#why is it just chimney but worse

[foxstens]

why is underhang so hard backwards as spearmaster

[chuuzmii]

Whenever people talk about the maddie running away storyline like buck was in the right i get confused because wasn't the entire moral of that arch that CHIM was right? And just because i can feel someone rearing up to "OH SO U THINK CHIMNEY SHOULD HAVE PUNCHED BUCK IN THE FACE !?!?!?" no but we r going to get to that jus lemme say a lil sumn.

I always see people saying "Buck was right to hide maddies location from chim because maddies ex was abusive!" And like honestly i think thats cute if it applied but it need not apply here. Buck knew chimney wasn't dangerous, maddie explicitly told him that SHE needed a mental health break. Never not once do we see buck thinking chim is abusive and thats why he's not telling him where maddie is. He's literally just doing it because maddie told him not to. She lied to him and told him she needed a mental health break and that she would be fine but in reality she was about to khs and chim was the only one who knew something was off. And i personally think it's because chimney knows a different maddie than buck does. Buck knows strong maddie, he knows parental maddie, he knows a maddie that takes care of things and keeps shit together. The last time he saw his sister she was handing him the keys to get away from their parents. Buck doesn't know a maddie that isn't in control. But Chimney knows a different version of maddie. He's taken care of her he knows her intimately he knows things she's probably never even told buck so he KNEW maddie was in danger and he was right. I mean Bucks talk with Eddie literally solidified this. Eddie says buck knows his sister but he doesn't know her the same way chimney does and that he should let chim go after her.

Now for the punch iI think u guys are focusing on the Maddie of it all just a little bit too much and not the Jee of the entire situation. Lets say u have a baby, a tiny human that you love so much it feels like ur heart is beating outside of ur body. Now lets say that u just found out that baby was hurt and not only that but someone lied and his the fact that ur kid was hurt from u. Bro i would be pissed ngl. Like i still don't think he was in the right to punch him but like i understand his anger. Anyway im rambling what im trying to say is that im just confused when I see people saying chim was wrong cus like yeah he was IN the wrong for the punch but he was right about his hunch that maddie was in danger

[kateis-cakeis]

people are really so weird and so fatphobic huh

(and oops most of my commentary is in the tags XD)

[venmondiese]

A Cure For A Bad Day

Summary: Aemond has one of his worst days ever, nothing seems to go right. At night, at least, he gets the company of his new wife as he bathes.

Based on Ewan Mitchell's and TGC 'Scene Reactions' when he says "When we did that scene, when he had the rain machine going in, the dye on the eyepatch... it just stained the wig"

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, bath sex, breeding kink, overall very sweet, aemond discovering feelings. ✧Word Count: 5.2k ✧ Ao3 link: here ✧gifs: by myfandomprompts

Aemond is known for many things. He is fierceless, perfectionist, well trained with the sword, and bold. Those things he was proud of. 

And all those things, he was not today.

He trained by morning, and Criston Cole was waiting for him. The sword felt slightly different on his hand, weird, but he just took it that he slept badly and that's why his arm felt numb. 

Now, after losing his eye, he had to learn things differently. He had a considerably big blind spot, and so he learned how to keep it aware of his surroundings as training with the sword. Yet, those things do not have in mind the little rocks on the ground, which he stepped on and twisted his ankle as he tried to defend Ser Criston’s attack.

And with that, he twisted his ankle and slightly cut his hand. 

He was annoyed, but he tried not to pay attention to it. A silly mistake. The rock was on his blind side, how could he notice? It was a rookie mistake, and it burned his cheeks to remember it. 

By the evening, after eating, he decided to ride Vhagar. His girl liked long rides, not so fast but more calm, and prowling around the crownlands skies.

 He did not anticipate the rain. 

For some reason or another, Vhagar was as grumpy as him, and she did not seem to want to go over the clouds in the rain. No, she wanted full on take a bath on the rainfall.

And Aemond had to bear it. But what was worse was when he realised that his eyepatch had dyed his hair. He just picked the worst eyepatch today. 

His hair was slightly silver auburn, and just in some parts. He hated it, and it made his day ten times worse as he realised the eyepatch had been too tight, and it had been suffocating his scar without him realising. 

He had trouble with the sensibility on his left side of his face, and just today he put his eyepatch too tight. It made him furious.

And he decided to make it everyone’s problem. 

He was laying in the bathtub, next to the fire as he had a horrible headache. He came in, demanding a bath as the servants had to rush to get him hot water.

 He took his own clothes off, kicking his boots away, refusing any servants touch as he undoes his own leather jerkin, he unties his breeches, grunting and mumbling in frustration, hating each instance of this day. He thinks a bath will help him to relax even a bit. He just wanted to sleep, and end up with this horrible day. 

His scar itches, and it drives insane. It was as if the itchcame from the deep parts of his cheekbones and it drove him mad. He was at the edge of peeling his own skin to scratch his damn scar. 

Only in his undergarments, he ignores the chilling cold from the chamber, and he walks barefoot as the servants fill the bathtub with hot water. As hot as possible. He walks over the chimney, and throws the eyepatch in, hoping it burns in hell. 

His loose hair, tinted with the dye of the eyepatch. If he only knew who was the mastermind behind it, who decided to spend coins on it; he would kill them. And they better hope this stupid dye can get off with the bath, or head will start rolling. 

The water was hot, but he paid no mind. He liked boiling hot, and he sat against his as he let the attendant boy prepare scents and the oils to put on the water, and to wash him. Aemond didn’t allow him to wash him; yet. He wanted some moments of peace in the hot water, so he remained a good amount of time still.

“Bring me the ointment that Maester Orwyle prepared for my eye” Aemond’s voice is low, yet demanding as the boy gets out, not without bowing to the prince.

He waits, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that would calm his nerves, his headache. He believes it works, so he is focused on it, as he accommodates his legs on the water, trying to be relaxed.

Time is a bit dizzy, and when he hears the door open, he can hear the servants speaking hushedly, as if wanting him not to hear. Good, because he didn’t want to listen to them either. 

He can hear the little taps that the shoes do as the maid leaves the oils for his hair on a near table, and takes his hair on her hands, gently. He doesn’t turn to face her; he just wants the damn dye to get off. 

Hands wash his hair, and if he wants to relax, this is making it impossible. The little tugs and the awful way that scrubs his hair to take the dye off, and the weird caresses on his neck from time to time. 

“You are not doing correctly" he grumbles to the servant with closed eyes as his migraine is persistent. "Learn how to wash a prince's hair" he adds, sharply.

“Apologies” The voice comes as a murmur, a bit strained if even, as the hands go to his neck, and all the way up.

“My prince” He adds sharply, he cannot believe his luck today. “When you address a royal member of the Targaryen House, you use their title. My prince” he says, patronisingly and even angry. 

“Yes, my prince” a little cough at the end, he either thinks the maid is trying to hold back a laugh or embarrassment. Not that he cares, as he has his eye closed and a hand on his temple, his head resting on his hand, that caresses his forehead trying to get that awful headache away

Aemond's face was scrunched up in pain, as his eyes were closed. "Are you new at this? I swear... I am starting to believe that they are just sending me incompetent maids to attend to me..." the young prince groaned.

His body stiffens, as arms go to wrap his neck from behind, and before he can sit up properly, he feels the maid kiss his cheek lovingly as she giggles. “Apologies, my prince…” 

The voice is clear as day, and if his hand was going to fetch the little dagger on the table by his side, it stops. 

He turns his head to his right, seeing your wide smile as you wait for his reaction. He groans, rolling his eyes, which causes you to laugh loudly.

His new wife, she always liked to tease him and cling to him, always hugging him, taking his hand in hers or kissing him all over. He didn’t mind; he always allowed her even at court. But he won’t admit that he likes it too.

“Wife” he greets you as he sighs, and he feels your hand rubbing circles in the back of his neck. 

“I know, I do not know how to wash hair. You’ve made it completely clear”

“I thought you were a servant” he says, looking at her. “You are a highborn lady, you don’t need to know how to.”

“True…” you say, moving some of the wet hair out of his face, and squeezing it so it isn’t dripping. “I heard that my prince had a horrible day, and he was in a bad mood. Servants do talk, you know…” you say looking at him with a smile “Wanna tell me about it?”

Aemond sighs and looks at you, as you take the sponge to wash his body. He sighs as you pour some of the water in his chest and start scrubbing softly.

“"A terrible day... I stepped on a rock, and twisted my ankle and cut my arm in the process... Then i wanted to relax with a ride on Vhagar, but it started to rain, the fucking dye of the eyepatch got all over my hair and eye.. I have the worst migraine now..." his voice is rough, and he seems annoyed at the memory of it. “And I haven’t seen you as much as I’d like”

It wasn’t the worst day he has ever lived. Maybe. When he lost his eye it could be the top one. He won Vhagar, at the cost of his eye. It was an amazing thing, traded for the worst thing that has ever happened to him. He was still living the consequences of it today, as his scar stinged on his skin.

“Not your best day, I see” you say softly, scrubbing his chest. He enjoys it, as he looks at you, leaning back in the bath as you scrub his chest. “I’m sorry to hear it”

“I don’t need pity” 

You chuckle “It is not pity” you say softly, looking at your husband. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

Aemond stays silent. He is not used to someone caring about him like this. Sure, his mother cared for him, and so did Helaena But not like this. 

“Be by my side”

The silence is a bit comforting, as you wash his body. He looks at you deeply, and he cannot help but think how stunning you are. You didn’t find any discomfort in washing him, in caring and tending to him. You never once seem disgusted by his lack of eye, by his empty eye socket, or his ugly scar. Never once you discarded him. 

It was more than often that you placed the ointment prepared by maester Orwyle on his eye, his scar, where his nerves were permanently damaged and they brought discomfort to him. You never once complain.

“You look different” he says, looking at you in the dim lights of the room.

“Different how?” you ask, as you finish brushing his hair, making sure the dye is almost completely getting off his wet hair. He has little curls, which makes you smile like an idiot.

“I do not know. Shining. Radiant. Lovely.” He murmurs, moving one of his wet hands to tickle a strand of hair on your ear. “Different”

“So I usually do not look radiant or lovely…”

“Not what I meant” he groans and you chuckle softly. “You were sick. Now you look much better in… spirits.”

“You look different too” You say looking at him with a smile. Your eyes fall to his chest, and you smile. He notices how you get flustered at the sight of his nakedness. 

“More wounded” he says ironically, leaning back with a sigh. 

“Stronger” you correct him smiling. “More… mhm. I’d say more… Hot”

“You think I am hotter when I'm wounded?”

“Not what I meant” you say chuckling under your breath, “I meant… I like seeing you like this... Leaning back is so... manly, and hot…" 

“Oh, do you?” he asks slightly amused, leaning back still as he looks at you, nodding and smiling. Aemond frowns a bit, and he hisses then you accidentally hit his new wound on his wrist. 

“Sorry, love” you say, kissing his hand, and smiling. “You know, when I was little they cured my wounds like this. With a kiss”

“Did they?” He asks, trying to remain interested even with his headache. 

“Yes. Like this” She says kissing near his wound, a very feather-like kiss. “See? Does it feel better?”

You look at him with an adorable expression, as if you truly think that this would make him feel better. Aemond blinks, as he looks at you. 

It ticks him the wrong way that you care about him. Why would you? Perhaps it is a womanly thing. He wasn’t so sure. Perhaps as his wife, it is your burden, having to make a maimed man feel better. 

The prettiest maiden in court, chained to a maimed man, deformed and always wounded, stuck in the pain of his eye to see beyond. Wasting your best years with him. 

And he cannot decipher why.

“Aemond?” You ask as he trails off. 

“Yeah” he clears his throat, awkwardly, and he moves his legs a bit. “I guess so” 

“Where else does it hurt?” You ask sweetly.

He sometimes hates how kind you can be, he doesn’t know what your upper intentions are, but after all, you are his wife even if he can’t decipher you.

“Well, my eye, obviously…” he says a bit embarrassed “And… my left foot, I guess. And my arm, because I slept on it… and…”

You nod, looking at him as he speaks. He is intimidated, he realises. You make sure to hear all of what he has to say, with your sweet eyes. 

You move to the end of the bathtub, and move to kiss his ankle softly, no complaints, no hesitation. Nothing… odd, about it. Only out of tenderness. You kiss his shoulder, and his left cheekbone, softly, to make sure it doesn’t burn on his skin. He just lets you, because it makes you happy, thinking that it helps.

And he doesn’t realise that it actually helps him, in a way. The smile on your face makes him smile too, and he sighs.

“Better?” 

“Mhm” he hums in agreement, looking at your face. “Better when you're with me, yes” 

He is utterly head over heels for you, even if he isn’t good with feelings. He loves you, even when he seems slightly annoyed by you. 

“And you?”

“And me?” You ask curiously.

“You were sick. Coughing like crazy, and all your body ached.” he says softly, “in confinement, away from me… Do you truly feel better?”

“I am better. Lady Westerling got all of us sick” you say with a slight smirk. “my body still aches a bit, but it’s…” you hesitate a bit, slightly nervous.

“Then join me” he interrupts, moving to try and get you in the bathtub with him. "The hot water will do good to you..."

"It will burn my skin, I hate how hot you take these baths..." you protests, moving his hands off your waist as he tries to pull you in.

"The Blood of the Dragon, wife" he says smugly, smirking. "It is cold, anyways. It is barely warm"

"You like it boiling hot" You say smiling to him, and he presses a kiss on your jaw.

"I do, indeed." He admits "Come on, get in with me"

“Aemond, my nightgown…” you protest, and he rolls his good eye.

“You have others, let it get wet” You seem to give in, as he helps you get in, holding your hand as you enter the bathtub. “It will do good to your aches.” He insists, taking your waist in his hands to place you on his lap.

“I think it is an excuse” you say, blushing a bit as you accomodate on his lap.

“A good one, you must admit” he says looking at you, and he passes his hands all the way up to your back.  “But an innocent one, I must admit” he says, and you tilt your head as if asking him to elaborate “I don’t think I am up for anything, I am too tired for it”

You hum, his still wet hair made him look almost cute. His little curls...

“The dye came off” you say, as he leans to kiss your neck a bit. “I can go to the tailor and ask them to make another eyepatch one for you. More fancy. With real leather. Maybe add some fancy dragon scales in it” 

“Hm. Fine” he says looking up at you, smiling at how delicious you were. He places a kiss on your hand, and he smiles. “What is bothering you?”

You stay still, blinking a bit. “Court. Ladies… at court. They don't seem to like me much. I mean, they like me but I always feel excluded. Like I am doing too much for them to like me”

Aemond looks at you, a bit surprised by it. He places his hands on your waist, and he certainly was thinking about how to comfort you. He wasn’t a court charmer either, so he hummed.

“I thought you had friends.” 

“I do… I guess. They just never seem to think of me when doing things. They do not hate me, no… I am the new one…, and so they just…. Don’t include me”

“I’ll include you” he states nodding. “I’ll bring you with me everywhere. Training, riding Vhagar, in the library, all of it.” He proposes softly. 

“Hm. It would be pleasant.”

You smile softly, your hands, now wet and in the water, move from his abdomen all the way up to his chest.

Your husband was well fit. A prince of the realm, training with the sword since he was little. He practised almost every day, and was very detail-oriented in his field. And that paid off, as he was lean; yet muscular. 

You two were still newlyweds. Maybe three months since you two married, and things were a bit awkward still. You tried to decipher his odd behaviour and he tried the same with yours, starting to know each other personally, yet there was a bond, a silent affection you both shared for the other.

His body felt warm. He had stayed at the bathtub for Gods know how many hours, and he was all wet and shiny. You hand caressed his muscles, going up from his abdomen to where his wispy chest hair were. 

“What is in your mind?”

You hum, and smile “How handsome my husband is” you murmur “How good he is to me…” you add “How much I truly like you…”

Aemond raises his eyebrows, and he looks at you as your hand caress his torso up and down, slowly, as if you were tempting him. 

“Oh?”

You nod softly, and even if he doesn’t know you too well; he knows this face.

You move to kiss his neck, your arms wrapped around his torso as you leave little kisses all over his skin. He chuckles a bit, at your little desperation for the demonstration of love, you were such a physical person for him. 

“Darling, what are you-”

“I just missed you” You say, and he can see in his head the pout you would form if you weren’t so eagerly kissing his neck. 

He chuckles as his hand holds your waist firmly on his lap, and he leans his head back, facing the ceiling as you two spoke. “Very eagerly, I see” 

“You are tired. But let me…” 

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him as you press gentle kisses there, and he smiles, starting to feel the boiling arousal in his abdomen, looking at the ceiling as if it could distract his mind. 

“Very well” 

His arms went to the edges of the bathtub, as he felt the fabric of the nightgown against his chest, and he certainly was starting to enjoy the constant nibbling and wetness of your kisses. 

Aemond lets out a quiet groan, enjoying the gentle bites at his neck, as he feels his neck a little warmer. “You little minx- Did you just give me a hickey?”

Your giggle tells him all, as you move your lips to the start of his clavicle. His good eye closes as he enjoys the way your mouth feels against his sensitive skin. 

“You are simply… delicious” you murmur, your kisses going lower to his chest, before stopping a moment.

“Do not tell me you want to leave a hickey there…” He says, moving his head down to look at you.

As he imagined before, your mouth turns into a pout as you frown; most adorably he must add. 

“Oh, please! Let me try” You ask him “It is a way to show you that I missed you” You add, trying to convince him as he chuckles, making a mocking sound. 

Aemond rolls his eyes as he feels your eager mouth sucking the skin of his chest, as if he was some kind of… not even he knew. It felt strange. Worshiped and feral. That’s how it felt, at least for him.

Once you separate, you look at your work, your thumb moving along the bruised skin with a satisfied smirk. 

“Looks so good on you” you swear, as if it was a matter to be known. 

“If it makes you happy” he says, accommodating on his seat, the water moving along with him. “My turn, then?” 

You shake your head with a giggle “You always make it a mess!”

That he did, and he smiles a bit, seeing the lack of lovemarks of your neck.

It is you who eagerly kiss him, and press your body to his, as if needing him. He isn’t one to complain, as he feels your eager lips pressing against his and your tongue invading his mouth. Rather bold, to his taste. But he likes it.

Your hands on his shoulder make their slow way down, passing temptingly slow from his chest, to his abdomen. He gasps in the kiss, as if he was some kind of maiden, when he feels your hands underwater on his crotch and touching his cock. 

He frowns a bit as he separates, trying to demand an answer. “Wha-” he tries to ask before you shut him up with a kiss, not even letting him speak.

Rather eager, aren’t we… He thinks, but he isn’t one to complain, as your touch is like magic to his dick. In the water is odd, he has to admit, but his member thinks otherwise as he gets aroused from your eagerness.

You smooch him with kisses, and he feels… intimidated, in a good way. You don’t even allow him to breathe without going for another kiss, desperate. Feral.

He has a feral wife, it seems. 

“Darling, what are you…” he asks amused as you break the kiss, just to move your wet skirts all the way up, but he can’t see much of your pussy in the water, which he dislikes a lot. 

“I missed you” you repeat “A lot.” 

“It isn’t as if you were confined in a tower for years. It was barely two days. And I visited you-”

“I need you, husband” you state impatiently, as your knees move to the sides of his hips. “so, if you are tired, I’ll do it” 

He blinks, surprised and taken aback. He is rather amused and aroused, at his bold wife.

“Alright” he says, looking at you as you can do the work alone. 

He isn’t tired for sex, not at all. He can certainly get the energy, maybe not perform as usual, but he’ll do it if you ask. You didn’t even need to ask for it. But seeing you in control is better than that.

You rode him once, for later to admit that it wasn’t your favourite position, because you grew tired quickly. He didn’t mind, but now he thinks he’ll have you riding him at least once a week.

The way your dick enters your body is slow, as you slowly lower yourself on it. He can see your face contoured with pleasure, how you shut your eyes, and your hands grip on his shoulders as you whimper on it, you open your mouth and he leans to kiss your neck a bit, as if wanting to give back the affection you give him.

More than bounce on it, you find it more practical to grind on it. Your hands, that move between his waist and his shoulders, as if you didn’t know where to hold him to help you grind against his cock.

“That’s so good…” you whimper as you grind on his cock. 

The water moves around, the harder you grind, the harder it moves on the bathtub. He is even sure that some of it has overflowed the bathtub, as he looks at your pretty face, as you moan needily. His hand moved to pull down your nightgown, just enough to expose both of your tits in the firm fabric. He pulls it down to expose your shoulders a bit, and it is a sight that only arouses him more.

“It’s so good, baby?” He asks looking up to you, and he leans his head to kiss your nipple, gently. 

He knows you missed him. You are not rough, or a mess on his cock. You are doing it so prettily, so sweetly, he knows that you truly have missed him and his touch. 

“Yeah, so-so good.” You babber a bit, nodding as he kisses your other breast softly. He does not hold you, he has his hand on the back, trying to keep him firm as you ride him. 

His right hand holds your waist, as he notices. Your arms are on his shoulders as you whimper and moan, grinding him, not even minding the water around.

He has to admit, in the bathtub isn’t as comfortable as outside of it. The water doesn’t help to be smoother, if anything, he has the impression it does the contrary. It may be just him, as you don’t say anything against it.

“So eager, baby…” he says amazed, and now he feels like the one worshipping you. He just adores you, he realises, as he sweetly talks you through it “You just needed me, this badly?” He asks, kissing your jaw.

The little nods you give him are enough to get him moving his hips slowly up to meet your little grinds and bounces.

He kisses your breast again, and the other, and the other. He adores you, how the little mewls from your mouth are so arousing for him as you clench your pussy around him. 

“Aemond…” you whine. “Feels.. amazing, so good...” you repeat, as if you couldn't think of anything else, as he looks up to you. 

 He is just surprised you have gotten this far without begging him to take control. They way he’d take your waist and flip you around, to make you hold the other edge of the bathroom, just to take you from behind, again, and again, and again. The water would overflow the bathtub completely, and his seed would be securely in your womb. 

But you don’t ask him, and he doesn’t do it. He likes the sweetness of it. He likes how you look at him needily for both of your lips to meet on a kiss, passionate as your bounces and grind are slightly weaker. 

“My special girl…” he murmurs, kissing you again and again, not minding if they are pecks or if he has the opportunity for his tongue to play with yours. “I love you”

You nod, whimpering and whining as you say it back. I love you, I love you, I love you. Again and again, as if it was some prayer.

“Aemond” you moan into his mouth, 

“I know. Can you feel how good you take me?” He asks softly, kissing your chin, as he holds your waist to help you bounce on his cock. The splash of the water amuses and arouses him, and he groans at the sight of your nightgown fully soaked, glued to your figure.

“Mhm. Yes, yes, Gods, yes” you said, probably numb and already cockdrunk, just enjoying the feeling of his cock so deep inside.

“You want me to fill you, hm? To make you round with my seed, baby?” He asks, looking at you, moving to kiss your neck. 

He is also rambling at this point, as you squeeze him in the perfect way, asking to be filled with cum. He ignores how the water splashes his chest and back, how it is practically soaking the carpet under the bath, and making a mess. He has to remember how wet it might be so you two don’t slide on the floor. 

“Aemond, I… oh, Gods, Aemond!”

You little moans are music to his ears, as he holds your waist to move you down to his cock, to his taste. Not as rough as usual, but certainly desperate enough to want to cum.

“Will you cum for me, darling?” He asks, as he feels your hips grinding more desperately on him, and he throws his head back on the edge as he feels his balls tighten as well. You did wonders on him. “Cum for me and I’ll fill you up as you so much like” he promises, almost feral for you to cum. 

Your release made him moan, loudly, as he held you tight on his cock as he cums as well. He looks lazily at you, panting and whimpering still, which only serves to fuel the last remains of arousal on his abdomen, filling your womb with his cum. He hopes it takes root  and to see you grow pregnant as moons pass by.

“Thank you” you say, breathless against his chest, kissing his cheek sweetly. 

He smiles a bit, by how pleasure drunk you obviously were. He moves you slightly, to pull out from you and accommodate you on his chest, which you take comfort in. “Nothing to be thankful for. I thank you. Having sex is rather… good for when one had a bad day” he says smiling. 

You smile, and look at him, caressing his chest as you remain in this position, calmly breathing as he tries to stop panting. 

“Have I made it better?” You ask, softly, looking up to him.

He chuckles softly, almost amused by how ridiculous the question was.

“Just by having a sight of you, you make my day better” he says. 

Even if he was new to this whole marriage thing, even if sometimes he didn’t know you that well as your ladies-in-waiting and sometimes just allowed you to be even if it bothered him. He didn’t understand you most of the time, but he certainly adored you, very dearly. 

“I can make it even better” you say almost proudly, and he raises his eyebrow, looking at you laying on his chest. The water wasn’t even hot anymore, but more cold than he could bear. 

“Oh, how so?” He asks amused. “Did you claim a dragon? Only that can top the amazing moment that we just-”

“I am with child” you say simply, looking at him with a smile. 

He stops on his tracks, and looks at you as he takes in what you said. He blinks, looking at you, and you smile awkwardly at him. Was he happy? The prospect always puts him in a good mood. But maybe it wasn’t as you thought? One thing was words, and other actions.

You watch his eye as he seems to have hundreds of thought per second, his face slight confused as he frowns a bit, before his lips turn into smile full of disbelief.

“Are you joking?” 

“No... Maester Orwyle informed me this morning” you say softly. “He says that probably our wedding night was fruitful. I don't know. I don't look that pregnant, after these months. We have to figure it out in these days, so we can see when the birth is due... It's funny, because at first we thought it was from the sickness, that I got the worst part… but I just happened to be sick and pregnant”

That's why Maester Orwyle looked at him with a slight smirk as he helped desinfect his arm after training. You probably asked him to keep the secret so you could tell him.

That's why there was something off about you. He couldn't get exactly what, but something was off. It made sense, how nervous you were and how you tried to tell him before, but he was a fool to not notice it.

“Oh, my love…” he says, as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly to him. “Oh… I don’t… I... What can I even say to that?”

He is surprised, and he can’t believe it. You were pregnant. You actually were. His little offspring, growing in your womb right at this moment. Your stomach was not firm by any mean, he couldn't decipher it even if he liked so.

“That is… That is the best thing anyone has ever told me” he admits, chuckling a bit in surprise. “You are going to be a mother. And you are going to make me a father” 

"We are, indeed" You say smiling to him. "In some months, it will be me, you and a weeping babe"

He can feel his nose burn as he smiles, the image on his head as he forces himself not to cry of happiness, a weird chuckle comes out of his mouth.

"You are right" he says looking at you. "So, you are definitely moving to my chambers now, aren't you? No more personal chambers, no more confinement when sick. You are not leaving my side, not you or our little dragon" He states nodding, not for discussion. He can't have you just wandering around without him near to protect both of you.

He smiles, as you giggle. His day certainly got better, all thanks to you. His hands caress your back soothingly, as he is just... happy. He forgets about his horrible day, how his ankle still hurts or how his scar stings on his cheek and forehead as he smiles. What is that compared to the joy of knowing that he will be a father? A father to your children as well?

“Now, how come Lady Westerling got my pregnant wife sick?” he teases you as you roll your eyes. “She is in so much trouble, who does she think she is? Both my wife and my sweet baby? Oh, she is not going to see sunlight ever again-”

“Aemond!” you giggle, but he smooches your cheek with kisses that only makes your giggles grow louder.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Collision

Christmas Special🎄

Yujin x Male Reader

word count: 16K

The driveway crunches under your tires, the snow thick and fresh, the icy wind biting at your face the second you step out of the car. It smells like home—pine trees and the faint whiff of wood smoke from the chimney. But none of it feels comforting. The weight in your stomach isn’t from your bag slung over your shoulder; it’s dread.

Christmas is supposed to be easy, right? Some lights, shitty jokes from your dad, a pile of gifts no one really needs. But this year? No, this year is a fucking curveball. Your dad remarried. Out of nowhere. Surprise! He’s got a wife, and she’s got a daughter. You haven’t even met them yet. They could be anyone. Strangers, stuck in your house, calling it theirs. What if they don’t like you? 

Worse—what if they do?

The front door swings open before you even reach it, and there’s your dad, grinning like he’s already three spiked eggnogs deep. “Hey, kiddo!” he booms, pulling you into a bear hug that smells like aftershave and nostalgia. You pat his back awkwardly, your fingers cold and stiff.

Inside, the house is warm, almost stifling, and decked out like Christmas threw up everywhere—tinsel, garlands, the works. You catch a glimpse of the tree in the living room, its blinking lights like a sugar rush for your eyes. You put your bag on the floor for a moment.

That's when you see one of them.  

Your stepmother’s standing in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a towel, her smile wide but a little hesitant. She’s tall, polished, the kind of woman who looks like she’s never eaten a carb without guilt. She steps forward, offers a hand. “Good evening, sweetheart. So nice to finally meet you.” Her voice is smooth, polite. You shake her hand, mumbling your name and something about being pleased to meet her as well.

But your eyes slide past her, drawn like a goddamn magnet, and there she is.

Yujin. 

Yes, her.

It’s like getting punched in the gut. She leans against the doorway, arms crossed, lips curled in that same fucking smirk you’ve had nightmares about. Her black hair falls over one shoulder, her skin flawless, her legs impossibly long in ripped jeans that should be illegal. She hasn’t changed, except maybe she’s hotter now, and isn’t that just the ultimate middle finger from the universe?

“Hey, sweetheart,” she says, her voice low and syrupy, and it knocks the air out of you. Her smile widens as your brain short-circuits. “So nice to finally meet my stepbrother.”

You can’t even answer. 

Your throat’s dry, your palms clammy. All the memories come rushing back—her cornering you by your locker, stealing your homework, making you trip in front of half the school. She was your personal tormentor, a one-girl wrecking crew of humiliation. 

