#i PROMISE next chapter is sm better... smut

[hailthegodsong]

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HIGH RIFT PLAINS: Chapter 1

Word Count: 10.4k+

𓄀 A/N: Well! Here it is! This first chapter is maybe a little boring for some but I promise the next chapter it picks up with some smut and drama and stuff. I was suuuuuper nervous to post this so I hope you like my rendition of sexy cowboy jake

𓄀 Content Warnings: Mentions of loneliness, petty theft, mentions of deceased family, depictions of prostitution, thats about it folks!

Somewhere in Montana, May 1875

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The sun hung low in the vast, cloudless sky, casting a burnt orange glow over the rolling plains that reached far into the distance, vanishing softly into the horizon. Jake adjusted his hat, pulling the brim lower to shield his eyes from the glare and his skin from the sun. 

His horse, a bay mare named Bessie, moved at a slow, steady pace beneath him, hooves crunching against the dry, dusty trail. The wind was a mere whisper, stirring up occasional flurries of dust, but otherwise, the world around him was eerily still.

He'd been riding for hours, and his hips and legs ached against the steady rhythm of the saddle. In the distance, there was no sign of life and no movement apart from the sway of grass, and it had been like that since he’d set off from the last town. 

But Jake liked it that way. He wasn’t in a hurry. There was no reason to be, not out there. As a traveller and a salesman, he was used to days like this, where the journey seemed endless, and towns were few and far between.

He patted the side of his saddlebag, feeling the weight of his goods, pistols, gun parts, tools, and the gun oil that he always managed to sell to the more gullible folk. 

“Folks never know what they need 'til you show 'em what they can’t live without,” he muttered under his breath, the words from his father a familiar mantra.

Bessie huffed softly, as if in agreement, her ears twitching at the sound of his voice. Jake gave her a light squeeze with his heels, and she picked up the pace just a little. Somewhere out there was another town, a handful of ranches maybe, people he could talk to and trade with. He knew he was bound to find something soon, even if it was just a place to rest his head for the night.

𓄀

Finally, after what felt like days, but was only a few more eventless hours, Bessie reached a crest in the plains, revealing the faint outlines of buildings in the distance. A town, he realised and his lips curled into a half smile at the sight. 

He loosened his grip on the reins, giving Bessie the signal to descend the slope at a leisurely pace, her hooves kicking up large gusting clouds of dust as they neared the town’s edge.

As the beaten track slowly turned into a recognisable gravel road, he looked around, wondering if this town was a quiet, unassuming place, just like all the others he’d passed through. 

But that was just how he liked it— a town so small that folks relied on his services to maintain their inventory. He always liked to see how isolation had changed a town, letting them develop their own perks and customs different to the last.

As he neared the main street though, the town slowly came to life. Wooden buildings with sagging porches lined the road, their paint faded and cracked. A blacksmith’s shop clanged with the sound of hammer on iron, while a handful of vendors peddled their goods from stalls. 

Women in bonnets hurried along the boardwalks, baskets full of vegetables or cloth, their eyes darting to him for a moment before they returned to their business. Men leaned against posts or sat outside shopfronts, nursing afternoon beers, their conversations fading to murmurs as they watched him pass. 

His gaze swept the scene as he took in every detail, watching as the roughened hands of local shopkeepers sorted through their wooden artefacts, neatly setting them up to attract potential buyers. 

There was opportunity here, he could tell. These were people who worked hard and needed the things he had to sell. If he played his cards right, he could sell them just about everything he had.

Intrigued, he continued down the trodden path and further into what looked like the farmers markets, perched high on his horse as he peered down at the locals. 

Some men sold crops, grain and other farmed materials, while others sold their metal trinkets, varying from fire pokers to long rusted chimney pipes. There were women who held their own stalls too, mostly all selling cloth, bedsheets, and intricately embroidered materials. 

One woman though, he noted, was perched by a stall that seemed to be selling just about everything. Wild rags, fresh vegetables, leather riding boots, broad brimmed hats, jars upon jars of milk, and more that he couldn't see past the mess of the stall beside her.

You were speaking to a frequent buyer when he noticed you, giving him the allusion that you didn't know he was there. But you had been watching him since he approached the markets, immediately recognising that he was not from around these parts, and kept a wary eye out for him in suspicion. 

He only paused for a moment to eye you and your products, briefly inspecting the variety of jams you had stacked by the floor, but did not linger for too long before he gently tapped Bessies side with his foot, continuing his walk onward.

Once he reached the first saloon he could find, Jake swung off his horse, quick to stretch out the tightness in his thighs, and he stroked away the flies that clung to Bessie's side, her skin twitching at the feeling. He wandered around her, taking her by the reins and eyeing the dirty area down for a hitching rail. 

He felt anxious tying her up by the other horses, not yet comfortable enough with the locals to trust that they wouldn’t steal her. He had done his research though, and this state, like many others, outlawed horse stealing as a crime punishable by death. But he was smart enough to know that the law didn't stop many.

Alas, he tied her up reluctantly, just like he always did, muttering a quiet prayer under his breath to keep her safe. He used the knot his father had taught him, one that most people did not know how to undo. Jake knew Bessie was a loyal girl anyway, a loud girl too, and if anyone tried to take her, he would know.

An old man with wild, wiry, white hair and an auburn leather hat over his head sat on the steps outside the saloon, watching him as he left the bay. Jake noted the leather chaps on his thighs, and the orange dust that coated his face from a day of riding. Jake gave him a nod, the kind that was polite but not too familiar, and although recognising his gesture, the older man looked away. 

Ignoring the disrespect and returning his attention to the saloon, Jake listened as the tune of a piano filtered out the swinging doors. As he stepped in, he let his senses overwhelm him, glasses clinked in cheers and loud conversation echoed in the acoustics of the room. Further down, men sat perched at the bar, swaying in their drunken haze despite the early hours of the afternoon. 

This was the kind of place where the townsmen gathered after a long day to let loose— and to loosen their purse strings in the process. He'd ply his relationships here first, getting to know the men and making a name for himself, and set out into the marketplace in the morrow. 

Slipping onto one of the wooden barstools, Jake hailed down the bartender, ordering a whisky neat and sliding the coins over the table, the movements done so often that they had become automatic. 

“M’names Raymond,” the man beside him introduced, a slur accompanying his unmistakable accent, “But you can call me Ray.” 

He outstretched his dirt covered hand, indicating he'd had a long day on a ranch somewhere, and Jake took it politely, shaking firm. 

“Jacob,” he replied, keeping his hat tipped low as he sipped at the drink before him. “S’ nice to meet ‘chu.”

“Likewise. You new to town? I aint seen you ‘round here ‘fore,” he questioned, nursing his beer in his thick hands, thumb swiping at the condensation that had gathered on the glass. 

“Yes sir. Only stayin’ for a couple’a months. Here to sell some tools and such,” Jake explained, hoping to get his market into discussion amongst the local men. 

“Ah, a nomad then?”

Jake tilted his head at the label, “Of sorts.”

He grunted, “And where’re you finding a pillow to rest your head?” As Jake's gaze travelled high in thought, Ray spoke again, “You know… we’ve got some lovely ladies in town that’d keep you for a night at not too bad a price,” he advised, gesturing to the back corner of the bar. 

Jake leaned forward only slightly, peering into the dark corner of the bar, only illuminated by a single kerosene lamp, where a man sat by the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys in a fluid motion. 

Ray was clearly not referring to the pianist though, as Jake's eyes assessed the scarcely dressed women who flaunted themselves upon the men who sat nearby.

Jake barked out a laugh, “Careful, you’re sounding much like a procurer.”

But when Jaked looked back at Ray, he found that his eyes were lust taken as the ladies bent over, necks exposed as they threw their heads back in laughter, showing off the deep crevice between their breasts. 

Jake ticked his tongue, “Don’t be fooled by women o’ such, Ray,” he patted his back, “They just want their pretty penny by the end of the night.”

Ray turned back to Jake, grunting as he swung back the rest of his beer and shouted at the bartender to pour him another. Jake took his chance, knowing that Ray was on the cusp of being too drunk to be coherent, and drunk enough to fall for the temptations of gullibility. 

Maybe it was wrong, immoral, but Jake didn’t care. Everyone knew that the truth only got you so far.

“Say, you have much use for guns, Ray?” Jake asked, leaning slightly closer to him.

“O’course I do. I’m a farmer.”

