#went and read the last chapter and yep there it was

[kimboo-york]

The thing that annoys me the most about Jiang Cheng antis is that they are so pushy about it.

Yes, I'm talking about fic that bash on him and/or make him a villain which are not tagged at the very least with "not Jiang Cheng friendly". 🤨

By and large they are obsessed with trying to shove their hate down the throats of anyone who doesn't agree with them, and I just don't understand that. What are you really trying to accomplish?

You do you, haters. I honestly do not care about how much you hate a fictional character. I am 100% not invested in changing your mind. Go in peace!

But damn, stop trying to ruin my fandom joy.

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XVIII)

Chapter 18: Work Song

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

We’re starting to escape the angst here!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 3806

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew was getting a little better every day.

He was getting up without too much difficulty these days. His sleep schedule was a mess, but he was getting some work done. He went to see his parents three times a week, saw his brother often too. He went for a swim every morning and a long walk every afternoon. Sometimes he watched a good movie, spent some time reading. He made sure to avoid being in the same room as you, and had declined some friendly gatherings because of it, but he couldn’t claim to regret this decision.

He was getting better. You were still the first thing in his thoughts when he woke up, the last image printed on his eyelids when he fell asleep, but it was a torturing routine he had grown accustomed to by now.

It was like living with your ghost. The memories of you spending time with him in all his most familiar spaces. His house, his favourite spot to swim, his favourite walks, the pub you and your friends always went to… All familiar, but with an empty space constantly by his side.

Today, Andrew was hurrying out of his house. It was still early in the morning, too early for him if he were to be honest, but his best friend could not be waiting for him on his wedding day.

Despite the sadness that usually tainted his days since that night, Andrew was excited today. Happy and excited. He secured his guitar case at the back of his car, and drove to Sam’s house. He wasn’t surprised to find your car already parked there, but it was alright. Of course, you would be there, it was planned, and known. Andrew had sent you a text the previous night, the first form of communication since your ‘talk’ at your house, asking for both of you to keep the interaction to a minimum so that the wedding would go smoothly. Sam and Daphne were the most important today, and you and Andrew could go your separate ways for good after today.

It took you an hour to answer with a short and polite message agreeing with him and promising to remain ‘professional’, as you had put it.

Andrew was both relieved and pained by that answer…

He knocked, and Sam opened the door in the span of mere seconds.

“Jesus fucking Christ, thank God! You’re here!”

Before Andrew could say a thing, Sam was grabbing him by the shoulders.

“Rings?”

“In my pocket.”

“Spare shirts?”

“In the trunk.”

“Your suit?”

“In the car. And yours too.”

“Guitar.”

“Yep, that too!”

“Your weird drinks for your throat? I swear to God, I will skin you alive if you lose your voice before singing for our first dance.”

Andrew rested his hands on his friend’s shoulders as well.

“Sam, I have everything. Don’t worry.”

“You double-checked?”

“Triple-checked. I have everything. It’s going to be just fine.”

Sam started to giggle, tears shining in his eyes.

“I’m getting married today.”

“Today,” Andrew nodded.

“Fuck’s sake…”

“You’d better let me in so I can help you get ready and you aren’t late to church.”

“Right, you’re right.”

They hugged before Andrew would come in, tight and emotional and full of happiness and excitement.

He was moving towards Sam’s bedroom when you appeared. You were walking out of the room, a bag in your hand. You were still wearing casual clothes, planning to change before the ceremony. You froze, but quickly recovered, offering him a polite smile.

“Hi, Andy!”

“Hi,” he answered with the same neutral smile.

“I’m getting out of both your and Sam’s way! I was picking up a few things for Daphne.”

“Of course. Is she alright?”

“Excited. Terrified. In pure bliss.”

“Same as Sam, then?” Andrew chuckled, and you nodded.

“I’m afraid so.”

You nodded in silence, and Andrew bit his tongue before he could ask you how you were, or tell you how beautiful you looked today…

“See you at church, then,” he smiled and you nodded, taking it as your cue to leave.

He stared as you disappeared through the door.

But then Sam was reappearing, babbling about some stressful detail that was insignificant. Andrew smiled, and patted his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get you ready. Or she’ll never say yes to such an ugly mug.”

Sam and Daphne were married.

It was official. They had both cried, had said yes (Sam was too excited and answered I do before the priest was done with the question), had exchanged rings (that Andrew did carry all morning and for which he checked approximately 2982 times if they were indeed in his pocket), had kissed, had walked out of the church, and finally it was time for the big party.

The eating and the partying were planned outside, under tents that were set in the parc of a large property the couple had rented for the occasion. It was spring, and unusually warm. A clear blue sky with only a few cotton clouds drifting by, and the weather remained that way through the beginning of the evening, as the sun was setting and the moon was slowly appearing in its crescent rise.

The speeches were spoken by a very nervous Andrew and then by you; and you both managed to perfectly balance emotion with humour and embarrassing anecdotes.

The dreaded caterers did an amazing job, that was complimented by the two mothers, and Sam threw a thumbs up at Andrew before starting to eat.

Andrew was sitting next to Sam, and you were next to Daphne, as best man and maid of honour. And Andrew was grateful for it. He wasn’t sitting next to you, and he managed to splendidly avoid talking to you during the day. Still, he could hear your laughter above the loud cacophony of the guests. He couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction every once in a while too, you looked too beautiful in your emerald dress for that.

Andrew pushed the thought away, focusing on the happy conversation that was unfolding around him, forcing a smile.

He hated himself for still wanting you this way…

But Sam and Daphne were happier than ever, and it was all that mattered, truly. They were ecstatic, laughing and smiling constantly, and stealing kisses whenever they could. And it was almost bearable then, the knowledge that you were sitting right over there, and that if he stood up and took but a step, he could hold you close once again.

Pathetic…

When Sam got up to invite everyone to gather outside for a dance, it was Andrew’s and Alex’s cue to get ready. There was a little wooden stage outside the tent as well as a wooden dancefloor, with lights hanging above the space, lightbulbs turning the atmosphere into something magical, cliché and terribly romantic. White flowers were decorating the stage, and hanging from the poles supporting the lights too. With the sky full of stars and the crescent moon above the trees, it was a sight worthy of a magical wedding.

Andrew was soon ready, all plugged in, guitar in hand, with the mic high enough to reach his lips. Alex was right by his side, sitting at the tiny electric piano. He gave Andrew a nod when he was ready, who cleared his throat to announce the first dance of the married couple.

“Daphne and Sam have done me the absolute honour to ask me to sing for their first dance. Erm… thank you again, to both of you, this is genuinely the most important event I’ve ever had to perform for, so… get ready while I try to get rid of most of the stage fright.”

Chuckles shook the crowd that had gathered in circle, right at the edge of the wooden dancefloor. Andrew tried to slow down his heart, take a couple of deep breaths, focusing on the moment, on the task at hand.

“Erm… if you guys are ready, erm… this is Work Song.”

He looked over at Sam, who offered him a nod in return. He had tears in his eyes, and Andrew had to look away, feeling his throat tighten with emotions. And he couldn’t have that now, not when he needed to sing. The first claps were played while Sam and Daphne were moving to the centre of the dancefloor, and they were both a sight to see, under the quiet lights.

Andrew was getting emotional again right before singing, and he looked for a distraction in the crowd as he started the first verse.

He noticed that many were mouthing the words, but not daring to sing. There were too many fond smiles for that, while Sam and Daphne twirled and swayed together, sometimes a little clumsily but with grins making their cheeks ache in the best way.

Andrew allowed himself to look at his friends again for the first chorus, and he kept his gaze on them despite the tears he had to blink away, and the depth that settled in his voice. By his side, Alex was being perfect, as per usual, they didn’t need to look at each other to be in rhythm. They had played this song too many times for that. Muscle memories perfectly combined.

He had to look away again, though, we he caught Sam whispering an ‘I love you’ in Daphne’s ear…

The second chorus was soon gone, and Andrew was trying to calm his nerves, to stay focused on the present, when he caught a silhouette dressed in emerald…

He almost missed a word when his gaze touched yours. And then it was impossible to look away. He blinked, but couldn’t do a thing about it.

You were so beautiful under those lights, under the moon, in this dress that suited you perfectly, for that song of love and devotion that spoke of feelings you sparked within him. He meant the words as he sang them to you. Despite how much you had made him suffer, despite all that you had done… he meant the worship he put in his words when he aimed them at you.

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

He saw your lips quiver, the way you blinked and how your eyes shone a little brighter. He wondered if you were struggling against tears too, the way he was.

And he meant it. And it was fucking killing him, and he wasn’t sure you deserved it after breaking his heart, and he wasn’t sure he deserved you at all… but he meant it. He meant it and he was ready to cry at how much he still loved you. Over a month of trying to get better at functioning on his own, and you were shattering his whole world in just a glance…

That didn’t sound fair at all…

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

He saw the tear rolling down your cheeks, he struggled to hold back his own. Still, he sang the same words again, like a promise, like a prayer, like he was begging for you to see that he meant it, that if you gave him another chance, he would probably take it.

Would he? Anyway, you wouldn’t offer it to him. You had been clear. That’s what the voice in his head kept on repeating, and yet there you were… standing and crying and staring at him with pain in your eyes, a feeling he wished he could have banished forever from your life.

Christ, he loved you still… and he would have done anything, even conquer death, for you…

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

The song died out, Andrew’s fingers knew when to stop playing. He was shaken back to earth by the loud cheering of the crowd, and by your form disappearing as you walked back to the tent in a hurry.

He turned to Sam and Daphne, who were kissing and beaming and glowing while the dancefloor was being flooded with their loved ones. Alex and Andrew gave a small bow, before leaving the stage, the guests cheering for them.

Andrew needed to see you. He needed to find you…

There you were… you were walking out of the tent again, aiming for the grass that stretched beyond the tent and towards some trees, further down the small park. You had something in your hand, he didn’t know what it was.

He wanted to follow, but he was almost tackled over by Sam instead, as he hugged his friend too tightly.

“Thanks Andy! That was perfect! Thank you!”

Andrew couldn’t refrain a chuckle, while Daphne was hugging Alex too.

“No need to thank us for that. It was an honour, truly,” Andrew smiled.

“Come on, let’s dance!”

“No, no, no…”

“Andrew, it’s my fucking wedding! I want everyone dancing!”

“I hate dancing. I don’t do dancing.”

“Tonight, you do. Come on.”

Andrew looked in your direction, but you were gone.

He heaved a sigh.

“One dance. I do one dance, and that’s it.”

“Yes, yes! Perfect, come on!”

Andrew played along, dancing with Daphne for a song. His friend tried to hold him back when he moved away, but then Alex popped out of nowhere.

“As any of you seen Y/N? I wanted to borrow her charger for my phone, she said she’d give it to me after the first dance but… can’t find her anywhere.”

Andrew’s face fell, worry making him frown.

“Have you called her?”

“Tried to, but her phone is in the tent, and she isn’t.”

“I’ll go look for her.”

“Maybe she’s inside…”

“No, I saw her hurry towards the thicket over there,” Andrew shook his head, pointing at the bundle of small trees and bushes, barely visible in the distance.

There was no light in that area. Without your phone as a torchlight, you might have fallen, hurt yourself, fell right into the arms of a complete psychopath… and you had no way to call for help. Not with the loud music that was being played.

“I’ll go look for her. Alex, can you check inside the house?”

“Andrew, she’s been gone for five minutes…”

But when she looked up at the worry on his face, Daphne fell silent.

“Alright, you go, both of you.”

“Text me if you find her,” Andrew told his friend, who merely nodded and hurried towards the mansion.

Andrew bolted in the opposite direction, his long legs devouring distance in the blink of an eye. He jogged across the grass, passed the trees, turned on the light on his phone.

He looked around but couldn’t see you.

Panic was starting to rise in his chest, get a grip on his heart and make his lungs ache for air.

“Y/N!” he called.

No response, he called again, louder this time.

“Andrew?”

He spun around, and there you were…

On the other side of some hawthorn tree. He heaved a relieved sigh.

“For fuck’s sake! Y/N, what are you doing here?!”

“I… what are you doing here?”

He texted Alex quickly, before approaching you. His tone sounded angry, even though he was simply scared.

“I was looking for you, obviously! What the fuck were you thinking, huh? Going off like that, on your own, in the dark, without your phone! Anything could have happened to you!”

“Andrew, I’m right next to the party, at my best friends’ wedding. I’m safe, it’s alright.”

He groaned in annoyance, or perhaps it was simply relief.

“You can go back to the party, I’m alright.”

“You can’t stay here on your own…”

“Why not? I’m alright.”

But Andrew stubbornly sat next to you.

“I can’t let you stay here on your own.”

“Andrew…”

You heaved a tired sigh, while he was setting his phone so that both of you were enlightened by its light.

“You’re alright? What’s going on?”

He finally noticed the way the light was getting caught in the glass of a bottle of champagne.

“Y/N?”

“I want to be alone…”

“Then come back to the tent.”

You looked up at the sky to hold some tears back.

“Hey… why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

You merely shrugged, but you were properly crying by now.

“Hey… hey, stop crying… please, Y/N…”

He didn’t think. When Andrew wrapped his arms around your shaking frame, when he cradled the back of your head in his large hand to pull you close to his chest, when he shushed you softly… he didn’t think. You were crying, you looked so upset… he had never seen you so upset before. You spent several minutes sobbing in his arms, shaking, despite the way he soothingly stroked your back.

“It’s alright. It’s alright, calm down… Christ, Y/N, calm down…”

Slowly, the tears subsided. You were holding onto his vest like your life depended on it.

“My head is spinning,” you blurted out.

Andrew took a look at the bottle. It was half-empty, and he had no doubt it wasn’t your first drink of the night.

“Champagne will do that to you.”

He kept you close even if you were calmer now. You sniffed, buried your face deeper into his chest. He merely tightened his hold on you.

“You’re okay? Feeling better?”

You slowly nodded.

“You want to tell me what happened? Why you’re so upset?”

He was surprised as you laughed.

“Not really, no.”

“Alright… We should get back there.”

But despite his own words, he didn’t move a muscle. Instead, he closed his eyes, tried to precisely carve in his memory how it felt to hold you: the sound of your breathing, the softness of your hair, the silk of your dress, the warmth of your body against his, how your frame fitted so perfectly into his embrace…

“I’m sorry you were worried. I just wanted to be on my own,” you apologized in a quiet voice, it still sounded a little hoarser than usual because of your sorrow.

“I panicked a little bit. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m sorry.”

“I think… I might throw up…”

“Right… let’s get you inside, then. Come on…”

“No… no, stay. Please, stay…”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No! No… please, Andy. Just another minute…”

“If you throw up on me, I will get my revenge.”

“Turning me into a vampire?”

“I’ll haunt you after I’m turned into a ghost.”

“Stalk me, you mean.”

“Haven’t you noticed how much of a creep I am already?”

You sniffed once more, and he tried to look at your face to see if you were crying again, but you were hidden in his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Andy… I’m so sorry about everything,” you whispered against his heart, but he caught your words loud and clear, despite the music coming from the party.

“Let’s not talk about this now,” he whispered back, bending to press his lips to the side of your head. “We should go back. Your plus-one must be looking for you.”

“A plus-one? You have a plus-one?”

“Me? No… no, I came alone. I’m talking about you.”

“You didn’t see that I was alone?”

Your words were slurred with alcohol, but they sounded genuine, vulnerable too.

“Erm… no… I… I like… tried to avoid you all day, in case you haven’t noticed. That includes not looking in your direction.”

You let got of his vest completely. He expected you to move away, but you didn’t. It felt like you had gone limp in his arms.

“You can’t even look at me anymore…”

You started crying again, and Andrew cursed at his clumsy words.

“No, I mean… you… We’ve agreed to stay out of each other’s way, and that’s what I’ve tried to do.”

“I didn’t come with anyone.”

“Okay.”

“I fucked up… I fucked up, Andy, I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, look… let’s just…”

He looked up at the night sky, in an attempt to hold back his tears. His throat had tightened, he let out a long exhale, trying to focus on the shape of the incomplete moon, the stars that shone brightly, the happy song that was being played, he couldn’t remember the name of it. Anything to try and not crumble in your arms there and then. He had to keep it together.

“Let’s… let’s not talk about this now, okay?” his voice was soft, mainly because emotions were making it hard for him to speak. “We’ve already spoken about what happened. We just… like… We just need to move on now, yeah?”

But you shook your head.

“I fucked up. I fucked up because I was terrified. I was so fucking scared of letting myself have feelings for you… I was so scared of being too lonely when you’re away, of not being able to cope with your absence, with how much I fucking miss you every time you leave. And I was scared you could meet someone better, someone who could follow your lifestyle in a way I couldn’t and then you would have dumped me and…”

You heaved an exhausted sigh, while Andrew was remaining motionless, trying to process what you were saying.

“I should have never thought about this arrangement. I should have never accepted that stupid date. I should have never pushed you away.”

You spoke again after a short silence. Your next phrase knocked out all the air from his lungs.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you… God, I’m so sorry, Andy…”

He couldn’t answer to that. He couldn’t react to it either. He couldn’t process what your words meant…

Besides you were drunk… very drunk… this… this was a mistake…

“Let’s get you inside, Y/N, okay? Come on, now.”

At long last, you let him help you to your feet, and with his help you were able to walk back to the tent. Some members of Sam’s and Daphne’s families were staying at the mansion for the night, and there were still a few empty rooms available. Andrew got a key, and safely helped you to a bed. He took off your shoes, made you lie down, tucked you in. The time it took him to come back with a glass of water to put on your bedside table, you were fast asleep.

He took a moment to watch you like this, hair a mess of locks stranded on the pillow, looking peaceful, even if your crying was still visible. He gently brushed your cheek, dropped a gentle kiss to your forehead, and then he was gone.

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 5

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 5 - What Now?

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 4.2k

AO3

Chapter 4

You didn’t go to Quantico today. Not that anyone would notice your absence besides Prentiss and that was fine by you. Let her stew while you figure out what you want. A difficult task since you had no idea what that was without someone telling you what to do. You rarely had the lead on your mission purpose. You could tell Brian what happened to gain some professional advice but decided it is best to keep it to yourself. Think things through for a bit before reaching out. And you were glad that the section chief didn’t contact you.

Not that you were expecting it. Prentiss wasn’t one to make amends so quickly, especially when she felt she was in the right. You respected her motivations for team preservation, but the woman went about it completely wrong.

You were not kind, either. But she provoked you, wouldn’t budge, and too fucking proud to admit she was wrong. You didn’t regret anything you said to her and probably continue being a petulant ass if she contacted you.

So here you were at the Botanical Gardens, sipping coffee from a to go cup you bought at the café, and casually stroll around the exhibits. The fragrance that you greedily inhaled was intoxicatingly calming. There was barely a sound, too, since it was a weekday and you were happy to learn from the cashier that there were no school trips planned for today. For a short time, you can pretend to have the place to yourself as you round the long rectangular pool in one of the exhibits far from the entrance.

Natural light filtered through glass ceiling, illuminating large trees hugged by well-manicured flowers. Wooden benches were tucked between large potted plants, the same ones that were placed around the pool, though on opposite ends were long planters with bright pink flowers that easily caught your eye.

You pause roughly a foot away from the pool and close your eyes, listening to the gentle laps of water hitting the edges. You could almost forget about yesterday’s argument. Eyes still close, you bring the lip of the cup to your mouth and take a healthy swallow while slipping a hand into your jean pocket …

… and felt your phone buzz.

You enjoy pretending nothing was wrong for a moment longer before opening your eyes and pulling the phone free from your back pocket. Should you take bets as to who was messaging you?

To your surprise, it was Rebecca. Did she know what happened?

You take another sip and unlock your phone to read the message,

Wilson sent 1043: Hey! Drinks this weekend?

So, she didn’t know.

Interesting.

A pang of guilt made your stomach ache thinking how the falling out with Prentiss would affect her if you didn’t go back to working with the BAU. The AG went to bat for the two of you when she didn’t have to.

Bailey would love it if you backed out and could resume causing trouble for the team. You couldn’t have that, but you equally couldn’t have Prentiss treating you like shit. Why you didn’t want to make any hasty decisions until you distance yourself further from the time of the fight and figure out what you wanted.

Whitlock sent 1055: Sure. Let me know when and where. Tara going to be there too?

Wilson sent 1057: Yep. We want to hear how things are going.

You sigh and look up at the large leaves hanging over your head.

Whitlock sent 1100: Sounds like a plan

No need to drop any major bombshells until you know what was going on.

Wilson sent 1101: 😊 Great!

And you have a couple of days to figure it out.

Today should have been a good day for the BAU. Tyler Green was apprehended before he could use the kill kit, but it was a clusterfuck of a joint task force with Domestic Terrorism. The BAU had gone after Green and Rossi had refused to call JJ and Luke back when ordered, which pissed Bailey off. But the deputy director had a sniper in place that he failed to mention to them. So, they were all in the wrong and kept secrets from one another since the two divisions didn’t trust either side. Everything settled into place with no casualties, but the fallout was intense.

Bailey’s press conference announced to Sicarius that they were on to him and right after it was over, fired Rossi as unit chief. He then ordered Prentiss to install a new team leader that would report directly to him. So of course, she said fuck that and would work two jobs. He wouldn’t approve of anyone currently on the team, and she wouldn’t approve of anyone else since Bailey would immediately try and manipulate the new member against them.

Emily would always protect her team.

Then a few hours ago, the case grew interesting as the team deduced that Green was Garcia’s informant. He never had any intention of setting off the bomb, already neutralizing the kill kit. The disgraced army veteran was attempting to lure Sicarius out by infiltrating his network so he could kill him for murdering his sister.

One saving grace for Emily is that everyone was on high alert today that no one questioned where you were. She didn’t offer any insight, either. Not that she had any.

You didn’t show up for work and she received no contact from you, nor anything from Langley. Not like she was going to poke that hornet’s nest. Until the issue of you and the contract came up, Emily had real work to do.

Which was a ton of it. More files and paperwork had exponentially piled up on her desk in a matter of hours. The long hours at work were about to double.

“Hey, Emily.”

She looks up with a tired smile towards Rossi as he approaches her desk. “Dave.”

“What a day, huh?” He sits down, folding his hands across his stomach.

Emily partly snorts as she leans back in her chair. “That’s being kind.”

His lips slightly turn upwards to acknowledge the severity of the unspoken truth of the BAU leadership shake up, but he was here for another reason. “You know, I was hoping to speak to Whitlock today.”

“Oh?” she gave away nothing but polite curiosity as to why Dave was interested in you.

“Wanted to finish our conversation from yesterday, but she never came in.” He studies Emily intently.

She doesn’t look away and says nothing to confirm or deny what he said.

“Her desk is clean,” he supplies after motioning over his shoulder towards the couch. “No Diet Coke bottles.”

Emily wouldn’t have guessed your soda addiction would end up being the clue to your absence.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” he presses.

She licks her lips, tapping pen in hand lightly on the desk as she struggles on how to begin.

Rossi chuckles at seeing her inwardly battle on what to say. “Wow. That bad?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “It was.”

“What was the argument about?”

Her face scrunches up as she takes a deep breath before explaining. “Not trusting her.”

His brows raise with admonishment.

“Oh, don’t do that. I have every right not to,” she argues firmly.

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that there’s absolutely nothing substantial on record about her.” She shakes her head with contempt. “You know she had legal trouble?” Rossi shakes his head that he didn’t. “That’s how she knows Wilson. Helped her out of it.”

He fans his hands out unconvinced. “And?”

“She admitted her file’s sealed and she did nothing wrong. That she made the right call in the field.”

“Every member of the BAU has been in trouble at some point or another in similar circumstances. Legal and otherwise,” he says with the tone of a wise, patient, parent. “And we’re not aware of any significant reprimand, otherwise why retain a high rank in the CIA.”

“Yes, but I know all of you. I don’t know her.”

“Hotch didn’t know you when you joined. Yet here you are.” He gestures around Hotch’s former office. “Section Chief.”

She remains unconvinced, face hardened with mistrust.

“Come on, Emily. Even you were given the opportunity to prove yourself. Why can’t you afford the same arm length courtesy?”

That is the question, isn’t it? Why doesn’t she like you besides the overall mistrust. Again, there were a lot of similarities to your careers that she should have some sympathy towards you and your situation. But it’s difficult to shake your reasoning for helping Wilson with this immense favor of the BAU budget resolution.

“It’s the stipend. Or the amount of the stipend that unburied us,” she admits carefully.

“Ah.” He smiles. “Too good to be true?”

“Yes,” she nods. “And why does she even has that much to use? Whatever happened was big and I don’t want that drama effecting the BAU.”

“Wow. Emily, with all due respect, that’s very hypocritical of you after what happened wi-“

“Don’t you dare.” She swivels the chair to face him fully. “Don’t you dare compare what happened with Doyle with her.”

“Why? Because you have nothing to compare the drama with?” He scoffs as she nods in affirmation. “Why does it matter?”

“Because Bailey’s still breathing down my neck trying to disband the unit and is clearly finding new creative ways to do it since the budget is no longer an issue.” She rests her head against the high back chair, staring at the ceiling.

Dave stiffens in the chair. “Emily, what exactly happened with you and Whitlock?”

She pensively pulls her lips together as she closes her eyes. “I may have admitted … that I only cared about her because of the money.”

Rossi could not help the surprise look on his face. “Emily, no …”

She sighs and opens her eyes, a hint of regret etching into her words. “I was angry after she joked about being the BAU sugar mama. Everything after that went to shit.”

He was starting to get tired of Emily speaking around what actually happened between the two of you. “What exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I have no idea if Whitlock is still on board.” She raises her hand futilely at her office door. “She left, probably for good. Which means our contract with her is null and void.”

“And the money we were hoping for …”

“… doesn’t come,” she finishes soberly.

“And you didn’t think to contact her to see where she stands in all of this?”

“Oh, it did cross my mind,” she answers ruefully. “I just haven’t. And to be fair, the shit we dealt with today made it a low priority.”

Rossi wasn’t sure how being in exorbitant debt would be a low priority if the expectant help wasn’t coming. “And now?”

She finally shifts her gaze towards Rossi, lost. “I don’t know.”

“Sure, you do,” he chides as he stands up. “You just need to apologize.”

You were glad that the sports bar, Buddy’s, was still around to enjoy the football preseason despite the Bears not playing tonight. You were a true fan of your hometown team. Thick and thin, you bitched and cheered after every play during a Bears game, loyally critical. Perhaps you should be a tad loyal to the Commanders since you lived in the D.C. area when off mission, but you honestly didn’t care. You were happy to enjoy any game that was playing on the screens over the bar counter.