And now? 

Now she’s in your house.

You force your legs to move, stepping forward to shake her hand, because what the fuck else are you supposed to do? But she doesn’t take it. Instead, she pulls you into a hug. A hug. Her body presses against yours, warm and soft and so fucking wrong, and then she leans in, her breath hot against your ear.

“God, you’re still such a little bitch,” she whispers, her voice so quiet only you can hear. “This is gonna be so much fun.”

Your heart’s slamming in your chest, your hands shaking as you pull away, trying to act normal. But she’s watching you with that sly grin, her eyes sparkling like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. 

“Dinner’s almost ready,” your dad says, oblivious to the tension in the room. “Why don’t you kids catch up?”

Yujin winks at you. “Yeah, let’s catch up,” she says sweetly. Too sweetly.

You nod, because what else can you do? Christmas Eve has already become your funeral. The nightmare’s just started, and there’s no waking up from this one. 

“Err, sure, I'll just keep my stuff in my room.” 

I'll help you!" exclaims Yujin, the altruist.

“You don’t have to—” you start, your voice cracking as Yujin plucks your bag off the floor like it weighs nothing. 

“Don’t be stupid,” she cuts you off, grinning wide enough to show teeth. “What kind of stepsister would I be if I didn’t help my adorable little stepbrother settle in?”

Her tone drips with mock sweetness, and you glance toward your dad, silently pleading for rescue, but he’s too busy smiling like a proud idiot. Your stepmother nudges him with her elbow, murmuring something about how nice it is to see the two of you bonding. 

You want to scream.

“I can handle it,” you try again, grabbing for the bag, but Yujin just tilts it out of reach and turns toward the stairs.

“Don’t be rude,” she says over her shoulder, her smirk still firmly in place. “Lead the way, champ.”

You have no choice but to trudge up the stairs, Yujin trailing behind you with your bag. You can practically feel her eyes burning into the back of your neck. Your old room’s at the end of the hall, unchanged except for the faint smell of mothballs and abandonment. You push the door open and step inside, already imagining locking it and barricading it with a chair. 

But before you can say a word, Yujin’s behind you, kicking the door shut with the heel of her boot. The sharp click of the latch sends a shiver down your spine.

“Well,” she says, dropping your bag onto the bed with a heavy thud. “This is cozy. Still jerking off to the same anime posters, or did college finally level you up?”

Your cheeks go hot instantly, and you spin to face her. “Shut up,” you snap, sharper than you mean to, but it just makes her grin wider.

“There’s that fire,” she purrs, stepping closer, her dark eyes glittering with amusement. “I was starting to think college turned you into a total bore.”

You take a deep breath, forcing your voice to stay calm. Mature. “Did you know?” you ask, your fingers curling into fists at your sides. “Before today. Did you know I was—” You can’t even finish the sentence. The words feel too ridiculous. Too impossible.

“Your dad’s son?” she finishes for you, arching a perfect eyebrow. “Obviously. He showed me this cute little picture of you two together. Big grins, matching dorky Christmas sweaters. I thought I was gonna piss myself!"

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “So you’ve been planning this.”

“Planning?” She tilts her head, mock-innocent. “Oh, no, stepbrother. I’ve just been… looking forward to it. Every day since I found out.” She pauses, leaning in until you can smell her shampoo, something sharp and floral that makes your head spin. “You should’ve seen the look on your face downstairs. Priceless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to hold your ground. “You’re acting like we’re still in high school,” you say, your voice steady, even though you’re sweating bullets. “We’re not kids anymore. Can you try acting like an adult for five minutes?”

“Hmm.” She taps a finger against her chin, pretending to think. “Nope. Too boring.”

You want to scream again, but instead you sit on the edge of your bed, burying your face in your hands. “What do you want, Yujin?” you mumble through your fingers. “Why are you like this?”

“Why am I like this?” she echoes, feigning shock. She perches on the bed next to you, so close her knee brushes yours. “I’m like this because it’s fun, dummy. Look at you. You’re so easy.”

“I’m not—” You stop yourself, clenching your jaw. “Can we just… not?”

“Not what? Talk about college? Your big, important life now?” She rolls her eyes, leaning back on her palms. “Alright, let’s hear it. Tell me all about your boring classes and your boring friends.”

“It’s not boring,” you mutter, glaring at her. “I’m doing well. Better than high school, anyway.”

“Well, that’s a low fucking bar.” She smirks, nudging your shoulder. “C’mon, I’m kidding. Lighten up.”

You sigh, leaning back against the headboard. “Fine. What about you, then? What are you doing with your life, besides making mine hell?”

“Oh, you know.” She waves a hand lazily. “This and that. I’ve got a part-time job. Still deciding what I want to do long-term. For now, I’m focusing on hobbies.”

“Hobbies,” you repeat, narrowing your eyes. “Like tormenting me?”

“Bingo.” She winks, crossing her legs and making herself way too comfortable on your bed. “But seriously, I’ve mellowed out. College must��ve made you soft.”

You bristle at the jab, but you don’t take the bait. Not this time. “Can you just—can you try to be normal? Just for Christmas?”

“Normal?” She laughs. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re in my house now. Normal’s not on the menu.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. 

This is going to be the longest Christmas of your life.

“Remember that time I locked you in the janitor’s closet during lunch?” Yujin says, lounging across your bed like she owns it, her smile is as sharp as ever, her voice dripping with nostalgia. “You cried so loud, the janitor thought the fire alarm was going off.”

You stiffen, gripping your knees so tight your knuckles turn white. “I didn’t cry,” you mutter, though your face burns hot at the memory. You’d been pounding on the door, desperate to get out, and yeah, maybe your voice cracked a little, but crying…? No way.

“Oh, you definitely cried,” she shoots back, her grin widening. “Tears streaming down your nerdy little face, begging for someone to let you out. It was adorable.”

“It was traumatic,” you snap, glaring at her. “I missed half my math test because of you.”

“Half your math test?” She gasps, mocking a look of horror. “God forbid! How did you survive without your precious GPA?”

“Can you not?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Why do you think this is funny? You made my life a nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” She laughs, the sound light and cruel. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad. You’re acting like I burned your house down or something.”

“It felt like it,” you grumble under your breath.

She smirks, propping herself up on one elbow. “You know, I was doing you a favor. Toughening you up. Making sure you didn’t grow up to be a total pushover.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, thanks for that. Really shaped me into a beacon of confidence.”

She leans closer, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’re welcome.”

“God, you are a sociopath,” you mutter, turning away to stare at the wall. You feel her gaze burning into the back of your head, like she’s trying to decide whether to poke the bear or let it simmer.

“So,” she says after a beat, her tone turning mock casual, “what about that time I replaced all your locker stuff with tampons? Classic, right?”

You whip around, your face a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Classic? That was humiliating. Everyone laughed at me for weeks.”

“Months,” she corrects with a smirk. “Come on, though, you’ve got to admit it was creative.”

“Creative?” You bark out a laugh, bitter and sad. “You literally ruined my high school experience.”

“And yet here you are,” she says, spreading her arms as if presenting you. “Still alive. Still kicking. Still, uh… well, you.”

You glare at her, trying to ignore the smug look on her face. “How do you even live with yourself?”

“Easily,” she says with a shrug. “I’m amazing.”

Before you can retort, your dad’s voice booms from downstairs, calling your name. “Dinner’s ready! You two coming down?”

Yujin hops off the bed, stretching her arms over her head like she didn’t just spend the last ten minutes reliving your personal hell. “Better not keep the old man waiting,” she says, sauntering toward the door. She pauses, glancing over her shoulder with a sly grin. “Try not to trip on the way down, nerd.”

You grit your teeth, swallowing the retort that’s bubbling up. You can feel your temper boiling under the surface, but you clamp down on it. She’s not worth it. Not here, not now. 

Following her downstairs, you try to shake off the memories, but they cling to you like cobwebs. Her laugh echoes in your ears, and for a moment, you wonder if this Christmas can get any worse. 

Something tells you it can.

—

The dining room is warm, the table set with enough food to feed a small army: a roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce—the works. The smell alone would normally make your stomach rumble, but you can’t think about eating right now. You’re too busy trying to disappear into your chair while Yujin holds court.

She’s sitting directly across from you, a glass of wine in her hand and a mischievous glint in her eye. Your dad and stepmother are at either end of the table, smiling like this is a damn Coca-Cola commercial. They keep stealing glances between you and Yujin, clearly delighted that their kids are finally “bonding.”

“So,” your dad starts, cutting into his turkey, “how are you two getting along so far? Hitting it off?”

Yujin’s grin stretches wider as she sets her glass down, her fingers trailing along the rim. “Oh, we’re getting along great,” she says, her voice sugary sweet, but her eyes are locked on you, daring you to contradict her. “It’s like no time has passed at all.”

“That’s wonderful,” your stepmother gushes, clasping her hands together, apparently without noticing the subtext of her daughter's speech. “I was hoping you two would click. It’s so important, you know? Especially with blended families.”

Your dad nods enthusiastically, raising his glass. “To new beginnings!” 

You mumble something noncommittal, raising your water glass just to avoid looking rude, but Yujin doesn’t miss a beat.

“New beginnings,” she echoes, winking at you over the rim of her wine glass. “Though, really, it’s more like picking up where we left off.”

The words hang in the air like a challenge, and your stomach churns. You glance at your dad, praying he doesn’t take the bait, but of course, he does.

“Oh?” he says, perking up. “Did you two know each other before?”

Yujin leans back in her chair, crossing her legs, her expression pure amusement. “Oh, sure. We were… friends in high school.” She emphasizes the word “friends” in a way that makes you want to crawl under the table and die.

Your dad’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? That’s incredible! What are the odds?”

“It’s like fate,” Yujin says, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. “We were absolutely inseparable. Weren’t we, little brother?”

You choke on your mashed potatoes, coughing violently. Your stepmother hands you a napkin, her face full of concern, but Yujin just watches, her smile never faltering. 

“You okay, champ?” she asks, tilting her head like she’s genuinely worried. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” you croak, your voice raw. “Just… went down the wrong pipe.”

“Well, don’t die on us,” your dad jokes, oblivious to the tension. “So, you two were close, huh? Why didn’t you ever mention this before?”

Yujin answers before you can even open your mouth. “Oh, you know how it is. There are so many things we need to remember daily... And High school’s such a whirlwind. But yeah, we spent a lot of time together. In fact…” She pauses, letting the suspense build as she picks up her fork, stabbing a piece of turkey. “Some might say I had a… profound influence on him.”

You grit your teeth so hard you’re surprised your molars don’t shatter. “That’s… one way to put it,” you mutter.

“Don’t be modest,” Yujin teases, pointing her fork at you. “You were so dedicated. Always trying to impress me, always going out of your way to… help.” She says the last word with a sly smile, and you feel your face burning.

Your dad looks between the two of you, clearly delighted. “Well, that’s just fantastic. See? This was meant to be.”

“It really was,” Yujin agrees, taking another sip of wine. “I mean, what are the chances? You, me, and now—” She gestures around the table dramatically. “One big, happy family.”

“Exactly,” your stepmother says, beaming. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see you two getting along. It’s like a Christmas miracle!”

You force a tight-lipped smile, shoving a forkful of green beans into your mouth to avoid saying something you’ll regret. Meanwhile, Yujin’s smirk grows impossibly wider, like she’s savoring every second of your misery.

“Tell us more about this,” your dad says, clearly eager to keep the conversation going, “what kind of stuff did you two do together back in high school? Any fun stories?”

Your heart sinks. Before you can come up with an excuse to dodge the question, Yujin leans forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, so many stories,” she says, her voice light and breezy. “Like the time we… Oh, but I wouldn’t want to embarrass him. You know how sensitive he is.”

You glare at her, your hands clenched into fists under the table. “I’m not sensitive,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended.

Yujin gasps, her hand flying to her chest in mock surprise. “Wow, defensive much? Relax, stepbrother. We’re just reminiscing. It’s healthy.”

Your stepmother chuckles, keeping a conspiratorial and amused expression with your father. “They’re just like siblings already, aren’t they?”

“Just like siblings,” Yujin echoes, her tone syrupy and smug. She catches your eye across the table, her smirk so infuriatingly smug it makes your blood boil. “Don’t you think, bro?”

You grind your teeth, stabbing your turkey with unnecessary force. “Sure. Just like siblings.”

The meal continues, the conversation flowing easily for everyone except you. Every time you start to relax, Yujin finds a new way to dig her claws in—mentioning a “funny” story that conveniently paints you in the worst possible light, brushing her foot against yours under the table, or throwing out a sarcastic comment every time you try to speak.

By the time dessert rolls around, you’re ready to fake food poisoning just to escape. But your parents? They’re over the moon. As far as they’re concerned, this is the happiest Christmas dinner ever.

—

The circus of horrors ends in a swirl of polite conversation and over-loud laughter, the kind that covers up awkward silences and unspoken tension. You pick at the crumbs of your dessert plate until you can’t justify sitting there anymore. Your dad, ever the enthusiast, claps you on the shoulder as everyone starts to disperse. His eyes are bright, his cheeks flushed from a few too many glasses of wine.  

"Hey, kiddo," he says, steering you toward the living room while Yujin and your stepmother clean up the table. "Can we talk for a second?"  

You stiffen but nod, letting him guide you to the couch. He plops down, gesturing for you to do the same, and you oblige, your hands fidgeting in your lap.  

“Look,” he starts, his tone softening in that way parents do when they’re trying to get serious. “I just want to say how proud I am of you. I know it’s not easy, this whole blended family thing. But seeing you and Yujin getting along? It means the world to me.”  

You swallow hard, guilt twisting in your gut like a knife. “Yeah,” you say, forcing a tight smile. “She’s… great.”  

“She really is,” he says. “And you, you’ve grown up so much. I know high school wasn’t easy for you, but look at you now—college, a bright future. I couldn’t be prouder.”  

Your chest tightens. How are you supposed to tell him that his perfect stepdaughter was your high school tormentor? That every smile she throws your way feels like a dagger aimed at your sanity? 

You can’t. 

It would ruin everything.  

So you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thanks, Dad.”  

He pulls you into a quick hug, ruffling your hair like he used to when you were a kid. “Alright, get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day—Our first Christmas morning as a new family!”  

You force another smile, mumbling something about heading to bed. And with that, this one-sidedly joyful conversation ends. 

—

Your room feels like a sanctuary as you close the door behind you, the silence wrapping around you like a blanket. You set up your laptop on the bed, scrolling through animated movies until you land on The Lion King. The opening notes of “Circle of Life” fill the room, and for the first time all evening, you start to relax.  

You’re halfway through the Mufasa's death when you hear a knock on the door. 

You freeze, your heart sinking. 

There’s only one person it could be.  

With a sigh, you pause the movie, put the laptop on the desk and shuffle to the door, pulling it open just enough to peek through. Sure enough, there’s Yujin, leaning against the doorframe in pajamas that leave very little to the imagination—short shorts that barely cover her thighs and a tank top so tight it’s almost transparent.  

“What do you want?” you ask, trying to keep your eyes on her face and not the way her shorts cling to her hips.  

She smirks, tilting her head like she’s already won. “Relax, nerd. I just need to borrow your toothbrush.”  

You blink, sure you misheard her. “My toothbrush?”  

“Yeah.” She pushes past you into the room without waiting for an invitation, looking around like she owns the place. “I forgot mine at my mom’s place, and I’m not going to bed without brushing my teeth.”  

You turn to face her, incredulous. “You’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my toothbrush.”  

She glances at your laptop screen, her smirk widening when she sees the paused scene. “Wait—are you watching The Lion King?”  

“Yeah, so?” You fold your arms, trying to deflect.  

Her laugh is sharp, cutting. “Oh my God, you’re such a child. What’s next? Gonna snuggle up with a teddy bear and sing 'Hakuna Matata'?"  

“Classic Disney movies are comforting,” you snap, your cheeks burning. “They’re timeless. Not that you’d understand.”  

“Comforting?” She raises an eyebrow, her grin downright wicked. “You’re pathetic. Do you still sleep with a nightlight too?”  

“At least I’m not barging into people’s rooms asking to share their toothbrush,” you fire back. “That’s disgusting.”  

She shrugs, unbothered. “What’s the big deal? We’re practically family now.”  

“That doesn’t make it okay!”  

“Well, I’m not going to bed without brushing my teeth.”  

“Use your finger,” you suggest, exasperated.  

She gasps, clutching her chest in mock horror. “Oh, the audacity! What kind of savage do you take me for?”  

“An entitled one,” you mutter, regretting it the second it’s out of your mouth.  

Her eyes narrow, but her smirk doesn’t waver. She steps closer, the air in the room suddenly feeling heavier. “Careful, stepbrother,” she says, her voice low, almost teasing. “You wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings.”  

You swallow hard, stepping back instinctively as she invades your space. “I—just… go ask your mom or something.”  

“Nah,” she says, taking another step forward, her eyes locking onto yours. “I like seeing you squirm too much.”  

Your back hits the edge of your desk, your laptop wobbling precariously. The paused image of Simba and Mufasa feels absurdly out of place, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Yujin as she leans in, her smirk turning predatory.  

“So,” she whispers, her voice dripping with false innocence. “Are you gonna lend me that toothbrush, or do I have to get creative?”   

You're tired of being trapped in this kind of situation and know that if you don't make a change, nothing will be different. Decided, you straighten your spine, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare her down.

Enough is enough. 

You’re not the same awkward, scared kid she pushed around in high school. “No,” you say, your voice firm. “You’re not using my toothbrush. Ever.”  

Her eyes narrow even further, her smirk faltering for the first time. “What’s your fucking problem, dude?”  

“My problem?” You laugh. “My problem is that you think it’s normal to walk into someone’s room and ask to scrape your nasty teeth with their toothbrush.”  

Her jaw drops, her eyes flashing with indignation. “Nasty?! Excuse me, but my teeth are perfectly clean!”  

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, sure. If you count all the lying and cheating you’ve done with that mouth...”  

Her lips part, and for a moment, she looks genuinely offended. Then her expression hardens, her voice dripping with anger. “You’re such a little bitch, you know that? Sitting here in your sad little room, watching Disney movies like a five-year-old.”  

“And you’re a dumb bitch,” you snap back, your temper flaring. “You only made it out of high school because you stole my homework and cheated on every test. I bet you don't know how to solve even a first degree equation!” 

The second the word leaves your mouth, you know you’ve fucked up.  

Yujin goes very still, her smirk vanishing. Her dark eyes fix on you, cold and unblinking, and for the first time, you feel a genuine spike of fear.  

“What did you just call me?” she says, her voice dangerously low.  

You open your mouth, trying to backpedal, but nothing comes out. She steps closer, her presence suddenly towering.

“I said,” she repeats, each word deliberate, “what did you just call me?”  

“I… I—I didn’t mean—”  

She cuts you off with a sharp laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You’ve got some balls, stepbrother. Calling a woman a bitch like that. You think you’re tough now, huh? Big college guy? Watching The Lion King and talking shit?”  

You hold up your hands, trying to de-escalate. “Yujin, come on, I didn’t mean it like—”  

“I’ll teach you,” she interrupts, her voice dropping into a dangerous purr. “I’ll teach you to never call a woman a bitch again.”  

Before you can react, she moves. It happens so fast, your brain barely processes it—her hands on your arm, a twist, a pull, and suddenly your back hits the floor with a dull thud.  

"Jesus Christ!” you yelp, gasping for air.  

She’s on you in an instant, her knees pressing into your shoulders as she straddles you. “What’s the matter, nerd?” she taunts, leaning down so her face is inches from yours. “Not so mouthy now, huh?”  

“Get off me!” you sputter, squirming beneath her, but she’s stronger than she looks.  

“Oh, no,” she says, her grin returning with a sadistic edge. “You’re not getting off that easy.”  

Her thighs shift, and before you know it, they’re wrapped around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you panic. You grab at her legs, trying to push her off, but it’s like grappling with steel.  

“Holy shit, Yujin! What the hell are you doing?”  

“Teaching you a lesson,” she says, her voice mockingly sweet. “Say it. Say you’ll never call me a bitch again.”  

“Fine, fine!” you choke out, your hands clawing at her thighs. “I won’t! Just let go!”  

But she doesn’t let go. If anything, she squeezes harder, a triumphant laugh spilling from her lips. “Oh, no. Not until you say it properly. Beg me, stepbrother. Let’s hear it.”  

“Yujin, come on!” Your voice is muffled, your vision starting to blur. “You’re insane!”  

“And you’re pathetic,” she counters, her smirk widening. “Now say it. Please, Yujin, I’m sorry for being such a little bitch.”  

You groan, your pride warring with your desperation for oxygen. But as her thighs tighten again, cutting off what little air you have left, you know you don’t have a choice.  

“Fine!” you gasp, your voice ragged. “Please, Yujin, I’m sorry for being such a little bitch!”  

She laughs, a rich, mocking sound that vibrates through her thighs where they clamp loosely around your neck. Her long, toned legs feel impossibly strong, even though she isn’t really applying pressure. The mere implication that she could is enough to make you break out in a cold sweat.

“Sorry?” she repeats, tilting her head like she’s genuinely considering your words. “Hmm, doesn’t sound very convincing. Say it again, but this time really mean it. Oh, and call me ma’am.”  

Your face flushes hot, humiliation creeping up your neck. “I-I’m sorry, ma’am,” you stammer, hating how meek you sound. “Please, I swear I won’t say anything like that again.”  

She smirks, her thighs shifting slightly, the soft warmth of her skin pressing against the sides of your head. “That’s better,” she purrs, “but we’re not quite done, are we? Will you lend me your toothbrush now, or do I have to keep teaching you some respect?”  

You grit your teeth, anger flaring despite your position. “I’m not lending you my toothbrush, Yujin! That’s disgusting.”  

Her expression darkens, but there’s a playful glint in her eyes. “Wrong answer,” she says sweetly, leaning forward so her weight presses just a bit more against your throat.  

“Wait, wait!” you gasp, your hands instinctively grabbing at her thighs. “Fine! Take it, okay? Just let me go!”  

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She loosens her hold, but she doesn’t get up. Instead, her gaze drops, and her grin grows wider. “Oh my god,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery. “Are you seriously hard right now?”  

Your heart stops. You glance down in horror and realize that, yes, the bulge in your pants is painfully obvious.  

“It’s not—” you start to protest, but she cuts you off, shifting her thighs back into position.  

“Don’t even try to deny it,” she coos, leaning in closer. “Look at you, blushing like a little schoolboy. Are you actually enjoying this? Do you like being choked by my thighs?”  

“N-no!” you stammer, though your voice falters as her thighs press just a fraction tighter, the plushness of her skin enveloping your cheeks.  

“Liar,” she says, her voice low and teasing. “Come on, admit it. I can feel you squirming, and I can see that pathetic little boner of yours. Just say it—you like it, don’t you?”  

You try to shake your head, but her legs hold you in place. “I don’t—”  

“Say it,” she interrupts, her tone firm but still playful. “Or I’ll keep you here all night. Admit that you like how warm and soft my thighs are. Tell me you’re a submissive little perv.”  

Your resistance crumbles under her relentless teasing. Your face burns as you mumble, “Okay… fine. It’s kind of… nice.”  

Her laughter is bright and triumphant. “That’s what I thought. You’re a submissive little slut, aren’t you?”  

You close your eyes, wishing the floor would swallow you up, but she’s relentless. Her thighs move between your face, forcing you to look up at her.  

“So,” she drawls, “are you a virgin?”  

“No!” you blurt out immediately, your face heating up.  

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “No? Really? I don’t buy it.” Her grin widens as she watches you squirm. “Come on, don’t bullshit me. Who the hell would fuck you?”  

Your mouth opens, then closes. “I’m not lying,” you manage. “I’ve had sex before! In college.”  

Yujin bursts into laughter, loud and mocking, her head tilting back in genuine amusement. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious. You? Getting laid? Please.” She leans in closer. “What was her name, huh? Bet she doesn’t exist. Face it—no girl, not even the most desperate, would fuck a loser like you.”  

Her words hit harder than you expect, and the shame wells up in your chest. But she turns your chin with her thighs, forcing you to face her again.

“Aww,” she coos, feigning sympathy. “Did I hurt your little feelings? Well, maybe I’m feeling generous tonight. Must be the Christmas spirit or something.” She lets out a low chuckle, her thighs rubbing your neck slowly, almost like a massage. “Tell you what. Since you’re clearly a pathetic little virgin, how about I take that burden off your hands?”  

Your eyes widen, your body betraying you as your erection presses harder against your pants. She notices immediately, her smirk turning wicked. “Oh, you like that idea, huh?”  

“W-wait,” you stammer, but her voice cuts through yours.  

“Not so fast,” she says, her thighs flexing against your neck just enough to make your pulse spike. “Before I even consider it, you need to admit something to me.”  

“Admit what?” you ask nervously.  

She leans closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “That I’m beautiful.”  

You laugh nervously, shaking your head. “Yeah, no chance.”  

Her thighs squeeze tighter, making you gasp. “What was that?” she taunts. “You sure about that answer?”  

Your heart races as you struggle against the pressure. “Okay, okay! You’re beautiful, alright?”  

Her smile grows triumphant. “See? That wasn’t so hard. But just beautiful?”  

You hesitate, her expectant gaze burning into you. “You’re hot too,” you mutter.

She feigns surprise, pressing a hand to her chest. “Hot? Oh, you’re making me blush. What else?”  

You swallow hard, your voice trembling. “Your thighs… they’re, uh, juicy. And thick.”  

Her laughter is rich and sultry. “Juicy and thick, huh? You like being smothered by them?”  

“Yes,” you admit, your voice small.  

She grins. “What about my smile?”  

“It’s beautiful,” you say reluctantly.  

Her grin widens. “Oh, really? Didn’t you say earlier that my teeth were nasty?”  

You groan, the heat in your face unbearable. “I lied. Your teeth are… perfect.”  

She leans back slightly, studying you with an amused glint in her eye. “You’re not just saying all this so I’ll fuck you, right?”  

“No,” you insist. “It’s all true.”  

Her smirk softens into something almost curious. “Alright then. What did you think of me back in high school?”  

You try to avoid her gaze, but she won’t let you look away. “I… I don’t want to talk about it.”  

“Talk,” she demands, her thighs pressing just slightly again. “Or I’ll keep you here all night.”  

You sigh, defeated. “Fine. I had a crush on you, okay? I just… I wished you’d been nicer to me.”  

She snorts, shaking her head. “A crush? On me? That’s adorable. Why didn’t you do anything about it?”  

“Because I knew you’d never notice me,” you mumble. “I was just the guy you bullied.”  

She grins wickedly. “That’s not true. You were also good at doing my homework.” Her laugh is loud and unrepentant, and you can’t help but feel a flicker of humiliation all over again.  

Her fingers tug at the hem of her shorts. “What do you think of my pajamas?”  

You glance up at her reluctantly. The short shorts hug her hips in all the right ways, and her tank top perfectly shapes her breasts. “You look… hot,” you admit quietly.  

She smirks, clearly satisfied. “Good, because I picked them out just to tease you. But I think you’ve humiliated yourself enough for one night.” She stands, finally freeing you from her hold, and stretches languidly. “Go get on your bed. It’s going to be the best night of your life.”

Without much choice, you agree. Yujin goes to the door and locks it, then joins you. Now the bed feels smaller now with her on it, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight as Yujin stretches out, making herself comfortable like she owns the place. The Lion King is still paused on your laptop, Simba frozen trying to wake up his already lifeless father, a stark reminder of how normal your night had been before this. Your stomach flips as she looks at you with that amused smirk, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and authority.  

“So,” she says, her voice soft but teasing, “if you want me to fuck you, you’ve got to prove it.”  

“Prove it?” you echo nervously, fiddling with the edge of your blanket.  

“Yeah,” she says, sitting cross-legged now, her bare thighs on full display. “Show me you love me. Show me you’re capable of doing anything for me.”  

Your throat feels tight as you stammer, “But… isn’t this… wrong? I mean, because of our parents?”  

Yujin’s smirk deepens, and she leans forward, her face close enough that you can feel the warmth of her breath. “Who says they have to know? This can be our little secret,” she purrs, her tone dripping with mockery.  

You hesitate, your thoughts racing. She notices, of course. Yujin notices everything. “Look,” she says, her voice firm now, “I don’t fuck guys who don’t value me. If you’re not willing to worship me, I'm getting the hell out of your little room so you can jerk off to some disgusting hentai alone.

Her words sting, and before you can even formulate a response, she stretches out one long, toned leg, her foot pointed like a ballerina’s. “Here’s how this works,” she says, wiggling her toes. “If you want to cum tonight, you’re going to worship me. Like a goddess.”  

Your face burns as you stare at her foot, delicate and perfectly pedicured, her nails painted a glossy red. “I don’t… I don’t have a foot fetish,” you stammer weakly.  

Yujin rolls her eyes, laughing softly. “I don’t give a fuck if you do or not. I told you to suck my toes. So, do it.”  

You hesitate, but her expression shifts, her gaze narrowing. “Are you really going to make me repeat myself? Suck. My. Toes.”  

There’s something commanding in her tone that makes your heart race. You swallow hard, your gaze flickering to her foot. It’s undeniably… beautiful. Soft skin, high arch, perfectly shaped. Before you can overthink it, you lean forward, pressing a hesitant kiss to the top of her foot.  

She laughs, low and pleased. “Good boy. But I said suck, not kiss. Start with my toes.”  

Your hands tremble slightly as you lift her foot, her skin warm against your palms. You bring it closer, your lips brushing against her big toe. “Take it slow,” she says, leaning back on her elbows, her voice a purr. “I want to enjoy this.”  

You start tentatively, pressing kisses along her toes, your lips lingering longer each time. The scent of her lotion is faint but sweet, and you find yourself losing the initial awkwardness. Her skin is soft, smoother than you expected, and the warmth of her body feels oddly intimate.  