As Jake opened his mouth to make a proposition, and perhaps his first sale in town, Ray spoke again. 

“But I won’t have any need for any if ye’r tryna’ sell me some. Could’n’ afford it. I can barely make my way as is. Hardly made a dollars profit this season,” he explained, and Jake frowned in sympathy. “But I’ll be sure to spread your name, Jacob. No use in the two of us scraping by.”

Jake briefly mourned the loss of the potential customer, but was reassured by his promise. Word of mouth truly was the best form of advertisement. 

“Why’s that? Farm and what not’s good out here, aint it?” Jake asked, abandoning his sales approach completely. 

“Usually, yes. But some’fin happened last season and none o’ ma crops made it through the summer. Er’one else's did, so I dunno what the shit happened to mine. ‘S turned me into a filthy criminal, it has,” he barked out a laugh, though Jake could tell he was far from happy, only masking the pain and stress of financial struggles beneath his humour and booze. 

Filthy criminal? Jake thought, not quite understanding the meaning behind Ray's insinuation, but mostly attributed his incoherency to the alcohol pooling in his gut.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck Raymond, I truly do,” Jake patted his back in sympathy. “Now, where can I find a place to sleep ‘round here? ‘Part from the beds of those fine ladies, ‘course,” Jake asked, smirking.

“Well, this old place ain't just a saloon, it’s a tavern too. S’ got beds upstairs for travellers like yourself,” he explained, and Jake peered up at the ceiling and pursed his lips. 

“Should do for a coupl’a nights ‘til I find a place more permanent. I’m hopin’ I can help around a ranch or some’fin like that in exchange for a place to stay,” Jake explained. 

“Well I wish you luck too then. Not too many people ‘round these parts would be willin’ to let some cowboy shack up in their place.”

Jake tipped back the rest of his drink and stood from his seat, “Well it’s a good thing I aint a cowboy, then isn't it?” he said with a smirk. 

Once Jake had left the saloon and untied Bessie from the wooden post, he settled into her saddle and spent the rest of the day exploring the new town. The leather saddle creaked under him as he adjusted his weight, feeling the familiar comfort of the practice despite the long hours. 

As they ambled through the streets, Jake marvelled at the town’s size. It was bigger than any he had come across before. The perimeters stretched out far beyond what he was used to, with sprawling neighbourhoods and a network of roads that hinted at a prosperous community.

He travelled across those dirt paths to explore the ranches nearby, assessing the homes and wealth of the locals. Every market, shop and farm he had come across seemed abundant in supplies, thriving in their economy. 

His thoughts turned to his own business, and he hoped that amidst the prosperity, the town might be lacking in gun makers, an opportunity he could potentially exploit. The thought gave him a small thrill, imagining the possibilities if he could tap into a market where his skills were in high demand.

By nightfall, Jake made his way back to the tavern where he had decided to stay. He paid for two nights’ accommodation, hoping that in the morning he might find a more permanent place to rest. The tavern was cosy, with the warm glow of lanterns casting a welcoming light over the wooden interior. Jake felt a sense of satisfaction as he settled in for the night, the day's adventures already weaving their way into his thoughts.

For dinner, he enjoyed a hearty steak served by a small front next door. Afterward, he tended to Bessie, making sure she was settled in a nearby stable with plenty of feed and water. And then he got some well needed rest.

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The next day, Jake spent his time scouring for customers, hopping off Bessie to speak with men on the streets who looked like the kind he usually struck deals with. The sun was already climbing high in the sky, beating down relentlessly, but Jake didn’t seem to mind. His eyes scanned every passerby with sharp focus, weighing his options. He knew his clientele well, their hardened faces, the way they glanced over their shoulders, or the worn leather of their holsters were often all he needed to know he’d found a potential buyer.

Throughout the day, he managed to score three sales, each one giving him a surge of satisfaction. Most were trades— spare parts, bits of hardware that were hard to come by in areas like this— but he took particular pride in his bartering, always able to coax a better deal out of his customers. 

Still, there was one transaction in particular that stuck with him. He’d sold a shiny new Samuel Colt pistol for fourteen dollars, one he’d only bought a week ago for far less. The gleam of the gun had been an easy selling point, its craftsmanship speaking for itself, but Jake’s way with words sealed the deal. The man had been eager to take it, and Jake had walked away with his pockets a little heavier, a satisfied grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

By the time the sun began to lower, casting long shadows over the street, Jake was feeling good about the day’s success. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, the cool breeze that had begun to stir offering a much needed reprieve from the heat. He patted Bessie’s side, tying her up in a shaded spot near a saloon where she’d be safe, before turning his attention back to the town around him.

The noise picked up increasingly as Jake made his way deeper into the market, the hum of voices and the clang of metal and wood surrounding him. Stalls were bustling with people, haggling over prices and inspecting goods with careful eyes. 

He scoffed when he passed one particular booth, its shelves lined with second-hand boots. Everyone knew wearing someone's old boots was a sure way to invite bad luck into your life, and Jake wasn’t about to tempt fate, especially not with something as personal as someone's shoes. They held the miles of another man's journey, the hardships, and the wear. Better to leave those stories to someone else.

As he moved on, something shiny caught his eye. A flash of silver among a sea of worn leather and dusty trinkets. His pace slowed, and his curiosity got the better of him. He neared the stall, his gaze locking onto the object that had drawn his attention: a silver belt buckle, gleaming in the light. The craftsmanship was intricate, far more refined than the other items scattered around it.

Jake reached out, taking the buckle between his fingers, the cool metal sending a slight chill through his skin. He rubbed the front of it with the pad of his thumb, feeling the smooth surface give way to the detailed engravings. The buckle was flat and rectangular, but its simplicity was offset by the fine, almost mesmerising, designs etched into it. Patterns swirled along the edges, delicate and precise, and at its centre, the maker had carved a scene of a horse and rider, frozen in mid gallop.

He looked up at the seller, who was sitting by a table, etching illustrations into pieces of metal by lightly knocking a thin chisel with a hammer. 

“Excuse me?” he called out, and the worker paused to look at him.

“What is it, boy?” he asked, and Jake shifted at the name, noting that the man owning the store looked only a mere few years older than he. 

“How much for this buckle?” Jake asked, holding the piece up to show him. 

The owner squinted at the piece, “Ah, that one goes for two dollars.” 

Pricy, Jake thought. “Can you do a dollar fifty?”

The man narrowed his eyes at Jake, “A dollar and three quarters,” he corrected. 

“I’ll take it,” Jake decided, shoving his hand deep into the denim of his pockets and retrieving the currency. “Thank you kind sir,” Jake said as he took the buckle, slipping it into the pocket of his jacket. 

The man tipped his hat at him, taking the money and returning to his carving work. 

Though he wouldn't admit it, Jake's pace quickened when the hardware appliances began to morph into fruits, vegetables and domestic items, as his eyes began to scan the markets in search for one stall in particular. 

Women called out to him from where they stood, offering their goods with a flutter of their lashes, and Jake merely smiled and moved on, no longer falling for flirtation as a lure to empty his money belt. 

His thumbs hooked into the folds of his pockets as he listened to the lively sounds of chattering and banter. The scent of fresh bread and dried herbs mingled with the tang of leather and livestock, and Jake tried his best to shake away the feeling of comfort and nostalgia this town gave him. 

He found your stall easily, the voluminous selection of goods you were selling standing out against every other item being sold in the markets. He approached the stall, this time able to stop and assess your produce, assess you.

But to his confusion, you were nowhere to be seen, and your abundance of inventory seemed to be left completely unattended. 

He let his eyes scan over everything you had to sell, from the domestic goods like linens, bed sheets and socks, to the vast amount of produce you were selling. Rich colours of vegetables stood out amongst your market table, paper sacks of lentils below. 

As Jake walked around the sides of your shop, he eyed the leather straps and metal horse bits you sold, all seemingly new and handmade. By the back of the stall, baked loaves of bread were perched on wooden slabs, along with jars upon jars of jam. Multi coloured bandanas were strewn along the table cloth around the perimeter of the shop, and Jake's brows shot up in astonishment of your inventory. 

Curiously, he looked around the area in search of you, only just remembering what your face looked like from his brief look the day before. He spotted the head of your long hair from beneath and behind the counter. He wearily leaned over in confusion, and found you bare footed and crouched on the dirt, washing tomatoes in a bucket of clear water. 

