed the look, making him appear every bit the disciplined and ambitious aviator he had always dreamed of becoming.

“And why would I be?” You crossed your arms, looking up at your childhood friend, who stood nearly two heads taller than you.

Soobin placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. So cold. Let’s see… The last time we saw each other was a month ago, before your exams. That means the stress is over. You probably missed your favorite person on Earth—me—and now here I am, gracing you with my presence.” He grinned, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “So, I don’t see why you’re not grinning like the peach that you are.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile was already creeping onto your face. “You’re insufferable.”

“Ah, there it is! A smile!” He pointed at you triumphantly. “See? You did miss me.”

You groaned, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled, slinging an arm over your shoulder like old times. “Too late, Kiddo.”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that.” You brushed his arm off your shoulder before narrowing your eyes at him. “Also, why the hell are you here? In your uniform, no less… You’re attracting way too much attention.”

Your gaze flickered around, noticing your schoolmates whispering, gasping, and outright staring. Some pointed in disbelief, eyes wide as they took in the sight of your unfortunately handsome best friend—now made even more infuriatingly attractive in his full pilot uniform.

“I didn’t have time to change if I wanted to pick you up,” he said casually.

“You didn’t have to pick me up.”

“Oh? And who’s gonna drive you home then?”

“I’ve been taking the bus since you left.”

“Don’t say it like I abandoned you.”

You wanted to say but you did, but you swallowed the words instead.

“Alright,” he sighed, nodding. “Fine. Next time, I’ll wear a tank top and jeans when I pick you up. How about that?”

—

On the way back, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. How was work? How was his training? How was—well, how was everything? But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask any of those questions. Still, Soobin knew you well enough.

“I’m okay,” he said, as if reading your thoughts. “I’ll always be okay.” He grinned, his eyes curling into full crescents.

You nodded. “Good. I don’t need the only person in my life to—”

“I won’t.” He ruffled your hair. “C’mon. I’m me. Do you really think something’s gonna—”

“Don’t.” You glared at him.

Soobin, with his towering height, sharp vision, and unshakable determination, had always dreamed of becoming a pilot. Ever since you were kids, he had talked about flying—how he wanted to touch the clouds, how the sky felt like the only place vast enough to hold his ambitions. You had always supported him, picturing him in a crisp commercial pilot’s uniform, announcing flight routes in his deep, steady voice.

But that wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t just want to fly; he wanted to soar. Instead of charting safe routes in passenger planes, he had set his sights on something more dangerous, more demanding. He had signed up to be a fighter pilot—a career that meant grueling training, high-stakes missions, and a future teetering between triumph and risk.

You had argued with him about it before, pleaded with him to reconsider. But Soobin, stubborn as ever, had only grinned and said, “If I’m going to fly, I might as well reach for the impossible, right?”

“Soobin,” You attempted to argue but you knew him better than anyone else. He was just as stubborn as he was perfect.

“I’m gonna be fine and I’m always gonna be beside you. I promise.”

And here he was, right beside you. Just like he promised.

—

The two of you sat at the dinner table, your legs swinging back and forth, occasionally bumping against Soobin’s calves.

“I like what you’ve done with the apartment,” Soobin remarked, glancing around.

“Nothing’s changed.”

“I beg to differ.” He shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth before standing up, making his way toward a single flower sitting in a makeshift vase. He tilted his head, inspecting it with amusement. “And hey, you even buy flowers now.”

“I didn’t get them,” you replied, shrugging. “You know me and flowers… I say it’ll be dead in a few days.”

“Three, max.” He chuckled before giving the flower another once-over, noticing a small tag tied on the stalk of the rose. “Beomgyu?” He turned back to you, raising a brow. “Who’s that?”

“A classmate,” you said casually. “He gave me those flowers for Valentine’s. It’s nothing, really.”

“A boy?” He muttered, his expression shifting as he sauntered over to you. “Kiddo’s all grown up.”

“He’s just a classmate, Soobin.”

You knew better than to admit that Beomgyu had actually shown interest in you. The last time Soobin found out someone had potential feelings for you, the poor boy had shown up to school looking visibly distressed—and nearly teared up every time you so much as glanced at him.

“He gave them to everyone then?” Soobin pressed.

You stayed silent.

"Oh," he smirked, his voice dripping with amusement. "So Kiddo’s got an admirer."

"It’s not like that," you tried to explain, shaking your head. "We just worked together on an assignment, and we did really well. He’s a good guy."

"A good guy," Soobin repeated, nodding slowly. "Not your favorite though, right?"

You laughed, tilting your head at him. "Are you jealous?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kinda, yeah. I’m worried someone’s gonna take my place."

You hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. Rolling your eyes, you kicked his ankle under the table. He groaned, grabbing his leg dramatically.

"As if anyone could replace you," you scoffed. "Look… you’ve been gone for a month, we barely see each other—maybe two weeks total in an entire year—but I’m still wearing the necklace you got me. Every day. Just in case you actually remember me and decide to show up."

His playful demeanor shifted in an instant. His eyes darkened, lips pressing together as he took a step closer.

"Kiddo," he said, voice quieter now. "I do remember you."

"Sure you do."

His jaw clenched, and before you could react, he was moving—slow, deliberate steps closing the space between you.

"Do you think," his voice was low, almost dangerous, "that a single day goes by where I don’t think about you?"

Your breath hitched. The last time he was this serious was when you had accidentally shut off the electricity in the middle of his ranked game. But this was different.

Soobin stopped at the leg of your chair, leaning down until his face was mere inches from yours. His cologne—clean, crisp, a little like rain—filled your senses. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, lingering there just long enough for your pulse to stutter.

"Because if you do," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "you’d be lying to yourself."

"Wh-why so?" Your voice came out weaker than you intended.

He exhaled softly, his hand resting on the back of your chair, effectively trapping you between him and the table.

"You always say you know me better than anyone." His eyes never left yours. "So if you really do… then you’d know just how much this—" he motioned between the two of you, his fingers grazing your wrist "—means to me."

Your heart pounded.

"I think about you before I sleep. When I wake up. When I’m in class. Hell, even when I’m up in the sky."

You swallowed hard, your breath shaky. "That’s… a lot."

"And that’s only half of it." His voice had grown impossibly deep, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your fingers curled into your lap. The tension between you crackled, thick, suffocating. Your lips parted involuntarily, and for a second—just a second—you swore he was about to close the distance.

Then, suddenly, his smile returned, effortlessly lazy.

"But of course," he mused, pulling back just enough to make your chest tighten, "I do think of other things."

Just like that, the moment was gone. The breath you’d been holding escaped in a rush, your head spinning from the heat of it all.

Soobin, ever the tease, just grinned—like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down.

—

When you were nine, lost and alone for the first time, Soobin’s mother took you in. You were angry—at the world, at the circumstances that had ripped you away from everything familiar. And Soobin, a few years older, became the unfortunate target of your fury. You lashed out, pushed him away every time he tried to get close. You hated everything.

But Soobin never stopped trying.

At ten, something shifted. One morning, you woke up feeling just a little less angry. The walls you had built weren’t gone, but they had cracks. That day, for the first time, you ate the bowl of cereal Soobin had prepared for you. It was soggy by the time you finally touched it, but he didn’t care. His grin stretched wide, brighter than the morning sun, because it was the first thing you had accepted from him.

At eleven, you started lingering in his room. You never asked, never said a word, just sat there as he played video games or flipped through a book. He never questioned it. He’d toss you a controller, let you pick the next movie, slide half of his blanket over when the air got too cold.

By twelve, the two of you were inseparable. He was the older brother you never had, the one who understood your silences, who never pried but always stayed. The one who made a home feel a little less lonely.

“Soobin,” you called out, your voice barely above a whisper. The room was dark, shadows stretching across the walls as the faint glow of the streetlights seeped through the curtains. You had just woken up, your hair a tangled mess, your pink pajamas standing out starkly against the dimly lit space. But Soobin wasn’t there.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. “Soobin?” you tried again, a little louder this time.

“Kiddo.”

You jumped at the sudden voice behind you, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. You turned to see him standing by the door, arms crossed, his expression amused. “What’re you doing up so late?”

You felt ridiculous admitting the truth—that the thunder had startled you, that the loud crashes outside had made the emptiness of the room feel unbearable.

“Nothing,” you muttered, hugging your pillow tighter.

Soobin tilted his head, unconvinced. “The thunder scare you?”

You stayed silent, refusing to confirm it, but he knew you too well.

With a small sigh, he walked over and patted the bed. “C’mon. Sleep here.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “What about you?”

He nodded toward the couch in the corner of his room. “I’ll sleep there. It’s fine.”

You hesitated, but the warmth of his presence was comforting. “Are you sure?”

Soobin smiled, the kind of smile that made you feel safe. “Just call my name if you need anything.”

At age 19, when Soobin told you he had been accepted into flight school, it felt like the ground beneath you shifted. You were happy for him, of course, proud even. But the truth was, a deep, overwhelming sense of devastation settled in your chest. Your rock—your anchor—was leaving. The one constant in your life, the person you could always count on, was being pulled away.

He’d be gone for months at a time, and when he came back, it would only be for a few weekends. Maybe a week in total over the span of a year. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you turned away, not wanting to face him. Soobin, standing there in his oversized jacket, the duffel bag slung over his shoulder, looked more like a stranger than the best friend you’d grown up with. You couldn’t bear to watch him leave.

He tapped your shoulder gently, but you shrugged it off, determined to keep your composure. You didn’t want him to see how much it hurt, how much you would miss him.

“I’m fine,” you hiccuped, your voice cracking as you tried to stifle the sobs. But the tears kept coming, breaking through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

Soobin stepped closer, his hand resting gently on your back. “It’ll just be for a few months,” he said softly, his voice steady, though you could hear the weight of his own emotions beneath it. “I’ll come back to you the moment I can.”

But even then, it didn’t feel like enough.

—

There was something unnerving about people who could sleep through anything, even in the midst of a distressing situation. You watched as Soobin—always so unbothered, so calm—drifted off easily, his breathing steady and deep, while you lay wide awake, caught in your own thoughts.

Your relationship with Soobin had always been easy to define—older brother and younger sister. It was simple, comfortable, and familiar. But as the years passed, as you both grew older, the lines started to blur. You had friends with older brothers, but none of them had the same dynamic you shared with Soobin. Sure, Soobin wasn’t your biological brother, but he had always felt like one. And maybe that was part of the problem.

Lately, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed, wondering exactly what your relationship with Soobin was. You could be yourself around him, no question there. But somehow, there was a hesitation now, a wariness. You walked on eggshells, careful of every word, every movement. Always afraid that you might accidentally do something that would make him see you differently—make him find you... well, embarrassing.

But the thing was, it didn’t matter how careful you were. You always ended up embarrassing yourself anyway. Whether it was a slip-up in conversation or a stupid mistake that left you red-faced, it seemed like there was no escaping it. Soobin never made you feel bad for it, though. He never pointed out how awkward you could be. But that only made the moments of embarrassment sting more, because you weren’t sure if he noticed and just didn’t say anything—or if he actually didn’t mind. Or worse, if he didn’t even care at all.

You sighed, burying your face in the pillow. Whatever it was, it was complicated. And tonight, it felt heavier than usual.

—

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You muttered to yourself, standing at the entrance of your campus, staring at the sky as the rain came pouring down in thick sheets. Your bright dress, now damp and clinging to your skin, felt like a cruel joke in the face of nature's wrath. Of all the days to forget your umbrella, it had to be the day the sky opened up like hell itself.

“Need some shade?” A voice broke through your frustration. You turned to find Beomgyu, his familiar grin plastered across his face.

You sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to be stuck in this stupid rain forever. Not to mention, I have about three assignments from Mr. Kang due today.”

“You’re not done?” Beomgyu’s laughter rang out, clearly amused by your predicament.

“No,” you groaned, “I stayed up all night yesterday, playing ranked with someone who wouldn’t let me sleep.” You shot a side-eye at him.

“Weren’t you the one who kept saying, ‘one more! One more!’” Beomgyu teased, nudging you lightly as he stood beside you.

“Actually—”

A throat cleared from in front of you.

You froze, recognizing the deep, familiar voice before you even had the chance to look up. There he was. Soobin. The last time you'd seen him, he had almost kissed you at the dining table, leaving you in a whirlwind of confusion.

And now, there he stood—dressed in his aviator uniform, the same one he’d promised not to wear around your campus. It was a strange mix of familiar and foreign, making your heart skip a beat. In his hand, he held a yellow umbrella, an offering that seemed to make the rain somehow less threatening.

“Soobin,” you blinked, still caught off guard by the unexpected encounter.

“Kiddo,” he said, your nickname slipping from his lips with such bite that it almost felt like a curse, the venom in his tone thick enough to feel.

“Hey, Beom. Why don’t we just catch up next time? I think... I’ll head out with my brother.” You fumbled over the words, the awkwardness of the situation sinking in.

Beomgyu looked between you and Soobin, brows furrowing. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“She doesn’t,” Soobin responded, his voice colder than usual as he tugged at your wrist, pulling you under the shelter of his umbrella and away from Beomgyu’s.

As you walked side by side, the weight of the silence between you and Soobin grew thicker with each step. The rain pelted down around you, but somehow, it only intensified the tension that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Every step you took toward his car felt like it carried an unspoken question hanging in the air, something that neither of you were ready to address.

The usual playful banter, the comfortable teasing, was nowhere to be found. It was just you, him, and the storm.

“Brother,” he repeated, his voice low, a strange edge to it. “Is that what I am?”

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to say, Isn’t that what you are? but you held back. The last thing you wanted was for him to be even angrier than he already was.

“You can’t always barge into my school—” you started, but he cut you off.

“I didn’t barge in. And it’s not like I’m always around. I only get to see you three times a year,” he shot back, frustration clear in his voice.

“And whose fault is that?” You raised your voice, the heat of your own irritation rising.

The words hung in the air between you, charged with the unspoken resentment that had been building for months, maybe even longer. Each sentence felt like it was leading somewhere neither of you were ready to go.

“You don’t think this is driving me crazy?” His voice cracked, the frustration in his tone raw and desperate.

“What?” you asked, unable to understand where he was going.

“This…” He stopped walking, turning to face you fully, his eyes dark with emotion. The rain hammered down on both of you, the world around you drowned in the heavy downpour. “I dread every single time I have to go back to school, but you—" He took a breath, his chest rising and falling as if the words were physically painful. "You don’t understand how hard it is for me, do you?"

You shook your head, fighting the urge to pull away. "Then why’d you have to leave?"

His face softened, but there was still tension, thick and unresolved between you two. “This is my dream, kiddo. I can’t just give it up.”

In your head, when you were rational, you understood him. You knew this was his dream, knew he was doing what he needed for himself. But the irrational part of you—the selfish, bitter part—hated him for leaving you behind.

And right now, that irrational part was winning.

—-

Two months passed, and Soobin kept his promise, making an effort to call you, FaceTime you, and stay connected. His presence, even from miles away, felt constant, like he was always there, right beside you, despite the distance.

“My school’s having an open house next week. Care for a tour?” Soobin’s voice came through the speaker of your phone, his eyes bright as he grinned at you through the screen.

You were getting ready to go out with your friends, carefully applying your makeup, with Soobin’s FaceTime open in the background. Every so often, you'd catch him staring at you. A small smile tugged at your lips as you caught him watching.

“Sounds boring,” you teased, tilting your head as you brushed on mascara.

“C’mon. You finally get to see what I’ve been doing!” he pressed, leaning in closer to the screen. The playful glint in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“A bunch of men in sunglasses, walking around—how’s that fun?” you joked, giving him a look.

“You get to see me,” Soobin grinned, his expression softening as if that was the only reason you’d need.

You paused for a second, the playful tension between you two flickering in the air. Soobin never seemed to shy away from making you smile, and just hearing his voice was a comfort, even if it was through a screen.

“Fine. But what do I get out of this?” you challenged, a smirk playing on your lips.

Soobin’s face lit up, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “I’ll treat you to the best steak dinner in town,” he sang, practically grinning ear to ear.

“Fine.”

—

You tiptoed, scanning the expansive campus before you, feeling like a small fish in an ocean of ivy-covered buildings and sleek modern structures. This wasn’t anything like your school. While your own college had its charm—basic yet cozy—this place was a whole new level. Soobin had told you countless stories about his prestigious flight school, but you hadn’t quite grasped the sheer scale of it until now.

You scratched the back of your head, feeling entirely out of place. The student helper had handed you a map with a bright smile, showing you the way, but now, standing here, all you felt was confusion. The buildings were enormous, towering over you in their stark, polished splendor.

Your eyes scanned the map again, trying to make sense of it. "For Pete's sake," you muttered under your breath, "I'm a marketing major, not a map reader." The arrows, the numbers, the squiggly lines—they all blurred together as you tried to figure out where to go next.

You tilted your head, feeling even more disoriented. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to just follow the crowd and hope they were heading in the right direction, but the thought of getting lost in this campus—alone—didn’t sit well with you. Soobin had warned you it was big, but you had no idea it was this... overwhelming.

With a sigh, you stuffed the map into your bag and made your way toward the nearest building, hoping for some sort of sign. You were here for him, after all, so you might as well try to make the most of it.

“I knew you'd get lost.” You heard Soobin’s voice before you saw him, and when you turned around, he was standing there, hands casually tucked in his pockets, a grin already playing at his lips.

“Soobin!” you exclaimed, rushing toward him without thinking. You jumped into his arms, and before you knew it, his strong arms were securely around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he spun you around with a surprised laugh.

“Whoa there!” Soobin chuckled, his voice low but warm. He adjusted you in his arms, steadying you as you both laughed. “Miss me that much?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you grinned, playfully pretending to look away as if it was no big deal, even though your heart was racing just a little faster from being so close to him.

“Well, I didn’t know our captain had a little girlfriend,” Soobin heard the teasing voice, and as he turned, he spotted his classmate, Yeonjun, casually strolling over with a knowing grin on his face.

Soobin’s cheeks flushed slightly at the comment, and he quickly shifted his gaze back to you, still holding you in his arms. You, in turn, gave him an exaggerated pout, sensing the awkwardness creeping in but unable to hide your playful smile.

"Hey!" Soobin called out, waving at Yeonjun, and then turning to you with a sheepish smile. "Uh, this is Yeonjun, my buddy from school, and this is my..." Soobin trailed off, his words hanging in the air for a moment as he awkwardly fumbled for a way to introduce you.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of his sentence. Your hands still resting on his shoulders, you felt a playful tug at your lips, enjoying the teasing moment.

“Well?” you prompted with a teasing grin, your heart fluttering with excitement.

Soobin let out a small sigh, clearly not expecting the teasing tone in your voice. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing between you and Yeonjun before simply introducing you with just your name.

You smiled, though there was a hint of disappointment in the simplicity of his introduction. It was no surprise, really. After all, things between you and Soobin had never been clear-cut. The bond between the two of you had always felt different than any friendship you’d had before. You weren't sure if it was just the history, the closeness, or something more. And maybe he didn’t either.

But for a moment, you wondered if that was the problem. Maybe Soobin was as unsure as you were about the lines between friendship and something else. You tried to push the thought away, not wanting to make things awkward with his friend or with Soobin, but you couldn't help the way your heart sank a little.

You could feel your cheeks heating up. It was funny, wasn't it? How a few words could stir up so many feelings.

You decided to let it go, brushing it off with a small laugh, not wanting to make things weird. “Well, nice to meet you, Yeonjun,” you said with a smile, even though a small part of you was still wondering what you really meant to Soobin.

—

Soobin was practically beaming as he led you through the bustling campus, introducing you to what seemed like every single person he passed. You were taken aback by how popular he was—lecturers waving at him from across the hall, students stopping to chat, and even the cafeteria lady greeting him by name.

As he continued to show you around, he gestured toward a large open area ahead of you. Your eyes widened in awe as you saw rows of jets and small planes lined up, gleaming in the sunlight.

“And this is, of course, where the magic happens,” Soobin said.

You stood in awe, unable to hide your excitement. "This is so cool. I had no idea it would be this... massive," you said, still taking it all in.

Then, with that mischievous glint in his eyes, Soobin shot you a confident smirk. "Wanna see me go for a spin?" he asked, clearly enjoying the attention his world was getting from you.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden offer. “Is that allowed?” you asked, your voice almost timid as you tried to understand the logistics of what he was suggesting.

Soobin waved off your concern with a casual shrug, the cocky grin still firmly in place. “Yeah, I just gotta make sure the control tower knows what’s up.” He nodded.

You laughed nervously, but the thrill of being with Soobin in his element started to take over. “Alright, Mr. Confident. Show me what you got.” You crossed your arms, trying to look more composed than you felt, but your heart was racing.

Soobin's world was so far beyond anything you had ever imagined, and yet, somehow, being here with him made everything feel... a little more exciting.

“Soobin, what are you—” you started to ask, but he was already pulling you toward one of the planes, his grip firm but gentle on your wrist.

“C’mon,” he urged with a playful smile. “Just sit here and wear this. It’s gonna get… a little loud.” He handed you a pair of large headphones, the kind you might wear at a concert or a race track, and gently placed them on your head before you could protest.

You adjusted the thick, padded ear covers, feeling a bit out of place but oddly excited. "Loud? What do you mean by loud?" you asked, eyeing him skeptically, though the thrill was starting to build inside you.

With a grin, Soobin gave you a wink. “Trust me, you’ll see,” he said, giving you one last reassuring squeeze on your wrist before heading to the cockpit.

You watched as he climbed into the plane, his movements smooth and confident. He looked like someone born to be up there, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else, just taking in the sight of him preparing for takeoff.

“Ready to feel the wind?” Soobin called out, his voice barely audible but still full of that familiar playful tone.

You gave him a thumbs up, a nervous smile tugging at your lips. “I guess I am now!”

The engine roared to life, vibrations running through the ground as the plane’s power surged forward, filling the air with an electric buzz. The noise was deafening, and the plane’s tires rolled across the runway, lifting off into the sky with incredible speed.

There he was, soaring higher and higher, the once small figure on the ground now a speck in the vast expanse above you. The excitement in your chest bloomed as you watched, a mix of awe and pride flooding over you. Soobin was up there, living his dream, and you could only watch.

As you watched him soar higher into the sky, your chest swelled with pride. The frustration, the anger, all the times you had felt hurt by his absence seemed so small now, like distant memories fading in the vastness of the present moment. Watching him take off, you realized something: those petty arguments, those moments of selfishness, they didn’t matter anymore.

“I’m really proud of you,” you said, speaking into the headphones as if the words might somehow reach him in the air. You meant it with every ounce of your being.

Through the muffled sound, Soobin’s voice came back, light but filled with warmth. “You are?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I am.”

You didn’t know if he could hear the emotion in your voice, but it didn’t matter. He had always known how you felt, even when words were hard to come by.

—

“Do you really have to go back so soon?” Soobin’s voice carried a mix of reluctance and something deeper, something unspoken.

You glanced at your phone and sighed. “Soobin, you have class at 5, and it’s already 4:30. I’ve overstayed my welcome. The open house ended two hours ago. It’s time for me to go.”

“Where’s your hotel? I’ll come see you after my training,” he offered quickly, his words almost spilling out too fast, as if he were trying to find a way to keep you here longer.

You gave him a small, understanding smile. “Doesn’t your training end at night?”

“It’s only two hours, I’ll be done by 8 at the latest,” he replied, his voice sounding more desperate, though he tried to mask it with that confident tone you were so used to.

You shook your head softly, though your heart fluttered at his insistence. “Then you should get some rest. You have that flying test tomorrow, and I don’t want to be the reason you’re too tired to focus—”

“You sound like you’re trying to get rid of me,” Soobin muttered, a sigh slipping from his lips, though there was a clear sadness in his voice that made your heart ache.

“Trust me, that’s the last thing on my mind,” you said quickly, your voice soft but sincere. “I just want you to be safe, sound, and well-rested. You’re only half a year away from graduating. You need to ace this test, Soobin. You’ve got to be the best.”

“Fine. You’re right,” Soobin sighed again, but this time, there was an underlying weight to his words. He took a step closer to you, his gaze softening as his eyes lingered on your face. It was almost as if he wanted to say more, something deeper, something that was building between the two of you.

You could see it in the way he looked at you, the way his lips parted slightly, as though he was debating whether to kiss you then and there. But instead, he pulled back, running a hand through his hair in frustration, as if trying to push away the overwhelming emotions he was feeling.

“Alright. I’ll rest. But... I’ll miss you, you know,” Soobin added quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, a warmth spreading through your chest. “I’ll miss you too, Soobin. Just take care of yourself. You’ve got this.”

–

At the hotel, you paced around, your thoughts tangled in a mess of emotions. It was your last night in town, and as much as you tried to enjoy the moments you had left, something gnawed at you. You missed Soobin. You craved more of those quiet, private moments with him, just the two of you.