“Now lick,” she commands, her tone playful but firm.  

Your tongue darts out, tracing the curve of her big toe. The taste is neutral, nothing unpleasant, and as you swirl your tongue around the pad of her toe, you catch a glimpse of her face. She’s watching you intently, her lips curved into a satisfied smile.  

“See?” she says, her voice a little breathier now. “Not so bad, is it?”  

You don’t respond, too focused on the task. Your lips wrap around her toe, sucking gently, and she lets out a soft hum of approval. “That’s it,” she murmurs. “Use your tongue more. I want to feel it everywhere.”  

You move to her other toes, sucking and licking each one, the wet sounds almost obscene in the quiet room. Her foot flexes slightly in your grip, and you realize you’re gripping her ankle like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.  

“Good boy,” she says again, her tone dripping with condescension. “I think you’re actually starting to enjoy this.”  

You hate how right she is. 

There’s something strangely intimate about the act, the way her soft skin feels against your lips, the way her low murmurs of approval send a thrill through you. You glance up at her, your cheeks burning, and she smirks.  

“Don’t stop now,” she teases. “You’re just getting started. Show me how much you appreciate me.”  

Your tongue trails along the arch of her foot, your kisses growing bolder. Her laughter fills the room, light and mocking, but there’s a genuine note of pleasure there too.  

“Damn,” she says, wiggling her toes against your lips. “You’re a natural. Maybe you do have a foot fetish after all.”  

You shake your head, her toes still in your mouth, and she laughs harder. “Whatever you say, loser,” she purrs. “Just keep going. You’re doing great.”

Your lips drag slowly along the arch of her foot, tongue gliding up the curve, and every second feels surreal. You’re too deep into it now to stop. Yujin lounges back, one hand resting lazily on her stomach while the other dips beneath the waistband of her tiny shorts.  

Her movement catches your attention, and you pause for a fraction of a second before her voice cuts through the air. “Did I say you could stop?”  

“N-no,” you stammer, your breath warm against her skin.  

“Then don’t,” she snaps, but her tone is lighter now, almost teasing. Her fingers shift under her shorts, her hips shifting slightly. Her smirk widens when she sees your gaze flicker to the way her hand moves. “Eyes on my foot,” she orders. “You’re not done worshipping me.”  

You swallow hard and lean back in, your tongue running along the side of her foot now, your lips brushing her toes again, sucking gently. You hear her soft, satisfied sigh, and the sound sends heat pooling in your gut.  

“God, you’re really into this, huh?” she purrs, her fingers clearly working beneath the fabric of her shorts. “Look at you, completely devoted. It’s actually kind of cute… in a pathetic, loser-way.”  

Her words should sting, but instead, they just make you want to keep going, to prove yourself. You press firmer kisses along her foot, your tongue tracing every curve and ridge. Your hands tremble as they grip her ankle, and your own arousal throbs insistently, impossible to ignore.  

“You’re so fucking hot,” you blurt out suddenly, the words tumbling from your mouth before you can stop them.  

Yujin giggles, a sound that’s both mocking and genuinely pleased. “I know,” she says smugly, her hips rolling subtly as her fingers continue their work. “But it’s cute of you to say it out loud. Keep going, loser. You’re doing great.”  

Your mouth moves faster now, kissing and licking with more fervor, as if her approval is the only thing that matters. Your hand drifts down to your own pants, palming yourself through the fabric as you watch her.  

She notices, of course. “Oh, look at you,” she teases, her voice low and syrupy. “Touching yourself already? You’re so fucking easy. What are you even thinking about right now?”  

“You,” you admit breathlessly, the words spilling out in a rush. “You’re so hot, Yujin. You’re making me—”  

“Making you what?” she interrupts, her smirk growing.  

“Making me so fucking hard,” you say, your voice cracking slightly.  

Her laughter is soft, sultry, and her hand moves faster under her shorts. “Yeah? And you’re making my pussy so wet,” she says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Look at you, on your knees, sucking my toes like a good little boy. How could I not get turned on?”  

Your breath hitches at her words, and you press your palm harder against yourself, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “You look so fucking good,” you mutter.  

She grins lazily, her fingers disappearing deeper beneath her shorts. “Keep going,” she says, her tone commanding. “Make me even wetter. Prove you’re worth fucking.”  

You obey, diving back into your task with renewed determination. Her soft moans fill the room now, and every sound she makes sends shivers down your spine. You can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe how easily she has you wrapped around her finger.  

“God, you’re pathetic,” she murmurs, but there’s a heat in her voice that makes it sound like a compliment. “And you fucking love it, don’t you?”  

You nod against her foot, her skin warm and soft against your lips. “I do,” you admit, your voice cracking slightly. “I love it. I love… you.”  

She freezes for a moment, her fingers pausing their movements. 

Then her smirk returns, sharper than ever. “Of course you do,” she says simply, her voice like velvet. “Now keep going, bitch.”

Your tongue glides across her toes, your saliva leaving them shiny and glistening. Yujin watches with a smirk that grows wider each time she flexes her foot and you eagerly follow, sucking and licking every inch. Her toes are damp, her skin slick and wet, and by now the faint taste of her lotion feels familiar on your tongue.  

“Wow,” she says mockingly, her voice dripping with amusement. “You’re really committed to this, aren’t you? My foot’s fucking drooling, and you look like you’re ready to propose to it.”  

You look up, her smug expression only making your cock twitch harder against the confines of your pants. Your lips hover over her big toe for a moment as you catch your breath, her words hitting something deep inside you.  

“You want to keep going?” she asks, tilting her head as her fingers lazily tap against her thigh. “Or are you finally gonna admit how much you’re loving this?”  

You don’t answer, at least not verbally. Instead, you lean down again, kissing the top of her foot, sucking on her toes, letting your lips linger longer this time. It’s humiliating, sure, but there’s something addictive about the way she looks at you, the way she controls every second of this.  

After a while, she pulls her foot away suddenly, smirking when she sees the disappointment flash across your face. “Alright, enough foreplay,” she says, her voice playful but firm. “Take off your pants.”  

You blink, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”  

“You heard me,” she says, sitting up straighter. “Pants. Underwear. Off. Now.”  

Your hands hesitate at the waistband of your pants, but her sharp gaze cuts through any lingering doubts. You nod, fumbling as you undo the button and slide them down, your boxers following soon after.  

The moment your cock springs free, Yujin’s eyebrows shoot up, and for the first time, her cocky smirk falters. “Holy shit,” she says, her tone caught somewhere between surprise and appreciation. “For a loser virgin nerd, you’ve got a pretty big, thick cock. What a waste.”  

You don’t know whether to feel proud or embarrassed, so you just stand there awkwardly, your hands twitching at your sides as she leans forward slightly, inspecting you like she’s trying to decide what to do next.  

“Alright,” she says, waving you back toward the bed. “Lie down. I wanna play with you a little first.”  

You obey, climbing onto the bed, your heart racing as she stretches out on the opposite side of the bed. Her foot, still slick with your saliva, presses gently against the base of your cock. The sudden contact makes you gasp, and she giggles, clearly enjoying your reaction.  

“Damn,” she teases, slowly sliding her foot up along your length. “Look at you. You’re already leaking, and I’ve barely touched you.”  

You bite your lip, your breath hitching as she presses her other foot against you, sandwiching your cock between both of them. The wetness from your earlier efforts makes every movement smooth and almost unbearably good.  

“How’s that feel?” she asks, her tone mockingly sweet as her feet start to move, stroking you with slow, deliberate motions.  

“F-fucking amazing,” you admit, your voice shaking.  

She laughs, her toes curling slightly as she drags them up the shaft. “Of course it does. I mean, look at you—getting jerked off by my feet. Bet you never imagined this happening in your wildest nerdy dreams.”  

You groan, your hips bucking slightly as her pace picks up. The wet glide of her skin against yours is intoxicating, every stroke sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.  

“Stay still,” she orders, pressing her heel against your tip just enough to make you gasp. “You move, and I stop. Got it?”  

You nod frantically, your hands gripping the sheets as you fight to keep yourself in place. “Y-yeah, I got it,” you stammer.  

“Good boy,” she purrs, her voice dripping with condescension as her feet resume their slow, teasing movements.  

The room fills with the obscene sound of her slick feet stroking you, the wetness amplifying every glide. She watches you intently, her lips curling into a smirk every time you let out a ragged moan or bite your lip to hold back a louder one.  

“Look at you,” she murmurs, her feet pressing tighter around your cock as she moves faster. “All that attitude earlier, and now you’re just a whimpering little mess. Bet you’d do anything I told you to right now, huh?”  

“Y-yes,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.  

She grins triumphantly, her toes brushing against your tip in a way that makes your entire body shudder. “That’s what I thought,” she says, her voice low and teasing. “You’re such a good little loser when you’re like this. Makes me almost want to keep you around.”  

You groan, your hips jerking slightly despite her earlier warning. Her smirk widens as she presses her feet down harder, the added pressure making you gasp.  

“Getting close already?” she asks, her tone dripping with amusement. “Wow, you really are pathetic. Guess I’d better slow down, huh?”  

“Please don’t,” you beg, your voice breaking.  

Her laugh is low and wicked as she leans back slightly, her feet never stopping their relentless motion. “I dunno,” she says playfully. “Maybe I’ll let you cum… if you beg me properly.”  

Her words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you can’t help but moan. “Please, Yujin. Please let me cum. I’ll do anything you want.”  

Her smirk softens into something almost approving. “That’s better,” she says, her feet stroking you faster now. “Now, let’s see just how much of a mess you can make for me.” 

Yujin’s feet slide up and down your cock with maddening precision, the slick warmth of your spit coating every inch of her smooth skin. Each movement sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your body, and her smug smirk only makes it worse. She knows exactly what she’s doing—driving you insane with a combination of physical control and that sharp tongue of hers.  

“Look at you,” she says, her voice low and dripping with mockery. “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already falling apart. You’re such a fucking mess.”  

Your hands grip the sheets tightly, your breath coming in short gasps. “Y-Yujin…” you stammer, but she doesn’t let you finish.  

“Don’t talk,” she snaps, pressing her toes against the sensitive tip of your cock. The pressure makes you moan loudly, your hips jerking against her feet. “Just moan for me like the desperate little virgin you are.”  

The words even hit you with a certain impact, but the pleasure is too overwhelming for you to even protest. “I’m not—”  

“Shut up,” she interrupts, her feet sliding faster now, the wet sounds filling the room. “Do you really think I believe that? You’re pathetic. A loser. But you’re my loser tonight, aren’t you?”  

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice barely audible.  

She smirks, clearly pleased with your response. Her hand disappears under her shorts again, and this time, she doesn’t bother to hide what she’s doing. Her fingers move rhythmically, and she lets out a soft moan, her hips rocking slightly.  

“You like this, don’t you?” she says, her voice breathy but still full of authority. “Being under me. Being humiliated by me. You missed it, didn’t you?”  

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you can’t speak. She doesn’t let up, her feet sliding faster, her toes curling around you just right. “Answer me,” she demands.  

“Yes,” you finally admit, your voice cracking as the confession spills out. “Yes, I missed it.”  

Her grin widens, her movements growing more deliberate. “Missed what, exactly? Be specific.”  

You groan, your head pressing back against the pillow. “I missed… I missed you,” you manage between ragged breaths.  

“Missed me?” she repeats, her laughter soft and condescending. “That’s cute. But what about me, huh? Did you miss being humiliated? Miss the attention I gave you? Did you miss the way I used to push you around?”  

Your chest tightens, and the words tumble out before you can stop them. “Yes! Fuck, yes, I missed it. I missed you. I missed… how aggressive you were.”  

She lets out a low, triumphant hum, her hand moving faster under her shorts as she leans forward slightly. “You missed me putting you in your place, didn’t you?”  

“Yes,” you moan, your voice desperate now.  

“And now you’re here,” she purrs, her toes pressing down against the head of your cock, drawing a strangled gasp from you. “Completely under my control. Look at you, squirming under my feet like a little bitch. I bet you’re loving every second of it.”  

“I am,” you admit.

“God, you’re such a loser,” she says, her feet sliding faster, the wet sounds growing louder. “But at least you’re my loser. Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how much you love me.”  

“I love it,” you gasp, your body trembling as you edge closer and closer to release. “I love you, Yujin. Fuck, I love you.”  

Her smirk softens slightly, just enough to make you wonder if she’s taking this all in stride or actually enjoying it as much as you are. Her toes curl around you again, and the friction pushes you right to the edge.  

“Go on, then,” she says, her voice low and sultry. “Paint my feet with your virgin load. Show me what a good little foot bitch you can be."

She speeds up her movements again, her feet working your shaft with practiced skill. The pressure builds and builds until you can't take it anymore. With a strangled cry, your orgasm explodes making you roll your eyes. 

Your cock pulses violently as thick ropes of cum shoot out, coating her soles and toes in your hot seed. She doesn't stop moving her feet, milking every last drop from your twitching member as you shake and moan helplessly.

"Holy fuck, look how much you came," Yujin laughs, spreading her toes to watch the cum drip between them. "Guess you really did need this release badly. Been saving up all this spunk just for my feet, haven't you?"  

You nod weakly, your body still trembling as the last waves of pleasure roll through you. She pulls her feet away, inspecting them with an amused grin before wiping them on the sheets.  

“Hope you’re ready,” she says, her voice light but wicked. “We’re just getting started.”  

The room feels heavy with the aftermath, the air thick with the scent of cum and sweat. You’re sprawled out on the bed, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Before you can fully recover, she leans in.  

Her face is so close that you can feel her breath on your lips, warm and teasing. Her eyes lock onto yours, a spark of mischief and something darker flickering there. Her lips brush against yours, just barely, a ghost of a touch that sends shivers down your spine.  

“Do you want me to kiss you?” she whispers, her voice low and sultry, dripping with temptation.  

“Yes,” you breathe, barely able to get the word out.  

She smirks, leaning back just a fraction. “Say it,” she demands, her tone sharp. “Say you belong to me.”  

Your heart pounds in your chest as her eyes bore into yours. “I… I belong to you,” you stammer, the words feeling both foreign and natural in your mouth.  

“Good boy,” she purrs, and then her lips crash against yours.  

It’s electrifying. Her mouth moves against yours with a mix of dominance and hunger, her lips soft but demanding. The taste of her consumes you, your head spinning as her hand cups your jaw, holding you exactly where she wants you.  

When she finally pulls back, your lips are tingling, your breath coming in shallow gasps. She studies your face with a satisfied smirk. “Was that your first kiss?”  

Your face burns, and you nod, too embarrassed to speak.  

“Holy shit,” she murmurs, her voice filled with disbelief and delight. “Your first fucking kiss. God, you’re such a loser.” Her smirk deepens, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. “But you’re my loser...”  

Her words make you shiver, and she leans in again, her lips hovering over yours. “Open your mouth,” she orders softly.  

You obey, your lips parting instinctively, and she spits directly into your mouth. The warm, salty taste coats your tongue, and before you can even process it, her mouth is on yours again.  

This time, the kiss is messier, wetter. Her tongue invades your mouth, exploring and claiming, and you can’t help but respond, your own tongue meeting hers in a clumsy but eager dance. Spit mixes and drips down your chin, but you don’t care. All that matters is her, the way she tastes, the way she’s completely consuming you.  

When she finally pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips, and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking down at you with that same infuriatingly smug grin.  

“Are you going to take everything I give you?” she asks, her voice low and demanding.  

“Yes,” you reply immediately, your voice shaky but certain.  

“Promise me,” she says, her tone softer but no less commanding.  

“I promise,” you say, your eyes locking onto hers.  

She sighs dramatically, shaking her head with a playful smirk. “God, it’s so fucking annoying how wet you make me. You’re such a pathetic little virgin, but you’re driving me insane.”  

Her words send a fresh wave of heat through your body, and she sits up, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts. She slides them down slowly, revealing her soaked panties, the fabric clinging to her skin.  

“Your turn to please me now,” she says, pushing her panties to the side to reveal her glistening folds. The sight is mesmerizing, and your throat tightens as you take her in.  

“If you eat my pussy well,” she continues, climbing onto the bed and positioning herself over you, “I might just reward you. But if you suck at it…” She smirks, her thighs flexing slightly. “Let’s just say I’ll be very disappointed.”  

She shifts closer, her knees on either side of your head, her thighs framing your face. Her scent is intoxicating, heady and warm, and you can feel the heat radiating from her core.  

“Are you ready to be squeezed by my thighs again?” she asks, her voice teasing but firm.  

“Yes,” you reply, your voice trembling with anticipation.  

“Good,” she says. “Now don’t disappoint me, loser.”

Yujin lowers herself onto your face slowly, deliberately, the wet heat of her pussy pressing against your lips for the first time. You’re instantly overwhelmed—her scent, her warmth, the slickness of her folds—it’s all so new, so intense.  

You freeze, unsure of what to do. Your tongue flicks out hesitantly, just barely brushing her, and you hear her scoff from above.  

“Don’t just sit there, nerd,” she says, her voice sharp but tinged with amusement. “Start licking. God, do I have to teach you everything?”  

You nod against her, your hands awkwardly resting on her thighs as you try to figure it out. “Yes,” you mumble, your voice muffled by her.  

She lets out a frustrated sigh, reaching down to grab your hair and yank your head back slightly. “Fine. Listen up,” she commands. “Start with my clit. It’s the little nub at the top. Just lick it softly—don’t get all sloppy yet. Got it?”  

“Got it,” you mutter, and tentatively, your tongue moves to where she’s directed. You find the sensitive bundle of nerves and give it a slow, deliberate lick.  

“Yeah, like that,” she murmurs, her voice softening slightly. “But don’t be afraid to use your whole tongue. Make it feel good for me.”  

You nod again, more confident now, and start swirling your tongue around her clit, alternating between soft licks and gentle flicks. The reaction is immediate—her thighs twitch slightly against your head, and she lets out a low, pleased hum.  

“Not bad,” she says, her voice teasing. “For a first-timer, anyway. Keep going. Use your lips too—suck on it a little.”  

You obey without hesitation, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking gently. Her soft moan above you sends a rush of adrenaline through your system, and you grip her thighs tighter, wanting to hear more.  

“Fuck,” she mutters, her hand still tangled in your hair as she starts to grind against your face. “You’re learning fast, aren’t you? Maybe you’re not as useless as I thought.”  

Her words spur you on, and you press your tongue flat against her, licking her in long, slow strokes before returning to her clit. Her wetness coats your lips and chin, and you find yourself savoring the taste—warm, slightly salty, and completely intoxicating.  

Her moans grow louder, but her tone remains dominant, even now. “Don’t get cocky,” she warns, her hips rolling against your mouth. “You’re doing okay, but I want more. Stick your tongue inside me.”  

Your heart pounds as you comply, your tongue darting into her entrance. Her slick walls clench around you, and the sensation is overwhelming. You push deeper, your nose brushing against her clit as you try to keep up with her grinding.  

“Fuck, that’s it,” she breathes, her dominant tone cracking just slightly as her pleasure builds. “You’re finally starting to get it. Keep going, don’t you dare stop.”  

Her taste is addictive, her heat pulling you in, and you lose yourself in the act. Your hands slide up her thighs, holding her hips steady as you thrust your tongue in and out of her, your lips dragging against her folds with every movement.  

“God, you’re such a little slut for me,” she says, her voice trembling with pleasure. “Getting addicted to my pussy, huh? I can feel it—you don’t want to stop, do you?”  

You shake your head against her, your tongue never faltering.  

Her laughter is breathy, almost ragged now. “Of course you don’t. You’re fucking addicted already. Good. That’s exactly where I want you.”  

Her thighs tighten around your head, squeezing just enough to make you feel completely trapped beneath her. Her grinding grows more frantic, her slickness dripping down your chin, and you can feel her body trembling as she approaches her climax.  

“Don’t stop,” she commands, her voice breaking into a moan. “Fuck, don’t you fucking stop.”

Yujin’s moans fill the room, soft and breathy at first but quickly growing louder, more desperate. Each sound she makes sends a surge of adrenaline through you, pushing you to work harder, your tongue flicking and swirling against her clit, dipping into her soaked folds. Her taste is addictive, her slickness coating your lips and chin, and you’re completely lost in the moment.  

“Fuck,” she hisses, her hand gripping your hair tighter, her hips rolling against your face. “You’re actually good at this. Keep going, loser. Don’t stop.”  

Her praise—if you can even call it that—makes your heart pound harder. You grip her thighs, your hands trembling slightly as you pull her closer, burying your face even deeper between her legs. Your tongue moves faster now, swirling around her clit before sliding down to tease her entrance.  

“Goddamn,” she moans, her voice muffled as she bites her lip, clearly struggling to keep quiet. Her head tilts back, and her free hand flies up to cover her mouth. “Shit… I can’t—my mom—fuck, don’t stop, loser, just… don't go all out like that.”  

You’re too focused to respond, your tongue pressing firmly against her clit as you suck gently, your lips dragging against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her thighs clamp tighter around your head, and you can feel her whole body trembling, her hips grinding harder against your face.  

“Shit, shit, shit,” she mutters under her breath, her hand still covering her mouth as her muffled moans escape. “If they hear—fuck, it’s so good—I swear I’ll kill you if you stop now.”  

You have no intention of stopping. 

Her moans are your fuel, and you redouble your efforts, your tongue working furiously to push her closer to the edge. You flick your tongue rapidly against her clit, sucking softly between strokes, and her reaction is immediate.  

“Fuck!” she whispers harshly, her hips bucking against your face. “Right there—yeah, your tongue is perfect!"

Yujin’s thighs tighten around your head, the wet heat of her pussy pressing harder against your lips as her moans grow louder, more urgent. Every breathy whimper, every shaky sigh she lets out fuels you, pushing you to work harder, your tongue flicking and swirling with renewed determination.  

“Shit,” she gasps, her voice cracking. Her hand flies to her mouth again, muffling her next moan. “God, you’re gonna get us caught, you idiot—” Her words cut off into a muffled moan as her hips grind harder against your face.  

You don’t stop. If anything, her desperation spurs you on. You flick your tongue rapidly against her clit, sucking gently before dipping down to explore her folds, her slick juices coating your lips and chin. The taste of her is intoxicating, and you can’t get enough.  

“Fuck, fuck,” she mutters behind her hand, her thighs trembling against your head. “You’re actually—oh my god—you’re actually good at this.”  

Her hips start moving erratically, grinding against your face with an urgency that makes your heart race. She’s close, you can feel it in the way her body tenses, in the way her moans pitch higher despite her efforts to muffle them.  

“Don’t stop,” she whispers harshly, her voice barely audible over the wet sounds of your tongue against her. “Fuck, don’t you dare stop—”  

You tighten your grip on her thighs, holding her steady as you give it your all, your tongue focusing on her clit, flicking and circling as her grinding grows frantic. Her juices drip down your chin, warm and slick, and you don’t care about the mess—you’re too consumed by the need to push her over the edge.  

“Oh my god,” she gasps, her voice muffled but trembling. “I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”  

Her body stiffens suddenly, her thighs clamping tightly around your head as a muffled cry escapes her lips. Her hips jerk against your face, and you feel a rush of warmth as she cums, her juices flooding your mouth and dripping down your chin.  

You keep going, your tongue moving gently now, lapping up every drop as she rides out her orgasm. Her hand falls from her mouth, and she lets out a shaky sigh, her body trembling above you.  

“Holy shit,” she mutters, her voice raw and breathless. She shifts slightly, her thighs relaxing their grip on your head, and you pull back just enough to meet her gaze. Her face is flushed, her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath.  

“You actually… you actually made me cum,” she says, her tone laced with disbelief and a hint of amusement. “I didn’t think you had it in you, loser.”  

You manage a weak smile, your lips and chin still glistening with her juices.  

She smirks, leaning down to wipe your chin with her thumb before sucking it clean with a satisfied hum. “Guess you’re good for something after all,” she says, her voice soft but teasing. “Now, lick me clean. Every last drop.”  

Yujin slides off your face, leaving you breathless, her thighs glistening with her slick juices. She collapses onto the bed, spreading her legs lazily, her pussy still flushed and dripping. “Come on, you’ve got work to do,” she says, tilting her head toward her wet thighs. “Clean me up.”  

You nod wordlessly, leaning in and pressing your tongue to the inside of her thigh. Her skin is soft and warm, her taste still fresh on your lips. You drag your tongue up slowly, savoring every drop, alternating between long licks and soft kisses.  

Her fingers thread through your hair as she watches you work. “What do you think of my taste?” she asks, her voice low and teasing.  

You glance up at her, your lips brushing against the curve of her thigh. “It’s perfect,” you say, your voice full of reverence.  

A satisfied smile spreads across her face, and she props herself up on one elbow. “Good boy,” she purrs. “You’ve earned a reward.”  

Before you can ask what she means, she pulls her tank top over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. Her bare breasts are revealed—average-sized, perky, with small, pink nipples that practically beg for attention. She lies on her side next to you, her body relaxed but her eyes sharp as she studies your reaction.  

“First time seeing tits in real life?” she asks, her tone a mix of curiosity and mockery.  

You nod, your face flushing. “Y-yeah.”  

She smirks, leaning closer. “You wanna touch them?”  

Your throat feels dry as you nod again, unable to tear your eyes away from her chest.  

“Ask nicely,” she demands, her voice taking on that commanding edge again.  

You swallow hard, your voice trembling as you say, “Yujin, can I… can I touch them, please?”  

She grins, clearly enjoying your nervousness. “Go ahead,” she says, arching her back slightly to push her chest closer to you.  

Your hands tremble as you reach out, your fingers brushing against her soft skin for the first time. The sensation is incredible—warm, supple, and completely new. You cup her breasts gently, your thumbs brushing over her nipples, and she lets out a soft hum of approval.  

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she asks, her voice softer now, almost tender.  

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“Don’t be shy,” she says, her smirk returning. “You can squeeze them. Play with them.”  

You obey, your hands moving more confidently now. You massage her breasts, your fingers exploring every curve and dip, your thumbs circling her nipples until they harden under your touch. She arches her back slightly, pressing into your hands, her breath hitching.  

“Good,” she murmurs. “Now suck them.”  

You don’t hesitate. You lean down, your lips wrapping around one of her nipples as your tongue flicks against it. She lets out a soft sigh, her hand resting on the back of your head to keep you in place.  

“Fuck,” she breathes, her voice thick with pleasure. “You’re eager, huh? Like a starving puppy.”  

Her words make your cock twitch, already rock-hard again. You switch to her other breast, sucking and licking with the same enthusiasm, your hands kneading her soft flesh.  

She notices your arousal, of course, her hand trailing down your body until it wraps around your shaft. “You’re so fucking hard again,” she murmurs, stroking you slowly. “It’s almost pathetic how much you want this.”  

You let out a muffled groan against her breast, your hips jerking into her hand as she strokes you with practiced ease. Her thumb glides over your tip, spreading the pre-cum leaking from you.  

“God, you’re such a mess,” she teases, her voice full of mockery and heat. “But you’re my mess.”  

Yujin’s fingers work your cock with a steady, teasing rhythm, her hand warm and slick from your pre-cum. Meanwhile, your mouth is still on her breasts, sucking and licking her hardened nipples with devotion. You feel intoxicated—her scent, her taste, the way she completely controls every second of this—it’s all too much, yet not enough.  

You get carried away, your teeth grazing her nipple just a bit too hard. She gasps, her back arching, and suddenly her hand tightens around your cock, squeezing just enough to make you freeze.  

“Hey!” she snaps, her tone sharp as her eyes narrow. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You can’t just bite a woman’s nipples like that.”  

You pull back immediately, your face heating up. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, looking up at her.  

She huffs, her fingers loosening but still holding you firmly. “God, you’ve got so much to learn,” she mutters, shaking her head. “What are you, a fucking caveman? Be gentle.”  

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you say again, swallowing hard.  

She lets out a dramatic sigh. “At least you’re eager. I’ll give you that. But don’t fuck up again, or I might just leave you here with blue balls.”  

You nod quickly, your lips returning to her breast, this time much more careful. She relaxes again, her smirk returning as her hand resumes stroking you. “That’s better,” she murmurs, her voice softening. “Good boy. Keep sucking.”  

You lose yourself in the moment, your lips wrapping around her nipple, your tongue flicking and swirling while her hand works you faster. The combination of sensations is almost too much to handle, and you let out a muffled moan against her skin.  

“God, you’re so fucking loud,” she mutters, her fingers sliding up to rub your sensitive tip. “If you keep making noises like that, they’re gonna hear us.”  

She pulls back suddenly, her breasts leaving your mouth as she sits up, looking down at you with a wicked grin. “I think it’s time, don’t you?”  

“Time for what?” you ask, breathless and dazed.  

“For me to fuck you,” she says simply.

Your heart skips a beat, and you nod quickly. “Yes. Please.”  

She chuckles, leaning in close. “You sure?” she asks, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I’m not stopping until I cum, so you’d better keep up.”  

“I’m sure,” you say, your voice trembling.  

Her grin widens as she pulls away, finally standing up beside the bed. “Maybe it won’t be too hard,” she says, eyeing your cock. “With a dick that big, you might actually make me feel something.”  

She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down slowly, teasingly, until they fall to the floor. Her pussy is glistening, flushed and ready, and you can’t take your eyes off her.  

“Open your mouth,” she commands suddenly.  

You blink, confused. “What?”  

She picks up her soaked panties and dangles them in front of your face. “You heard me. Open your mouth.”  

“Shouldn’t you be the one gagged with them?” you blurt out, unable to stop yourself.  

She lets out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Oh my god, you’re adorable,” she says mockingly. “But no, loser. You don’t get to make the rules here. Now open up, or I’ll reconsider this whole thing.”  