He smirked at the sight and cleared his throat to get your attention, “S’cuse me Ma’am?” he added, gaining your attention from below. You dropped the tomatoes into the bucket of water and stood, meeting your customer at eye level while you smoothed your creased dress with your wet hands. 

“How can I help you?” you asked.

Jake grabbed a random kerchief from your table, “How much for a wild rag?” he asked with a smile. 

“Ten cents each.”

Surprise graced his features at how cheap you were selling them for. To his dismay, you quickly returned to your work, not sparing him another moment before picking up the tomatoes from the bucket below and bringing them to a wooden workbench where you dried them with a cotton dish rag. 

Not used to receiving such little attention, Jake called for you again, his voice carrying hints of nerves and uncertainty. 

“When were these harvested?” he asked, lifting up the first vegetable he could see, which happened to be a zucchini.

You merely glanced at him and the vegetable before answering, “‘Bout a week ago.”

Jake frowned as you refocused on your work. He had never been denied the attention of a lady like this, especially not one who was selling to him. He was suddenly a young boy again, fighting for the attention of the prettiest girl in town. 

Huffing, he watched as you worked away, consumed by your task and occasionally tucking hair from your fringe behind your ears. 

You were a very fair lady, Jake thought, and maybe that was why you didn't care much for his attention. Maybe you were too used to being proposed to by local suitors and were numbed to the repetitive form of flirtations they administered. Or maybe you were already married.

In desperation, he found himself eagerly trying to spot a ring on your finger, even nearly outright asking you of your status as your hands moved too quickly for him to see. He reprimanded himself at the thought, reminding himself of what he was truly here for. 

He wasn't here to get distracted, he needed to focus on making money, selling parts, and getting out of town, the weight of his goods replaced by gold. 

Deciding it was time to go, and to stop lingering by your store like a pervert, Jake bought two zucchinis and a dark brown wild rag from you, happily sliding his fare across the table in your direction before he made his return to the tavern. 

𓄀

The next day, Jake was restless, flying through his meetings with gun buyers in hopes to make connections, but unable to stop thinking about you. 

It bothered him so that you paid him close to no mind, and he had found himself tossing and turning all night at the plaguing thought. 

Once he deemed his day of work done, he hastily returned to the markets, this time with much more fervour. 

Once he made out your silhouette in the distance, again standing by your workbench and wiping vegetables down with a cloth, he straightened his shoulders and fixed his hair. He made sure his hat was on straight and his collar was flat against his chest before slowing his pace to a leisurely walk. 

He sauntered up to your station, making brief eye contact with you, and frowning when you paid him no mind, once again.

“Hello, again,” he greeted, a charming smile on his face. 

You peered up at him, squinting as the late sun shone from behind him, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.” You tried not to smile at the look of offence on his face, of course you remembered him. 

He cleared his throat and raised his chin, “Yes I… bought a wild rag and some zucchinis from you yesterday,” he explained, trying to rejog your memory, cheeks reddening in embarrassment as the obscure purchase left his lips. 

“Oh yes, that’s right,” you said simply, before leaving him to return to your work of cutting square pieces of fabric to place over your jam lids. 

Shaking off the rejection like an annoying fly, he moved around the edge of the table, finding a position closer to you, trying his best to insert himself into your line of sight. His eyes flew over the cabbages you had on this table, and he leant his hip against the wooden slab casually. 

“Would you mind not leaning on that? The table is very fragile,” you advised, watching as it shook under the weight of his hip. 

He quickly pulled himself off and rubbed the heel of his palm against his brow, “Yes, sorry.” He wiped an invisible layer of dust off the table to keep his hands occupied, sucking in a deep breath. 

Jake's resolve was getting worse with every word you spoke to him, giving him mere breadcrumbs as he shamelessly begged for your attention. 

“Well uh, you’ve got quite the selection here… you make all this by yourself, or you got someone back home helpin’ you out?” he asked smugly, biting his lip as he awaited a response. 

You weren't stupid, and you could tell that this was his attempt at wooing you, first scoping your status to ensure you weren't married before he flirted with you. As if he hadn’t already been doing so.

“No, only me,” you explained, eyes trained on your task as Jake hummed at your response. 

Movement caught your eye from behind him, and you glanced up to see a man shovelling tomatoes from your table into a sack, clearly intent on not paying his fare. 

“Hey!” you shouted. 

Jake turned and spotted the man at the same time you did, who was now spinning on his heel to run, realising he had been caught. Without a moment's hesitation, Jake’s feet sprang into action, and he bolted after the man, kicking up dust as he sprinted through the street.

You watched him go, hearing the faint jingle of his necklaces and other small trinkets bouncing and clattering as he ran. The sight of him giving it everything, all to catch a tomato thief of all things, brought a small laugh to your lips.

It was hard not to find it amusing. This man, with all his intensity, was chasing after someone who’d managed to swipe only a handful of tomatoes. It wasn’t as if it would put you out of business. 

You knew it, and he likely did too. Still, something in him wouldn’t let it go.

Jake’s long strides ate up the ground beneath him, his muscles coiled tight as adrenaline surged through his veins. His focus was unbreakable, his eyes locked on the back of the man’s jacket, watching him weave and dart between the townsfolk. 

Every step seemed heavier than the last as his boots thudded against the dirt street, dust flying up with every pounding footfall. His breath came through clenched teeth, harsh and rhythmic, fueling his pursuit.

The commotion began to stir the crowd. People exclaimed in surprise as they whizzed by, a blur of frantic energy cutting through the town. Conversations halted, and baskets were dropped as a makeshift path opened up for the chase, townspeople scrambling to get out of the way, nobody wanting to get caught up in the chaos.

The thief, quick as he was, couldn’t shake Jake. His frantic, erratic movements only seemed to fuel Jake's determination. 

Jake’s breath came in short bursts, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he closed the distance. His heartbeat drummed in his ears, blocking out everything but the sight of the man just inches ahead of him.

Finally, Jake lunged, his outstretched hand catching the thief’s left shoulder. The impact sent both of them crashing to the ground in a heap, dust rising in a cloud around them. 

Jake hit the dirt hard, rolling onto his back with a low grunt, struggling to catch his breath. He lay there for a moment, his thumb pressed into his sternum as he tried to force the air back into his lungs, the wind having been completely knocked out of him.

As his breath finally returned in ragged gasps, he let his hand fall away from his chest, only to grimace at the sight that greeted him. A tomato had been squashed between him and the ground during the fall, leaving a wide, red stain smeared across the front of his white cotton shirt. He sighed, lazily wiping at the mess, chunks of tomato peeling off him and falling onto the ground like sad little remnants of the chase.

The thief, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble, scrambled to his feet, abandoning the sack of stolen goods in his haste. He threw one last look over his shoulder, a mix of disbelief and fear on his face, as if Jake had lost his mind for caring so much about a few tomatoes. Without another word, the thief disappeared into the crowd, vanishing between stalls and onlookers.

Jake groaned as he slowly pushed himself up, dusting off his pants with one hand while the other scooped up the abandoned sack. The orange dirt clung to his clothes, and as much as he tried to wipe it off, it seemed permanent as an attestment to his fall. 

His body felt heavy with the effort, each step back toward you a little slower, a little more laboured. 

The townspeople, who had been watching the whole affair, now stared at him with a mixture of judgement and curiosity. Jake pressed his lips together into a thin line, the heat rising in his cheeks, but he kept his head high. He tipped his hat at a few of the more bold onlookers, silently daring them to say something. They didn’t.

But all of it, the run, the fall, the ruined shirt, was worth it when he spotted you standing at your stall, watching him with amusement dancing in your eyes, biting your lip to hold back your laughter. 

His heart lifted a little despite himself, and he felt a flush creep up his neck as he approached, still clutching the sack. With a sheepish grin, he tipped the small bag of tomatoes onto your table. He hadn’t realised how few there were until that moment. Just two sad-looking tomatoes looked back up at you both.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping him. “Well, it would’a been three if one of ‘em hadn’t burst on my shirt,” he joked, glancing down at the red stain spreading across his front.

You giggled at the sight of him, his proud form now covered in tomato juice, and gave him a grateful smile. "Well, thank you for your effort nonetheless. Whether it’s two tomatoes or ten, I sure do appreciate it."

He straightened up a little, puffing out his chest. "Well, it’s poor taste to steal from a lady,” he said proudly, though there was a teasing glint in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow at him, folding your arms over your chest. "Oh? But you’d steal from a man, would ya?"