Right now, the Giants were playing the Patriots in a close game as you sat at the bar nursing a Stella on draft with a bowl of gumbo. Brian still didn’t know of your indecision, though you did end up feeling a twinge of guilt after watching the shitshow of a press conference Bailey held earlier today.

He was such a fucking tool, broadcasting that the FBI was on to Sicarius and taking full credit of capturing the unsub in Allaband Park. There was no way that the operation was a success without the BAU there and even you knew that Prentiss was just in the background to show that everyone was playing nice.

You briefly wonder if you could have helped the team, or more accurately, would have been allowed to help the team today if her majesty could get over her mistrust of you.

At least Brian had texted to check on you after hearing of Green’s capture.

Dad sent 1534: You ok?

Whitlock sent 1603: Yeah I’m good

Dad sent 1632: Glad to hear it.

You made sure to allow enough reasonable time before responding to make it look like you were busy after the capture, and to answer truthfully without being specific.

“Oh, come on!” You gesture at the screen when a defensive lineman wasn’t covered and sacked the Giants quarterback.

You didn’t really care who wins but you would always call out stupid plays, and that was one major fuck up. As the Giants took a time out, you went back to your gumbo and felt the counter vibrate twice, indicating a message was received. You had missed who it was from and go to unlock the screen …

… and drop your spoon in the bowl in shock.

Overlord sent 1932: I’d like to meet up and discuss last night.

Never did it cross your mind to think that you’d get a text from Emily fucking Prentiss.

You’re motionless as you stare at the screen, hands resting on either side of your meal and the phone as you consider the offer. Let alone that there was an offer so soon. You pinch your brows before you pick up the phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

You write out several replies to get the smartass comments out of your system.

Fuck off

New phone, who dis?

Make sure when you come the pole’s dislodged from your ass

Now you wanna talk?

Oh I’m so relieved that the queen wishes to make time for her lowly servant

Are you drunk?

Each one was deleted, and Emily was probably wondering why it was taking so long for you to respond if she saw you were constantly typing a reply.

And what was going to be your real one?

You swallow down several gulps of beer, decision made.

Whitlock sent 1946: Sure. Come to Buddy’s. Know where it is?

You were tired of Prentiss having the home field advantage and if she really was earnest in wanting to speak, she would come to you.

Overlord sent 1949: I do not

Must not be her scene and thinking back to her office, there was no sports stuff displayed there, unlike the glimpses of Cubs gear in Rossi’s office when you walked by.

Whitlock sent 1950: I sent you the location

Overlord sent 1952: Got it. See you in about an hour

You fought the urge to send, ‘It’s a date!’, and simply set your phone aside. You were proud of yourself for behaving and flag the bartender over, immediately handing her your Platinum American Express card. “Start a tab, will ya?”

The blonde bartender that had been working your side of the bar counter took it with a smile. It accentuated her stud piercing above her lip. “Sure thing, sweetie.”

“Oh! And do me a favor?” Your eyes were alight with mischief that made the woman pause. “When you see a grumpy looking woman dressed like a Fed walk in, bring her a glass of your best red.”

It took Emily ten minutes to find a parking space, not expecting a sports bar to be this busy on a Thursday night. At least the five minute walk was pleasant with the light breeze and night clear enough of cloud cover to enjoy the bright crescent moon hovering in the sky. It was off center, reminding her of the Chesire Cat’s grin. Which then reminds her of you and your antics.

Ugh. Please don’t be an ass tonight.

As she enters, she immediately spots you, recognizing the suede jacket of yours hanging over the back of the bar stool to your left. She guesses it is to save a spot for her. As she approaches, she takes in your relaxed appearance, causally watching the game and sipping at the glass of beer you cradle with a hand on the counter. You had your hair pulled back in a loose braid that rested against a black tee and wore jeans that were fraying at the end that covered the top of brown work boots.

Before she even had a chance to greet you, a glass of red wine appears on the counter next to you. She catches the bartender and you sharing a knowing look before she disappears to take care of someone else.

“Hey, Prentiss.” You turn to remove your jacket and place it back where it belongs behind you.

Emily shrugs her long coat off and hangs it over the back of the chair. You couldn’t help but notice how out of place she looks. It wasn’t the clothes, no. There were a lot of suits that end up relaxing at a sports bar - throwing back some beer and cocktails as they yell at the screens in joy or contempt. It was why the beer and cocktails menu were long and the wine list short. And it was why Prentiss got a basic cabernet sauvignon while you got many drafts on tap to choose much to your delight.

She sits beside you and gestures to the drink. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” Your face scrunches together in repentance. “Consider it an apology for basically calling you a functional alcoholic.”

You take a sip of your beer while watching highlights from the game. The Giants had won by a field goal.

Prentiss nods as she takes a sip from her glass. She makes a light face of approval at the taste of the wine. “Ironic offering this to the maybe functional alcoholic.”

“Touche.”

You both grow silent, Prentiss trying to recover from the peace offering she was drinking and the fact you apologized first. It was commendable to be the bigger person when Emily was in the wrong.

“Do you normally come to places like this?” she asks carefully, seeing where you two stand right now in this conversation.

“Nah. Just didn’t want to be at the apartment doing the same thing.” And you didn’t need to cook, which was a bonus.

“You like,” she gestures to the screen and awkwardly asks, “football?”

You found it cute she was trying.

“I’m not a die hard fanatic, but I enjoy the game a lot.” You finally turn to look at her. “I take it you’re not a fan.”

She shakes her head no and meets your gaze. “I am not.”

“Of all sports, right?”

“That would be right.”

You both stare at one another for a few moments before you shift in your chair to lean against the counter, resting your elbow on top to prop up your head. “If it helps to shake off some of my mystique, I’m a Bears fan. You probably don’t understand how sad that it is, but it is. My team sucks but I’ll always root for them.”

That jibe made Emily relax, even making the curves of her mouth turn upwards just enough to realize what you were getting at. “So, you’re saying you’re loyal?”

You nod. “I am. To those who treat me right.”

Emily takes a long sip of her wine to marinate on the accusation she deserves. You wait her out, watching Emily pay attention to commentary and statistics she doesn’t give a shit about on the screens across from you.

“I shouldn’t have referred to you as a means to an end.” Her hands rest on the base of the wine glass, steadying the drink as much as her own words. “It’s difficult for me to …”

You watch as she chews over what to say.

“… for me to trust you.”

You inwardly sigh and drop the arm holding your head up. Your body went on the defense, as did your tone. “Yes, we’ve been through this …”

“It’s not without reason,” she supplies quickly, but not rudely, as she cuts you off.

“I agree. But you dehumanized me,” you reply bitterly. “I was basically your money whore.”

“I didn’t …” But Emily pauses, realizing the joke you made was not your usual smartass retort, but a self-deprecating comment of how hurt you were.

She remembers you saying that you hide your trauma with humor, and what you just said admitted to a painful past of being underappreciated or undeserving.

“Stop profiling me, Prentiss,” you warn, eyes pleading.

She backs down and nods. “I’m sorry. It’s defensive most of the time in situations like this.”

“Okay, that I can understand. Social shit isn’t my forte either. Especially through all the bullshit we’ve been through.” You hold up your hands on the immediate defense as Prentiss starts to look suspicious. “And I mean generally. I’m not talking about any specifics. But people like us, with the shit we’ve done and lived through, have intense self defense mechanisms and shitty coping skills that we see everything’s a threat until we get to understand one another.”

“Ah,” she slowly nods. “Yes. That’s very true.” Then she narrows her eyes at you. “Why couldn’t you be this reasonable last night?”

“Why did you have to be a bitch?” you counter.

“Fair point,” she chuckles and looks aggrieve. “I was painfully informed I was as such earlier today.”

“Hence the text?”

“Mhm.”

“Well … good.” You down more of your drink as Prentiss does with hers, both avoiding the unspoken question - were you staying with the BAU?

Though as you watch the section chief, you see a shift in her facial features. A harden look as she comes to a decision inside her head.

“How about we start over.”

“Like, how?” you found this perplexing.

“Like this.” She turns on the stool and holds a hand out before you. “Hi, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding yesterday. I’m Section Chief Emily Prentiss.”

Your eyes go wide and look down at the olive branch. You could hear Brian’s voice reminding you that you never quit on anyone and why you shouldn’t start now.

So, you take Emily’s hand and squeeze it. “Special Agent Y/N Whitlock. Nice to meet ya.”

She lightly smiles before releasing your hand, but she starts to dread the roguish look you're directing towards her. “What?” she questions slowly, draping her arm over the back of the bar stool.

“Nothing bad, I promise.” Your smile disarms her as you notice she was genuinely concerned this would degrade into another misunderstanding. “I know you don’t know me, and I can’t say much, but to start this partnership off better, how about you get to ask me one question, and I promise to answer it to the best of my ability without joking around.”

Her lower lip protrudes with consideration. “All right.” She takes a hefty swallow of wine and sets it down to look you directly in the eyes. “How did you join the CIA?”

“Fuck,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I can’t say.”

You watch as the tiny bit of the wall Emily had taken down starts to build right back up. The shift in her brown eyes makes you feel miserable. “Wait!” you urge. “Please. I really can’t say, and that’s the truth. But I can offer something related to it.”

Emily becomes intrigued. “Go on.”

“Brian Korogoth recruited me.”

“Brian … Korogoth?” she repeats back for clarification.

“Yes.”

“The current Director of the CIA?” she stabs the counter with her index finger for emphasis.

“Yep.”

“That Brian Korogoth?” Emily needs to ask it again to make sure she was hearing this right.

“To be fair, he wasn’t that when I met him, but … yes.”

It took a few minutes for Emily to digest this new information. She had briefly worked with Korogoth when she was in JTF-12 before the Doyle case. He was an intelligent and calculating man. A natural leader. He liaised between JTF-12 and Interpol to track down members of the Armed Islamic Group* in Great Britain when a string of car bombings had occurred.

“Wow. Okay then.” She blinks a few times in realization and feels a newfound respect for the woman before her.

“I should have probably led with that when we first met to save us from all the bullshit between us, huh?” you say, as if reading her thoughts.

She laughs, an honest laugh, that echoes quite lovely over the din of patrons. “Probably, yes.”

You hold up your glass and offer Prentiss a bright smile. “To starting over?”

Emily didn’t hesitate in reaching for her wine glass to clink it against your drink. “To starting over.”

*Also known as the GIA

Chapter 6

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Taglist:

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven

[luvsymai]

FAKE BOYFRIEND ; Shoto Todoroki

Chapter 5. SEE YOU ON SATURDAY!

Genre: Romance, fluff

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___________________________________

“So… see you on Saturday, then?” Todoroki asked you, scratching the back of his head.

After he had asked you about going on a date, which he had referred to as ‘day’, you had corrected him shortly afterwards, you two had an agreement to go out on Saturday this week.

“Yep! But… are you not going back to the dorms with me..?” You asked.

“No. I’m visiting the hospital today.” He replied.

“Ah, okay…” You didn’t ask for any more explanation from him, as you considered the fact that it might be too personal to ask him, and you two aren’t that close to be asking about personal matters.

“Do you want me to accompany you to the dorms?” He suddenly asked, which took you back.

“N-No! You don’t have to!” You disagreed, waving your hands profusely as you rejected his offer. He nodded slowly at your answer.

“Well, I’ll have to go now, Todoroki. Stay safe on your way to the hospital!” You waved at him before turning around to go back to the dorms.

Before you could even walk another step, someone grabbed your wrist, which made you stop in your tracks as you looked at the person confusedly.

“What’s wrong, Todoroki?” You asked, confusion written all over your face.

He looked hesitant, as he replied to you.

“Can I get your number…?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at what he said, but before you could open your mouth to reply, he spoke first.

“Ah, it’s so i can contact you.. I don’t have you in my contacts yet,” He explained, which made you let out a small “oh” as you felt slightly disappointed.

You found it weird. He can just go knock at your room, or you could go to his room. But then again, it was also reasonable at the same time.

You’ll need his number too, anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” You exchanged numbers, with him typing out his number on your phone while you typed yours. You saved your contact name on his phone as (Last name), with him doing the same.

“Okay, goodbye.” He gave you back your phone, and you gave his back.

“Bye!” You waved at him with a smile. You felt your smile grow as you saw him waving back to you.

“Bye.”

Once you reached the dorms, you went to your room. It was already six in the evening, so you decided to have dinner, and do your skincare after taking a bath.

While you were doing your skincare, your phone had a notification, which you glanced over.

It was a notification from Todoroki.

Todoroki

Where do you want to go on Saturday?

Your eyes widened and you panicked as you quickly washed your slippery hands, drying your hands with your robe afterwards. You completely forgot that you agreed to on Saturday with him a few hours ago, so you were surprised when he texted you. You opened your phone and replied to him.

You

What about you?? Where do you wanna g o

go*

You cringed at the text you sent him. It sounded way too casual for your liking, but you couldn’t do anything about it as your screen was slippery because of your half-wet hands. You saw the chat bubbles, indicating that he was typing a message.

You quickly exited the iMessage app and closed your phone, placing it on the counter as you slapped your cheeks.

When you heard the little ding! notification, you quickly glanced at the reply out of nervousness.

Todoroki

I don’t mind, anywhere you want to go.

You felt your cheeks heat up reading his reply. You opened your phone and typed a message to him.

You

do you want to go on uh

a picnic perhaps??

Todoroki

Picnic perhaps? I’ve never heard of that place before.

You weren’t sure if he was way too innocent for his own good, or if it’s just because you didn’t put a comma after picnic.

It’s probably the latter.

You

ah, i mean do you want to go on a picnic, perhaps?

sorry lol i made you confused.

Todoroki

Oh, I was joking.

I understood you the first time, I apologise.

But yeah, we can go on a picnic.

You chuckled. He sounded formal even when texting.

You

okay! ^__^

Todoroki

^__^ ?

You

It’s an emoji!

cute, right?

Todoroki

I guess so?

You felt awkward at his reply, biting your lip as you thought of a reply to him.

You

also, about the picnic, i’ll just prepare the food :D

we can go during lunch time. is that okay with you?

Todoroki

Yeah, sure

You

i’ll go to your room at exactly 11:30 am

Todoroki

You don’t have to, I’ll just go to your room instead.

You can text me when you’re done.

You

well, okay!

so it’s an agreement then?

Todoroki

It’s an agreement. ^__^

You felt yourself laugh at his text, quite surprised at the emoji he used.

He’s cute, alright.

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[3-2-whump]

The Morgue

<prev

Dear Readers,

Yep. This is it. Eternal's last chapter (at least for now). Thank you for sticking around for so long, I appreciated each and every one of you for reading this story and interacting with it! And thank you beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for reading draft after freaking draft of this story for months now; I look forward to collaborating with you in the future.

The ending is kind of open ended, and I acknowledge this may frustrate some people, but I promise I'm not gonna pull a Netflix and drop this series on a cliffhanger (looks passive-aggressively at Netflix). Whatever happens next is for tomorrow; today, without further ado, here is the conclusion to Eternal!

TW/CW: death of a major character, aftermath of death of a major character, gore /graphic descriptions of a corpse, blood, emotional angst (I think?), nonconsensual nudity, slave whump /transfer of ownership, defiant whumpee, creepy whumper

Khaled was more than a little concerned when he woke up the next morning and his master’s bedroom was still empty. He was downright worried that he had not heard even a word from him by midday. This is so unlike him, Khaled thought as he checked the spare phone for any text messages he might’ve missed in the night. No new messages. Where is he?

He went to his room and retrieved his hidden cellphone from the place he had hidden it. There was one new message from Julio, but Khaled quickly swiped past it to text the one other contact he had on this illicit device.

To: Nic-Nac Have you seen the Boss today? He didn’t come home last night.

The subtle click of the door unlocking made his heart jump into his throat. Khaled quickly hid the phone away, bolted into the living room, chucked off the blanket, and assumed a perfect kneeling positon by the entrance, back straight, chest out, palms down on thighs, just as he’d been trained. His heart sank as the door opened and a man who was definitely not his master entered the apartment.

“Throw a coat on and-” Underboss Luca dropped his gaze down at Khaled once he realized he was not at eye-level. “Oh, right,” he groaned, punctuating his comment with a dismissive eye roll. “Should’ve known you’d be on your knees.” Khaled’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Get up and put some clothes on, we need to go to the morgue and identify a body!”

The last part of that command jolted Khaled out of his conditioning as abruptly as a kick in the teeth. “Wait, what?!” he asked, straightening up from his kneeling position.

“Just get dressed and come with me!” Luca said. He fumbled around his pockets until he found a small key. “You know where the safe is; get your clothes, and let’s go,” he instructed, tossing it to Khaled.

The young man caught it and dashed to the safe in the master bedroom, unlocking it and sprinting with the pile of clothes in his arms to change in his own bedroom. As he quickly dressed, he had an unshakeable feeling of dread. Thomas not coming home at all last night, no communication this morning, Luca coming over, and now this trip to the morgue –it was all adding up. If his master was truly dead, then he had no idea if or when he would be back at the apartment.

Khaled saw the designated hiding space for his cash jar out of the corner of his eye. He yanked it out and emptied it onto the bed, quickly folding and stuffing the dollar bills into every pocket, fold, and crevice of his outfit he could manage. Lastly, he grabbed his forbidden cellphone from its hiding place and jammed it into his pants pocket as he sprinted out to meet his foreboding feeling head-on.

Luca filled him in on the details as they drove to the morgue. A little after six in the morning, a bloodied and mangled body had been found hanging upside down from a crane at the dockyard. The ID in the dead man’s coat pocket had identified him as Thomas J Costa, but his face was barely recognizable beneath the blood and gore. The forensic pathologist would need a positive ID on the dead man’s corpse before they could tell the coroner to issue the death certificate for Don Costa, hence the need for Luca and Khaled to come down to the morgue.

“You know, if it is Tommy-boy on that slab, all of his assets will immediately be transferred to my control,” Luca reminded him, snaking an arm around the young man in a feigned gesture of comfort as they walked to the entrance of the morgue. “All of them,” he whispered. Khaled bristled under the other man’s touch as Luca moved his hand downwards. He did not miss the hidden meaning of those words. He jumped a little as Luca experimentally groped his ass on the way through the entrance.

The forensic pathologist met the men, their androgynous face set into a grim expression. “Next of kin for Mr. Thomas J Costa?” they asked. Both men nodded. The pathologist waved at them to follow them. “I gotta warn you though, he’s not a pretty picture. I cleaned him up as best I could, but just be prepared.”

No forewarning could’ve prepared Khaled for what he saw when the sheet was lifted from the corpse on that autopsy table. He recognized the cold gray eyes that now stared unseeingly up at him, the telltale scar at the man’s left temple, and what remained of the skull and snake tattoo on the man’s left pec, but that was about it. The rest of his master’s body looked as if wild animals had gotten to it. His usual dirty-blond hair was stained a coppery red, matted in places with clotted blood. There were cuts, bruises, and even burns scattered around his face, disfiguring it into something near unrecognizable. A long, jagged cut ran from his jugular down to his sternum, deep crimson with coagulated blood that had long since stopped bubbling from its schism. Deep gashes of a knife punctured his upper body and torso. His privates were…gone… and his legs from upper thighs to ankles were littered in cuts and bruises. The soles of his feet looked as if they had been burned away. Merely looking at his feet made Khaled feel faint, so he let his eyes travel back to Thomas’ face. The man’s dull gray eyes stared up at him.

“Well, is this him?”

“Yes,” Luca answered solemnly. He quickly swiped a hand over his eyes and took a breath to compose himself before turning to Khaled.

No matter how much he wanted to, he could not tear his gaze from the man’s dead eyes. He gave a small nod, at a complete loss for words otherwise. The pathologist merely answered a quiet “okay” before draping the sheet back onto Don Costa’s mutilated body, shielding Khaled from those steel gray eyes forever.

It’s finally happened, he thought. Master is dead… Instead of hope, or sorrow, or anger, or even a sick sense of satisfaction from witnessing this karmic justice, Khaled searched within himself and found nothing. He felt nothing, and then he questioned what kind of person he was, to feel nothing.

“Khaled, hey, Khaled…” a faint voice called out to him through the fog of his mind. Khaled stayed rooted to the spot, unable to move as he stared down at the veiled corpse.

“Khaled, sweetie, it’s time to go.”

He’s dead now, which means…which means what? The feeling of Luca roughly pulling him away from the autopsy table and dragging him back the way they came answered his own question for him. All the while, Khaled took shelter in his thoughts, not even fighting back as he tried to process what he just saw and what it meant for him. The man who had fed me, clothed me, given me everything is dead, and now, what am I?

“Well, it looks like you’re mine now,” Luca announced, pulling on his leather gloves as they exited the morgue and stepped into the parking lot.

That snapped Khaled out of his mind quick. The man who had once openly said he would’ve taken him while he was still a minor flashed him a small, sad smile. “Of all the ways I could’ve gotten you, this is the last one I wanted,” he admitted. He raised a gloved hand to Khaled’s face, gently caressing his cheek with leather-clad fingers. “But maybe, together, we can help each other process our loss.”

No. Khaled shook his head. Luca’s soft caresses quickly hardened into a crushing grip on his face. He drew him in closer until their faces were mere inches apart. “You’re mine now, Khaled,” he growled, glaring into the young man’s eyes. “I never approved of the erratic, unpredictable way Tommy treated you, and I promised myself that when it was my turn, I would be better.” Khaled’s hands scratched at Luca’s arm, which only served to tighten the hand around his jaw. “But not if you’re going to fight me the entire time!” He drew Khaled in closer, too close for comfort, as he maintained that crushing grip on his face. “So, what’s it gonna be? You gonna be a good boy for Master, or are you gonna make me hurt you?”

Letting go of Khaled’s face to allow him to answer was the greatest mistake Luca would make. With a fierce desperation to die rather than be owned by someone far worse than Thomas, Khaled drew his head back and collided their skulls with a crushing force. Both men withdrew from each other, each groaning in pain as they held their heads, but Khaled recovered from the head-butt first, and used the ten-second head start to make a run for it out the parking lot.

“You bitch! Get back here, you stupid little slut!” and various threats of bodily harm were shouted at him as he ran. He kept running, even when he rounded the corner and an exposed piece of chain-link fence grazed his thigh, nipping the skin enough to draw blood. He kept running, even when he wasn’t sure which streets he was running down as he single-mindedly sprinted ahead, most definitely lost. He kept running, even as the tears blurred his vision and the cold air stung his throat and lungs, and every time he tried to blink back his tears all he saw were those cold, dead eyes staring up lifelessly back at him. He kept running.

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[miseta]

Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players? Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks

This chapter is quite long ! Hope you guys still like to read it as much as I loved writing it, and I had so much fun doing photoshop visuals I did several for this one

TW: may content explicit sex, +18

6K words

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

The rain was pouring down when we landed in Paris, drops splashing hard against the windscreen of the bus, driving at an unbelievably low speed. I was sitting beside Ana at the front row, slowly drowsing, swung by the steady movements of the vehicle. My mind wandered, taking me back with Misa and Hayley waving happily to me again at the start and end of trainings. I was so glad to have them back. My vibrating phone took me out of the memory. I pulled it out of my pocket and broke a smile when I saw Angela had texted me. 

A: Hey Nicky! How are you it’s been years !

N: Hey Angela! Yeah so long sorry I didn’t call. Work has been mad but I’m good and you ?

A: I’m fine! What did I miss ? Can we call ?

N: Sorry I’m on the bus in Paris right now can’t call you. I do have a lot to tell you!

A: Tell meeee Wait I know It’s Misa???

N: Well spot-on lol

A: Tell me everything!!

N: Well we kissed… more than once and that’s it for now.

A: Oh that’s all …?! What are you waiting!! But you’re in Paris with the team ?

N: Yes

A: And you’ll be in the same hotel ?

N: Yep

A: And you’ll have a room for yourself ? 

N: Yes……..

A: This is looking good or bad it depends

N: Stop it Angela! Right now Misa is focusing on her match and won’t let anything happened. 

A: How many nights are you staying ?

N: 3 but only one after the game

A: Leaves 1 night still…

N: Girl!!! you’re not supposed to encouraged me !! The close still exists…….

A: Right yeah fuck the close! She’s a friend with benefits no big deal ! Just keep it secret... anyway you and I both know it's bound to happen

N: Pfff I can’t bye Angela

A: I’ll call you when you’ll be back in Madrid ! Can’t wait to know the all Paris story, especially the end !

I rolled my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket, a part of my body itching now my brain was imagining the things that could occurred in two days. I shook the thought, peering at the blurry shapes of the fancy buildings of Paris through the heavy rain.

***

We arrived at the hotel at the end of the afternoon, everybody back on the bus at once for a late practice session. Misa didn’t break her self-promise to work hard and we didn’t interacted much during the first hours in the French capital. We quickly ate and went to bed after training. Everybody was very concentrate. 

Next day, the players trained all morning in the stadium of the Parc des Princes where the match would take place. However, the club permitted a free period on the afternoon and Naomie, who was born in Paris, organized an improvised visit of Montmartre with some of us. 

I was the only non-footballer member of the tourist groupe. Hayley had forced Misa to join. She originally wanted to study in her room, watching videos of goalkeepers playing as a last minute homework, but had had to let go under the insistence of her friend for well deserved break. 

Even if most of us had been to Paris before, we were charmed by the tortuous and hilly streets near the Basilica. I was dragging myself behind the sporty women,  getting distanced more and more, as I climbed laboriously the endless stairs to the Sacré Coeur. Misa glanced behind her, saw me, nudge Hayley and the two of them lowered her pace to let me catch up. 

"¿ Qué pasa Nicky ? Tired after the morning training ? It was a hard one I must admit…" She teased as I leveled with them. 

"I didn’t signed for this ! Don’t have your stamina !" I panted. 

"Come on let’s go that way ! We’ll do a detour but maybe that mean less stairs" Hayley indicated a pedestrian curvy path on the left. 

We chatted happily on the way. It was so nice to hang together again. We shortly arrived to the front but below, a huge amount of stairs still separated us from the basilica. I snorted. 

"Come on Nicky !" Hayley pushed me forward but I eyed an empty bench aside the path. 

"I just need a break !" I said heading to sit down. As I passed in front of her, Misa hold me back, grabbing my arm. "We leave you on that bench and we’ll see you at the Sacré Coeur in two hours !" she joked. 

"Carry me then !" I said. I felt free in Paris, far away from the Ciudad Real Madrid, it was making me flirty and I played at being dramatically on the edge of fainting. 

Misa was already grasping my arm to pull me closer, ready to catch me. "Don’t temped me, Princesa !"

"Ok girls ! I’m still here remember ?" Hayley waved at us, amused. Misa and I parted, embarrassed. "We’ll do Nicky a favor and rest a bit." she added already sitting down on the bench. 