You hesitate for only a second before obeying, parting your lips.  

“Good boy,” she says, smirking as she presses the damp fabric into your mouth. The taste of her is overwhelming—warm, musky, and undeniably intoxicating. “See? You love the way I taste anyway, don’t you?”  

You nod, your cheeks burning as she climbs back onto the bed, positioning herself above you.  

“Keep those in,” she orders, her hands planting on your chest as she straddles your hips. “I don’t want to hear a fucking peep out of you.”  

Her wet folds brush against the tip of your cock, and the sensation is electric, making your whole body tense. She grins down at you, her eyes locking onto yours as she teases you, grinding against you without letting you inside.  

“Ready, loser?” she asks, her voice dripping with mockery and heat.  

You nod frantically, muffled sounds escaping around the panties in your mouth.  

“Good,” she murmurs, positioning herself before sinking down onto you in one slow, deliberate motion.  

The heat and tightness of her envelop you completely, and the sensation is almost too much to handle. Your head falls back against the pillow, muffled groans spilling out as she bottoms out, her hips resting flush against yours.  

“Fuck,” she mutters, biting her lip as she adjusts to your size. “Maybe you’re not completely useless after all.”  

She starts to move, her hips rolling slowly at first, her wetness making every movement smooth and maddening. Her hands slide up your chest, her nails digging in slightly as she picks up the pace, riding you with a confidence that leaves you breathless.  

“God, you feel so fucking good,” she moans.

Yujin's hips roll against you with an almost punishing rhythm, her wetness making every thrust slick and smooth. Her moans escape her lips in breathy, desperate bursts, and she bites her lip, trying and failing to keep them low. The whole scene feels unreal—Yujin, the girl who made your life hell in high school, is now on top of you, her pussy gripping you so tight it feels like she was made for this.  

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice trembling as she rides you harder. “You’re actually doing it for me. Who knew this pathetic little loser would have such a good cock?”  

You can’t reply, not with her soaked panties stuffed in your mouth, so you nod instead, your muffled groans mixing with the obscene sounds of her riding you.  

Her hands slide up to her breasts, squeezing and kneading them as her pace quickens. Her nipples, hard and pink, peek between her fingers as she teases herself, and the sight makes your cock twitch inside her.  

“You like watching me, don’t you?” she asks, her voice sultry but still laced with that teasing edge. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, huh? Your big bad bully fucking the shit out of you.”  

You nod frantically, your eyes glued to her chest as her hands work her breasts.  

“Thought so,” she purrs, smirking down at you. “Am I hot? Tell me I’m fucking hot.”  

You nod again, your muffled voice straining around the fabric in your mouth.  

She laughs breathlessly, her hips slamming down harder now. “God, you’re so easy. Just a big, dumb dick for me to use. And fuck, you feel so fucking good.”  

Her moans grow louder, and she presses one hand against her mouth, her other hand still massaging her breast. “Shit, I can’t be too loud,” she mutters, grinding harder. “Your dad and my mom would fucking kill us if they knew what we were doing.”  

The thought of being caught only seems to turn her on more, her movements becoming more frantic as she chases her own pleasure. You’re completely at her mercy, her pussy clenching around you in perfect rhythm, her thighs flexing as she rides you like she owns you.  

But then she slows, her hands sliding down to your chest as she leans over you, her breath hot against your ear. “Let’s change it up,” she whispers, her voice dripping with authority.  

She pulls off you with a slick, wet sound, leaving you throbbing and desperate. Grabbing your wrists, she maneuvers you onto your back, your legs spreading awkwardly as she positions herself between them.  

“This is called the Amazon position,” she says, her tone mocking as she smirks down at you. “You’re about to get fucked properly.”  

She straddles your waist, your cock pressing against her soaked folds again as she grips your thighs for leverage. With one hand, she lines you up, her other hand pressing against your chest to keep you in place.  

“Ready?” she asks, her smirk widening as she looks down at you.  

You nod, your muffled groan turning into a desperate whimper as she sinks down onto you again, her pussy taking you in inch by inch.  

“Fuck,” she breathes, her head tilting back as she adjusts to the new angle. “You’re so fucking deep like this. God, I might actually let you cum if you keep feeling this good.”  

Her hands grip your thighs tighter as she starts moving, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles. The position gives her complete control, and she takes full advantage, slamming down onto you with a force that makes the bed creak beneath you.  

“Look at you,” she taunts, her voice trembling with pleasure. “Lying there like a good little toy, letting me use you. Bet you’ve never had a girl take charge like this, huh?”  

You shake your head, your hands gripping the sheets as she rides you relentlessly, her moans filling the room despite her earlier efforts to keep quiet.  

“God, you’re so fucking easy,” she pants, her movements becoming faster, more erratic. “I could do this all night. Fuck, I might have to—I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this dick.”  

Yujin’s hips roll and slam against you with abandon now, the room filled with the wet, obscene sounds of her pussy taking you over and over. Her breathing is heavy, her moans louder, no longer restrained. It’s as if she’s forgotten where you are—or maybe she just doesn’t care anymore. The way her nails dig into your chest, her thighs flexing with each thrust, tells you she’s chasing her high, and nothing else matters.  

Your body arches beneath her, the sensation overwhelming, her wet heat gripping you so tightly it feels like she’s molding herself to your cock. You can’t help it anymore—the panties in your mouth feel suffocating. With trembling hands, you yank them out and gasp, your voice cracking as you moan, “Fuck, Yujin… this feels so good. I’m—I’m loving this.”  

Her head snaps down, her eyes locking onto yours, a mix of dominance and amusement lighting up her face. “Oh yeah?” she pants, her pace not faltering for a second. “You love being fucked by me? You love being under me like this?”  

“Yes,” you moan, your voice shaky but full of conviction. “I fucking love it.”  

She laughs, low and breathless, her lips curling into that wicked smirk that’s burned into your mind. “Of course you do,” she says, leaning forward slightly, her hips still slamming into you with precision. “You’re my little whore, aren’t you?”  

“Yes,” you gasp, your hands clutching the sheets as her words send another wave of heat through you.  

“Say it,” she commands, her voice sharp despite the tremor of pleasure in it. “Say you’re my little whore.”  

“I’m your little whore,” you cry out, your voice cracking as her movements grow more frantic.  

She bites her lip, her head falling back for a moment before she looks down at you again, her eyes burning with intensity. “Do I own you?” she asks, her voice softer now, almost intimate, but the demand in her tone is unmistakable.  

“Yes,” you say, your voice trembling. “You own me. I belong to you, Yujin.”  

Yujin’s movements become erratic, her hips grinding down onto you with a desperate rhythm, her thighs trembling as she takes you deeper with every thrust. The Amazon position lets her dominate you completely, her hands pressing firmly against your chest for leverage.

The wet, obscene sounds of her pussy swallowing your cock echo in the room, mingling with her moans, which are growing louder and less controlled. She’s past caring about being overheard, her voice shaky and raw as her pleasure builds to a fever pitch.  

“Fuck,” she gasps, her head tilting back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she loses herself in the sensation. “You feel so fucking good… I’m so close.”  

Her thighs flex around your waist, her entire body trembling with the effort to ride you faster, harder. She leans forward, her face hovering inches above yours, her breath hot and ragged as she looks into your eyes. “You’re such a fucking loser,” she pants, her lips curling into a smirk even as her voice shakes. “But this cock… god, this cock is fucking perfect.”  

You groan beneath her, your hands gripping the sheets as her pussy clenches tighter around you. The heat, the pressure, the way she moves—it’s all too much, and you can barely hold on as she takes you closer to the edge.  

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she cries out, her voice cracking as her pace grows frantic. Her hands slide up to her breasts, squeezing and teasing her own nipples as she rides you like her life depends on it. “Don’t you fucking dare come now,” she orders, her tone desperate now. “Just… fuck, just stay right there.”  

Her hips slam down onto you one last time, her body stiffening as she throws her head back with a loud, guttural moan. Her pussy clamps down around your cock, squeezing and pulsing as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave. Her thighs tremble violently, and her nails dig into your chest hard enough to leave marks as she grinds down onto you, riding out every last wave of pleasure.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants, her voice raw and breathless as her body jerks against yours. Her slickness floods around you, the heat of her orgasm soaking your thighs and dripping down onto the bed.  

When she finally collapses forward, her chest pressing against yours, her breath comes in ragged gasps, her hair sticking to her damp skin. She’s still trembling slightly, her pussy fluttering around your cock as the last aftershocks of her climax ripple through her.  

“Holy shit,” she mutters against your neck, her voice low and hoarse. “That was fucking insane.”  

You stay still beneath her, your cock still hard inside her as her slick heat surrounds you. She lifts her head after a moment, her smirk returning as she looks down at you, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your chest.  

“You didn’t cum yet, did you?” she asks, her tone smug.  

You shake your head, your breath still uneven.  

“Good,” she says, biting her lip as her hips shift slightly, her pussy still gripping you tightly. “Because I’m not done with you yet. Your cock is amazing.”

You smile weakly, your hands resting on her back as you catch your breath. “You’re… pretty amazing yourself,” you manage, your voice still shaky.  

She chuckles softly, her breath warm against your skin. “Damn right I am.”  

For a while, you just lie there together, your bodies tangled, the post-orgasm haze making everything feel surreal. Especially Yujin, who is kissing you with a tenderness you would never expect from her.  

Then, a sharp knock on the door shatters the quiet.  

“Everything okay in there?” your dad’s voice calls out, muffled through the wood.  

Your heart stops, and Yujin’s eyes snap open, wide with panic. She looks at you, mouthing, do something!

“Y-yeah!” you call back, trying to sound casual.  

Your dad pauses for a moment. “I thought I heard a scream,” he says.  

“Oh, uh, I'm watching a movie!” you blurt out, your voice cracking slightly. “That must’ve been it.”  

“A movie?” he repeats, sounding skeptical.  

“Yeah,” you say quickly. “I’ll, uh, turn it down. Sorry about that.”  

There’s another pause before your dad finally says, “Alright. Just keep it down, okay? Yujin must be asleep already.”  

“Okay, no problem!” you reply, relief washing over you as you hear his footsteps retreating.  

You and Yujin stay frozen for a moment, then look at each other, wide-eyed. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face, and she starts laughing softly. You can’t help but join her, the tension melting away as you both dissolve into quiet, breathless giggles.  

“You’re fucking insane,” you whisper, shaking your head.  

She smirks, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with a little fun,” she says smugly.  

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “What does it feel like?” she asks suddenly, her voice softer now.  

“What?”  

“Being fucked by a woman,” she says, her smirk returning. “What’s it like?”  

You pause, your face flushing as you search for the right words. “It’s… the best feeling ever,” you admit. “Your pussy is so tight, it feels so fucking good.”  

Her smirk widens, and she sits up slightly, her hands resting on your chest. “Yeah?” she says, her voice teasing. “Wanna see how my pussy grips your cock?”  

Your breath catches, and you nod quickly. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling.  

She grins wickedly, sliding off you and turning around. “Alright then,” she says, positioning herself on your thighs in a perfect reverse cowgirl. She glances over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Let’s see how much you can handle.”  

With that, she lowers herself onto you again, her wet heat enveloping you completely. The sight of her ass bouncing as she starts to ride you is almost too much to handle, and you grip her hips, your fingers sinking into her soft skin as she takes control once more.

Yujin’s hips move in slow, deliberate circles, her wet heat gripping your cock like a vice. From your vantage point, you have a perfect view of her pussy taking you in with every motion, clinging to you tightly as she lifts herself up and sinks back down. It’s mesmerizing—the way she moves is hypnotic, every roll of her hips precise and calculated.  

Her head tilts back slightly, her hands braced on your thighs for balance, her breathing steady but filled with quiet moans. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and it’s driving you crazy.  

“Fuck,” you mutter, your hands sliding up to her waist and then lower to her ass. You can’t help yourself—you squeeze her buttocks, soft and fleshy, feeling the way they move under your hands as she rides you.  

She chuckles breathlessly, glancing over her shoulder at you. “Like what you see?”  

“Yeah,” you gasp, your fingers digging into her skin as her pace remains maddeningly slow. “You’re fucking perfect.”  

“I know,” she purrs, arching her back slightly to give you an even better view. “Keep talking, loser. I like hearing how much you love this.”  

“You’re amazing,” you admit, your voice trembling. “The way you move, the way you feel… it’s fucking incredible.”  

Her smirk widens as she lets out a low moan, her pussy clenching around you in perfect rhythm. “Of course it is,” she teases. “I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and now you finally know it.”  

Your fingers tighten on her ass, your hips twitching involuntarily as she grinds down harder. The pleasure is almost unbearable, and then she slows again, her movements languid and torturous.  

“Yujin,” you groan, your voice strained.  

She glances back at you, her smirk turning wicked. “What?”  

“Don’t stop,” you plead, your hands gripping her tighter.  

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement. “I’m just enjoying myself.”  

Her pace remains steady for a moment before she shifts her weight slightly, taking you deeper. Her wetness makes every movement smooth and slick, and the sound of it fills the room, mixing with your ragged breathing.  

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “Do you want to cum inside me?”  

The question jolts you, and your heart skips a beat. “W-what?” you stammer, staring at her in shock.  

She giggles, rolling her hips in a way that makes your whole body shudder. “You heard me,” she says, her tone playful but teasing. “Do you want to cum inside me?”  

“I… I can’t,” you say quickly, panic creeping into your voice. “You could get pregnant.”  

Her laughter is wicked, and she glances back at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, so you’re saying you’d like to get me pregnant, huh?”  

“What? No!” you protest, your face burning.  

“Think about it,” she continues, clearly enjoying your reaction. “The big, bad bully who made your life hell, walking around with your baby. Everyone would know it was you. Hell, I’d make sure they knew.”  

“Yujin!” you groan, equal parts embarrassed and aroused.  

“You’d love it, wouldn’t you?” she teases, her pussy tightening around you as she moves. “The thought of me, pregnant because of you. God, you’re such a perv.”  

“It’s exciting, yeah,” you admit reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But… no. I don’t want that.”  

She laughs again, the sound rich and sultry. “Relax,” she says, her tone softening slightly. “I’m on the pill, dumbass. I’ve been on it for a while.”  

You blink, her words catching you off guard. “Why?”  

“Maybe,” she says, leaning forward slightly, her hips still moving, “I was waiting for this moment.”  

The idea sends a jolt of arousal through you, and your cock twitches inside her. “Fuck,” you mutter, your voice shaky. “If that’s true… then yes. I want to cum inside you. I really fucking want to.”  

Her grin widens, and she lets out a low chuckle. “Of course you do,” she says smugly, her hands gripping your thighs as she picks up the pace.  

Her hips slam down harder now, the rhythm more erratic as she chases both of your highs. The sight of her pussy taking you in, the sound of her moans mixing with the wet slap of skin against skin—it’s almost too much, but you manage to hold on, even as the pressure builds inside you.  

“Don’t you fucking dare cum yet,” she warns, her voice breathy but firm. “Not until I say so.”  

Yujin’s movements grow frantic, her hips slamming down on your cock with an obscene rhythm. The sound of her ass smacking against your pelvis fills the room, wet and loud, accompanied by her uncontrollable moans. Her head tilts back, her hair cascading over her shoulders, and you’re completely transfixed by the sight of her ass bouncing on your cock, jiggling with every violent thrust.  

“Fuck, Yujin,” you gasp, your voice strained. “If you keep this up, I won’t be able to hold out.”  

She glances back at you, her face flushed and glistening with sweat, her lips curling into a devilish grin. “Don’t you dare,” she snaps, her breath coming in sharp gasps. “You hold on. I need to cum again!”  

You grip the sheets beneath you, your knuckles white as the pleasure builds to unbearable levels. She’s going wild now, her pace relentless, her moans louder and more desperate. Every thrust sends waves of heat coursing through your body, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge.  

“Yujin,” you groan, your voice barely audible. “I’m gonna cum. I can’t hold it.”  

She lets out a sharp cry, her nails digging into your thighs as she rides you harder. “No,” she barks, her tone commanding even as her moans turn ragged. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? You’ll wait. You’ll cum when I say you can.”  

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to nod, your breath hitching as she continues to take you to your limits.  

“That’s it,” she pants, her voice softening slightly. “You’re my good boy. You’ll wait for me. Just a little longer, okay? We’re gonna cum together.”  

Her encouragement is intoxicating, and you fight to hold back, even as her pace grows more erratic. The wet sound of her pussy taking your cock mixes with the obscene slap of her ass against you, and you can feel her walls tightening around you, clenching rhythmically.  

“I’m so close,” she moans, her voice trembling. “Hold on for me. Just a little more.”  

Your body trembles beneath her, your cock throbbing inside her as she leans forward slightly, her nails dragging down your thighs. Her dirty talk spills from her lips in breathless gasps, driving you both closer to the edge.  

“God, you’re so deep,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I can feel every inch of you, stretching me so good. You’re gonna cum inside me, aren’t you?”  

“Yes,” you manage to choke out, your voice desperate.  

Her smirk returns, her hips slamming down harder. “You’re gonna fill me up,” she murmurs, her tone filthy. “Mix your cum with my juices. God, I want it so bad. I want your thick, hot cum in my pussy. Are you gonna give it to me?”  

“Yes,” you moan, your voice breaking as your grip on the sheets tightens.  

She lets out a loud, shaky cry, her movements growing wild and uncontrolled. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she gasps, her head tilting back. “I’m cumming! Cum with me, baby, cum inside me!”  

Her words are your undoing. Your body jerks beneath her as your orgasm crashes over you, and you let out a loud, guttural moan as you release deep inside her. Her pussy clamps down on you, pulsing and milking you for everything you have as she cries out, her body trembling with the force of her climax.  

The two of you ride out the waves together, your bodies locked in rhythm as her walls squeeze you tightly, your cum flooding her. Her hips slow, her movements becoming more erratic as the last tremors of her orgasm roll through her. Finally, she collapses forward, her chest heaving as she rests against your thighs, her body still twitching from the intensity.  

“Fuck,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “That was… holy shit.”  

You’re too spent to reply, your chest rising and falling as you struggle to catch your breath. She stays there for a moment before slowly sitting up, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face.  

“Let’s see the damage,” she says, her tone playful but tired.  

She lifts herself off you slowly, and you watch as your cock slips out of her with a wet, lewd sound. Thick streams of cum drip from her swollen pussy, trailing down her thighs and pooling on the sheets beneath her.  

“Damn,” she murmurs, reaching down to swipe her fingers through the mess before holding them up to show you. “You really filled me up, huh?”  

You nod weakly, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of her pussy still leaking your cum.  

She grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Not bad for a loser,” she teases softly. “Not bad at all.”  

The room is still, the air thick with the lingering heat of your bodies and the unmistakable scent of sex. Yujin sits beside you, her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. You watch her, unable to tear your gaze away from the way her flushed skin glows under the soft light, her hair messy, her lips slightly swollen. Before you can stop yourself, you lean in and kiss her.  

It’s not a tentative kiss this time. It’s intense, filled with every ounce of passion you didn’t know you had left in you. Yujin freezes for a second, clearly taken aback by your sudden boldness, but she recovers quickly. Her lips move against yours, just as hungry as before, her hands cupping your face as if she’s trying to figure out what just got into you.  

When you finally pull back, her eyes are wide, searching yours. “Wow,” she says, letting out a small laugh. “Where the hell did that come from?”  

“I couldn’t help it,” you admit. “That was… the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”  

Yujin chuckles, a low, lazy sound that warms the environment. “Not gonna lie,” she says, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, “I think I might agree with you on that.”  

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t stop the words that come tumbling out next. “You look really beautiful right now,” you say, your voice trembling slightly.  

Her smirk returns, but there’s something softer behind it this time. “Careful,” she teases, tilting her head. “Are you falling in love with me or something?”  

Your face burns instantly, and you fumble for a response. “No! I mean… I—uh, that’s not what I meant—”  

She cuts you off with a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. “Relax, loser. I’m just messing with you.” Her voice drops slightly, and she looks at you, almost shy. “But… maybe I like you too. Just a little.”  

“Do you mean you like me now,” you ask after a moment, your voice hesitant, “or… did you like me in high school?”  

She hesitates, chewing her lip as if deciding whether to answer honestly. “Yeah, since high school,” she admits finally, avoiding your gaze.  

“But… then why were you so mean to me?”  

She rolls her eyes, but her smirk doesn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “You only ever see the bad side of things,” she says, her tone playful but tinged with something serious. “Do you not remember how many times I kept other people from fucking with you?”  

You blink, the memory surfacing almost instantly. A group of older guys had cornered you once by the lockers, shoving you around, but before things got worse, Yujin had shown up like a goddamn storm cloud. She’d sent them scattering with nothing more than a sharp glare and a few choice words.  

“That was you,” you mutter, the realization sinking in.  

She shrugs, her expression carefully neutral. “Yeah, that was me. Look, I’m not good at showing feelings, alright? My love language is… teasing. Irritating people. Making their lives hell. It's my defense mechanism. It's complicated to explain."

“So, what you’re saying is… the more you teased me, the more you liked me?”  

Her face flushes, and she scowls, swatting your arm. “Don't feel special just because I told you this, dumbass.” She pauses, then mutters, “But… maybe.”  

You grin, the bittersweet humor of it all settling over you. “That means you must have liked me a lot, then.”  

“Shut up,” she grumbles, but her lips twitch into a reluctant smile as she leans in and kisses you again, softer this time.  

When she pulls back, she stretches out on the bed, looking far too comfortable. “Let’s watch your stupid Lion King movie,” she says.

You blink at her. “Didn’t you just make fun of it earlier?”  

She rolls her eyes. “I was teasing you, silly. Everyone loves Disney movies.”  

You laugh, shaking your head as you reach for your laptop on the desk, but something nags at you. “Shouldn’t you go back to your room?” you ask, glancing toward the door. “What if your mom or my dad heard us?”  

She smirks, unfazed. “First of all, your room is the last one in the hall, if they barely heard my screams before, they won't hear us now. Second, they both sleep like rocks. We’re fine.”  

Her confidence is oddly reassuring, and you relax a little as she scoots closer, resting her head on your shoulder.  

“What if they wake up early?” you ask, still not entirely convinced.  

She snorts. “I’ll sneak back before they do. Relax, loser. I’m not leaving yet.”  

The idea of her staying here, curled up next to you, makes your chest tighten in a way you don’t entirely understand. You glance down at her, and she catches your gaze, raising an eyebrow.  

“What?” she asks, her voice softer now.  

“Nothing,” you say quickly, but the small smile that tugs at your lips says otherwise.  

“Okay, let's change these sheets before we watch the movie,” says Yujin clapping her hands and getting up from the bed. “You need to wash them in secret tomorrow, don't forget.”

— 

After changing the sheets and Yujin brushing her teeth (and yes, she used your toothbrush), the two of you are in bed again, still naked, at Yujin's insistence. According to her, she loves the feeling of the soft blanket fabric against her bare skin.

You adjust the laptop on the bed, propping it up on a pillow so you both can see. "Alright, but if you start singing 'Hakuna Matata,' I swear..." you tease, giving her a playful nudge.

Yujin grins, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, I'll sing it alright. You'll be joining in by the end, just watch."

As the movie starts, you can't shake the surreal feeling of the whole situation. Here you are, watching The Lion King with Yujin, your new stepsister, both of you naked and sticky from what just went down. 

It's fucking weird, but also... kind of nice.

You glance down at her, her head resting on your shoulder. Her eyes are glued to the screen, a soft smile playing on her lips. She looks so different like this—relaxed, almost innocent. It's a far cry from the smirking, foul-mouthed girl who was jerking you off with her foot just minutes ago.

About halfway through the movie, you feel her hand creep onto your thigh, her fingers tracing small patterns on your skin. It's distracting, but you don't want her to stop. You cover her hand with yours, giving it a squeeze. She looks up at you, her smile softening even more.

"This is nice," she murmurs.

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. "Yeah, it is."

As the movie continues, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. This is fucked up, no doubt about it. But it also feels... right. Like this is exactly where you're both meant to be, at least for tonight.

You push aside the nagging thoughts about what this means, about what happens next. For now, you just want to enjoy this moment, this strange, perfect little bubble you've found yourselves in.

As the credits roll, Yujin looks up at you, her eyes searching. "So, what the hell are we going to do with this?" she asks, her voice soft.

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I don't know. But I'm glad you're here."

She smiles back, her hand squeezing yours. "Me too, loser. Me too.”

[cjlouwho]

Fell asleep then woke back up still pissed, because:

Tim was clear when he decided on bi buck, Tommy was chosen on purpose. Someone who fit in with the team already and could fit in Buck’s life. It solved the outsider problem.

They wrote Chimney talking about how cool he was, made him and Eddie friends, had Eddie invite him to a virtual bday party, had Bobby give a huge stamp of approval saying Tommy was good for Buck, that he was good people. Made a big deal of the wedding/coming out scene.

They could have made this an off screen breakup at the beginning of season 8. Honestly, I would have accepted it better. But they brought Tommy back, showed again how he fit with Buck’s world. Showed there was no hostility between him and Eddie. They showed Tommy going above and beyond for Buck, sleeping on a couch with too small of a blanket, doting on him, staring at him with so much love, “breaking the curse,” etc.

I don’t buy Tommy’s lame excuse for breaking it off. That’s such crappy, high school writing. This man is 40 fucking years old, he’s six months into this relationship, and I’m supposed to believe he just suddenly decides he and Buck aren’t made to last? That Buck needs other partners? Please!

It also pisses me off that they had him get Buck basketball game tickets for their anniversary. He has got to know by now that Buck doesn’t actually like basketball. And why even have Abby be part of it at all? That was all part of the red string of fate theory, so it felt like an extra slap in the face to include it in their breakup.

The whole thing was so poorly executed, and it seems wrong that they had Oliver and Lou do a whole ass interview at the end of 7 to just… go nowhere in 8. Then have Lou do two exit interviews when he’s not a main anyway, so it feels worse to actually hear from him (especially when he seems as genuinely confused as we do).

They should have had it be some random guy. They shouldn’t have made the effort to include Tommy as much as they did. They shouldn’t have mentioned wanting bucktommy to be like tarlos. Shouldn’t have mentioned getting Buck off his hamster wheel. They gave fucking Taylor more time than this, and she spent the majority of her screen time using Buck to further her career.

And someone, somewhere down the line could have made a statement to stop fucking harassing Lou, seeing as they’ve known for at least a few months that he was no “threat” to anyone or anything.

[haveihitanerve]

batman has trouble telling his family how he feels. So he decides he can write it down in a journal or leave them notes. It's easy to write down the words than say them because the words he wants to say always get lost in translation when he opens his mouth. Dickie when he was robin has a whole box filled with notes from Bruce. Turns out batman can be funny when he writes his thoughts down. Jason writes back to Bruce just as sassy.

i love this

With Dick, the first note appeared after the first fight. A nasty fight, where Dick had screamed

"YOU'RE NOT MY DAD, WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE, I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU!!!!"

Bruce had gone quiet after the words, and isolated himself away. Dick had felt crummy afterwards, but there wasn't much to do about it, Bruce wasn't around to apologize to and... well, it was true. The screams had just been... inner thoughts he hadn't voiced.

Bruce knew it too. And, it shouldn't have to be up to Dick to make amends. So he withdrew to his office, locked it tight, so that he wouldn't say words he'd regret and make things worse with Dick.

The first few drafts... were hard. But Bruce found his rhythm, and it was so much better. He could erase and start again, and reword, and clear up any parts that weren't clear. He could be concise, precise, honest and literate, he didn't have to stumble and rip his way through an uncomfortable conversation where he'd make things worse.

Dick found the note later that night, laying on his pillow, three pages worth of words that told him he was loved, whether or not he wanted Bruce to be his dad, he could just remain a friend, a brother if he wanted, and that he cared, even if it wasn't always shown, even if it wasn't as a father.

Bruce established boundaries, and apologized too, because it was needed, and it was so much easier to say what he needed to through written words, instead of admitting them aloud. Maybe it made him a coward, it made him a coward, but the next morning Dick hugged him and apologized back, so it worked.

The notes became frequent from then on, usually after fights, or misunderstandings, and Dick understood the need, knew that Bruce wasn't as able to concisely share his thoughts and formulate them as well on the spot aloud, so he let it happen, but soon they became more commonplace, left on chimneys on patrol for Dick to find, little love notes and encouraging words that Bruce became better at saying aloud too.

Dick kept each one, tucking them safely into his belt, and kept them in a box in his closet, one he had made at school with Bruce during a parent-child fun day, and pulled them out to read every so often, when things between them got hard.

The box moved with him, stuffed in the closet at Bludhaven, and postage was expensive, travel even more so, but Bruce still sent him letters, apologies Dick didn't open, notes taped to his window he tossed away (still into a pile he never threw out, but never read either).

When things got better, Dick would read the notes, but he never touched the letters from before, because for once he needed the words from Bruce's lips, and he had liked Bruce's stumbling, his faltering and chagrin, and did not want to read his well thought out, thorough one instead. He still kept the notes, of course.

With Barbara.... Bruce didn't have a claim to her. She wasn't his daughter. She wasn't looking for a father. She wasn't, quite honestly, even looking for a mentor. But she found one in him anyway, whether either of them liked it or not.

But Bruce still sent her notes. Little letters, facts, information, telling her through a note was easier than in person. Because then he could lay it all out, and maybe she'd see something he'd missed. Because she always did. She completed him, in a way none of the other did. In a way even Dick didn't. But, then again, they all completed him in different ways. Hers was just more noticeable.

After Joker... every day he wrote to her, flooding her phone with messages, her laptop with emails, her room with cards and flowers and notes.

And when she moved to the Clock Tower it didn't stop, maybe slowed a little, became smaller in quantity, but he always sent her something. Let her check over his work, proofread anything and everything. His fresh set of eyes.