The selfish thoughts crept in again. You thought about how he was always the one picking you up from school, how he was always there for you when you needed him. But now, you wanted to do something for him. You wanted to surprise him. Maybe, just maybe, you could be the one to pick him up for once. He deserved it.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your jacket, quickly dashing through the hotel lobby. The buzz of the night was fading around you as your heart raced with the urgency of the impulse.

“Taxi!” you called, waving your hand for the nearest one.

The cab pulled over, and you hopped in without a second thought. It was impulsive, reckless even, but you didn’t care. Tonight, you were going to make sure he knew how much you cared, how much you wanted to be there for him—just like he had always been for you.

You knew Soobin took the bus to his rented apartment across town from his school, so you waited at the bus stop for him.

A few kids stood beside you, their laughter filling the air as they played with a strange contraption you couldn't quite identify. It looked like some kind of toy, and every minute or so, you could hear them squealing with excitement. It was adorable. For a moment, it reminded you of you and Soobin—the way you both would joke around and get lost in your little world.

“Hey, do you think I can be a pilot when I grow up?” the boy asked, gesturing toward the school in front of you.

“Sure, if you magically had good eyesight,” the girl giggled, flicking his glasses.

“That’s not very nice!” the boy pouted, clearly offended.

“I’m kidding! I just don’t want you to go. My mummy says that if you go to flight school, you’ll have to stay here for almost three years. You can’t leave me!” the girl yelled, her tone playful but filled with sincerity.

“I won’t! You’re my friend!” the boy reassured her.

“Friend?” she asked with a dramatic pause.

“Okay, fine. Best friend. But I have lots of best friends. One of them can draw really well, and another one can run really fast,” the boy bragged, puffing out his chest.

“You’re not the only one with many friends. I have one too! A friend who can do a backflip! So I think my friend’s definitely cooler than yours!” the girl argued confidently.

“Nuh-uh,” the boy shot back.

“Yuh-huh!” the girl retorted, sticking her tongue out.

“MISS!” Both kids suddenly turned and looked at you in unison, startling you.

You blinked in surprise, eyes widening. “Huh?”

“Can you please tell us whose best friend you think is the coolest?” they both asked, their little eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Just as you were about to answer, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“What are you doing here?” Soobin’s voice rang out, and you turned to see him standing there, looking both surprised and slightly out of breath. His uniform clung to his sweaty body, his hair tousled from a long day’s work. Despite it all, he looked… really good.

“Surprise!” you smiled, the excitement bubbling inside you at the sight of him.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, and then his lips curved into a smile as he took in the scene—the two kids staring at you, waiting for an answer, and you standing there, grinning like you were up to something mischievous.

“Well, now I’m curious too,” he chuckled, his voice softening as he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving you. The tension between you two seemed to fill the air as he stood there, waiting for you to respond to the kids’ question. “Who has the coolest best friend?”

Your eyes flicked from top to bottom, taking in Soobin as if you were seeing him for the first time. He was a pilot, for Pete’s sake. A damn pilot who looked like he belonged in a magazine. The way his uniform clung to his body, the way his disheveled hair still made him look effortlessly perfect—it made your heart ache in ways you couldn’t explain.

And then, beyond all the looks, there was everything else.

He was the one who cooked for you when you were hungry (even if it wasn’t the greatest, you appreciated the effort). The one who would call you every time a thunderstorm rolled in just to make sure you could sleep through the noise. He was the one who ordered food for you during exam weeks when you’d forget to eat, completely consumed by your studies.

Soobin was the kind of person who thought of you before himself, every single time. And as you stood there, watching him, it hit you just how lucky you were to have him in your life. But it also left you wondering why you had been so reluctant to admit it.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to tell us whose best friend is cooler?” the little boy’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, his eager gaze pulling you back to reality.

You blinked, a small laugh escaping your lips as you glanced between Soobin and the kids. There was no contest. “Well, I think,” you paused, locking eyes with Soobin. “My best friend is definitely the coolest.”

The girl rolled her eyes, crossing her arms with an exaggerated sigh. “You’re just saying that because he’s handsome,” she muttered, clearly unimpressed.

“Oh please, my best friend’s a pilot—that’s way cooler than whatever you’ve got going on!” you shot back, sticking your tongue out at her.

The boy gasped dramatically, pointing at you. “You’re a grown woman fighting a child!” he accused, his finger still aimed in your direction.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning mock offense. “I’ll have you know, I’m just a grown woman with excellent taste.” You turned to Soobin, who was standing there, slightly amused by the whole interaction. "Don’t worry, they’re just jealous."

The kids both groaned in unison, clearly giving up on the argument. They turned away, muttering something about how unfair the world was.

“You’re such a loser.” Soobin laughed.

—

"So, this is your bachelor pad?" you asked, glancing around the apartment as you took it all in. The black and white decor was sleek and minimalist, just like Soobin himself. It was everything you'd imagined, yet still somehow more.

You hadn’t seen this place in person before, only catching glimpses of it through his Facetime calls. But now, it was real—and you were here.

Soobin had been quiet ever since the bus stop. You didn’t think much of it. He was probably just tired.

"I can cook dinner for you!" you offered, standing up from the couch, eager to do something.

But before you could take a step, Soobin reached out and pulled you back down, making you sit beside him again.

"Huh?" you blinked, confused by the sudden action. "You okay?"

He nodded slowly, but his eyes were heavy, his exhaustion evident. He reached up, his hand gently cupping your cheek before sliding through your hair.

You froze as his face came closer to yours. For a moment, you didn’t quite understand what was happening. But then, your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized. Your heart started to race, and you felt the weight of his presence more than ever before.

"Soobin?" you whispered, voice barely a sound.

"You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured, his voice low and rough. His gaze dropped to your lips, and his thumb brushed gently across them, sending a shiver through your body. "You have no idea how much I want you."

"Soobin?" The whisper left your lips again, barely audible, as you looked up into his eyes, searching for something—clarity, maybe. You weren’t sure.

His hand tightened its hold on your hair, pulling you closer. His breath was warm against your skin, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“I’ve been wanting this for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper, but it felt like the heaviest thing you’d ever heard. His fingers trailed down your jaw, before resting on your neck, gently tracing the curve.

"Soobin..." your voice was barely a breath, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but your body knew. His face was so close now, his lips hovering just above yours.

But before anything could happen, Soobin fell back into the couch, his eyes shutting, his body sinking with a soft exhale. The tension in the air seemed to evaporate, replaced by a quiet exhaustion you hadn’t noticed before.

You froze, caught off guard. Soobin's chest rose and fell steadily, his body heavy with the weight of the day.

You sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. His hand still rested near your face, but his focus was elsewhere now. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed deeply, clearly drained.

"Soobin?" You tried shaking him gently, your voice soft, but he didn’t stir.

He was asleep. Fully asleep. The weight of the day must've finally caught up with him. You let out a small chuckle, watching the way he looked so peaceful, the kind of tiredness that only came after giving so much of himself.

—

The next morning came with a jarring sound. You jolted awake as loud pans clattered together, and your eyes quickly flicked to the kitchen.

"Soobin?" You called out groggily.

"Shit, did I wake you?" His voice floated back to you, and you spotted him shirtless, moving around the kitchen with a slight sense of chaos in the air.

A part of you wanted to shield your eyes, but another part of you couldn’t help but appreciate the sight. You quickly turned away, reminding yourself that this was Soobin.

"Kinda," you muttered, still avoiding his gaze.

"I was just gonna make you some eggs before you head back to the city," he said, nonchalant, like the situation was completely normal.

You nodded, still looking away, eyes glued on the floor. "Oh."

You heard him chuckle softly as his footsteps grew louder, and then his large palm was suddenly resting on top of your head. You stiffened, feeling the warmth of his touch.

"Something on the floor, kiddo?" Soobin teased, his voice light. "I can put a shirt on if you like."

"It’s okay. It’s your house. I’m just a guest," you mumbled, your voice small as you tried to hide the way your heart was racing from the proximity.

"You’re not even looking at me," he continued, playful.

“It’s not my fault you're walking around half-naked in the apartment–” You looked up, intending to be annoyed, but your words died as you met his gaze, realizing how close your faces were. The air between you felt charged, and your eyes briefly flicked to his abs — defined, sculpted, distracting — before your face turned beet red.

“Cover up,” you muttered quickly, reaching for his shirt and tossing it to him.

He caught it with a grin, but didn’t immediately put it on, still teasing you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. "What’s the rush, kiddo? It’s just me."

You could barely manage a glare, your hands fumbling awkwardly in your lap. "Just... put it on," you repeated, your voice quieter this time.

As you sat on his dining table, you swung your legs, nudging his ankles with yours.

“You still do this?” he said, glancing at you.

“Huh?” you replied, not fully realizing what you were doing.

“Swinging your feet,” he mumbled, glancing at your legs.

“Oh right,” you quickly stopped, suddenly self-conscious.

“I wasn’t complaining,” Soobin said with a small chuckle. “In fact, I kinda miss it. Do you remember how much Mom used to scold you for that?”

You nodded with a smirk. “And you didn’t help when you constantly complained about it to her!”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, someone had to take the fall. It wasn’t like you were going to stop on your own.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Right, like you were any better. Always tattling on me.”

Soobin laughed softly. “I wasn’t tattling. I was just... helping Mom keep track of your chaos.”

“I wasn’t that bad!” you protested, though you both knew that wasn’t entirely true. You both had your moments as kids.

“You were always full of energy,” he said with a fond smile. “But I think I miss that. The energy, I mean. Things were simpler back then, weren’t they?”

You paused, the weight of his words settling in. “Yeah... simpler,” you echoed, realizing he was right. Those moments, despite the annoyance at the time, had a kind of warmth to them that you missed.

Soobin glanced at you, his expression softening. "You know, you’re still my little sister, right? Even if you’ve changed a lot, I’ll always see you like that."

You looked up at him, a swirl of emotions swirling in your chest. "I know," you said quietly, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

It was funny—little sister. The words rang in your ears, and though they should’ve comforted you, they did something else entirely. You’d always taken comfort in his protective nature, his constant care, but today, the familiar title struck a chord inside you. Little sister. The term felt almost too distant now. A part of you realized, maybe for the first time, that you didn’t want to be just his little sister anymore. Maybe that wasn’t the role you wanted to play in his life.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing down at the table. “I guess I’m still that little kid to you, huh?” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

Soobin’s lips twitched, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Always will be,” he said, his voice playful but with an undertone of warmth.

But as you sat there across from him, something shifted inside of you. You weren’t sure exactly when it happened, but in that moment—sitting at his dining table, surrounded by the comfort of the past—you realized something that made your heart race a little faster. It wasn’t just the memories, the shared history, that made you feel so drawn to him. It wasn’t just because you’d always seen him as the older brother who took care of you.

No, there was something more. Something deeper.

The realization hit you like a wave, and you almost choked on your breath. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, looking anywhere but at him. But you couldn’t shake the truth from your mind.

You looked up at him again, but this time, it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t look at him and think of him as just Soobin, your older brother. There was an undeniable pull between you that made your heart ache with confusion, longing, and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t get it.” You felt something stirring in your chest, that uncomfortable mix of desire and confusion. “You call me your little sister…”

“Soobin looked up, brow furrowed. “Hm?”

“You call me your little sister. But we’ve kissed.” you continued, your voice tinged with frustration. You let out a bitter laugh, trying to hide how vulnerable you felt. “How is that… how does that work?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. The questions were swirling in your mind, and you couldn't stop them from spilling out. "I just—" You stopped yourself, realizing how tangled your feelings had become. You didn’t want to push him away, but you also didn’t want to continue pretending that there was nothing more than what you thought you had.

Soobin watched you closely, his expression softening. “Isn’t that what you want to be?” His voice was quieter now, more sincere.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

"Isn’t that what you want to be?” Soobin repeated, his gaze searching yours. “That’s what you called me…when Beomgyu was there.”

You stayed quiet, knowing what he had said was true.

Soobin’s expression shifted, his eyes searching yours. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging between you both.

“So, what are we then?” His voice was barely a whisper, as if he feared saying the wrong thing.

You swirled your spoon around the oatmeal Soobin had made for you, the warm steam rising as you avoided looking directly at him. You were just as afraid of saying something wrong—afraid you might ruin everything. The delicate balance of the relationship you two had built, the connection you shared.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I like you. More than I should. You’re not my brother. And I don’t want you to be.”

—

The door slammed open, and there stood Soobin, eyes wild with something you couldn’t quite place. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly pulled away from Kai, one of your neighbours friends, the tension in the room thickening in an instant.

Soobin glared at Kai, and it was like a switch flipped inside of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he spat, his voice low and filled with an emotion that stung.

Kai, clearly startled by Soobin's intense reaction, scrambled to get up. “I—I wasn’t doing anything. I swear, we were just—uh, talking—”

“Talking?” Soobin sneered, his eyes darkening with jealousy. “You think I’m stupid?”

You stared, frozen, watching as Kai stumbled over his words, trying to explain himself. But Soobin didn’t let him.

“I don’t want you here. Leave.” His voice was firm, and even though it was directed at Kai, the words cut deeper than they should.

Kai, terrified now, stood up quickly, nodding vigorously. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” He turned and practically bolted out of the room, leaving you alone with Soobin, your blood boiling.

You stared at Soobin, unable to find the words for a moment, but then you exploded. “What the hell, Soobin? Are you really that possessive of me?”

“I’m not being possessive! I’m just trying to protect you,” Soobin snapped back, but you could see the way his fists were clenched, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Protect me? From what? Him? I can protect myself, Soobin!”

Soobin took a deep breath, clearly struggling with his emotions. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “Guys... guys always have screwed-up intentions.”

Your eyes widened with frustration. “Aren’t you a guy?” you spat, your anger rising with each word.

Soobin froze. His expression faltered, and he was silent for a moment, looking at you like he was trying to process what you had just said. His face hardened.

“I’m your brother,” he finally said, his voice gruff.

“No, you’re not, Soobin,” you snapped. “We don’t even have the same parents. I’m only here because I was left alone.”

Soobin looked like you slapped him. His fists clenched tighter, and his jaw tightened. “Alone? What am I then? A doll?”

The words hit harder than you expected, and it stung more than you wanted to admit. You glared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “You’re being annoying, and you can’t stand to see me happy, can you?”

Soobin’s face turned red, and he took a step closer, towering over you. His voice cracked with frustration. “Can’t stand to see you happy? Every. Single. Day, I spend my life trying to make you happy. Can’t you see that?”

You knew he was right. You knew he was always trying to make you happy, but you couldn’t let him win. Not now. Not like this.

“Whatever,” you muttered, turning to leave his room. But before you could even step away, Soobin spun you around, his hand gripping your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your breath caught in your throat as his hand pressed against the wall beside you, his body dangerously close.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he said, his voice harsh, but there was something more behind it. It was almost like he was giving you one last chance to run.

You opened your mouth to protest, to push him away, but your words died on your tongue. The air was thick between you, and before you could even register what was happening, his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was rough, heated with months of tension, with everything unspoken between you. It was a kiss that demanded something—something you didn’t know how to respond to. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his grip on you firm, like he was afraid you would disappear if he let go.

Your heart raced, your body frozen between wanting to push him away and pull him closer. Your mind screamed at you to stop, to break free, but you were too lost in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Soobin pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. He didn’t say anything at first. Neither of you did. It was like you were both waiting for the storm to pass.

And maybe it would, or maybe it wouldn’t. But you knew one thing for sure now: everything had changed.

—-

Four years had passed since that day, since Soobin had left for flight school. You’d buried the memory deep, locked it away like a secret too dangerous to acknowledge. After all, how could you look him in the eye again after that moment? The kiss. The way his lips had felt against yours, as if the whole world had shifted in that one breathless instant.

Kai had been a distraction, maybe. Or perhaps he had been a way for you to cope with Soobin’s impending absence, a rebellion against something you didn’t know how to deal with. After all, Soobin had been your anchor, your family, your “older brother” — until he wasn’t. Until he’d crossed that line, and left you hanging in a way you didn’t know how to understand.

You never brought it up to him. You couldn’t. How could you, when the next morning, Soobin acted like nothing had happened? He was back to being your “older brother,” carrying on like it was just another regular day. As if he hadn’t just kissed you like that, like it was nothing. And so, you pretended too. You pretended it was normal. You pretended like you hadn’t spent days afterward replaying that moment in your head, each time wondering what it meant, what it had been.

—-

The silence between the two of you was deafening. After breakfast, Soobin hadn’t uttered a single word. He was lost in his own thoughts, and it felt like the air between you had thickened, each unspoken word hanging in the space between you both.

You quickly excused yourself, heading to the shower in an attempt to clear your mind. The hot water didn’t wash away the discomfort, though. It only seemed to magnify the embarrassing tension that still lingered. You couldn’t even look at him without feeling the weight of your confession bearing down on you. You had told him everything — that you liked him, more than you should — and now he was just… silent.

When you finished, you grabbed your things, stuffing them into your bag a little more aggressively than you intended. You were angry, frustrated, and honestly just tired of the awkwardness.

Soobin hadn’t spoken to you since you’d laid it all out there. Not even a simple acknowledgment of what you’d said, what you’d put yourself through. It was as if it had never happened. And it made you want to scream.

“Asshole,” you muttered to yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

You couldn’t stay here. Not with him acting like a mute pilot. You didn’t need his silence, didn’t need the awkward tension that came with it. It was too much. You couldn’t handle it.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard the faintest rustle of movement behind you. You spun around, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but he was still there, standing by the couch, looking like he was trying to find something to say. But of course, nothing came out.

“Really, Soobin?” you snapped, your voice cracking slightly. "You’re not going to say anything? Not even after everything?"

Your hand reached for the doorknob, shame settling in your chest, when, just as you were about to leave, Soobin suddenly stood up, rushing toward you. In a flash, he locked you between the wall and his arms, trapping you.

“How could I possibly put into words how much I’ve loved you and yearned for you?” His voice was strained, raw, like every word was fighting to break free.

You froze, your breath caught in your throat. This was the moment you’d been waiting for, yet it felt as though time had stopped. The tension between you both was thick, suffocating almost, but there was something undeniable in the way he looked at you — something that made your heart race despite the anger and confusion swirling inside you.

“What?” you whispered, your voice trembling with the mix of emotions you couldn’t quite sort through.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it for so long,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours, “but I don’t know how to make it make sense. I don’t know how to explain how much I’ve wanted you — wanted this — without completely screwing it all up.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his body close to yours, his breath hot against your skin. You wanted to pull away, to push him out of your personal space, but something held you there. Something inside of you, a pull that you couldn’t deny.

“Then why... why didn’t you say anything before?” You could feel the frustration rising in you, mixing with the vulnerability of his confession.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice low. “Scared that it would ruin everything — everything we have. I never wanted to make things weird, especially not with you. But I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel this way.”

You swallowed hard, your eyes desperately searching his, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions swirling inside you. Was this real? You wanted to understand, to make it all make sense, but you were lost in the intensity of the moment.

“You’re my brother, Soobin,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of what you were trying to deny. “You can’t just—”

But he interrupted you, his voice steady yet filled with raw emotion. “But I’m not. We’re not siblings. You came into my life like a whirlwind, and now... now you’ve completely changed everything. I think about you every night, every night. How the hell am I supposed to put all this... all these emotions, these feelings, into words when nothing... nothing in the dictionary can explain how much I feel for you?”

His face was inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his presence consuming you. It was as though the air between you both had thickened, each word hanging in the space like a confession, unspoken yet loud in its silence.

“Soobin...” You whispered, your heart hammering in your chest, trying to find something to say, something to stop this, but you were rendered speechless by the intensity in his eyes.

“You—” His voice dropped, thick with emotion, his breath shallow. “You, who flipped my world upside down. You, who I can’t ever stop thinking about, even when I try.” He closed the gap between you, his lips so close you could almost feel them on your skin. “You, who took my first kiss.”

Your pulse quickened, and your chest tightened. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to step away, but you couldn’t. His words were pulling you in, drawing you closer despite the storm inside you. The tension between you was almost unbearable, the words unsaid, but felt deeply in the space that separated you both.

“Soobin,” you gasped, your voice cracking. “This... this isn’t... we can’t.”

But his eyes locked onto yours, unrelenting. “We can. If you’d just let me show you.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it held so much weight, so much desire. He moved just enough to make your breath catch, his body a breath away from yours. The space between you was nonexistent now.

You could feel the heat radiating between the two of you, the space narrowing as Soobin's breath mixed with yours. His hands, firm yet gentle, found their way to your wrists, pulling your arms above your head and locking them there. His eyes were searching yours, his lips barely a breath away.

Without a word, his lips pressed against yours, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. But then, as if something within him snapped, the kiss deepened. It was slow, deliberate, and all-encompassing. His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer, while your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

You felt the world tilt, as though everything in your life had led to this exact moment. The warmth of his lips, the pressure of his body against yours, made you forget everything else.

Soobin pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for breath. “I don’t want to stop,” he whispered, voice low and hoarse.

You couldn’t even respond. Your heart was racing, your thoughts a blur. The emotions flooding your chest were overwhelming, but one thing was certain—there was no turning back now.

He slowly guided you toward the bedroom, still holding you close.

—

It had been hours since the two of you went to bed. You slowly woke up, peeking under the blanket and realizing what had transpired between you two. "Oh," you murmured, quickly looking away. Your eyes landed on Soobin, who was lying beside you in nothing but the sheets, his back turned.

You glanced at the clock beside you. It had been two hours since your class started, and you were in a completely different city now. One day of missed classes wouldn’t be the end of the world, but your grades? You weren’t sure.

In a panic, your hand reached for your phone to text Beomgyu and ask him to take notes for you. But before you could, you felt Soobin’s eyes on you.

"Texting another guy when we’ve just done it is crazy," he said, his voice deep with a touch of teasing.

You stiffened, quickly responding, "I’m making sure I don’t fail."

Soobin chuckled, his lips lightly pressing against your bare shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine. "You can’t text a Cassandra or a Layla or something? Why does it have to be Beomgyu?"

"Because he’s my friend," you muttered, flustered.

A playful, almost possessive glint flashed in Soobin's eyes. "Right…a friend…" he said, his voice low and teasing as his arms pulled you closer.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed. "Okay, okay. I get it. You’re jealous." You leaned in to kiss his cheek, a gesture of reassurance.

But then, as if to make it right, you softly placed your hand on his chest. "You know, you should really go to class. You need to keep your grades up too, Mr. Pilot."

Soobin pouted slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "I don’t want to go to class without you," he grumbled.

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. "Well, I can’t exactly go now can I?" you teased, pushing him toward the edge of the bed.

"Fine," Soobin said with a heavy sigh, pretending to be put out but the smile on his lips was unmistakable. "But only because you told me to."

"Good," you said, kissing his cheek once more. "Now go, and maybe I’ll make it up to you later."

As he reluctantly stood up, his expression softened. "You owe me, but I’m gonna let you off the hook for now. Go crush your class, alright?"

You grinned, still a little flushed from everything, but feeling lighter now. "I will," you said confidently. "Now go. You’re going to be late."

—-

A few hours later, you had texted Soobin, explaining that you really needed to get back to the city. You had an exam the next week, and your days had been nothing short of a whirlwind with him.

You could almost hear the disappointment in his response when he begged you to stay at least until he got back from his flying test. “Just a little longer, please?” The text read, filled with sincerity and a subtle plea that tugged at your heart.

You sighed, knowing you'd just barely make it in time, but… after everything that had happened, after last night, you found yourself missing him more than usual. The way his presence had wrapped around you in a way that felt so familiar, so right. You weren’t sure if you were even ready to leave just yet.

Tapping your phone screen, you typed back, “Okay, but only because you’re being so insistent. I’ll stay until you’re back.”

His reply was quick, almost instantly: “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

You smiled at the screen, feeling your chest warm at the thought of him. You hadn't expected everything to feel so natural, so different, so good with him, and yet here you were, tangled in the very emotions that made you hesitate to leave.

—

As you waited for Soobin to come home, you decided to cook him his favorite dinner. You weren’t exactly a master chef, but you were determined to try your best. You chopped vegetables, stirred sauces, and even got a little flour on your cheek from the bread you had attempted to bake. It was a mess, but you figured it would be worth it when Soobin walked through the door. You smiled at the thought of his face lighting up at the effort you put in.

The clock ticked away, and you nervously adjusted the plates on the dining table, glancing at the meal you had prepared. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but you hoped it would be enough. You had tried. That had to count for something, right?

You heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps approaching. Then the familiar sound of Soobin’s voice calling out your name.

“I’m home!”

You quickly wiped your hands on your apron and rushed to greet him, just as he walked into the living room, still in his uniform.

As soon as Soobin walked through the door in his little pilot uniform, you couldn’t help yourself. He looked so good in it—too good. The crispness of the outfit, the way it clung just enough to show off his figure, the way his hair was perfectly messy as if he had just stepped out of a daydream. You immediately found yourself glued to his side, your body instinctively leaning against him as he entered.