Jake cocked his head to the side, a slow smile spreading across his face as he licked his lips. “Well, I didn’t say that, now did I?”

You bit your cheek to stop from smiling too wide, your intrigue growing with each word he spoke. There was something about this man, with his easy charm and recklessness, that had a way of pulling you in. And you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that you wanted to see what else there was to discover beneath that dusty exterior.

“Nightfall is near, so I’m due to close up. If you follow me back to my ranch I can get your shirt cleaned up,” you offered, feeling indebted to him for his efforts. 

“And who says I can’t clean it myself?” he challenged, testing your intentions. 

“As far as I’m aware, there ain't no running water inside that ol’ tavern,” you rebutted, beginning to pack away your things into baskets and sacks, before placing them onto your wooden supply cart. 

“Is that so? And what makes you think I’m staying at the tavern tonight?” he questioned, following you around the edge of the table.

You kept your eyes trained to your produce as you spoke, “Word travels fast ‘round these parts, Jacob.”

Startled, Jake smiled with intrigue. His ears heated at the fact that you knew his name, and something else heated at the sound of you saying it. 

“Well, you can call me Jake, if you like. It’s nice to meet you,” he introduced, removing his leather hat and pressing it against his chest politely. You looked up at him with a small smile, and returned the gesture by introducing yourself. 

Jake repeated your name, as if to see how the word tasted on his tongue. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” he complimented. “I might just take you up on your offer, d’you need a hand packing anything away?” he asked. 

“Yes actually, if you could lift the sacks of lentils on the cart, they’re a bit too heavy for me.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as Jake got to work lugging the heavier items onto your cart, leaving you to wrap up everything else in the meantime. With two sets of hands, the pack up was far quicker than expected, and soon you were both walking to retrieve your horses from the hitching rail. 

“You have a beautiful mare,” you complimented, watching as he skillfully untied her ropes from the fencepost. 

“Thank you, her name is Bessie. She’s a good girl,” he said, giving her a firm pat on her behind. She huffed and leaned her head down and to the side, directly beside his. He began to stroke her nose and she blew through her nose in affection. 

“This is Buck,” you said, unlooping his rope and walking him over to Jake, and you stifled a laugh when Buck's hoofs kicked up dirt onto Jake's boots.

Jake took in the sight of him. He was slightly smaller than Bessie, and his red dun coat shone in the last lights of the day. 

“He’s gorgeous,” Jake admired. “I like what you’ve done here,” he complimented, waving his hand over the braids you had weaved into his brown mane. 

“Thank you,” you replied as you both walked your horses by their ropes away from the hitching rail and back towards your stall, “He is a good boy too, but he can get a bit anxious at times. Calms him down when I play with his hair," you explained.

You attached the rear saddle straps onto the wagon and buckled the belts tightly, tying them in knots for good measure. 

“Alright,” you stated, clutching onto the horn of the saddle and slipping your food into the left stirrup. Bracing yourself, you heaved your body up with a groan, swinging your leg over Buck's back and plopping onto the saddle. The leather creaked under your weight, and you adjusted your position, making sure you were secure before giving Buck a gentle nudge.

Jake did the same, but with much more ease and fluidity. His movements were smooth and practised, a stark contrast to your own somewhat awkward effort despite the fact that you rode every day. You attributed your disadvantage to the layers of skirts you wore. He swung up onto his saddle with a natural grace that spoke of a lifetime spent on the horse. Once settled, he followed you as you walked off, your horses’ hooves crunching softly on the packed dirt road.

The ride was mostly silent, a comfortable quiet that stretched between you, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves or distant call of a bird. You could feel Jake’s gaze occasionally shifting toward you from your right, but you kept your gaze forward, focusing on the path ahead. There was something about his attention that made you feel self conscious, though you couldn’t quite place why.

The sun was dipping lower in the sky now, casting a warm, golden light that made the world seem to glow. Your shadows grew longer, stretching out in front of you and bobbing with you as you bounced each step your stallion took. You sighed contentedly, savouring the feeling of the warmth on your back. It was a pleasant end to the day, the kind of simple pleasure that made the long hours worth it.

As you approached the ranch, Jake’s eyes scanned the area, taking in the sights with a careful look. His gaze swept over the landscape, noting the sprawling cropland and the various outbuildings that marked your home. It was clear that he was observing everything with a keen interest, absorbing the surroundings as if they might offer some insight into your life here.

Ahead, he could see your home. A subtle, but respectable building, made mostly out of wood and stone. After your fathers passing, you had decorated its exterior with lush herbs and flowers, often harvesting them to season your meals or add to tea. They took over your windowsills in a flourish, travelling down onto the stone bottom of your home that met the ground, spreading out onto the small garden out front.

Wrapped around you were flat plains of grass, one hundred acres of land to be exact. A quarter of that land had been dedicated to agriculture. Fields of wheat, cotton, corn could be seen in the distance and your cattle munched on the grass beside the fence posts you passed by, watching Jake and his horse curiously. 

You had also dedicated your agriculture to vast vegetable gardens, growing freely and mingling amongst one another in a mess of cabbage, lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, broccoli, and other vegetables that you couldn't even name, their seeds passed on to you by trusted travellers before.

Beside your home was a small set of stables, enough to house your horse and any visitors you may have. Your pony, the only other horse you owned, aggressively preferred to stay in the fields with the cows, and was prone to bucking if you encouraged it to do otherwise. 

A clothing line with skirts, bedsheets and other fabrics hung across the front garen, washed in the sun's afterthoughts, and looking so beautiful amongst the rest of your home. 

Although a little run down, Jake thought as he noticed half of your front fence collapsing, your home was beautiful. As you both declined the shallow hill to enter your land, you pointed Jake towards the stables, a place where he could tie up Bessie safely, and where she could munch on some hay with Buck. 

You threw a sheet over the trailer of goods you were selling at the markets, keeping it protected from thieving animals in the night, strapping it down with long leather belts for extra security. 

Jake was mostly silent as he took in the exterior of your home, and you were too, fearing his judgement and hoping you hadn't left anything too embarrassing out on the clothing line or on your kitchen worktop as you showed Jake the way inside. 

Your home glowed in gold, as the sun shone through the windows and onto the wood, turning it a warm orange. You made your way inside, heading straight for the kitchen to fetch a bar of soap and a bucket, but when you turned around you realised that the room was empty. 

You wandered back to the front of the house, and found Jake standing warily by the doorway, peering in cautiously. 

“You can come in!” you assured, “Just take your boots off, you can leave ‘em by the door.” 

Jake smiled at you timidly, his cocky demeanour long gone now that he was under someone else's roof. Slipping his dirt ridden boots off and perching them by the front door as you said, he hesitantly followed you back through the house and into the kitchen. Dried herbs were hung from high wooden cabinets, and their aroma settled his qualms. 

As you continued to gather soaps in preparation, Jake looked out from your kitchen window at the ranch, where he could see your cows basking in the sun. 

Chickens ran around beside a small coop close to the house, and Jake could hear them clucking amongst the sound of birds singing in the nearby trees. A strong feeling of calm washed over him, warmer than the sun had been on his back earlier, but he was quick to brush it off. 

In and out, he repeated in his head, reminding himself not to get too comfortable. He was here to sell his goods, make a couple of bucks and move on.

“Okay, hand over your shirt, I should only be a minute,” you instructed, looking back over at him with a polite smile on your face. 

He stared at you wordlessly for a moment, as if processing what you had said, and was only snapped out of his daze when you cleared your throat. 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he blurted, his fingers nimble as they made to unbutton his shirt. A task so simple, so mundane, and so repetitive, had somehow never felt harder. 

Unknowing of his apparent nerves, you waited patiently until he unbuttoned it all the way, which wasn't far seeing as he only had the bottom few done up anyways. You tried not to stare at his tanned chest as he slipped the material completely off his body. 

You took it from his hands and carried it with you as you left the kitchen and walked to the porch, the padding of his feet on the floorboards the only indication that he was following you. 

“Please, sit,” you gestured to a wooden chair with white cushions on it, the one you always chose to sit on when you needed to decompress for the day. 

You crouched on the ground, and stretched his shirt out before you, assessing where the tomato stain was, amongst the rest of the dirt that had been smeared on it during his fall and submerged the shirt under the soapy water. 