She wrote back, sometimes. But she was more like Dick in that regard, choosing to answer his messages verbally rather than write back. She did have the perfect time to do it too, and she always had something to say.

Barbara never struggled with her words the way he did. And he appreciated it. Loved it, even. Even if it usually didn't mean anything good for him...

With Jason... Bruce hadn't done it, originally, because Jason was just so bright, and understood, and didn't need the words because he heard them because Bruce was better, all the mistakes he'd made with Dick cleaned up a bit.

But Jason needed the words, and he had such a spark, so Bruce began writing again, sliding notes under his son's door and leaving them taped around the house, or on patrol. And Jason, Jason wrote back.

Little witty notes, marked up Bruce letters with grammar corrections, book recommendations, questions about what they were eating for dinner, or little stories, scrawled in the margins of notebook paper, stuck to Bruce's cape, or on his pillow, or taped to his mirror.

Bruce still wrote the letters, left them in Jason's room, after his death. Red Hood never mentioned it, but after a trip to the manor to "haunt" them, he became a little less violent.

With Tim, Bruce was ashamed to admit, he just didn't care. He didn't care that Tim winced at his words, he didn't care if he was misunderstood, he didn't care if he neglected the boy.

And it hurt, Bruce knew it hurt him, but he just didn't care, couldn't bring himself to, not when Tim was so much like the boy he'd lost, not when Tim was so different.

But Tim started writing letters, originally just for himself, begging for affection, begging for his parents to love him, begging for Bruce to notice him. Then the notes got angry, rants, screaming, slashes across the page, pencil marks that tore paper and dug groves into the table.

He kept them all to himself, waded up in the corner of his room, but Bruce found them, found them all, and he hated himself, hated the Drakes, but he couldn't even fault them because he, oh he was much worse. (no he wasn't the Drakes owed Tim love and affection those were his parents and a child deserves that from his parents Bruce tech didn't owe him anything but shiii he was awful and-)

So Bruce started writing again, answering all of Tim's pleas, cataloging every single movement and jump and case and file and everything Tim had ever done right and congratulating him, giving him pride Bruce wasn't even sure he was allowed to give anymore, and he apologized, begged for forgiveness, for a chance to start over, because he was better now, Tim had made him better, and he wanted... he wanted to be better. For Tim.

In the end the note was twenty three pages long, and ended with the simple phrase, "I love you, you are my Robin, and I'm so sorry"

Tim was at school, so Bruce left it on his bed, and shut himself away in the cave until he got home. He always stopped by his room first, tidying everything up, because he was only a "guest" and all, before heading down to the cave.

Bruce waited for two hours. When Tim finally came into the cave, his eyes were red, tears still falling down his face.

"Oh Timmy," Bruce breathed. "I'm so so sorry." Tim walked to him, and collapsed in his arms.

And from then on, things were better. Not perfect, nothing to do with Bruce's personal life was perfect, but it was better. It was good. And Bruce started sending notes. Slowly, they turned from letters into emails, into texts and shared google docs. So Tim would have evidence in his favored form, of Bruce's love.

With Stephanie... things were different. She didn't live at the manor. She had a father, albeit a bad one, and Bruce didn't want to give her another one of those.

But he still left her notes, information, or clues, things that gave her autonomy for a bit, let her work still "alone" as Spoiler, but kept her connected to him. To Robin. And when she died...

Bruce gave every letter to Leslie. Not because he knew, exactly, but because he knew she was closer to Stephanie, and he couldn't have them at home. Couldn't look at them.

Leslie gave every one to Steph. Who read them. Sometimes. Enough times that when she came back, she wasn't as hard on Bruce. Enough times that she let him hug her. And came over for dinner. And never regretted being Robin. Enough times to admit she loved him too. And that he would never be her father. Because at his core, he was a good person, and Arthur Brown was not that.

With Cassandra, Bruce didn't write letters. Not only because Cass couldn't read, but because she could read him. And no words were necessary. For once, he could love someone in silence.

With Damian, words came easier, somehow. Maybe because Damian needed words, needed the commands to be spoken aloud, needed the reprimand or the praise. He needed the tone, couldn't weed it out of what Bruce had written like the others, needed the verbal confirmation or denial.

Bruce needed the words to. To tell his son it was alright to mess up, to make mistakes. He needed to words to reassure his son that harsh language was the extent of what he was going to get. That punishment wasn't physical in their world. In his home.

He wrote Damian letters too, of course, in the case his youngest might feel excluded, but usually only at special occasions, a card for his birthday, or a quick poem to brighten his day.

And words... words came easier now. After so many. It was easier to tell Damian what he needed, aloud as well as on paper. It was easier to speak, to not stumble over his words, to praise and apologize. A good thing too, because Damian needed it. And maybe... maybe Bruce did too.

[apdreadful]

I’ve decided that from here forward I’m writing Tommy and Buck/Evan as long term canon. In the words of Buck himself “Who cares?!”

I get the feeling that Tommy is difficult to get really angry. Mostly based on his past. And his general roll with the punches attitude thus far. So I don’t foresee a lot of strife or fighting in his future with Buck. Except the first time Tommy experiences the after of that big marshmallow Evan Buckley doing something really dangerous and reckless..again.

And Tommy who never gets angry, who never shouts at Buck, who flew a helicopter into a goddamn hurricane in the middle of the ocean, really loses his shit this time because Buck cannot understand why Tommy is so upset that he dropped into a dangerous situation against orders AGAIN.

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from shouting “Bobby told you not to go in. He told you not to risk it. That the floors were too unstable”

“There could have been someone left” Buck replies “Someone needed to check. It had to be me”

“Why? Because you’re fucking super human? The great Buck Buckley from the 118 who scoffs at danger, has survived a tsunami, getting trapped beneath a fire truck, throwing a blood clot, and was officially dead for three minutes after getting struck by FUCKING LIGHTNING!”

“How do you know about all of that?”

“That isn’t what matters”

“I think it is” Buck takes a step toward Tommy “Have you been stalking me babe?”

Noticing the mischievous smile Tommy shakes his head “Oh no no no. You are not going to adorable your way out of this”

Bucks shoulders sag and he sighs “I’m ok Tommy. Not even a scratch”

“I can see that” Tommy lets out a deep exhale “I understand the risks of the job. I’m not like your exes who would get all distraught over you removing a cat from a tree. But for fucks sake, you are worse than the EOD guys when I was in Afghanistan with the walking - or in your case running or jumping- right into the worst case scenario with no thought of your own safety” Rubbing his forehead he continues “Evan. You’ve got a savior complex and it’s noble and selfless..”

Buck cuts him off “It’s not a savior complex. I’m not stupid. I understand that sometimes no matter what you do you can’t save them. But sometimes maybe you can, and in those cases, I just make the most sense”

Tommy crosses his arms to keep from strangling him or kissing him stupid again to shut him up “How is that? How does you possibly dying make any sense?”

“They all have people that need them. They all have someone they belong to and..” he trails off with a small shrug

And Tommy hears the words he doesn’t say. He is…expendable. And just like that all of the anger drains out of Tommy to be replaced by a something else. “Evan” he says softly.

“I know” Buck interjects “I know that people love me and they would be sad, especially Maddie. And I don’t want to die. But I don’t want someone who has someone they need, and that needs them, to die either. I couldn’t live with that”

Tommy closes his eyes. This man..How can he be so adorable and selfless, yet so completely stubborn and a pain in the ass about his own safety?

Once he calms his thoughts and finds the words he wants to say, he opens his eyes to see Evan looking at him calmly. Like he expects Tommy to see the sense in what he said.

“Evan. I know we haven’t really put a label on this. On us. But that’s because I don’t want to pressure you. I’m the first man you’ve been with and you’re still figuring out who you are, and I understand that. But let me clarify something for you. I need you to come back to me. Ok?”

Buck blinks “Huh”

“I need you to come back to me” he repeats “Like Bobby needs Athena, and Karen needs Hen, and yes like Maddie needs Chimney.

“And Jee-un. Jee-yun needs her dad”

“Yes, and in that same vein, Christopher needs Eddie” he agrees, trying not to give in to his exasperation. “I need you. I am that person who needs you to come home Evan”

Evan stops whatever he was about to say. Startled awareness creeping into his eyes..Tommy sees a mix of emotions flit across his face. Surprise, joy, fear, everything just races across that expressive face and then Evan sinks onto the barstool at his kitchen island. His hands coming up to cover his face.

Tommy’s stomach clench’s. He pushed too hard, too soon “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do care and want you to come home but..”

Buck looks up at him “Don’t you dare take that back”

“I’m not taking it back. I just don’t want to push you”

Something else crosses Evans face at that..but he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. “You aren’t pushing. You aren’t pressuring me. I am in this just as much as you. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding lame and emo as shit”

“Did you just hear me? You can say anything to me Evan. Whatever it is”

Buck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth again. “I’ve never questioned why I do this…I mean it’s the whole reason I was born. To save my brother. To save Daniel. That’s what I do, that’s who I am. It’s why I became a firefighter. To be the one who saves people. The 118 is my family. And I would do anything to protect them from harm”

“I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that. I just want to remind you that you matter to a lot of people, and you also have someone who is waiting for you”

Bucks voice is thick “I know that. I get that. But…Nobody has ever. I have never belonged to anyone, like that”

In a sense of deja vu Tommy closes the short distance to Buck. Tipping his face up, he kisses him. Not soft and gentle like their first kiss in this kitchen. But bold and deep. Branding Evan with his mouth. Pulling back he says fiercely “You belong to me like that. For as long as you want..you belong to me and I belong to you, like that”

“I will ALWAYS need you to come back to me Evan”

ao3 like per request

[mnnuni]

Marked

Summary: (Y/N)'s relationship with Buck and Eddie is discovered.

Words:

Warnings: smut

Buck and Eddie's relationship was still kinda a secret for the public eye; well kinda because they weren't sure of sharing it yet but they weren't subtle at all with those shared looks and hidden touches. The 118 all knew about them, they were only waiting for them to have the courage to tell them.

The crew of firefighters was so proud of themselves for figuring it out: Hen brought it up one night when they were hanging out at Athena and Bobby's house and the two men conveniently left early together.

"I name it, they're totally involved" Chimney was a little confused, "what do you mean? Of course they are, they're best friends"

Athena smacked him around the head "What Hen means is...", she was thinking of a way of saying it nicely "they get each other steam off" finished Bobby. Hen and Athena nodded, the five different expressions that passed through Chimney's face were hilarious to Maddie "I can't believe you didn't notice".

What they all also didn't notice was that that night there was another person absent: their girlfriend, (Y/N).

She was way more private than them at the station, because she saw how Eddie and Buck acted around each other and let's just say even a blind could catch that they were in love; that's why she was never too close to them to be suspected. When Hen asked her about her romantic life she said "they" and "them", but everyone just assumed it was just a person who would go by these pronouns not that there were actually two people.

(Y/N) also knew that her boyfriends had their fair shares of problems with their closets and she surely wouldn't be the one to out them to their family.

The only 118 member who knew was Ravi. Poor kid caught them exiting the same room, still adjusting their uniform. From that moment (Y/N) avoided every contact with them at work and got closer to Ravi too. He was her true best friend.

"so... what are you doing for them tonight?" Ravi asked her while they were cooking for the team, "huh?" (Y/N) said looking at him from the oven; Ravi looked around, making sure no one was watching them and whispered "you know... today's your anniversary, didn't you do something?"

(Y/N) smiled. Today her, Buck and Eddie were celebrating six months officially together. "I can't believe you remembered" she hugged him tight "of course i did, how could i forget?"

It was funny how Buck was flaring his nostrils at the sign of (Y/N) talking with Ravi while he had his hands on her waist. Eddie had to put his hand on his knee, "you know they're only friends" "still..." he rolled his eyes. (Y/N) was actually describing him the details of the dinner she had planned that night; she was so ecxited to finally go out in public with them. Ravi was really happy for her, so happy that at the end of the shift he went to Buck and Eddie and told them to be careful "she really loves you, both of you, don't screw up tonight"

He knew he only made their nerves worse, but he had to because (Y/N) really deserved the world and he knew those two idiots would give her everything she needed. He was still her best friends tough, it was his job to scare her boyfriends.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) only texted them the address. "Dress fancy" the sole indication.

Evan stomach was a mess. Eddie was literally sweating. They decided to get ready together; that didn't help them one bit because after getting nearly late for a too long shower together, they were second-guessing everything.

Their anxiety seemed to stop only when they spotted (Y/N) at the bar in the restaurant. She was wearing a long strapless black dress, her hair were down and naturally curled and her lips were tinted red. Buck had to touch Eddie's hand to make sure he wasn't imagining that wonderful woman in front of them. It was the first time Eddie took his hand in his in a so crowded place and just by this (Y/N) knew this would have been a magical night.

They were seated in a corner in the garden, the table was so small that (Y/N)'s legs touched both Eddie and Buck's ones. It was just how she pictured it would be: the light lights illuminated Buck's freackles ever so gently, the roses'perfume made Eddie scrunch his nose in a way that made (Y/N) want to kiss him everytime and the night breeze was a perfect excuse for them to touch her arms or shoulders constantly because of the fact she was withouth a jacket. And it was even better to see Evan and Eddie actually be confortable to act like a couple all together.

Ravi's words really helped.

When Evan put his coat over (Y/N)'s shoulder as she whispered to them "maybe you should come to mine's for dessert", Eddie's eyes sparkled and Buck's hand on her tightned.

Evan didn't drive so fast even in the truck. The air was filled with anticipation but (Y/N) had decided that because this was a special night it would go slow and good. As a matter of fact, when they entered her flat she really had a dessert ready for them and she took it out of the oven swinging her hips ever so slightly.

"Uhm baby, we thought ehm..." Buck looked at Eddie for support while (Y/N) took three forkes "we hoped for another type of cake" the other man finished. (Y/N) chuckled "don't worry my loves, this cake just needs time" she winked and took a bite of the chocolate pastry; she really knew how to turn on her boys.

"Now, eat. I'll come back in five" with that she went to her bedroom and locked the door. Buck and Eddie could only listen to her and wait. They were under the impression she took more than five minutes because when she came back they finished half the cake and were now kissing on the couch, Eddie said he missed Buck's lips and he surely couldn't deny them to him. They already took off their jacket and were starting to unbutton their shirt when (Y/N) cleared her throat and they departed from each other; she was wearing a silky robe and a devious grin on her face. (Y/N) didn't say anything, only took their hands and guided them in the bedroom.

"Because you were so good tonight accepting to go out with me, I want to make it up to you" and with that she took a rope from the pocket of the robe. The guys were having the time of their lives while she tied them to the headboard, she put them in a way they could touch each other's hands, like a way to compensate the fact they couldn't touch her. When she was done (Y/N) finally took off her robe.

"Holy shit" Buck breathed out.

She was wearing a red lace bodysuit and garters and with only this sight Eddie and Evan tried to untie themselves. "I'm a firefighter baby, don't even try", Buck's cock twitched in his boxers. (Y/N) got them naked painfully slow and Eddie started to complain; that's why she started working on Evan first.

She kissed him softly on the lips and got down from the neck to the waist licking him, his breath became heavier when she stopped, eyes on his tip. She kissed it too and then put it in her mouth.

"Oh God". Evan really liked when she worked her magic on him this slowly; Eddie next to him could only focus on her ass and be satisfied but when her hand touched his leg and started going near his balls he grunted. (Y/N) smirked on Evan's cock and he pushed his hips up. She was bobbing her head up and down faster and stroking Eddie's dick too, so fast they were both moaning.

"I-I'm cuming" Evan was practically a mess.

"Come on big boy, you're doing so good"

Hearing Eddie praise him was the last straw; Evan came so hard it made (Y/N) even wetter. When she was done sucking all his cum (Y/N) got up "you're soo good baby" she caressed Buck's cheeck and turned to Eddie "want a taste?", he nodded excited. Buck was trying to catch his breath while (Y/N) straddled Eddie's lap to kiss him. She tasted of Buck. (Y/N) lowered herself on him and Eddie moaned in the kiss at the feeling of his girlfriend pussy on him.

"It's your turn to fell good now honey"

(Y/N) unzipped her bodysuit at a slow pace and while she cupped one of her breast for show, she finished getting undressed. Buck was quickly recovering already.

She lowered her body on Eddie and started grinding her hips to lube his cock with her wetness; when she picked his dick in her hand and came down on it Eddie almost cried out loud. Usually Buck was the loudest, maybe she teased him too much this time. (Y/N) didn't complain tough, hearing her boyfriends moan only added fuel to the fire. Now she was breathing heavily too and really needed their hands on her body, so she leaned over and untied them.

Eddie didn't waste a second and flipped them over to start thrusting into her, "You feel so good mi amor".

(Y/N) tightened her legs to his hips as Buck got in between them to touch her clit. Now (Y/N) was the loudest; she tried to be quite but the stimulation was just too much that she gripped both her boyfriends' shoulder and scratched them. This only made them move faster.

"Come on baby, be a good girl for us"

She whined their names.

"So fucking tight hermosa"

Buck was sucking on her tit while he pinched her clit and made her scream.

It was the best orgasm she ever had, because when she came down her high she felt Eddie's cum on her stomach and it was so fucking hot.

When they got her all cleaned up and ready for sleep -after other two rounds-, (Y/N) told them how grateful she was to have them loving her and kissed them goodnight and Buck and Eddie felt the luckiest guys in the whole world.

-------------------------------------------------------

The next day (Y/N) was the happiest she ever was in at least two weeks (Buck cooked breakfast for her and Eddie made her bag for her) and all the station noticed. Also because she wasn't complaining about anything after one of the most tiring calls of all day;

They were changing in the locker room and Ravi approached her "I'm guessing it went well", she smiled only thinking about it "marvellous" (Y/N) answer.

"What went so good?" asked Hen as she got near them too, "little (Y/N) here had a date"

One of these days she would kill Ravi

"Oh you didn't go out in a while..." intruded Chimney, 'cause of course he would be there too.

"Yeah, that's because it was a special night" she was lost in her locker when Hen spoke again.

"They had a special night too"

"damn"

The confusion on (Y/N)'s face soon washed over when she turned around and understood what they were talking about: at the other side of the room Buck and Eddie were changing their shirt and were unconsciously showing off some big scratches on their back. (Y/N)'s scratches from last night. They were so red and so much; how couldn't they notice?

Then it hit her: they were practically identical, everyone would have known they were from the same person.

At this point every bit of dignity already left (Y/N)'s body when she run off to them.

"put a shirt on, now." She hissed.

Buck was so confused...then he looked at Eddie

"hooly shit". He was fast to cover himself up and Eddie followed him even if he didn't understand yet.

"i May or May not have left some...marks" she tried to say it in the gentlest of ways but the damage was already done.

All of their team was watching them.

-------------------------------------------------------

Ravi thought dinner would have been awkward; he was absolutely fucking right.

Buck, Eddie and (Y/N) were avoiding eye contact with everyone. Hen was waiting for an explanation with a smirk on her lips. Bobby was searching words for a reassuring speech after the inevitable talk, and Chimney was so fucking confused that at some point he bursted "Can somebody talk about it, please?"

(Y/N) looked at Eddie and Buck for permission, if they weren't ready she would have had come up with a lie without questions. They deserved to be out when they felt like it.

But Eddie took Buck's hand in his and started talking "we're together."

Evan felt a rock being left off his stomach, so he then took (Y/N)'s hand and continued "all three of us".

She only smiled at them.

There was a minute of silence when they thought they had made a big mistake, and everything was starting to crumble. But again, Hen spoke "fucking finally"

"Y-you knew?" (Y/N) had to start draw circles on Buck's hand.

"Of you and Eddie? Of course! (Y/N) is... A pleasant surprise" she blushed at this.

"so...you're okay with this?" Eddie was the one to ask the question they feared the most. It was obvious to (Y/N) that the 118 wouldn't have said anything but for two newly queer men... She understood the uncertainty.

"Why wouldn't we?" Chimney answered

"Yeah, you're all happy, that's what matters to us" Bobby finished.

There was another moment of silence after, where everyone was accommodating to the news.

Ravi saw the perfect opportunity to say what he wanted to say for months now: "I knew it first!"

[ellswritings]

I Knew You Were Trouble

Ex!Evan Buckley x reader

Eddie Diaz x reader

TW: Emotional and physical cheating (from Buck), heartbroken reader, 118 supporting reader, Eddie picking up the pieces, angsty fluff.

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

Evan Buckley. The moment his piercing blue eyes showed up at the 118, Y/N knew she was in for it. His flirty smile, the forward flirting, it was hard not to fall for it. Y/N has never been the type to fall for a guy just because he flashes a smile, but something about the way his nose crinkled whenever he grinned at her, it made her heart flutter.

Y/N L/N has always had a strong personality. She was part of the LAPD for five years before going through the Fire academy. She was the best in both of her fields. Always professional, super playful, witty, reasonable, and always down for a good time. That’s why she fit in so well with the team at the 118 when she was placed there. Hen and Chimney were the first two she met, then Captain Bobby Nash came rolling in. He clicked seamlessly with them too. And then… Buck.

On paper, he was perfect. At least in Y/N’s eyes he was. Despite his constant need to go against Bobby’s orders, she could never truly dislike the boy. Did she think he could be irrational and dumb sometimes? Absolutely. But that’s one of the things she found endearing about him.

And that’s also the reason he fell for her. Everyone on the team treated him like some idiot kid who was just a ticking time bomb. But not Y/N. She treated him like an equal, like a partner. Even when he immaturely would flirt with her on shift, tease her, blatantly but playfully check her out, she still never once genuinely got irritated with him.

So when the two of them started dating, the team wasn’t necessarily surprised. It was around that time a new recruit came into the 118. Edmundo Diaz, or as he likes to go by, Eddie. He was the missing piece the 118 needed. It felt like a full fledged family when Eddie showed up. He and Buck didn’t get along at first, but Y/N, being the effervescent force she is, managed to make them get along.

The team was amazing. Going on calls was a breeze because they all just worked so well together. Even team outings were an absolute blast because everyone got along. They are truly one big happy family.

Of course though, Eddie, Buck, and Y/N always had a deeper connection with each other than the others. Perhaps it’s because they’re so close in age, but they truly just clicked. When Eddie originally showed up to the firehouse, he wasn’t oblivious to how genuinely beautiful Y/N is. Her infectious smile and booming laugh would catch any man or woman’s attention. He would have pursued her if Buck hadn’t already won that battle.

They were always relatively professional at the job. Out of the two of them, Buck seemed to have the hardest time keeping his hands off of her. Stealing kisses here and there, smacking her behind when he thinks no one’s looking. They were happy, and anyone with eyes could see it.

At least until Taylor Kelly came into the picture.

When they got the call that her news helicopter had a mechanical failure, no one really thought anything would’ve came out of it. Y/N was pretty much in the midst of all of it, being the one to pull Taylor out of the situation while the rest of the group helped her crew and got the copter under control.

However, despite Y/N saving her life, the redheads attention was solely focused on Buck. Something that not only Y/N noticed, but the rest of the team.

It only got worse when Taylor showed up to the firehouse, claiming she would be following the 118 crew around until she felt comfortable enough to go back into the sky. Not only was Bobby annoyed, but Y/N wasn’t too thrilled to be seeing her around. Especially with the way she’s been paying special attention to her boyfriend.

Now, Y/N has never been the jealous type. She knows Buck is good looking and that other people are bound to think so too. Whenever they go out, there’s always one or two drunk individuals that try to slip him their number, but he’s never entertained any of them. After the whole Abby fiasco, his eyes have only ever been on Y/N.

That’s why she tried her hardest to ignore Taylor’s persistent behavior. She also tried to ignore how much Buck seemed to enjoy the attention. She had to remind herself of how much she loves and trusts Evan Buckley. Still, some reassurance would’ve been nice.

Anytime she’d talk to Hen and Athena about it, they’d share a look before saying that it’s just Buck’s personality. He’s a flirty guy. But that he’s never been as committed to someone as he is to her. That was always nice to hear. Even Chimney and Bobby found small ways to tell her that she has nothing to worry about.

That’s why it stung so much to walk into her apartment, one that she asked Buck to move into to get him out of Abby’s, only to find him and Taylor naked on her couch.

Her entire world crashed down around her that night. Neither of them seemed to even hear her walk in as they were still mid action and didn’t look like they were stopping anytime soon.

Y/N being as quick witted as she is, snapped a photo of their dalliance before spinning on her heel and slamming the door behind her. Anger, hurt, frustration, grief, any emotion someone could think of, she felt it that night. As soon as she got in her car, tears started flowing freely down her face. She had no idea what she was going to do with that photo. Some part of her just knew she needed proof, a reminder of what she just saw. Because she knows as soon as Buck comes crawling back to apologize, she’d forgive him in an instant.

That’s why she picked staying in her car for the night over going back there. Even though it’s her apartment, her safe space, she couldn’t bear going back. Not right now at least. Every single call he made went without an answer, all the texts, emails, all of it. She didn’t even bother to read.

Sleep didn’t come easy for the poor woman. In fact, it didn’t come at all. She simply stared out her front window, arms crossed as she buried herself deeper into her hoodie. So when the sun came out, Y/N couldn’t have been more relieved. Work was the one place where she wouldn’t have to confront this. Maintaining professionalism is of the utmost importance to her, so for the next twelve hours, she can shove all of these issues to the side.

Y/N walked into the 118 station that morning with an air of quiet fury. Her normally upbeat energy was replaced by a stiff, almost mechanical demeanor. The shift in her mood was impossible to miss. Her jaw was set, her eyes distant, and the usual lightness in her step was gone, replaced by rigid, purposeful movements. She walked past the common area without so much as a word, heading straight to the locker room to stow her gear.

The station was never completely quiet, but as Y/N entered, it felt like the atmosphere shifted, as though everyone unconsciously held their breath. Bobby was the first to notice her as she passed by his office.

“Morning, Y/N,” he greeted her, his usual warm smile in place. But Y/N, normally quick with a bright ‘Good morning,’ barely glanced his way.

“Hey, Cap,” she muttered, not slowing her pace. Her voice was flat, a stark contrast to her usual chipper tone.

Bobby frowned, watching her as she moved further into the station. He’d been a captain long enough to know when one of his firefighters was struggling with something, and Y/N’s behavior set off alarm bells in his mind. She wasn’t being rude—she was too professional for that—but her unusually short response made it clear something was off.

Y/N reached her locker, tugging it open with more force than necessary. Her hands moved quickly as she shoved her bag inside, not caring that it landed haphazardly. She was wound so tightly that every movement seemed deliberate, controlled, like she was holding back a flood of emotions threatening to escape.

Hen, who had been watching from the other side of the room, approached carefully. She knew Y/N well enough to see that something was seriously wrong. Normally, Y/N would joke about the early mornings or make some witty comment to lighten the mood, but today, she was all business.

“Hey, Y/N,” Hen said softly, leaning against the lockers beside her. “You okay?”

Y/N paused, her hands gripping the edge of her locker door for a moment before letting out a sharp exhale. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied curtly, closing the locker with a loud clang.

Hen didn’t buy it, and neither did the rest of the team, who were now quietly exchanging glances from across the room. Chimney, watching from the doorway, nudged Eddie.

“Something’s definitely up,” Chim whispered. “She doesn’t look like she’s slept.”

Eddie’s gaze was fixed on Y/N, his brows furrowed in concern. She was usually the first to crack a joke, the one to bring energy into the room, but today, her whole demeanor was different. She was stiff, guarded, and Eddie could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was holding herself together with an almost frightening precision.

“Y/N,” Eddie called out softly as he approached. “You sure you’re okay?”

Y/N glanced at him briefly before looking away, her lips pressed into a thin line. She appreciated the concern, but she didn’t want to get into it—not here, not now. “I’m fine, Eddie,” she said, her voice clipped but not harsh.

Eddie didn’t push, though his eyes stayed on her, worry etched in every line of his face. He knew Y/N well enough to know that ‘fine’ wasn’t fine at all.

As Y/N moved through the rest of her morning routine, the tension around her only grew. Her movements were brisk, efficient, but there was a hardness to her that wasn’t normally there. She didn’t engage in small talk, didn’t banter with the team like usual. The shift in her behavior was like a cloud hanging over the station, and everyone could feel it.

Then Buck walked in, his entrance loud and hurried, as though he was already feeling the weight of the guilt on his shoulders. He looked disheveled, like he hadn’t slept, and his eyes immediately locked onto Y/N.

Her entire body tensed the moment he entered. She could feel his presence without even looking at him, the air between them thick with unresolved tension. She didn’t want to deal with this right now—especially not at work. But Buck, clearly desperate to make things right, approached her anyway.

“Y/N, can we talk? Please?” Buck’s voice was quiet but urgent as he moved toward her.

Y/N stiffened even more, her back straightening as she turned to face him. Her eyes were cold, and her lips pressed into a tight, thin line. “Now’s not the time or place, Evan.”

He flinches at the cold use of his first name, “Please, Y/N, I just… I need to explain,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he took another step closer.

Y/N tenses, her grip tightening around the locker door. She swallows hard, mortified that he’s bringing this up here, in front of everyone. She glances around and sees Chimney and Eddie looking at Buck with something akin to disgust. Hen’s brow is furrowed in confusion, and even Bobby has stopped pretending to read the morning paper.

Y/N hesitated, hating that he’s cornering her in the only other place she thought she’d be safe. The woman was trying so hard to stay professional, but he wasn’t making it easy. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the station on her, and the last thing she wanted was to make a scene.

“Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth, motioning for him to follow her to a quieter corner of the station.

Once they were away from the rest of the team, Buck wasted no time. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed with anger, her composure slipping just a little. “You didn’t mean for it to happen?” she repeated, her voice low and dangerous. “You’re telling me you just accidentally ended up screwing Taylor on my couch?”