We joined her, silent for once, calmly enjoying the beautiful view of the roofs of Paris while tourists and locals flocked toward the Basilica. A big kind of pigeon walked to us, eager to find some food at our feet. 

"Esta paloma ha comido demasiado, French pigeon are fat !" the goalkeeper said, curious. 

I peered at the oversized bird. "I don’t think it’s a common pigeon…" 

Hayley put out her brand new camera  "I think it’s cute"  she said fondly and took a photo "It will be our souvenir of Paris". The Australian footballer jumped up and position herself in front of us but scared the bird away. "oh no I wanted a family portrait ! Anyway… say cheese !" she shouted at us. 

I shoved my arm on Misa’s shoulders, she grabbed my waist as we put on our best smiles. "You’re too cute girls" Hayley dropped. I felt my face blushing and I tried to hide it in the crook of Misa's neck. However, the embarrassment was almost pleasant as it felt so good to be allowed that little bit of freedom with Misa. Hayley knew the truth and was keeping it safely to herself.

A little breeze swept some fallen leaves on the path. I was so at peace in the foreign city I rested my head on the goalkeeper’s shoulder, smothered by the warm presence of her hand at my side. Hayley took another shoot. "You can tell me if you want a photo of you two kissing in Paris at this level…" she threw at us. We chuckled and I went back at hiding in Misa’s neck. But Hayley was just teasing and had the delicacy to turned around to photograph the city stretching in front of us, allowing the little break only for ourselves. 

I straitened up and peered at the goalkeeper. Her half-closed eyes were looking at her lap, a bashful grin making her so cute. I glanced around us to see if any of our teammates had followed us. It was clear. "I think I’d like a kiss in Paris" I said, my hand, still on her shoulder, caressed the side of her neck. Misa shyly smiled and raised her head. A worry flashed in her eyes and like me, she checked if we weren’t observed. When she was sure we wouldn’t take any risk, she leaned over and timidly kissed me. Felling she was pulling back, I hold her face, not ready to let her go, having not enough of her lips against mine, and I felt her grin through the kiss. "You can’t devour me in public like you almost did in your office" she muttered. I retreated and flash back at her. Her warm and soft gaze made my stomach flutter. I felt an urge to hold her close but didn’t dare, somehow finding it more intimate than a kiss. Instead I took her hand and got up, pulling her behind me. 

"Let’s go to that damned basilica !" 

***

The teams entered the stadium in two neat rows under the cheering crowd, the Ultras Paris tribune loudly chanting "Paris est magique !". Tension and concentration gripped the Real Madrid girls as the traditional greeting took place. Shortly, everyone was taking their place in the pitch, ready for the kick-off. Misa’s knees had been warped up entirely since her injury during the previous game but she was jumping and stretching energetically in front of her cage. 

The game started, PSG had the ball, led by Grace Geyoro quickly advancing, passing the ball to Tabitha Chawinga. The forward ran faster and faster, closing the gap between her and the penalty area in less than minute. Ivana, Rocio and Oihane surrounded her and she passed the ball back to Sandy Baltimore who send it in the feet of Marie-Antoinette Katoto. The French player dribbled past Ivana and was block by Olga but managed to keep the ball. She send it to Sakina Karchaoui, and recovered the ball behind Olga’s back, heading straight into the penalty area. 

Misa readied herself to jump, shouting restlessly at her defenders. Katoto crossed the ball, Chawinga waiting, and she controlled it, aimed and shot. The ball rolled between Rocio’s feet at full speed. Misa dived and crashed onto the grass, her outstretched arms missed the ball by centimeters and she saw it entered the cage, almost brushing the right goalpost. The crowd burst in joy as PSG scored at the 6th minute. Real Madrid were having a hard game start. The goalkeeper got up, furious at her defenders and probably more with herself. She kicked the ball back in the game, her brows furrowed, her mouth nervously chewing a gum.

First haft-time past with no further remarkable action, apart from a miss aim kick from Karchaoui at the 40th minute. The second half however was punctuated by the many attacks on both side. Unfortunately, all the attempts of Madrid were stopped by the impassable feet of the French defense. 

Madrid was falling back as fast as they could as Sakina rushed on the left side, knowing how dangerous she could be. She crossed the ball again, aiming for Grace Geyoro. The ball buried itself in the groupe of players lost in confusion. The whistle blew and the gesture of the referee was pretty clear. She mimed a square with her hands, her arm pointing the center of it to finish. The ball had found the arm of Oihane leading to a penalty in favor of the French team. 

At first sight, Misa’s face was unreadable, but I was beginning to know her well enough to decipher her extreme tension. What she dread and wanted the most was happening, a chance to prove herself when all was resting on her again. She settled on the goal line, stretching arms and legs to prepare herself. Katoto would do the shoot. The entire stadium was holding its breath. Katoto waited a few seconds. She jogged to the ball and kicked it to the left. Misa jumped on the good side and kick the ball with her fist, sending it out of the pitch. She leaped back to her feet, screaming in triumph as her teammates hugged and slapped her in congratulation.   

The match resumed. Like before the penalty, both teams worked hard at scoring without succeeding during the entire time. Finally, the whistle blew to signal the end of the encounter. It meant Madrid had lost again. We were all disappointed by the outcome but less battered than after the Clasico. We all knew we had put an honorable performance regarding our opponent. 

***

On the road back, the team was quiet for everyone was brooding the defeat. It was still early when we arrived at the hotel and groups of teammates formed in front of the building, sharing ideas to change their minds. I overheard Sofie and Kathellen taking about a club houseboat. Haley joined them at planning the evening, grabbing a passing moody Misa that surely wanted nothing more than to bury herself in her bed. 

"Don’t even think about escaping Misa Rodriguez. You’re coming with us, willing or not !"

"Estoy cansada y no quiero bailar ! Leave me, Aussie !" she moaned and struggled to set her arm free. Hayley gestured me to approach. "Nicky’s coming too ! You don’t want to miss a night out with the best girls, do you ?"

"Vamos Misa, it’s our last night in Paris !" I insisted and sized her other arm to prevent her from fleeing again. She stopped struggling but began to silently sulk.

"We going to a péniche sur la Seine" announced Kathleen with glittering eyes. Misa sent her a questioning look. "It’s a boat on la Seine, you know, the river of Paris" she mocked her.

"I know the river of Paris, thank you." Misa snapped back but I couldn’t tell if it was true. Anyway, the prospect of it didn’t seem particularly appealing to her.  

"Misa stop being so grumpy, just let go for once !" Like she would have with a child, Hayley took the goalkeeper’s chin between her fingers, and mirror her own putting expression, having Misa to finally break a smile. "Thanks Jesus, we have Misa back ! Let’s go change. We meet in one hour max at the hotel reception !" 

After hesitating over and over about what to wear, I had finally put on a knee length dark gray T shirt, a jean jacket and a pair of black derbies from where my Real Madrid socks were sticking out. I didn’t like to look too classy, even in Paris. When I arrived in the lobby forty minutes later, Misa, Hayley and Kathellen were already there, chatting casually together. Hayley was the first to notice me. "Girl you’re looking good ! Come seat with us. We’re waiting for Sofie and God knows she can take forever to get ready". 

I took a place on the sofa besides the midfielder, facing Misa who discreetly looked at me from head to toes and put a thumb up to silently show her approbation of my outfit. My voiceless lips formed the words "you too" in return. The goalkeeper was wearing simple gray pants and a sleeveless top witch nicely brand out her muscular shoulders. 

We waited for Sofie an entire hour and ordered a taxi. The danish girl had barely apologized, quickly gathering us for a selfie as we got out of the car at our destination. The surroundings were charming, large bare lawns stretching in front of the Palace of the Invalides on a side, a sumptuous bridge crossing the Seine on the other. The streetlights and granite paving stones perfected the lovely decor. 

We walked to the bridge, climbed down a few stairs and arrived on the docks where a few barges were mooring. As the cliché says, the banks was indeed giving a very romantic vibe and I suddenly wished Misa and I were alone. The tall brunette was photographing the place, finding it at her taste finally. 

A few minutes later, we entered the barge-club and came to the dance floor on the lower level. The place was bombed-out and suffocating, colorful spots of light splattering on the sea of heads. After getting some drinks, we spotted a less crowded space and formed a small dancing circle. It was good to see the footballers having fun whole-hearted, relieved of any kind of pressure at the moment. Kathellen and Sofie spend many time dancing together, pausing now and then to take selfies and to chat on their phone. Misa was getting loose as she drank more and more Pina Coladas while Hayley kept making fun of her wild dancing. As for me, I was sweating hard and feeling slightly tipsy after two and a half pint of beer. 

The partying pretty footballers were drawing attention. A few girls approached them more than once. Kathellen and Misa had the most pretenders with respectively six and five woman coming to chat or dance with them. Of course, it annoyed me beyond reason for I was forcing myself to stay distant with the goalkeeper. When the sixth girl, moreover not an ugly one, tapped Misa’s shoulder with insurance, I escaped from the crowd to cool down near the wall of the room, not bearing to witness another flirt.  

I took a long sip of my beer, wiped the sweat off my forehead, while peering at the girl chatting Misa with dark eyes.

"C’est toujours étouffant ici ! T’as bien raison de faire une pause si tu veux tenir toute la nuit !" a women just came leaning against the wall besides me. 

I glanced at her, perplexed. She was tall, black, her face bearing many piercings and wearing her hair in long small braids. I actually found her very pretty. "Sorry, I don’t speak French !" I apologized.  

She came closer to avoid shouting over the music "Oh, I couldn’t guess ! You look very Frenchy. I’m Sonia." she pointed at herself. "Nicky" I mirrored her. 

"You dance Nicky ?" she led out an inviting hand and smile to me. I glanced at the place where I had left Misa but didn’t caught sight of her. Felling still annoyed by the goalkeeper power to attract girls like moths on a lamp, I nodded, dropped my empty glass, and followed Sonia back into the crowd. 

I could tell the woman was a confirmed dancer at the first contact. Her hands on my waist and scapula guided my body along her moves. She spoke in my ear without breaking our dance  "you’re living in Paris ?". Her smile was really charming and I felt exhausted all of sudden. Why couldn’t I crush on girl like her ? Why couldn’t things be simple and flowing ? Why was I liking one in the handful of people on earth I wasn’t allowed to ?

"No, I live Madrid actually, I’m just here for a couple of days " I answered. She made us turn around in a few quick dancing step and I caught a glimpse of Misa’s face glancing at us from across the the room, scowling, lips pinched. I couldn’t help feeling a bit satisfied jealously had changed side. 

"When are you leaving ?" Sonia asked. 

"Tomorrow" I said sadly as I was really enjoying your trip in Paris. 

The pretty women strengthened her grip, her mouth back to my ear "too bad… we can still spend the night…". I led out a soft chuckle. The prospect was tempting but I couldn’t go with Sonia like that. We weren’t even together, but I felt a jolt as I realized I would feel like cheating on Misa. My heart tightened as the thought of the footballer’s upset features. 

I pulled back from Sonia, my eyes already excusing "I’m sorry Sonia but I can’t. Thanks for the dance though, it was nice. You made me feel I danced well too". Sonia grind, obviously not vexed "De rien ! Good night to you Nicky." and she left, disappearing in the compact mass of people. 

The room had filled even more, blocking the view I had on the goalkeeper and barely allowing me to find my way back to the wall. I leant against the relatively fresher surface and began to text Misa to know where they were. The familiar silhouette of a brunette with broad shoulders extricate herself from the packed dancers. Misa scowl disappeared the moment she saw me and I was so happy to find her I flung myself in her arms, alcohol allowing me to be so reckless.  

Misa raised her eyebrows, surprised by this outrush of affection, especially after having see me dance with another women but shortly her body relaxed and she hold me against her. Not leaving her embrace, I slowly began to moved along the song’s rhythm. The goalie followed me, our hips pressed and moved in sync. Somehow feeling like sheltered by the dense crowned, we danced like we were alone, eyes closed and bodies stuck against each other. 

The music went slower, I turned around and put my back to her. My butt pressed on her hips, she wrapped her arms around me, shoved my hair to one side and planted a kiss on my neck. I shivered, led a blind hand grasp her hair for her to kiss more. Her hands on my stomach pushed my bottom harder against her while her lips worked their way up to my jawline. My face oriented itself toward them. She found the corner of my mouth, I growled in frustration and I turned to her again to fully receive her kiss. The close, the risks, the consequences, were swallowed by those luscious lips pushing me back to the wall, my arms around her neck ensnaring her body to mine as she had me cornered. 

The slow melody faded to a groovy one but we weren’t dancing anymore, lost in our heated kiss against the wall. I was so worked up it was painful. Snogging her wasn’t even barely enough, it was becoming excruciating. I was dying for more, for the all party, for a release that had never came yet. So I quitted her mouth and went to pant in her ear "Let’s go back to the hotel, to my room… por favor!". Hearing her gasp finished to convince me we shouldn’t last here anymore. 

As I began to drag her toward the exist, Misa held me back "We can’t go together on our own, it will look suspicious. We have to get the others to go or wait for them !". She had stay more sensible tonight and I had to admit she was right if we didn’t want Sofie and Kathellen spreading the juicy story of two girls coming back earlier to the all team in the morning. 

We found the three other footballers and I spotted Sofie muttering something to Kathleen while looking at us. I realized we were already suspected. Misa went next to the danish girl who nudge her with her elbow and exchanged a suggestive glance. The goalkeeper shook her head, bitterly adding "I queued to the bathroom and I found Nicky having a good time with a pretty French women". 

Sofie bought her partial lie, hitting my shoulder in collusion. "Why didn’t you go with her ? Enjoy your last hours in Paris baby !". 

"Nah, I’m far too tired ! Honestly I’d like to go, you can’t breath in here!". 

"Oh ! So soon ?" Sofie probed with a look the rest of our groupe. I caught eyes with Hayley and passed her a silent plea to help us. I saw the Australian midfielder glanced at Misa, the goalkeeper imperceptibly nodded, her face reddening with embarrassment. 

"I’m ok to go, I’m too hot too and I don’t want to end up looking like Misa’s lobster face." Hayley jibed while backing us up, having Misa shrinking on herself with shame. 

To avoid any further suspicions, the goalkeeper and I didn’t take the same cab to return to the hotel. I paired up with Hayley, leaving Misa with Sofie and Kathellen. In the taxis, I thanked my friend for having us covered. 

"I got you girls, but be more careful, you two are getting so obvious it’s a miracle nobody else hasn’t figured something out" . The Aussie winked. "And please go to your room, I’m next to Misa’s and I would like to sleep well". 

"God sake, Hayley…" 

*** 

I closed the door of my hotel room, tension of my expecting body reaching new heights. All I had to do was wait for Misa but it was already too much for me to handle. My brain was running wild. What if she couldn’t come ? What if she finally didn’t want to ? I had to busy myself to keep my sanity. 

I took off my jacket, shoes and socks and glanced at the room. The bed had been done, white sheets and pillows neatly smothered and ready for us. I found the room too bright and I turned on the night lights near the bed headboard before turning off the ceiling one. The dim glow shrouded the place with a quiet warm ambiance. 

Going in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired and messy. I  brushed my teeth and my hair, took a bit of conditioner to freshen it. Then, I checked my make up, put back deodorant and a spray of perfume… Once, twice, thrice… all of that to help me regain some confidence in vain. 

I went back in the bedroom, more nervous than ever. The waiting seemed to last forever, having me wonder if she was going to come at all. Maybe she found it was too risky in the hotel we shared with the team and staff…

…a soft knock on the door made my heart lift. 

I rushed at it, opening to a very agitated Misa, the goalkeeper checking several times she wasn’t followed before she stepped inside. 

"Perdon Nicky !"  Misa sighted once she had closed the door. "Sofie wouldn’t let me go. She insisted we chatted and drink more in her room for she wasn’t feeling tired ! I told her I’d to go to bed but she wanted to come in my room and busy herself on her phone while I’d sleep !" 

I giggled "Sofie is one of a kind…"

"Si, she is ! But I got rid of her ! Uf !" she leant back to the door, relieved. 

"Phew ! Here you are at last !" I smiled to her, my nervousness surging again. 

We face each other in the small room, jittery and shy, unable to move, now we were finally at it. Silence settle between as we watched each other expectantly. Misa looked down, pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile and nervously massaged her neck. In spite of her charismatic appearance, she could be rather timid in those circumstances. I shook off some of my own diffidence and I walked to her, caught her face in my hands, looking at her tenderly, and my desire for her took over me again. 

I embraced her, kissed her softly, my impatience giving place to a will not to rush as the night still lay ahead. I wanted us to fully experience everything, each kiss and touch, equally moved and aroused by the fact that tonight would always be the first with her. 

Misa sunk in our slow motion, her arms around my neck. Her fingers gently crept in my hair and she pulled my face to deepen our kiss. I ran my hands under her t-shirt, stroking, caressing her skin, before I grabbed and pulled the cloth off the women’s head. Our kiss broken, my gaze wandered over her body and she sized the moment to take off my dress, her fingers folding the fabric up slowly, and finally shoving it off my head as well. We resumed our kissing, skin brushing, hands and fingers running along each other spine, to the point of giving us goosebump. 

Misa advanced, walking me backward to the bed, and taking her shoes off on the way. Our already fast breathing quickened. My heels hit the bed framed, I gasped, turned over at the last moment, having Misa loosing balance and falling onto the mattress. She smiled in surprise and settled herself in the middle of it, her half bare body an irresistible invitation to join her as soon as possible. 

I went over her, instantly back at full-mouthed kissing, a needy fire surged and spread as she caressed my bare skin. Misa straightened up and I wrapped my legs around her hips. Her powerful hands secured me against her while she looked up to me, silently asking for us to resume our kissing. I leaned toward her mouth and softy bit her lower lips, hearing the woman rasping breath in return. I released her, she send her tongue between my lips, reaching for mine, as her fingers found my bra and worked at unhooking it. I imitated her and we both sent our underwear to the floor. Quickly, we pressed our chest against each other, back at stroking our now entire naked upper bodies, the feel of Misa’a soft and bare breast on me stirring waves of heat in my stomach. 

I couldn’t bear to take our time anymore, I put my weight against the goalie to bring her to lie down again. Misa grinned and resisted. I unwrapped my legs, straddling her tights and unceremoniously pushed her back onto the mattress. Her eyes fed on the view of my almost naked figure. I, myself, could barely stand the sight of her lying body, topless, with her arms and long hair spread out on the pillow, her shaped abs and tanned smooth skin showing in the half-light. She looked up with hooded eyes, mouth half opened, surrendering to me taking the lead and allowing me to simply contemplate her for a moment.  

I came to lay a little aside over the goalkeeper, Misa’s arms enclosed me, pushing our breasts to gently squash, sending us both gasping at the sensation. A hand cupped the nap my neck, making my mouth fall back on her lips as I felt her rise her tight between my legs. I led out a wail, fingers gripping the pillow as she began to apply a light pressure there. Slowly I grinded on her, sending rush of pleasure in my body at each slide on her leg. But shorty, the fabric of her jeans bothered me. I broke the contact and I heaved my upper body onto one arm, leading down my other hand to unbutton her pant. 

I reset my position above the goalkeeper, began with a light kiss on her mouth and moved down to her neck. Misa’s hands ran down my back to my bottom as I nipped and licked my way to her breast, her long moans filling the room as I started to kiss her there. One of her hand found mine, the other resting on her own hair, her furrowed brows was giving away her longing. I paused, inhaling the smell of her skin, before I continued my road down. 

I stopped when I reached her jeans, witch I grasped firmly to took it off. Misa chest was rising up and down deeply, looking avidly at me as she had very well guessed were I was planning to go next. I took the time to dispose of my panties, more turned on to see her head jerked back on the pillow as she regained some of her breath. Fuck she was so hot ! Her perfect awaiting body menaced to finish me only at the sight. I tried to cool myself down, pushing back my own arousal as I swiftly pulled off the brunette’s own panties, having both of us bare and trembling with want. 

Slowly, I lowered my head between the goalkeeper’s spread legs, taking a glance at her blushed face, her brown eyes and half-opened quivering lips almost begging. My tongue ran through her and Misa's head fell back again, closing her eyes, as a hight pitch whimper escaped her mouth. Her sweet voice filled the room and covered my own whining. Her hands desperately clung at my hair to have me go on and on, her sounds louder with the increasing rhythm. 

At a moment, she set her arms upward, and messed with her hair, witch fell over her face beautifully. The vision of the brunette lost in pleasure almost had me go over the edge again. One of her hands hided her face, the other gripping the bed sheets as my fingers found their way inside. She was so loud now I was sure we had awakened all the occupants of the floor. I lifted my head to check is she was close, barely able to hold on myself, but Misa, wanting more, pressed my face between her legs again. Fuck ! I was so close, my own cries muffled by my business on her core, when her legs went rigid and pressed on each side of my head. The goalkeeper’s body shuddered, accompanied by deep whiny sights, as she sunk into the bliss. 

I exhaled and rested against her leg a moment, regaining my breath. After the short break, I went next to Misa, facing the goalkeeper laying on her back, her face lost and beautiful. She turned on her side, sent a weak arm over my waist for me to took her in and she nested on my collar bone, peaceful and exhausted. I watched her yearningly, I kissed her forehead and a discreet smile stretched her mouth. 

A couple of minute had passed, with us staying cuddling, when Misa lifted her head to put a soft kiss on my lips. She pulled my face to give me a more heated one, and another. Then she grabbed my leg, heaved it onto her hip and my breathing quickened again at once. Her hand grasped my neck, she sent it traveling to my breast, caressing and pinching my nipples a moment, turning me into a moaning mess, before she led it down, and downer. 

She touched me at last, gasped and smiled at finding me all drenched and I hugged her tight, feverish whimpers leaving my mouth as her fingers easily sled between my legs. I had been already so close I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold much more. Misa’s fingers sunk inside, I whined so loudly I’d have been ashamed, excepted I didn’t gave a fuck. Warmth grew, choking and pleasant each time she went in and out, filling me more and more when I was already so full. 

My half-closed eyes wandered on Misa, and it was the sight of her far too pretty blushed face focussing hard on making love to me that made me came. The deep waves of pure pleasure radiate through my entire body, my arms tightening around her neck, eyes shut, entirely surrendering to the overwhelming feel. 

As bliss took me in, both of us went limp against each other. Exhausted by her match earlier, the footballer as given her last strength to it. I flipped onto the other side, still recovering, while she managed to turn off the light and come to lie close. She pulled the cover onto us both, wrapped me with her arm, I sized her hand falling over, hearing her letting out an approving noise in response. Her slowing and deepening breathing told me she had fell asleep at once, against me, in Paris, the magic French capital.

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Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 10

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Implied smut, angst. Read the tags if you're especially sensitive to certain triggers. I don't want to put them here because they're sort of spoilers.

Word Count: 4,698

A/N: Here's Ch. 10. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Soft snow drifted slowly past the window, white lace against an inky black sky. The world was muffled, and it felt like there was only the two of them in all existence. 

Y/N loved these moments. She wished they could last longer.

But their first week together was almost over and she could feel the vice-like grip that time had on her life. 

They'd been out and about, all over New York and she loved it. But these were still her favorite moments - when the world slept, and time slowed. 

She laid on her side, stretched out and naked beside Dean. She was propped up on her elbow, her cheek resting in her palm. 

Dean dozed lightly as she ran her free hand up and down his torso. He was covered to his waist with the blanket, leaving the wide expanse of his chest and the flat of his stomach exposed for her to run her fingers over.

As she brought her fingertip up to trace over his lips, Dean's breathing changed and his eyes fluttered open. When he saw her staring down at him, his eyes closed again and a sleepy smile pulled up the corners of his mouth.

“Why are you staring at me?” He asked in a voice rough with sleep.

Y/N shrugged and ran the tips of her fingers over his cheekbone and down his jaw. “I don't know, you're just pretty, I guess.”

Dean's smile grew wider and he turned his head slightly so he could kiss her knuckles as she slid them across his scruffy cheeks.

“Well, then by all means, continue.” His words were slightly muffled against her fingers.

His eyelids fluttered open again and Y/N sighed deeply at the site of his stunning emerald gaze. He wasn't pretty, he was beautiful - the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, easily.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “What's going on inside that mysterious mind of yours?” He asked softly.

Not wanting to admit that she'd simply been swooning over him, she smiled teasingly. 

“I was just thinking that there's an awful lot I still don't know about you. I have questions.”

Dean rolled his eyes playfully. “And you've decided the best time to ask me these questions is at,” he looked at the clock on the wall, but couldn't make out the numbers in the darkened room, “at this ungodly hour of the night? When I'm exhausted?” He finished.

Y/N grinned. “Yep.”

When Dean just shook his head with an indulgent smile, Y/N launched into her questions.

“When is your birthday?”

“January 24th.”

“Ooh, it's coming up.” 

Dean shrugged and nodded. “Soon enough.”

Y/N put a finger to her lips, thinking. “Mmm…what's your favorite meal?”

Dean thought for a moment. “Steak and potatoes. Medium rare.” He held up a finger. “Uh, the steak, not the potatoes.” He clarified.

Y/N chuckled. “Good choice.” She paused for a second. “Have you ever been in love?”

Dean's surprise showed on his face before his expression darkened and he pulled away from her, sitting up against the headboard. He shook his head and his tone attempted to be teasing, but didn't quite make it. 

“You went from steak and potatoes to love?” He said the word with a hint of a sneer and shook his head again. 

“No.”

“How do you know?” Y/N asked, aware by his expression that she was on thin ice, but desperately wanting an answer.

“I know because I know.” When Y/N opened her mouth again, he cut her off. “Next question.” He said firmly.

Disappointed, but realizing that was all the answer she was going to get, she moved on, sitting up as well, and tucking the blanket around her nakedness to guard from the chill. Without Dean's warmth, she got cold quickly.

“Um…what kind of student were you?”

Dean's tightly stretched smile softened a little and he shrugged. 

“An unruly one. Sammy was the good student; he was the one who loved school.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I left school when I was thirteen to work.”

Y/N frowned. “That's awfully young.”

He shrugged and his tone was a little too nonchalant. “I like my work.”

“Still, it's a shame you didn't have more time.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled. “Time for what?”

“To be young.” Y/N said, her tone sympathetic.

Dean shook his head. “I'm good.”

Y/N was going to ask more questions, but suddenly Dean pushed up to his knees and used his weight to shove Y/N backwards onto the mattress. 

He reached between them to yank away her blanket, but it didn't matter; she didn't need it with his warm skin and searching fingers back to heat her up.

As he pressed hot kisses down her body, Y/N gasped. “I thought you were exhausted.”

He smiled wolfishly as he moved back up to claim her mouth. He slid his fingers up through the slick wetness that was pooling between her legs, making her suck in a breath as he ended the kiss.

“I'll sleep when I'm dead.”