Your hand rested on his arm, almost possessively, as if you needed to keep him close. You hadn’t realized how clingy you were being until Soobin, looking slightly confused, glanced at you with raised brows. “Hey, what’s with you today? You’re unusually handsy,” he teased.

You paused, your hand still resting on his arm, your fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his uniform. It wasn’t just that you missed him or that you were excited to have him home—it was something about the uniform itself. You suddenly realized that maybe it wasn’t just the comfort of his presence that was making you cling to him so tightly. You could feel your chest tighten as you looked at him.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, but then it clicked. His uniform. That was it. You shifted uncomfortably as the realization dawned on you.

Soobin’s eyes widened as he caught on. “Wait a second... you’re being extra clingy because of the uniform?”

You couldn’t hide your embarrassment, and your cheeks flushed a deep red. You averted your gaze, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “Maybe…”

He chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing your hair away from your face, though his expression still held a hint of confusion. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

But then it hit him—that moment when he pieced it all together. He wasn’t just an adorable sight in the uniform; it was the fact that you felt possessive of him, protective, maybe even a little jealous.

“Wait, is this why you hate it when I wear this to pick you up from school?” He continued, stepping a little closer to you, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. “It’s because you don’t like the idea of other girls looking at me.”

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling exposed. You didn’t want to admit it, but there was no denying it. “Maybe,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Soobin’s gaze softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked up at him, the conflict in your heart still there, but it eased just a little at the tenderness in his eyes. He really didn’t get it, did he? The fact that you couldn’t bear the thought of sharing him. It wasn’t about other girls; it was about how much you needed him for yourself.

“I know. But still,” you muttered, not quite ready to let go of your insecurities just yet.

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side, his warm embrace comforting you more than you expected. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll stop wearing it outside the house,” he teased, but there was no teasing in his voice—just pure affection.

You snuggled closer, burying your face in his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can wear it whenever you want… just… maybe not when you’re picking me up from school.”

Soobin laughed softly, “That’s how I feel every time you walk out of the house.”

“Really?” You rolled your eyes.

“Walking out like that, looking naturally cute, is a heart attack waiting to happen,” Soobin said, his voice almost too serious.

You laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not! You don’t see the stares you get outside?” Soobin sighed.

“No, I don’t, because when we’re out together, I only see you,” you teased.

“All these sugary words, you do know we’re still not dating, right?” Soobin said, raising an eyebrow.

You crossed your arms. “Doesn’t this morning count? I lost my—”

“I still haven’t asked you out, though,” Soobin interrupted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Okay, go ahead, ask me.”

“Like this? With me in my work uniform and you in a dirty apron?”

“There’s no better timing. Besides, I’d say yes to anything if you ask me in your uniform.”

“Oh, so that’s how I’ll get you to agree with me now?” Soobin grinned.

“Not everything. I still have a conscience and morality.”

“You do now?”

“Mhm,” you nodded playfully.

“Okay then,” he said, pulling you closer. “Wanna be my girlfriend?”

“That’s so lame.”

Soobin chuckled, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you even closer. “What’s so lame about it?”

“You’ve got this serious, pilot face, and then you hit me with ‘Wanna be my girlfriend?’” You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your lips. “You could’ve at least tried to make it more dramatic or something.”

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I see how it is. You want the grand, swoon-worthy proposal, huh?”

“Something like that,” you teased, leaning into him.

Soobin smiled, his grip tightening around you as he leaned in close. “Well, if you want drama…” He paused, eyes locking with yours, the air between you thick with tension. “How about this?”

Before you could react, Soobin leaned in and kissed you softly, but with a touch of urgency that left you breathless. When he pulled back, he looked into your eyes, a playful smile on his lips. “Now, will you be my girlfriend?”

You were stunned for a moment, your heartbeat racing. “Okay, fine. Yes,” you said with a laugh, feeling your cheeks flush. “But don’t get used to the cheesy lines.”

“I’ll take it,” he said with a grin, his voice full of satisfaction. “Guess that means we’re officially together now.”

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling back. “Guess we are.”

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finchyclarkemd · 1 day ago

Text

Between Us

~Angst/Smut~

You had known George since university. He had been your anchor—your best friend through years of exams, late-night study sessions, and questionable life choices. You had been through everything together, no one knew you better than he did. When he introduced you to his friend group after graduation, you didn’t think much of it at first. But then you met Chris.

Chris was the kind of guy who walked into a room and made it feel smaller, like gravity bent toward him. He was confident, always teasing, always flashing that easy smile. You liked him immediately—which was exactly why you had spent the last few months doing everything possible to bury those feelings. There was no way he’d ever feel the same. George, on the other hand, had always been by your side. He was warm, steady, dependable. It never once crossed your mind that he might look at you differently than you looked at him—until lately.

Lately, there had been a shift. A weight in his glances, a hesitation in his words. You couldn’t quite place it, and honestly, you didn’t want to. Not when every time Chris so much as brushed past you, your heart went into cardiac arrest.

It was supposed to be a casual night out—a group hangout at a bar, nothing unusual. But something in the air felt off. George was quieter than usual, and Chris… well, Chris had been watching you. Not in an obvious way, but in a way that made your skin prickle with awareness.

At some point, you slipped away from the group, stepping outside for fresh air. The cool night breeze helped steady your heartbeat. That was, until you heard footsteps behind you.

Chris.

"You okay?" His voice was softer than usual, lacking the teasing edge he so often carried.

You swallowed. "Yeah. Just needed some air."

He nodded, but he didn’t leave. He leaned against the wall next to you, hands in his pockets, his body close.

"You’ve been quiet tonight," he observed.

You laughed nervously. "So have you."

"Yeah, well…" He exhaled, tilting his head slightly. "Maybe I was waiting for you to say something first."

Your breath hitched. "Say what?"

Chris studied you for a long moment. It was the kind of look that made you feel like he could read everything—every hidden thought, every unspoken feeling. And maybe he could. Before he could say anything else, the door swung open behind you.

George.

His eyes flicked between the two of you, and suddenly, the tension thickened into something unbearable.

"Hey," George said, voice carefully even. "You okay?"

You nodded quickly, stepping back from Chris. You weren’t sure why.

Chris let out a low chuckle. "You sent George to come check on me?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

George’s lips pressed into a thin line. "I sent myself."

Chris’s jaw twitched, something unreadable passing between them. Oh.

You weren’t imagining it, were you? The way George was standing, the way Chris’s shoulders squared ever so slightly—like two opponents stepping into a ring.

"You should come back inside," George said, but his gaze wasn’t on you. It was on Chris.

And that’s when it hit you. George wasn’t just being protective. Chris wasn’t just acting strange.

They both—

Oh, God.

You felt your stomach drop, realisation slamming into you like a freight train. They both had feelings for you. And you… you only had feelings for one of them.

Chris.

But you had never imagined it would be this complicated.

Chris let out a breath, pushing off the wall. "Yeah, we should go back," he said, but his voice was tight.

George lingered for a second before he reached for your hand—just a small touch on your wrist, the kind that might have gone unnoticed if you weren’t already drowning in the weight of everything unsaid. When you looked at him, there was something in his eyes. Please choose me.

But when you glanced back at Chris, his gaze burned just as fiercely. Please tell me you feel the same. And suddenly, you weren’t sure if you could breathe at all. You could still feel George’s touch on your wrist. Gentle, hesitant. A silent plea. But your heart wasn’t hesitating. It was already pulling in one direction.

Chris.

It always had been. The moment stretched between the three of you, unbearably tense. The unspoken words, the lingering looks, the unacknowledged feelings that had been brewing for months—it was all coming to a head now, whether you were ready for it or not. Chris’s jaw was clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he was restraining himself from doing something reckless. His eyes burned into yours, searching, waiting.

George exhaled sharply. "Let’s go back inside," he repeated, but his voice had lost its steadiness. It was raw now. Vulnerable.

Your chest tightened. You knew what he wasn’t saying. Please don’t do this. Chris must have sensed it too, because he took a step forward—closer to you. Close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, close enough that the air between you felt electric.

"Or," Chris said, voice low, dangerous, "she doesn’t have to."

You swallowed hard.

George stiffened. "What the hell does that mean?"

Chris’s gaze never left yours. "It means if she wants to stay, she stays."

The weight of the moment crushed down on you. This was it. The moment you had to choose. And maybe, deep down, you had already made your decision a long time ago. You took a slow breath, gathering every ounce of courage you had. Then, with your heart pounding, you stepped toward Chris. Not George.

Chris’s eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t actually expected you to choose him. And George—oh God, George—his breath hitched, pain flickering across his face for the briefest moment before he masked it. But you saw it. You felt it. Chris must have felt it too, because his jaw clenched, his body tensed. But then you reached for his hand. And that was all it took. Chris’s hand tightened around yours—possessive, certain. Like he had been waiting for this. For you.

George let out a soft, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Right," he murmured. "Got it." His voice was calm, but his eyes—his eyes—were full of something that made your stomach twist.

He nodded, once, then turned and walked away. You almost called out to him. Almost. But then Chris pulled you back to reality. He tugged you closer, until you were right there—his forehead nearly resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

"You sure about this?" he murmured. His voice was different now. No teasing. No playfulness. Just real.

You let out a shaky breath. "Yeah."

And then he kissed you. It wasn’t slow, or careful, or hesitant. It was intense. Like he had been holding back for months and just couldn’t anymore. Like he didn’t care that you were standing in the dim glow of a streetlamp outside the bar, or that anyone could walk out and see. Like he was claiming you. And when you kissed him back, you poured every ounce of feeling you had into it. Because finally, finally, you had stopped running from what you wanted. And Chris wasn’t about to let you go.

It wasn’t regret. No, you knew deep down you had made the right choice. But the moment George walked away that night, something inside you fractured. And it hadn’t healed since.

For the next few days, George didn’t answer your texts. Calls went straight to voicemail. It was as if he had vanished. Avoiding you. Avoiding this. Chris, on the other hand, was different. He didn’t talk about what happened. He didn’t say George’s name. But he was there—calling, texting, making sure you were okay. And when you were together, he kissed you like he wanted to erase everything else. Like he wanted you to focus on him, not the pieces of your friendship that were shattering.

But it didn’t work. Because every time you kissed him, you thought of George. Not because you wanted him instead, but because you had hurt him. And the worst part? He hadn’t even fought for you. He had just… walked away.

You finally saw him again two weeks later. It wasn’t planned. You had just left Chris’s place—his scent still lingering on your skin, your lips still swollen from his kiss—when you ran into George at the coffee shop near your apartment. The moment your eyes met, he froze. For a second, you thought he might turn and walk out. But then, with a sigh, he stepped forward and pulled out the chair across from you, sitting down like it was a chore.

You swallowed hard. "George—"

"Don’t." His voice was flat.

The barista set a coffee down in front of him. He didn’t touch it. He just stared at you, eyes unreadable.

"You’ve been ignoring me," you said softly.

His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Yeah. Funny how that happens."

You winced. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."

"You didn’t mean to choose him either?" He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "No, wait—don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear it."

Your stomach twisted. "George…"

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Look, I get it. It was never me. It was always Chris."

You flinched. Not because he was wrong, but because hearing it like that, so definite, made it feel worse.

"And you know what?" He exhaled sharply, finally meeting your eyes. "That’s fine. I can deal with that. But you could’ve at least told me."

Your breath caught. "What?"

"You knew," he said bitterly. "You had to have known. Maybe not at first, but eventually. You felt it, right?" His voice was quieter now. "You felt the way I looked at you, the way I…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "And if you didn’t, then I was a fucking idiot."

Your throat tightened. "George, I—"

He let out another sharp laugh. "God, I must’ve looked so stupid standing there that night, watching you pick him. Watching you look at him the way I wanted you to look at me."

The words hit like a slap. You had spent so long drowning in your own feelings that you had never stopped to think about what it must have been like for him. Watching you choose someone else. Watching you slip away. You reached out, fingers brushing his hand. He pulled away. That hurt more than anything.

"I don’t hate you," George said after a moment. "I just… I can’t be around you right now." His voice cracked slightly. "Not when you’re with him."

Your stomach dropped. "George, please—"

"Don’t," he said again, shaking his head. "You made your choice. And I’m making mine."

He stood up, coffee untouched, hands shoved deep in his pockets. And then, with one last glance—one final, unreadable look—he walked away. Again. And this time. You weren’t sure if he was ever coming back. You should’ve been happy. You were happy, right?

Chris was everything you had wanted—everything you had spent months trying to deny. And now that he was yours, he made sure you knew it. Every kiss, every touch, every look—he didn’t hold back anymore. But no matter how many times he kissed you breathless, no matter how tightly he held you at night, there was a weight pressing against your chest.

George.

The last time you saw him replayed in your mind like a broken record. The sharpness in his voice. The way he pulled his hand away. The way he left. And the worst part? You hadn’t heard from him since. Until now.

Chris was asleep, his arm slung over your waist, his breaths slow and steady against your neck. The warmth of his body wrapped around you, grounding you. And yet, when your phone buzzed in the darkness, a shiver ran down your spine.

George.

You stared at the screen, your heart hammering. For a second, you thought about ignoring it. But then—you slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Chris, and stepped into the hallway before answering.

“…George?”

A long silence. Then, his voice—low, rough, like he hadn’t slept.

“I need to see you.”

Your stomach twisted. “George, I—”

“Please.”

You closed your eyes. The way he said it—like he was breaking.

“…Where?”

You found him at the park, sitting on the same bench where you used to meet after long days. But this time, there was distance. He barely looked at you when you sat down, staring ahead like he was afraid to face you.

“I wasn’t going to call,” he admitted.

You swallowed. “So why did you?”

George exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Because I thought I could let you go.” His voice was raw. “I tried. I really fucking tried.”

Your breath hitched.

He turned to you then, eyes dark with something unreadable. “But every time I see you with him, it feels like I’m suffocating.”

You looked away, guilt creeping in. “George—”

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” he interrupted. “I just… I need you to know”

Silence stretched between you. And then—softly, brokenly—

“I love you.”

Your heart stopped. You had known. Of course you had known. But hearing him say it out loud? It was different. Dangerous.

“I don’t expect anything,” he continued, his voice hoarse. “I just couldn’t keep pretending anymore.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “George, I—”

But before you could say anything, a voice cut through the air like a blade. Chris. Standing just a few feet away. Watching. His expression was unreadable, but his fists were clenched. And in that moment, you realised— this wasn’t over. Not even close.

Chris didn’t say a word. Not when his eyes locked onto yours. Not when his jaw clenched so tight you thought it might snap. Not even when George stood up, ready for a fight. But Chris didn’t fight. He didn’t need to. Instead, he looked at you—just you. His expression unreadable, his shoulders tense, like he was waiting to see if you’d follow. And you did.

The silence in the car was thick. Charged. Chris gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white, his jaw locked, his eyes dark. You wanted to say something, but you didn’t know what. Because the way he was acting? The way his whole body radiated tension? You had never seen him like this before.

The second you walked into his apartment, the door slammed shut behind you. Before you could react, Chris was on you. His hands found your waist, his body pressing you back against the door, his breath hot against your skin.

“You went to him.” His voice was low, rough—dangerous.

Your breath hitched. “Chris, I—”

“Tell me,” he demanded, his lips brushing against your jaw. “Tell me you don’t still think about him.”

Your stomach twisted. “Chris, I chose you.”

He let out a sharp breath—half a laugh, half frustration. “Yeah? Then say it.”

Your heart pounded. “Say what?”

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “That you’re mine.”

Your breath stalled. Because it wasn’t just a question. It was a challenge. The air between you was electric, charged with everything unsaid. And then—before you could even think—your lips crashed together. It was nothing like the first time. It was raw. Desperate. Possessive.

Chris kissed you like he was trying to erase any trace of George from your mind. Like he needed to remind you exactly who you belonged to. And you let him. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, pressing against him like you’d never get enough. Chris groaned, deep and low, as he lifted you—effortlessly—and carried you straight to his bedroom.

And when he laid you down, his lips never left yours. Because this wasn’t just about desire. This was about claiming. And tonight, Chris was going to make sure you knew exactly who you had chosen. Chris wasn’t gentle.

He wasn’t soft, or slow, or careful. Because this wasn’t about romance. This was about possession. About claiming you. About making damn sure that every thought of George was burned from your body, your mind—until the only name you could say, the only person you could think about, was him. And God, you let him. You let him devour you.

His hands were everywhere—gripping, demanding, sliding over your skin like he had something to prove. Like he needed to mark you, brand you, ruin you for anyone else. Your back arched under him as his lips trailed down your neck, teeth scraping, biting—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you exactly who was in control.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your skin, his voice thick with need. “Say it.”

Your breath hitched. “Chris—”

But that wasn’t enough.

His hand tightened around your waist, pinning you in place. “Say it.”

A shiver ran through you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped, “I’m yours.”

Chris cursed under his breath, his lips crashing back against yours. And from that moment on, there was no going back. No restraint. No hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered want.

The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the sharp edge of his name falling from your lips, the deep, guttural sounds he made when you pulled him closer, closer— and when it was over, when you were left wrecked beneath him, he didn’t let you go. He stayed. His arms wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still wasn’t done. Like he never would be.

Chris brushed his lips against your ear, voice low and dangerous.

“If he ever tries to take you from me again…”

A pause. A slow, dark chuckle.

“He won’t.”

You swallowed hard. Because it wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. Without hesitation, Chris takes your hand, his eyes filled with a burning intensity.

Chris breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down your neck, nuzzling and biting gently. His hands tug at your clothing, desperately trying to remove them. He removes your hoodie and joggers before he eagerly removes his jeans and t-shirt, leaving you both in your underwear. He lifts you up and wraps your legs around your waist.

“Chris…please.” You plead, as desire runs through your veins.

Chris can feel your begging whisper and it drives him mad with desire. “Shh… Shh…” He murmurs as he carries you to the bed and tossing you onto it. He crawls between your legs, looking up at you with lust-glazed eyes.

Chris spreads your legs wider, moving the side of your panties and revealing your wetness. He groans at the sight, and he leans down- burying his face between your legs. His tongue laps at your pussy, tasting your juices and savouring the flavour. He sucks on your clit gently, which makes you arch your back and groan in pleasure.

“Chris…” You moan, as you grab fistfuls of his hair, pulling it tight.

He hears his name leave your lips in a breathy plea, and it sends him over the edge. He pulls back, wiping the wetness from his face as he sits up and stares at you with a fierce desire. “You want my dick inside of you, huh?” He says cockily.

He doesn’t wait for you to reply. He immediately removes your panties and his boxers then aligns himself with your entrance. With one swift thrust, he enters you- earning a loud moan from both of you. He starts moving slowly at first, savouring the feeling of finally being inside you. His best friend. His lover. “Fuck.” He groans.

Chris picks up the pace, diving into you harder with each thrust, his hips slapping against yours. He leans down to capture your lips, kissing you messily as he continues to fill you- his thick cock hitting depths no one else ever has.

His hands grip your ass, squeezing and spreading you. His kiss becomes more urgent, more passionate as you both continue to move in sync. Your bodies press together in a desperate need for contact. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with love and desire. “I love you.” He groans out.

“I love you too.” You reply between moans. He swallows your reply with another deep kiss, his body covering yours possessively. His movements become uncoordinated and sloppy with love and lust. He pushes your legs higher up, going even deeper and hitting that magical spot inside you that makes you cry out.

You moan loudly as your high washes over you, moaning Chris’ name repeatedly as if it was a prayer. Your legs shake as Chris continues to thrust into you, riding out your high. He growls in satisfaction at your cries, his own release also building. He pushes into you one last time, holding himself deep inside you as he comes hard, filling you with his hot seed. “Mine.” He pants, collapsing on top of you. “Mine, fucking mine.”

The room was silent, except for the sound of your still-unsteady breathing. Chris was lying beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his body still pressed against yours like he couldn’t stand the thought of space between you. But there was no mistaking it—something had shifted. Because even though he had kissed you breathless, even though he had left you wrecked and marked and his, there was something in the air that felt unfinished. Like a storm waiting to break.

You swallowed hard, fingers tracing along the sheets. "Chris…"

His grip on you tightened.

"Don’t," he muttered, his voice rough, still thick with the last remnants of heat.

Your heart clenched. "Don’t what?"

"Don’t say his name."

You froze.

Chris exhaled sharply, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. His gaze was dark, unreadable. But his jaw was clenched, his fingers still gripping your skin like he was afraid to let go.

"You went to him," he said, voice low. "You met up with him, you sat with him, and you listened to him."

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. Because he wasn’t wrong.

Chris’s jaw tightened. "What did he say?"

Your throat was dry. "Chris, it doesn’t—"

"What did he say?" His voice was sharp now. Demanding.

You hesitated. And that hesitation was enough. Chris cursed under his breath, sitting up, running a hand through his already-messy hair. He was pissed. And not just because of George. Because of you.

"He told you he loves you, didn’t he?" Chris scoffed, shaking his head. "And let me guess—you didn’t tell him to fuck off. You just sat there, feeling sorry for him."

Your chest tightened. "Chris, it’s not that simple—"

"It is that simple," he snapped, turning to you. His eyes were burning. "You chose me, didn’t you?"

"Of course I did."

"Then why the hell are you still thinking about him?"

Your breath hitched. "I’m not—"

Chris let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t lie to me."

The room suffocated with silence. Because he was right. You had chosen Chris. You had let him pull you under, let him claim you in every possible way. And yet, George’s voice still echoed in your mind. I love you.

Chris sighed, his frustration visible, but then—he did something unexpected. He softened. His hand came up to your jaw, his thumb tracing over your lips, his touch gentler than it had been all night.

"You’re mine," he murmured. But this time, it wasn’t a demand. It was a plea.

A raw, vulnerable thing. And that’s when you realised— Chris was afraid. Afraid that no matter how much he had taken from you tonight, there were still pieces of you that weren’t his. And you had to decide if you were going to fix that, or let the cracks grow wider.

Chris’s fingers were still against your jaw, his touch softer now—but his eyes? His eyes were dark, burning with something between frustration and fear. You had never seen him like this before. Chris never doubted himself. Never second-guessed. He was cocky, confident, the kind of guy who never let anything shake him. But right now? He was afraid he was losing you. And you couldn’t let him think that. So you reached up, cupping his face, your thumb brushing against the edge of his jaw. He stilled under your touch, his breath uneven, his muscles still tense.

"It’s you," you murmured, voice softer now. "It’s always been you."

Chris swallowed hard, his lips parting like he wanted to argue. Like he wanted to remind you of the other man’s words. But you didn’t let him. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his, forcing him to focus on you.

"I chose you," you whispered. "Not him."

Chris’s breath hitched. But you weren’t done.

"I don’t want him," you murmured, each word slow, deliberate. "I want you."

That’s when he finally exhaled. The tension in his shoulders melted just a little, his fingers tightening against your skin—but not like before. Not with anger. With need. Chris shifted, moving so quickly you barely had time to react before he was on top of you again, his lips crashing against yours, his grip desperate, almost fragile.

"Say it again," he demanded against your lips.

You gasped. "I want you.”

His hands slid down your sides, fingers pressing into your skin like he needed to memorise every inch of you.

"Only me," he rasped.

You nodded, breathless. "Only you."

Chris groaned, his grip tightening, his lips trailing down your neck, claiming you all over again. And this time? It wasn’t about possession. It wasn’t about proving something. It was about you and him. Nothing else. No one else. And for once, there was no doubt left between you.

For a little while, things felt… right. Chris wasn’t holding back anymore—not his touches, not his words, not the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. And for the first time since everything started, you let yourself believe it was over. That George had finally let go.

You should’ve known better.

It was late when it happened. Chris was in the kitchen, shirtless, barefoot, the glow of the fridge light illuminating his sharp features as he poured himself a drink. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in the scent of him, wearing his hoodie, content in a way you hadn’t been in a long time. And then—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

A sharp, relentless pounding against the door. Chris froze. You sat up, the sudden weight in your chest making it hard to breathe. You knew who it was before you even heard his voice.

"Open the fucking door, Chris."

Chris set his glass down slowly. Deliberately. His entire body went rigid, his jaw clenching so tightly it looked painful.

You swallowed hard. "Chris, maybe we shouldn’t—"

But he was already moving. And when he yanked the door open, George was standing there, rage simmering beneath the surface. His eyes flicked past Chris—to you. And that’s when you knew. This wasn’t just anger. This was a man on the edge. A man who wasn’t done fighting for you.

"You’re fucking kidding me," George laughed bitterly, shaking his head. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling too quickly.

Chris didn’t react. Not at first. He just stood there, body tense, solid, like he was waiting for George to make a move. But George wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at you.

"You just ran straight to him, huh?" George’s voice was sharp, cutting, but you could hear the hurt beneath it. "No hesitation. No second thoughts."

Your stomach twisted. "George—"

"Do you even fucking care?" His voice cracked, his hands running through his hair in frustration. "Do you even care what this is doing to me?"