Buck winced at her words, his guilt written all over his face. “I—I wasn’t thinking. I was confused.”

“Confused?” Y/N’s voice was sharper now, her anger bubbling to the surface. “That’s your excuse? You didn’t know what you were doing?”

“I was in a bad headspace, Y/N. It just—” Buck struggled for words, clearly not understanding how badly he was making things. “It didn’t mean anything. You and me, we’re the real thing. That with Taylor… it was just a mistake.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, disbelief and fury warring in her chest. “A mistake?” she echoed, her voice trembling with the effort of holding back her rage. “No,” she scoffs. “No. No, a mistake is when you lose your keys. What you did was make a blatant choice without thinking of the consequences.”

Buck’s face flushed, and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. Please, I can’t lose you.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you cheated on me!” Y/N snapped, her voice rising. The anger she had been holding back all morning finally erupted, spilling out into the open. Her words echoed through the station, drawing the attention of everyone around them.

Buck’s face paled as he realized the entire team had heard her outburst. He looked around, embarrassment flooding him, but Y/N didn’t care. She was too angry, too hurt to worry about how this looked.

“Y/N—”

“No, Buck!” she yelled, her hands trembling as she tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. “You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to stand here and pretend like it didn’t mean anything. You cheated on me. You lied to me. And now you want me to just… what? Forgive you because it didn’t ‘mean anything’?” She shakes her head, failing at stopping herself from making the situation worse. “You try to act like you’ve changed, but you’re still the same freakin’ playboy who had sex with every girl who paid him the slightest bit of attention.”

The station was dead silent. The rest of the team, though trying not to stare, couldn’t help but listen to every word.

Buck’s mouth opened and closed as he struggled for a response, but nothing came out. The weight of Y/N’s words seemed to hit him all at once, and the guilt that had been simmering beneath the surface came crashing down on him.

Before Buck could say anything else, Y/N shook her head, her voice breaking. “I can’t do this anymore. I– I just– I can’t. We’re done.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her heart pounding, her face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

The silence in the station hung heavy until Hen was the first to break it, her voice firm. “What the hell, Buck?”

Chimney sighed, his disappointment evident. “You messed up, man. You don’t do that to someone like Y/N.”

Bobby, usually the voice of reason, stepped in, his tone stern. “You need to figure out how you’re going to make this right. But more importantly, you need to take responsibility for your actions, Buck. This wasn’t just a mistake. It’s a breach of trust. We don’t do things like that to each other.”

Buck looked around, his face pale as he realized just how badly he had screwed up. But it was Eddie who delivered the harshest blow. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing with barely concealed anger.

“You had something good, Buck,” Eddie said, his voice low but full of emotion. “And you threw it away. She deserved better than that. Better than you.”

Buck’s face fell, the weight of Eddie’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. Eddie never spoke like that—especially not to his friends—but this was different. This was Y/N. And Eddie wasn’t just mad—he was furious.

As Buck stood there, looking like the ground had been ripped out from under him, Eddie turned on his heel and followed Y/N outside. He found her pacing near one of the firetrucks, her hands shaking as she tried to calm herself down.

“Y/N,” Eddie called out softly.

She paused, glancing up at him, her eyes red and glassy. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though it was clear she wasn’t. She won’t let any actual tears fall. Not here. Not at work. She can’t lose it.

Eddie sighs before taking a gentle step forward. He stops her pacing by grabbing her hands as delicately as possible. He can feel the furious energy buzzing through her skin. It’s a rage similar to his own. As he looks into her gorgeous (e/c) eyes, his anger morphs into pain. His heart aches at how broken she looks. She trusted Buck with every fiber of her being and he took it for granted. He took her for granted. How could he throw away such a beautiful soul?

“No, mariposa, you’re not,” he shakes his head. His deep chocolate gaze makes her shoulders slump. Her tense posture falls, knowing that there’s no point in lying to him. For whatever reason, Eddie has always been able to read her like an open book. She couldn’t keep secrets with him. He knew them before she even knew herself. “Everything that happened in there… that’s not fine. So please, don’t pretend with me.”

Y/N finally forced herself to open up. She exhales shakily, blowing a big puff of air out as she laughs brokenly. A small sniffle escapes her, “It just… hurts, y’know? I mean, I kinda picked up on something weird with them, but I thought I was just being paranoid,” she looks back down at her boot-clad feet. “I try not to be jealous, I feel like it makes me look crazy. But… I guess I should’ve trusted my gut.” She sends a halfhearted glare over at Buck who’s still standing in the middle of the fire station, trying to avoid everyone’s wrath. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Hey,” Eddie stops her, a serious look on his face. He moves one hand to cup her chin, forcing her to look back at him. “You are not the idiot in this situation. He is,” he nods in Buck’s direction. “He didn’t see the amazing woman he had right in front of him. He’s the biggest damn idiot in the world for losing you.”

Y/N feels like she can let her walls crumble around Eddie. There’s something about the way his strong presence grounds her, silently reassuring her that he’s there, that he’s supporting her. She relaxes into his soft touch, “I just… I don’t know what I’m gonna do now. I mean, he lives with me.”

Eddie hesitates for a moment before pulling her fully into him, wrapping his arms around her as she rests her head on his chest. “Well, the best answer I can give you is that you continue being you. And trust me, there’s someone out there who’s going to see how incredible you are and never take it for granted. Someone who would treat you like the gem you are.” He pauses before planting a soft kiss on her forehead, “And if you want, you can always stay with Chris and I until he gets all of his stuff cleared out.”

Y/N looks up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I think I might take you up on that.” She swallows, trying to keep herself together. “But… what if I don’t want to go through all of that again? Maybe I’m not meant to find anyone else. What if I’m just…done with relationships?”

Eddie’s expression softened even further. He knew how hard this was for her, and part of him hated seeing her in so much pain, especially because of someone like Buck. But he also knew she was stronger than she gave herself credit for. “You’re not done, Y/N. You’re just hurt right now. But you’ll heal, and when you’re ready, you’ll move on. And when that happens, you’ll find someone who’s going to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

Y/N searched his face for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. There was something in the way Eddie was looking at her—something she hadn’t noticed before. A tenderness, an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

She blinked, trying to shake off the feeling. Now wasn’t the time. “Thanks, Eddie,” she whispered, her voice shaky but sincere.

He gave her a small smile, his hand lingering near hers for just a moment longer before he stepped back. “Anytime.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Eddie wanted to tell her that he was there for her in more ways than just friendship, but he knew this wasn’t the right moment. Y/N had just been through hell, and she needed space to heal.

But he also knew that if she ever needed him—really needed him—he’d be there without hesitation.

Before Y/N could respond, the station doors opened, and Hen walked out, giving them both a look. “Everything alright out here?”

Y/N straightened up, wiping her face quickly and nodding. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Hen gave her a knowing look but didn’t push. “Alright. We’re heading out for a call in a few minutes, so just wanted to make sure you were ready.”

Y/N took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the day ahead. “I’m ready,” she said, her voice more steady now.

Hen nodded and headed back inside, leaving Y/N and Eddie standing there in the quiet. Eddie looked at her one last time, his eyes filled with a silent promise. “You’ve got this.”

Y/N nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. I’ve got this.”

As they walked back inside together, the weight of the day ahead still heavy on Y/N’s shoulders, she knew that it was going to take time to fully heal. But with Eddie by her side and the support of the rest of her team, she knew she wasn’t facing it alone.

And as for Buck? She wasn’t sure what the future held, but one thing was clear: she deserved better than what he had given her. And one day, she’d find it. But for now, she’d focus on what she did best—being a damn good firefighter and an even better person.

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

Working a twelve hour shift on absolutely no sleep had to have been the worst decision Y/N could have made. It’s not that she isn’t capable of doing her job, it’s just her emotions were already on overdrive after seeing Buck, but now that exhaustion is kicking in, it’s not good for anyone.

She pulls the hair tie out of her hair as she grabs the remaining items from her locker. Her eyes travel over to Eddie who is already waiting by the entrance of the firehouse for her. He sends her a small smile and she returns it, a small flutter in her chest catching her off guard. Y/N internally scolds herself for staring too long. She’s always found Eddie attractive, but she just got out of a relationship with Buck. Now is not the time to be casting ogling glances to Eddie.

She slings her bag over her shoulder before heading out of the locker room. Thankfully, she has enough clothes in her bag for the next few days to bring to Eddie’s so she doesn’t have to go back home. She bids a proper goodbye to everyone, narrowly avoiding Buck who just walked out of the showers. He looks like a wounded puppy when he watches Y/N walk away.

He walks away dejectedly, trying to avoid the angry stares from the rest of the team. Y/N feels a certain level of safety as she continues growing closer to the Diaz man. To her dismay though, someone felt the need to disrupt her journey.

Taylor.

“Y/N, can I speak with you for a moment?” She asks, tilting her head in a way that makes Y/N clench her jaw.

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea,” Y/N replies smoothly.

Taylor persists, “I’m just asking for a second of your time.”

“To interview me professionally or to try and explain why you were butt ass naked on my couch?” Y/N raises a confrontational eyebrow, yet her tone remains collected. Taylor purses her lips, trying to fight off her own embarrassment as more people in the firehouse look over to them. Eddie takes a few steps closer, getting ready to intervene if needed.

“Look, you have every right to be angry–”

“Oh, I know,” Y/N nods, crossing her arms. “I don’t need your permission or you to tell me I have the right to do anything.”

Taylor sucks in a deep breath, clearly getting impatient. “I just think that maybe you’re being too hard on Buck. He really was in a rough place. I think you owe it to him to hear him out.”

“Really?” Y/N lets out a humorless laugh. “I owe him? Oh sweetheart, I don’t owe anyone anything,” she shakes her head, taking a step forward with a condescending smile. “He made his bed, or in this case, the couch, so now he can lay in it,” she shrugs nonchalantly. Y/N looks Taylor up and down before scoffing, “You two deserve each other…” she grumbles before shoulder checking the journalist and finishing her journey over to Eddie.

He watches her with an impressed look on his face, “How’d that feel?” He asks with a small grin.

“So good,” Y/N breathes out with a victorious sighs. “If I could’ve punched her without getting fired, I would have.”

Eddie chuckles, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he walks her out of the firehouse. “You’re too professional for that.”

“Yeah… I suppose,” Y/N leans into his side.

“Hey, why don’t you ride home with me?” Eddie suggests. “Since you’re staying at my place, we could just carpool in the morning.”

“I can’t just leave my car here,” Y/N says logically.

“You can get it tomorrow,” he brushes off, guiding her over to his vehicle. “C’mon… it’ll be fun. I’ll let you play Hamilton on the way,” he grins, knowing that’ll get her to say yes.

Y/N sighs reluctantly but ultimately ends up hightailing it towards Eddie’s car. It makes her flush at the thought that he pays that much attention to her and the things she likes. She loves musicals and everything related to theatre. It’s a guilty pleasure she’s had since middle school.

The moment they walked into Eddie's house, Christopher came sprinting toward them, his excitement contagious.

“Y/N!” he called, throwing his arms around her waist. “Are you staying over?”

“For a little while,” Y/N said, ruffling his hair. “Think you can put up with me?”

Christopher grinned. “Only if we make cookies.”

Y/N looked at Eddie, raising a brow. “That okay with you, Chef Diaz?”

Eddie smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I guess I can allow it. But don’t think you’re getting out of clean-up duty.”

Christopher grabbed Y/N’s hand, dragging her toward the kitchen. “C’mon! I already know where the chocolate chips are!”

Eddie followed, shaking his head with amusement as he grabbed an apron. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger,” he teased.

“Oh, please. He’s the boss around here,” Y/N shot back, tying her own apron and bumping Eddie lightly with her hip.

As they worked, the kitchen buzzed with laughter and lighthearted banter. Y/N and Eddie stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the counter while Christopher focused on cracking eggs without shell casualties. Y/N nudged Eddie when she caught him sneaking a handful of chocolate chips.

“You’re supposed to bake with those,” she said, trying to snatch the bag away.

“You’re the one who ate half the dough at the station,” Eddie countered, leaning closer with a playful smirk. “Hypocrite much?”

“Someone had to test it for poison,” she shot back, their faces just inches apart. She realized too late how close they were, her breath catching at the warmth in his eyes.

Eddie cleared his throat, stepping back as he tossed the chips into the mixing bowl. “Poison control. Got it,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Christopher’s cheerful commentary broke the moment, and Y/N refocused, though her heart raced.

Later, as the cookies baked, the three of them sprawled on the couch with mugs of milk and plates of their handiwork. They watched Moana, singing along at Christopher’s insistence, and Y/N felt herself sink into the comfort of it all—a fleeting glimpse of a life she hadn’t realized she wanted.

By the time Christopher went to bed, yawning through his goodnight hug, Y/N felt exhaustion settle over her. Eddie walked back into the living room with a blanket slung over his shoulder.

“You take my bed,” he offered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Eddie,” Y/N protested, “don’t be ridiculous. I can sleep out here.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he said with a crooked grin, tossing the blanket onto the couch.

She hesitated, looking up at him. “I mean… we could just share. Your bed’s big enough, right?”

Eddie froze for a beat, his brows lifting. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Y/N shrugged, trying to sound casual, though her cheeks burned.

He exhaled and nodded. “Alright, but if you snore, I’m kicking you out.”

Later, lying side by side in the quiet of Eddie’s room, Y/N broke the silence. “I thought Buck was the one,” she admits quietly, her eyes falling as she thinks about everything that’s transpired in the past twenty-four hours. “And, y’know, maybe he was… for a while.” She turned her head, meeting Eddie’s steady gaze in the dim light. “But I’d be lying Eddie if I said I never thought about you,” her voices comes out in a whisper, almost like she’s scared of how he’ll react.

Eddie didn’t answer right away, his expression softening. Then, before she could second-guess herself, he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and unguarded, carrying loads of unspoken feelings. When his hand slid to her waist and she deepened the kiss, Eddie pulled back suddenly, resting his forehead against hers.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I can’t… I don’t want to take advantage of you. Not after everything with Buck.”

She nodded, her chest tightening with a mix of disappointment and admiration. “You’re a good man, Eddie.”

He smiled faintly. “I’m trying to be.” A small chuckle leaves his lips, “Believe me, it’s not easy. Not with you here, like this,” he gestures to the closeness between them. “I’ve thought about this more than I’d like to admit. Probably an embarrassing amount of times. And while I would love to continue what just happened, I can’t do that to you. Not when your heart just got broken.”

Y/N reaches over to cup his cheek, “Then maybe you can help me figure out how to fix it.”

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

Over the next few weeks, their connection only grew stronger.

At the station, Eddie would appear beside her with coffee, their hands brushing in ways that felt intentional. Y/N’s laugh came more easily around him, and the team couldn’t help but notice. Hen caught Eddie sneaking glances more than once, and Chimney started placing bets with Bobby about when Eddie would make his move.

At Eddie’s house, Christopher treated Y/N like part of the family. She helped him with homework, played board games, and joined them for Sunday dinners. Eddie would lean against the doorway, watching them, his heart full.

Things finally felt good for Y/N. Like every single piece of her life fit perfectly. She was getting over Buck while still getting along well with the team. She’s been spending a lot of amazing time with Eddie and Chris. She absolutely loves the little boy. It’s like being apart of them and their routine was that little spark she was missing before.

One evening, after dropping Christopher off at a friend’s house, Eddie finally asked her out. “Y/N,” he began, his voice tinged with nervousness. “What would you say if I wanted to take you out for real? Like a date.”

Y/N smiled, her heart soaring. “I’d say it’s about time.”

Their first date was simple: dinner at a small Mexican restaurant Eddie loved, followed by a walk under the stars. They talked for hours, and when Eddie kissed her goodnight, it was everything she’d been waiting for.

Back at the station, their relationship became the team’s favorite topic. Hen teased them mercilessly, and even Chim couldn’t resist joining in. Buck, though initially uncomfortable, eventually came around, admitting that Eddie made Y/N happy in a way he hadn’t.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be—with Eddie, with Christopher, with a future that finally felt whole.

[megalony]

I Need To Help You- Part 2

This is a follow up to my Eddie Diaz imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this one.

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Part 1

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) hasn't been feeling well lately, and when she gets worse while Eddie is at work, Chris has to call him to come home and help.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How far along were you, roughly?"

Leaning forward, (Y/n) crumpled her chest over until it was almost touching her thighs with her arms bound around her middle and her forehead tipped down on her knees. A groan tumbled past her lips and she rode out the tremors that started to rise back through her system again.

Why was nobody listening to her? Why was everyone presuming she was lying to them? Could nobody see this from her point of view? This was the third person to come into their room and start asking the same questions they had answered the first time around when they got here.

"I don't know! Why aren't you l-listening to me?" Uncurling one hand from her stomach, (Y/n) reached behind her and clamped her hand down around Eddie's wrist when he held onto her shoulder. He sat down just behind her on the bed and leaned forward to kiss the back of her neck.

"Do you think we would of had no antenatal care if we knew she was pregnant? Or that we'd have a home birth with no midwife and no fucking help? Until she gave birth we didn't know she was pregnant."

They would have gone to antenatal check ups and had scans and gotten themselves prepared for this if they knew. They wouldn't leave everything until the day (Y/n) gave birth and hope for the best. This wasn't their idea of a joke and it was far from a practical situation.

"W-where is she?" (Y/n) lifted her head up just enough to do a sweep around the room. She felt like she had blacked out when they brought her through the emergency room and into this room. She hadn't realised Hen had left the room until a few minutes later when she suddenly didn't hear her baby's cries anymore. And that had been near enough half an hour ago since they arrived and their daughter still wasn't back yet.

Hen had rode in the back of the ambulance with (Y/n) and Eddie while Chimney drove the ambulance. Bobby had taken the truck back to the station with Buck and Chris who were heading back to Eddie's house now so Buck could watch Chris until tomorrow. And Bobby had done a quick hand over with the B shift and was now on his way here to check how they were all getting on.

"She's gone to get weighed and checked over, then we'll bring her back to you. Your exam looked fine, nothing retained and the bleeding stopped before you arrived which is good. I'm going to give you some pain relief and a few things to level out your system and combat the shock."

"I wanna go home."

(Y/n) couldn't help the whine that burned at the back of her throat and she turned her head to the side to bury her face in Eddie's neck. Her arm looped around the back of his neck and she pushed herself into his chest until he practically pulled her into his lap.

(Y/n) didn't want to stay here. She had been checked out and their daughter was being looked after. But now she wanted to go home. (Y/n) wanted to get some morphine and go home and curl up with Eddie, Chris and their sudden, new addition.

"We can't go home yet-"

"Eddie, please, please." Tears continued to burn down her face as she clutched at Eddie tighter as if gripping onto him for dear life would make him change his mind.

"No, mi amor you've just had a baby, we're staying here. You're gonna be fine, I'm not leaving you here alone." He smoothed his hand up and down her arm, gently swaying them from side to side. He couldn't take her home no matter how desperately he wanted to, but Eddie wasn't going to run off and leave (Y/n) here on her own. He was staying with her until he could take her and their baby back home safe and sound.

"We would like to keep you in overnight for observation and to make sure baby can take her first feed properly, you both need a bit of TLC."

(Y/n) didn't answer. She knew she wasn't being asked, she was being told and she could understand keeping the baby here for a while. She had been a surprise, there could be any number of complications wrong with her and she needed to be watched so they could ensure she would be okay to go home. But (Y/n) didn't want to stay.

"I'll go fetch a nurse to give you the shots and set you up with some fluids." The doctor smiled at them weakly before she turned and headed out the room, leaving the door open when she passed someone outside.

"How are we doing?" Bobby rapped his knuckles on the door and poked his head round, grinning softly when Eddie waved him inside.

He was family, with Eddie's family being back in Texas and his relationship with his own dad being strained, Bobby was almost a surrogate father to him and most of the team. He didn't have to stand and lurk in doorways waiting for permission to come in. Bobby walked over and sat down in the chair on the right side of the bed. And he leaned across to rest his hand comfortingly on (Y/n)'s knee.

"I feel sick." (Y/n) grumbled quietly as she shifted around on the bed. She crossed her legs beneath her and slumped her back up against Eddie's chest, smiling weakly when Eddie's arms curled around her waist. He rubbed his hands soothingly over her aching stomach and pressed his lips to the top of her head with a small smile.

"I can imagine… right, now I've brought some of the paperwork with me to finish up while I stay with you and make sure you're both alright." Bobby didn't want to bombard either of them if they were in too much shock to think and go over things right now. But he suspected that they would want something to take their minds off of things and it would keep them all occupied.

Bobby knew (Y/n) didn't do well in hospitals. He had restrained (Y/n) with Eddie on more than one occasion when she tried to discharge herself from the hospital even though she had been in bad condition. And either way right now, Bobby wasn't going anywhere so he could fill some other forms in if they weren't up to it yet.

He was staying until (Y/n) was checked onto a ward and the baby was given the all clear. Then he would have to make a few calls and sort some cover shifts since Eddie would now be going on leave.

Eddie nodded and ran a hand over his jaw and chin before he went back to keeping his arms tight around (Y/n), holding her into his chest. He began swaying them from left to right as he watched Bobby.

Bobby rummaged around in his pocket for a pen and set all the papers he brought with him down on the little pull across table. He could fill out the incident report on his own when he was back at the station, but he needed to write a few things down now and get ready for Eddie's time off.

There was protocols to follow whenever a family member was taken to hospital or treated out on a call, and (Y/n) was family. And they had to write up what happened on their calls to prove they gave the right treatment, just in case anyone tried to sue.

"You didn't know you were pregnant, right? I just need to be sure."

"No… I thought I was having a prolapse." (Y/n) huffed and glanced down at her hands as she spoke. But keeping her eyes open felt too hard and she was too exhausted to be embarrassed.

She let her eyes close and snuggled down against Eddie's chest, clinging to his arms that were wrapped around her chest and waist. She needed whatever comfort she could get right now and her body was still shaking and spasming in his arms.

She didn't suspect she might be even one month pregnant. She had been waiting just over a month or so for her latest period to happen but she was usually random and late so it wasn't a big deal. Clearly, what she thought was a short period had been spotting during the pregnancy. (Y/n) would have told Eddie if she suspected anything. They had talked, briefly, about starting a family and if she thought that was happening she would have told him.

When the pains got worse (Y/n) thought she was having a prolapse or having some kind of blockage or a hernia. A baby didn't cross her mind at all.

"Okay," Bobby's voice was soft and he briefly gave (Y/n)'s knee a squeeze while he jotted a few more notes down.

This was mainly to cover themselves and so he could get Eddie some emergency annual leave approved. They were supposed to give four weeks notice for any leave they wanted but Eddie couldn't have done that in this situation and he undoubtedly needed time to be home with his family right now.

(Y/n) reached down to grab Eddie's hand and started to mess around with his fingers. She swirled the wedding ring around a few times and traved the pad of her finger up and down his hand with a feather-like touch.

"I don't think the Chief will have a problem with you're early leave. I've approved you for two weeks, if you need any more than that just let me know. I'll pinch someone from another station to cover your shifts."

Bobby hastily wrote a little paragraph, trying to keep his hand steady as possible. It didn't have to be long-winded, his incident report would be long enough and contain all the details. But he needed a brief summary and once Eddie signed off on it, he would be on annual leave as of now.

"I'm sure Maddie will help you get your maternity leave from work, but if you need me to do anything in that regard, I'd be happy to."

A quiet groan left (Y/n)'s lips as she pushed further back into Eddie, feeling tears tracing down the bridge of her nose at the thought of work.

She was supposed to be on shift at dispatch in the morning. She hadn't even told Maddie what had happened or had chance to get hold of Sue and explain that she wouldn't be on shift for the next few months. How was she going to explain this?

'Sorry I can't come into work, I've had a baby?'

No one was going to believe her. They would think she was crazy or had tried to hide the pregnancy. Maddie wasn't going to believe this and (Y/n) had a feeling Buck would have rung her by now anyway to give the gossip and explain what their little sister had gone and done.

"They'll fire me." She mewled, letting the tears splash down her face as she smothered her face into Eddie's arm and curled her knees up to her aching stomach that was on fire.

"No they won't, mi amor."

"How could I not h-have known?"

Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face and the trembling in her system got worse. Eddie pulled his lower lip between his teeth as his cheek brushed against the top of her head. He held her tighter, trying his best to comfort her as he hushed her quietly.

"It happens, baby. Sue will understand, I'll talk to her, don't worry." Eddie had always gotten along with Sue down at dispatch and he knew she was the understanding type.

She would immediately understand because she knew (Y/n) and had seen her every week when she was at work. She had clearly seen that (Y/n) didn't look pregnant and that she hadn't told anyone or acted like she was and she would see that this wasn't some great scheme. Sue would understand their predicament and approve (Y/n)'s leave and try to help where she could.

Bobby put his paperwork away before he reached out and rubbed (Y/n)'s arm affectionately.

"I'll speak to Sue in the morning, I can get the doctor to fax her a report from tonight and your medical history. That will show you haven't received any antenatal care and Sue will need to approve you for maternity leave, it won't be an issue."

(Y/n) managed to open her eyes that were still watering when she looked across at Bobby. He would do that for them? He would speak to the doctor and Sue and try to sort this so they didn't have to worry? Affection flooded her eyes and she tried to smile his way, despite how her head was fogging over and she just knew once she was given that morphine, she would be out like a light.

She only wished they could have done this pregnancy ordeal in the usual fashion.

Things would have been so much easier if they'd of only known about the baby beforehand. Why did (Y/n)'s body have to be different and conceal this little fact- this little life- from her like a surprise present she wasn't supposed to know about?

Why couldn't she have known before now? Eight months of nothing and then all of a sudden, she was landed with a baby in her arms.

***

"Okay?" Eddie's lips attached to the side of (Y/n)'s head and his hands found her arms, giving a gentle squeeze as he walked up behind her. His chest merged against her back and he smiled softly against her skin when she let herself lean back into him.

"It feels like a dream." Her head tilted back on his shoulder but her eyes wouldn't drift away from the newborn in her arms.

It was too strange to be real.

They were about to walk into their home with a baby. (Y/n) still couldn't believe this weight in her arms was her own little girl; her own version of her and Eddie. This was their baby that they were bringing home.

She wasn't going to be back at work for a few months now. She was going to be home looking after Chris and Bella. No more sleep-filled nights. No more time to themselves when Chris was at school and they were off work. Everything was going to be revolving around the kids now, they were going to be looking after a newborn, not just a nine year old.

A worried smile pulled at her lips when Eddie wormed his arms around her, keeping one arm glued to her waist while the other hand carefully rested over Bella who was snuggled into (Y/n)'s arms.

The further they walked up the path, the more trepidation (Y/n) could feel swirling in her stomach, taking over her body. Were they ready for this? What if (Y/n) couldn't do this? What if she wasn't going to be a good mother to a newborn? Chris was different, she had been in his life since he was almost five years old and for the last four years she had taken on the role as his mum.

She had looked after Chris since he was little more than a toddler. She'd never been around when he was born or had much experience with looking after newborns.

This was all foreign territory to her.

"Eddie, we don't have anything ready for her-"

"I'll sort it, I promise, mi amor. Let's just get inside first." He knew (Y/n) had been through enough, he didn't want her to stand around and panic any longer. He would sort everything, Bobby had already given him two weeks off and Buck had today off. Buck would be more than happy to stay with (Y/n) and Chris so Eddie could head out and get everything they would need for Bella.

She stepped back into Eddie, eyes wide when the front door opened before she could even ask Eddie for his key.

Chris was stood on the other side of the door, a bright smile on his face, so wide that he could barely keep his eyes open. And before he uttered one word, Chris pushed forward and barracaded his arms around (Y/n)'s waist with his face meshed into her stomach just beneath her arms. His hands scrunched up in Eddie's waist and he giggled before he tilted his head back and carefully peeked at the bundle in her arms.

He had briefly seen Bella yesterday, but not for long.

After the whole debacle, Chris barely slept, he and Buck had spent most of the night watching movies in the lounge, both too hyped to go to sleep. Then Buck had taken Chris down to see (Y/n) and his new little sister before they both came back home for the rest of the day. Chris hadn't slept much last night either, too excited that his parents and new sibling would be coming back home in the morning. And Chris had been telling everyone he could that his mum had had a surprise baby, and now, finally, they were all going to be back home.

"You're home!"

"We are, now can you let us in?" Eddie quipped back with a smirk plastered across his face and he reached out to ruffle Chris's wild curls that clearly hadn't seen a brush this morning.

Chris whined quietly but he obliged and shuffled back, still keeping his arms about both parents so it looked like he was dragging them in the house.

"There you are, how are you feeling?"

A smile fluttered over (Y/n)'s lips when her brother came into her sights. He reeled an arm around her waist, pulling her out of Eddie's embrace and into his own. Careful not to nudge or squish the newborn in her arms. He grinned down at Bella, brushing his thumb across her cheek. She had been awake and wriggling around yesterday when Buck held her for the first time and he was so proud, just like he was when Jee had been born.

"Rough," (Y/n) mumbled back, but her smile was enough to tell her brother she wasn't upset or distraught. She was coping as well as she could be right now.

She leaned around Buck when a movement caught her eye and her lips quirked up when she noticed her sister hurrying out the kitchen towards them. (Y/n) hadn't talked to Maddie yet, but she knew Buck had told her what had happened. No one had spoken to their parents yet though, (Y/n) wasn't ready to brave that phone call just yet.

"Hi!" Maddie reached out and wrapped (Y/n) up in a tender hug, keeping an air of space between them to be careful of the newborn who was just beginning to stir.

"Now do you believe me?"

"No, no I don't think so." A bright grin spread across Maddie's face and she cooed down at the little girl before stretching her arms down, silently begging for a cuddle of her first niece. "I still can't get over this."