***

The next morning, they were both exhausted. Dean slept later than he'd meant to and woke up running. 

He came out of the washroom as he tied his red and blue striped tie around his throat.

“Oh, there's a friendly poker game this evening that I'd like us to attend. It's being held in the private back room at Gladwell's Gaming Hall. It's being organized by the group at Northern Freight, but men from Clearwater will be there too along with others. There's going to be a lot of business happening amongst us, so I probably won't be much company.”

He finished tying his tie and darted back into the bathroom, his voice rising so he could still be heard.

“But I think it's important you come, so we can keep up the facade of a social gathering anyway. Other women will come with some of the men, I'm sure.”

“But not wives.” The words were out of Y/N's mouth before she could stop them, but she wished she could take them back immediately. 

Of course not, you fool. Y/N thought angrily at herself. You think these men are going to invite their wives to a gaming hall?

There was silence from the bathroom for a moment and then Dean came out, brushing something from the sleeve of his perfectly tailored dark blue suit.

“No,” he said quietly. “Not wives.”

Y/N shook her head and smiled widely, trying to dispel the awkwardness surrounding them.

“Alright, I'll be ready for seven?”

Dean nodded, walking towards her and bending to kiss her lips briefly. “Good.” He cleared his throat. “See ya.”

He left the room and Y/N felt her stomach sink. The prospect of the gathering didn't fill her with excitement, but she tried to put it out of her mind, reassuring herself with the words she'd been using a lot recently.

It will be fine.

***

By ten o’clock Y/N felt sick to her stomach, and all she wanted was to escape back to the night before, and the soft peace to be found in the dark.

The evening had started well enough. She'd worn a pale pink gown, with a pink and cream striped bodice that was cut in a way that complimented her figure well. The gown had short sleeves which Y/N paired with a pair of long, cream-colored evening gloves.

Dean's eyes glowed when he saw her, and that was enough to make Y/N very pleased with her choice.

Dean had said the party was taking place in a “back room”, which led Y/N to imagine a small, smoke-filled parlor with dingy lighting and yellow walls. She should have known better.

Instead, the “backroom" was the size of a small ballroom. There were seven or eight poker tables set up at one end of the room, and a light buffet and bar at the other. Throughout the evening, food and drinks were served liberally. 

All over the room were pockets of couches, chairs and settees for the women, and occasionally the men, to recline on. They were welcomed into the room by George Taskett, the president of Northern Rail and Freight. 

Y/N knew this was the man Dean was hoping to win over and that it would mean a lot for his business (and by extension, his employees) if he could impress the white-haired gentleman. So, she worked hard to be as friendly and charming as possible when she met him. 

He was a lively older man, easily in his late sixties, but still sharp and engaging. His bright blue eyes twinkled as he gave a slight bow over the hand Y/N held out to him.

“What a charming companion, Mr. Winchester, a lovely addition to our party.” He said smoothly.

Y/N blushed at the compliment which only seemed to delight the gentleman further.

Their conversation was interrupted, however, by Byron Temple, the vice-president of the company. Unlike George Taskett, Y/N knew this man frustrated Dean completely, and she immediately understood why. The man gave off a very unsettling quality. His stare was too intense as he raked it up and down her form. His smile seemed oily when he shared it.

“Indeed, Winchester,” Temple said, picking up the thread of Taskett’s comment, “where have you been hiding such a beautiful bloom?”

Where Taskett's compliment had felt genuine and kind, Temple's was cloaked in something dark that made Y/N step slightly closer to Dean.

The man continued to stare at her, licking his lips before addressing Dean again. “I believe I know what you were doing when you thrice canceled our meetings. Who would want to talk about boring business matters with something so delectable just waiting for them to get home?”

Y/N felt Dean stiffen beside her and take a step towards Temple. But George Taskett spoke before he could.

“You forget yourself, Byron.”

It was clear who was the real power at Northern Freight because Byron was instantly full of apologies.

“No disrespect meant. I just think you'd be a hard woman to ignore.”

Taskett smoothed things over by introducing Y/N to some of the other women, including a beautiful woman with chestnut hair and pale blue eyes that he introduced as his “dear friend”, Viola.

“They'll keep you company while we men gamble away our good fortune and sense.”

Viola patted Taskett’s arm. “Win big, Georgie.”

Taskett seemed slightly embarrassed to be addressed like a six year old schoolboy in short pants. But nevertheless he kissed his companion’s hand and moved over to the poker tables. 

Dean kissed Y/N's cheek and gave her a wink before he followed.

Unfortunately, Y/N’s shy nature didn’t serve her well when it came to getting acquainted with the women she went to sit with. Most of them seemed to know each other already and chatted easily together. The conversation began innocently enough - what they thought the new fashions were going to look like in 1901, where they thought the hemlines and waistlines were bound to fall.

They discussed the latest issue of Harper's Bazaar and exchanged some stories and anecdotes about acquaintances known to them all. Though she wasn’t joining in, it was an interesting enough conversation to keep Y/N invested and listening, nodding along quietly.

However, as the evening wore on and the wine, champagne, and sherry kept flowing, the women began to loosen their tongues and things soon became a little crass and then a lot carnal.

The women's voices fell as they began discussing some of the men in the room, as well as others they'd known that weren't present. Eventually nothing seemed off limits. The women began comparing their lovers’ techniques and stamina as well as the size of their bank accounts and…other things. 

Y/N was trying desperately to fade into the background, but she knew her face was turning bright red as she listened. She now knew more about the men sitting around the tables than she ever wanted to.

Amanda, a blonde woman with small gray eyes which she rolled in annoyance, explained her lover's biggest flaws. “Grant farts every time he comes. It's completely disgusting and will rip me away from anything close to a climax.”

The women all laughed. “But,” she added, “I've never had a man demand so little of me. You know, he's perfectly content to just let me lay there while he enjoys himself. So, I can't complain.”

“Thomas really spoils me.” A woman named Celia boasted loudly over the end of Amanda's sentence. “When I saw this simply exquisite cameo in the window of Francois’, he insisted on buying it for me.”

A dark haired woman named Doris scoffed. “Of course he spoils you. It's the only way to combat his fat stomach and bald head.”

The circle of women laughed again, though Celia was unimpressed. Y/N tried to smile, hoping to stay out of things, happy to be ignored. But Doris quickly turned her flashing black eyes in her direction.

“This one on the other hand,” she said, pointing a long skinny finger at Y/N, “has landed the cream of the crop!” 

Y/N just smiled and nodded again, hoping someone else would pick up the conversation. But all eyes turned to her.

Viola spoke up. “Yes, how did you hook him? Doris has been after him for years without a nibble.” 

It was Doris’ turn to frown as the women chuckled. She scowled at Y/N and then lifted her nose. “Doesn’t matter. I'll get another chance soon enough. We all know Dean Winchester changes women like he changes his socks. Isn't that right, Faye?”

She caught the eye of a plump woman whose curly blonde hair couldn't possibly be her own. Faye smiled wickedly. “Best month of my life! I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” She sighed dramatically. “But he never goes back to his previous women.” She looked at Y/N and wagged a finger. “So, take my advice, darling, enjoy every minute.”

The women all nodded knowingly and began pestering her and Faye for details about Dean. Coming to her rescue, Viola cut them off. 

“Yep, gotta hold onto those good ones that’s for sure.”

She launched into a story about the first man to take her in; she explained that she’d been a stage actress when she was young and he’d discovered her there. 

Most of the other women seemed to know the story well, because they broke off into other conversations amongst themselves. But Y/N was transfixed by Viola's words; they made her stomach tighten in a very unpleasant way.

“He just plucked me from the stage. He said I was too beautiful to be ‘hoofing it for the masses’, as he put it. Swept me away to his country estate.”

She shrugged. “It may have been a little boring out in the country, but it was rich and lush. It was heaven. Then wouldn't you know it - wife shows up, screeching like a mad woman and chucks me out of the house, not a cent in my pocket.”

The women listening along with Y/N, commiserated as Viola shook her head. “Don't be fooled by pretty words girls,” she said wisely, “get those rocks up front.”

A few minutes later, some of the women began pairing off with their men, most of whom needed cheering up, having had poor luck at the tables. Y/N looked over to see Dean still sitting casually in his chair, a fat pile of chips in front of him. It would be some time before he left the table.

For a little while, she sat on her own, trying to digest everything she'd heard, and slipping what she hoped were discreet looks in Faye’s direction. 

What had her relationship been like with Dean? What had she done with him? 

A sarcastic voice popped into her mind. 

Well, I bet she wasn't denying him access to anything; and very likely, she wasn't trying to hang on to her virginity by not letting him bed her properly.

Y/N felt her cheeks burn, partly from embarrassment at her thoughts and partly in a completely irrational, jealous rage at Faye-the-fake-blonde. Y/N tried to stop, reminding herself that Faye had been perfectly cordial to her and that she was being uncharitable. But logic and rationality weren't readily available to her at that moment.

Eventually, Y/N gained some company when Viola crossed the room and grabbed up her hand, pulling her over to sit on a small settee in the corner. She patted Y/N's hand as she let it go. 

“I just wanted to make sure that you weren't upset or bothered by what Doris or Faye had to say; Faye is old news to Dean, I'm sure, and Doris is just jealous.”

Y/N shook her head; she didn't want to talk about any of it. “No, it's fine.”

Viola smiled knowingly. “You have to understand where they’re coming from; you scored the prize bull your first time at the rodeo.” She arched a brow. “This is your first time at the rodeo, isn’t it?”

Y/N shrugged, not sure how to answer that. But Viola nodded, coming to her own conclusions. “Being new to the life can be exciting and a little scary, I know. But I meant what I said earlier. Be cautious. From everything I've heard, Dean is incredibly generous. Take advantage of that, because you don't know what the next one will be like.”

She lifted her hand. “Not that I'm saying you shouldn't enjoy yourself.” She reassured her, sighing in much the same way Faye had, very wistfully.

“I suppose we're all a little jealous of you, even me.” She shook her head. “I don't think there's a girl in here who wouldn't happily drop to her knees and give that man anything he wanted if he said he'd take her.”

When Y/N just stared at her, Viola put a hand over her mouth and giggled lightly.

“Gosh, you really are new, aren't you? Don't worry, you'll fit in soon enough.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper and she spoke behind her hand. “But you've just got to tell me. Is he as good in bed as everyone says?”

“I…uh - I don't…” Y/N stuttered, completely at a loss for how to answer that.

Viola gave Y/N a conspiratorial look. “Making him wait a bit, are you?” 

Y/N just sputtered some more, but Viola wasn’t paying attention. “Word to the wise when it comes to that tactic. It can work really well. Men love the ‘innocent flower’ act, and you can string them along for quite a while that way, and reap all the benefits.” 

She held up a finger in warning. “But you can't deny them too often, can't do it for too long, or they get angry and lose interest. Make sure you're timing things right.”

For another thirty minutes Viola went on, giving Y/N tricks of the trade and unsolicited advice. Y/N appreciated the sentiment, but it wasn’t helping her nausea.

“Take my Georgie,” Viola said with an affectionate look in his direction, “he can't get it up anymore which is a shame, but he spoils me a lot to make up for it. And you've gotta play the hand you’ve been given. My apartment on Bleeker is an awful lot nicer than what Celia has. Thomas can barely manage to put her up in a one room flat on 78th Street.”

She shrugged delicately. “But, she too is playing the hand she was dealt, because it's still a big step up from where she was when he found her.” She shook her head. “Some leaky mess on Channing.”

Viola gave Celia a pitying look. “I hope she's smarter this time around when Thomas goes looking again. Hope she watches her money and finds a good buyer for that cameo he bought for her, so it lasts her till the next man comes along.”

Throughout all of Viola's advice, Y/N couldn't seem to come up with appropriate reactions or facial expressions. In the end she just felt herself go blank and numb.

She knew Viola was trying to be kind, trying to give her advice, help her fit in, as she said. But Y/N felt sick at the way she talked about jumping from man to man like it was nothing.

No, Y/N thought to herself, it's not nothing. 

According to Viola, it was everything - the ability to find a new man when this one dropped you.

Finally seeming to catch on to some of Y/N's upset, Viola patted her arm.

“Oh, sweetie, don't worry. Like I said, Dean is incredibly generous to his women. And a pretty little, innocent looking thing like you,” she shook her head, “you'll get snatched up quick when Dean is done.”

Y/N had no response; she just nodded. “Thank you.” She said huskily, praying this conversation was over. 

Very thankfully, she saw Dean making his way over to her. Viola patted her hand again and rose, smiling coquettishly at Dean as she passed him. Dean's face was content and happy as he approached Y/N. 

“All in all, I'd say this was a very productive evening. Managed some good talks with Taskett, all while emptying Temple’s pockets.” He said with a wide grin.

Y/N smiled lightly. “That's good.” 

Dean frowned a little. “Is everything alright?”

Y/N nodded, not wanting to burst the bubble of his evening, and really not wanting to describe hers. 

“Oh, yes, just tired. Late night, long day.”

Dean lost his frown and smiled. “Yes, absolutely. Would you like to go now?”

Y/N hoped her frantic nod didn't seem too eager.

“Alright, I'll ask for our coats.” He strode away to speak with someone, but as he walked out of ear shot, she felt a presence come up behind her. 

She turned and started slightly as Byron Temple appeared at her elbow.

He snickered lightly. “I'm sorry, Miss - Taylor, was it? I didn't mean to frighten you.”

She wanted to tell him that he was a liar; everything about him said he was there to put her on edge. He stood too close and he dipped his head too low when he spoke. She could smell the brandy on his breath and wanted to step back, but that would mean falling onto the settee.

So, she merely smiled and shook her head. “No, it's fine, sir, you didn't frighten me.”

His eyes lit up. “I like the way you say sir.” Again he raked her up and down with his gaze. He leaned imperceptibly closer and spoke very low. 

“You can call me that again, as soon as Winchester sets you aside. Then you’ll come stay with me and learn what it's like to be fucked by a real man.” His breath was hot against her neck as he lingered a moment before he slithered back the way he came. 

Y/N felt dizzy, like she might pass out. 

Or scream. Or run at the disgusting man and scratch his eyes out.

But Dean showed up at her side to help her into her coat, and she remembered that Temple was someone he was supposed to do business with; she couldn't cause a scene.

So for the hundredth time that night, she smiled when she wanted to cry and let Dean escort her away from it all. 

***

She knew she was too quiet on the carriage ride home. Dean asked her twice if everything was alright. Both times, she answered that she was just tired.

She knew he didn't fully believe her. When they got back to the hotel, he helped her out of her dress and corset, but before he could do anything more, she moved into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

She splashed cold water on her face, but she emerged still feeling ill. She'd changed into one of her new nightgowns, a long, lace and silk garment with a dressing gown to match. She tied the glossy belt around her waist as she entered the room, and Dean paused as he was removing his tie to give her a low whistle. 

“Huh. I think I get you naked too quickly when we get home every evening. Need to let you put on these beautiful things so I can take them off you.”

He came up behind her as she tucked away her evening gloves in the wardrobe drawers. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her cheek, placing soft kisses along her neck.

Her body responded immediately; her stomach fluttered, and she could feel her nipples harden against the silk of her nightgown.

But she still felt sick from her evening - heartsick and unsure of everything, and it stopped her from melting into him completely. Dean noticed quickly and turned her gently in his arms. 

He cupped her cheeks and let his thumbs sweep across her cheekbones. “Do you just want to sleep?”

Viola's voice came back into her mind.

“...But you can't deny them too often, can't do it for too long, or they get angry and lose interest…”

What rules came along with the role of mistress? Could she just go to sleep? Her thoughts were a whirling mess as she looked up at Dean, questioning. 

“Is that allowed?”

He pulled back from her slightly. “Allowed?” He asked a little hesitantly.

“I don't know the rules.”

Dean frowned. “The rules about sleeping?” 

Y/N paused for a breath. “About saying no.”

Dean's eyes widened and he stepped away from her completely. His expression was incredulous. 

He raised his hand and pointed a finger at her. “You wanna know the rules…” He paused briefly. “... about saying no to…me.”

Y/N shrugged; her head was aching. “I'm just curious.”

Dean's jaw ticked. “Curious. About whether or not you're allowed to refuse me.”

Y/N folded her arms across her chest. Anger she couldn't explain began rising in her chest.

“Well, strictly speaking…I mean, you're paying for everything, paying for me, so doesn't that make me an employee? Don't I have to do what I'm paid for?”

For a flash Dean looked like she'd slapped him. “Jesus Christ.” He said, hoarsely. 

After a beat, the hurt in his eyes melted away to be replaced by anger. 

“You really need to ask me whether you're ALLOWED to say no, or whether I'll just say ‘too bad’ and force you?”

His anger bolstered her own. Everything was confusing and she was exhausted and all she wanted was to cry on Dean's shoulder. But instead she balled her hands into fists and gritted her teeth before speaking. 

“That's a little dramatic, I'm not talking about you forcing me.”

Dean spoke loudly over the end of her sentence. “That's exactly what you're talking about, Y/N. If I try to bed you and you say no, and I just take you against your will?” He threw up his hands. “Y/N, that's the goddamn definition of rape!” He ended on a shout and Y/N felt tears prick the backs of her eyes.

Dean spun away from her and swiped his hand down his face. When he slowly turned back to face her his voice and his expression were cold. 

“Fine then, the rule is as follows; in the future, when you're not interested in having me touch you, all you have to do is say no. And trust in the fact that I'm not going to just ignore your wishes and molest you.”

He grabbed up his coat from where he'd tossed it on the green chair. “You’re tired. So I'll leave and let you sleep.” His green eyes were as hard as jade as he stared at her a moment, before looking at the ground. “Goodnight.”

He walked out the door, and Y/N half expected him to slam it. But he closed it quietly, taking away her anger and leaving her with nothing but a ticking clock and a battered heart.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Dean Fics Only:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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[occasionallyprosie]

A Thousand Ways

Chapter 13: "The Hero's Sister"

The chain gets to meet one of their own's sister… Hyrule and Legend also get adopted and neither is complaining.

First | <<Previous | Next>>

Read On AO3

----

The next shift, which arrived before they could reach Hyrule Castle, took them to Warriors' era.

It seemed whatever was throwing them from era to era only brought them to Legend's for him to arrive just when it was too late to save his grandparents.

Legend took about a week to get a hold of himself, then he was able to act as normal again, throwing off most of the group.

He didn't care if it confused some of them, or if they may have thought him heartless for not mourning his grandparents longer. Frankly he let their deaths affect him longer than usual... yeah, he was shoving the pain down until the quest eventually ended so he could break down and adjust himself to all the pain, but... He couldn't risk remaining compromised, emotionally or otherwise.

Epona couldn't cross through the portal, though Legend had anticipated that, and in the few hours between leaving the remnants of his grandparents’ farm and coming to the next portal. In that time, He enchanted an old flute of his with the three whistles from Holodrum as inspiration.

Epona assured him that it was as if the flute rang in her mind and his location was a homing beacon when they tested it. She promised to come find him when he called.

They went through the portal, and on the other side, Warriors claimed the land as his own. Soon enough, they were wandering some small town filled with people who clearly knew their resident hero.

Legend hadn't paid that much mind, his own era's towns were always filled with people who knew him, it came from helping them out all the time.

He lingered at a stall with some magic items, Hyrule pointing to one and asking the merchant about it. They received a decent sales pitch and description of the item. An ancient ring forged in dragon fire with the power to protect the wearer from flames.

Legend noted the magic itself was just basic flame protection and made a comment that it must be expensive if it was so rare, asking if he could see it. He was allowed to hold it, and then they were told it was a thousand rupees.

Hyrule frowned. "You know, that's so odd... See, we're something of magic users ourselves, and that's..."

"That's a basic fire protection charm on a... plain gold ring and those rubies have several visible imperfections," Legend finished. "I'm also a bit of an artisan, so between the two of us, we know our stuff."

Hyrule smiled sharply. "Sorry, give me your name again?"

"Uhh, Ar--"

"Arthur, right!" Hyrule's grin sharpened even more. "Why don't you put some time and effort into being honest and not selling fakes."

Legend snorted as the man tripped over himself to remove the fakes from his stall, and he nodded Hyrule to move on.

"Not bad, Rulie."

"Thanks. I hate liars, there's no way you could even forge anything short of steel in Dragonfire, unenchanted gold would turn to ash!" Hyrule huffed.

Legend snorted. "Not wrong there--"

"Hey! You!" Legend knew that voice. He turned and Linkle was there. "I didn't think you'd be back here! You look a lot better than last time I met you."

"I was half dead last time you met me," Legend deadpanned. Hyrule glanced between them. "Oh! This is Piyoko!"

Piyoko happily let Linkle pick her up.

Link! Link! She's like you! Piyoko declared. Hello, miss!

Linkle grinned. "Hi there!"

Hyrule tapped Legend's shoulder and he looked over. "Oh, this is Linkle. I ran into her last time I was in this era... I didn't actually know it was the captain's but yeah. She helped me out."

"Kid showed up half dead on my doorstep," Linkle said, cradling Piyoko in one arm as she held out her other hand to Hyrule. "You must be one of his time-traveling brothers then?"

Hyrule smiled and nodded. "Yep! Well--We're not brothers, but that's the easiest to say."

"Hey, brothers-in-arms is a term, it's not lying if you don’t specify," she responded. "I'm glad this guy actually has some gear now. Don’t you take after him, kiddo, he showed up on our doorstep covered in blood with only a knife--a single knife--as his defense."

Hyrule snorted. "His magic too, actually. And I'll take after him as much as I want, thank you, ma'am."

Legend rolled his eyes. "First of all, it was mostly monster blood, and secondly, I slaughtered two whole hordes of monsters with that knife and my magic. Also, don't tell him what to do--and you, don't copy me."

Hyrule just had this blinding grin while Linkle rolled her eyes.

"Hordes? Yeah right, gimme numbers over twenty and we can chat--"

"Fifty-seven with horde one, I remember somewhere around three times that, mass wise, with the second, but I also had some help there and I got my hands on a sword part way through."

Linkle whistled appreciatively. "We could've used your help with the war, and if this brother of yours--" Hyrule glowed a bit brighter, Legend noted that his successor definitely liked being connected to him, "--is anything similar, he would've been an asset too. Shameful of y'all not to show up back then."

"Ah, we've been busy."

"Time travel ain't restrictive, now, is it?"

Legend had to give that to her. However, before he could respond, he heard a familiar whistle. Wild was calling them to regroup.

"Ah, we have to go," Hyrule said. "Nice to meet you, miss Linkle."

"Nah, I'll tag along. Can't hurt to meet the rest of the time travelers, Lana would kill me if I didn't," Linkle waved them off. Legend swore he heard that name before, but he shrugged.

Hyrule frowned and looked at Legend, but he shrugged. "Piyoko likes her, and I trust her." As much as he could trust someone he didn't actually know. "Worst comes to worse, we meet with the others and Pretty Boy tries to kill her, so we help."

"One of your brothers are gonna try to kill me?" she asked bluntly.

"If he knows you and you're an enemy, then yeah, and we'd side with him," Legend admitted easily as Piyoko squirmed from Linkle's arms and landed on Legend's shoulder. "But I think you’re a good person so by all means you should be fine."

Linkle sighed. "And here I go, doing the one thing I told Momma I wouldn't do: risk being killed."

Hyrule snorted as they headed off toward in the direction Wild had whistled from. "Okay, no, I like her too. Can we keep her?"

"Eh, sadly she doesn't fit the whole Triforce of Courage, Master Sword, killed Ganon, or is a reincarnation of Sky's previous incarnation, and she wasn't dragged to join us by the goddess, so I don’t think so. Unless she is?" Legend raised an eyebrow at her.

She blinked. "Wait--If those are your "brothers-in-arms" group's requirements then--"

"Vet! Traveler!" Warriors called as they reached a market street. "What took you-- Linkle?!"

"Link! You absolute bastard! You told Ma you were on a sanctioned mission out west! Not some goddess-driven quest!"

Warriors tried to backpedal but Linkle was fast. She grabbed his collar and threw him into a nearby merchant's stall. The merchant, though startled, saw who it was and just sighed heavily... as if this was normal.

"Hey!" Sky reached for his sword.

"No! No--It's fine!" Warriors said quickly, getting up fast. His nose was bleeding, and he was holding it with one hand while his other rapidly waved Sky off. "She's my sister!"

"The sister you lied to!" She screeched. "Oh, Ma is gonna be so pissed! You lied to her! Yer out here time travelin' again an' recruitin' actual children?!" Linkle gestured to Legend and Hyrule, the former of which scooped Piyoko up from where Linkle had dropped her. "You told us it was a damned political venture to re-negotiate borders!"

Legend shared a wide-eyed glance with Hyrule. Then the others seemed equally shaken, yet most of the townsfolk seemed unsurprised, guards included and just gave them a wide berth.

"It was!" Warriors argued. "I just... Got portal-napped on the way and didn't tell you in the letters."

"You said the negotiations were going well in those letters!"

"They might've been! I didn't know!"

"Oh, you--!"

Legend stared with wide eyes as they fought. He leaned toward Wind.

"Is this what having siblings is like?"

Wind snorted. "Oh yeah, only when one of you fucks up."

Legend nodded slowly. Maybe he shouldn't tell Fable...

They watched as Warriors and Linkle argued, fought--bruised and bit arms-- and hurled insults 'til they turned blue. Then at some point their... altercation paused, and Legend decided to put all his bravery to the test to intervene, despite Twilight's and Wind's verbal protests to not.

"Linkle?" Legend entered the five-foot radius everyone gave the siblings.

"What?" She whirled onto him.

He held out Piyoko. "She didn't want to yell."

Link wants you to stop beating up the blue one! Piyoko chirped.

"Hey, snitch," Legend hissed.

"Vet, please put the psycho poultry away--"

"Psycho?! Piyoko is not psycho!" Linkle snarled. "She is an angel!"

"She actually tried to pluck the eyes out of Ganon," Legend admitted.

"Yeah! She actually... she what?" Linkle looked at him confusedly.

Legend grinned. "You heard me. But uhh, it is getting kinda late and I'd rather not be bothering the locals, despite how clearly used to this they are. So, inn and food?

He looked over at Time, who nodded. He seemed a bit surprised but mostly amused.

"Yeah, to the inn and get dinner," Legend repeated then held up Piyoko again, "or I'll sic' her on you and I promise you, she'll win."

Linkle blinked while Warriors just stared. Then the woman grinned. "I like this kid, Link. You found some good ones, but I claim these two."

"Wha--hey!"

"You had Mask and Tune! I'm claiming these two!"

"You’re not even on this quest!"

"I am now, bitch!"

You know? Legend liked Linkle, she was great.