You peered up at Jake through your fringe and watched as he sat awkwardly. He was feeling wildly uncomfortable at the impropriety of being alone in the presence of a lady, especially while shirtless. 

Jake took off his hat, and rested it on his lap against his front, giving him some reprieve from the feeling of his upper half being completely naked. He watched silently as you scrubbed the spot on his shirt with a bristly wooden tool soaked in water and soap. 

Soon, the sun warmed his skin, and he leaned back into the chair, sighing at the softness of the cushions and listening intently to the sloshing sound of soapy water, slowly being overcome by the sound of your gentle voice, humming a simple tune. 

Once you were finished, you stood from your spot, and Jake watched you with careful eyes as you stepped off the porch, your bare feet making contact with the soft grass below. You rung the shirt of most of its wetness as you moved toward clothing line. He stared as you rose to the tips of your toes to reach the line, pegging the shirt on neatly so that it didn't crease and was in direct exposure to the last light's of the sun. 

“There we go,” you said, wiping your hands on your skirts and returning to Jake on the porch, “Hopefully it dries by nightfall, ‘s a dry day today, not much wetness in the air.”

Jake hummed, “Thank you very much. It’s very kind o’ you, to do that.”

You smiled, “‘Course. Can I fetch you some tea?” you offered and he agreed politely, thanking you again. 

Jake stared out at the ranch as you fixed each of you a cup of tea, letting his mind wander to other things, memories of his past escapades. 

Never would he have guessed he would end up in a place like this. He was used to sleeping on the floor most nights to find his way, and never found himself being served a cup of tea by a beautiful woman. The same woman who had just washed his clothes for him at that. 

“Here ya’ go,” you said, placing his cup into his hands gently, before taking your place in a soft seat beside him, looking out at the same view he had been watching before. 

Jake thanked you again and took a sip, brows rising in surprise at the rich flavour, “Can’t say I’ve e’er had this ‘fore. What is it?”

“It’s called wild rose hip tea. One of the local natives gave me a branch of the dried herbs, told me it stops you from gettin’ sick. And I must say, I ain't been sick since I started drinkin’ it,” you explained, sipping the warm liquid and humming at the tangy fruity taste. 

He nodded his head with his bottom lip jutted out in admiration for your story, “‘S good.”

You both sat in silence for a few beats, listening to your chickens cluck as they wandered freely around your garden.

“So, traveller,” you started, and Jake raised a brow. “How long do you plan to stay here in town?”

He sighed, “Well, I ain't got enough to stay at the inn for another night, so I’m to find a new bed to hold me for a couple’a months as soon as I may.”

“And what about tonight?” you asked in concern. 

He smiled, “Guess I’ll just have to find a warm tree to settle under. Bessie’ll keep me company.”

You sat with yourself in deep thought for a few moments. You knew better than to invite a stranger into your home, let alone a dodgy traveller. But from the limited time you had spent with him, you felt no disparity towards his genuinity. 

You usually had a good judgement for things like this, and your gut hadn’t turned at the thought of offering him the spare bedroom. 

“It gets cold ‘round here at night. I have a spare room you can take for the next while,” you offered. His eyes shot up in surprise at your offer. He shuffled in his seat, his eyes softening for a moment as he glanced toward the house. He shook his head.

"I appreciate the offer, Ma'am, but I can’t impose on you like that. This is your home, your space. I ain’t meant to be in the way."

"You wouldn’t be in the way at all. The house is big enough for the both of us. I’m sure you’ve been travelling for days, you could do with a proper bed."

He looked away, a small smile tugging at his lips, though there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

"I’m fine out here, really. Don’t need to make no fuss on my account. A man gets used to the sky after a while."

You crossed your arms, feeling the cool night air press against your skin as the sun began to set behind the horizon.

"How about the couch, then? It's comfortable enough, and I won’t bother you."

Jake scratched the back of his neck, shifting again and clearly uneasy with the idea. "Couch still feels too close, Miss. I ain’t one for overstayin’ my welcome, especially not under the roof of a lady."

You sighed softly, realising he was too proud, or maybe too respectful to accept anything that felt too intimate.

"Well, if you’re that set on it, I’ve got a small bed in the barn. It ain’t much, but it’s better than sleeping outside." 

You watched him carefully as he took in the sound of your offer, “Part of my fence is collapsing, you could fix it as payment for your stay,” you added, hoping it would sway his decision. 

Why you had become so insistent on him staying was beyond you. 

Jake’s eyebrows lifted, and you caught the glint of relief in his eyes, though he tried to hide it. "Now that sounds more like it. I reckon I could take you up on that,” he agreed, flashing a charming grin your way. 

You nodded, though a small tug of guilt pulled at your chest. The barn got cold at night, nowhere near as warm as the house, but he seemed so determined to keep his distance.

Sensing your discomfort, Jake tried to lessen your woes, "You’ve been more than kind, thank you for all your help. The barn suits me just fine, promise. A roof over my head’s more than I’m used to these days."

You nodded slowly, still feeling a bit uneasy, but you respected his choice nonetheless.

“I can start on your fence first thing in the morrow, I saw it on our way in, so you don’t gotta show me the way.”

You blushed at the thought of him seeing how poorly maintained you had kept your land after your fathers passing, “That bad?”

He cocked his head and clicked his tongue, “I’ve seen worse. Nothing to worry ‘bout Ma’am, I’ll have it sorted for you in no time.”

Jake stood from his seat with a sigh, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. 

“I best tend to Bessie soon, she gets restless when it comes to her dinner,” he laughed lightly, and you stood too. 

“Yes, you’re right, Buck’ll be needing some dinner by now too.”

You hopped off the porch and over to the clothing line, taking his shirt and rubbing your fingers over the now white spot that the tomato had stained. 

“Only slightly damp by now,” you said, offering his shirt back to him. 

He thanked you, expression softening with gratitude as he slipped his shirt back over his body, buttoning the bottom few up. 

“You have a lovely home here,” Jake complimented, as you wandered back to the stables, carrying buckets full with a mixture of hay, grain and water. 

“Thank you.” A weight in your stomach sunk in at his complement, as you knew your time on this homestead was limited. You shook away the thought quickly, knowing that there was nothing worse than to brood over things that couldn’t be changed. 

“I don’t think Bessies had a meal as good as this in a long time,” Jake laughed as you reached your horses, dropping their dinners in front of them. 

You took a dandy brush off the wall and got to work grooming Buck as he ate, the rhythmic strokes of the brush calming both him and you. His coat, matted with dust and flecks of dirt, resisted at first, but soon enough, the shine began to return. 

Jake, standing a few feet away, patted Bessie’s side affectionately, his rough hands moving over her sleek coat. You couldn't help but be a little envious of the way she had maintained the smoothness of her coat throughout the day, even after the long ride. Unlike Buck, who had somehow managed to collect dust and dirt despite spending most of the day tethered to a hitch, Bessie looked as if she had barely been touched by the elements.

Jake gave Bessie a satisfied nod, his voice low. "She always keeps herself clean, no matter what we get into." His hand lingered on her neck, rubbing circles into the spot where she liked it best. You glanced over, watching how she leaned into his touch, her contented snorts mixing with the soft sounds of the barn.

"You’re lucky," you muttered with a half smile, running the brush over Buck’s side with a little more vigour. "Buck ‘ere’s like a magnet for everything. Dust, mud, you name it. He’ll find it."

Jake chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Maybe he just likes keepin’ you busy."

You laughed, “Seems like it.”

The barn was quiet again, save for the sound of the horses munching on their dinner, the occasional stomp of a hoof or swish of a tail. The smell of hay and leather filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the horses. Darkness had begun to creep in, and you could barely make out Jake's face in the dim light. It felt peaceful here, a small, shared moment of stillness after a long day.

"You got a way with him, though," Jake started again, breaking the silence you had created, glancing over as he leaned against Bessie. "Takes a good hand to get a horse lookin’ as calm as he does now."

You felt a warmth in your chest at the compliment. "Well, he’s a good boy when he wants to be," you replied, scratching Buck’s ears, "Just has a mind of his own sometimes."

He chuckled, but remained mostly quiet. 

“So, where have you travelled from, Jacob?” you asked, keeping your voice light, though the question held a deeper curiosity you couldn’t quite shake.

He sighed through his nose, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of miles and years. Before responding, he glanced away, the lines in his face tightening for a moment as though he was trying to remember.