You stood up. "Of course I do—"

"Then why are you here?" He stepped forward. Chris immediately blocked his path.

"Back up." Chris’s voice was dangerously low.

George ignored him. His eyes were locked onto you. "Say it."

Your breath hitched. "Say what?"

"That you don’t love me."

Your chest tightened.

George let out a shaky breath, his voice dropping. "Say it, and I’ll walk away. Right now. Forever."

Chris stiffened. You felt the weight of both of them in the room—George, desperate and breaking, and Chris, tense and waiting. And suddenly, you realised— this was the moment. The final line. Whatever you said next would change everything. The room was suffocating. Chris stood between you and George, his entire body coiled like a predator, ready to snap the second George stepped out of line. But George wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at you. And he was waiting.

“Say it, and I’ll walk away. Right now. Forever."

You inhaled sharply, steadying yourself. Because there was no room left for hesitation. No room for second-guessing. So you looked George in the eyes, voice firm—unshakable.

"I don’t love you."

The words cut through the air like a blade. George’s breath stilled. His jaw clenched. His entire body locked up. But you weren’t done.

"I never did."

Chris exhaled. George? George just… froze. Like his brain refused to process what you had just said. Like some part of him had still been holding onto the hope that you’d change your mind. But now? Now, there was nothing left. You watched it happen—the exact moment his hope died. The exact second he realised that no matter how hard he fought, he had already lost. George took a slow step back. Then another. And when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. Hollow.

"...Right."

He swallowed hard, nodding to himself, eyes flicking between you and Chris one last time. Then—without another word—he turned around and walked away. And this time? He didn’t look back. The door clicked shut. Silence. Chris’s shoulders stayed tense for a long moment, like he was still waiting for the fight to continue.

But when nothing happened—when George was really, truly gone—Chris let out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair before turning to face you.

"...You okay?"

Your throat felt dry. "Yeah."

Chris studied you for a second, searching your face.

Then, his hand reached out, his fingers curling around your wrist, his grip steady. Like he was still afraid you might disappear, too.

"You’re mine now," he murmured. Not a question. Not a demand. Just a fact.

Your chest tightened—but not with fear. With certainty. You leaned in, pressing your lips softly against his, letting your fingers tangle in his hair as you whispered against his skin—

"I always was."

And for the first time in a long time, there were no doubts left between you. No ghosts of the past. No unfinished business. Just you and Chris. Exactly how it was always meant to be.

——————————————————————————————————

This took me so long to write but I LOVED it! Also feeding you all with another Chris and George fic. This also feeds one of my friends requests for a Chris smut 👀

I am aiming to get a George one out at some point next week too so look out for that!

Tags-

@themdera

#arthur hill #arthur frederick #george clarke #harrylewis #harry lewis #uk youtubers #james marriott #w2s #willne #wroetoshaw #chris dixon x reader #chris dixon #chrismd #george clarke fics #george clarkey #chrismd x reader

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vidals-harkness · 1 day ago

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circle sewn with fate, unlock thy hidden gate (part 1)

summary: your perfectly 'normal' friday morning got interrupted by the mad search for a coven with a witch who's reputation precedes her.

fic type: angst

pairings: agatha harkness x teen!reader, teen x teen!reader

word count: 1.6k

series masterlist | masterlist

You sat at the kitchen island and watched your mother go off her rocker and ballistic about…well, everything. It was entertaining, to say the least, but it was also nothing short of absolutely irritating.

“Coming in here after all that time, thinking she’s gonna…” she muttered angrily. “Look at my front door!”

“Well, if you weren’t such a hopeless lesbian and just, I don’t know, talked to Mami, we wouldn’t be here, would we?” You scoffed, annoyed.

“What?” She rounded on you, before yet something else caught her eyes. “Ugh! Whose shoes are these?”

“Probably the guy you kidnapped,” you shrugged, nodding at Teen, who stood at the closet entryway, trying to undo the tape from his mouth.

“Okay. She’s unstoppable,” she said, pausing for a moment.

“No, she’s not, you’re just being stupid,” you said, rinsing your bowl and putting it away.

“And you’re giving me attitude?” She scoffed.

“Oh, tragic,” you rolled your eyes, walking over to grab a broom, ready to sweep the mess up.

“The house is yours, random boy. Be sure to tell the vengeanceseekers I said hi,” Agatha said hurriedly, gathering some stuff. “Y/n, grab stuff we can use to survive on the road—“

The boy bunny-hopped to the doorframe, and spent a moment taking off the tape around his mouth before blurting out, “Take me to the Witches’ Road!”

Both you and your mother froze, looking at each other.

“Come again?” The older woman said, brow raised.

“The Witches’ Road,” the boy repeated. “I want you to take me there. Please?”

“Is this twink for real?” You asked, eyeing your mother.

“Hey!” He protested, only to receive a shrug in return.

“The Witches’ Road doesn’t exist,” Agatha said, crossing her arms to face him.

“You’re lying,”

“Am I?”

“That’s just what real witches say to keep the amateurs out,” he replied. “The Road will give you the thing you want the most,”

“And what could you possibly desire? Free glitter eyeliner for life?” You snorted, leaning on the broom.

“Dude, what is your problem?” He said, irritated.

“Hey, I’m my mother’s daughter,”

“The road does give you what you desire,” Agatha interrupted. You already sensed the cogs turning in her brain and it made you sick. “If you make it to the end,”

“And I can. I will,” he said indignantly.

“Hmm,” she hummed thoughtfully, casting you a sideways glance which you reciprocated with a scowl. “The Road is no place for a kid,”

“I’m 16!” He protested. “Oh, sorry. Teen,” she replied mockingly. “I don’t know where you heard about The Road…Books, the Ballad, legend, lore…But it will kill you,”

“Didn’t kill you,” he countered.

“Cause she’s a stubborn bitch,” you huffed under your breath.

“Well, I’m exceptional,” she said simply.

“That’s my point,” he said.

“No, please don’t fuel her humongous ego—“ you sighed.

He rolled his eyes and added, “Okay, so, confession, I know an egregious amount about you. I’ve been obsessed since I first read up on your Salem days,”

“So not only are you a twink, you are also a creep, fantastic,” you nodded sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes at you, continuing, “One of my favorite “you” eras,”

“That’s a good one,” Agatha nodded appreciatively. She looked at you and said pointedly. “At least a omeone appreciates my work,”

“That’s why I came here last night,” he said. “That’s why I saved you from the spell you were under,”

“If you’ve got the goods to break a spell cast by the Scarlet Witch,” Agatha said, eyeing him curiously. “Why do you need The Road?”

“I mean, I’ve studied, don’t get me wrong,” he said, making her smile tightly in acknowledgment. “But that can only take you so far. I wanna blast, to shield, to levitate—“

“So you want a shortcut,” she interrupted. “The Road promises that what’s missing awaits you at its end,”

“Oof,” you chuckled. “That’s rough, never meet your heroes, Teenie,”

“Shut up,” he snapped, turning back to Agatha. “Power is what I’m missing. Sounds like it’s what you’re missing, too,”

You paused and watched your mother nervously. She was a strong woman, crazy every now and then, but she wasn’t stupid, was she? She couldn’t possibly take up on this offer with some random kid she kidnapped under a spell.

“Nope. Too risky. No time,” she said finally, about to walk off again.

“If you wanna run, fine,” he shrugged. “But these people who are coming tonight sound serious. You really think you can outrun them with no magic at all?”

“Twink’s got a point,” you sighed. While yes, it was an idiotic thing to do, the Road was safer than the Seven, without a doubt. At least there, death would be quick and painless and devoid of any nightmarish methods.

“Who are you?” Agatha asked, squinting at him.

“My name is…” his words distorted, and you saw his lips vanish completely, only to reappear again after he had finished.

"Say again," your mother demanded, eyes squinting slightly at the sight of it.

"I'm..." there it was again. Distortion, something scribbled over his lips.

Your mother and you shared a look. 'Something's up,'

"Interesting..." she mused, eyeing him curiously. "I'm driving,"

You groaned. This woman was on a whole different level.

"I don't like this, Mom," you muttered, catching her by the wrist. "I really don't,"

She shook your hand off her. Ouch. A glare graced her sharp blue eyes. "Trust me,"

"When was the last time those two words meant anything to you?"

"When was the last time you weren't so suspicious?"

"Whatever," you huffed.

Of course it was like this. Power, power, power. You couldn't remember the last time she'd stopped, paused, asked you 'how was your day, baby?' but she wasn't that kind of mom...was she?

Fix it, fix it, fix--

You shook your head. Stupid voices. This is what happened when Death and Chaos raised a child. There was nothing you could fix. Not when the thing you wanted to fix was...

...sitting at a makeshift car.

"Need your pills, Mama?" You scoffed, walking right past her, grabbing the keys, only to have them snatched from you by Agatha.

"You’re driving," she tossed the keys in Teen's direction, much to your dismay.

The crisp Westview afternoon beat down upon you, with sharp sun gleaming over suburban rooftops, casting sharp shadows over the empty streets. It was quiet, normal, calm--

"Miss Harkness! Miss Harkness!"

And there it went, right as you were enjoying it. Teen.

"What do you know about covens?" He asked, enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. "Calm your ass down, fanboy,"

"Y/n," Agatha warned before walking and continuing, "Just that they’re drawn together by mysterious forces of fate, and that they’re the truest form of sisterhood and--"

"Oh, my God. Are you taking me to meet your coven?" He gasped, interrupting her.

She shuddered. "No. Those harpies are dust. But we do need a coven to access The Road,"

"Right. Of course, that makes sense," he muttered.

"Wow, it can understand common sense," you gasped sarcastically. "Well done, Junior,"

"Fuck off," he huffed. He caught up with Agatha. "It is the Witches’, plural possessive, Road,"

You glared daggers into the back of his head as he sat in the front of a Subaru, Agatha beside him. Jealousy, ugly and burning, twisted in your chest. What was she trying to do, palling up with this random kid she kidnapped on a Thursday evening in delirium? Had she no sense? No dignity? No grief?

Your fingertips tingled, and the voices rose. Fix it, fix it, fix it. Fix what? Fix a relationship like porcelain? Fix this power-hungry woman with a thirst for nothing else?

"So where do we just find a coven?" Teen asked.

"You call yourself a witch?" You scoffed. "You got some homework to do, Twinky,"

"Wherever you are, a coven there shall be," Agnes shot you a look through the mirror.

"That’s beautiful,"

"Hardly," you scoffed.

"She's right. It’s definitely not," Agatha shrugged. "But it is the Covenstead Rule. Within any three mile radius, there will be a collection of witchy enough people to form a coven,"

Teen fished around in his pocket and held out a worn journal. "Can you actually jot that down for me?"

"Ooh, where's the unicorn fluffy pen, Twinky?" You teased. "Gushing about your dream guy from class in your diary?"

"No," he gave you a pointed look. "There’s a pen in the glove compartment,"

"Oh," Agatha had that look in her eye as she got the pen. "Okay. Of course. Will this be…" she promptly flung it out the window.

"I'll remember it," he shrugged. "So, with a Covenstead, it’s unlikely we’ll find witches as high profile as you--"

"Yeah, there’s no such thing, Teen," she interrupted. "You know, but all we need is a bit of talent. Even the most downandout witches, when in close proximity with each other, bring out a magical spark,"

"A spark you seem to have lost," you muttered as the car stopped. Here, the energy felt strange--buzzed like a frat party, but calm like before a storm. Your eyes landed on it: Madame Calderu's.

A psychic. You hated psychics. Know it alls who had no notion of personal space or intellectual personal space.

"You think there’s a real witch in there?" Teen asked as Agatha did up her hair.

"Nah, probably some ugly fucking harpy," you scoffed, shoving past him.

"We’ll see if she knows the secret handshake," Agatha shrugged. On seeing that he was believing her, she groaned, "No,"

A grin spread over his lips. "I feel really optimistic about this,"

The shop was dim, lit primarily by the candles of the space. It smelt of incense and essential oils, and it made you want to throw up. Trinkets hung from every place, and it made your chaotic thoughts more chaotic than usual. The lights glinted off the surface of the crystal ball--which warped the floral tablecloth it was placed over.

And right then, a voice.

"Welcome to the curious,"

@eletricheart, @misty-melody, @mmemalwa, @skittlebum, @lexietargaryen, @natashasmuse, @angelbeingatitspurest, @skittledemon, @wandasreallover , @gaylorvader, @lovelyy-moonlight, @lizziescutiepie, @rosierogie, @lanadelreyaesthic, @circe143, @babybeeelle, @kafkas-left-titty, @delusional-4-fake-people , @filmedbyharkness , @nothecoffeemachine03, @believe-in-magic13 , @liloandstitchstan , @scarlettwidow09, @pixelfaery, @darkexil, @agatha-harknesses-housewife

hi bao buns! sorry this is SO overdue, i've been swamped with work, motivation problems, and now studies. i figured it'll be exhausting to write out such huge chapters for every episode, so i might break them down into parts <3 thank you for your patience!

love, jace.

#baby witch from death #miniseries #agatha all along #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x child!reader #mom agatha #angst #teen x reader #billy kaplann #billy maximoff #agatha harkness

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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 days ago

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Chapter 17. Weeds

Summary: How can a man with this amount of heart remain in the shadows of society? Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Words: 2,089 Listen to: 'Wasteland, Baby!' -by Hozier A/N: This is the fastest slow-burn I've ever written, you guys are so lucky I can't keep it in my pants when it comes to Benedict -Danny

You help Penelope make a swift exit and lend her your carriage (the Queen had one for herself and Brimsley) so she goes away to print the real Whistledown, and you and your sister take Eloise's so the guests believe Pen and her left the party together.

While you're driving to Eloise's home, your sister is eager to get all the gossip, and after Eloise delivers, Marie starts asking about Benedict.

"Don't," you chastise her.

"Wouldn't you want to know more about my sister as well?" Marie offers, ignoring you. "I can tell you so many queer things about Y/N."

"Marie," you press, blushing.

Eloise manages to smile even in the worried state she's in. "You are not at all how I thought you'd be."

"Posh, stiff and boring?" You redirect the conversation happily.

The girl chuckles. "Colin was right when he told us you're not like our crown. You're... more colorful."

Both of you perk up at the compliment, proud to be positively reviewed by a smart lady. Encouraged by this, Marie's even more tempted to get information out of her. "Do you think your brother cares for my sister?"

"Marie!"

"Oh, most definitely," Eloise admits easily. "I'd never seen him so set on helping someone. He wants her to thrive."

"Is that very strange?" Marie asks eagerly.

"Tremendously. My brother isn't the kind you'd see in society this often. He's been to more balls this season than in the last four years!"

"Well, I've forced his hand since the start," you feel obliged to defend his reputation. "I asked him to take me to the innovations ball, and your sister Hyacinth probably played a big part in his agreement."

Eloise snorts. "He would've invited you anyway. He told me he was going to invite you and offer friendship, I suppose you beat him to that," she lets out a dry laugh. "I imagine he didn't like feeling like he was one step behind you. Benedict is my most intelligent brother, you know? It vexes him when someone outwits him."

Marie turns to you with a knowing grin, but you're busy being baffled. "Benedict says Anthony is the smartest."

"Anthony is Benedict's only older sibling, so of course he would think him smarter," Eloise brushes it off. "But the rest of us know better. Don't tell him that, it does him well to think he's not the smartest, he'd be too terrible if he actually knew himself entirely."

Her words tickle you, added to the commentary Tilley once gave you about Benedict wanting to explore uncharted waters, and his reticence to study art after discovering the involvement of his older brother in the whole ordeal, it all starts to make a picture of the elusive man.

"Have you seen what that dreadful Cressida has said about your Bridgertons?" Marie shoves the paper under your nose.

You swat it away. "The Queen got it while we were having breakfast and she read it out loud to me—it was vulgar and plain bullying, she might've done competently with a few words, but it takes more than five well-written lines to be on the same level as Pen."

"Look at you, on a first-name basis with the ladies of the ton," Marie teases you, but she's proud. "So what now?"

"Now, I go on a stroll with you and Paula, and we look for Be—Eloise," you catch yourself on time, but not fast enough.

"I suppose you're itching to question Mr Bridgerton on his absence yesterday," she grins. "Very well, let's take a walk."

You find Eloise and Benedict at the same time as Penelope, and the five of you stop and freeze until lovely Marie grabs Penelope and Eloise by the arms and tugs them away. "So good to see you both! I am in dire need of a decent read and I've been told you are fond of books—Why don't you recommend me some?" She looks at you over her shoulder. "Y/N, do entertain Mr Bridgerton while we chat, I don't wish to bore him!"

She laughs almost maniacally, having too much fun taking part in something other than dull royal events for once. Benedict gives her a weird look before offering his arm to you. "Is she well?"

"Mentally?" You turn in the opposite direction from the girls. "Well, when we were children I dropped a vase on her head, so maybe not."

He laughs. "When I was little, Anthony would sit on my head, or hold me by the ankles to win arguments. Older siblings can be brutal."

You grin, playfully elbowing him. "I have a bone to pick with you, Mr Bridgerton, so don't tease me much."

"Do you?" He pulls you closer by half an inch, but it makes all the difference.

"I was abandoned last night, and I was wondering if I'll be granted the mercy of an explanation."

Benedict raises a brow. "You didn't need me. I was practically uninvited from the event altogether, and who am I to defy the crown?"

"Since when are you obedient and submissive?"

"I have never been a stranger to submission," he replies in a lower voice, his eyes lingering an extra second on your lips before his lopsided smile returns. "I might've used the opportunity to spend some time alone."

"Was it enjoyable?"

"Very. I even painted," he raises a brow and makes a face. "Then I got bored, obviously, and went for a walk."

"Couldn't have gone for a walk at the Mondrich's ball, could you?"

"Was that lovely debutant in attendance?"

"The one that's been trying to corner you? Yes."

"Then no, I couldn't."

You laugh and shake your head, looking sideways and gasping. "Look!"

Benedict stops with you and stares at the spot you're pointing at. He grins, finding himself just a few feet from the place where you first met. "I see your weeds are thriving."

"Look, Paula!" You turn to your friend, who's been following you from a prudent distance. "That's the spot!"

She nods with a sweet smile. "You've always been fond of weeds, Your Highness."

You watch them lovingly. "Weeds are rather special, you know?" You glance at Benedict seriously as you begin your ramble. "They grow where other plants can't. Humble and unassuming but strong and smart. They would survive unattended for months on end. Years, even. I suppose that's why I like them, they're the only plant that I can't kill..."

Benedict looks at you with the same affection you gaze at the garden. "Weeds are not well-received in general," he replies softly, "but I don't think they mind much, if they have you to love them. Makes up for the snubbing from less worthy creatures."

The ground feels less firm after his response, and you forget what you were even talking about, to begin with. How can a man with this amount of heart remain in the shadows of society? Why is no one in awe of him like you are? He should be desired by every girl with half a brain and a wish to marry—all the gentlemen should be following his example.

All he says always drips with poetry, and you can scarcely believe he's attracted to you, out of all people. You stumble over your own feet, spill tea over your bosom if you pick it up too fast, and blurt out whatever comes to mind when you're caught off guard. Yet he cares for you as no man has ever been interested in trying.

"Benedict..." You wish to ask him why, why was he so utterly abandoned, and why he is so set on staying that way. You want to ask why he acts as if he's scum when you plainly see he's pure, genuine, and good.

He senses it. He's used to that look in your eyes, the one that tells him you're getting too comfortable around him. He can't have that from a simple lady of the ton, so he certainly can't allow it in a princess.

"Let's return to our sisters," he turns you back around, almost running over Paula in the process. "I'm getting bored and loathe of this weather."

You allow him to take you back to your sister, the thread you're walking on much too thin to push it further.

"Your Majesty, Lady Bridgerton is here to see you," a servant announces.

"Let her in, then," the Queen sighs, then turns to you. "I don't see the point in wasting our time with this, I'm well aware of Miss Bridgerton's preferences and hold no lasting grudge against her. It is quite standard of the Bridgertons to snub my picks," she states, holding a bit of a grudge.

You chuckle good-naturedly. "Yes, but we ought to soothe the mother's mind. She's holding too high a bar for all of her children—higher than the crown, I dare say."

The Queen lets out a surprisingly nice and genuine little laugh. "Oh, I know. Violet, such a delicate heart..."

The aforementioned woman steps into the throne room, anxiously squeezing a handkerchief between her hands. "Your majesties," she curtsies.

You nod at her, and then the Queen speaks. "Take a seat, dear."

She obeys and smiles at you nervously, fawning her face with the soft cloth. "I... I'm not quite sure how to start..."

The Queen waves her hand impatiently. "Princess Y/N has explained the situation to me. Congratulations on yet another successful engagement this season." The older woman gives her a look. "Unless, of course, you disagree?"

Violet blinks. "Your Majesty?"

Queen Charlotte continues with nonchalance. "If anyone has a problem with your daughter's engagement it is clearly you. We are on good terms, you and I, so I will grant you an unique favour and do it right now if you wish. Do you want me to put a stop to your daughter's betrothal?"

Your head snaps to the side so quickly that it hurts but you ignore it, shocked at what you're hearing. "Queen Charlotte! You surely don't mean it?"

She raises a brow. "This happens all the time, dear. I've done the very same favour to many mamas over the years. It's quite a responsible thing to do if a parent wants to rid of an undesirable prospect."

"Lord Kilmartin isn't undesirable," Violet blushes down to her neck.

"For you it is, clearly so my dear," Queen Charlotte insists. "He's not enough for your standards, and I quite understand that. Your older children have gotten such lovely matches—"

"Francesca and John are well-suited," she defends unyielding.

"They are dull to look at," The Queen says as if not listening to a word, and just then you understand what she's doing. "You're making the right choice, Violet. I wouldn't marry any of my daughters to such a bore, not for all the land in—"

"Your Majesty," Violet speaks up, displeased and flustered. "I did not come to force them apart. My daughter wants your blessing above all things, and so that's all I'll ask of you."

The Queen raises a brow as if not expecting this answer. "Are you sure?"

"My daughter loves him," Violet says proudly. "And John tries every day to be the man she deserves. That is love," she looks at you, asking for courage. You nod smiling. "Happiness has many faces. Rarely one of them is perfection. All it ever needs be, is enough."

Queen Charlotte sighs, taking a sip of her tea. "Your daughter doesn't need my blessing, but she's my diamond, and I shall respect her wishes. You can tell her that. Would you like to discuss anything else?"

Violet looks grateful yet sober. "No, Your Majesty, that would be all. Thank you for the time."

"You may go, then."

"I'll walk you out," you offer. "I'll be right back, Your Majesty."

Violet follows you to the entrance and shrugs off her shock. "That went... nicely. Didn't it?"

You laugh. "Are you alright?"

"I wasn't expecting her to offer..." she fans her face. "I know I had my doubts, but I'd never..."

"She's a good queen," you say benevolently. "She was only trying to help a loyal subject."

"Yes, but sometimes she... oh well, I suppose as a royal you ought to be less emotional..."

You feel a bit sheepish over her observation, your lack of tact with Benedict weighing on your mind. "It's not that. We're taught to manage others differently, that's all. But she means well."

Violet turns to you as you both reach the entrance and smiles tenderly. "I know, dear. And I thank you for your help, truly. I'm glad Benedict met you, you're a good force in our lives."

You gulp, guilt churning in your stomach. "Lady Bridgerton—"

"Call me Violet," she reaches for your hand and squeezes. "You're a friend to my family."