Next>>

[m1ster1e]

paper airplanes.

tadashi hamada x reader

★You finally get to attend your dream school at SFIT in San Fransokyo. It seemed like a dream come true with a wide city to explore and new friends at your side. But they always say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover and boy did San Fransokyo have the most deceiving appearance

tw-depression, injuries, vigilantism. characters are all college aged adults (minus hiro). san fransokyo looks cute but is basically gotham. angst, fluff, romance.

afab! reader plus she/her pronouns!!

chapter [1]

Chapter 2: First Day

You laid there for a minute before rolling out of bed, the cool air of the room raised goose bumps along your skin as you left the warm confines of your comforter.

The gentle jingle of your phone's alarm jolted you awake. The soft music ever so slightly grating at the hour it went off in.

For a second you wondered why you had agreed to go out to a cafe at a relatively early time on the weekend, right after spending the day prior traveling and unpacking luggage, but you knew once your day started it wouldn't be so bad.

After finishing your morning preparations you met Lily in your shared living space. She adorned a pastel sweater over a white tank top and handmade beads draped between the two belt loops of her jeans. On her right hand was a small collection of silly bands and a variety of rings covered several of her fingers. The colors of her outfit shined brightly against her warm skin and mismatched clips in her hair held back heaps of dark curls.

"You ready?" She asks as she grabbed her hand painted tote bag and stood up from her seat on the couch, "I think if we go now we shouldn't have too much of a hard time with lines".

You nodded and collected your belongings as well, leaving the comforts of your dorm to join Lily in her ideas for the day.

Fortunately there were multiple bus stops in various places around campus, allowing you and other students to better navigate the city. Your student ID doubling as a bus pass also makes the journey just that much simpler.

The two of you made your way to the nearest bus stop, chatting lightly about your classes and plans for the semester. When the bus arrived, you both boarded, flashing your student IDs to the driver before finding seats near the back. The ride was smooth, and you took in the sights of the city as you traveled.

After a short ride, you arrived at the stop nearest to the Lucky Cat Cafe. Stepping off the bus, you were greeted by the lively atmosphere of the neighborhood, filled with various shops and restaurants. The cafe itself was charming, with a warm, inviting exterior and a sign that read "Lucky Cat Cafe" in bright, friendly letters.

As you walked in, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods welcomed you. The interior was cozy and inviting, with wooden chairs and tables, colorful artwork on the walls, and a counter filled with an array of tempting treats. You and Lily found a table by the window and sat down, eager to enjoy your morning together.

The menu was posted online so you were able to browse options without awkwardly standing in front of the counter, a true blessing as you didn't feel like standing in the way of people attempting to put in their orders.

"I think I know what I want, what about you, Lily?" She nodded and grinned, her eyes scanning the menu on her phone.

"Yep, I think I'll go for the matcha latte and a croissant. What about you?"

You glanced at your own phone one last time, making sure of your choice. "I'm thinking of getting (order)."

With your decisions made, you both approached the counter, confident and ready to place your orders. The barista turned around, and you recognized him instantly as the guy who helped you find your dorm. His warm smile made your heart skip a beat.

"Hey, welcome to the Lucky Cat Café! What can I get for you today?" Tadashi asked, his friendly demeanor putting you at ease.

You exchanged a quick, surprised glance with Lily before placing your order. "I'll have (order), please."

"And I'll get a matcha latte and a croissant," Lily added, her eyes briefly flicking between you and Tadashi.

As Tadashi started preparing your drinks, Lily leaned in and whispered, "He seems really nice."

You nodded, watching Tadashi skillfully handle the various machinery. "Yeah, he does, he actually helped me out the other day."

Once your drinks were ready, Tadashi handed them over with a smile. "Enjoy! Have a great day."

You and Lily found a cozy corner table, settling into the comfortable chairs. As you sipped your drinks, you couldn't help but steal glances at Tadashi, who was now attending to other customers with the same genuine warmth.

"I want to make video games, really, I know whatever about job security but...honestly, that's just what I want to do. Right now I'm in computer science but with a focus on game design." You folded in parts of the napkin as she continued. "After graduation I'd like to go to SFAI and learn more about the artistic side of games, y'know, so I'm more well rounded."

"So," Lily began, her eyes twinkling with curiosity, "What made you choose SFIT?"

"Well I chose SFIT because of how many different pathways and options there are, I want to learn a lot of things from a lot of places, and I felt like SFIT was the best for that. What about you?" You asked, and began fidgeting with the paper napkin on the table.

Her explanation was unique from what you've heard from other students at SFIT, and you wondered if that played into her acceptance. "SFAI? Our rival? That's actually a pretty cool take. What made you want to get into game development?" At this point you were almost done with your masterpiece as you folded even more of the napkin.

"I don't want my life to be boring, if I'm going to work a nine to five until I die I would at least like to be happy doing it and making video games just fits that for me. What about y- oh, you're actually pretty good at that." She referenced to your napkin turned airplane.

"Oh, yeah, I learned the best method I think from a high school physics class, now they're just a fun way to pass time." She grabbed the napkin and examined it, "It won't fly good because it isn't made of paper, but still looks kinda neat," you added but she threw it at you anyway, just for it to fall short on the table.

"Yeah, you're right, but it is still pretty cool." She giggled as you balled up the napkin in preparation to toss it.

As you and Lily finished your drinks and pastries, you noticed Tadashi approaching your table with a friendly smile.

"How was everything?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"It was great, thank you," you replied, returning his smile.

Lily nodded in agreement. "Yeah, the matcha latte was amazing. We'll definitely be coming back."

Tadashi chuckled. "Glad to hear it. If you ever need any recommendations or help around the city, feel free to ask."

"Actually," you said, seizing the opportunity, "do you have any suggestions for places to check out?"

Tadashi thought for a moment, then mentioned a nearby park, a popular bookstore, and a few other interesting spots. As he talked, you couldn't help but notice the genuine enthusiasm in his voice.

"Thanks, Tadashi," you said. "We'll definitely look into those."

"No problem," he replied. "Here, let me give you my number. If you ever want a local's tour or just need some help, don't hesitate to reach out."

He handed you a small piece of paper with his phone number scribbled on it. You felt a flutter of excitement as you took it, carefully tucking it into your pocket.

"Thank you," you said again. "We'll definitely keep that in mind."

With that, he gave a small wave and returned to the counter. You and Lily gathered your things and headed out of the café, feeling a little more at ease in the bustling city.

The bus ride back to campus was filled with light conversation and laughter as you and Lily shared your thoughts on the café and Tadashi’s recommendations. Once you reached your stop, the two of you walked back to your dorm, the campus now alive with students going about their day.

Back in your apartment, you both headed to your respective rooms to relax. After changing out of your street clothes you sank into your bed, enjoying the softness of your comforter after the busy morning. Taking out your phone, you decided to text Tadashi to make it easier for him to add you to his contacts.

"Hey Tadashi, it's (y/n) from the Lucky Cat Café. Thanks for the recommendations! :)"

You hit send and placed your phone on the bedside table, feeling a sense of anticipation for his response. As you settled into your room, you reflected on the quiet day, content with the promise of new connections and the anticipation of what was to come.

Y'all I'm so sorry for ANOTHER short chapter with low amounts of Tadashi, we will get there TRUST! Plus, I just moved, it's finals week, I'm changing my major, work week for cheer started, I have new projects at my job, and overall am absurdly busy lol so please be patient with the quality and quantity of my writing so far. I don't like setting up the beginning of a story so it might be slow until I get to the parts I'm excited about.

If you have any recommendations or ideas please lmk!! I would love to hear from everyone :) ♡

[siampie]

Risk and Reward||Chapter 6: I Think He Knows

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Tension rises between you and Matt. That’s it. That’s the chapter. Also, teasing Matt and Reader.

Warnings/tags: No smut but mentions of sex, angst, fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood trauma

A/N: Don’t kill me for this, please. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.  

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Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie, @sunflowersandsapphires, @abbyhaslongshorts, @schneeflocky, @danzer8705

@ebathory997,

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

He got my heartbeat

Skipping down 16th avenue

Got that, ah, I mean

Wanna see what’s under that attitude, like

I want you, bless my soul

And I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows

I think he knows

You stood outside with Amelia as she was smoking. It wasn’t as chill as it was a few months ago.

“Crazy thought.” You started; Amelia hummed as she glanced back at you. “Would it be crazy if I just grab a handful of Matt’s ass?”

“The hell?” Amelia looked at you, mouth agape.

“Would it?”

“No, it wouldn’t be crazy for you to put your hands on your boyfriend. In that way.” Amelia said slowly. “And really, that's your crazy thought?”

“You’re right, I chose the less crazy one.” You said seriously. “Do you want the real crazy one?”

“Hit me.” Amelia nodded.

“So, I was watching the Walking Dead last night. It was the Terminus arc and I was wondering—would you be willing to eat people in an apocalypse if it meant survival?”

Amelia let out a big exhale, smoke flowing in the air, she turned to you with a deadpan look on her face. “Yep, that’s on brand.”

“So?”

“I’ll do you one better.” She laced her arm with yours as she led you back inside the bar. “Would it be considered cannibalism if you took a bite out of your boyfriend’s ass?”

“Kinky, maybe.” You giggled.

“You thought about it, didn’t you?”

“I’m thinking about it, now.”

You both giggled as you made your way back to your group of friends. You took your seat next to Matt. A boyish grin lighting up his face, he pulled your chair closer to his, before wounding his arm around your waist.

Things had been going well between you and Matt. It has been a month since you officially became a couple. Between lunch and coffee dates, you and Matt spent as much time as possible together, you were practically joined at the hip. Both of you couldn’t get enough of each other.

The giddiness and the butterflies never seemed to leave you. And they only seemed to amplify each and every single time you saw him. You couldn’t read his mind but you hoped he felt the same way. You hoped you had the same effect on him as he had on you.

His calloused hand had found its place on your thigh as the evening went on. His thumb brushed on the inside of your thigh, making it hard for you to focus on the current conversation. Heat pooled at your core. You took in a shaky breath and you saw a cheeky grin bloomed on his face.

“What are you doing?” You leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Nothing.” He answered, faking innocence. His hand moved a little further up.

“Matt,” you said his name in warning.

“What is it I’m doing, sweetheart?”

“Careful, Matthew. Two can play this game.”

“Oh, really?” Matt huffed out a laugh.

You leaned closer, your hand resting high on his thigh. You gave it a light squeeze. “Really.” You smirked, pulling away, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His fingers flexing against your own thigh.

You stood in the corner next to Marci as the rest of your group were playing pool. Your eyes had inevitably found Matt’s wonderful ass. He was bent over, giving you a clear view. The best so far in the bar. And tried as you may, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from it. Marci bumped into you, bringing you back to the one-sided conversation she’d been having for the past few minutes.

“You’re staring.” She teased you.

You glanced quickly away from him. “No, I’m not.” You took a sip from your beer.

“Liar.” Marci scoffed. “There’s no harm in you appreciating your man’s ass.”

Heat gathered to your ears as your eyes made contact with Matt over the pool table. A boyish smile gracing his lips. “Stop. I wasn’t staring. I was—admiring the view.”

Matt’s grin widened at your words as Foggy led him around the table to the cue ball. He leant over the table, jutting his hips out, giving you a better view of his beautiful ass. The gesture gave you pause, though. If you didn’t know any better, you’d thought he would have heard you from across the room. But that couldn’t be. He and Foggy were too far away for them to hear your conversation. Still, it seemed as though he was doing this on purpose.

“I have no doubt about that.” Marci smirked at you.

“Oh, shut up.” You huffed out a laugh.

A game of pool later, Matt was sitting next to you while the rest of you was engage in another game. You were highly aware of his thigh pressed against yours as his fingers kept on brushing back and forth on the back of your neck. You let out a shaky breath, crossing your legs, a feeble attempt to create any kind of friction to ease your heated core.

“You sure you don’t want to play?” Matt questioned playfully.

“I wouldn’t know how.” You replied, shifting in your seat.

“I can teach you.” He offered, turning slightly to face you.

“Maybe another time.”

“Come on, sweetheart, it’s not that hard.” He said in a sultry voice. His left hand came to rest on your knee, his fingers brushing against the back of your knee.

“You’re just looking for an excuse to bent me over the table, aren’t you?” You tried to make yourself sound sexy. As you pronounced those words, you let your fingers run up and down his forearm.

You leaned in and kissed his nose, then his cheek, before pressing the last one on his lips. Your left hand had moved to his thigh, hidden from view, you slowly trailed it higher, inching closer to his crotch. His hand circled around your wrist.

“Careful, sweetheart, don’t start something you can’t finish.” His voice huskier than before.

“Who said anything about not finishing?” You shot back.

His hand left your wrist, moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. A boyish grin made its way onto his face, “I like that side of you.”

“You do?”

His nose brushed against yours as he leaned in. “I can’t wait to see more of it.” He pressed his mouth against yours.

“That’s enough, you two.” Amelia dropped in the seat next to you. “We get it, okay. You’re horny for each other.”

“Amelia,” you whined, your ears and cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“What?” Amelia shrugged. “I’m only stating facts, am I not?”

Karen sat down next to her, Foggy and Marci joining your small group. “I agree with her.” Marci remarked. “You two are all over each other.”

Your entire face flushed, heat spreading through it. Now, you were mortified. Did they have to be so open about it? Sure, you and Matt had been focused on each other all night, but it wasn’t a bad thing, was it? You started to pull away from Matt, his grip on your knee tightened, stopping you from moving too far from him.  

“Alright, guys, I’m calling it a night.” Karen announced as she got up, sliding her arms in her coat.

“Yeah, we’re right behind you.” Foggy nodded.

“Karen, you wanna share a cab?” Amelia suggested.

“Yeah,” Karen shook her head yes.

“Don’t do anything too crazy, kids.” Foggy said as he and Marci started out of the bar, she sent you a quick wave, and a sly wink.

Karen and Amelia both left together waving you goodbye. You and Matt were on the sidewalk as you watched both women get into the cab. Matt’s hand slid in yours, making you turn to face him. His free hand came up to cup your jaw.

“I don’t want the night to end just, yet.” He said softly.

“What do you have in mind?” You asked him, in the same tone.

“Well, we could finish that little game you started?” He gave you a cheeky grin;

“I wasn’t the one who started it, if I recall correctly.” You teased back.

He huffed out a laugh. “And if I remember correctly you did talk about finishing it.”

Your face flushed in response, his sultry voice sending shivers down your spine, “how do you propose we do this?” You questioned breathless.

He gazed down at you, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “I have a few ideas.”  The boyish grin morphed into a soft smile. “Would you like to come back to my place?”

You nodded. “I’d like that,” your voice barely above a whisper. He laid a soft kiss on your lips, before pulling away, both of you walking to his place.

It was quiet between you on the way there. You wanted this; you really did but you were also growing nervous. You had some apprehensions regarding physical intimacy with Matt. Physical intimacy, sexual intercourse had been quite a miss for you. You had never really had a good experience when it came to sex. Mostly because most of your sexual experience happened quite late in life, later than most people. It wasn’t that you were a late bloomer. It was more because of a lack of opportunities.

As your father’s primary caretaker, you didn’t have a lot of occasions to go out. And if you did, it would be rubbed in your face for months while he berated you, calling you ungrateful. It didn’t matter that it was the only outing you had in months. He would remind you of this, in every fight, in the months that followed. So, of course, there were not many opportunities for you to date or have sex.

After your brother stepped in and took your father in, you did go out more before moving to Hell’s Kitchen. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t good either. And since moving to Hell’s Kitchen, you only had a one-night stand, that didn’t exactly go well. You were not even sure that it deserved the name of a one-night stand.

You started to think that since you had never reached orgasm during sex, that maybe something was wrong with you. Maybe, you were broken in some ways. You knew you could get there, after all you were no stranger to masturbation. Still, sexual intercourse didn’t really do it for you so far.

But never stopped you from trying, though.

You stepped into his apartment after him and stood in his entry awkwardly as he shut the door behind you. You had been to his apartment before, but he was never just the two of you. This was the very first time that it was just you and him. You walked into his living room, after him, shedding your coat. He moved into his kitchen as you draped your coat on the arm of his leather couch, the neon sign lighting up the room.

“Do you want to drink anything?”

You dropped your bag next to your feet, “no, not really.”

Breathing had become hard suddenly. You clasped your hands together, in an attempt to calm your nerves. Matt came back with a glass of water, placing it on the coffee table. He took off his red tinted shades and left them on the table, giving a clear view of his eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight.” Matt said softly.

“I know, it’s just—” You let out a shaky breath, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I want this,” you shifted, angling yourself to face him. Your knee bumped into his.

You wanted to tell him the truth, be honest. Let him know that although you were by no means a virgin, you had not had a lot of experiences when it came to sex. Matt was a handsome man and you were sure that he had been with a lot of women before.

“There hasn’t been anyone in a while, anyone that mattered.” He admitted quietly, his calloused hand reached for your knee, squeezing it gently. “Truth is, I’m nervous too.”

You placed your hand over his, turning his palm up so you could place your hand in his, interlacing your fingers. “I don’t have a lot of experience when it comes to this sort of—intimacy.” You finally confessed, “and I’m afraid that you can’t help but compare me to others. Because if you do, you might be disappointed. And I don’t want you to be.”

He pulled your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I won’t.” He tugged you towards him, closing the small gap between you. You landed in his lap, straddling him, your hips hovering over his. His hands moved to your hips, yours laid on his shoulders. “You call the shots. If anything makes you feel uncomfortable, we stop.”

“That’s the sexiest thing I ever heard,” you sounded breathless. You sank down onto his lap, his grip on your hips a little tighter. You bit down your bottom lip, stifling a moan, as heat spread through your nether regions.

His hands palmed your ass through your dress, a groan rumbled through his chest, as his head fell back against the back of the couch. “Just tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“You.” You leaned in, your lips barely brushing his. “Only you.”

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[waywardxrhea]

Part of Your World - George Weasley

Chapter 9

pairing: George Weasley x fem!Muggle!reader

installment list / previous chapter / next chapter

word count: 4,162

a/n: as mentioned in the last chapter, if you are purely here for the fluff and the story you don't have to read this chapter! when i wrote this i had went down the sex pollen rabbit hole and ended up here lmao! and to be clear, these are two legal, of age adults in this story! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION! content warnings below the cut!

content: some fluff! alcohol consumption (enough to be tipsy, not drunk - well, except Jasmine lmao), smut! sex potion (dub-con technically?) kissing, love bites, public sexual acts (obstructed from others’ view by magic), fingering, handjob, overstimulation, begging, oral (male and female receiving), language, unprotected sex, aftercare, mentioned future use of a morning after potion.

a/n: wow that’s a lot of content looking back to edit this😅🤣 i got carried away whoops!

“Would you look at you!” George breathed before letting out a low whistle when you opened the door, ready to go to your university’s awards ceremony. For the occasion you opted to wear your favourite glittery lilac dress that had a sweetheart neckline and ended right above your knee. The skirt of the dress rippled in the light June wind and it was one of the few dresses of this length you felt truly confident in, especially after those months at the gym. 

“You’re looking quite sharp yourself,” you replied with a smile, noting that George opted for a matching lilac tie and pocket square. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, offering out his arm. 

“Yep!” you replied, locking the front door. After you did, you hooked your arm in his so you two could begin the walk to the university campus where the small awards ceremony was being held. “Thank you for agreeing to come,” you told him quietly after a few moments, a fondness in your tone that was unmistakable.

“Your forever plus one, remember?” George asked softly with a smile on his lips. You started referring to him as that a few weeks prior when you first invited him, and every time you did it made George’s heart flutter. 

During the ceremony, which was quite long-winded as the professors droned on about different fundraising events planned in order to put on the best shows possible in the coming year, George ended up entertaining the small table the two of you sat at with quiet jokes and “sleight of hand” magic with some of the Muggle magic trick items from the shop. 

When it was time for awards, George of course cheered the loudest when you got the award for “Most Dedicated Performer.” When you arrived back at the table with the small trophy in hand, George kissed you deeply before congratulating you on the award. 

Later that evening, a mid-sized group of your theatre company went to a nearby pub to celebrate the end of a successful year. The group had faces from all across the university’s specialties of performance, from stage coordinators, to dancers, to those who specialised in plays, then of course the musical theatre students. Once the group all settled down around a few tables they had mashed together, one older student raised her glass and called, “Here’s to another wonderful year performing and to many more to come!”

“Hear, hear!” the group called back, raising their glasses in turn. 

And with that the festivities kicked off! You chatted for a little while with your close friends before you found yourself watching on as George and Matt competed to see who could catch the most peanuts that were being thrown their way in their mouth. As you watched, Jasmine slid up beside you and asked with a bit of a slur to her voice, “Well isn’t your boy toy the life of the party?”

“That’s him,” you replied with a smile, yawning a bit afterward. It had been a very long day and it was already nearing midnight, but the fun at the pub seemed far from over and you didn’t want to be the first one to call it for the night. “Where’s Abbie?” you asked, trying to busy your mind. 

“Believe it or not,” Jasmine said, leaning in close to your ear with a faux serious look on her face, “she’s actually been kissing up on that older boy Thomas all night!” 

“You’re kidding!” you said, your eyes darting around the room, only to find the pair lost in each others’ lips over in a corner of the pub. You laughed quietly before saying, “It’s about time she let loose.”

“Right!!” she exclaimed before stepping, well more so stumbling, off of the tall stool and saying, “I’m going to get another! You need to let loose too girl! The semester is over, it's time to unwind! Get your honey to get you something fruity!”

“Did I hear something about getting something to drink?” came George’s voice as he approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your cheek. 

“If you don’t mind,” you told him as you closed your eyes for a moment and relaxed into his embrace. You stifled a yawn before lowering your voice and asking, “Do you happen to have any wideye potion on you? I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m exhausted but I don’t want to be the first to leave…”

George slipped a hand into the inside of his coat and looked before nodding, telling you, “It looks like I’ve got just enough to keep the two of us up long enough to stay for a while. What drink do you want to mix it with?”

“Pina colada please, I don’t particularly like wideye option, I’d rather not taste it,” you replied with a quiet laugh. 

“You got it,” George told you before departing and ordering both of you drinks from the barkeep. 

George returned with your drink in one hand and a shot of dark liquor in the other for himself. He handed you your drink in which you saw the blue potion swirled in, and told you with a chuckle, “The trick for taking these nasty potions is to get them down as fast as possible.”

“I think the flavour of rum and coconut may work out in my favor. This way then at least it’ll last longer,” you replied in a teasing tone before taking a few sips of the drink. Rather than the bitter taste of the potion, all you tasted was the coconut and pineapple flavour along with something a little sweeter that you attributed to the pub’s spin on the drink. “See, tastes great,” you said with a giggle before taking a few more long sips while giving George a wink. 

A few minutes later while you were chatting with an older girl who majored in musical performance as well, you felt your heart rate begin to increase and felt like someone had turned on the heat in the pub. So to combat the heat, you began sipping more on the frozen drink you had in hand, taking it down nearly to its last dregs before you finished up your conversation with the girl. While the advice you had been given to further improve your performance had been solid, some of it had gone in one ear and out the other as you concentrated on cooling your body temperature. 

When you were alone at the table again, George came up behind you and moved your hair out of the way before beginning to gently kiss your neck, asking, “Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

“M-maybe a few times,” you replied, letting out a breathy sigh as you relaxed into his arms. You laughed lightly before asking, “What’s gotten into you, love?”

“My bloody amazing fiancée wearing a dress that has been driving me crazy all night…” he whispered. 

As he said this, he splayed his hands out over your barely covered thighs and began massaging them gently. The motion seemed to ease some of the heat in your body, but at that exact moment you could practically feel the transfer of heat from your body to right between your thighs. “F-feels good…” you mumbled as you tilted your head to allow George easier access to your neck as he began gently sucking love bites into the sensitive skin. 

“Need to get you home,” George told you as he took a short break from his assault on your neck. “Need to have you,” he mumbled in your ear, sending a jolt of electricity directly to your core. As you shifted on the barstool in order to ease some of the tension between your thighs, your bottom brushed against George who seemed about as aroused as you were at the moment. At the brief contact, something almost like a growl rumbled out of George’s chest before he grunted out, “Don’t know if I can wait that long though, darling…”

“Then let’s go,” you replied, grabbing his hand as you jumped off the barstool, nearly toppling over in the process. George took the opportunity to grab your body and hold you close in order to hide his now painfully hard erection from the rest of your classmates as you called your goodbyes for the night. 

You two couldn’t even get more than a few blocks closer to the Leaky Cauldron before George was slamming his lips onto yours, his hands exploring your body as he pulled you into a darkened alleyway. “I can’t wait,” George told you.

 When he did, he pulled out his wand and began casting charms on the area, one you didn’t recognize with the incantation cave immicum and one that you remembered as the same one he cast on your door the night he revealed he was a wizard to you. The one that concealed sound within an area. “G-George, dear, what are you-?”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you felt George lift one of your legs and hook it around him, his fingers sliding up your thigh and rubbing over your clothed and sensitive clit. When you relaxed at the touch and opened your legs the slightest bit more, George slid your knickers aside and pushed two fingers into your slick cunt, telling you, “I cast that charm because I know you can’t keep quiet when I have my way with you, darling. And right now,” he began moving his fingers at a rapid pace, “I plan on finishing you off in this alleyway.”

“Oh God, yes,” you whimpered, the leg holding you upright already starting to give way as the pleasure mounted and made your joints feel like jelly. The heat in your body seemed to continue to lower as he worked you up on his fingers, and without even consciously thinking about it, your hand snaked its way down to begin gently rubbing over the strained tent in George’s slacks. “These are in the way… I assume…mmm-! Privacy charm? N-No one can see us? Or hear us?” you asked, your sentences clipped as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, your orgasm building faster than you anticipated, likely due to the setting.

“Correct,” George grunted as he thrust his hips into your hand. 

“Then I’m getting you off too, mister,” you told him as you managed to unbutton and unzip his trousers with one deft hand. 

As you freed his length from its confines, George let out a satisfied sigh as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, muttering, “Bloody hell…” as you began to pump him in your hand after lubricating it with spit. 

The feeling of pleasuring him along with the sounds of George’s quiet grunts and groans pushed you over the edge after a few more strokes of his fingers. The feeling of pleasure took over your whole body, every single nerve feeling as if it was on fire as your orgasm rocked you. Even though he had the charms cast over the area, George greedily captured the sounds you made with his own mouth, savouring the sweet noises as he continued pumping his fingers into your pulsing cunt, itching to make you have another. The whimpers that accompanied your overstimulation were what sent George over the edge, a louder than he intended moan leaving his mouth in response his unexpected release. 

“That…was amazing…” George breathed, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you both caught your breath. 