She had seen her sister no more than five days ago and Maddie didn't have the slightest inkling that she had been pregnant. (Y/n) didn't look, feel or act as if she might have been close to giving birth and Maddie couldn't imagine the trauma this had created. Being in so much pain and not understanding why. Giving birth on her own with her son frightened in the next room and her family on their way to help her.

It was a relief to everyone that (Y/n) and the baby were both okay, so many things could have gone wrong that night.

"We have a surprise." Chris grinned up at Eddie and wrapped his arms around his dad's waist before he looked over at Buck. "Can we show them now?" He had waited all morning for them to come home and now they were here, Chris didn't want to wait any longer to show them what the three of them had been up to all day yesterday.

"Go ahead."

Chris grabbed (Y/n)'s hand and started tugging until she relented and slowly followed him down the hall. She felt Eddie's hands on her waist and his lips against the back of her head as they headed down the hall, being dragged along by Chris. Buck was close behind with Maddie beside him and Bella asleep in her arms.

"What are you doing?" Eddie mumbled softly when he noticed Chris aim for the study rather than his or even their bedroom.

Chris began laughing, swaying his and (Y/n)'s entwined hands back and forth while he slowly opened the door to the study and dragged them inside. A loud 'surprise' flew past his lips and he stood, practically vibrating like a rocket about to launch in the middle of the room.

(Y/n) couldn't breathe. All the air disappeared from her lungs and her free hand moved to grab Eddie's wrist, but she could feel him right behind her. His chest tensed and pushed out into her back and his fingers dug into her hips when he looked around the room.

How had they done this in the space of one day?

"You- Jesus, Buck." His words were affectionate, coming out in a breathless huff as he looked over his shoulder. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, shoulders sagging down.

"Now we couldn't get everything sorted, and we weren't sure what colour scheme you'd want, but Chris picked out the stickers and we thought it was better than messing about re-painting the walls." Buck clapped a hand down on Eddie's shoulder while he looked around the room, shoulders tense and chest tight with apprehension.

He didn't want them to feel like he and Maddie had tried to take over, but they wanted to do something to help.

They knew Eddie and (Y/n) would be struggling now they were home. They would have to sort this room into a nursery, buy everything they needed for Bella. Nappies, bottles, clothes, pram, all of that for a start without thinking of the cot or the wipes and accessories and all the necessities they would need. It was a lot.

It was something they should have had the last eight months to sort out slowly, over time. But with how sudden Bella made her arrival, Buck and Maddie thought they should at least lend a hand.

The study was a pale cream, a dusty vanilla shade that actually looked quite nice once the room was cleared out. There had only been a desk and chair, a computer and a few shelves and ornaments on units.

Now though, the room was reinvented.

(Y/n) bit her lip as she looked around, doing slow circles from left to right, taking in the expanse of the room.

Large Winnie The Pooh wall stickers were dotted around the room, various pictures of Winnie with a red balloon, Tigger, Piglet and Eeyore all dancing around the walls. There was a cot on the right side of the room, the old chest of drawers that used to be unused beneath the window was now opposite the cot. And stacks of clothes ranging from mini socks, pull ups, onesies, mittens, bibs and dresses were all neatly stacked and lined up in front of the cot.

Maddie didn't want to put any of the clothes away in case (Y/n) didn't want them all. She thought it would be best to let her sister go through everything and decide what she wanted and what she didn't like.

The nicnacs had been rearranged, most of them taken out of the room. There were teddies in the cot and a few on the shelves. (Y/n) recognised the selection of teddies from her and Eddie's room, the teddies she and Buck had had since they were little which (Y/n) never brought herself to get rid of. And there were a few toys in the cot that she knew belonged to Chris, which he was graciously donating to his little sister.

"Is this okay? Did we do good?" Buck began to run his hands up and down his thighs when neither Eddie nor (Y/n) said anything. They just looked around in wonder like they had walked into Narnia.

"Mum?" Chris continued to bounce up and down, pushing up on his toes and then sinking back down on his heels as he eagerly awaited a response.

He wasn't quite expecting his mum to deadlock her arms around him and drag him into her arms. Her face buried in his curls and he froze for a second when he realised she was crying. But when he felt her kiss his temple, repeating 'thank you, baby' into his hair, he began to giggle. And he was more than eager when she let him go and Eddie reeled him in for a cuddle.

"You- you didn't have to… thank you."

(Y/n) hated the way she trembled when she reached out and wrapped her arms around her big brother. She pulled Buck close and buried her face in his chest, feeling her tears soaking into his shirt, but he just held her tighter. He bound his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head, smiling broadly as if he had just heard news that he was being commemorated for something.

"Anything for you." He wanted to help. He wanted to make himself useful and do something nice for his sister. He didn't want her and Eddie to struggle or panic and anything he could do to make things easier for them, he would.

Easing Bella into her left arm, Maddie reached out and gave (Y/n)'s shoulder a light squeeze as she stepped close to her two siblings.

"It's mostly Jee's old stuff, if you don't mind second-hand? And everyone at the station had a few baby clothes they were more than happy to give. They said call it belated baby shower gifts."

Maddie had agreed immediately when Buck called and asked if she would help him and Chris sort out a nursery for their sister. She had kept Jee's cot and some of her baby clothes and a few toys and dummies and little nicnacs that had all been boxed up. She didn't find it likely that she and Chimney would be having another baby, at least not anytime soon. So she was more than happy to hand most of the stuff over to her little sister to help them out.

And Hen and Karen had a lot of things they had given to Buck since they fostered all different aged kids and had clothes piled up for emergency placements.

"Thank you, this really means a lot." Eddie kept his right arm looped around Chris's shoulders while he reached over and pulled Buck into a hug.

They had saved him and (Y/n) a lot of panicking and rushing about, it was a hefty weight off of their shoulders. Barely two days old and already their little girl was spoiled.

***

Eddie leaned his head around the living room door and took a peek inside. He rose a brow and slowly padded across towards the sofa, taking in the sight of his family. Maddie was curled up on the armchair with Jee perched on her lap, both of them relaxed and looking like they were about to fall asleep.

Chimney was on the other armchair, playing another game of cards with Buck even though Chris had long since given up playing against them and toddled off to his room.

When his eyes landed on his wife, Eddie's smile softened and his arms folded over his chest. (Y/n) was laid on the sofa next to Buck, her legs over his lap, Bella snuggled down on her chest and a blanket over the pair of them. Both girls were fast asleep.

"Comfy?" Eddie murmured, looking across at Buck who was slouched down on the sofa, keeping his cards close to his chest since he kept demanding Chimney was cheating.

"Yep."

Eddie nodded while he crouched down beside the sofa and looked down at Bella. She was probably due another feed now and he would rather do that than wake (Y/n).

He muttered a soft "Come here baby," and eased Bella into his arms as carefully as he could, trying not to wake (Y/n) rather than the newborn. His lips attached to the top of her head and he gently started to sway from one side to the next. He knew he would have to wake (Y/n) soon when the food arrived, but he wanted to let her sleep a bit longer.

Chimney had finished work, picked up Jee and come straight down to see them all and they all decided to have a family night and eat tea together.

When he heard Chris's bedroom door swing open, Eddie turned and moved towards the hall. His brows furrowed and his lips stayed meshed against his daughter's temple, keeping her bundled up against his chest as he looked over at his son.

"Dad!"

"What's up bud?"

"Nan and pops don't believe me! Tell them about Bella!"

A quiet groan rumbled past Eddie's lips and he tilted his head back, mentally cursing Chris for ringing them already. He knew Chris wouldn't be able to refrain from telling everyone, but Eddie had hoped he wouldn't call his parents just yet.

He had been so focused on trying to get (Y/n) and Bella home and sorting the house that he hadn't called his parents yet. There had been far too much going on and all the team and family popping by. They hadn't even been home a full day yet, Eddie wanted today to be home and try to get settled. He had planned to call his parents first thing in the morning and tell them the surprise news because he knew they would be on a plane down here the moment they knew.

Jugging Bella into the crook of his left arm, Eddie reached out and took the phone from Chris, muttering a soft "Go supervise uncle Buck." and watched as Chris happily hurried off.

He had called his grandparents in his room because he knew Eddie would tell him not to, but he wanted them to know. He wanted to be the one to explain that (Y/n) had had a baby and Chris now had a little sister. He wanted to tell them because Chris knew they would come down and visit for sure now.

"Eddie, sweetheart." His mum smiled so brightly it caused Eddie to smile in response.

He held the phone up to his face and slowly headed into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on.

"Hi ma, you both okay?" He could scarcely see his dad in the corner of the camera, trying his best to lean in and look at his son.

"What's Chris going on about? Is (Y/n) pregnant? Are you going to have a baby?" The anticipation in his mum's voice made Eddie's heart soften and explode at the same time.

He could see the hope swelling up in her eyes and her red lips were curved into such a wide grin that made Eddie feel bad. He wished they had known about Bella beforehand. He wished he could be giving his mum the news in the proper way, telling her and sending her a scan picture and having time to get things ready. His parents weren't going to take this news lightly, the shock would settle in quick, he knew it.

His mum had gathered from Chris that (Y/n) had to be pregnant, but Chris kept rushing through his words because he was so happy. And when he said (Y/n) had had a baby, they thought he was getting mixed up with his words. They had talked to (Y/n) and Eddie only two weeks ago, and they said nothing about being pregnant.

"How far along is she? Chris kept saying you've got a baby girl, he was getting confused, bless him."

"Uh, no papi… um, (Y/n) wasn't well Friday night," He tilted his head back and tried to gather some unknown strength from somewhere. He couldn't help but wince when he looked back down at his parents. "She went into labour and had a baby Friday night."

"I- I'm sorry?"

"Edmundo, why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't know! The doctor called it a cryptic pregnancy, we had no idea she was pregnant. We just got home today, I uh, I guess Chris was too excited to wait to tell you."

He had never seen his mother's jaw hang so loose before. Her wide brown eyes were watering up and she smothered her open mouth with her palm while she leaned to the side into her husband. Whereas his dad was sat with furrowed brows and a curled upper lip. He removed his glasses and ran a hand across his face, trying to process what he was being told.

"Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" A flurry of other words fell past his mother's lips but Eddie couldn't work them all out.

To stop her from rambling on, Eddie slowly tilted the phone down, panning the screen along his plain black shirt before the camera finally settled on the bundle in his arms. Bella was curled up in his arm, both her hands hidden in mittens, arms curled to her chest and her knees pulled up near her tummy. Her eyes were scrunched closed and her button nose was twitched up while her cheek nuzzled into Eddie's shirt.

"Meet Isabella," Softness melted around the edges of his voice and he could hear his mother gasping and a quiet sound rumbled past his father's lips. His dad had never been so quiet and dumb-struck before.

He twisted to lean his hips back against the counter and crossed one leg over the other while he pulled Bella up a bit higher so she was cuddled against his upper chest. Allowing Eddie to see his parents on screen again but also keep Bella within their sights so they could fawn over their granddaughter.

"Chris wasn't joking," This was the first time in a long while that Eddie had seen his father tear up.

"They're both doing great, considering the shock. The doctor said she's perfectly healthy and (Y/n)'s doing great."

"Can- can we come down, visit you all?" There was something hidden in his mother's voice, as if she thought Eddie would tell her no.

His parents hadn't been over to LA since Eddie first moved here. He, Chris and (Y/n) had always made trips down to Texas to see them because it was convenient and easier for them all. But now, with a newborn and a lot of stuff to sort out, his parents coming here was going to be their easiest option.

"We'd love that."

Eddie propped the phone up against the coffee cannister and began prepping a bottle single-handed while Bella stayed in his left arm. He chimed in whenever his parents asked him a question and he smiled brightly when he could hear his mum cooing and trying to get a better look at the newborn. And he could already hear his dad getting his own phone out, saying how he was going to call the girls (Eddie's sisters) and tell them each the good news.

That meant Eddie would be swamped with phone calls tonight from all three of them and no doubt his sisters would be face-timing them. He knew what they were like. They had been round every day to see Chris when he had been born. They would likely send presents down here to LA if they couldn't make a trip to visit them.

When the bottle was made, Eddie tucked it under his arm and grabbed the phone, making his way back into the living room where everyone was crowded together.

"Ma and papi are on the phone, wanna say hi?" He tilted the phone down towards (Y/n) when he stood beside the sofa, noticing that she was still curled up but she was awake now. Presumably she woke up not long after he removed Bella from her arms.

His brows furrowed and his head tilted to one side when he realised (Y/n) was biting her lower lip and he could see tears hiding in her eyes. The way her nose crinkled and how she was pressing her lips together showed she looked like she wanted to cry and that made nerves spark through Eddie's chest.

But (Y/n) took the phone from him and tried to plaster a small yet somewhat exhausted smile on her face. She had always gotten along with Eddie's parents, even if his relationship with them had been strained. They felt more like parents to (Y/n) than her own parents were.

He watched (Y/n) sit up a bit straighter and Chris leaned into her side, wedged between her and Buck.

Eddie slowly moved to sit down on the floor in front of (Y/n) and leaned his back up against the sofa. He pressed the bottle to Bella's lips and started to feed her while his eyes swept around the room.

Everyone looked a little on edge now and it made his heartbeat pick up. His eyes finally settled on Maddie and he rose a brow.

"What's up?"

"I… I told mum and dad the good news."

"…Okay?"

Had they had a bad reaction? Eddie knew the Buckleys well enough to know they weren't supportive at the best of times. He had a feeling that they wouldn't be so happy or endearing about this. Part of him was sure that they wouldn't be as interested because it was (Y/n) who'd had a baby and not Maddie. They had been happy and involved when Maddie had Jee.

Maddie pursed her lips and held her daughter tighter, looking across at her little brother who had his arms crossed over his chest and a grumpy look on his face that he was trying and failing to hide.

She finally sighed and leaned forward, feeling guilty as ever for telling their parents, but (Y/n) asked her to. (Y/n) knew she needed to tell them now rather than letting any more time pass by, but she didn't have the nerve to start up that conversation. And neither did Buck. They all knew their parents were more understanding and easy going when it was Maddie they were talking to.

So she had done as she was asked and tried to calmly explain to their parents that (Y/n) had given birth despite not knowing she was pregnant.

"They're coming down for a visit."

[redocity]

Could you ever do a fic were reader is a firefighter and works in the station but her specialty is being an emt. And whenever buck gets hurt he only lets her patch him up. And basically this is one of this situations and she treats his wounds (at her place idk what could be the reason but it doesn't work if it's a public place) and then he starts to get flirty and offers to "repay her" and it's alude to that him and reader have hooked up before.

FREQUENT FLYER — E.BUCKLEY

when buck gets injured on the job, he always goes back to his favourite paramedic.

evan buckley x gn!reader | 1.7k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — now this is the type of request i can get behind 🙂‍↕️

“Again, Buck? Seriously?”

Buck gave a boyish smile as he leaned against the rescue rig, hand pressed to his side. He shrugged sheepishly, trying to look less injured than he was. It clearly didn’t work. As usual.

“What can I say, I get excited.”

“What did you do this time?” You sigh exasperatedly as you climb into the back of the parked ambulance, something from Chimney about him ‘refusing to leave’ until you checked him over.

Buck looked away almost guiltily, avoiding your gaze. He had a bad habit of running into dangerous situations on calls, and an even worse habit of getting injured because of that fact.

“I, uh, fell out of a window.” He mumbled, wincing as he lifted his hand from where it was pressed against his side.

“You fell out of a window,” You could almost be surprised, but it was Evan Buckley you were talking to here.

“And you didn’t get it check out whilst still on the call why?”

Buck shifted on the ambulance gurney as you began to examine his wound. He could feel the lecture coming and he really didn't want to hear it.

But he also knew he deserved it.

“I was fine!” He protested, then hissed as you prod him. “Ow, ow, ow, okay, maybe I wasn’t completely fine.”

He hums as you sigh. “But like, why should I bother Hen and Chim when I can bother you?”

“Maybe because it’s their job to help injured people?”

Buck shrugged, wincing as the motion made his injury flare. “It’s your job, too. And you’re a lot prettier than they are.”

He smirked, earning an eye roll from you.

“I wasn’t on that call with you, so if we’re being semantic, it’s technically not my job in this instance,”

Buck chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow. “Semantic. I like that word. It’s sexy.”

“You are a strange man Evan Buckley, I’ll give you that. Take your shirt off,”

He smirked as you rolled your eyes again, but obediently lifted his shirt over his head. “Yes ma’am,”

You roll your eyes as you kneel down in front of him to get a proper look at the bruising spreading across his torso, not sparing him a response.

Buck couldn’t help the way his gaze lingered as he watched you drop down in front of him. He wasn’t going to deny it—you looked good in your uniform. And you looked even better on your knees. He made a mental note to get hurt more often, just for this view.

But then you pressed a little too hard against the injured spot, earning a painful grimace.

“Hey, gentle with the goods. They’re expensive.”

“And damaged— what the heck did you do to yourself?” You furrow your eyebrows as you prod gently against the lower half of his ribs. “Did you fall onto a fence or something?”

If you didn’t have genuine reason to be concerned about a rib fracture, you might’ve taken a second to note that he’d definitely been doing more abdominal workouts recently.

Buck grumbled, wincing as you pressed against the injury. His skin was mottled in various shades of purple and blue, an obvious sign of heavy bruising. It didn’t look good. No time to focus on his abs today.

“A table—” Another wince. “Nothing a few drinks and a good night’s sleep can’t fix.” He tried, eyes squeezed shut momentarily as you looked up at him with an unimpressed expression.

“Or maybe I just need some of that good paramedic magic and I’ll be all better.” You’re still looking at him when his eyes open again.

“You fell onto a table,” You deadpan his explanation back to him with a resigned sigh, choosing to ignore his additional comment for the time being.

Buck shifted under your gaze. The way your eyebrow was raised in disbelief made him feel like he was being scolded. It was a look you wore well.

“A garden table, yes.” He tried to explain, wincing again as you pressed against the dark bruise on his side. “A table with weird… metal, spikey-like things sticking out of it. Ow— ow, ow,”

“And I’m guessing the table did not survive,”

"No, the table did not survive," Buck agreed with a wince.

He grumbled as you continued your examination, shifting slightly on the uncomfortable gurney. He was starting to regret making you do this inside the ambulance.

Maybe he should’ve waited and paid you a visit at your apartment instead. At least then he could crash on your bed after.

“Well, good news, you will,” You groan as you push yourself back to your feet, rifling through one of the overhead shelves of the ambulance. “No fractures or breaks, just bruises,”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. He tried to hide it, but he was relieved at your words. He wasn’t keen on going to the hospital.

“So no hospital?” He asked, watching as you pulled out some supplies. “Just some of that fancy paramedic magic and I’ll be good to go?”

“More like an ice pack and 3 weeks station-bound,” You recover one of the ice packs from a portable cooler on the ambulance, holding out to him.

Buck groaned at your answer. “Three weeks off? You’re joking—“

He stopped as you handed him the ice pack, immediately placing it against the bruised skin. It was instant relief. He sighed at the cold sensation, trying to keep the ice pressed again his skin.

“You’re really going to make me take 3 weeks off?”

“I should make you take off five,”

“Five?!” Buck protested loudly, pulling a face at that. “No. No, I’ll take three. Three weeks,” He didn’t sound very happy about it. Or look very happy about it.

He looked a lot like a petulant child, pouting as he held the ice pack against his bruised ribs.

“Three weeks it is,” You remain indifferent, and it only makes his self-pity more prominent.

Buck slumped back against the gurney, grumbling. He hated being told to sit out of work. He was a firefighter, goddamn it. He was meant to be on the front lines.

But as much as he hated it, he knew you were right. He needed to stop getting hurt. And three weeks was actually a pretty good deal.

Didn’t stop him from complaining though.

“I’m gonna be so bored,” He groaned, pressing the ice pack to his skin with a wince. “What am I supposed to do for three weeks?”

“Clean the engines? Mop the floor? Learn to cook?”

Buck groaned again, mumbling. “All of those things sound boring.”

He glanced over at you, a familiar look in his eyes. It was the look he always got when he was about to do something stupid. Or flirt.

“I know something that won’t be boring….” He drawled, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “A thank you for my favourite paramedic perhaps?”

“You’re not doing anything with that rib, Buckley,” You shake your head at him almost amusedly.

Buck had to bite back a snarky comment. He always forgot how stubborn you could be. Which, he knew, was ironic because he was equally, if not more, stubborn himself.

“Can’t even entertain the idea?” He pushed lightly, wincing as he tried to shift to get a better view of you. “Maybe it’ll help speed up the healing process. A little physical therapy, you know? It worked last time,”

“Last time, you had a bruised jaw, not bruised ribs,” You give him another small shake of your head, rolling your eyes.

Buck grumbled. He knew it was futile to argue with you. No matter what he said, you’d win this one.

“Fine,” he finally admitted begrudgingly. “Maybe a bruised jaw and bruised ribs work a little differently, but still,”

He was pouting again. If it wasn’t for his ribs, he’d have crossed his arms over his chest too.

Your acknowledgment is a hum. “You should sleep sitting up if possible for the next few days,”

Buck groaned again. First an ice pack, then three weeks off work, now he had to sleep sitting up? He was really not feeling this no-physical-activity thing.

“Why do I have to sleep sitting up?” He grumbled, shifting awkwardly on the gurney. “Can’t I at least lay down?”

“Try,” You nod towards the gurney he’s sat on. “Go on,”

Buck rolled his eyes at your response, he was too stubborn to immediately admit that you were right.

So, with a lot of grumbling and a small sigh, he carefully lowered himself onto his back.

And almost immediately, he groaned as pain radiated through his side. “Point… made,” he grumbled.

He put his weight on his arm, pushing himself right back up again, shooting daggers at you.

“Mhm,” You roll your eyes, helping him upright. “That’s what I thought,”

Buck grumbled under his breath as you helped him, still annoyed that you were right. He hated the way he could see the slight smile on your lips as you lifted him up, a small hint of triumph in your eyes.

It was a good thing he was into that, otherwise he might just be tempted to wipe it off your face.

“I hate you,” Buck mumbled sulkily. “Stop being right all the time.”

“Can’t I’m afraid, it’s hard-wired into my brain,”

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

They say a meteor is going to crash into Texas. Buck turns away from the TV – not even Taylor can deliver such news without a shocked face – only to be met with a satisfied expression on Gerrard's face.

“God’s punishment,” says the interim captain.

Unfortunately, he doesn't mean himself, because if you ask Buck, Gerrard is definitely a punishment from God. Bobby has to undergo what is supposedly a routine operation, and as if that weren't stressful enough – for Buck –, Gerrard has once again taken over the helm. Is that guy really the only available fire captain in the whole LAFD?

“We're far enough away from Texas, don't wet your pants, Buckley,” he says, patting Buck’s shoulder before he leaves to annoy somebody else. 

It's hard to escape such news, though. It seems to be the talk of the town; most of the people they're helping today seem eager to be putting their pain and problems on hold for a moment. 

“There's always someone who's worse off,” says Hen, ”it helps people to relax.”

“Sure, I'd rather be in a car accident than be squashed by a meteor,” Chimney remarks.

Buck doesn't want to imagine it, which is why his thoughts go into overdrive, and he's still somewhat agitated in the evening.

“Statistically, around 20,000 meteorites fall to Earth every year,” he explains to Tommy while they’re preparing dinner. 

“You mean those that are bigger than 3.5 ounces,” says Tommy casually, peeling the carrots. “Small ones happen almost every day, but you don't notice them. And big ones are rare anyway.”

Buck, who shouldn't be surprised by anything Tommy does, almost cuts his finger and puts his knife down.

“How do you know?”

“You think I haven't seen the news?”

Popping a slice of carrot into his mouth, Tommy grins. “A meteoroid is a piece of rock that is usually knocked out of an asteroid by a collision. When the meteoroid enters the atmosphere, it sometimes causes a luminous phenomenon, a meteor. And only when it touches ground it’s a meteorite.” 

“Y-you looked that up because you knew I was watching the news.” A somewhat embarrassed expression crosses Tommy’s face, scrunching his nose in that adorable way. 

“Too much?” he asks.

“What? No! You knew I'd spiral over the news, and…”

“Just because you have a very compassionate heart,” says Tommy with a wink, taking his hand. 

“Right,” Buck huffs in amusement. 

“Of course,” Tommy replies, while his hand squeezes Buck's, ”it's certainly not because you're worried about Bobby, or because Gerrard is constantly breathing down your neck, or because everyone has probably told you that a meteor will definitely not hit L.A.”

Maybe the man is a clairvoyant. Or maybe he just knows him too well by now, which is a much more heartwarming explanation. Because in fact, it wasn't just Chimney who – with the best of intentions – told him that an earthquake is statistically more likely than a meteor strike. 

“You're right,” says Buck, wrapping his arms around Tommy, ”but do you know what actually fueled my anxiety? One more natural disaster, what does it matter?”

Tommy raises a brow, but he doesn’t object. Because that’s another thing he knows by now: when it’s necessary to speak up (oh, they’ve worked on this, together), and also when it’s better to remain silent. 

“I was thinking about where I would want to be when something like that happens. I was thinking of all the people who’d not be able to make it to their loved ones in time, who would have to say goodbye over the phone. I couldn't help but think of those who would lose everything, not just their own lives.”

“That's dark,” Tommy breathes into Buck’s hair. 

“Maybe. But it was also somehow reassuring, because I knew where I wanted to be.”

“Right here,” Tommy says, holding him close. 

“Right here. And do you want to know something else?”

“Hmmm?” 

“The fact that you learned all this facts for me is extremely sexy.”

Tommy looks at him, “Oh?”

“Yes, oh,” Buck replies, laughing. “Disasters can wait, kiss me.”

[leashybebes]

#33 for the kiss meme cause I support procrastination 👏 (dealers choice on pairing)

thank you! #33 was forceful, and i went for saltommy. hope that's okay! disclaimer: it's been a minute since i've watched any of the begins episodes so let's just pretend this makes sense with the timeline we saw on the show (if it's good enough for tim etc., etc.)

Tommy gets through the rest of his shift with a ringing in his ears and a feeling like he's clinging on by his fingertips. He can feel Hen and Chimney looking at him carefully between calls, and even Nash looks like he's going to say something a couple of times. Tommy bites his tongue and does his job and at the end of the shift, he does a round of the firehouse and picks up all the stuff Sal left behind in his urgent need to walk away.

Hen finds him in the locker room, half zoned out, looking down at Sal's Yankees sweatshirt in his hands. He found it in the gym. It's the one with the sleeves cut off, the one Sal would pair with obnoxious board shorts at pick-up games, the one it'd taken Tommy years to build up an immunity to. And for what? For what? Because Tommy knows how this goes. People leave, everyone makes the appropriate noises about staying in touch, and then…and then…

"You okay, Tommy?"

"Yeah," he says, on reflex. "No. I don't know."

"Yeah," Hen agrees. "That was rough."

"He's such an idiot," Tommy says, tightening his fists in the worn material of the hoodie. 

Hen touches his shoulder. "Maybe you should cool off a little before you go in all guns blazing, huh?"

"Yeah," Tommy says, his jaw so tight he feels like it might shatter. "Probably."

The drive to Sal's place doesn't cool him off at all. If anything it makes him worse. He spends most of the forty five minutes sitting in traffic with his hands at ten and two, mentally rehearsing what he's going to say. You selfish prick. What the hell were you thinking? It's not too late, let's go to Nash together. You're the only thing that got me through the last six years, what am I supposed to do now? I love you. I don't know how to survive losing you. You fucking asshole.

And then he's there, his car's engine ticking into silence, his hands cramping as he uncurls his fingers from the steering wheel one at a time. He still has no idea what to say, but he grabs the duffel bag of Sal's things from the passenger seat and marches to the door. He listens to the sound of his pulse slamming inside his chest for the thirty seconds it takes Sal to open the door. He has the nerve, the sheer fucking gall, to smile at Tommy.

"Oh, hey man. Come on in."

What the fuck.

Tommy doesn't give Sal time to step aside, shoulders past him instead, shoves the bag of his crap into his arms hard enough to make him stumble.

"What the hell, Sal?"

"What - wait, are you mad at me?"

"Yes!" Tommy explodes, flinging his hands into the air. "Obviously!"

"Well why the fuck are you mad at me?" Sal demands, dropping the bag at his feet and folding his arms across his chest. "Be mad at the fucking hick."

"You left," Tommy bursts out.

"He fucking - "

"All you had to do was say sorry - "

"For doing my job? Tommy!"

"- and you could have stayed with me."

That shuts them both up more effectively than Tommy would have expected and he stands for a moment, his chest heaving, his hands shaking at his sides. Sal looks at him, tilts his head, frowns in the way that has always meant he's forensically taking someone apart, seeing through any defences to their soft underbelly. Tommy has always dreaded having that look turned on him, and this is no different.

And then Sal takes two steps, gets a hand on his collar, yanks him in, kisses him so hard it hurts. In truth it's hurt a little bit every time Tommy's kissed a guy, pressing on the bruise made of shame and fear and guilt that lives in the heart of him. This is different. This hurts because Sal clashes their teeth together, because he bites at Tommy's lower lip with sharp, mean teeth, because his hand goes from Tommy's collar to his hair and tugs. It doesn't hurt in his heart.

Tommy wheels away as far as Sal's grip on his shirt will let him, panting, panic welling up like he was the one who started it, like he slipped after years of promising himself he wouldn't. His hand is shaking as he touches it to his lips. His mouth feels like it's on fire.

"How - how did you know - "

"You're not as subtle as you think you are, babe."

"You fucking asshole," Tommy laughs.

"That's nice," Sal says. "That's real nice. Come here, you dumbass. I'm not leaving you."

He kisses Tommy again, and this time it doesn't hurt anywhere.

[ficretus]

*In Vacuo common room, one winter night*

Jaune: Sigh... I can't sleep.