"Violet," you say gently—from now on, all your actions towards Benedict and his loved ones will be done with the best intentions in mind. "I could not have gotten a greater honour."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@babypink224221 @Booknerdlife @djsporks @lght-roastcoffee @marii-ren @mythical-goth @omgsuperstarg @creepytoes88 @sarahskywalker-amidala @23victoria @shadowolf993 @squirreljoe @syxtiramishuui @stargirl-mayaa @dolllol2405 @aemondslove @inspiringwaves @optimisticsandwichgladiator @alloof @sydney-m @sirivusblack @mimibookish @marvelouslyme96 @imaginexred @black-kitten-imagines @bands-tv-movies-is-me @justanotherkpopstanlol @Nala @whatasadlittlelife @ivanttier

#twoidiots writing #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton fanfic #Bridgerton #Bridgerton x Princess Diaries crossover #TPD fic

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japanologydiaries · 1 year ago

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Japanese Vocabulary List Because I Forgot Everything 🤡

1 . 規律: (きりつ): discipline, order, rules

2 . 規制 (きせい): regulation, restriction (輸入規制は最近だいぶ緩められた。)

3 . 規則 (きそく): rule (社内で煙草を吸うのは社の規則に反する。) (規則的: routine, regular), (規則正しい: regular, orderly)

4 . 規模 (きぼ): scale, scope (大規模, large scale), (世界規模, global scale, world-wide)

5 . 実施 (じっし): to enforce, to implement, put into practice

6 . 応募 (おうぼ): application (申し込み)

7 . 募集 (ぼしゅう): recruitment, taking applications (その会の会員募集に応募した)

8 . 改定 (かいてい): revise and change (a rule, etc.), alteration, revision

9 . 改正 (かいせい): revise and correct flawed points, amendment

10 . 概要 (がいよう): outline, overview

11 . 概念 (がいねん): concept, notion, general idea (ゼロという概念はヒンドゥー文化に由来している)

12 . 概論 (がいろん): introduction (哲学概論), overview

#japanese vocabulary #japanese vocab list #well it's been some time since I last studied #my brain isn't braining right nowadays

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street-corner-felines · 8 months ago

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Zero Day Director commentary - With actor Andre Keuck

#movies #film #cinema #Damn I wish Cal was here #Andre and Ben are really interesting to listen to #This movie is one of those movies where it needs like 3 commentaries #It needs one with just Ben Coccio by himself #then one with Cal and Andre by themselves #then another with all 3 of them #Not all movies do that but I love when studios/filmmakers have multiple commentaries to create a sense of thorough intimacy #due to the nature of how commentaries are set up they can be quite restrictive/pressing/limited with no pauses or rewinds.#so I find cast/crew don't have enough time or able to present how they would like to if they could edit/rewind or pause for fluent presenta #So I love when they have director commentaries and actor commentaries or composer commentaries #Platoon's dvd extras are so dope they got multiple commentaries and one with military adviser Dale Dye who was a RL vietnam vet #Or Hostel's commentaries where one is just Eli Roth and another is Tarantino and Eli Roth with Scott Spiegal #idk if Zero Day ever got a blu-ray release but I think it should but the DV technology of the camera is kinda at it's limit of resolution #but an AI upscaling with 20 years later retrospective with Ben Cal and Andre would be sooo dope along with updated commentaries #Every few years I always rewatch Zero Day so that time has come that last few days lol #Ever since Columbine as a lil kid I have always been into spree-murders and active shooter incidents #I remember reading a peer-reviewed paper called Pseudo-Commandos #And Eric and Dylan and Andre and Cal would be dubbed Pseudo-Commandos where they dress up in a semi-military fashion #and have a delusion of superiority mixed with perceived sense of persecution whether it's true or not #it went into the Postal shooter from the 80s as well and what he went through along #plus I read another book called Going Postal which also went into postal shootings along with school shootings #I want to make a film about spree murders or an active shooter/s but I remember just getting so tired of the subject matter #because every 3 weeks there was some new shooter in the headlines and I found myself not wanting to be exploitative #When I write/direct my film I'd like it to address and study the character of such an individual but not try to be too political #or exploitative and focus on the ambiguities that are left behind when someone does this #as a society I noticed we stopped asking the questions on why and stopped having constructive conversations #it feels like as a coping mechanism we've started treating them like tornados or natural disasters

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disdaidal · 1 year ago

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I don't want to brag or sound too optimistic about it, but after three weeks of training at a private college, I think my lessons with this one particular immigrant student (who has serious motivational problems lemme tell ya) are finally starting to get through and there's been improvement.

Only slight improvement so far but I have spotted some, so maybe not all hope is lost yet.

Remains to be seen I guess.

#personal #so in case anyone's still wondering i'm studying to become a tutor/instructor/guidance counselor etc. etc. whatever it's called in english #and currently i mostly work with immigrants with language. sometimes i help high school students as well. but mostly immigrants #and there's this one immigrant student who's been there since last spring. and he still barely even knows the basics because he's 'given up #according to him that is. he told me this at least three times yesterday and i told him that's a problem #so i've been trying to hammer it through his head that he can't be sitting in classes and using his phone when he's supposed to be learning #or expect me or teachers giving him all the answers when he also needs to show a little effort and help us back as well #and that he needs to participate in pair and group activities in classes because we're a team and we need to work together #so basically he's been asking me to either teach him or then find someone who can teach him #i told one of our teachers this and she answered that he could also participate in evening activities at the college but he's not doing tha #and according to him he doesn't 'mingle'. so i told him maybe he should once in a while. get out of his comfort zone. at least try #to my surprise he actually showed up to one of the evening activities that i hosted. didn't do much anything there but sit but still #that was effort. he did exactly what i said despite it making him a little uncomfortable so that's improvement #so then yesterday he asked me about teaching him the language again. i told him i host a homework club at tuesdays & thursdays @ 3:30-4:30p #he showed up there yesterday and was the only student. so i had time to teach him basic greetings. weekdays. months. things he shoulda know #and i thought it's all probably in vain but i tried. so today. he was in their class and actually doing pair work and reading stuff aloud #and even translating some stuff when i asked. calling it easy. and that he's trying to use his phone less and memorize this stuff instead #to which the rest clapped at and cheered him on for. and i told this to the teacher afterwards when she asked me about him. and she gave #me a thumbs up and looked a little surprised but also delighted. because he's been a popular subject amongst ourselves for a reason #so i don't want to get too optimistic about it. because he still has an attitude problem. but he's tried a little at least. so there's hope

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olessan · 1 year ago

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I love the fact that I can work as hard as I can manage with a broken tooth and a dying tooth (one on each side, I've been chewing on the cavity for a year) and I still cannot save even $10 towards getting dental treatment (2 impacted wisdom teeth, + tooth broken off under the gum, + bad cavity) because I barely make enough to cover my food and board and the insane energy bill

#I'm just ranting don't mind me it's fine I am continuing to exist as usual I may delete this later bc it's a bit of a bummer to read #I prefer to keep my blogging to fun or otherwise nonserious content because it's supposed to be for decompression no real world drama here #I got into a 3 hour body language study and earned $50 so I spent that as fun money on a couple games during the Steam sale just to #take a break from the constant cycle of getting paid and then immediately saying goodbye to all but about 15 cents #(well it was 1 game Slime Rancher 2 and then 2 expansion packs one for Planet Zoo and another for Cities Skylines long play hours mileage)#I've tried to budget to buy small things like a fan or a toothbrush maybe (mine is 8yrs old and doesn't charge sometimes) but NOPE #let alone stashing away over $2000 for the amount of treatment I need given tooth extractions are $200-$500 each #I use about $50 of groceries a week ($30 USD) sometimes up to $80 if I need to buy some extra toiletries or bonuses like ham/falafel/bread #our last quarterly power bill was $1900 FOR NO REASON even for a winter one #olessan oration #the work I have is HIT/mturk type work which pays amazingly well and I am so grateful because I can't work in a traditional environment due #my inability to sleep/wake on anyone else's schedule and need for engaging work but it also means each worker is basically a contract worke #picking their own hours which is VERY HARD to stick to for me since I may also have ADHD-i but that diagnosis also costs like $2000 in Aus #so I'm doing my best fucking lmao #I have a set minimum hours I want to keep up to and move to full time but I am so exhausted by the constant background noise of #the tooth problems that I burn out very quickly #like the tooth ache isn't that bad #the tooth is actively dying but the pain isn't unbearable it just shits me off at all times #it's bearable most of the time and doesn't affect my sleep unless the temp is cold or something #it's been bad this week tho so I've gone through almost all my ibuprofen managing it #the tooth that broke off broke off earlier in the year and the gum has mostly healed over and the dead root is concealed inside my gums now #that stopped being painful in mid 2021 but when it died it was pretty bad it did stop me sleeping for a couple weeks #Christmas 2021 involved me contemplating ripping the tooth out myself lmao #the nerve eventually died seemingly without an abscess #unless I DID have an abscess but that seems extremely unlikely because abscesses are SEVERE AND HORRIBLE AND LIFE THREATENING #sometimes I can feel the tooth ligament wiggling on its own or I like flex it by accident it's so weird bc the tooth is gone so #the ligament is still holding onto the root but with way less weight #anyway I am eating my mac n cheese n veg with the side that has the missing tooth because the cavity tooth has a big bruise along the gumli #gumline which may be from overzealous brushing (I fill the tooth will temporarily filling putty and it needs to be cleaned well when the #putty falls out)

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dailymanners · 4 months ago

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Tips and ideas for how to respond when someone is being rude to you

For personal reasons I won't get into, I have a history of just freezing when some is rude / hostile / aggressive / condescending / patronizing / etc. It's obviously not something I'm happy about at all, most people who freeze or fawn aren't happy about it and would change it if they could.

One day I confided in my co-worker, a middle aged woman in her 50's, that this is something I struggle with. Considering how confident and assertive she always struck me as, I was shocked when she told me this is also something she's struggled with.

The advice she gave me is to just memorize and practice a few broad statements or reactions that you can pull out of your pocket so to speak when someone is being rude or disrespectful to you. It's not easy if you're someone who's been conditioned to freeze or fawn, but practice helps. Practice saying these things when you're alone. Put up a sticky note next to your bed or on your bathroom mirror with these phrases and practice them when you see them. Practice saying these with a partner or trusted friend, role-play scenarios where you might need to use these phrases.

Here's a few phrases that have worked for me. The nice thing about them is that they tend to shut down the situation rather than escalating, while still letting the aggressor know that you don't find their behavior acceptable.

"Are you okay?"

This works well in professional settings, because it's not like your work place's residential bully can run to HR about you asking if they're okay (but they might if you try to retaliate and give them a taste of their own medicine). However, it still effectively sends the message "I think there's something wrong with your behavior and don't accept it". It's also not likely the response they're expecting, so it'll likely throw them off and prevent further verbal aggression.

"Could you repeat that for me? I didn't catch what you said."

This one is most effective for people you believe to actually have a conscious and might regret what they said if they actually thought about it a little more. I find that often when I do this one, when people repeat the rude/snippy/patronizing/etc thing they either shamefully stumble over their words and show some remorse, or they change altogether what they say. In the off chance they don't regret what they said and end up repeating exactly what they said, this at least buys you some time to think of a better reaction since you're no longer caught off guard by a sudden rude and snippy remark.

"Can you explain what you mean by that?"

Similar logic to the last one. Often when people are being rude/snippy/patronizing/etc they're caught up in their own emotions in that moment and didn't think it through. This is a polite and civil way of putting their rude behavior in the spotlight and making them reconsider what they said. The other advantage to this one is that in case you did misread their intentions and they meant no harm by what they said or did, this gives them an opportunity to clarify that, instead of you just feeling bad over a statement or actions they actually had no ill intentions with.

If anyone has any further examples of reactions / responses / statements that have worked for them, I'd love to hear about them. I'm new to studying the art of how to civilly yet effectively shut down bad behavior from others, so I'm always open to hearing more suggestions.

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 7 months ago

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average United States contains 1000s of pet tigers in backyards" factoid actualy [sic] just statistical error. average person has 0 tigers on property. Activist Georg, who lives the U.S. Capitol & makes up over 10,000 each day, has purposefully been spreading disinformation adn [sic] should not have been counted

I have a big mad today, folks. It's a really frustrating one, because years worth of work has been validated... but the reason for that fucking sucks.

For almost a decade, I've been trying to fact-check the claim that there "are 10,000 to 20,000 pet tigers/big cats in backyards in the United States." I talked to zoo, sanctuary, and private cat people; I looked at legislation, regulation, attack/death/escape incident rates; I read everything I could get my hands on. None of it made sense. None of it lined up. I couldn't find data supporting anything like the population of pet cats being alleged to exist. Some of you might remember the series I published on those findings from 2018 or so under the hashtag #CrouchingTigerHiddenData. I've continued to work on it in the six years since, including publishing a peer reviewed study that counted all the non-pet big cats in the US (because even though they're regulated, apparently nobody bothered to keep track of those either).

I spent years of my life obsessing over that statistic because it was being used to push for new federal legislation that, while well intentioned, contained language that would, and has, created real problems for ethical facilities that have big cats. I wrote a comprehensive - 35 page! - analysis of the issues with the then-current version of the Big Cat Public Safety Act in 2020. When the bill was first introduced to Congress in 2013, a lot of groups promoted it by fear mongering: there's so many pet tigers! they could be hidden around every corner! they could escape and attack you! they could come out of nowhere and eat your children!! Tiger King exposed the masses to the idea of "thousands of abused backyard big cats": as a result the messaging around the bill shifted to being welfare-focused, and the law passed in 2022.

The Big Cat Public Safety Act created a registry, and anyone who owned a private cat and wanted to keep it had to join. If they did, they could keep the animal until it passed, as long as they followed certain strictures (no getting more, no public contact, etc). Don’t register and get caught? Cat is seized and major punishment for you. Registering is therefore highly incentivized. That registry closed in June of 2023, and you can now get that registration data via a Freedom of Information Act request.

Guess how many pet big cats were registered in the whole country?

97.

Not tens of thousands. Not thousands. Not even triple digits. 97.

And that isn't even the right number! Ten USDA licensed facilities registered erroneously. That accounts for 55 of 97 animals. Which leaves us with 42 pet big cats, of all species, in the entire country.

Now, I know that not everyone may have registered. There's probably someone living deep in the woods somewhere with their illegal pet cougar, and there's been at least one random person in Texas arrested for trying to sell a cub since the law passed. But - and here's the big thing - even if there are ten times as many hidden cats than people who registered them - that's nowhere near ten thousand animals. Obviously, I had some questions.

Guess what? Turns out, this is because it was never real. That huge number never had data behind it, wasn't likely to be accurate, and the advocacy groups using that statistic to fearmonger and drive their agenda knew it... and didn't see a problem with that.

Allow me to introduce you to an article published last week.

This article is good. (Full disclose, I'm quoted in it). It's comprehensive and fairly written, and they did their due diligence reporting and fact-checking the piece. They talked to a lot of people on all sides of the story.

But thing that really gets me?

Multiple representatives from major advocacy organizations who worked on the Big Cat Publix Safety Act told the reporter that they knew the statistics they were quoting weren't real. And that they don't care. The end justifies the means, the good guys won over the bad guys, that's just how lobbying works after all. They're so blase about it, it makes my stomach hurt. Let me pull some excerpts from the quotes.

"Whatever the true number, nearly everyone in the debate acknowledges a disparity between the actual census and the figures cited by lawmakers. “The 20,000 number is not real,” said Bill Nimmo, founder of Tigers in America. (...) For his part, Nimmo at Tigers in America sees the exaggerated figure as part of the political process. Prior to the passage of the bill, he said, businesses that exhibited and bred big cats juiced the numbers, too. (...) “I’m not justifying the hyperbolic 20,000,” Nimmo said. “In the world of comparing hyperbole, the good guys won this one.”

"Michelle Sinnott, director and counsel for captive animal law enforcement at the PETA Foundation, emphasized that the law accomplished what it was set out to do. (...) Specific numbers are not what really matter, she said: “Whether there’s one big cat in a private home or whether there’s 10,000 big cats in a private home, the underlying problem of industry is still there.”"

I have no problem with a law ending the private ownership of big cats, and with ending cub petting practices. What I do have a problem with is that these organizations purposefully spread disinformation for years in order to push for it. By their own admission, they repeatedly and intentionally promoted false statistics within Congress. For a decade.

No wonder it never made sense. No wonder no matter where I looked, I couldn't figure out how any of these groups got those numbers, why there was never any data to back any of the claims up, why everything I learned seemed to actively contradict it. It was never real. These people decided the truth didn't matter. They knew they had no proof, couldn't verify their shocking numbers... and they decided that was fine, if it achieved the end they wanted.

So members of the public - probably like you, reading this - and legislators who care about big cats and want to see legislation exist to protect them? They got played, got fed false information through a TV show designed to tug at heartstrings, and it got a law through Congress that's causing real problems for ethical captive big cat management. The 20,000 pet cat number was too sexy - too much of a crisis - for anyone to want to look past it and check that the language of the law wouldn't mess things up up for good zoos and sanctuaries. Whoops! At least the "bad guys" lost, right? (The problems are covered somewhat in the article linked, and I'll go into more details in a future post. You can also read my analysis from 2020, linked up top.)

Now, I know. Something something something facts don't matter this much in our post-truth era, stop caring so much, that's just how politics work, etc. I’m sorry, but no. Absolutely not.

Laws that will impact the welfare of living animals must be crafted carefully, thoughtfully, and precisely in order to ensure they achieve their goals without accidental negative impacts. We have a duty of care to ensure that. And in this case, the law also impacts reservoir populations for critically endangered species! We can't get those back if we mess them up. So maybe, just maybe, if legislators hadn't been so focused on all those alleged pet cats, the bill could have been written narrowly and precisely.

But the minutiae of regulatory impacts aren't sexy, and tiger abuse and TV shows about terrible people are. We all got misled, and now we're here, and the animals in good facilities are already paying for it.

I don't have a conclusion. I'm just mad. The public deserves to know the truth about animal legislation they're voting for, and I hope we all call on our legislators in the future to be far more critical of the data they get fed.

#big cats #tiger king #my research #news #big cat public safety act #animal welfare #big cat welfare #legislation and regulation #vent post #long post #crouchingtigerhiddendata #more on the problems with the bill in the future

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corkinavoid · 5 months ago

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DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #batman #joker #danny refuses to die #not again #at least this time he gets to make it funny #the bats are mostly confused #is he a meta?#but what kind of meta just... cant die?#what?#cork prompts #just silly thoughts

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 4 months ago

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I love your work, could you please write a viktor x reader who takes care of him. like makes sure he eats, they make baked goods for him or make him go to bed in time. I think it would be cute

Heyo! Sure I can, even if it’s been a while since I wrote for Viktor (or anything) lmao

Caretaker!Reader

Viktor takes well enough care of himself, to his own standards

So we all know he can use a little more help and a little helping hand

I think Viktor is pretty independent so it takes a lot out of him to even be able to do this kind of intimate thing with you

If he does, it takes a lot of vulnerability as you would see him at his lowest

There have been times where he probably refused and would try and get out of any situation where you found out he needed help and to be taken care of

He doesn’t want to bother you or anything when he deems it able to be done by himself

It takes a while for him to be comfortable enough with you and your relationship to let himself be vulnerable in that way

As he has never done this kind of thing with anyone else before

But once it happens, trust me, you’re golden

I think he does like sweets and baked goods, so to have you bring him any on a whim and not because you have to, but because you care warms his heart absolutely

He often forgets to take care of himself and his basic needs, like eating and stuff like that for his experiments and research

So he relies on you for that a little bit once he knows you will always be there for him

He loves when you cook or bake for him and knowing it’s so he knows he’s taken care of makes each bite better than the last

At first when you attempted to get him on some sort of decent sleep schedule, he resisted

He went to bed whenever, or whenever his research was done or he passed out and often it was in the lab or at his desk or in the middle of his studying at the table

SOO you would often have to bring him to bed yourself

Once you wore him down enough, he acted like you won

You thought you did until you found out he was just waiting till you fell asleep and slipped out off bed, and slipped back in just before you woke up and pretended to wake up beside you

You had to scold him probably, or it was some sort of argument

He realized you just wanted him to be healthy, and for him to be well rested

Reluctantly, he began going to sleep with you and waking up beside you in the mornings

He found he actually did like this habit because sleeping beside you was surprisingly comforting

He loved hearing your breathing pattern as you fell asleep, and it helped him fall asleep to hear and feel your heart beating as you both snuggled to sleep

And he loved watching you wake up slowly in the mornings

It was all worth it

One thing he was very stubborn about you not doing was taking care of his leg I think

Probably because he feels as his sort of disability is a bother enough, he doesn’t want you to be burdened with it

He probably thinks that if you see that part of him, you’ll think he’s not worth it and leave

And that’s not the case

He only finds out on a particularly harsh day when it hurt so bad, and it was so sore all he could do was want to fall asleep and alleviate the pain by any means

You maybe kissed his leg, maybe rubbed out the pain, maybe helped him in any way

But as you did it, he loved the feeling and could only watch you do so and the warm feeling in his chest never left

So, on the hard days, he would drop subtle hints that he wanted to be taken care of

Like subtly saying “oh, it just hurts, I have no clue how to fix it…” and wait for you to offer to rub it

I feel he likes being babied a little bit, but not to much

He doesn’t like being treated as glass or like he is incompetent

But he does love being taken care of by you

Be it food, tending to him or showering or making sure he is fed and clean

He loves showering with you

He loves having you wash his hair and the feelings of your hand in it or feeling you lather the soap on him while he just gets to relax and close his eyes and know your there

And that he’s able to soak in all the love

Obviously he returns it all in his own way but

It’s just all the love you pour in

#arcane viktor x you #arcane x reader #arcane #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x you #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #arcane reader

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nikkento-writes · 8 months ago

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Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?”

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.”

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!”

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy.

Toji, on the other hand, is another story.

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you.

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas.

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby.

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence.

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad.

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time.

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with.

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho.

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.”

And apparently, so are you.

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job.

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working.

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.”

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen.

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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chuluoyi · 9 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, marriage of convenience, explicit smut, pregnancy

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the second part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.2k ! thank you so much for your love in the first part🩵 but as of now, TAGLIST IS CLOSED so i'd appreciate it if the comment section won't be flooded with asks for tags :')

credit header goes to @/mongsanghwa in twitter!

prev. all hail the empress | last. long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

Heavens, help me... I love her too damn much!

For Gojo Satoru, love was once an abstract concept. At first, he thought it was admiration, or a sense of obsession—

But on the day he watched you become Zen’in Naoya’s bride, Satoru realized it was much deeper than that. It felt like the sharpest sword had pierced straight into him and lodged itself there.

And then, years later— as if hearing his prayers, you became his. Since then, his life was perfect, because he wasn't lying when he said that you were everything he wanted in life.

Yet in a twist of fate, that same sinking, horrific feeling washed over him... as he watched the pagoda he built for you engulfed in flames.

You were there. Satoru felt himself staggering as he took in the mortifying sight. You and his unborn child are inside!

He didn't waste a breath as he dashed towards where you were, crushing everything in his path in the process, but just as he was about to enter the scorching temple—

“Satoru, no!” Suguru grabbed him, restraining him with his own body. “Get back!”

“No!” he screamed at him frantically. “She is there! Suguru, let go—!”

And then the worst happened, as the pagoda completely crumbled into a heap of rubble. Satoru's breath was knocked out of him as he faced the reality that he couldn't save you in time. And he felt like losing his consciousness as he wheezed, and thrashed in Suguru's hold.

It was all too much for him to comprehend as he struggled against the devastation before him.

How... did this happen? You were happy. You were about to welcome a child into your lives! The two of you really were...

SEVERAL WEEKS PRIOR

Your husband is trying to use you to wage a war... against your homeland.

You secluded yourself in your study, trying to make sense what you just overheard.

In a broader perspective, Satoru's actions could be constituted as national defense. If he perceived the Eastern Empire as a threat, then countermeasures were indeed necessary. But if not...

Regardless, it was not the very idea that blew you, but how he planned to use you to sway sentiment in your former country, to weaken them.

Is that what he's been aiming all this time? You felt like a hypocrite to question this since you too were using him. But these days, you were certainly not using him—you were falling in love with him.

It was strange, because you were supposed to be furious if that was his intent from the start. Yet what you felt right now was profound sadness, possibly even denial and heartbreak. You kept thinking how there must be another explanation—

“Sweetheart, hello~!”

You were startled when the door to your study was suddenly flung open, and the man from your thoughts strode in with a broad grin, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"Satoru." You fixed him with a genial smile, even as nausea churned within you. Straightening your skirts, you looked up at him.

"I've been told you haven't been well, and Shoko said you've seen the physician," Satoru frowned, his long fingers cradling your face as he half-sat on your desk. "How did it go? What did he say?"

"Oh..." you clammed up, feeling at loss. "He said..."

Your dashing husband tilted his head curiously, bright eyes softened, worried lines etched on his face were so clear... and despite your conflict, you didn't have the heart to deny him this news.

"I'm with child." This time, your smile was genuine as you pushed back your intrusive thoughts. "Satoru... I'm carrying our child."

For a full ten seconds, Satoru was stunned, staring at you with a blank expression, his lips slightly parted. "H-huh...? Child? A... baby?"

"Mm-hm. A living baby."

"O-oh..." Satoru blinked his eyes rapidly—looking at your face, then your abdomen—before his expression broke into absolute wonder, broadly grinning. "T-that's... oh— it's—!"

To say he was speechless didn't cut it as he stuttered, messed his hair, pinched his own cheek, becoming restless yet looking so incredibly giddy—

"My queen!" Satoru suddenly lifted you and spun you around midair. "My beautiful wife—!" before gently sitting you on the desk and burying his face in your skirts, hugging your waist tightly. "Good lord, I'm— I'm so—!"

It hadn't truly dawned on you until now that you were going to become a mother. Witnessing Satoru's unabashed reaction as he nestled his face into you… nearly brought tears to your eyes.

Right in this moment, you didn't entertain any other thoughts. You were deeply moved by your husband's overwhelming excitement for your baby. And the realization that, despite Naoya's accusations—

Satoru looked up at you the second you sniffled, and he immediately drew you closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Hey, no tears, yeah?" He rested a hand on your jaw, his eyes sparkling with utter adoration as he gazed at you. "This is wonderful. We're going to be parents. This child... a part of you and me—we're going to bring them into the world."