“Exhilarating,” you panted back, your chest still heaving as you lowered your leg from around his waist. “I think we should get going though before we get caught…”

“Right,” George said as he hiked his trousers up over his semi-hard member. 

You proceeded to get ever closer to the Leaky Cauldron, but as you neared, you began to feel that same heat begin creeping into your body as your heart rate began to rise once more. As you passed through the pub and into the back area where you would traverse into Diagon Alley, you couldn’t help but glance down at George’s nearly fully erect member straining at his trousers, leaning up to kiss him deeply and grazing your fingers over him as you whispered, “George, I-I still need you… Bad. Your fingers weren’t enough… I feel this… heat inside. Won’t leave unless you’re touching me… Please…”

“We’re almost there,” George told you, his hands shaking as he tapped the correct bricks with his wand. 

The short walk to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes felt like an eternity, but once you entered the shop and George confirmed that Fred was out for the night in Hogsmeade talking business with Bilton Blimes, you dropped down to your knees and began undoing his trousers once more. He stuttered out your name in shock at your bold actions. “We’re- we’re still-” George started to say as his breath began to come in sharp. “In the shop,” he finished, a sigh leaving his lips as you began teasing him with your tongue, the heat from his own body transferring to his stiff member. 

“Can’t wait,” you told him, swallowing hard before taking him into your mouth. 

George felt his whole body relax in response to your mouth around him but he couldn’t help but bring his hand to your hair, gently tugging as you worked him up again just right. The pulling of your hair elicited a moan from you that reverberated around George's cock, nearly causing his knees to give way. “So good…” he whispered, his chest heaving as he rapidly approached his second climax. “That pretty mouth… Know what you’re doing… Bloody hell…”

When you smirked around him in response and hollowed out your cheeks with a soft groan leaving your throat was exactly when George lost it. As he spilled into your mouth, a series of curse words left him that you had never heard him utter and they filled you with a sense of pride as you swallowed down everything he gave you before standing back up on unsteady legs. “You like that?” you asked teasingly as you pecked him on the lips. 

“I did, but it’s your turn now,” he told you as he lifted you into his arms after redoing his trousers, carrying you up the staircase that would take you to the flat above. As he passed through the dining area, George felt that burning desire building again and he couldn’t take the heat any longer. Laying you down on the dining table was the only gentle part of the next few moments as George found himself accidentally ripping off your knickers in his haste to taste you. 

Before you could even process what was happening, George’s mouth was on you, attacking your sensitive clit with his lips and tongue. “Ahh, shit!” you whimpered as your hands instinctively went to his hair, tugging gently to encourage his ministrations. 

“Taste so good, darling,” George told you when he took a few moments’ break, plunging two fingers inside which went in without any resistance. “Come on, give me a second one…” George mumbled as he watched your jaw drop in response to the pleasurable feeling before returning to lapping at your throbbing clit, the pleasure insurmountable from both sensations. 

“Oh my God, George! George!” you cried as you reached your high for the second time that night, your grip on his hair tightening as you fell apart. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came and white filled your vision, causing you to clamp your eyes shut as you moaned and writhed under George's skilled mouth.

“That’s it, easy, easy,” he mumbled against you as he worked you down gently. 

What he didn’t know was that the reverberations of his voice on your most sensitive area only fueled the fire raging inside of you and the heat from before returned with a vengeance. “George, I-I still…” you whispered, a pained groan leaving your throat as you sat up and clawed at your dress, desperate for some relief from the heat. 

With the slightest bit of relief still flooding his mind, George took in your desperate state and began to question what had gotten into the both of you… You had never done anything of this nature in public before, not in the shop, let alone in a London alleyway! “One second…” George told you as he shed his coat from his body. 

“But Georgie, I-” you replied as you began to unbutton his dress shirt. “I need you… I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but… Please…”

Right as you said this, George fished something out of a pocket in his coat and at the sight he sighed and closed his eyes, cursing quietly. “Darling, I’m so sorry, this is because of the effects of a new experimental potion… I-I thought I pulled out the correct one earlier, but…” he showed you the vial that had the colours blue and green swirling inside, rather than just the blue that was mixed into the drinks at the pub. 

“W-what kind of potion?”

“It was a new love potion we started working on recently. The intended effects were affection, but… Maybe we were heavy handed with an ingredient and-”

“Affection turned to uncontrolled lust,” you finished, a quiet laugh leaving your lips as you looked down at your hands that had gotten to the last button of George’s shirt. 

A soft smile made its way onto George’s lips that faltered as he told you, “We haven’t brewed an antidote yet…” His thoughts raced through what that could mean and he spoke aloud as he went through them. “Hands didn’t seem to work to stave off the potion’s effects and neither did our mouths… Well… It worked well enough for me because I have a clearer mind than I did before- Wait.”

“What?” you asked, unable to control yourself as you began kissing at George’s exposed skin. 

“My mind became less clouded when I finished inside your body,” he glanced down at his trousers which were starting to become tented once again at your desperate touch and finished with, “but it’s starting to take effect again. And you… your body is still craving me.”

“Are you saying that means-?” you asked, your heart jolting at the implications of the statement. Even though your mind was clouded not only by the potion but the liquor coursing through your veins, you still understood what George was saying and it scared you. You two had never had unprotected sex before - you always bought condoms and kept a box in George’s room as well as yours. Even though he revealed that he was a wizard and knew potions and spells that could prevent pregnancy such as coutus interruptus, you were still cautious. You couldn’t have a baby now, not this early in your stage career. 

George’s voice snapped you back into reality as he kissed your cheek, telling you between sloppy kisses, “Unprotected sex, yes.” He pulled away and placed his hands on both of your arms, squeezing gently as he said, “But if you’re not comfortable with that we can wait for the effects to wear off. I just don’t know how long that’ll take. And I don’t want to see you suffering like you are right now…” As he finished his statement, he brushed a piece of stray hair out of your face and felt the heat radiating from your body. 

“Please,” you whispered as you relaxed into his touch.

“Are you sure?” George asked, tilting your chin up toward him as you opened your eyes to gaze into his soft and sincere ones. 

“Do you have any of that morning after potion?” 

“I can brew some when we’re finished. It doesn’t take long and it’ll work as long as you take it within two days,” he told you. 

“Promise?” you asked tentatively as your hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. 

“Well considering Angelina is at Hogwarts and not pregnant right now after the winter break she had with Fred, I think it’s safe to say it works,” he joked with a hint of seriousness in his tone. 

“Okay…” you agreed with a nod as you leaned up to kiss him once more. 

This time though George controlled the pace, guiding you the rest of the way out of your dress and slowing your desperate hands down as you helped him out of his clothes. “I’m gonna treat you right, don’t worry,” he told you as he kicked his trousers and underwear off and lifted you into his arms to take you to his room. 

Once there, George got the two of you into bed and took a deep breath as he asked again, “Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” you replied, your hips bucking up to meet him. You whimpered when you felt his bare member against your core, but desperation for his touch and his love outweighed the fear bubbling in the back of your mind. 

And so George gently thrust into you, the velvet of his aching cock dragging against your walls causing the both of you to let out satisfied sighs as the heat in your bodies once again dissipated into your most sensitive areas. This time though, instead of wantonly trying to get one another off, it was a slow and passionate act of love and desire as George showed you how much he cared for you through his actions. This, combined with the oversensitivity of already having two orgasms brought you to the edge embarrassingly fast. “George, I-I’m close…” you whimpered as you grabbed at the sheets of the bed, wanting to hold on for longer. 

“That’s fine, let go darling,” George told you, his voice low as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, picking up the pace after shifting his hips to try and hit that one spot inside of you that he knew drove you crazy. 

The noise that ripped from your throat when he began hitting that spongy spot filled the room as you abruptly crashed into your third orgasm of the night. George pulled his head back to watch the pleasure contort your face and he smiled as he said, “That’s it, you feel so good… So bloody good…”

As the aftershocks began to run through you and your cunt continued to pulse around George, he felt his orgasm quickly approaching as his pleasure once again neared its peak. “I-I’m gonna-” he grunted as his hips began to stutter into you. Still oversensitive and aching, you moaned George’s name like a prayer before he crashed his lips onto yours, but not before telling you, “I love you, so, so much…”

“I love you too,” you whispered into his lips. In response to the whispered words, George felt a wave of pleasure wash over him as he began to paint your walls with his release, continuing to thrust into you as he worked through his orgasm. 

Within seconds, you felt the heat and desperation leave your body as you relaxed into the bed. As George pulled out and laid beside you, you rested your head on his chest as you both tried to calm your breathing. You lifted one leg to rest on George’s bare thigh and cringed as you felt his release leaking out of your soaked centre. “Do you feel better?” George asked softly as he caressed your hair, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Much,” you replied, your eyes closing as you relaxed further into his embrace. 

“Here, let me…” he said as he sat up slightly, grabbing his wand off of the bedside table and waving it, summoning a clean washcloth from the nearby bathroom. “Auguamenti,” he mumbled, causing water to wet the rag before he cast another spell that warmed it up. Remaining as gentle as he was during sex, George took the rag and began cleaning you up from the mess he made. “Just relax,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your temple as you cringed at the initial touch, utterly sore from the assault of pleasure you had experienced that night. 

Once you were cleaned up and George summoned a couple of cups to hydrate the both of you, he took a sip of the cool water before mumbling, “I’m sorry I messed up with the potion…”

“Hey, don’t apologise, it was an honest mistake,” you told him. A smirk graced your features as you told him, “I mean it resulted in some great sex…”

George chuckled as he pulled you close once more, saying, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a potion we’re going to be selling any time soon…” 

“Maybe keep the recipe though, just in case,” you told him with a wink and giggle that for once left him speechless. 

a/n: i'm not even sorry, this was fun to write lmao!

ps: i wanted to poke fun at the scientific word for the pullout method being "coitus interruptus" so i made it into a spell rather than using the classic fetus deletus

we will be back to our regularly scheduled programming in the next installment which is super angsty so you'll want to hold on for the rollercoaster of emotions coming up in the next few chapters...

as always, likes and comments are appreciated! xo, brooke <3

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss @superduckmilkshake (one has been taken off of the taglist due to not having any age indicators in the profile)

dividers by @firefly-graphics as always!

[dinums]

Secrets and Broken Hearts

-----------------------------

Chapter 1

Thomas Shelby x (Writer) Reader

Ms. (Y/N) Bennett goes around to her normal, everyday life, a happy life with her lover, William Carter. Everything is good. A happy life, yes. Truly, she's happy. Right?

CONFESSION:

To cause a strain in marriage through infidelity, hurt as it is, could there be more?

...

Brumi, around 11 p.m. found drunk, a married man coming out of another woman's home, a place near the heart of the city in London, as his wife heart to him

I confirm, with a heavy heart that should his wife leave him, it would probably be best, sometimes those we love, be it family, jewelries or the pastry shops around town rots from within, bread and blood. Shall the day come?

M.D.

A woman sat snuggly on the couch of her shared flat with her lover, reading a pamphlet. It was her day off. Surely, she could just lounge around without care of the world, right? Her thoughts were interrupted the moment the front door creaked open.

"Will! You're home!"

The woman shouted, running towards her lover with the biggest smile known to earth. It had been days since she last saw him, said he had an important work that needed to be held in London. What does a simple tailor need to go to London for? She thought, though it was interrupted once her said Lover just chuckled, wrapping his arms around her whilst spinning her around.

"God's I missed you"

"As I do, how'd the business go?"

She asked, which made the man put her back on her feet. She tilted her head, waiting for an answer before he let out a cough. Kissing her temple before making his way to the kitchen to grab himself a drink, whiskey she presumed it to be.

"William?"

"Mhm? Oh, yeah. It went well dear, no need to worry your darling head." He reassured her, walking over to sit on the couch before patting the space next to him, signalling for her to sit beside him.

"S'your day off?" He asked, drawing the previous conversation to an end. Walking over to him, she nodded.

"Yep, I had Catherine handle the shop for today since it's Wednesday. Business would be slow anyway." She explained, snuggling close to him on the couch while he nodded in acknowledgement.

William had a shop down in Small Heath. She would help around as he tailored suits. Usually, she would stand as a cashier, help with the numbers, hang suits, and dresses. Though it was a bit inconvenient to own such a store in this smoke polluted town, William believed that everyone should have the chance to wear such clothing if they wanted to. One of the many qualities she loved about him.

The next day came by quickly. After breakfast with William, they both headed out for the shop. William opened the door for her like the gentleman he is, giggling at his actions she walked inside before earning a wink from him.

"Catherine, you're here early, noh?" She smiled at the woman who was currently occupied with hanging the newly tailored suits that were to be picked up.

"Oh! Ms. Bennett and Mr. Carter, what a pleasure to see you both." She said, putting a halt to her actions before making her way to the couple. Catherine May currently works as an apprentice for William. Even though the couple insisted on being called their first names, she would always refuse. In time, the said couple had just let her be.

"Love, why don't you handle the shop for today, hm? I have business with Ms. May over here, I need her assistance with a wealthy client down by the block." William said, which made his lover nod. Giving him a quick kiss before sending him and Catherine off by the front door.

Going over to finish what Catherine was doing before, she made sure everything was up and ready before officially opening the shop for the day.

In the afternoon, she was occupied at the counter when she overheard two women gossiping as they were picking out dresses.

"Have you seen the newest pamphlet given this morning?"

The first woman with blonde hair spoke as her shorter friend then continued

"I haven't got the chance to! I've been caught up with my husband these past few days. After the war, everything seemed to turn for the worse."

As the conversation of the ladies went on, they continued their chatter to Ms. Bennett, after picking out their newfound dresses, ready to pay for them.

"I still wonder how no one has been able to identify this writer..." The shorter one said.

"Writer? You mean 'M.D.' By any chance?" She spoke, which instantly caught the attention of both women.

"You read his stories too, Ms. Bennett?"

"I have only ever heard it," She answered with a smile, which made both women in front of the counter raise their brows in acknowledgement. Giving the two women their dresses in a bag after they paid. They chatted for a bit before they left the store

M.D. the infamous writer going about his day to write gossip around every nook and cranny in this town. Of course, she not only read his stories, she knew them by heart even before he went and published them. M.D. which stood for 'Morris Dawn' is a part of her, after all, her very own secret life. Besides, who would even suspect a nice woman living a double life as a writer? The coppers themselves wouldn't dare touch her, afterall her pamphlets coincedentally gave out information of criminals and thugs alike enough as it is vague. Vague but still there, enough to keep their mouth shuts and not find out who this writer was, after all the writer wasn't doing anything wrong. Her thoughts were completely stopped when she heard the bell of the front door ring, signalling someone had entered the shop. Looking over, she saw who it was. Those three brothers she went to school with. Smiling, she greeted them.

"I'll go get the suits, please wait a moment."

"No need to be so formal, love. S'just us, hm?" The youngest one chuckled, a toothpick between his lips. She just chuckled along before making her way to bring them their suits. She was acquainted with Jon and Arthur, though she could never get a read on their other brother.

"I'd prefer it that way, though." She shrugged, which caused a smirk to be placed on the oldest.

"Would you like to try them on? See if it's tailored to your liking?" She asked the three of them before, which caused Jon to shake his head.

Bidding goodbye, the Shelby's went out the store. Their suits are free of charge, per the request of William. Thinking the lot went away, she began to organise the rack when she heard a coin being placed on the counter. Turning her head, she saw the second oldest. Thomas was looking at her quietly, smoking his cigarette.

"For the trouble." Was all Thomas said before heading out the shop where his brothers waited for him.

[cookies-over-yonder]

close your weary eyes

Adaine has already been worrying about Riz, what with his thousands of clubs and negative hours of sleep, but when she gets a text from him during an AV club meeting he's surprisingly absent from, she's more concerned than ever. Riz: what does a panic attack feel like?

ao3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

title from rises the moon by liana flores

Adaine is sitting on the vacant side of her bed, reading through her textbook when Riz wakes up.

"Mmm, what time is it...?" he mumbles beside her.

"It's almost ten."

"I missed so many fucking clubs. Shit."

"How are you feeling?" Adaine asks, pulling him into a side hug. He melts into it, burying his face in her side.

"Like shit. I don't know what happened. I was on my way to AV and then I just... I don't know."

"Yeah."

"That used to happen to you all the time?"

"Yep. Every day."

"That fucking sucks."

"It did, but I've got meds and therapy now, so it's easier to manage."

Riz is quiet.

"I'm worried about you, you know?" Adaine says, and she feels him tense up. "It's just... you're so stressed. All the time. It can't be healthy. And I know from experience what that's like, and watching you go through something so similar... it scares me, Riz."

She whispers that last part, feeling tears prick at her eyes.

"I—listen, I was fine before, it's just—it's this year—"

"Were you fine before? Or did you just convince yourself you were?"

Riz sits up and looks Adaine in the eyes. "I... don't cry, Adaine, please."

"I'm worried about you!" Adaine sobs. "You barely eat, you barely sleep, you only drink coffee, and I'm worried one day it's all going to catch up to you and you're gonna fall apart. I see you shaking. All the time. I can't tell if it's from coffee or anxiety but my gut tells me it's both! Seeing you break down in there earlier, it scared me. Because how many times is that going to happen when I'm not there?"

"It was just a one-off thing, Adaine! I—I—I'm taking care of myself, I—"

"No, you're not!" she shouts, "You're taking care of your grades, your extra credit, Kristen's campaign, the mystery, and everyone around you, but not yourself, and I'm scared for you!"

"Adaine—"

"It—it's like I'm watching you tear yourself apart and I can't do anything to stop it! That's what it feels like!"

"I'm sorry, okay!? I just, I can't—"

Before Adaine knows it, she's getting up, walking out the room, and shutting the door with a loud slam.

-

Riz doesn't know where he went wrong, but somewhere along the way, he fucked up, and now Adaine is crying in another room, and he's sitting speechless on her bed.

And his head fucking hurts.

Then there's a knock at the door.

"Adaine?" Riz asks.

"It's Fig. Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

Fig comes inside, shuts the door behind her, sets down a plate in front of Riz, and sits beside him on the bed.

The plate has a bit of fruit, a couple slices of pizza, and a couple pain killers. She pulls a water bottle out of her pocket and hands it to him. He takes it wordlessly and downs the painkillers immediately.

"Adaine is fine, she just needed a second to cool down. Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

She rests a hand on his knee, and the way she looks at him gives him a sense of anxiety he can't quite pinpoint.

"How much did Adaine tell you?"

"She just said you had a hard day, and she's worried about you. I don't know anything else, but... well..."

Riz stares at the plate. His stomach hurts. He skipped breakfast this morning—not hungry and not enough time—and had a club meeting during lunch, and then passed out before he even got here.

So why does it feel so hard to just eat what's right in front of him?

"Riz, you're shaking."

"I think I freaked Adaine out, Fig," he says, getting off the bed to pace.

"She's just worried about you, man. Honestly, I am too. What even happened?"

"Adaine thinks I'm not taking care of myself," he says as he paces, his tail flicking back and forth.

"Are you?" Fig asks, and Riz bites down the urge to hiss at her incredulous tone.

"I am!" he shouts, sucking in a breath. And another. And another.

It's hard to breathe.

No. This isn't going to happen twice in one day.

"Riz, come sit down," Fig says, guiding him back to the bed by the shoulders. He does so without protest, and sits cross-legged on the bed, holding onto his ankles.

"S—suh—sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me," he stutters, taking in shaky breath after shaky breath.

"I think you're just stressed," Fig says, rubbing his back.

"I'm always stressed, though."

"But you're like, really stressed."

Riz curls in on himself a little and shuts his eyes, feeling tears start to fall again.

"It's okay, Riz," Fig says, "You should eat. It might make you feel better."

"'M not hungry."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday."

"Riz!"

"What?"

"Open your mouth."

He does, with his eyes still closed. Maybe it's a bad idea, but he's too exhausted to care.

And then Fig is shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth.

"Bite."

He does.

"Chew."

He does.

"Swallow."

He does.

"Good."

"Don't you have anything better to do than feed me?" Riz asks. He barely even tasted it.

"Nope!"

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend, and I love you, and I want you to be okay."

Riz thinks back to the note that "Gorgug" left him. In the emotions of the moment he hadn't realized, but when he looked at it again, he recognized Fig's handwriting right away.

He confronted her about it, and she'd since started leaving notes signed by her, on his locker, in his backpack, at his desk...

Sometimes, Riz has so much love for everyone around him that he doesn't know what to do with himself.

And sometimes, when that love is returned, he feels even more lost.

Because love means worry. Love means checking in. Love means making sure you're sleeping. Love means making sure you're eating. Love means tearing yourself apart to help your friends, but it also means helplessly watching your friend tear himself apart, Riz supposes.

He doesn't know what to do.

"I love you too, Fig," he whispers, and she's hugging him, and he's crying again.

He eats some more pizza, not saying much else and just listening to Fig ramble about her songwriting, and Ayda, and songwriting about Ayda until her phone buzzes. She checks it.

"Mm, I'm gonna head back. You gonna be okay?"

He nods.

And she's gone.

And there's another knock.

And Adaine steps in.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," she says. Her face is red and puffy. "It's just, I'm just—"

"It's okay," he says, standing up to face her.

"I just, I get so worried—"

"I know. I know. But I—I'm okay. Um... I slept, remember? And I've been eating, see?" he says, gesturing toward the plate of half eaten food.

"Why are you in so many clubs? You're smart enough to know that you're overworking yourself. I know you are."

"Uh—"

Riz swallows.

"I—I don't—uh—"

"Never mind, let's talk about that another day," she says, sparing him, and summoning Boggy a second later for him to hold. "Do you want to watch a movie? With the others, I mean. Unless you want to watch it with just me, or if you don't want to. Or if you just want to watch a movie by yourself!"

"I'll watch a movie with everyone," Riz says, giving her a weak smile, and watching her sigh in relief.

And so the night continues with Riz curled up on the couch between Adaine and Fig, watching some movie he doesn't understand and he's too tired to parse, and he still feels that baseline of tension he always has, but at least he's got love.

He'll always have that.

And he closes his weary eyes.

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 6

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. ------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

Feel free to read this on AO3 if it is more comfortable for you due to its length. I only ask to support me with a like and reblog if you enjoy my work. ☺️

Tagging: @nerium21

Author's note: Yep, you guessed it; another super long chapter. This one also includes some very detailed smut, which I had to split because otherwise the chapter would become gigantic. You can totally expect the continuation in the next update.

Being with Sanji was everything you could wish for, even though you had to make do with secret moments to steal kisses away from Zeff and the rest of the crew. However, when your deepest desires began to emerge, you discovered that Sanji was even more hesitant than you.

You went to bed with Sanji's taste lingering on your lips, his warmth making your entire body tremble and tingle, to the point that falling asleep felt like an impossible endeavor.

That kiss was the most remarkable and satisfying one you had ever shared with a man. It lasted so long that the muscles around your mouth began to ache, and even your jaw felt strained and exhausted. Neither of you could find the will to pull away. Whenever you tried to step back, your feet remained firmly planted. His lips were irresistible, and the way he held you—strong yet gentle—made your heart swell with emotion the entire time.

Ultimately, it was Sanji who managed to regain his composure. You needed to rest, and both of you understood that if you had continued, you might have crossed a forbidden line—one that you secretly desired but weren't ready to face with him at the time.

Your mind swirled with thoughts as you grappled with anxieties about the day ahead. How could you possibly conceal it from everyone, particularly Zeff, who always had his watchful eyes on you? You were lucky he didn’t catch you in the act; otherwise, you might have dealt with the repercussions, ears pulled in reprimand.

In reality, Sanji appeared just as excited as you were. The last peck he gave you before you left the kitchen was the most reassuring sign you could have hoped for. You contemplated whether this indicated a significant change in your relationship, pondering if labeling him as your boyfriend was too forward or merely acknowledged the truth of the current situation. You were cautious not to appear overly clingy or presumptuous, uncertain if he even harbored enough affection to envision you as a life partner. Would he even be able to resist flirting with any other attractive girl who walked into the Baratie? The mere thought of him offering that same attention to someone else made your stomach churn.

The situation was complex and demanded some introspection. Still, no matter what the future had in store, you were resolved not to let your insecurities hinder you again. At last, you had decided to let go and wholeheartedly embrace the growing affection you felt for the cook. You had no intention of retreating into your shell and pretending it never occurred.

You longed for more. You craved more.

And so, you drifted off to sleep with a smile spreading across your face, Sanji's image etched into your mind.

As dawn broke, your eyes opened instinctively, adjusting to the soft light filtering through the cabin window. You yawned, stretched your arms and legs, and slipped off the mattress, still groggy from sleep.

Your heart pounded as memories of the previous night flooded back like a cold shower. On one hand, you were thrilled at the prospect of seeing Sanji again, while another part tempted you to feign illness to skip work altogether.

Fortunately, you were wise enough to see that such an excuse would have been both childish and absurd. Regardless of how things would turn out from that point on, you were confident in your ability to move forward with your head held high, without retreating or running away. After all, a lifetime of being assertive and vulnerable had taught you important lessons.

You quickly freshened up, applied some flattering makeup, and ensured you looked your absolute best. Aware of Sanji's admiration for beauty, you wanted to give him every reason to notice you (and only you) above the other women vying for his attention. Those ladies better be prepared, because you weren't going to let them win.

As you stepped out of your cabin, the clinking of cups, glasses, and dishes from the kitchen reached your ears. The atmosphere was serene, marking one of the most relaxing moments of the day. You descended the stairs, straightened the buttons on your uniform, and tucked a few loose strands of hair away. Just as you were about to enter the dining room to set the tables and tidy up, someone gently grasped your hand and led you into a secluded area.

Sanji looked at you with a captivating glint in his eyes. A joyful smile formed on his lips as his arms wrapped around your back the moment you leaned into his chest. Surprise and joy surged through you, causing your shoulders to relax as you melted into his embrace.

"Good morning, love," he murmured, gently grazing his nose against yours.

"Hey, good morning," You responded with a beaming expression. "What are you doing?”

"Taking every chance to have you all to myself."

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Then we should probably hurry, we don’t have much time.”

“It will be enough.”

There was no hesitation, shyness, or playful teasing. His lips met yours with a tender, slow, and innocent touch, something that was barely there but electrifying nonetheless. His familiar scent enveloped you, and the hair falling over his left eye tickled your cheek delightfully.

His hands tenderly cradled your face, his thumbs gently stroking your skin. Your fingers threaded through his silky hair as his lips pressed firmly against yours. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entry, which you eagerly granted. The experience was extraordinary—a perfect way to kickstart your day as you savored his taste and the warmth of his kiss.

When he finally pulled back, a wet sound signaled your separation, and Sanji let out a satisfied sigh. "I could kiss you all day.”

"Wouldn’t that get tiring though?”

He lifted your hand to his lips and placed a gentle peck on your knuckles. "It would be so worth it, my lovely. I can't bear the thought of waiting until tonight.”