“I wish I could tell you, to be honest. I came east, but I never stay long enough to learn a town's name.” His voice was low, almost distant, like he was speaking more to himself than to you.

A flicker of sadness crept over his soft features, the edges of his usually guarded expression loosening as the words escaped. It was brief, just a moment, but you caught it. A vulnerability that vanished just as quickly as it appeared. 

He straightened his posture slightly and shifted his gaze to Bessie. The way he looked at her, you wondered if he found solace in the simplicity of her presence. A horse didn’t ask questions about where you’d been or what you’d lost.

You frowned, your brow creasing as his answer weighed on you more than you expected. “Do you like it like that?” 

Your words were gentle but pressing, trying to understand why someone would choose a life of such constant wandering. The thought of never having roots, never knowing the names of the places you passed through, seemed lonely.

He hesitated, his mouth opening slightly as if he had something to say but wasn’t quite ready to speak it. His jaw tightened, and you could see the battle going on inside him, between what he wanted to admit and what he felt he needed to keep to himself. He was quiet for so long that you thought he might not answer at all.

Finally, he exhaled, his voice rougher this time, like gravel shifting underfoot. “Sometimes I think I do.” He paused, his thumb tracing the brim of his hat, still not meeting your eyes. “There's a freedom in it. Never being tied to one place, getting to do whatever the shit I wanna,” he chucked dryly. “ But…” he trailed off, as if unsure whether to finish the thought.

“But?” you prompted softly, taking a step closer, still brushing Bucks coat to maintain a level of casual appearance despite your curiosity.

His gaze flicked to you briefly before he looked away again, back to Bessie. “But sometimes, it’d be nice to stay. To stop wondering where the next road leads, where I’m to end up the next day… where I’m gonna sleep for the night. Even if just for a little while.”

The words hung between you, heavy with the weight of what wasn’t being said. You could see it now, the weariness behind his eyes, the kind that comes from being a man always in motion but never really going anywhere.

It was the kind of tiredness that wasn’t just about lack of sleep. It was the kind that came from being alone, even when surrounded by others.

You wanted to ask him more, to dig deeper into the layers of his past, but something about the way his shoulders tensed told you to hold back. Instead, you gave him a small, understanding smile. “Well, you’ve got a place here for as long as you like, even if you only decide to stay for a little while.”

Jake didn’t say anything right away, but his posture softened just a bit, and for a moment, you thought you saw the corners of his mouth lift, barely, but it was hard to see in the dark. It wasn’t much, but it was something, acknowledgement, maybe even a little gratitude.

“Alright Buck, that’s enough,” you laughed softly as he began licking the inside of the bucket, big teeth nibbling at the wood in search for more. 

You lifted the food bucket, earning a frustrated stomp from Buck. 

“Oh you big sook, I think you’ll survive.” You patted his neck and opened the stable door to leave. 

“I’m going to prepare your bed place in the barn, do you know where to find me once Bessies finished eating?” you asked Jake, who stared at you from across the room in admiration. 

“Yes, I believe so. Are you sure you aren’t in any need of help?” he asked. 

“Yes, I’ll manage. Thank you,” you praised, “Would you like to join me for dinner afterward?” you offered, waiting in anticipation as he thought your request over. 

“No, I couldn't possibly take more from you than I already have.”

“What will you do for supper then?”

Jake patted a small satchel he had brought in with him, “Got some leftover travellin’ food right here.”

Unsure if he just preferred spending his time alone, or if he was trying his best to maintain his gentlemanly honour, you respected his wishes, muttering an ‘alright’ and taking one last look at the three of them before stepping out of the stables. 

The walk to the barn was cool, and eerie. The moon had taken stark replacement for the sun in the sky, casting your ranch with a dim, cool glow. You took a kerosene lamp and a box of matches alongside fresh bed sheets from inside your home, lighting the lamp while you walked to the barn and setting it on the floor when you arrived. 

The barn was a bit worse for wear, no longer housing the family of pigs that it did many years ago, and the silence was unsettling. 

Shaking the feeling, you bunched up your skirts and crouched to the floor where a small, thin mattress sat against bales of hay. You looked around in search for something to frame the mattress on, feeling too guilty to let Jake effectively sleep on the floor. 

You lumbered wooden crates across the floor of the barn, dragging up tufts of dirt and hay in the process, before you settled it in the corner, throwing the light mattress on top.

Shaking out the folded sheets, you breathed in the smell of clean laundry and tucked them over the bed properly. You wouldn't admit how much you struggled to fit the cover over the feather duvet, almost getting lost in the darkness as your head was consumed by the bedsheets. 

Alas, you managed, and tucked the end of the sheets in to keep any warmth from escaping. 

You stood back, hands on your hips as you blew a stray piece of hair from your face and took in your work. It would have to make do. 

Jake's footsteps fell heavily outside, and you wondered if they were to warn you of his approach, afraid to creep up and scare you in the otherwise silent night. 

“Wow,” he appraised, taking in your domestic work as he stepped into the dimly lit area. “This’s far nicer than I was expecting.”

You wondered if he was joking as you looked back at the measly setup, but when you looked back over at him, the look of gratitude in his eyes was unmistakably genuine. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. When you freeze half to death in the night, my couch’ll still be empty if you need it,” you offered, voice soft under your nerves, brewing from his burning gaze. 

As you moved to walk past him, he gently stopped you with a soft hand on your arm, the roughness of his skin shocking in contrast to the smoothness of your own. 

"Thank you, Ma'am, for your hospitality. I won’t forget your kindness."

“It’s no bother, truly… It um, gets a bit lonely ‘round here too sometimes,” you expressed, rather shyly.

His eyes held empathy for you, unbearing understanding of how you felt. He could only imagine how you struggled, living day by day to come home to an empty home. How you worked endlessly, and for what? 

Jake didn't need to say anything to show how he understood, to show how he truly heard you. Instead he nodded, eyes boring into yours in silent communication. 

With one last look, you turned and walked in the dark back to the house, hugging your torso in the cold. 

You ate supper alone, hoping Jake wasn’t as cold as you felt, and wondering if you would be crossing a line if you returned with heavier blankets to warm him up in the night. Deciding against your pressing thoughts, you washed your dishes and went straight to bed. 

Meanwhile, Jake lay awake, munching on the chewy chunk of stale bread he was sure he bought over a month ago. He stared up at the high ceiling in thought, recapping his stay here, which had seemed much different so far from any other town, and it was all because of you. 

He rolled over and put out the kerosene lamp, pulling the covers up to his neck and letting the distant sound of your cattle wandering and mooing lull him to sleep. 

𓄀

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[vamptizm]

hotel ii. — p. bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x notre dame!reader (+ slight olivia miles x reader)

synopsis: after a win against uconn, you find yourself caught in a tug-of-war between your on and off ex and one of your biggest rivals, who you simply can’t stay away from no matter how hard you try.

warnings: angst. hints of guilt tripping and controlling behaviour. flashback. reader is a little stupid. no smut (yet)

word count: 4.6k

note: i actually hate this chapter ngl. it feels like such a filler, even tho it’s important to the backstory?? anyway next chapter will be sm better (and nastier) i promise.

The first thing you noticed when you stirred awake was warmth—solid, steady warmth that wasn't yours. The second was the slow, even rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek, the rhythmic beat of a heart against your ear. For a moment, still tangled in the haze of sleep, it felt... nice. Safe.

Then it hit you.

Your eyes snapped open, breath catching as you took in the sight in front of you. Paige was still fast asleep, her arm slung loosely around your waist, her face relaxed in a way you rarely saw—unguarded, peaceful. Her blonde hair was a mess, strands falling across her forehead, and the faintest traces of last night's touches lingered on her lips, somehow still slightly swollen from kissing you senseless.

You swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of everything. The cool air against your bare skin where the sheets had slipped, the dull ache of muscles used in ways that had nothing to do with basketball, the way your body still felt Paige's hands on you like a ghost of last night.

You shouldn't have been here.

The thought sent a jolt through your limbs, panic curling around your ribs. This—whatever this was—wasn't supposed to feel like this. You were used to Paige in fleeting moments, stolen touches, short-lived memories, rushed hookups fueled by competition and adrenaline. Not... this. Not waking up wrapped in her arms like you belonged there.

Before you could think about it too much, you carefully slipped out from under her hold, freezing when she stirred slightly. But Paige didn't wake—just shifted onto her back with a sleepy sigh, lips parting slightly as she settled again.