*loud noise in the chimney*

Jaune: What the...

*bunch of packets drop into the room*

Jaune: You gotta be kidding me...

*person drops into the room*

Jaune: Are you... Santa?

Cinder: *coughing* you wish... idiot.

Jaune: Cinder! *reaches for a sword, realizes he is in pajamas* What are you planning to do?

Cinder: *coughing* Plan? Fat bearded maniac threw me in the chimney and you think this is some kind of plan?

Jaune: Santa threw you in the chimney? You can't be serious.

Cinder: I wouldn't joke about something like that. See. *shows letter attached to her nightie* It says here, for June.

Jaune: It's Jaune. *snatches letter away from her* Why would Santa send me you?

Cinder: I suppose he knows you want to defeat me and thought bringing me here in a nightie was your best bet. But don't delude yourself, I don't need a blade to beat you Arc.

Jaune: *reads the letter* Dear Jaune, you are without a doubt one of the worst people on this Gods forsaken planet. Every breath you take is stolen from someone more worthy. Your life serves zero purpose, you should have stayed back there. I would have brought you the world's biggest piece of coal but you don't even deserve that. Here is bag of Cinder for you, he he. Hate from... Santa.

Cinder: I stand corrected. Old man has wicked sense of humor.

Jaune: What is this?! *continues reading* None of this makes any sense. He is accusing me of murder in cold blood, theft, ship sinking... whatever that is.

Cinder: Fufufu. But it's true. Didn't you steal an Atlesian airship to reach it?

Jaune: I did, but it was group effort *reads Ruby's letter* See! See! He is praising Ruby the entire letter! He is picking on me!

Cinder: Oh dear, how tragic. *rummages through kitchen* Anything to drink here?

Jaune: Santa hates me! I am number 2 on the naughty list! He thinks I am worse than pretty much anyone on this planet.

Cinder: I am number 1 by the way. *takes a sip of cocoa* Hmm, this won't do. *adds a cup of rum*

Jaune: Santa thinks I'm worse than Salem and Tyrian? Just great... *sits on a couch*

Cinder: Want some?

Jaune: At this point that's just rum with cocoa flavor.

Cinder: Santa exists, he hates you and brought me to you as a punishment.

Jaune: Give me that. *takes a swig* How do you deal with all that hate?

Cinder: I just continue going forward, that's the only thing you can do. Spite them with your continuous existence.

Jaune: That sounds tiring.

Cinder: Hating is more tiring than just existing.

Jaune: I suppose that's true... Cheers.

Cinder: Cheers.

[syerra-637]

The final decision is yours.

(Yandere!king x fem reader)

A/n ¹: Probably the longest fic I've posted so far and I plan on surpassing myself. Consider this my gift to start 2025 off right ;) Trigger warnings: yandere themes, anst, physical violence, murder, psychological manipulation, abuse of power, confinement, verbal abuse, abusive relationships, humiliation, sexual tension, death themes Summary: Life was like a long and quiet river, until that fateful day. How could you have known that this chain of decisions would lead to such a tragedy? Word count: 5.9k

The hunting season was open, a period you dreaded every year. The peaceful woods surrounding your modest cottage transformed into a noisy playground for arrogant nobles. They paraded on horseback, their laughter echoing through the forest, taking cruel pleasure in hunting and killing poor animals. Fortunately, your refuge was nestled in a secluded corner, far from the beaten path. It was rare for anyone to venture here, and you relied on this isolation to preserve your peace.

That evening, however, a storm was brewing. The rain poured in torrents, hammering the roof of your cottage, while lightning streaked across the dark sky. The wind, cold and violent for the season, swept through the trees, making the branches crack. Sitting at your wooden table, a steaming bowl of soup and a piece of bread in front of you, you let your thoughts wander. The fire crackled in the hearth, spreading a comforting warmth, but a dull anxiety weighed on you.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps in the mud pulled you from your reverie. You froze, straining to listen. It wasn’t a mere animal. These footsteps were heavy, assured… human. Your heart raced as someone knocked violently on your door.

You remained still, holding your breath. Maybe they would leave eventually, you thought. Maybe they would believe the house was abandoned. But this illusion was quickly shattered when a deep, authoritative voice rose from the other side of the door:

— "We know someone is here. Open the door immediately!"

You shivered. They had probably spotted the smoke rising from the chimney. You hesitated, staring at the door as if it might give way to the force of their voice.

— "Open up, or we’ll break down the door!"

The tone was unmistakable. These men were not here to ask politely. A cold fear gripped you. Who were they? Lost hunters? Or worse? You knew your refuge would not protect you for long against their determination.

Your heart pounded as you slowly approached the door. You unlocked it carefully, but left the chain in place, making sure it opened just a crack. In the doorway, you scrutinized the figures standing in the pouring rain.

There were four of them. The first, a small young boy, seemed to be a squire. He wore simple clothes, drenched by the downpour, and his face showed more nervousness than determination. The next two, clearly nobles, were more imposing. One of them, the one who had spoken earlier with an imperious voice, seemed agitated, his features tight with suppressed anger.

But it was the last man who caught all your attention. He stood slightly apart, yet he dominated the scene with his mere presence. His youth and beauty were striking; his elegant but powerful build inspired a strange combination of respect and fear. His luxurious clothes, adorned with embroidery and shimmering jewels despite the dim light, indicated he was not an ordinary noble. A member of the high nobility. There was no doubt about it. Perhaps even royalty.

You swallowed hard before asking a question in a calm but wary voice:

— What do you want?

You didn’t miss their reaction. The moment your voice broke the silence, their faces showed palpable surprise. They exchanged looks, as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. You guessed why: they had probably assumed a man lived here, isolated from the rest of the world.

The man who had spoken earlier answered, his voice slightly softened but still authoritative:

— Shelter and food for the night.

He took a step forward, clearly trying to make you more visible in the darkness. You could analyze them in detail thanks to the firelight behind you, but to them, you were just a silhouette in the backlight.

You hesitated, but finally declared firmly:

— I am a woman, and there is no man in this house. It would not be proper to let you in.

A silence fell, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. Then, the man who seemed to be the leader of the group exclaimed, clearly perplexed:

— What? You don’t live with any man?

You took a deep breath and lied without flinching:

— Yes, I am married. But my husband is not here at the moment.

The nobleman frowned, and you saw him exchange a quick glance with the royal figure, who had remained silent until now. The latter gave a slight smile, but it wasn’t warm. It was an enigmatic, almost predatory smile, and it chilled you to the bone.

— Then we have nothing to fear, he finally said in a low, velvety voice. We will stay only one night.

You hesitated for a long moment. Their presence was oppressive, and every fiber of your being screamed at you not to let them in. But the wind howled outside, and the storm rumbled so fiercely that even you, warm inside, shivered. If you left them outside, they might break down the door, and you weren’t sure you could resist them.

Finally, with cautious resignation, you closed the door just enough to remove the chain, then opened it reluctantly. The men entered one by one, bringing with them the smell of rain, wet leather, and earth.

The small squire apologized timidly as he dropped a soaked bag near the door. The two nobles remained standing, casting curious glances around the modest room. But it was the king who drew all your attention, despite yourself. He didn’t move much, simply staring at the flames with an almost unsettling intensity.

— You have a charming house, he finally murmured, his low, controlled voice resonating strangely in the confined space.

You didn’t respond, merely nodding as you closed the door behind them. Your instincts screamed at you not to turn your back, but you had to go fetch blankets for your guests.

— If you would follow me, you said in a voice that tried to sound assured. I only have one room for sleeping, but it will suffice.

You pointed to a small adjacent room, usually used for storing wood and provisions, but which could offer them temporary shelter. The squire and the two nobles settled there without much ceremony, removing their soaked coats.

The king, however, remained in the main room. He had moved toward the fireplace and was observing the flames with an almost disturbing intensity.

— Aren’t you joining your men? you asked, trying to mask your discomfort.

He turned his head slightly toward you, a cryptic smile curling his lips.

— No. I prefer the company here.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. It wasn’t so much his words as the way he said them. Slowly, he sat down in the chair you had occupied earlier, his eyes never truly leaving you.

— You are brave, he continued. Living alone, so far from everything. Few women would have the strength for it.

You lowered your gaze, trying not to respond to what you perceived as a provocation.

— I manage, you replied simply, grabbing a clean bowl. Would you like some soup?

— With pleasure.

You hurried to fill a bowl, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze. You could feel his eyes on you, like a physical presence. When he took the bowl from your hands, his fingers briefly brushed yours. That contact felt like an electric shock.

— Thank you, he said softly, his smile still present.

The evening continued in a heavy silence. The other men seemed tired and did not leave their room, but the king stayed with you, occasionally asking innocuous questions: how long had you lived here? Why so far from civilization? Had you never been afraid?

Each of your answers seemed to fascinate him more. His dark, piercing eyes rarely left your face. At times, you felt like he was studying you, as if he were trying to uncover all your secrets.

You tried not to give him too much attention, but he had a magnetic aura that made it impossible. The later the night went, the more vulnerable you felt under his gaze, like a prey aware that it was being hunted.

— You are quite charming, he finally murmured, almost to himself. A woman like you shouldn’t be living alone in a place like this.

You didn’t respond, but your silence didn’t seem to bother him. He merely continued to watch you, his smile becoming more enigmatic, almost possessive.

It wasn’t until he finally stood up to join the others that you could breathe again. But even then, you knew this night would be long. You could still feel his gaze on you, even in his absence, like a heavy shadow that would not leave you.

The night was long and difficult. Sleep didn’t come easily, and every little noise made you jump. The creaking of the wood under the wind, the rustling of the trees in the rain… everything seemed amplified in the oppressive silence of your house. Several times, you woke up with a start, the fear of what these men might do keeping you awake.

Finally, unable to find peace, you got up and sat by the window. The sky was still cloudy, but a few stars pierced through the gaps. You stared at their distant glow, hoping their light would bring you some comfort.

Suddenly, a movement behind you made you shiver.

— You’re not sleeping, my dear?

The royal's low, smooth voice broke the silence. You slowly turned around, finding him standing in the doorway, dressed in a simple doublet that accentuated his imposing build. He was looking at you, a curious smile on his lips.

— I could say the same to you, you replied, weary and tired.

He let out a small laugh, clearly delighted by your retort.

— Touche, he said, stepping closer to look out the window. Oh, look! You can see the constellation of Cassiopeia. You know, in legends, she represents a queen. Beautiful, but proud.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

— Mhm, you replied simply, turning your gaze back to the stars.

In truth, you didn’t know much about constellations, and you had no desire for him to start talking about myths or fairy tales, especially at this hour. And if you were to be honest, you had never been very interested in such discussions, even less with him.

A silence settled, heavy and strange. For you, it was almost an enjoyable moment; you could finally savor a little tranquility, even in his presence. But it seemed that this silence bothered him.

— I hope your husband will be back soon, he suddenly said. It’s not good for a delicate creature like you to be alone here too long. Who knows who… or what you might come across.

You felt a wave of contempt rise within you. The word "husband" had been spoken in a strange way, both venomous and sarcastic, as if the idea disgusted him while not convincing him. He was staring at you with a piercing look, probably trying to detect a flaw in your lie.

Inside, you couldn’t help but mock him.

My poor, if only you knew how long “the delicate creature” I am has been living alone here…

But you showed nothing on your face.

— He’ll probably be back tomorrow, you replied in a neutral tone, hoping to end the conversation.

He looked at you for a moment longer, then a strange smile stretched across his lips. He hummed a tune you didn’t recognize before turning away, heading back to the room where his companions were sleeping.

You stayed still for a moment, your fists clenched, before returning to your room. This time, you made sure to lock the door. Yet, even behind that barrier, you couldn’t escape the oppressive feeling: his gaze, his smile… something about him made you deeply uncomfortable.

You slipped under the covers, praying that this night would finally end. But you knew that this was only the beginning of a much greater unease.

The next morning, you got up quickly, driven by the hope that by hastening the preparations, you could shorten their stay in your house. You prepared a simple breakfast: rye bread, some dry sausage, and a bowl of porridge. Sitting at the table, you savored the relative silence, a rare moment of tranquility since their arrival.

This moment was interrupted by the squire who entered discreetly. Unlike the others, he seemed less intrusive. He gave you a small, hesitant smile, as if waiting for your permission to sit. You gestured to a chair, and he sat down.

— I’ll wash your clothes after breakfast, you said calmly. You’ll probably be able to leave before lunchtime this way.

The squire looked at you with a mix of gratitude and awkwardness.

— Thank you, he replied sincerely. And I’m sorry that we imposed ourselves like this on you. Understand, your house is the only one in the area. But…

He hesitated, as if weighing his words.

— But the time of departure is not up to me, he added. It depends on the king’s will.

You stopped dead, staring at him in disbelief. The king? That insufferable, arrogant, and intrusive man, was he the king? Until now, you had thought he was just a high-ranking noble, but the king? A shiver ran through you, a mix of astonishment and apprehension.

As if to confirm your fears, the king entered at that moment, followed by his two companions. They sat at the table with an assurance that made it seem like they were at home. The king, with almost calculated precision, sat right next to you. He gave you a warm, almost charming smile, wishing you a good day in a soft, affable voice.

You furrowed your brow, confused by his behavior. Quickly clearing your dishes, you turned to him to regain some semblance of control.

— As I told your squire, I will wash your clothes after breakfast. That way, you’ll probably be able to leave before lunchtime.

The king stared at you for a moment, his gaze taking on an unreadable quality. There was something unsettling in his eyes: an intensity that seemed to probe your soul, as if he were trying to detect your every thought. Then, an almost imperceptible smile flickered on his lips.

— How kind of you, my dear, he said softly. However…

He paused, his tone turning more serious, almost solemn.

— It turns out that I wish to meet your husband. We will therefore wait for his return.

His gaze remained fixed on you, a glimmer of amusement mixed with a certain threat. He knew. He knew that you had lied, and he seemed to take a malicious pleasure in playing with you.

The atmosphere in the room immediately changed. The two nobles exchanged a glance, one of them sporting a smirk, clearly entertained by the situation. The other, more serious, seemed puzzled by the king’s insistence. As for the squire, he lowered his eyes, uncomfortable, nervously fiddling with the edge of his tunic.

You felt trapped. Your heart was racing, but you forced yourself to keep a neutral expression.

— My husband probably won’t return until late this evening, you said in a tone you hoped sounded firm.

The king didn’t respond immediately. He simply stared at you, his smile widening slightly.

— Then we have all the time in the world, he murmured finally, his voice soft, but heavy with innuendo.

This simple exchange left an overwhelming weight in the air. You now knew that his departure no longer depended on just washing clothes. And more than ever, you felt that this man was dangerous.

The day unfolded slowly, each moment stretching out like an eternity. The stares of the four men weighed heavily on you, their invasive presence seeping into every corner of your home. Even as you tried to focus on your daily tasks, every movement felt monitored, every breath scrutinized.

The squire was the most discreet, occasionally casting you a hesitant glance, as if unsure of his place but too polite to leave. The two nobles, however, seemed to revel in the situation. One of them kept glaring at you with a judgmental gaze, while the other, calmer but no less observant, appeared lost in thought, missing nothing of what transpired around him.

As for the king… He kept watching you, like a predator stalking its prey. You felt his eyes on you constantly—heavy, curious, scrutinizing. Every task you undertook seemed to serve as an opportunity for him to evaluate you. He would sometimes approach, ensuring you weren’t too busy, offering remarks that seemed casual but were, in truth, precise observations of your every move.

When you tended to the fire, he leaned in close and murmured softly: — You’re so attentive to everything; it’s admirable. You never miss a spark. The comment sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried not to let it show. You knew he was testing you, probing your resolve.

After cleaning and tidying up, you headed to the garden to tend to a few plants, hoping for a moment of respite. But even there, you weren’t alone. The king positioned himself by a window, watching you through the curtains. One of the nobles also kept his gaze fixed on you, as if every gesture needed to be observed, measured, and noted.

Finally, lunchtime arrived, though the thought of spending more time with them was far from appealing. You forced a smile, serving the food with a courtesy that grew more taxing by the moment. The king, ever charming, addressed you with kind words, but his eyes betrayed his relentless search for something more—a crack in your composure, a moment of vulnerability.

By the afternoon, you realized you couldn’t endure the tension any longer. Taking a deep breath, your heart pounding, you calmly announced: — I’m going into town. It’s been a while, and I think it would do me good.

Silence fell over the room, and all eyes turned to you. The king was the first to react, a faintly amused smile playing on his lips. — Into town? he said softly, with layers of meaning. Why not wait until your husband returns? It would be safer, wouldn’t it?

You didn’t need to think twice to recognize the trap. He was trying to cage you again, to make you feel his control over every aspect of your life. But you weren’t about to give in. — There’s nothing dangerous in town, you replied, striving for confidence. And I’ll return well before nightfall.

The nobles exchanged glances. One seemed on the verge of protesting but held back, as if a decision had been made beyond his control. The older one shrugged, appearing indifferent.

The king said nothing at first, his gaze piercing, sending a strange heat through your chest, followed by a chilling unease. Then, slowly rising from his chair, he moved toward you with measured steps, every motion deliberate, like a ruler fully aware of his authority. — Very well, he said calmly. Go ahead, but… don’t stray too far. I’d hate for anything to happen to you on the way. You know, it’s never entirely safe to be alone, especially in such an isolated place.

He turned away without another word, but his seemingly gentle tone carried an unmistakable threat. He didn’t need to say more for you to understand: he would be watching. No matter where you went, his shadow loomed over you like an invisible chain.

The other three men regarded you with varying expressions—indifference, amusement—but the king’s silent vigilance was ever-present. You had no choice but to leave, though deep down, you knew that any semblance of freedom you might feel was nothing more than a fragile illusion.

When you prepared to step out the door, the king rose again, his cold, determined smile returning. — I’ll accompany you, he said quietly but firmly. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d prefer to keep you under my watch.

He followed you without another word, and you had no choice but to accept it. The town, usually quiet, felt livelier today. People hurried to finish their errands before nightfall, and the clatter of hooves echoed on the cobblestones.

You headed first to the butcher, hoping the quick errand would go unnoticed. The king kept his distance, observing everything—the streets, the people, and most of all, you—with eyes as sharp as blades. His presence made you nervous, forcing you to move with heightened awareness of his scrutiny. — Some meat for tonight, please, you said in a calm voice, though your hands trembled slightly.

The butcher served you without question, though his gaze lingered on the king, then back to you. The tension was palpable, and no one could ignore it.

After paying, you continued on your way, maintaining a composed facade. The king remained silent, but his unrelenting eyes bore into you, as if waiting for the slightest misstep.

You stopped next at the tailor’s, hoping the visit might offer a brief reprieve from the king’s oppressive attention. The tailor, a middle-aged man, greeted you warmly. — Just a small repair for the skirt, if you don’t mind, you said, handing it over. Nothing too complicated.

The king leaned against the wall, watching every movement. You knew he disliked being here, but his desire to control you outweighed his discomfort. The tailor’s scissors seemed louder than usual, each snip amplifying the oppressive silence.

When the tailor handed back your mended skirt, you seized the moment. Taking a deep breath, you turned to the king and said calmly: — I’m going to visit a friend now. She works at a brothel nearby, and I need to deliver something to her.

The king studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. He hesitated, as though weighing his options. Then, with a faint smile, he replied: — Very well, I’ll wait here. But don’t take too long, all right? I wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a compromising situation.

Leaving him behind in the bustling street, you headed toward a quieter, shadowed part of town, where the alleys narrowed and the air grew heavier. Here, you hoped to find Jean—the one person who might help you escape the king’s grip, if only for a night.

Jean, a man with a rough demeanor, was well-known in these parts as a pimp but also as someone who didn’t hesitate to use violence to get what he wanted. You found him repulsive, but he was your only option.

Arriving at a discreet door, you knocked twice and waited. A few moments later, the door creaked open, and there stood Jean, a cynical smile on his lips.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he said, looking you up and down. “You must want something, don’t you?”

You took a deep breath and held out five silver coins, which he snatched with interest.

“I have a deal for you, Jean. I want you to pretend to be my husband tonight. The king, that… insufferable man, is here with his nobles, and I can’t take it anymore. I need to escape, even if it’s just for one evening. In exchange for five silver coins, you’ll be my husband and shield me from his intrusive gaze.”

Jean laughed, a harsh and joyless sound.

“Five silver coins? For one evening of a fake marriage? You care more about freedom than money, I see. But you know what? I’ll do it. For tonight, you’ll be Jean’s wife, and the king won’t be able to do a thing about it. But don’t expect it to come cheap.”

He gave you a piercing look, one that felt far too calculated. You knew you had to tread carefully, but for now, this was your only option.

“Fine,” you replied, your gaze hardening. “But after tonight, you stay away from me, Jean. This is a deal, not a commitment.”

He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said with a mocking grin.

Jean arrived at the cottage in the late afternoon, and you couldn’t help but feel a shiver of apprehension. Every step he took toward your door seemed heavy with consequence. When he entered, a mix of emotions overwhelmed you: a certain relief, of course, but also a growing unease. This dinner was no longer just a meal; it was a trial that could disrupt far more than your evening.

You greeted him with a reserved smile, trying to keep your composure. He settled at the table, his gaze scanning every corner of the cottage as if uncovering its secrets. The atmosphere was tense, and you sensed that nothing about what was to come would be trivial.

The others arrived shortly after—three nobles, followed by the king. They took their seats, but the air remained heavy. The king sat beside you, and you immediately felt his scrutinizing gaze on you, as though he were evaluating your every move. Then Jean turned toward him, his piercing stare as sharp as a blade.

The initial exchanges were polite, but the underlying tension was palpable. Jean, for his part, seemed intent on testing the king, pushing him to his limits, his remarks laden with innuendo.

“You have such a serene air about you, Your Majesty,” Jean began in an almost friendly tone, though his eyes gleamed with something sharper. “There’s a strange calm that emanates from you. A calm… that perhaps hides a certain vulnerability.”

The king shot you a quick glance before responding, his tone icy: “And why would you think that?”

Jean shrugged, as though he didn’t care about the answer. “Well, after spending time around powerful men, you learn to see the cracks in their facades. One might believe your power is unshakable, but I’m certain there are flaws. And when you find them, that’s when the real game begins.”

The king straightened slightly, his gaze hardening, though he maintained his composure. “You seem to underestimate what it means to be a king, Jean. You don’t understand what it entails—the sacrifices, the responsibilities. You can’t simply talk about power as if you know what it is.”

Jean smirked, a nearly provocative expression. “Oh, but I understand far more than you think. You speak of sacrifices, responsibilities, but at its core, everything is ruled by money. You, your nobles, your lands—it’s all an illusion. You think you’re at the top, but you’re just puppets in a much larger game.”

The nobles around the table exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared to intervene. The tension escalated, and you could feel the air growing heavier. Jean wasn’t there to flatter; he was there to provoke, to push the king to his breaking point.

“You wear a fine crown, but it’s just an ornament. When you take it off, you’re like everyone else, aren’t you? Just a man among men, no matter how much you like to think otherwise.”

The king, visibly irritated, clenched his fists under the table. “You’re a strange man, Jean,” he murmured in a threatening tone. “You know nothing of what it means to be at the top. All you understand is money. You’re a man of the gutter.”

Jean burst into laughter, though there was an ominous edge to it. He stood abruptly, stepping closer to the king, his eyes blazing with restrained fury. “Maybe I am a man of the gutter, but tonight, you’re going to see what it feels like to lose control.”

Without warning, Jean drew his sword, the motion swift as lightning. The king, with a fluid movement, unsheathed his own and managed to parry the first strike. The violent clash of metal echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine. The other guests remained frozen, shocked by the sudden attack.

Jean, consumed by rage, launched into a series of brutal strikes, but the king was faster. Each of Jean’s blows was met with precise counters. The king appeared calm, but you could feel the intensity of the duel, every movement of his arms calculated and deliberate.

Finally, with a sudden burst of motion, the king disarmed Jean. Delivering a decisive strike, he sent Jean crashing to the ground. The ensuing silence was heavy, almost suffocating. Jean, groaning in pain, lay motionless.

The king, breathless but composed, stood tall and regarded Jean’s body with an icy gaze. Slowly, he turned to the other nobles. “Well. That’s settled.”

The nobles, paralyzed, said nothing. But you remained seated, frozen in place. A mix of relief and dread coursed through you. The king had killed a man during dinner, but the situation was far from resolved. On the contrary, you knew everything was about to change.

The guests eventually left, the king casting a final glance at Jean’s lifeless body before turning to you with a chilling smile. Then, he walked out the door.

You stayed behind, your eyes fixed on Jean’s motionless form, a storm of emotions swirling within you. The smell of blood and death filled the room, heavy and unbearable. The walls seemed to close in around you, and before you could fully grasp the gravity of the situation, everything went black. Darkness engulfed you as you fainted.

When you opened your eyes again, daylight filtered through the window. You sat up abruptly, dizziness overwhelming you. The nauseating smell of Jean's corpse immediately reached your nose, making you gag. The weight of what had just happened crushed you, and you felt overwhelmed by panic. What now? How could you erase what had just occurred? Jean's body was there, in the room, and you couldn't simply leave it there.

Instinctively, you got up and hurried outside, running to the back of the small house where no one would disturb you. You began digging a hole in the garden, more or less deep, but every movement felt heavy, almost mechanical. Your mind was foggy, your hands trembling. Jean's body, too heavy to handle alone, seemed almost unreal. Dried blood stained your hands and clothes as you dragged the body out of the house, each movement sending a shiver of disgust through you. The body fell into the hole you had dug without much thought. The earth slowly covered him, but your mind kept spiraling.

Was what you just did really smart? People would surely notice Jean’s disappearance. And if someone came, if someone found his body in your garden... It would be you they accused. You they judged. A cold shiver ran through you. What now? You had to flee. Find a solution before it was too late.

Panicked, you ran inside the house, hastily gathering anything you thought might be necessary. Some silver coins, a few clothes, and other small items you could carry. Each action felt more rushed than the last. But as you were gathering everything, you heard a noise. A sharp knock at the door.

You froze. It wasn’t the wind. It was another knock, more insistent this time. You approached the door cautiously, your heart pounding in your chest. Then a commanding voice rose from the other side, cutting through your thoughts.

— Open the door immediately! You are accused of high treason against the crown. We are here to escort you to your trial.

Your blood ran cold. The voice was firm, authoritative, leaving no room for negotiation. The royal guards were there, and everything was about to fall apart. You stood still, your mind racing. You had no plan, nothing. You had to face what was coming, but how? What to say? What to do?

The sound of footsteps approached, and the door began to tremble under repeated blows. Everything was collapsing around you.

The door burst open suddenly, and everything seemed to blur around you. The daylight was too bright, almost unbearable, and your eyes instinctively squinted. Before you could react, you were seized by the arm with such force that you had no time to defend yourself. The sensation was terrifying, as if an invisible rope tied you to a horse, dragging you behind it mercilessly. The pain, the anguish, everything mixed within you in a chaotic whirlwind.

Your mind wavered between reality and memory, a flood of blurry, confused recollections. The cell, the dampness of the cold walls, the heavy silence of the prison… Then the judge, the man who condemned you, and his cutting voice announcing your sentence: "Death by hanging." The sound of his words still echoed in your ears, and you felt lost, crushed by inevitability.

Now, you were there again, in that cell. A heavy silence weighed on you. The last day, the day of the condemned. You had prepared yourself for this moment, for this inevitable end. But nothing could prepare you for what happened next.

The door to your cell opened once again. You expected to see a guard, another court official, but that wasn’t the case. A malicious smile stretched across your face as you recognized the one who had entered. The king himself. He wasn’t there to carry out a sentence, no. He stepped toward you with that manic smile, the smile he always wore when he felt in control, when he knew everything was under his power. That smile, at that moment, froze your blood.

— So, here you are at last. It’s amusing to see how the wheel of fate turns, isn’t it? he murmured, his voice smooth, almost disdainful.

He stood there before you, and the air he exuded was suffocating. He seemed to take cruel pleasure in observing your distress. He advanced slowly, his gaze fixed on you, as if savoring every moment of this encounter, every second he knew you couldn’t escape.

You were there, facing him, in that cell. There was no escape. No false hope. Just him, the king, delighting in your predicament, and that predatory smile he wouldn’t stop wearing.

The king approached closer, reducing the distance between you to a mere breath. His eyes glimmered with a strange light, a mix of cruelty and desire. Then, with a chilling smile, he murmured:

— In my great mercy, I offer you a way out, a chance to live. But on one condition: you must agree to stay with me for eternity.

Your breath caught. The words echoed in the cell like a distorted, unreal sound. Your heart raced, and yet a strange sense of irony crossed your mind. You dared to speak, your voice trembling despite yourself:

— Is… is this a marriage proposal?

The king burst into clear laughter, almost joyful, but every note of that laughter was filled with condescension. He shook his head slightly, as if amused by your supposed naivety.

— No, of course not! My dear, our social classes are far too distant for such absurdity, he said, letting the words drip with disdain.

He took another step, leaning slightly toward you, his tone lower, more intense.

— What I’m offering you is far more than a simple marriage. I’m offering you life, an existence by my side, as the royal mistress. A title few could claim, a privileged place in my world.

He paused, his eyes scrutinizing every detail of your face, watching for your reaction.

— And together, we will live happily until the end of time. Until the stars themselves extinguish, and the universe is nothing but a memory.

His smile widened, triumphant, as if he already knew what your answer would be. But deep inside, a storm raged. The final decision is yours.

A/n ²: Hope you enjoyed :3. If this is the case, please let me know. Besides, I have lots of ideas for explanations and follow-ups (like: -Why did Jean act like this?, (assuming Darling chooses to live)What will life be like for Darling now that she is a royal mistress?, What if the king had a wife?)