His ardor to be with you was invigorating. Regrettably, you were not permitted to indulge in it.

"We need to behave. You don't want to be kicked back to waiting tables, and who knows what Zeff would do to punish me.”

"You're a woman; he wouldn't do anything to you.”

"So the blame would fall solely on you? That's all the more reason to avoid it."

Despite your best efforts, Sanji's arms found their way around your waist once more, pressing you against the wooden wall as your back collided with it. His mouth found yours again, grazing your bottom lip, as your breaths mingled in a sweet, intimate dance.

"I'd be a waiter for a month straigh

t if it meant I could have another kiss from you.”

How could his smooth words and leg-shaking voice resonate from his chest all the way to the depths of your core?

"You can have all the kisses you want," you whispered. "As long as you don't seek them somewhere else.”

You threw out the bait almost impulsively and immediately regretted your boldness. However, Sanji didn't seem offended in the slightest; his smile only broadened at your remark.

"How could I ever do that when I have the most beautiful and perfect woman right here in front of me?”

Your cheeks flushed, and his words sent a jolt straight to your heart. "Right. Why should you?”

"I mean it," Sanji continued, his eyes locking onto yours with such passion that it made your breath catch.

As you stood there, emotions churning within, a mix of excitement and vulnerability cascaded over you. He gave you another kiss before you could respond, making your entire world tumble over and collapse. His tongue ventured into your mouth with a restrained hunger, sending shivers down your spine through deliberate, sensual movements. His free hand traced along your hips, drawing you closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

His lips descended, leaving a path of soft, open-mouthed kisses from your jawline to your neck. It felt unbelievably amazing and intensely hot, exactly the type of contact you had been waiting for. The euphoria, the taste of his saliva, the heat surrounding you. It had been so long since you experienced anything like that, and none of your past encounters could compare to what he embodied.

He was unlike anyone or anything you could ever imagine. It felt utterly perilous.

As spectacular as it was, you couldn't allow yourself to get lost in it. Every passing second heightened the risk of being discovered by your team, and that was neither the time nor the place to explain why you were making out just steps away from the kitchen.

Moreover, you questioned whether your self-control would hold if things progressed any further. Truthfully, you were skeptical.

"Sanji, we... we need to get to work.”

He hummed against your skin, lingering a bit longer before returning to your lips. Finally, albeit reluctantly, he released you.

"Ah, I think we have a problem," he said, amusement in his voice. "Your cheeks are a little red.”

“Wait, what??”

You instinctively lifted your hands to your face, feeling the warmth radiating from it. You muttered a curse under your breath, pressing yourself against the partition, as if you wished to disappear into it.

In contrast, Sanji seemed unbothered by your predicament. He chuckled and rubbed your back as you buried your face in his chest, clearly entertained by your attempts to conceal your spontaneous responses.

"It's not funny," you retorted like an offended child.

"I'm sorry, love. I got carried away for a moment there.”

"…I never said I didn't like it.”

Moved by your heartfelt and courageous words, Sanji pulled you into another strong hold. "What am I going to do with you? You're so adorable I could eat you up.”

"Just great. Now you're making it worse.”

He seemed to be having the time of his life, completely at ease and treating you like the most cherished person in the world. He paused, gently stroking your cheeks, giving you a moment to unwind and steady your racing heart.

Finally, as your heartbeat steadied and your skin cooled, you emerged from your hiding place with Sanji’s fingers still lightly touching yours. While he made his way to the kitchen, you took a different route to the dining hall. The tables were only partially returned to their original positions, still looking barren and unready, requiring your meticulous care and attention.

Parting from him with a knowing glance was even more difficult than you had expected. As it turned out, you simply couldn't get enough of him anymore.

Even though he was close by during the entire shift, those few inches felt like an insurmountable distance. Minutes stretched into hours, and the hours dragged on, feeling as heavy and excruciatingly long as an entire week.

Fortunately, your first day as Sanji’s lover went off without a hitch. The well-known connection the two of you had formed played to your advantage; his customary caring and flirtatious demeanor towards you raised no eyebrows among your colleagues or Zeff. Nevertheless, restraining your desires throughout your work was sheer torture. Every time you were near him, the temptation to cast aside your uniform, kiss him, and whisk him away was practically irresistible.

That night, the times you nearly lost control with each other were innumerable. His fingers played with the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly to feel you against him. Your hands roamed up and down his chest, drifting dangerously close to the edge of his trousers. No words were exchanged, only smiles, joyful grins, and swallowed breaths to contain the agonizing actions you both longed to savor, waiting for a moment that didn’t feel so rushed.

Mari’s hand slapped her forehead in a defeated facepalm, the sound echoing through the Snail Phone. The reproach that followed was entirely expected, leaving you with no choice but to nod silently as she spoke.

“I swear, I'd give anything to spend just one day inside your head,” she said. “What were you thinking? He was right there in your bed, completely at your mercy. He wouldn't have refused if you had made a move.”

“I know, it’s just….”

"Let me guess, you prefer to take things slowly."

“Yeah.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled you finally initiated that kiss. I just don’t see why sleeping together at this point would be a bad idea. You’ve been working alongside him for weeks.”

You exhaled deeply and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Honestly? Because I really think he might be the right one.”

“...Oh.”

“Do you think I’m delusional?”

She laughed softly. “No, Y/N, I’m just surprised. I thought you were worried that he might not be serious.”

“Right. My statements are pretty contradictory, I know.”

"To be fair, you also feared that he wouldn't reciprocate your advances to that degree, and that his flirting was actually just a form of kindness, a game he wasn't interested in taking further."

“True.”

“But now, you know that wasn’t the case. To me, it seemed like he really had a difficult time pulling away from you.”

"It was probably the opposite, but... you get the idea."

After a brief pause, she kept the conversation going. "Like I've said before, this is your life. Only you can determine what's best. If you need more time before taking such a big step, then take it."

You smiled. “Thank you Mari.”

“Just let me ask you one thing.”

Uh oh.

"Considering how heated things became in bed, how did he manage to leave under those circumstances?"

“Well, he just… did?”

“Yes, but how?”

“What do you mean by ‘how’? He got up and walked away.”

She cleared her throat ominously. “So, he didn’t have…. you know…”

"Mari, what exactly are you implying?"

Somehow, you foresaw the direction the dialogue was taking, and in retrospect, you should have let it go.

“Jeez, how can you be so oblivious? I’m asking if he got hard, duh!”

As a result, you almost choked on your own breath. “Mari!!! What the hell?!”

"What? Are you saying he managed to avoid it? That would require an incredible amount of self-control. Honestly, I'd find it quite offensive."

“No! I mean, I don’t know.”

“You mean you didn’t even look?”

“Of course not!”

“Ugh, seriously. You’re so hopeless.”

You placed a hand over your mouth and spoke in a barely audible whisper. “Do we seriously have to talk about it?”

"Why not? Men talk about this stuff all the time. And as your best friend, I'm genuinely curious."

You scowled. "As if I'd tell you either way."

“Rude.”

“I’m not being rude. I just don’t think it’s fair. How would you feel if the man you were interested in went around talking about your womanhood?”

"I’d be quite flattered. After all, the way to my heart is through my vagin-"

“Mari!!!”

She erupted in boisterous laughter, wheezing and struggling to catch her breath. You heard something topple over, and her voice straining from the effort. "S-Sorry! You know I love teasing you."

You looked upward, rolling your eyes. “Yes. Could you not?”

“Okay, okay. My bad.”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “Thanks for keeping me company. You should all come visit me on my day off.”

"That would be wonderful. The guys can't stop talking about you."

“Really?”

“They miss you, Y/N. And so do I.”

"Aww, I miss you all too. Honestly, you’re my only regret."

You had adapted to your new routine at the Baratie, but the loneliness during your free moments was a persistent downside. As the saying goes, you cannot have it all.

“Well. Don’t you even think about coming back just for us.”

“I love you, but I have no intention of returning anytime soon.”

"Good. The old you wouldn't have even found the courage to leave, so this is a significant step forward."

And she was right. You had spent so much time trying to please your family and everyone they brought into your life that you lost sight of your own dreams. But from the moment you first walked into that restaurant, it felt like you had been reborn. You had an epiphany, quite literally, emerging from a state of comatose subservience.

It was Sanji who sparked your awakening. He instilled in you a newfound belief in yourself and gave you the courage to break free from your chains.

And just like that, the caged bird that loved to sing found its freedom.

Unfortunately, securing a private moment with him away from the kitchen was more troublesome than you had planned. On some nights, Sanji prolonged his stay under the guise of taste-testing, only to end up with you pressed against the counter, his tongue entwined with yours. You reveled in the excitement, but the ever-present risk of being caught loomed, with others potentially noticing a change between the two of you. There was always a nagging worry that Patty or the head chef might walk in at the most inconvenient moment.

For days, you artfully avoided them, finding refuge in the hidden corners of the Baratie or sipping a drink on the starlit balconies. Every instant in his company was extraordinary, and you savored each second, your shoulders occasionally touching as you exchanged heartfelt anecdotes. Sanji often recounted tales from his childhood, emphasizing the humorous incidents he experienced under Zeff’s care. Having lived most of your life under the control of others, with decisions made on your behalf, you found yourself with few stories of your own to tell. Nevertheless, Sanji was always understanding and loving, showing sincere interest in your friends and anything that wouldn't remind you of your family.

When his fingers met yours, enveloping your hand in the most comforting grasp, you realized you needed nothing more. It was so simple—just the touch of his skin or a smile from him, and your entire world instantly lit up.

You secretly longed to explore the ocean with him one day, perhaps even in search of the All Blue together. You hadn't yet discovered a new dream to pursue, because all you wanted was right there beside you.

Your secret rendezvous continued for quite some time, evolving into an essential ritual for both of you. It was a thrilling adventure, a mission to remain unnoticed. Every kiss felt enchanting, and your cuddling grew more assured and daring with every passing day. As long as you remained dedicated to your work and kept your emotions in check, no one had any grounds for criticism. In fact, Sanji's presence seemed to enhance your efficiency, leaving you thoroughly pleased with your job.

He became your confidant and anchor. His cheerful spirit, playful smiles, and secret touches meant solely for you rejuvenated your energy and further bolstered your confidence.

Saying goodbye to him every night was the hardest part of your day. Sanji never imposed on you, never asked for more than what you freely offered, and never crossed boundaries, though he often came close enough to make you consider breaking them.

However, you should have known there was only so much you could do to hold back your physical desires, and that eventually, all that you had would no longer suffice to fulfill them.

One day, you and Sanji were assigned the task of managing the storage inventory. Although it was one of the most tedious duties, it provided a rare opportunity to be alone together at work without needing an excuse. Resisting your natural impulses was a true test of endurance, but despite a few occasional kisses and the usual banter, you both completed your lists diligently and without any improper distractions.

It was only after setting the notebooks aside and leaning against the wall together that things started to escalate.

Again, it began innocently enough—a gentle touch of your hand as he rested his head on your shoulder. You allowed it, softly swirling your thumb over his knuckles and tracing the contours of his silver ring. You kissed his forehead, your free hand gliding along his forearm, where his rolled-up sleeves exposed his skin up to the elbow—his muscles, his tendons.

Your jackets lay draped over a nearby chair, giving you more freedom to move around the room. Inevitably, that brought you closer, leading to more intimate contact between your bodies.

Sanji looked deeply into your eyes, straightening his posture and tightening his hold. His gaze was magnetic, his pupils dilated, but his smile never wavered. He left you breathless, brushing his nose against yours in an affectionate gesture before claiming your lips in another kiss.

"I don't know what to do with myself," he confessed, caressing your cheek and tucking your hair behind your ear. "You're so beautiful I could shout it from the rooftops."

Your eyes dropped as a shy smile tugged at your lips. "You're exaggerating."

“I’m not, my lovely. Every night, the moon envies your beauty.”

His words, delivered with the sweetest tone, were the most sincere you could ever hope to hear.

His eyes shimmered with admiration and tenderness. "I’m the luckiest man in all the seas to have you by my side. You’re the most incredible woman I have ever met in my entire life.”

Your family insisted that you were unworthy of love, and over time, you came to believe it, thinking it was something you could never attain or truly deserve. He had twisted everything you once held as true, exposing it all as one enormous lie.

Driven by urgency, you pressed your lips to his once more, clutching the lapels of his shirt and squeezing your eyes shut. The cook responded immediately, cupping your face—a motion you couldn't get enough of—with one hand slowly trailing down to the sensitive skin of your neck.

The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and all-encompassing, leaving you both breathless and hungering for more. Enveloped in the sensation of his mouth and the familiar, delicious taste of tobacco, spices and vanilla, you scarcely noticed his hand slipping lower, pausing slightly before coming to rest on your covered breast.

For a moment, you remained still, enjoying the contact and secretly hoping it would last longer. But as soon as it continued, delicately spreading around your mound with a tentative squeeze, familiar alarm bells went off in your head.

Your desire for him was undeniable. Yet, no matter how strong your growing need, a storage room was far from the ideal setting you had envisioned for your first time together.

Reluctantly, you slowed your pace and gently moved his hand away, signaling him to pull back. Panting and at a loss for words, Sanji stared at you with eyes full of unfulfilled craving.

His eyes averted, a sudden wave of embarrassment overcame him. He jolted to his feet, touching the back of his head as he turned his body away from you.

"I'm really sorry, love. I shouldn’t have done that."

If only he had known that stopping was the one thing you didn't want.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, standing up and placing a comforting hand on his back. “I just don’t feel safe here. We should return.”

Sanji swept his hair aside, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. “You’re right, we should.”

Seeing him so guilt-ridden and defeated hit you hard. You knew it was necessary to avoid future regret, but being so close, so ready for it to become more, now left you feeling completely downhearted. You picked up the notebook filled with inventory notes, reached for your jacket, and put it on as if it weighed a ton of bricks.

Sanji looked away the instant your eyes met his. Shame flooded him as he struggled with the realization that he had lost control and betrayed the principles that had been ingrained in him since childhood. The notion that he might have initiated something you didn't want was a severe blow to his pride.

Yet, he couldn't have been more mistaken.

"Sanji," you whispered, moving nearer to him. "You have nothing to apologize for, I promise.”

You sensed him tense under your touch, but when you wrapped your fingers around his in an encouraging hold from behind, he relaxed with relief.

“I’ll join you in a moment. There's something I need to look into.”

After thoroughly searching the storage room, you assumed he needed some time alone to gather himself from the built-up tension. And so, without questioning him, you kissed the back of his shoulder and left with a heavy heart, silently promising to continue where you left off another time.

Because you needed him. You wanted to be explored, tantalizingly stimulated, and lifted to the highest star you could ever reach.

You simply couldn't bear to wait any longer. That much was clear.

The storage room was oppressively hot, challenging Sanji's physical stamina. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, desperate for air, as his heart raced wildly and pounded against his chest.

What truly kept him unmoved was the unmistakable anticipation straining against his pants, which he successfully maintained hidden from you. He was already ashamed of his behavior and couldn't endure the idea of adding more to his mortification.

How could this have happened? He was taught to view women as the most delicate flowers, deserving of utmost respect regardless of their character or background. Despite your kindness and understanding, the mere fact that he touched you so intimately without your consent was enough for him to harshly condemn himself.

And there he was now, staring in disbelief at his intense, throbbing arousal.

Sanji desperately tried to steady his heartbeat, resting against the storage shelves in a futile attempt to regain his composure. Every second felt like an eternity as his mind spun with conflicting desires and responsibilities.

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, making an effort to divert his mind from the stifling heat and his persistent erection. Thoughts of you, with your wonderful smile and angelic touch, only intensified his growing excitement. Memories of your lips on his and the sensation of your body pressed against him caused an exhilarating rush through his veins, kindling a deep warmth in his belly.

"Get it together, man," he murmured, raking a hand through his hair.

The process was excruciatingly slow. His arousal continued, pulsing and demanding a release he refused to grant. The temptation was overpowering, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He resisted the urge, staying firm and resolute, not daring to grasp it for even a moment of gratification.

It required considerable effort, self-reproach, and mental affirmations for him to finally quell it.

To Sanji, you were a precious jewel—one he wanted to protect and never part from. No matter how his body reacted, he wouldn't let his primal instincts override his judgment again. Not without your explicit permission.

Eventually, with a final exhalation, Sanji straightened himself, smoothing down his shirt and adjusting his tie. The composed, professional stance he was expected to maintain began to reassert itself, though it was a thin veneer over a tumultuous sea of emotions.

When Sanji returned, his usual confident demeanor was intact, but you could still detect a subtle hint of nervousness that only you seemed to notice around the kitchen.

He wasn't avoiding you—still joking and smiling—but he was moving away a bit too quickly, as if the fear of having offended you was keeping him from staying close.

You went to great lengths to include him and engage in normal conversation, as there was no reason for any resentment on your part. It pained you to see him so troubled, especially since, in your eyes, Sanji's actions were entirely natural and not inappropriate.

If only you were in a more private setting, your mind would wander to all the things he could do with his hands and tongue. That gentle squeeze on your breasts was enough to imagine more—him moving further, undressing you, and caressing your bare skin directly.

No, you couldn't let him blame himself for something that affected you so profoundly.

As you drew closer, organizing his cooking station and providing the needed ingredients, Sanji's tension slowly melted away. A soft touch on his hand, a tender brush of fingers along his back or arms as you walked by, the sound of your joyous laughter, the lightness in your voice—all these gestures brought him a sense of calm and silently affirmed your complete comfort.

Or so you thought.

As the kitchen cleared out and your colleagues departed one by one, you eagerly anticipated the moment you would finally be alone together again. His steady gaze followed your every move, and you couldn't help but smile at the attention, wishing it would never cease.

The moment you recognized that things wouldn't go as planned, you felt completely devastated.

Inevitably, Sanji’s creative freedom had backfired, prompting Zeff to demand an explanation for the new, unapproved dessert he had felt inspired to create again without his supervision. Feelings were already running high, and the discussion quickly turned into a heated debate filled with insults and criticisms. It didn't take long for you to understand the seriousness of the situation, and Zeff kindly suggested that you retire for the night.

In other words, your opportunity to speak with Sanji alone had entirely slipped away.

You had little say in the matter. All you could do was wish them both a good night (as much as it could be, given the circumstances) and shuffle off to your room. Your feet moved heavily along the wooden boards, and a headache pulsed from the tension in your nerves.

With a long, pained sigh, you slumped against the door before collapsing onto the bed, as though you were swimming against the current. You buried your face in the mattress, groaning as your legs shifted restlessly.

It exasperated you to no end. Although you admired and respected Zeff, his harshness toward Sanji often felt a tad excessive. On that particular day, his intervention was especially ill-timed, as Sanji's simmering frustration indicated his emotional turmoil was far from properly resolved.

The prospect of enduring another day without a private conversation with the cook felt unbearable. For a moment, you questioned whether stopping him had been the right choice or if you should have seized the opportunity when it presented itself. The storage room was dim and damp, far from the ideal spot for intimacy. Making love with Sanji was something you had envisioned very differently, and there was too much activity outside for the two of you to act impulsively.

Getting caught with your pants down and his arousal buried inside you was definitely not the way you wanted to lose your job (not that you wanted to lose it in any way). You acted on instinct, fully aware it wasn't the right moment for such a significant step. So why did it feel like you'd made a huge mistake, treating Sanji like a casual fling when he meant so much more to you?

Ever since he touched it, your breast had been pulsing with need, and you found yourself hugging your torso as you curled up in a ball on the bed. He applied only the faintest pressure, just barely cupping it in his hand through your clothes. Yet, for reasons beyond understanding, it felt as though he had done a lot more, causing your nipples to harden against your bra just from the memory.

You shook your head, dispelling the mental images your brain was conjuring. If you closed your eyes and concentrated on the background sounds, you could make out the distant voices of Sanji and Zeff, still engaged in their heated argument with remarkable persistence.

It only lasted a few minutes, with your body teetering between reality and dreams, before you drifted away on a sea of restless thoughts.

You remained like that, fully dressed and lying on your back, your hands resting by your sides for an indeterminate amount of time.

You woke up to the sound of knocking at your door. As your eyes adjusted and the ceiling came into focus, you listened intently. By the time the third, fourth, and fifth knocks reverberated through the room, you realized someone was truly there and not just a figment of your dreams.

You sprang to your feet, strode to the door, and opened it while combing your bed hair. Sanji stood in front of you, his face etched with concern and hesitation. It seemed like he was on the verge of turning away, but the moment he saw you step out of your cabin, his expression melted into a broad, relieved smile.

“I’m sorry love, did I wake you up?”

"It's alright. Would you like to come in?"

"I should probably let you rest."

You laughed softly. "I’m awake now. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't mean it."

You grabbed him by the elbow and promptly pulled him inside, closing the door behind him and locking it to ensure your conversation wouldn’t get disturbed. You were done with any potential or direct interruptions.

Sanji remained silent, hands on his hips, with fatigue written across his features.

“Are you okay?” you inquired, stepping closer.

In response to your question, Sanji shook his head resignedly. "I really made a mess of things today."

"You're not referring to the dessert, are you?"

“Not exactly.”

With a sigh, you sat on the bed and patted the spot beside you, inviting him to join. Sanji obliged, settling beside you, his knee softly touching yours.

"I've said this before, but it looks like it needs repeating: you did nothing wrong today."

“Y/N, you are a sweetheart for trying to cheer me up, but you can be honest with me.”

"I am."

His gaze stayed on you as you spoke, but your words failed to achieve the desired effect. He averted his eyes, looking apprehensive, as he struggled to find the right response.

"You were never treated the way you deserved before. The last thing I want is for you to feel any pressure from me."

"Pressure?"

He swallowed. "I don’t want you to do anything with me that you might not truly want."

Did he honestly believe you didn't find any pleasure in what occurred in the storage room?

"Who said I don’t want that? Because as far as I can recall, I never did."

“Y/N….”

“Sanji, I’m serious. You don’t need to worry about it.”

There was nothing you wanted more than to be with him, and only him, in ways that your mind could barely fathom due to the impropriety of your imagination.

It was ironic that he, of all people, felt so uncertain and afraid. You had always taken his charm and flirtatious nature for granted, assuming it had built up his confidence for moments like these. His fear of destroying what you both had created, and of losing you along with your consideration, reflected your own anxieties before it all started.

If nothing else, it validated what you had been wondering all along: to him, you were undeniably the only one.

You clasped his hand with both of yours, tightening your grip. "There's nothing you could do that would ever push me away."

He remained unsure, his mouth slightly open, but no sound came out.

"What do I need to do to make you believe me? I love everything you do, Sanji. And I genuinely mean everything."

This time, he finally accepted your admission. With a relieved sigh, he exhaled deeply, his fingers gliding over your knuckles. "You're beautiful, intelligent, and have a heart of gold."

Ah, there it was, the exuberant and gallant side of him that you had grown to treasure.

You brought his hand to your lips, kissed his fingers softly, and then rested your chin on them. “Well, we have these things in common too.”

Sanji's face brightened as he pressed his lips together, looking at you with the most genuine, sparly eyes you had ever seen.

He was irresistibly and strikingly handsome. Even though you weren't as vocal about it, you wished he knew that no other man could ever measure up.

You moved forward, meeting him halfway for a sealing kiss. His lips were warm, moist, and delicate, carrying a hint of the fruity dessert he had made when Zeff wasn’t looking. It felt so good that you couldn't bring yourself to break away, the sound of your kisses filling the cabin like a song with a steady rhythm and harmonious melody.

Sanji paused, allowing you both a moment to catch your breath. You giggled, a bit winded, your hands still intertwined.

"Do you have any idea how incredible you are?" he asked.

"You've mentioned that before," you said sincerely. "I don't see myself in such a lofty light, though."

"Oh, my lovely, the old man practically adores you. You outwork all of us put together, and I have to keep an eye on Patty because I'm sure he has a crush on you.”

You arched an eyebrow. "Patty? Interested in me?"

"It's either that, or he enjoys getting under my skin."

“You can’t seriously be jealous of Patty. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Men are powerless in the presence of an extraordinary woman like you.”

You shrugged. “Maybe. But I’ve already found my man.”

Damn. That didn't come out the way you intended. Or did it?

Sanji's focus lingered on your face, lost in contemplation, until a sudden spark of realization illuminated his expression. "Have you?"

At that point, with everything taken into account, denying it was no longer an option.

"Honestly, if it weren't for you, I would have never found the courage to leave my old life behind. To step away from my family and all the expectations they placed on me. I did it all because I wanted to know you, to be with you."

His eyes glowed with adoration.

"You made me feel important and special, more than anyone else ever has—even more than my friends."

“Because you are, Y/N,” he whispered with conviction. “You are far better than all those wretched people who made you think otherwise.”

You nodded. “This is exactly why I like you. Without even knowing me, you already understood.”

He played with your fingers, twirling and caressing them in his grasp. “You looked so sad. I couldn't stand to see you like that.”

In truth, he couldn't bear to see any woman in such pain. But now you knew that what began as mere compassion had evolved into something more significant.

“And now that you’re by my side,” he continued, “even my worst days have become the best moments of my life.”

Your heart was racing so intensely that you feared it might burst from your chest and fall right into his lap.

"What will I do when the day comes that you decide to leave?"

Your breath trembled as you blinked rapidly, fighting to hold back the burning tears welling up in your eyes. Your family constantly made you feel worthless and expendable, never able to live up to anyone's expectations. Though your friends loved you and sustained you with their unflinching support through years of emotional turmoil, they often seemed distant and out of reach. Their lives unfolded effortlessly as intended, while you found yourself stuck, aimless, and lagging far behind.

You felt an emptiness, a sense that something important was missing and never meant for you. Unexpectedly, that one casual night at the Baratie restaurant altered the course of your life forever.

“I haven’t been here long,” you replied. “And I have no intention of leaving.”

"Do you really enjoy being here?"

"I do. More than I ever imagined I would."

Sanji's smile widened as his hand slid upward to encircle your wrist.

"And just so you're aware, Patty is a good friend and great company. But he's not you."

His countenance radiated pride and satisfaction. “’Course he isn’t.”

"Right,” you smiled. “So there's no need for you to be jealous of him."

“Nah, I’m not jealous.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m just looking out for my girl.”

‘My girl’…

Your heart skipped a beat as his declaration sank in. No matter how you tried to view it, there was only one way to interpret his words. It was heartening to witness how deeply he cared about your happiness and well-being. He was a refreshing breeze, a guiding light in your darkest moments.

Heavens above, you were truly in love with him. It was a daunting realization, one you hadn’t anticipated arriving so soon. Deep down, however, you had always known.

From the instant you noticed his smile, his eyes, his polite mannerisms, his protective nature, and his physical strength, you struggled against your emotions like a ship caught in a tempest. Finally, your arduous journey had brought you to the safe harbor that Sanji represented for you.