Your chest tightened, but you shoved it down.

Grabbing your clothes, you dressed as quickly and quietly as possible, slipping on your sneakers and reaching for your phone. Your fingers hesitated on the door handle for half a second before you shook the thought away. No goodbyes. No second-guessing.

You slipped out, shutting the door softly behind you.

The hotel hallway was eerily quiet at this hour, but you kept your head down, walking with purpose despite the way your stomach churned. Every step felt heavier than it should, like guilt was trying to drag you back, but you didn't stop until you reached the parking lot.

Once you were inside your car, doors locked, you finally let out the groan that had been building in your throat, your head dropping against the steering wheel.

Your mind replayed it all—the way Paige had kissed you, slow and deep, like she had all the time in the world. The way she had whispered against your skin, teasing but sincere. The way she had looked at you afterward, something soft and open in her eyes that made you want to run.

And so you did.

With a deep breath, you started the engine and pulled out of the lot, the cold morning air doing little to cool the heat still simmering under your skin.

You didn't know if you regretted it. But you did know that facing Olivia was going to be a whole different problem.

You took another step into the room, your heart pounding in your chest like a ticking clock counting down to an inevitable explosion.

Olivia sat on the edge of your bed, her posture rigid, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles had turned white. She was staring straight at you, her dark eyes burning with something unreadable—something controlled, but barely.

The air between you felt thick, suffocating. Then, finally, she spoke. "Where you been?" Her voice was quiet, but sharp—like a knife wrapped in silk.

Your throat tightened. She already knew. There was no way she didn't. But she wanted to hear it from you. Wanted to watch you squirm under the weight of your own admission.

You inhaled slowly, forcing your shoulders to stay loose. "Out."

A sharp scoff left her lips, her head tilting slightly as she studied you. She looked almost amused, like she couldn't believe you had the audacity to play this game. "Out," she repeated, rolling the word on her tongue like it disgusted her.

Your stomach twisted.

She let the silence hang between you before standing, slow and deliberate, closing some of the distance. The tension in her frame was palpable—like a coil wound too tight, ready to snap.

"So, who were you 'out' with?" she asked, her voice deceptively even.

You swallowed. "Liv—"

"Nah, say it." Her brows knitted challengingly, her fingers flexing at her sides. "Say her name."

You held her stare, unwilling to look away, but you didn't answer.

The muscle in Olivia's jaw ticked, and suddenly, she was chuckling—low and bitter, the kind that wasn't really laughter at all.

"You know, I sat here and waited for you," she said, shaking her head. "Gave you the benefit of the doubt. Thought maybe—just maybe—you'd come back here and at least be honest with me." Her voice wavered slightly, just for a second, before she forced herself to steel it again. "But nah. You just walk in here with that look on your face—like you don't feel even a little bad about it."

Your brows furrowed, frustration creeping into your veins. "What exactly am I supposed to feel bad about?"

Olivia's nostrils flared. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am," you shot back, voice rising. "We're not even together, Olivia."

Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to argue, but she hesitated. Then, as if snapping back into place, her expression hardened, her eyes scanning over you—taking in the mess of your hair, the faded smudges of Paige's touch along your neck. Her fingers curled into fists.

"I bet she loved that, huh?" she said, voice thick with something dangerous. "That you 'love it over there'?" She quoted.

You sucked in a sharp breath, something twisting painfully in your chest. "Don't do that."

"We can fix this."

You blinked. "What?"

"We can still work this out," she said, gaze flickering between your eyes like she was searching for something—anything—to hold on to. "I know we can."

Your stomach churned again. This was the moment you should feel relief, right? This was what you had wanted for so long—for Olivia to finally let down her walls, to finally stop running from you.

So why did it feel like something in you was pulling away instead?

"As long as you promise to never see her again."

Your breath caught in your throat. You weren't even sure you wanted to make things work with Olivia anymore. The constant back and forth, the push and pull—it exhausted you. But the thought of never seeing Paige again, never hearing her voice, never seeing the sparkle in her eyes, never feeling her touch—

It struck you like a blow to the chest.

And Olivia saw it.

She saw the flicker of hesitation in your eyes, the way your lips parted but no words came out. For the first time all night, she looked afraid.

Olivia stood still for a moment, her face a mask of mixed emotions—anger, hurt, and disbelief. You could see her struggling to reconcile what was happening, but she didn't say anything. She just watched you, the silence between you both thick, suffocating.

Then, without warning, she took a step toward you.

You didn't back away. Your feet felt like they were rooted to the floor as she came closer, and before you could think, her hands were gently cupping your face, her fingers warm against your skin, tracing the contours of your jaw. Her touch was careful, almost hesitant—as though she was afraid you might slip away if she wasn't careful enough.

Her gaze locked onto yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you couldn't look away. There was a vulnerability in her eyes you hadn't seen before, a desperate plea hidden behind the walls she'd built up.

"Please," she whispered, the word catching in her throat. "Don't walk away from me like this. We can fix it, baby, we can make it work—I swear. Just... don't do this."

You didn't respond right away, your heart pounding in your chest. There was a burning ache in your chest, and the way her hands trembled ever so slightly as she held your face only made it harder.

Slowly, Olivia leaned in, pressing soft kisses to your face—your forehead, the tip of your nose, your cheek—her lips lingering in places that felt too intimate for everything that had happened. The closeness, the familiarity, felt like an anchor, pulling you back into the past, to all the moments when things had been simpler, when you hadn't known the weight of this choice.

She kissed you again, more desperately this time, her lips brushing over your mouth, a soft, lingering press that left you breathless.

But you couldn't do it. Not again.

You pulled back slightly, your hands coming up to gently push hers away, feeling a pang of sadness when she didn't resist. Olivia sighed, her eyes a little misty, but she didn't argue, didn't try to force you to stay. Instead, she stepped back, running a hand over her hair, frustration clear in the tightness of her jaw.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice breaking just enough for you to hear it. "I don't want it to end like this."

For a moment, you just stood there, watching her, unsure what to say. The pain of the situation—the rawness of everything—was too much, too overwhelming. The world outside your apartment seemed to fade away, and in that small, quiet space, it felt like the last thread of something between you was finally unraveling.

"I'm sorry too, Liv," you said quietly, your voice barely a whisper. "But this shit isn't healthy and we both gotta let it go."

With a heavy, final breath, Olivia nodded, stepping back one last time. The door closed behind her softly, leaving you standing in the silence of your own thoughts, your chest aching in the emptiness she left behind.

And so you stood there in the quiet of your room, chest heavy and heart torn, wondering if you'd made the right choice. The weight of it all pressed down on you, the end of something that was never really meant to be, and yet still felt like a loss.

You sank down onto your bed, your body aching with the exhaustion of the emotional turmoil. But despite the emptiness in your chest, despite the tears you could feel threatening to spill, there was a sense of clarity.

Over the next few days, you couldn't stop thinking about her. Paige was everywhere. Every corner of your mind, every inch of your body seemed to ache with the memory of her. Her hair—so perfectly tousled, blonde strands framing her face just right. The way it smelled, like a mix of fresh shampoo and something more intoxicating, like the scent of the air just before it rains. You could still feel the warmth of her touch, the way her fingertips had tingled against your skin, the nails pressing into your back, sending electricity shooting through you.

Her eyes. Those damn baby blue eyes. No matter where you searched, you had never seen anything like them before—bright, curious, yet so dark and hungry. Every glance felt like she was peering into the very depths of you, knowing things about you you hadn't even realized yet. And the way her gaze softened one moment, only to turn intense the next. You could still feel the weight of it, even now, as if it was still following you around.

The image of her—the girl you'd walked out on more than once—was imprinted in your mind, and there was no way to escape it. She had been on your mind since you'd left her hotel room, and now it was starting to feel like you had made a terrible mistake all over again. Regret was seeping into your thoughts. The way you'd left, without a single word, no text, no call—it felt like a betrayal now. You had walked out on her, and now the guilt gnawed at you every waking moment. She hadn't reached out either. You figured that she simply didn't care much—after all, it was just a casual thing, right? But the more you thought about it, the more it felt like self-sabotage. Something you were a pro at.

Even in practice, it was all you could think about. Every shot you tried to make, every pass, every dribble felt off. Your mind was miles away, far from the court, lost in thoughts of her. Your teammates were noticing too, whispering to each other in hushed voices as they glanced your way. You tried to focus, to shake the thoughts of Paige out of your head, but it felt impossible.