You tugged his collar close and brushed your lips against his. And he responded with equal fervor. You yearned for this closeness with him.

. . .

But still in the back of your head, that lingering, buried fear whispered—

Is the man who adores you this much... capable of hurting you to the same extent?

With your bare bodies pressed closely, and you under him, Satoru could sense the rapid beat of your heart. And in return, you felt the heat of his palms against your skin and the tremors in his breath.

Yet now, in your marital bed, it quickly became clear to him that you, who were usually so composed and collected, were nervous. Satoru couldn't suppress the smile spreading across his face even if he tried.

"This is far from our first time, Empress." His coy smirk taunted you as he littered kisses along your jawline and chest. "What are you so jittery about, hmm?"

"Ah..." you let out a soft sigh as he sucked your breast with his mouth. "N-nothing... you're mistaken."

"Hmm... not confessing? Right..." He then grabbed the generous mound of your other breast and fondled it, making you squirm and moan.

But in the midst of this eroticism, suddenly your mind was thrown back to—

“That’s why I have her here.”

"Satoru," you breathed out, catching his hands. He looked up to you in slight surprise, thinking that you wanted to stop.

But he was in for a plot twist when you first pushed him, then flipped him underneath you, straddling him and capturing his lush lips, yanking his hair in the process.

"Whoa— hey..." Satoru held your hips, visibly startled but clearly enjoying your sudden whim, snickering. "My queen—ohh— you're a sight to behold, on top of me."

He grabbed the flesh of your bottom, sinking his fingers into it and pulling you forward. You let yourself be moved until your thighs were next to his ears.

Suddenly, it was, at once, the most peculiar experience—the greatest confidence boost you had ever received, and the hottest thing he had ever seen.

"You're so damn wet already," your husband nipped your inner thigh playfully as he observed your folds, and you gasped. "Are you ready?"

In response, you slammed yourself onto his face because, right now, you were in a less than forgiving mood.

"You look good under me," you darkly retorted, but then you choked on your own breath when your husband started licking your folds messily with his tongue.

Satoru smirked at the sound of your breathless noises, responding by lapping even more fervently. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tightening their grip on his scalp as you began to grind yourself against his face.

"You a-are really n-nasty!" you moaned, voice breaking at the feeling his sinful tongue parting your opening. "Maybe y-you have lied to me… all th-is time."

Satoru furrowed his brows in slight confusion, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, as he pinched your clit in retaliation, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.

"You're— awful!" but contrary to your claims, your face contorted with pleasure as the tight coil in your belly spasmed. "How m-many women... h-have you beguiled like m-me?"

He almost laughed into your ass. Literally. If being called awful was the price for pleasuring the most beautiful woman in the lands, then Satoru would be happy to be that horrible person every day of his life.

But then, you suddenly shifted on top of him, no longer positioning your hips in his face, and he quickly caught your face, crashing his lips against yours so both of you wouldn’t part for even a second.

"Nobody else," he murmured, wet lips and tongue ravishing yours, so much lust glistening in his eyes. "I'm all yours— forever." Just as he whispered it amidst pants, he groaned when your hand sneakily went to his very hard length.

And firmly grasped it. He got swollen just by tasting you and hearing your noises earlier. He growled, and against his senses, he pushed you down to lodge it inside you, penetrating and splitting you apart in one go.

“Ah—! Satoru— it’s too…!” you babbled breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders, feeling his huge cock pulsing inside your tight walls.

“Your fault,” he rebuked, eyes narrowing into darker shades, rigorously moving his hips against yours as he sat up. It was impossible to hold it in any longer, he could feel it already.

He tensed up, adjusting his position, so close to losing it inside you, and when he heard your dirty mewls and felt you shudder—reverberating through his body too—Satoru gripped your waist tighter, groaning, holding you in place to release his load inside you with precision.

Your body gave in as well, releasing at the same moment his cum burst inside you. Your vision blurred as the nastiest of moans escaped you, yet you felt so safe as your husband caught you in his arms.

. . .

"Are you okay?" Satoru asked worriedly after you rolled off him in the aftermath of your bliss. "Do you feel sick?" Your unfocused eyes met his, and he looked panicked, pulling you closer. "Shit, did I go too far? I shouldn't have, especially with the baby still in the early stages..."

"I'm... okay," you croaked, trying to reassure him. "Just tired..."

Heaving a relieved sigh, Satoru pecked you in the lips.

"Am I... a mess?" you leaned on him with a blissful smile, feeling his cum still trickling out between your legs.

"Yeah... My beautiful mess, that is." Satoru chuckled, reveling in the state of your disarray. "Soon enough," his hands traced your skin before settling on your tummy, a fond smile curving his lips. "Our baby will grow here."

"Yes—" you replied, placing your palm over his. "Do you... want a boy or girl?"

A boy would be the much sought-after prince, and you fully expected him to favor it, until to your surprise, Satoru lightly hummed and pressed a kiss on your belly button.

"Does that matter? What's important is you deliver them safely and they're healthy," he chuckled. "A princess will be nice... she'll turn out to be as lovely as you."

"But the heir has to be a prince..."

"Nah. I can always amend the succession norms. I'm the emperor."

And you giggled next. Seeing how free you looked, Satoru thought you were the woman overturning his skies and stars, and you truly are—as now you are the mother of his own flesh and blood, his future empire.

There will be a nation-wide celebration for you. Satoru insisted it was a must, and he would invite dignitaries from neighboring empires and kingdoms as well.

Including the Eastern Empire.

. . .

“Your Majesty. I... bring a gift and an invitation from the Western Empire.”

Naoya clacked his heel on the carpet, casting a sharp, yet uninterested look at his aide.

“There will be a celebration for—” the poor man gulped uneasily, faltering as if he could foresee how his emperor would react. Naoya scowled.

“Spit it out.”

“The former empress’ pregnancy, Your Majesty!”

“What...?” At that moment, he snapped his head towards him. It felt like everything he had ever known came crashing down. “Y/N...?”

That can’t be possible. For many years both of you had failed. That was why he took that maid and divorced you. No, upon reflection, it was never truly his intention to divorce you—he had wanted you to raise that child if you couldn't bear one.

But then you completely ignored him and had an affair with Gojo Satoru. He was furious. He couldn't bear the disgrace of it all, so he went with the divorce, if only to assert some control. However, the joke was on him, as you ultimately fled with Gojo entirely.

But if you aren’t infertile... Then, what did that make him?

Numerous thoughts ran through his mind. Was it possible that it was his child instead of Gojo’s? How many months had it been anyway?

...or could it be that he is the one who is—!

“No...” he muttered, frantic, taking sharp breaths. “Absolute rubbish!”

The aide stared at him in fear, as Naoya appeared unhinged now. But soon, that fear gave away to pity, as the emperor trashed his desk and howled in frustration— but contrary to the expected fury, Naoya looked like he was mourning, evident by the way he flung everything but the very portrait from his coronation day.

Of him and you. Even after that disastrous divorce, he had never taken it down from the wall of his study. Now, Naoya was staring at it, a multitude emotions clouding his eyes.

This man, just as the aide had always thought, has thrown away the only good thing he has in his life.

“Are the invitations sent already?” Satoru asked with a blooming smile, rolling the yarn out of his cat’s reach as the poor kitty grappled to catch it. “And how are the preparations going?”

“Banquets are usually handled by the Empress, but you really go out of your way and do it instead,” Suguru shook his head, unamused by the added workload it brought him, especially considering his disinterest in festivities.

“They’re all sent, some of them responded—before you ask, Naoya hasn’t— and I’ve cascaded the preparation to Shoko, since I have no clue what to do about it.”

“Well, not that I care if he’s going to stay sour and wants his name tarnished in the daily papers as a bitter ex-husband…” Satoru shrugged, petting Sugu-chan as the cat purred contentedly. “He is tactless, he very well might be.”

“You really want to spite him, don’t you…” Suguru sighed. “You even sent him a note. It was unnecessary.”

“He was the one hurling curses at me and my empress first. I’m just returning the favor.”

The note in question was of lines after lines of flowery nonsense about gratitude and whatnot. Satoru imagined Naoya's vein would burst after reading his card.

“I’m happy for you, Satoru.” As exasperated as Suguru was, his smile was genuine when he said it. “A royal baby, huh...”

"Suguru." The emperor's voice suddenly dropped an octave, surprising him. "What about the placement of the totem I told you the other day?"

The abrupt shift in conversation made Suguru visibly uncomfortable, and again, they were back to this topic.

"You're seriously going to do this?" the duke asked, almost in disbelief. "Satoru, you're going to become a father. You have everything already. This will lead to war one way or another, and—what if the Empress finds out? How do you think it'll make her feel?"

However, Satoru's gaze was cold as he dismissed most of Suguru's tirade. There was a chill in his expression that made his longtime friend inwardly questioned who the man before him was.

"I'm asking you. Have you done it or not, Suguru?"

"You're going to put a curse on a whole village, Satoru."

"I told Zen'in Naoya the moment I got Y/N, that it would mark the beginning of his downfall. I'm making good on that promise."

Suguru pressed his eyes shut to calm his fury. Morally, what Satoru did was wrong, but politically, this was the art of war. Suguru purely opposed to this out of consideration for you.

Few understood Satoru's actions as well as Suguru did. He might understand, others like you and Shoko wouldn't.

"Just remember, when the Empress catches wind of this, she's going to resent you," Suguru warned. "No matter what your reasoning might be."

Satoru's upper lip curled upwards, his eyes bereft of light, narrowing with indifference.

"Unless you never tell her, that is of no relevance."

Love... has he ever loved you all this time?

Naoya had never been confronted with that question or pondered it, simply because he never considered love existed within the context of something as grand as monarchy.

You were chosen because you were well-bred and well-versed in the arts of nobility. You were indeed the epitome of an ideal empress, a fact evident throughout your tenure.

But...

"Naoya!" you yelled at him and caught his hand. "You're a fool! Why did you keep doing that!?"

It was a long-buried memory, when you were still in your teens, around the time you were just made the crown princess. His hands, bruised and bloodied, and you tended to them.

"I'm not weak, you know," he sullenly barked. "I have to train to be stronger."

"You definitely have to train, yes... but you have to take breaks!" you retorted angrily.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" he snapped back. "It's not like your hands that are injured."

And that moment, you were suddenly almost in tears. Naoya never understood why.

"Don't cry." But his instincts told him to make you not cry. "Don't cry. I'm fine, see?"

. . .

Zen'in Naoya jerked awake from his slumber, realizing he had forgotten what his dream was, that it was still the late afternoon, and he was still in his study.

All he felt was that nostalgic feeling, and it intensified when he glanced up... only to see his coronation portrait on the wall.

It was almost as if you were still here. You were incredibly stunning, he had to admit that. Why hadn’t he realized until just recently?

The way your crimson dress flowed out, and that thin, serene smile on your face... you were a picture-perfect empress, and that was not an exaggeration. No one could measure up to you—

"Your Majesty~!"

Especially not Hanabi.

"Your Majesty, the princess has started holding her head up!" Hanabi, now no longer dressed in rags but rather in one of your dresses, excitedly remarking, "Soon, she will start to—"

Naoya's gaze fell on her dress. He recognized it instantly. That specific deep, vibrant shade of red with serpent-like waistband. It was one of his gifts to you for your birthday. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Huh?" she seems perplexed. "Oh this... I thought it looks pretty..."

But to her surprise, he suddenly flared with fury. "That isn't yours, you dullard," he spat out.

Her expression sank in heartbreak as he continued with his venomous speech. "Know your place." His words cut like a blade. "And I keep telling you, a princess is of no use to the throne!"

Hanabi fought to hold back the tears, because not only had he insulted her, worse still, he showed no interest in their daughter. "She is still of your blood, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice trembling.

"I told you, I only want a heir." His sneer caused her eyes to widen in shock. "Other than that, I won't care."

"Your Majesty, please—" Hanabi was desperate for him to acknowledge their daughter, when she caught sight of your ethereal face on the wall.

He still hasn't taken it down. It made her eyes twitch, and her own anger to rise.

"The former empress..." she stared at your picture resentfully. "You still have her here. We never even have our portraits painted..."

Naoya's icy gaze leveled at her without a hint of sympathy, despite the woman standing before him being the mother of his child.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Hanabi asked, tears spilling from her eyes. "You used to care for me when you thought I would bear you a son. Even if it's a daughter, she deserves love too, doesn't she?"

In the last five years, she had come to know that the emperor wasn't always this manic person. He used to be gentler, or at least not as vindictive.

And she never truly wanted you to be cast away like that. She looked up to you, admired you from up close, and meant it when she said she would carry your legacy as best as she could.

"Are you dumb?" Naoya barked. "I told you to know your place!"

...yet why? Why are people in this palace so harsh to her?

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi. Beware, the emperor is fickle…”

Your unkind eyes, Naoya's disdainful stares even after she gave birth to his child... She didn't even care about becoming the empress anymore. She just wanted a happy life!

"If it was the former empress' child... even if it was a princess..." Hanabi turned to him with determination even amidst her pitiful tears. "You wouldn't cast her aside just like you do now with my daughter, would you, Your Majesty?"

Naoya's gaze, devoid of emotion and filled with blatant disinterest more than anything, shot through her, hurting her more than if it was filled with fury instead.

The lack of warmth in his stare made her feel like being looked through rather than being seen. As if she is that insignificant.

"Leave," he ordered coldly next, turning his back on her.

And there is her answer.

Hanabi had been your maid for five long years. She knew who you were, what you stood for, and your whole demeanor. Yet, despite her best efforts, she could never emulate you in the same way, could she?

. . .

"My lady... don't you know that the former empress is with child?"

Once again, Hanabi felt the sting of ice when her lady-in-waiting delivered the news.

"Empress... Y/N?" she whispered. "How...?"

You were stripped of your titles here, and yet you still remained a queen somewhere else. Hanabi might have won Naoya's favor, but now she was losing it while you had another emperor's affection.

Not much had changed about you. You still occupied the highest seat a woman could possibly attain. Whereas she...

"But she is barren!" she turned to her confidant then, almost in disbelief.

"Evidently not. Emperor Gojo has proven that."

How nice. A part of Hanabi wanted to congratulate you because she knew of your sufferings—how much you longed to hold a baby from your womb in your arms.

How unfair... But another part of her couldn't help but despise you. Because even in your absence, she still had to live in your shadow. Because you, who had lost everything, regained it all so easily.

"And my lady... Emperor Gojo is going to throw a banquet for this occasion next month. You are expected to attend it."

"Sweetheart, you asleep?"

One night, several weeks later, just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt the sheets shift as Satoru slipped into bed beside you.

Though you didn't turn to face him, you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist from behind.

"Satoru... you're back," you murmured sleepily.

"Mm-hmm," he whispered, pulling you closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair, taking in your scent. "Shoko told me you've been in your bedchamber since breakfast. Are you okay?"

"I get queasy if I walk too much, so I've been lying down all day... But don't worry, the physician said it's normal in early stages of pregnancy."

His grip on you tightened, as he caressed your belly. "Hmm, naughty baby. I'm sorry I wasn't here..."

"Where were you?"

For days now, he had been away, and you hadn't really questioned him. You had your guesses though—

"I was overseeing the construction of a new pagoda," he said softly, kissing your neck. "For you, actually."

That was so unexpected that it made you open your eyes fully. "What— for me?" Building pagoda was definitely not a small affair. Usually it was for religious purposes.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby. It's expected to be completed before your celebration banquet."

The tower would be the testament of his love for you and your unborn child. Despite yourself, your heart swelled with overwhelming warmth.

"You're so silly... why do you spend the tax funds for that?" you brushed off the faint heat in your face, not daring to look at him still.

"Whatever I wouldn't do for you?" he cheekily retorted, chuckling.

You had never felt this cherished before, and this time you were certain—you were more than ready to fall in love with this man.

But he... is planning to use you, isn't he?

"Satoru." You shuffled to turn and face him, causing him to crack his lidded eyes open. You gazed at him, placing both of your hands on his face, caressing his face softly.

You're so kind to me. I appreciate you for that. You wanted to tell him various things, but the darkness in your heart ever since overhearing his exchange with Suguru made it hard for you to do so.

"Mm? What is it?" he drawled with a small smile, leaning into your touch.

“You... love me, don't you?”

His bright eyes found yours then, sharp and steady. An impossibly fond smile graced his lips, as if finding what you said the most natural thing there was.

“Throughout heaven and earth,” he proclaimed, his voice steady to match his eyes. “Yes, my queen.”

...then you would trust him, if only just for this moment. The genuine sincerity in his eyes, the raw authenticity in his words... it all felt too real.

And so, even when you were well-aware of the bitter possibility of truth, you leaned in and kissed him, giving yourself to his touch as his hand slipped inside you.

And soon, came the day of the lavish banquet solely held to celebrate your pregnancy.

You were seated on your throne, dressed in a stunning aquamarine gown. The skirt of the dress was full and flowing, spilling onto the floor in a waterfall of shimmering fabric. Upon your head perched your crown of diamonds, glinting beneath the light, and your ceremonial veil to make you look as queenly as you could possibly be.

Everyone would agree that you were a sight to behold, and that you were worthy of every praise possible.

"Many congratulations to you, Your Majesty."

"This is a splendid news! A royal baby!"

"To think that the emperor has settled down... sniff, how long have we been waiting for this...? We almost gave up."

You almost giggled at the way Archbishop Yaga wiped his tears with a handkerchief as he presented you with his gift.

Despite your initial reservations, you enjoyed the festivities more than you expected. You had opposed the idea at first, finding it quite unnecessary, but Satoru had pouted for three long days until you eventually relented to appease him.

Speaking of him, he was equally dressed to impress, looking every bit as an emperor he was in an exquisite aquamarine military uniform and robes. Despite engaging in conversation with Earl Nanami, he kept a watchful eye on you, stealing glances in your direction to ensure you were well.

You nodded at him, and he threw you a wink. You smiled.

Everything was truly going well... until the herald announced:

"Prince Megumi and Royal Consort Hanabi from Eastern Empire!"

There was suddenly a hush over the crowd as the two made their entrance. You stilled, looking at the figure responsible for your checkered life—

Hanabi was starkly different since the last you saw her at the courthouse during your divorce. Her dress was now a vibrant shade of burgundy red, reminiscent of a gown you once wore. Gone was her air of humility, replaced by a display of extravagance befitting a noblewoman.

She is no longer your maid, but Naoya's consort. There was no trace of the woman who once served you. You were actually impressed, as she could actually shape herself into the image of a royal consort.

"Empress." However, your attention quickly shifted to Naoya's nephew, and once also your ward, Megumi, as he bowed before you respectfully. "Congratulations."

A fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you regarded the young prince who had once been a very shy individual. It reminded you of the days spent with him just to get him out of his shell.

"Thank you, Megumi."

"Diamonds suit you far better than golds do. I wish only for the best for you, Your Majesty."

It warmed your heart, really. Using that reference to your gold crown from your time in the Eastern Empire, you could see how much Megumi truly understood your position and bore no resentment towards you.

Could the same be said for Naoya though?

Right after you received his gift—an ornate box that seemed oddly familiar to you—Hanabi suddenly blurted out:

"So, fate has smiled upon you. Congratulations Empress Y/N." She kept that soft, meaningful smile on her face as she offered her felicitations.

Ever since her arrival was announced, something about her demeanor had bothered you. There was a subtle emptiness that seemed to linger in her gaze.

"Thank you," you responded, and that was when you noticed it. There was never any celebration for the birth of her daughter and Naoya, only a passing announcement.

And so, you added. "Congratulations on the birth of the princess too."

You could have sworn her expression fell for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and bowed her head to you.

For a while, you lost sight of her in the crowd, feeling quite comfortable in your dais. Soon after, Satoru returned to your side, and the herald announced:

"Attention! His Majesty the Emperor's gift for Her Majesty the Empress!"

You looked at Satoru questioningly, and he gave you a dashing smirk before turning to the crowd.

"Thank you, all of you, for joining us to celebrate this joyous occasion." The way he carried himself and the sheer confidence he exuded was mesmerizing, you couldn't deny how it made you swoon. "I've been infamous for many things, and I'm sure the tales have spread far and wide. So please, allow me one more gesture with you as the witnesses."

The crowd giggled at his words, and you finally spotted Hanabi among them, quietly assessing the scene.

Your husband turned to you, a soft smile on his face.

"This is for you my empress— my lovely queen. Words can't describe how elated I am to know that now you bear our child." He took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "And it's only fitting that I praise you along with the skies and the stars."

A footman arrived and presented a pearly box. Satoru opened it, revealing a necklace inside. The centerpiece was a large, flawless diamond surrounded by smaller, perfectly cut stones of the same kind. No matter how you saw it, it was truly a work of art, meant to captivate and dazzle anyone who laid eyes on it.

You let out a gasp. "This..."

Satoru grinned, picking up the jewelry and preparing to place it on you. "Nothing much. Just a little trinket for you."

"This is not just a 'little trinket'!"

Your banter elicited another round of snickers from the audience as Satoru fastened the necklace around your neck. The moment he did, the crowd erupted into applause.

"Actually, my real gift is the new pagoda in the royal gardens, built in honor of the Empress," Satoru stated effortlessly, grinning unabashedly. "Feel free to stop by later, everyone."

To the ton, for him to gift you with something so sacred was the height of extravagance. Some of them wondered how you had managed to turn the elusive emperor into someone so devoted to you.

And a few... might be harboring ill will against you for it.

. . .

Later that night, you were sorting through the gifts you had received throughout the day.

"I don't understand, why would you give an expecting woman this?" Shoko picked apart a manuscript that was the gift from Archbishop Yaga. "Who would read this?"

"I wouldn't, but I'm sure Duke Geto would," you replied, and soon the two of you were giggling together.

From jewelry to ornaments, you were pleased with all the gifts presented by the guests from day one. While most were given out of formality, it was heartwarming to imagine your baby seeing all these someday.

Your attention soon turned to the box Megumi handed you earlier—Naoya's gift.

You were intrigued, because what could your spiteful ex-husband could possibly give you? And you immediately reached over to open the lid to find...

"What's that?" Shoko asked as your eyes widened in slight surprise.

Inside the box was an intricate gold and ruby necklace. One you knew well. The very one you wore during your coronation as the Empress of the Eastern Empire.

Years ago, Naoya himself had chosen this piece for you, and now he was gifting it to you, again?

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

Reliving years of your marriage with him wasn't easy. You two were childhood sweethearts, and had been happy in the beginning. You couldn't pinpoint when things began to fall apart, but suddenly Naoya turned into such a person you didn't recognize altogether.

Seeing this relic made you nostalgic, and before you realized it, you touched it, trying to get a better look—

"Ah—!"

Suddenly, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your abdomen. You instantly dropped the jewelry, letting it crash to the ground, and clutched your lower belly.

"Empress! What happened?!" Shoko rushed to your side in an instant, holding you up, and you whimpered.

"It hurts—!" Your breath hitched, as a seemingly invisible knife gutted you from inside. The intensity of the pain was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. "Shoko, please—"

And before you could even scream or think, the pain blindsided you and your vision titled, before blacking out completely.

First came the warmth, then a reassuring squeeze on your hand. As your consciousness returned, you felt groggy, with your surroundings sharpening into focus.

The first thing that became your main focus the moment your eyes fluttered open was Satoru's face, a mixture of fright and relief etched across his features.

"You're awake..." He breathlessly muttered, sitting on your bedside, interlacing his fingers with yours. "How do you feel?"

"Sa...toru..." your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and as soon as he heard you speak, he exhaled sharply, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Heavens, I—" he let out a long sigh, his breath hot against your neck. "I'm so glad... you are..."

"What h-happened to me...?" you were feeling feverish and a dull throb was pounding at the back of your head, before the shock of it all dawned on you. "B-baby...! Our—!"

"Baby is okay too, don't worry," Satoru assured, pulling away from you to gently touch your cheek and squeeze your hand. "Both of you are fine for now..."

The horror that you might lose your baby shook you to the very core. Your vision blurred with the threatening onset of tears.

"Wh-at happened to me, Satoru...?" you asked again as he wiped your first falling tears, your heartbeat sounding so loud in your ears. "I-I was just..."

His expression took on a sudden shift, as if a dark cloud had passed over his face.

"You came into contact with a cursed object," he stated, his eyes hard as he locked onto yours. "You were cursed, Y/N."

"What...?" You were rendered speechless, feeling your body starting to shake. Cursed object? Your past coronation necklace?

Naoya was trying to curse you?

"It's okay, I'm here now, yeah?" Satoru's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, grounding you in the present. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." he repeated, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours with intensity.

“I’m here. I’m here with you. Nothing—absolutely nothing—will touch you so long as I’m here.”