Being with him felt like finding your true home.

"Well, your girl can never get enough of that."

He grinned contentedly, kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose. “All you have to do is ask.”

All you needed to do was ask, and he would fulfill your wish immediately.

Yes. You only needed to ask.

Could you find the courage to venture into unknown territory, uncertain of what awaited? Could you even dare to hope for more, after all the dedication you put in to reach that point?

Sanji was always there for you, with his kindness and affectionate gestures, ready to catch you whenever you were about to fall. He was nurtured by exceptional teachings, with Zeff playing a significant role in his upbringing, molding him into the admirable man he had become. But just like you, there was always a part of him that longed for more, for things that seemed so distant and impossible to reach.

You were two solitary souls adrift in a vast ocean, kindred spirits who found each other through challenging times.

Your eyes welled up with tears you could no longer control, one slipping down your cheek and landing on his wrist. Sanji’s smile vanished instantly, replaced by a furrowed brow as he brushed his thumb along your jaw.

“What’s going on, my lovely? Why are you crying?”

How could you possibly explain to him that his mere presence, his voice, and his smile were all you needed to feel whole and satisfied?

“Sanji…” Your voice was low, as thin and strained as a pulled thread.

“Yes, beautiful. What is it?”

“Stay.”

Sanji's gaze immediatly softened. You knew he required no further explanation; your intentions were unmistakable.

“Do you want me to spend the night with you…?”

“I do,” you confirmed. “Please, I need you. Stay with me.”

He swallowed again, more audibly this time, and withdrew his hand from yours. Then, he tenderly cradled your face in his familiar comforting manner, his breath warm against your skin. “Are you sure about this? Because once we start, I won’t be able to hold back.”

“I don’t want you to hold back.”

“Y/N—”

“Sanji, I only stopped you today because I want this to be special, not something that happens in a storage room where anyone from our crew could walk in on us.”

You reached for his tie, your nails delicately tracing the knot. “I actually wished you had never stopped.”

The air around you grew increasingly magnetic, and your body temperature soared to an impossible level.

“Then you’ll have me,” he vowed. “If this is what you want, I’ll be yours until dawn.”

“That won’t be enough.”

“How about for as long as you want me?”

"That's better. But I don't think I'll ever stop wanting you."

His lips barely touched yours, a gentle caress brimming with promise. “Then I’ll keep giving you reasons to want me.”

All your self-control had dissipated, leaving you with an overwhelming desire for his body. With desperate fingers, you untangled the knot and yanked, letting his tie fall to the floor. Sanji happily let you take control, lovingly brushing your hair aside to kiss your cheek, chin, neck, and collarbones.

It felt suffocating, your head spinning like a tornado, but you quenched your thirst by straddling his waist, positioning your knees on either side. Sanji consumed you, relishing the flavor of your lips and tongue, as his hands traced gentle circles on your lower back.

With a sense of urgency, you began unbuttoning his shirt, opening the top and revealing his chest. You fought the impulse to tear his shirt off and reveal him all at once, his delicate touch contrasting sharply with your impatience. His fingertips slipped under your shirt to gently caress your back dimples, causing your upper body to jolt slightly, a moan escaping your lips.

Your breath quickened. As you continued unbuttoning his shirt, you intentionally let your fingers glide over the warmth and smoothness of his skin. Sanji's hands tightened around you as you instinctively moved your hips against his.

Through the gap in his shirt, his chiseled physique was on full display, with sculpted muscles that made your mouth water. Sanji grinned at your evident appreciation, swept his hair back with that characteristic flick, then returned to your lips and began lifting the hem of your shirt. You raised your arms, letting him slip off the garment to reveal the lace of your bra.

Sanji delicately set the shirt on the floor beside his tie. His careful handling of even your clothes was genuinely endearing. Your hair had fallen into disarray, partially obscuring your face. He smiled tenderly, tucking the stray strands behind your ears, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

His ability to remain romantic even in the heat of the moment was something you weren't accustomed to during lovemaking. He valued you, treating you like the most delicate piece of glass, holding back his own desires even as you felt his hardness pressing against your core.

His eyes paused briefly on your breasts, snug within your bra. He cast a fleeting glance, just long enough to admire their shape and the outline of your nipples through the fabric.

"So beautiful," he breathed, pulling you into another passionate kiss.

“Look who’s talking,” you said with enthusiasm, easing his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.

Sanji quickly discarded the rest of the garment, tossing it onto the growing pile of clothes at his feet. It was amusing to see the stark difference in how he treated his own belongings compared to the care he took with yours.

"Let's get you more comfortable, my lovely."

You bit your lower lip, pressing your hips into him with more insistence. “I’m comfortable right here.”

He took a deep breath, stifling a laugh that came out as a muffled gasp. “Then let me ensure you're even more satisfied.”

With his warm hands gripping your sides, he adjusted his position and gently lowered you onto your back against the mattress. Your legs, already spread with him nestled between them, wrapped fully around his waist. Sanji’s arousal was palpable through his pants, pressing insistently against your trousers. Your inner walls clenched involuntarily and your clit throbbed from the friction of his bulge. The intensity was all-consuming, yet you wished for it to never end.

He kissed you repeatedly, his fingers skillfully unbuttoning your lower clothing. With gentle precision, he slid them down your thighs, prompting you to arch your hips to assist.

Something had clearly snapped inside him. As soon as your pants came off, he quickly kicked off his shoes. He unbuttoned and took off his black trousers with such frenzy that you feared they might rip, but he was too careful for that to happen. You hungrily took in the sight of his hard thigh muscles, sculpted knees, and strong calves, like a woman starved for a long time.

It had been years since your last sexual encounter, and you couldn't remember ever feeling so intensely aroused. This time, there were no fears of disappointing your partner or insecurities about your body not matching his expectations. No, his sweetness and protectiveness left no room for doubt in your heart.

Sanji's hands moved up your hips, teasing the elastic band of your underwear before gliding over your belly. It took all your willpower to avoid staring at the prominent erection straining beneath the tight fabric of his dark briefs, pushing forward so forcefully that you wondered how he could endure such discomfort without flinching.

His fingertips hovered just below your breasts, barely grazing their curves as he sought your permission with his eyes. He remained still, not daring to repeat his earlier move from the storage room. He needed your reassurance, and you had no reason or desire to stop him from doing what you wanted most in the world.

With a confident smile, you placed his hands on your mounds, letting him savor their softness as you let out a delightful sigh. He breathed in deeply, gently wrapping his fingers around your flesh and squeezing as if it were the most precious silk.

"Y/N," he murmured. "Is this all right with you?"

You furrowed your brow. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because my only wish is to make you the happiest woman alive. If anything I do feels inappropriate or makes you uncomfortable—”

“Sanji. I swear.”

How could he be so remarkable? Even as his desire intensified, he held himself against you with a restraint that would drive any other man to madness. Yet, he curbed his impulses and waited for your explicit consent, making your heart race like never before and your eyes well with emotion.

His respect for you was boundless and limitless.

“Do I look uncomfortable to you in any way?”

“No, but I—”

"Believe me when I say you can do anything you want to me."

He wet his lips, his jaw clenched as the tension coursed through his veins. “Anything?”

To prove your point, you kissed him gently, slipping the tip of your tongue inside to caress his. “Anything.”

And that, at last, seemed to evoke the right reaction in him. His pupils dilated, and the corners of his lips curled into the most prideful smile he had ever shown.

"Just relax and let me pamper you, beautiful."

Well, if that didn’t send a shiver of pleasure straight to your core, you couldn't imagine what the rest of the night had in store for you.

You nodded fervently just before his lips crashed against yours again. The kisses were hot, sensual, and ravenous, with your tongues taking center stage in the passionate exchange. His hands squeezed, massaged, and lifted your breasts with the same expertise he used in the kitchen, his culinary skills translating seamlessly into the bedroom. And then, as his forefinger daringly slipped beneath the edge of your bra's cup, your mind went blank.

With a gentle tug, he effortlessly exposed your nipple, pink and stiff, for his eyes to finally behold. You felt a sudden pang of self-consciousness, but before you could fully grasp it, Sanji’s lips were already tantalizingly close to the sensitive bud. Your mind was in turmoil, and your stomach clenched with pleasure as his mouth barely parted, gently grazing your nipple and eliciting an uncontrollable moan.

His tongue darted forward, swirling around it as if relishing a cherry on top of a cake. A sigh escaped your lips, and you squirmed as he uncovered your other breast, his thumb instantly beginning to stimulate it. The sensation was utterly intoxicating, sending shivers straight to your clit and inner walls.

Sanji kept going, adjusting himself between your legs, his eyes locked with yours as he sucked on your hardened nipple. The sight was incredibly arousing, and despite your best efforts, you threw your head back as the pleasure became uncontainable.

Your chest arched, giving him the perfect chance to amplify your pleasure. With one breast in his mouth, his other hand journeyed downward, bypassing your mound to explore further. He traced gentle circles over your stomach, abdomen, and hip bone.

Your fingers wove through the back of his hair. Though you didn't pull, the simple gesture anchored you as your world seemed on the brink of unraveling. You shivered, whispering his name like a prayer, waves of pleasure crashing over you relentlessly.

His fingers slid over the waistband of your underwear, tracing your pubic bone and sensing your warmth through the cotton. Everything he did was meticulously orchestrated and seamlessly executed, setting your nerves on fire and making them sing.

Sanji knew precisely what he was doing, and he carried it out with mastery.

"Are you okay, my lovely?" He asked, his lips just barely parting from your breast.

You spoke with such resolute speed that even you were taken aback by your own zeal. “Yes. Keep going.”

Sanji conveyed his contentment with another kiss on your lips before turning his attention back to your breasts, alternating sides as his fingers continued their exploration. You yielded to his touch, your hips lifting as his tongue circled your neglected nipple, while his fingertips teased just above your covered clit.

He paused, tracing his thumb along your clothed entrance without making direct contact with the pulsing nub.

“Sanji—”

"See how wet you are," he noted casually, with the excitement of a child discovering their new favorite toy.

"Oof. And who do you think is responsible for that?"

“Definitely not Patty.”

“Are you serious? Patty again?”

Sanji laughed heartily, his white teeth gleaming in the dim light of the cabin. His blond hair, though partly uncombed, remained spectacularly beautiful. He appeared both ruggedly sexy and astonishingly sweet, consistently attentive and considerate, no matter the situation.

Even in the throes of passion, he never appeared weathered or out of place.

“I’m sorry, love. Maybe I am a little jealous.”

"But why? I'm practically naked in front of you. There's no other man I'd rather be with or think about. Ever."

Could your friendship with Patty have truly unsettled him, while your biggest worry was never being enough to make him fall for you?

Sanji's smile grew even wider as he propped himself up on his elbows, bringing his lips to your face once more. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Honestly, if you don’t do something soon, I feel like I might burst.”

Oh, he was reveling in every second, covering you in kisses and looking completely ecstatic.

“I would never leave you like this. I like tasting good food before eating it, and right now, you are more delicious than a Clafoutis.”

You chuckled. “A what now?”

"Clafoutis. It's a tart made with whole black cherries, enveloped in a sweet, custard-like batter."

“Great. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Sanji shook his head, amused. “No dessert on earth could ever rival your flavor.”

‘Except that you haven’t fully tasted me yet,” you said to yourself.

His fingers pressed more firmly against your labia, feeling your wetness seep into your underwear. You nibbled your lower lip and inhaled sharply, another moan escaping as he established a consistent rhythm.

The straps of your bra slid off your shoulders, revealing more of your breasts. Under different circumstances, this might have embarrassed you, but he made everything feel natural and free of shame. Your nipples, erect and slightly flushed, tingled with sensitivity, which only fueled Sanji's arousal. His fingers traced upward, barely brushing your clit and flicking it through the garment with the most delicate touch.

You shivered and gasped, anticipating his next move, only to find him gazing at you, spellbound.

“What…?”

His eyes turned red, and his lower lip trembled faintly, but his feelings were undeniable. "You really are extraordinarily enchanting."

How many times had he complimented you in a single day? His affection was so genuine that you found yourself starting to believe every word.

“Being with you like this makes me question what I ever did to deserve you.”

His reassurance began to dismantle the walls you had built around your self-doubt. It was clear how much he meant it—how deeply he trusted in you.

How often had you yearned for someone who could recognize your true worth without pressuring you to meet their standards? Years of reshaping yourself to fit others' preferences had left you like a clay doll—constantly broken, scratched, and never quite measuring up to what they wanted.

Then Sanji entered your life, lifting you from the mental slums you were trapped in and mending every crack with the purest gold.

You sat up abruptly, wrapped your arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply, channeling all your love and desperation into it.

"Where have you been all my life?" you asked, breaking the kiss with a loud, wet pop.

“I’ve been right here, waiting for a woman like you to walk through the restaurant’s door,” he replied, his voice husky.

“There are plenty of pretty ones, you know.”

"Mm," he whispered against your lips. "But as you said, my lovely, they aren't you."

It felt as if an arrow had pierced the center of your chest, leaving you breathless in an instant.

"Please, I need you to touch me," you begged. "I want to feel you right now."

He cherished your honesty, the richness of your voice, and the comforting warmth of your bare body beneath his.

Gently laying you back, he deftly unhooked your bra, capturing both straps between his thumbs and forefingers. His eyes darkened with desire as the tip of his hardness pressed more insistently along your inner thigh through his underwear.

“Can I take this off?”

He was just too charming to resist.

“Absolutely.”

You felt his strong hands on your upper back, tracing over your shoulder blades and down your arms. With care, he lowered the straps, removing your final piece of clothing and letting it fall to the floor.

Unable to resist any longer, his lips pressed against yours for what felt like the hundredth time, his hands kneading your breasts as he hummed against your tongue. He trailed kisses along your jawline, found the sensitive spot on your neck, then returned to your nipples, sucking one and then the other like a chef savoring the most delectable creation.

But he didn’t stop there, oh no. While keeping one of your buds engaged, his hand returned to your clit without hesitation. Through the delicate fabric of your panties, he located your sensitive spot, swollen and craving more attention. This time, he stroked your clit up and down, faster and faster, making your legs spread wider instinctively.

With his fervent massage and the prior attentions, it didn’t take long for that familiar knot to form in your belly. Your hips moved in harmony with his hand as he caressed your clit in the most exquisite way, at the perfect pace.

"Sanji, I’m almost there," you announced, your voice quivering.

“You’re close?”

“Mhm.”

“Then let me make this feel even better for you.”

Intrigued by his next move, you watched as he eased away from your chest and moved down the bed. He slipped his fingers beneath the elastic, lacy band of your lingerie and began to slide it off. You let him, feeling your panties roll down your legs until you were completely bare and exposed for him to see.

Sanji shifted his position, drawing his face closer to your core and gently spreading your thighs wider. His eyes absorbed every intimate detail of your womanhood. With anyone else, you would have felt extremely uneasy, considering such scrutiny offensive and remendously mortifying. With Sanji, it was different. He sincerely admired every part of you in every way you offered, devoid of any vulgarity or hidden agendas.

“Every inch of you is a work of art,” he expressed, his thumb lightly caressing your clit again. “You’re divine, like a beautiful flower deserving of the utmost reverence and adoration. I’m mesmerized by you."

Hit and sunk. Quite literally. Should he ever, for some absurd reason, abandon his cooking career, you could easily envision him as the most talented poet in the entire East Blue, if not the world.

“Sanji—”

“Shh, I’ll take care of you.”

And so he did, expertly stimulating your clit with precise movements, while two of his fingers effortlessly found their way inside you. You were completely soaked, making his access to your inner walls smooth and easy. He entered you slowly, his fingers advancing and searching for that sensitive spot he knew would make you lose control. Your hands gripped the sheets, your chest heaving as your breath became more rapid.

The moment he found it, your G-spot reacted instantly, making your eyes roll back and your voice falter. You were on the verge of release, holding on the brink but not quite able to soar.

And just when you thought you couldn't handle any more, his thumb was replaced by his tongue, which danced over your clitoris in rapid circles, causing a series of sounds that made your skin flush and burn.

It was unexpected but welcomed nonetheless.

Sanji groaned against your core. The interplay of his mouth and fingers became intoxicating, the sensation in your abdomen intensifying and drawing you closer to an agonizing climax. He pleasured you with insatiable hunger, savoring every moment as if you were his most prized delicacy.

You gathered a handful of his hair, sweeping it aside to get a clear view of his eyes. They were full of pleasure and reverence, connecting with yours in a way that made you want to cry anew.

"I need you," you repeated, your hips trembling.

He smiled knowingly, his fingers skillfully beckoning you closer to completion. "I'm here, my lovely. I'm not going anywhere."

With each touch and stroke, he elevated you to heights of pleasure you had never dreamed of. Your body responded exquisitely, moving in perfect unison with him, as if guided by instinct. He played you like a finely tuned instrument, akin to a bard crafting the most wonderful love song in existence.

And finally, with just the right lick and press deep inside you, your orgasm arrived like a powerful sea wave, sweeping you away from the shore. You covered your mouth to contain your moans, otherwise too loud for anyone else on the ship to ignore. Your legs trembled and your hips bucked, but Sanji's arms kept your thighs secure. Though his fingers had withdrawn, his mouth stayed fixed on your clit, drawing out the pleasure until your orgasm subsided.

You were panting, your body weak and trembling, as Sanji brought his wet fingers to his mouth. His nostrils flared, and his eyes closed as he indulged in your taste with the same rapture he reserved for his finest ingredients.

Your walls were still shaking, pulsing and clenching around nothing, already feeling empty and requiring something else. As soon as he returned to you, his kiss infused with your essence, the evident rigidity of his arousal made it clear that your night had only just begun.

And you were more than enthusiastic to explore every aspect of Sanji’s devotion.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 7 (coming soon) ->

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 1

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Back with the Fosters! All blood related, it’s just their last name is Foster. Carson is a teen and has more than his fair share of problems. On ageing up he found out he had asthma which led to him developing OCD in an attempt to control it. He is on some medication to help and at long last it seems that Sulani is getting a counsellor to see him for talk therapy. It’s his first appointment today so he’s feeling a bit worried.

Harvey: We definitely made the right choice moving here, no such thing as Winter

Kayleigh: I don’t know, the house feels too big with all the kids gone

Harvey: We’ll have grandkids to fill it soon enough. Morning Carson

Carson: Hmm? Oh, hey dad

Kayleigh: You okay honey?

Carson: You know me mum, nothing can dent me

Kayleigh: You say that but being a teen is hard, remember we were teens to

Carson: I am aware mum, that’s how growing up works

Harvey: Are you sure you don’t want to come for a run with me this morning

Carson: Thanks for the offer dad but I can’t risk it

Kayleigh: Because of the asthma?

Carson: Yeah. My inhaler disappeared

Kayleigh: What would Deanna’s brother say? You know the paranoid one

Harvey: Mod must have been deleted

Carson: It's not enough to talk about Reece but now you're talking about his stupid friends to? I really don’t know that I believe in mods but I swear I’ve looked everywhere

Kayleigh: You shouldn’t need it unless you have an attack right

Carson: Technically but it helps to know it’s there

Kayleigh: Well make sure you mention that to the counsellor

Carson: *sighs* I will mum, I’ve got a whole mental list of stuff

Harvey: When you’re finished meet us down by the beach, my club is having a get together

Carson: Will they all be there? Bob and James and stuff?

Harvey: Yep, and this is my chance to meet Ariadne. She likes fishing apparently and James is looking for more things he can do with her

Carson: Cool. Well I better get on, I’ve got homework and stuff first

Kayleigh: The appointment will go well honey, try not to worry too much

Using the most of the fine weather Kayleigh went out for a swim. Yes the ocean was right there but so was the swimming pool. Harvey went for his normal run around the island. He may be getting on in years but he wasn’t going to let his body condition slip away from him. Still inside Carson stuck to cleaning, there was a lot to do if he just looked for it. Dishes needed rinsing, and the sink could really do with a clean, and the fridge was getting messy inside. Eventually he did enough to take a break and call his best friend.

Carson: Hey, I didn’t wake you right?

Onyx: Nah, I’ve been up for hours just reading to Maelstrom

Carson: You and that horse, it’s like you’re merging in to a centaur

Onyx: You worried about seeing the counsellor

Carson: No! I mean... maybe, why

Onyx: You’re extra cranky when you’re stressed, which I get because me to you know

Carson: It’s just he’s bound to ask all these questions and what if I don’t want to talk about things

Onyx: I mean you’re going there to talk right? So you’ll be talking

Carson: Yeah but I just thought, what if he asks about like crushes and stuff

Onyx: Why would he ask that

Carson: It’s just... all my feelings are so confusing I can barely figure me out

Onyx: Well maybe talking about it could help. Just because I’m pan doesn’t mean I understand all about orientations. *chuckles* You really don’t want to ask her out till you get your head sorted huh

Carson: I really don’t. Am I just being a coward by not telling her I like her though

Onyx: Carson, it’s taken you long enough to find someone attractive at school dude, it makes sense you don’t want to rush it

Following her swim Kayleigh decided to do some more painting, she had maxed skill but practice never hurt, especially when she wanted to create masterpieces like the ones that hung framed on her walls. She’d recently moved some pictures of her kids and their partners down near her eye level to add inspiration.

Before he left the house Carson made sure to clean the stovetop. If he didn’t then his dad could start a fire and burn the house down while he was out. Then he would be an orphan, and his siblings would hate him. Safest thing was just to clean it himself to prevent any fire causing build up. He sighed. The intrusive thoughts were something else. He didn’t have a way to shut them off except going through the cleaning motions. Hopefully the counsellor could help.

Carson: Okay Mum, I’m... I’m going

Kayleigh: Be safe honey. Remember the counsellor is there to help you

Carson: Sure he is. Probably think I’m nuts and recommend I be locked up

Kayleigh: What was that dear

Carson: Nothing Mum, I’ll see you after

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[ryin-silverfish]

On Erlang's mom, Lotus Lantern, and a neat little discovery

"Erlang's mom is Yaoji, JE's sister."

You can see that statement in literally every JTTW + adjacent fandom, both Chinese and English. Personally, it isn't as annoying as the "Nvwa is JE's daughter" thing, but does get a little tiring when everyone and their mother takes it as actual mythos.

So, in this post, I'll do a bit of digging, and trace the evolutionary trajectory of that claim.

Reading my Lotus Lantern Summaries first will be quite helpful, but if you haven't, I'll be linking to these posts when they become relevant.

The Start of It All

-As far as I know, JTTW novel is the first textual source that said "Erlang is JE's nephew". Specifically, in SWK's pre-battle taunts, he commented that "Hey, I heard JE's sister got chummy with Yang the mortal and gave birth to a son, is that you?" (JTTW Chapter 6)

-The same chapter also mentions that Erlang cleaved open the Peach Mountain to save his mom, implying she was imprisoned as a punishment for her forbidden relationship.

-The other roughly contemporary source, the Precious Scroll of Erlang, expanded on that story: here, Erlang's mom is Lady Yunhua (云花, literally "Cloud-Flower"), part of a trio of three sisters born of "Father Cloud" and "Mother Rain", who embodied the "Three Flowers", a Daoist internal alchemy jargon.

-She is also mentioned to be an immortal maiden of the Dipper-Ox Palace, where Queen Mother of the West resided. Erlang's dad, Yang Tianyou, is the incarnate of a "Golden Boy" acolyte, and they pretty much got insta-married after Yunhua revealed her true identity.

-In the Precious Scroll, Erlang's mom was also put under a mountain by SWK, and he went to QMoW to ask for his mother's whereabouts, pulling off the "carrying the mountains & chasing the suns" stunt on his way to rescue her.

-Pretty different from what you know, right? Here, Erlang was an only child, his mother was never explicitly said to be imprisoned under a mountain by JE's orders, and his father wasn't a run-of-the-mill mortal either.

-So what changed?

Erlang in the Premodern Lotus Lantern stories

-Well, the Lotus Lantern story cycle happened, and Erlang's own mom-saving story got copied over to his nephew Chenxiang.

-However, in all except one iteration of the Lotus Lantern tales, Erlang's parentage was never stated: this iteration is what I called Lotus Lantern 2.0, in which Erlang's own mom-saving story was canon too.

-It did leave out the "SWK put his mom under a mountain" part, though, despite lifting the name Yang Tianyou (and Lady Yunhua too, though her name in this story was Yuntai, "Cloud-Terrace") from the Precious Scroll.

-Similarly, the Lady of Mt. Hua/San Shengmu in all but one iteration of these stories wasn't punished by the Celestial Host, and Erlang putting her under a mountain was entirely his personal decision.

-In the one story that did, it was because she had whipped up a storm and ruined the mortals' crops while she was going after Liu the scholar.

-In fact, in all these pre-modern Lotus Lantern stories, San Shengmu and Liu's relationship was greenlit + Divinely Ordained by the Celestial Host.

The One TV Series to Change it All

-Yep, it's my childhood memory, the 2000s Lotus Lantern + Prequel shows that started the "Erlang's mom was Yaoji" thing!

-Here, she fell in love with the mortal Yang Tianyou after he sacrificed his own heart to save her, Erlang had an older brother named Yang Jiao who was killed together with his father on JE's orders, who also killed Yaoji via exposure to the Ten Suns after her release.

-That last part was probably inspired by the story of Nv Chou in the Books of Mountains and Seas, who was...this random sorceress/witch that got scorched to death by the Ten Suns.

-For a long time, I thought this was it: Erlang's mom being Yaoji was something the show-writers just pulled out of thin air, and entirely their original invention.

-Then I came across this little tidbit in Vol. 3 of the Tang dynasty text, 墉城集仙录...

-Translation: "Lady Yunhua was the 23th daughter of QMoW and the sister of Lady Wang of Taizhen, and her name is Yaoji."

-The last character, 华, is different from the 花 of Yunhua in the Precious Scroll story, but these two characters could often be used interchangeably.

-It must also be noted that the similar name/title is just a coincidence, and mythos-wise, Yaoji's legends never converged with Erlang's mom-saving story at all.

-But yeah, the Lotus Lantern + Prequel show writers probably saw the two names, went "Won't it be neat if we merge them into a single character?", and thus the most influential "urban legend" of Chinese mythos/folklore was born.

(Honestly, with the way myths and folklore evolve, maybe this version of the story would become canonized too after a hundred years or so!)

Edit: Check out the comments——@fate-magical-girls has informed me that the "Erlang's mom being Yaoji" thing had an earlier origin in the 1987 Teochew opera 三姐下凡!

Seems like Lotus Lantern Prequel has taken a lot more inspirations from said opera, aside from that bit: Erlang's three-pronged, double-bladed spear being a three-headed flood dragon he subdued, for example.