But in that moment, your mind was so overwhelmed with fear for yourself and your unborn baby that you couldn't fully grasp the magnitude of the mess unfolding before you, and you just cried in his arms.

Feeling your feeble fingers fisting his robes and your inconsolable tears staining his collar, Satoru gritted his teeth.

“This won't happen again,” he whispered into your hair, feeling his rage simmering as he felt the tremors of your sobs against his chest. “I swear, I won't let anything like this happen again.”

To Satoru, that was more than enough to justify all his subsequent actions. Putting a curse on his empress essentially amounted to an act of beginning a war.

And it also meant he no longer had to operate behind the scenes.

“Keep them in Clock Tower. No contact. Only food and water at designated times.”

Satoru's icy gaze on the captain of royal guard compelled him to hastily comply with the order, before his eyes landing on the map of the entire continent.

In response to the incident that befell you, he issued orders for open hostility along the eastern and western borders. Soon after, he would formally declare his intention to go to war.

So close. He was so close to achieving his end goal.

. . .

"Satoru!"

Several days later, Suguru burst into his study, visibly outraged. He clenched his fists, looking as if he was about to throttle him altogether.

"You—" he heaved a harsh breath. "You have gone too far!"

"What are you talking about, Suguru?"

"Is cursing the entire winery village not enough for you?" This was the first time Suguru had been this furious with him. "Did you really have to massacre the neighboring district as well?!"

"They have placed a curse on my empress." It was so easy for him to say it. "Anyone who dares to harm her shall die."

"You can direct it at Zen'in Naoya! Not the innocent civilians!"

Satoru remained silent, neither shaken nor enraged, and he had finally had enough.

“Are you even sure it’s because the empress is cursed?" Suguru challenged. In his view, this farce had been going on too long.

“No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You were informed, days later.

“His Majesty has placed the prince and royal consort of the Eastern Empire under strict watch in Clock Tower.”

Clock Tower was essentially the prison where they kept war criminals. Learning that Satoru had confined both Megumi and Hanabi there left you aghast.

After some days of bedrest and getting better, you realized that the entire situation still didn't make sense to you. As hateful as Naoya was, harming you would do him more harm than good. Eastern and Western Empires stood evenly matched in military power, and hence, a conflict between them would bring devastation to both sides.

And moreover, you knew for sure was that Megumi was definitely not the one responsible for this. He was just a boy!

You had to let him out somehow. You had to talk to Satoru about this.

Or at least that was what you thought when you came close to his study.

“Are you even sure it's because the empress is cursed? No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You stopped on your tracks—stunned into place, to be exact.

“And you’ve struck gold when she did because her influence will provide you with greater advantage.” Suguru scoffed then, lightly shaking his head with a sneer. “Love? How laughable. All these years, you are planning your warpath, how could you claim you love her when you're trying to ravage her homeland without even considering the impact it would have on her?”

It felt like whiplash. Geto Suguru's voice had your feet rooted to the spot, causing all your doubts to resurface and sizzle in an instant. The very question you had tried to avoid, it was suddenly shoved in your face.

What... will Satoru say? Your heart thumped so loud in your ears it made you almost stagger. He couldn't possibly. He simply couldn't. All his actions... they reflected his affection for you and you believed it because you felt it yourself too.

But Satoru's next response was—

“Even when she is derided as the devil, I will bring an end to the Zen’in line in this lifetime.”

And a part of your heart withers then.

The tips of your fingers trembled, finally taking in everything that you had tried to ignore for the past few weeks. It all caught up to you in one overwhelming rush.

Suddenly, it felt as if something inside your chest was torn out and held up for you to see.

"I'm telling you, that day will come sooner than you think, Satoru." Suguru's voice broke through, his frustration palpable. His words snapped you out of your reverie, and you took a step back, retreating to the safety of your study.

The first time you felt utter hollowness wrecking you was when you had suspected that Naoya might have taken Hanabi to his bed. The feelings overwhelming you now were eerily similar to how you felt back then.

Only in this case…

You had used him first, and if he used you in return... you couldn't fault him.

But isn't it still a bitter truth, even when a mutual transaction is very well within his rights, to know that what you believe as love may apparently not really be the case?

Love... of course, he loves you.

Of that, he was certain.

But at the same time… he had his ambitions.

Destroying the Eastern Empire. Was it so wrong that he wanted it? Didn't you want this as well? After all, Naoya had spurned you for a lowly servant and made your life hell, didn’t he?

Satoru strolled through the halls and made his way to your study, where the sight of you, so pretty and regal in your seat, greeted him.

His beautiful, graceful wife and empress of his nation. For so long, he had desired you, and now here you were, perched within his walls. His heart couldn't be more full— his life is complete already.

"Sweetheart, hey... how are you feeling today?" an adoring grin was visible on his face as he approached you. "Does the baby give you trouble today?"

You didn't answer though, and didn't look at him either. It was quite strange, Satoru thought.

"What's wrong? Is there something—" And when you finally turned to him, the look in your eyes was so eerily cold it almost gave him a chill.

"Release Megumi from your dungeon," you told him with a strained tone. "And return him to his home empire."

The smile on Satoru's face vanished that instant.

"I can't do that."

You rose from your seat, facing him. "He is just a child."

Satoru regarded you with a stern look. “That child you speak about is a prince of the Eastern Empire. He has committed a great crime against you.”

“Naoya didn’t do it.” Your steely gaze was unflinching. “He might be senseless, but he isn’t insane enough to deliberately go into a war he might possibly lose.”

Satoru's eyes darkened at your words, as you stood before him with determination. The way you were so adamant somehow took him aback. “How... could you defend him? He has wronged you!”

It was one question you had expected, and you had the answer ready.

“Even if he has, I could never wish doom upon my own homeland, Satoru. I’ve lived most of my life there, I did a great deal of things there— even if you harbor some sort of misguided contempt or just bloodthirsty enough to lay ruin to Eastern Empire, I refuse to be the puppet for your schemes!”

There it was. You had said it. Everything would crumble once again just like your previous marriage.

Satoru was staring at you in slight disbelief, his eyes gleamed with something that you couldn't really pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment?

“Your life was in danger, as was our unborn child’s. Don’t you care about that—!” he actually had to stop to catch his breath. “Don’t you care that our child nearly didn't make it?”

“And? You must have thought it was the perfect grounds for declaring a war?” but you didn’t relent and questioned him with a scoff. “And afterwards, you would try to use me to gain defectors from Eastern Empire, is that it?”

You saw the flash of surprise in your now-husband's eyes right when you recited his words, but you weren't about to hold back any longer now.

“Now you’re using my safety to justify your actions,” you hissed, feeling like suddenly you understood what all of this was. “You’re quite cunning, Satoru. I’ve heard everything—you will do anything to bring an end to the Zen'in lineage! You won’t even consider the repercussions of my reputation being tarnished across the lands!”

“Is that even important now?” Satoru gritted his teeth to suppress his irritation. “You have been cursed. Do you honestly think I would let them get away with cursing my empress? How could I, who seek to protect you, be more vicious than whoever in Eastern Empire who cursed you with that necklace?”

“You’re doing this for your personal gratification!” you exclaimed. “It is never about me. You’re just a warmonger!”

The moment those words left your lips, Satoru stilled. His gaze on you faltered, and you could’ve sworn hurt flashed in his face.

“Just how low… is your opinion of me?” he asked, his tone dropping, eyes devoid of emotion. “You jump into conclusions only after overhearing something in a passing and yet you know for sure Naoya wouldn’t harm you—” he clenched his jaw.

“You… really loved him, didn’t you?” he asked with a sardonic smile. “I know it already. You won’t ever be able to do the same for me. You can’t even trust me.”

You were rendered speechless. Despite your doubts of him, hearing this still felt like a slap in your face.

Won’t be able to do the same for him? No. That’s not true. You are—

Satoru let out a defeated laugh and ran his hand through his hair, leaving you uncertain whether he was amused or heartbroken by your lack of response.

“It’s funny, how I have loved you for so long... but apparently the woman I believed to have even a semblance of affection for me doesn’t even exist.”

It felt like that one part of you that was capable of feeling love had been stabbed once again.

To say this out loud hurt you deeply, unbeknownst to him. You didn’t mean this at all, still it was what came out of you, out of spite—

“In the end, we’re just using each other. That’s all we amount to.”

Satoru bitterly snorted, finding your accusation so unfair to him.

“How cruel is it that I’m the only one who has to prove this love to you? What about you? You’re terribly, horribly selfish!”

You stayed silent, looking away, caught between the scorching knives that seemed to twist your heart and conflicting emotions in it, uncertain of what to believe anymore. And you didn't really know what heartbreak was like before—

“It has been really exhausting, and I don’t want to bother anymore.”

When his gaze next met yours, dark and piercing, you realized he was no longer the same man who once promised you love and devotion.

“You're free to believe whatever truth you wish. But remember, even if you are my wife and the empress of this nation, should you commit any transgressions… I won’t hesitate to accuse you of treason, Empress.”

You have committed treason.

Satoru had conducted investigation of the sorts just to prove his point. And yet days later, no direct evidence pointing towards Megumi or Hanabi were found in that cursed necklace.

Punishment for treason is imminent death. You were well-aware of that more than anyone, but your consciousness wouldn't allow it if Megumi had to be hanged due to Satoru's antagonism.

"Your Majesty, your kindness knows no bounds," Megumi said, dropping to one knee before you and lowering his head in the throne room. Satoru had chosen not to grace any of you with his presence, leaving you alone to bid farewell to both Megumi and Hanabi.

Since then, you hadn't spoken with him, nor had he visited your chambers. It was as if he considered you nonexistent at all.

And it is really only a matter of time before he finds out.

But at the very least, you were right. It was never Megumi. That boy was fond of you, he could never. So, you shifted your gaze on the woman next to him.

"Royal Consort Hanabi. A word."

It was the cue for everyone else to exit the throne room. Now, you were faced with this woman once again, and yet one thing remained the same— you were still towering over her.

"Why did you do it?" Your calm gaze betrayed a quiet anger that was unmistakably clear. All because of this woman. It was beyond you, how despite having left your past life behind, she had somehow managed to taint your new one as well.

Hanabi looked away, a hint of shame coloring her features. "Your Majesty knows, so why do you spare me?" she asked quietly.

"How preposterous of you to think that I have spared you," you scoffed. "All this time, have you learned nothing at all from standing by Naoya's side?"

She flinched, visibly making herself smaller at your unforgiving tone, still, she dared herself to meet your eyes.

"Can I ask... why you never consider it as Emperor Naoya's doing?" she seemed more confused more than anything, even as her lips wobbled. "The two of you... you don't really hate each other, so why...?"

You didn't want to dwell on why Naoya had chosen that specific piece of jewelry to return to you. If anything, you'd consider it his final parting gift and be done with it.

But the naivety of this woman was astounding. Someone like her wouldn't last long in your seat. You let out a sigh, torn between feeling sorry for her or not.

"You have much to learn about court affairs, Hanabi. And do not think this is an act of mercy. Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."

Hanabi trembled where she stood, her breaths were shallow, and her hands shook slightly as she struggled to maintain composure in your presence.

Realizing it was futile to continue the conversation, you decided to conclude it.

"Know that I will never forgive you for what you have done to me." Your sharp eyes squared on her, the cold ire in your tone making her shudder.

In all the years Hanabi had known you, you had never appeared more fearsome than you did now, adorned in silks of deep blue hues, with that crown of diamonds gleaming in your head.

Then, as if sealing her fate, you delivered these parting words:

"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

The palace felt suffocating for you. After sending Hanabi away, you took a walk in the gardens, followed closely by your ladies-in-waiting.

Good heavens, what have you done? You definitely didn't regret saving Megumi, but no matter how, you had committed a great crime against your own empire. A sentence would loom over your head!

And what about your baby? Would Satoru execute you while you still had his child inside you?

The very thought made your vision tilt, and you had to lean on the wall for support. Your ladies-in-waiting were immediately clamoring against each other.

"Leave," you commanded, trying to catch your breath while doing so. "I'll… take some time to rest here."

It took you a moment to realize you had reached the pagoda that Satoru had commissioned for you. This was your first time visiting it. The structure was magnificent, towering in height and adorned with exquisite decorations, leaving you in awe.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby."

You wanted to cry. His voice, soft and smooth, conveyed those words so easily to you. He really loved you, didn't he? What made you so unsure about that undeniable fact?

And now you had broken his heart.

Your hand reached for your belly. Though hidden by your dress, you could distinctly feel that it had become firmer these days, holding the product of your love with Satoru.

"I'm sorry, baby..." you whispered, heartbroken. "I didn't mean to drag you into this too..."

You felt nauseous, your breaths come in short pants, and you felt a headache coming. It didn't really register to you that you had crashed into the candle table, before you collected yourself and ventured deeper inside.

You just wanted a sense of peace and quiet. You would think more later, and right now, the darkness inside felt like a comforting lull for you to rest.

. . .

Or at least that was what you had intended, until you looked back and saw the swirling inferno creeping through the halls.

It didn't take long for Satoru to figure out you had really orchestrated Megumi's release.

More than his wounded pride, it was the searing pain of realizing that you truly believed he was only using you for his own benefit. It felt like an insult to everything he had done for you.

Why couldn't you see that? Just how hard is it for you to understand?

And now that it had come to this... what did you expect from him? Should he really make good on his word and punish you? It tore his heart to even consider it.

However, what was worse was… did you think he was really capable of that too?

Amidst his heartache, suddenly he heard loud commotion from outside his study, yells and cries of help— and it roused him from his thoughts that he came out of his study, only to come right into a familiar face.

"Anyone! Anyone at all!" one of your maids was running, sobbing and hysterical. "Her Majesty! Please help Her Majesty!"

"What is all of this ruckus?" Satoru demanded, catching the maid by the hand, as she stuttered in tears.

And then, everything came crashing down with the next words.

"The Empress— is trapped inside the burning tower!"

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gurugirl · 1 month ago

Text

Maybe Fate

MAIN MASTERLIST

This was first posted on Patreon one year ago! Figured I’d share it here with y’all on tumblr! 💕

Summary: The first time you meet Harry is under odd circumstances. But the second time you meet him it feels like fate. Well, if you believe in that sort of thing.

A/N: I have a couple of songs linked through to Spotify if you are interested in listening to set the scene - it's not necessary, though!

Word Count: 8,347

Warning: smut, cuteness, loud sex that can be heard by others

Your roommate K had some gall. You could hear her and whoever it was she brought home from the bar going at it for what seemed like an exaggerated amount of time. How was it possible that they could last that long? Why were they still having sex?

As annoying as it was to lose sleep (you had a test in the morning so it was a little more than just annoying) you could admit, it did sound like she was getting it good.

The man, who you’d not yet seen and probably would not be seeing, had a deep voice. And not just any deep voice. He sounded—hot. You couldn’t hear everything that that he said but he was vocal and he was definitely talking dirty to her.

Of course, there was also her bed wildly bouncing and frame smacking into the wall which told you he was plowing her in a way that made you a little jealous. You hadn’t been laid in a while. It was your senior year at university and you were busting your ass like the good student you were. You needed a good grade to get the internship you were up for that summer.

So sleep was vital. And here you were listening as K was getting the life fucked out of her. She sounded like she was crying but then you’d hear her long drawn-out moans of pleasure…

You stuffed your pillow over your head and groaned. If you failed your test the following day you’d be having a word with her about proper roommate etiquette. They could keep it down. There was no way they weren’t aware you could hear every little thing happening on her bed. You could even hear their bodies colliding every time he thrust into her.

Jesus. You needed sleep. But you also needed to get laid.

. . .

You didn’t fail your test, but you barely passed. But a passing grade was a passing grade you thought to yourself as you ordered your cappuccino. You were exhausted. Memories of what had kept you up had you rolling your eyes.

K was nice. You didn’t know her well, though. You were renting a small two-bedroom apartment and found it through an ad she’d posted. It would have been nice to have a place of your own but who could afford that? So, being stuck with K was more out of necessity than anything. You didn’t have much choice.

And up until the night before you’d really had no major complaints. She was six years older than you and had a regular job. She brought men home from time to time but nothing like her most recent Casanova that shook the whole apartment. And it was funny to you how she was always out partying and drinking while you stayed in on the weekends and studied til your eyes bulged out of your head. It should have been the opposite with you being the college kid and her the more mature adult.

Your plan had been to go home and crawl back into bed to catch up on the sleep you’d missed out on. But when you walked into your apartment you realized that K was still home. Which was odd since it was midday Thursday. Normally she was working.

You tossed your bag in your room and toed off your tennis shoes before making your way to the shared bathroom in the hallway and pushing open the door.

But instead of finding the bathroom unoccupied, you were met with a naked man who looked just as surprised as you were, “Oh shit!”

You turned quickly and put your hands over your eyes, “Sorry! Oh my god!”

The shock of seeing a man’s naked dick when you were not expecting it had you a bit dazed.

“Sorry, I’m covered now. Sorry,” you heard his voice and realized immediately who the offender was. The rowdy Casanova from the night before.

You kept your fingers over your eyes as you turned and slowly parted your digits to make sure it was safe.

He laughed and you verified he was indeed covered. But you did notice all the tattoos on his chest and arms, and his dark curls and soft green eyes… Yeah K was a lucky girl. Damn.

You didn’t stare long, though. But you could tell his body looked like he had a lot of stamina, and after everything you’d heard the night before you understood it all now.

“I’m Harry,” he held a hand out to you in greeting.

You smiled up at him and slid your palm into his, “Y/n. Uh… I’m guessing you’re K’s friend?”

He laughed again. Even his laugh was attractive with a big grin and nice teeth, “Yeah. I guess you could call me her friend.”

“Got it,” you nodded as you backed up out of the bathroom, “Well, I’ll come back when you’re done in here. Honestly didn’t mean to see…” you waved your hand around, “any of that.”

. . .

You didn’t see Harry again after that. You did hear him again the following night, though. But this time you had a picture in your head of the man who was obliterating K with that big thing between his legs and his nicely built body with broad shoulders and thick, muscled thighs.

It was no wonder she was crying out in ecstasy. You wondered if she’d need to repaint the wall where the frame was knocking into the plaster repeatedly. Wondered if other neighbors could hear (surely they could). Wondered what position he was putting her in and how he might look doing it.

Then you heard a loud pop and K’s choked gasp and then another three or four pops. He was spanking her.

You rolled your eyes so hard you felt the force of your sockets nearly separate from your eyeballs. It wasn’t fair. God, what you wouldn’t give to have a man that looked like that fucking you so hard into your mattress you were a blubbering mess and then to have him spank you with those big hands…

You could almost see the dimpled smirk on his face as he landed his palms over her bum. You could hear his voice but it was difficult to make out the words he was saying over the racket of the squeaky bed and K’s high-pitched moans.

And once again, the amount of stamina he had to last as long as he did was quite amazing to you. Most of the guys you’d slept with couldn’t keep going like that or they’d come too fast.

But of course, the longer they lasted, the less sleep you were awarded.

. . .

Graduating from university felt different than you imagined it would. Nothing much really changed. You envisioned getting that internship and starting a new life and making new friends with people who had the same interests as you.

But instead, you found yourself not getting picked for the internship even though you were more than qualified, and moving back in with your parents once your lease with K was up.

Honestly, it felt a lot like high school again, except this time you needed to get a job. And as it turned out having your engineering degree meant zilch when you had no experience to speak of. So you were forced to find something that had nothing to do with the framed certificate hung on the wall in your childhood bedroom.

So that’s why you needed a night out or something. Something to break up the monotony of what this very disappointing after-graduation life looked like so far.

“I know it might sound really lame, but I am going bowling with some friends. On Fridays, they have $10 pitchers of beer and pizza. Cheap fun.” Your cousin, Lee, told you over the phone when you called to find out what her plans were.

But even if you were terrible at bowling, beer and pizza with adults your age sounded really fun. You needed to get out of your parent's house and do anything else. Bowling sounded more appealing than listening to your dad talk about his coworkers and what time he was gonna light up the grill and make hamburgers (then hear him complain about how you don’t eat meat).

Rocket Soul Bowl was one of those dirty, old bowling alleys. The parking lot was filled with potholes and had weeds growing up through the cracks and the inside smelled of stale cigarette smoke, had dim lighting, with old school rock and R&B playing. It was perfect.

Well. Better than watching your parents eat hamburgers while you stuck with chips and potato salad.

You found Lee with one of her friends after you got your used (and hopefully sanitized) bowling shoes and she already had a pitcher of beer on the table with plastic cups.

“Y/n!” She jumped up and hugged you, “This is Chris,” she gestured toward the guy who stood up to reach his hand out for you to shake. “We’re waiting on Harry. And then we’ll start bowling and order pizza.”

You smiled at Lee and Chris and then poured beer into your cup as you sat down on the hard, smooth plastic bench at the table. It wasn’t often you heard the name Harry. Immediately your mind went to the tall curly-headed man with tattoos. Part of you thought how funny it would be if that was the Harry who was meeting up with your cousin at the bowling alley. In all the world, to have it be the same Harry seemed impossible.

But when a Bill Withers song began playing over the speakers and Chris stood up to greet someone who approached you from behind, “Hey man! Good to see you!” It was like something inside of you just knew. Before you even heard his voice or looked at his green eyes.

Placing your plastic cup down you stood up and turned to see him. Harry hugged Lee but the moment they parted from the hug he saw you and the smile on his face changed to a flirty grin. “Y/n, what a surprise. Are you the cousin?” You noted he had a black helmet tucked under his arm.

You nodded and looked at Lee and back at Harry, “Yeah. I’m Lee’s cousin. You guys know each other?”

Lee laughed, “For years. Wait? You know Harry?”

Before you could speak Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you into his side, draping his arm over your shoulder, “We do,” he looked down at you, “Intimately.”

Chris laughed and you shook your head, pushing yourself out from under his arm, “We know each other, but not really. Definitely not intimately. He’s joking,” you laughed.

Harry’s demeanor did not falter, “But we do, Y/n. You’ve seen my cock and balls and bush. I’d say that’s intimate.”

You looked at Lee, still shaking your head, “No, that was an accident–“

“She’s playing shy. Knows very well some other very intimate details about me as well,” he kept his eyes on you, the edge of his mouth playing upward in a smirk, “Isn’t that right?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed as you squinted at him, “You’re crazy.”

Harry pulled you back into his side and put his arm over your shoulder, “I am a little.”

When Lee put everyone’s name in the computer and the match started it was your turn first. You picked a bowling ball you liked the color of and stood along the lines on the slick floors and attempted to launch the ball down the center of the lane but once it got toward the end the ball suddenly veered to the left and only knocked down two pins.

You repeated your move, trying to make the ball stay toward the center but it rolled in nearly the same path as before, veering to the left at the end, this time hitting nothing before it rolled into the gutter and then it was Harry’s turn.

“Better luck next time, Cherry,” he eyed your shirt as he spoke and picked up his ball.

You were wearing a black t-shirt with cherries on the front with the words Have a cherry good time! You rolled your eyes as you sat down and sipped your beer. But inside you were feeling something other than annoyed. In fact, you could say you were quite pleased that Harry was there.

It turned out, as was no surprise, that you were a terrible bowler. So was Lee. Chris was good enough to hold his own, but what was surprising was how good Harry was. He claimed he rarely bowled, that it was just luck. But you weren’t sure about all that.

The four of you sat on the plastic chairs after your first set and ate pizza (you opted for cheese) with a fresh pitcher of beer, “I’m just good at most things I do. I have no idea why,” Harry laughed before taking a huge bite of his slice of pizza.

“It’s true. This guy just learns how to do something and immediately he’s good at it. In our sophomore year at university, I was on the track team and one day I was at practice and Harry just pops in because he wants to chat about something so I tell him I’ve got to run laps so he just goes with me. The whole team was out there practicing in our athletic gear, like just dragging and sweating and Harry’s in jeans and a t-shirt and he’s running next to me not even breaking a sweat. He held a whole conversation while we were full-on running without skipping a beat.”

Chris took a drink from his cup, “Oh, and then there was the time that girl was showing us how to play chess and Harry sits and watches and listens to her explain the game so he plays a round with her and he fucking beats her. Like?”

The four of you laugh but the truth is you’re a bit impressed. You also happen to know another thing he’s really good at, but you stop yourself from allowing that thought to develop further.

The next game you play, you also suck. You barely hit any pins but you were having such a good time you could have cared less. Of course, Harry was just strike after strike. One time he went up with his plastic cup, launched his ball with one hand while he took a sip of beer and hit all but two pins. On his next try, he threw the ball, knocking down the two remaining. But that was him showing off. His cocky grin aimed at you as he sat down.

But the best part was that he sat next to you every time he went back to the seats when his turn was over. He kept his arm over your shoulder with his thigh flush against yours.

It made you hot having him so close. Every time you looked down at his thighs you were reminded of that day you saw him. You knew what he looked like with no jeans covering his bottom half. And you knew those muscles were definitely good for something.

It was hard not to think about Harry that way. He was hot and he was flirty.

And when your mind was wandering into the figurative gutters (unlike the literal ones your bowling ball kept wandering into) about what he’d be like with you in bed you didn’t realize it was your turn as you listened to his husky voice with his arm over your shoulder and his fingers brushing the skin just under your t-shirt sleeve.

“Cherry girl, your turn,” he spoke into your ear, breaking you from your reverie.

Another bad round. You were terrible. You laughed as you turned back to see Harry right behind you waiting his turn, “Come here,” he pulled at your hand, “Let’s do this together. Your form is all wrong.”

“But if I bowl on your turn I’m gonna fuck up your score.”

Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he smiled, “Why would I care about my score? I’m not making money on this or anything. Even if we hit no pins I’m still gonna win anyway. Now get your cute ass over here so we can figure out what’s going on.”

You coughed a laugh and looked back at Lee who was watching the exchange with her brows raised. Yeah, she’d been giving you looks the entire time. You were sure she thought you and Harry had something going on. You could only hope.

Harry moved you up to the line as he stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders and then he pushed his chest to your back, helping you hold the ball correctly, positioning your hands with his, “Hold it like this, yeah?” His voice vibrated off the shell of your ear and down the back of your neck.

“There, good girl, Cherry. Just like that.” He let go of your hands and then you felt his grip on the back of your hips, “We’re gonna take one step forward, and then as you bring your other leg up you’ll swing this back for momentum before pushing it out and letting it roll toward the pins. Follow my lead.”

He nudged you forward before putting one hand on your right arm, “Now bring it back,” he let you swing the ball back before you felt him push the ball in your hands, giving you a bit more oomph in your swing. “And release. Like that…” he stayed against your back as you both watched the ball roll down the lane and rather than either going directly into the gutter or only hitting the last two pins on the left it was almost center and hit half the pins.

You jumped up and spun around, “Oh my god! It worked!” He laughed as you hugged him and you felt his arms squeeze around your middle before letting you go.

“Now try it again. See if you can do the same thing I just showed you.”

You took your bowling ball and lined up, holding the ball upward as Harry showed you, and then moved to swing and release. The ball didn’t have as much power as when he had helped you but it still hit three more pins.

You jumped up and down and turned back, high-fiving Harry as you both took your seats next to one another. It felt good to hit more pins. Something about it was exhilarating and maybe it was the way Harry looked proud that had you feeling that excitement even more so. It didn’t matter, though. You were having so much fun.

But all good things must come to an end. When the last round was nearly over and you were still losing while Harry was blowing everyone out of the water, you were feeling a bit of anxiety at that being it. Maybe you’d never see him again. He hadn’t asked for your number and even though he was obviously flirting with you there was no guarantee it actually meant much of anything.

When Lee took her turn and a Bruce Springsteen song came on you felt Harry’s fingers move to the back of your neck, “What are you doing after this?”

You smiled as you looked at him, his face was incredibly close to yours, “No plans. You?”

“What a coincidence that two young and attractive people have no plans on a Friday night after bowling. Wouldn’t you say?”

You laughed as his fingers trailed over the skin on your neck, “Yeah. Wild coincidence.”

“Actually it is. Maybe fate even,” he grinned teasingly, “I’m pretty sure this means we’re meant to hang out after this. Me and you, Cherry. You can’t say no to fate.”

The smile on your face couldn’t be removed if anyone tried. Because maybe Harry was right. Maybe it was fate. Maybe the coincidences in life that we think of as just coincidences are more than just random occurrences.

“That’s true. Who can say no to fate.”

You watched him lick his lips before Lee sat at the computer and tallied up the score. Obviously, Harry had won, to no one’s surprise.

Everyone stood up to say their goodbyes. Lee hugged you as she pulled you toward the exit with Harry and Chris following behind after you’d dropped off your rented shoes, “So, you and Harry?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I don’t know. He invited me to hang out after this. Maybe just a little fun,” you raised your brows and Lee laughed.

Harry had a black motorcycle, which explained the helmet he had with him, that had coincidentally (once again) been parked right next to your little shitter car.

“Where are you parked?” He said as he looked at you. Lee and Chris were already headed away toward their cars.

You pointed to the car right next to Harry’s motorcycle, “That’s me.”

Harry’s eyes took in your old beater and he leaned against the door, “Wanna take a ride with me? I can bring you back to your car later.”

You nodded, “Should I have a helmet?”

Harry raised up the black one that he had, “You’ll wear this. Okay?”

“But what about you?”

Harry inched in closer to you as he unhooked the buckle on the helmet, “I’ll be fine. My place is pretty close if you want to go there,” he raised his brows at you in question.

“Oh. Sure. Okay.” His place.

“Yeah? Did you want to go somewhere else instead?” He pulled the helmet over your head and adjusted the straps as you looked at his face.

“Your place is fine, Harry. I’d like that.”

When he’d fixed the helmet tight to your head he looked at you and lowered his gaze over your frame with a sexy grin, “Cute.”

You’d never ridden on a motorcycle before. Harry got on first and held your hand to help you on behind him, “Put your arms around me and hold on.” Turned out you really enjoyed the ride. The cool night air whipped around your body while the world around you flew by in a fuzzy blur as Harry safely took you to your destination.

You liked sitting behind him and holding onto his waist. The smell of his cologne or soap was fresh and his body was warm. You felt like a different person on the back of that bike with Harry. You didn’t know what to expect exactly but that was part of the thrill.

Harry turned into an apartment complex and parked at the front before helping you off the bike, “This is my place,” he gestured toward the second floor of the building and then helped you take the helmet off. Which you didn’t need him to do but found you loved his attention on you.

Following behind Harry you walked up the steps to the second level and he got to his door and stuck his key in. Before he opened his door he turned to look at you, “Kind of messy inside. Didn’t expect to have company.”

When you stepped in and he turned on the lights you looked around. It was about as messy as seemed appropriate. Nothing crazy. An empty glass of water next to a bowl of what looked like dry cereal on the coffee table, a blanket bunched up on the couch, trainers by the door with socks tucked inside, and some books on the floor next to a chair by the couch.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water? Beer? Uh… that’s really all I’ve got.”

“Nah. I’m good. Thank you, Harry.”

He sat the helmet down on the coffee table and plopped onto the couch, patting the space next to him, “Come here, Cherry.”

You laughed and sat next to him. Harry pushed his arm over your shoulders, his body angled toward you, “You know that day you walked in on me in the bathroom?”

You raised a brow at him, looking up to his face, “Yeah?”

“I kind of wanted to get your number. Is that bad of me since I was there with K?”

You breathed a laugh through your nose, “A little bad. But why? Sounded like you really liked K.”

Harry cackled loudly and his body shook the couch as he gripped your shoulder, “I liked her. But she was just using me for my body,” he teased, “But seriously. You were so cute and then I never saw you again. Thought about you a few times after.”

You grinned as you squinted at him, “You did not think about me after. Seemed you forgot anyone else existed while you were in her bed that night.”

He watched your lips as you spoke and he nodded, “I tend to just give it my all when I’m with someone, casual or not. If other people happen to hear then that’s fine. I’ve got no shame.”

“Clearly,” you grinned.

Harry scrunched his brows and looked over your face, “What do you like, Y/n? Does it bother you when other people can hear you having sex?”

You dropped your mouth open and blinked at him in surprise, “I… Well, first of all, I don’t think anyone has ever overheard me having sex. It tends to be relatively quiet I guess?”

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever had sex that was quiet. Unless I’m wanking myself off but that doesn’t count. So you like quiet sex, then?” He smirked at you and tucked his lips into his mouth.

You shook your head, “I just mean I haven’t had loud sex is all,” you smiled, “I think it could be fun. Sounded like it was fun…”

“It was. But I like to have fun. Bet you’d like it too.”

You were caught in the moment with Harry like there was a force that made looking away from him impossible. You smiled shyly and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“How are you this cute?” He lifted his hand up to your cheek and you watched his pupils wind over your features. “Cherry girl with cherry lips,” he settled his gaze on your irises, “Pretty eyes.”

He lowered his hand to brush his knuckles down your neck softly and you closed your eyes at the light touch as you released your bottom lip from your teeth.

“Likes her neck touched,” his voice lowered as he spoke, moving in closer to you, “Probably likes it kissed too. Yeah?”

You opened your eyes to look at him and nodded. You did like your neck kissed, that was true.

His thumb pressed the side of your neck as he looked at the skin under his fingers, “Is it okay if I do? Right here?”

“Yeah,” you spoke in a breath before you felt his warm pink lips on your skin and the whole world melted away the moment you felt his tongue lave up to your jaw.

He pressed gentle kisses down your neck and then up to the lobe of your ear, “Tastes like cherries,” his breath warming your skin and making you breakout in goosebumps as he continued using his mouth and tongue all around your skin, his damp lips leaving traces of his saliva in each spot he kissed.

Your breath deepened as you moved your hand to the top of his thigh, “Oh my god,” you whispered, not even realizing you’d spoken.

Harry smiled as he lowered his lips to the collar of your shirt, dotting the skin just above the fabric with pecks, and then you felt his hand grip the back of your head before his mouth was pressed against yours and now you were in space kissing the man that coincidence (or fate) had brought back into your life.

You moaned into his mouth as you placed your hands on his broad back and he leaned over you, moving your back into the couch and licking the seam of your lips before you pressed your tongue against his.

Soft and smooth kisses slowly became eager and wanton. Harry’s mouth and his hands directed the whole thing. He pushed your legs apart and settled himself down between them, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

When he lowered his mouth to your neck again you let out a helpless gasp and he puffed a laugh against your skin but he didn’t stop. You felt his mouth at the curve of where your neck and shoulder met as his free hand grasped your side, his hips pinning you down. It made you dizzy.

You pulled at his shirt, the material bunching in your hands so you could feel his skin under your palm. He was warm and even his back was strong. You could feel him flexing under your hand as he sat up and slid his shirt off over his head.

You followed suit, pushing yourself to sit up and remove your cherry t-shirt. Harry’s eyes honed in on your bra-covered breasts and he dipped down, cupping both sides with his hands and licking over the thin fabric to wet the spot right over your nipple. You were pushed back down into the couch as Harry’s lips worked over your bra and his hands squeezed.

He moaned as he used his thumb to pull the fabric down slowly and then pressed his lips to the plump skin on your tits where the fabric was pulled down.

“Take it off,” you moaned as Harry’s green eyes settled on yours and he pushed his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. He dropped his mouth to your clavicle as he worked to get your bra undone and when he’d finally had success you felt the material being pulled out from under your back as he dragged the bra from you and draped it over the back of the couch.

He dove in right away. Lips parted, tongue out as he wetted your skin and kissed your nipples one by one.

You put your hands into his hair, thick brown curls between your fingers as he began to lower his lips down to your belly button.

You quickly released his hair and unbuttoned your pants, giving him permission to take them off if he chose.

And he definitely did. With his lips parted and shiny he looked at you as he tugged your jeans down your legs before squeezing at your soft thighs running his palms up to your hips over your panties, “Fucking beautiful.”

He kneaded your tits in his hands again and then softly coaxed his hands down your sides to the tops of your thighs, pressing his fingers into the meat as he took you in.

You saw a grin pull up on his face as he dragged his thumb to the edge of the fabric of your panties, “You like me don’t you?”

You laughed, “Well I think that should be obvious, I’m sitting here in my panties in your apartment.”

Harry looked back down to your panties and smiled, “That you are. I can see just how much you like me too,” he looked up at you as he ran his knuckle down the crotch of your panties and that’s when you realized what he meant. You were wet through your panties.

Out of instinct, you began to close your legs when Harry held your thighs apart and tutted at you, “But guess what? I like you too. Want to get to know you real good, cherry. Wanna know just what you like and how you like it.”

You wiggled your toes as your heart pounded with your legs spread out for Harry to inspect as he pleased.

Harry looked up at you, letting go of your thighs, and began to unzip his jeans, “Wanna see how much I like you?”

You nodded and laughed nervously as you watched him peel his jeans off and you could see the clear erection under his briefs. It was curved to the left a bit, tucked under the band of his underwear until he reached his hand in and positioned his cock upward.

You swallowed. You weren’t sure where to look. His strong thighs, his soft abs, his muscled pecs, or the glorious thick erection bulging at this underwear.

Tonight was your lucky night you decided.

“See? Pretty good match yeah?” He grinned as he smoothed his hands over your thighs again and up to your panties, “What do you want, Y/n? Should we take this further?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

He licked his lips again as he looked at your pretty face, “Okay. How far do you want to go with me?”

You inhaled and blinked your eyes. You wanted it all. Wanted whatever he wanted. Hoped he wanted to fuck you with that big thing but you weren’t sure that’s what he meant. Maybe he didn’t–“

Harry leaned over you and cupped your jaw gently, “Seems you’re overthinking a little so I’ll make this easy for you. I’ll tell you what I want and you just tell me if you like that or not. Okay?”

You nodded.

“First I want to touch you, under your panties. Get my fingers nice and wet, finger you a little. Then I want to taste it. Lick you up and down, make you feel good. Then I want to take you to my bed and have loud sex with you so everyone can hear how good I’m making you feel, how good you’re making me feel. Sound good?”

A cracked moan fell from your lips as you nodded, “Yeah. I like that.”

Harry’s grin widened as he let go of your face and brought both hands down to your panties, “Good. Then let’s get rid of these.”

You felt the wetness on the fabric as they were moved down your legs and then Harry’s fingers were running through your labia up and down. His eyes focused on your bare pussy.

When he pressed over your clit he watched your face and hissed when he saw your brows scrunch up and your lips part, “Right there, yeah? You like that?”

You nodded with your bottom lip bit into your mouth, looking from his face to where his thumb was pressed.

He used his free hand to push at your thigh as he continued stroking his fingers up and down, glazing his digits in your arousal before you felt him press at your entrance slowly.

“Open up for me, cherry… there we go, sweet girl. Fuck me…” he watched as he pressed two fingers inside slowly, your pussy wet and puffy. “So pretty. Look at tha’” he watched his fingers slide in and out and back in to his knuckles with the gushy sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers.

“Oh god…” you breathed out your words when he put his thumb back over your clit and began to press and circle as he continued pressing his fingers through your walls.

And the way he fingered you was only making you more wet, making you feel desperate. You moaned and ran your hands up your tummy to your tits, as you watched Harry’s arms flex as he fucked his fingers into you and stroked your front wall.

“Fuck that smells so good, cherry,” he kept his eyes on your cunt as he lowered himself down, “Gotta have some of this.”

It couldn’t have gotten any better than it was. Harry’s fingers already felt better than they should’ve but it did, in fact, get better. Because his big mouth and wide tongue on your clit had you unable to think straight as you let out a whine.

He kept his long fingers inside of you as he focused his lips and tongue on your clit. He could have taught a masterclass on cunnilingus. Even your toy didn’t feel like this. And it was a really good toy.

“Oh fuck!” You cried when he sucked your clit gently, using his tongue to press as he did so. The sound was lewd with his mouth on your pussy and his fingers tucked deep inside of you.

You’d need to bring him with you everywhere if this was how he did it. That toy was not going to cut it now that you’d felt how good it could really be.

When you’d finally lifted your head to look down at him you saw his eyes already opened, looking up at you as he swiped his tongue over your button, pink lips winding over your pussylips and up to your clit.

He let go of your thigh as he reached up for one of your hands and pushed his fingers between yours. You clung to his hand tight and gasped.

The gesture was so intimate, so sexy. It felt like everything he was doing was truly to make you feel good. He wasn’t rushing to get you off. The care and attention he gave you made you feel hot and shaky.

You couldn’t take your eyes off his as he worked your pussy and you began to shake.

You were putty in his hands. Totally unable to stop the unwinding of the tight coil in your tummy as you squeezed his hand and he moaned into your cunt.

And it happened so fast. The snap of your orgasm seemed to even shock Harry as his eyes widened when you began to come in his mouth.

He kept his mouth on you and his fingers inside of you as you cried out and threw your head back. He didn’t let go of your hand, keeping you grounded as every other part of you liquified and then evaporated into the atmosphere. The only parts of your body that remained intact, throbbing, and aching were your pussy and your hand. Only the parts he touched were whole. Everything else was hot liquid soaked into the couch.

Your chest heaved and your brain was fuzzy as he finally pulled his fingers from your hole and looked down at you, “Did you come?” The grin on his face told you he was being playful.

You laughed as you watched him wipe the edge of his mouth with his thumb and lick the mess up, his eyes on you.

And just like he said he wanted to do, he took you to his bed. He helped you up onto your wobbly legs and then kissed your lips, smearing your arousal all over your mouth. The kiss did nothing to make your legs feel solid but rather made you feel even weaker. So his assistance was very much needed to put you into his bed.

His room was lit with a lamp and his sheets felt clean as he pulled the blankets back for you and tucked a pillow under your head.

You watched him take his underwear off and then pull a condom from his drawer before he climbed onto the bed next to you, “Still want more?” He raised his brows at you in question.

You nodded and smiled, “Yeah. I do.” You couldn’t take your eyes off his cock, though. You absolutely wanted more. You wanted the whole shebang and if there was anything you knew about Harry it was that he could provide exactly that.

He grinned at you as he tore the wrapper and gripped himself at the tip, stroking down to coat himself in the bit of precome that had leaked from his slit before putting the condom over his impossibly hard cock. His entire cock was thick. From tip to base. It looked… heavy. It looked like it was going to tear you in half.

Harry watched as you ogled him. He didn’t mind. He was pretty proud of it himself. As he pushed himself up to his knees he pulled your legs apart and settled between your thighs.

He pushed his hips in close to yours and let his cock fall over your pelvis and up to your low tummy, measuring his size in comparison to you. You looked down from where his daunting cock lay heavy over you up to his face.

“I want it…” you breathed your words and Harry’s dimples smiled as he smirked at you.

“Oh, yeah? Want my cock inside your pussy, Cherry? Wanna feel it all the way up here?” He pressed over your low tummy and you moaned loudly.

Harry moved his hips back and then gripped his base as he dragged his cock through your drenched pussy, “Want me to fuck this soft pussy, slip in and out until you can’t handle it anymore?”

You nodded, “Please…”

“Please? How sweet. You are a sweet girl, aren’t you? I like sweet girls, Cherry, and you might be the sweetest one yet.”

Harry teased your pussy some more, his cockhead smoothing up and down, pushing your arousal up to your clit until you began to squirm under him and let out a small whimper.

He laughed as he finally stopped torturing you and pressed his thick crown to your entrance, pressing his bulbous crown to your entrance before he began to push through your tight, wet ring.

You gasped when you felt him entering you, slowly pushing your insides apart until he was tucked deep inside of you. He let out a deep breath when he finally had the luxury of feeling your hot pussy wrapped around him.

He thrust in again, bottoming out until his balls pressed against your ass. And again. And again.

He worked you open until he was satisfied that you were ready for more and then he leaned over you, his hands down next to your shoulders with his eyes on you, and began sinking into you so deep you thought you saw stars limning your vision.

“Your pussy feels just as good as it tastes, Cherry,” he moaned before he began to rock into you with more force, and you could hear the sound of his body smacking into yours each time he plunged in.

“Umph…” you grunted when he dipped in sharp.

“Yeah? Deep isn’t it? Pussy needed stuffed properly. Hm?”

Your body was being pounded into and there were no words that could form on your lips as your tits jolted up and down.

“Let me hear you, Cherry. Let me hear how good it feels. I can tell your pussy loves this, so wet and puffy for me…” his voice was shaky as he railed into you, “Am I treating you right, baby?”

You coughed out a moan and nodded your head as you held on to his forearms, “God! Fuck yes, Harry! Oh fuck!”

Harry’s own moan was loud as he watched your face twist up and listened to the way your pussy took his big cock.

“Yeah? Fuck that feels good, doesn’t it? Pretty thing was made to be fucked. Pussy so sweet needs to have her insides split open every day. Hm?” Harry was breathing hard between words.

“Oh my god… yes. Yes!”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and pulled you up so you were sitting on his lap as he spread his thighs for leverage to continue fucking into you. You yelped at the change of position and how deep he felt inside.

The new angle had his tip slamming into your guts and you grabbed onto his strong shoulders while his hands held your ass, guiding you over him.

Your body flopped up and down on his cock and against his pelvis as he sunk into you over and over again, his hips hammering up into yours.

You began to roll your hips down, smushing your button against him for friction as he continued thrusting upward.

When you finally let out a choked moan Harry gasped and pulled you in by the back of your neck to kiss your mouth. Soft licks against your tongue as your pussy was getting fucked into, had you beginning to shake and fall off the edge of the earth again.

Harry parted from the kiss and held you down on his lap, keeping his dick nudged against your cervix, “Already, Cherry?” He gently rolled upward, “Gonna come on my cock so soon? Can you hold off for a bit longer?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, “Yes. Sorry.”

“Shh… shh… Nothing to be sorry about. Means you like it,” he rutted up into you with a grin before laying you down to your back again, pushing your legs apart.

He began to push into you, his hips slamming against yours making his bed creak and your pussy clench around him. You didn’t know if you could hang on much longer as your thighs began to quiver. His cock was coaxing another orgasm from your body without you even focusing on it, which you normally had to do when you had sex. It was as if you had no say in whether your body should come or not.

“Shit!” He slowed his motions a little and leaned over you to brush his fingers along your cheekbone, “Are you okay?” He laughed as he asked.

You nodded, “I’m gonna come, Harry. I’m sorry I can’t stop it. If you fuck me like that…” Your rounded eyes and heavy breaths had Harry’s heart feverishly pounding.

“It’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong, Cherry. You just needed a good fucking didn’t you?”

You nodded and pulled your lips into your mouth.

“Yeah. That’s good, then. We’ll give you a nice good fucking,” he slowly pulled out to his tip and languidly moved himself back in making you moan.

“We can go nice and slow,” he repeated his motions, his thighs flexing as he held himself steady to fuck into you in long strokes, “Getting you all creamy. Hear it, Cherry?”

You did hear it as you nodded with a whine. The wetness coming from your pussy. The way his cock fucked your cream into your cunt. The way it sounded when he buried himself into the hilt and ground his hips against yours.

Harry watched your face scrunch up and your moans grow louder as he pushed his way into your tummy until he knew you couldn’t hold on any longer.

He sat back and fucked into you faster as he pressed his hand over your tummy, putting pressure on the spot where his cock was sliding through your insides and you lost it. You cried out his name and gurgles of nonsense as the frame of the bed began to rock into the wall and Harry coughed out a laugh at the way you began to thrash around on his cock.

He watched as he rutted into you, his cock disappearing into your cunt, your slick arousal all over his base and in his pubic hair.

You clamped down on him with your legs wobbly and he felt your walls contracting, squeezing his cock tight. He snapped his hips forward, pressing through your spasming cunt as his balls slapped into your ass and he moaned with you.

“Fuck! There you go, honey! Coming on my cock, yeah? Oh shit…” he watched your body press up each time he slammed into you, your face in ecstasy, and your wet pussy swallowing him whole as he finally began to come, releasing into his condom with a groan, “Draining my cock, cherry. Ohhh, ffff…”

Harry punched through your slick opening with the thick crown of his cock as he gushed into the rubber surrounding his dick until he stilled his hips and ground into you, swiveling in circles to empty every drop of himself.

You could feel him pumping inside of you, the heavy throbbing in his dick as he unloaded his sperm.

You both gasped when you’d finished and he lowered himself to kiss you hard. His hands cradled your face as his sensitive dick twitched inside of you.

Lifting your knees you wrapped your legs around his low back and he brought you down to your side, leaving you both connected fully, still kissing, his cock still deep inside of you.

The wave of euphoria that covered your entire being had you feeling so relaxed and so at peace you sighed and pushed your fingers into his hair.

You were surprised by your reaction to how he fucked you. And you wished you could have gone longer but he was so good, or… you didn’t know what it was exactly.

Harry parted from the kiss, keeping his face close to yours, “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable with it.”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex? I don’t mean masturbating either. Just curious.”

You squinted and looked toward the corner of the room before putting your eyes back on his, “Like, maybe a year? Something like that.”

Harry’s thumb grazed your cheek, “A year? So that means when you were living with K at that time you hadn’t had sex since before that even.”

You grinned and nodded, “I was in university. It was my senior year and I was super focused. And it just didn’t happen.”

“Poor thing. No wonder you were so sensitive to me. Came so fast, Cherry.”

You laughed, “I know. It’s never been like that before. Surprised me too.”

“I’m glad we met again. Feels like we should honor the universe and stick together for a while. Stay the night with me?”

You puffed out a laugh and rolled your eyes, “Let’s honor the universe. Obviously, she wants us to have sex and hang out.”

Harry watched your eyes crinkle up as you grinned and he chuckled, “She really does. I’m sure of it. So that’s a yes?”

You scratched your nails along the back of Harry’s head and smiled at him, “It’s definitely a yes.”

. .

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