Then, when you finally had a moment to yourself and picked up your phone, the universe seemed to taunt you. Your social media feeds were flooded with pictures and videos of her—Paige smiling at some event, making a joke on a court, laughing with her teammates, several sports channels posting about her. Your heart twisted each time you saw her face, the way she glowed on screen. A pang of jealousy hit you too. How could she be out there, living her life, so effortlessly happy, when all you could think about was her?

You found yourself scrolling through her pages again and again, watching her smile, seeing her live her life without you in it. It was like an ache you couldn't ignore like you had been doing for so long. How did you walk away from someone like her?

It made sense in your head and despite that, you couldn't stop wondering if she even cared about you at all—if she'd cared about any of it. That was the worst part—because now, all you could think about was how to fix it and you had no idea if it was even worth it.

It had been a week. A week of silence, of uncertainty, of trying to push past the thoughts that refused to leave your head. No matter how much you tried to focus on basketball, on your life outside of Paige, you just couldn't shake her.

She was everywhere, in everything. In the music playing through your headphones, in the scent of someone's perfume as they walked past you on campus, in the depth of your camera roll, in the way your phone screen felt too empty without her name lighting it up.

And now, finally, you were willing to do something about it.

You stared at your phone, fingers hesitating over the screen before finally tapping her name. You nibbled on your bottom lip, heart pounded in your chest as the call attempted to go through. But the line didn't even ring—it went straight to voicemail.

You frowned, confusion settling in as you opened her contact and tried again. Straight to voicemail.

A sinking feeling grew in your stomach as you switched to text.

You: can we talk?

The message never sent. Instead, a small red exclamation mark appeared next to it, accompanied by the gut-wrenching realization: Message Not Delivered.

Blocked.

You blinked at the screen with parted lips as if willing it to change, as if there had been some mistake. But no—Paige had cut you off completely.

A heavy weight settled in your chest, defeat washing over you like ice-cold water. For a moment, you sat there, gripping your phone tightly, fingers twitching as if you could somehow undo the damage that had already been done.

She was actually done with you this time.

The thought burned—made you wanna throw up and for a second, you considered giving up. Maybe this was what you deserved for walking out on her, for leaving without a single word. But the thing about you—when you wanted something, when you cared about something—you didn't just let it slip through your fingers.

So, you tried a different route.

It wasn't hard to figure out her schedule—after all, UConn's games were public, and you knew Paige well enough to remember or at least guess how her daily routine went. The real challenge was finding the right opportunity, the perfect timing that didn't interfere with your own demanding schedule.

And when you finally found the opening, you made your decision. You impulsively booked a flight to Storrs, Connecticut.

The moment the confirmation email hit your inbox, nerves slammed into you full force. The idea of showing up unannounced, of seeing Paige after all this time—after she had clearly chosen to cut you out—was enough to make your stomach twist.

Would she even listen to you? You didn't know. But after everything, the least she deserved was a face-to-face apology.

Before making the trip, you reached out to someone you knew you could trust. Someone who had been there since the very beginning.

You: Aubs, I kinda need your help.

The response was almost immediate.

AubDawg: With what?

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing out exactly what you needed to say.

You: I need to see Paige. Like I really need to talk to her.

Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared again.

AubDawg: You realize she's mad at you, right?

You swallowed hard. Of course you knew. You had felt the weight of it every single day.

You: I know. That's why I need to do it in person.

The pause this time was longer. A minute passed. Then another.

Then finally—

AubDawg: Fine. But I'm not promising anything.

The plan was simple.

You'd fly in, keep your presence quiet, and attend one of UConn's home games disguised—or at least, as discreet as possible. A hat, a hoodie, glasses, something to keep you hidden in the crowd. You just needed to see her, to get through to her somehow.

The anxiety built up as you boarded the flight, as you landed in Connecticut, as you made your way to the campus you were all too familiar with.

It felt surreal, being back here. Walking past familiar buildings, recognizing places where you had spent hours practicing, laughing, learning. Memories surfaced with every step, each one pressing into your chest like an old ache.

You tried not to focus on that.

Aubrey met you at the arena just before the game, her arms crossed as she gave you a look that was somewhere between exasperation and reluctant amusement.

"You're insane," she muttered.

You smirked, pulling the brim of your hat lower over your face. "Call it insanity, call it dedication. Same thing."

She sighed. "You sure about this?"

"Nope,” you admitted, popping your ‘p’, “But I guess there’s not much to lose if I don’t try.

Aubrey studied you for a moment before shaking her head. "C’mon. I got you a seat where you won't get caught."

Your stomach twisted as you followed her inside.

You weren't sure how this was going to go. You weren't sure if Paige would even give you the time of day.

The energy inside Gampel Pavilion was electric. The air buzzed with cheers, the pounding of basketballs against hardwood, the screech of sneakers cutting across the court. UConn was locked in a battle, but you weren't paying attention to the score.

Your eyes were locked on one person.

She was poetry in motion, every movement sharp and precise, every shot falling effortlessly. Even from your seat—hidden beneath the brim of your cap, swallowed in a hoodie pulled high around your face and through your glasses—you could see the fire in her eyes.

She played with a vengeance. And you had a sick feeling in your stomach that you were part of the reason why.

You watched as she drained a three-pointer, barely flinching as the crowd erupted. Watched the way her jaw clenched, the way her muscles tensed with an unspoken frustration.

She was mad. Not just at the opposing team. Not just at the game.

But at you.

Your fingers curled into fists inside your hoodie pocket. Had she always looked this good when she played? Or were you just now letting yourself see her again?

The final buzzer sounded. UConn had won, but Paige hardly looked satisfied as she stormed off the court, towel draped over her shoulders, sweat glistening under the bright lights. She barely celebrated with her team, barely acknowledged the noise around her.

And now came the hardest part.

Getting to her.

You waited. Let the crowd thin out, let the team disappear into the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. Aubrey had already told you to meet her at one of the back exits, where the players sometimes slipped out after games.

You pulled your hoodie tighter around you, moving swiftly through the hallways that you had once walked. Some things never changed— bound to stay the same as they’ve always been.

"What are you doing here?"

Her voice stopped you cold.

Paige stood just outside the exit, her duffle bag slung over one shoulder, her body still humming with adrenaline. She was fresh out of the locker room, her damp blonde hair pushed back, her skin flushed from the game.

She looked pissed and your heart lurched.

You took a cautious step forward. "Paige, I—"

"No." She held up a hand, her jaw tight. "You don't get to just show up here like this."

Your mouth went dry.

She scoffed, shaking her head as she took you in—your face, your posture, the nervous tension rolling off of you.

"Unbelievable," she muttered.

"I had to talk to you," you said quickly, voice almost breathless.

Paige let out a bitter laugh. "Had to talk to me?" She took a step closer, and you caught the flicker of something beneath her anger—hurt. "You disappear for almost weeks. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing. And now, suddenly, you have something to say?"

You swallowed hard. "I was scared, okay?" you replied, a subtle crack in your voice. "I—"

Paige let out a sharp breath, running a hand through her hair. "Scared of what, exactly?"

Of you. Of what this could be. Of feeling something real. Of the past.

You struggled to find the words, but Paige shook her head.

"Nah. You don't get to come here and give me half-assed answers," she snapped. "You don't get to just waltz back into my life after—" She exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. "Do you have any idea how much it fucking sucked to wake up and realize you were gone again? To realize I was stupid enough to actually think..."

She trailed off, lips pressing together like she couldn't let herself finish. Guilt churned inside you.

"I fucked up," you admitted, voice softer now. "Big time. I know I did. And I don't expect you to forgive me just because I flew here. But I just needed to see you. I needed you to know that I regret it. All of it."

Paige's eyes searched yours, stormy and unreadable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then she let out a bitter chuckle, shaking her head. "You really think you can just show up, say sorry, and I'll just—what? Act like it never happened?"

You stiffened at her words, but before you could respond, she continued.

"I'm not doing this again," she muttered, adjusting her duffle bag over her shoulder. "I'm not letting you back in just so you can run the second shit gets too real."

You felt a pang in your chest. "Paige—"

"Nah," she cut you off, eyes flashing. "You don't get to 'Paige' me right now."

Your lips parted, but nothing came out. For the first time since you arrived, you wondered if this had been a mistake.

Paige exhaled sharply, glancing away for a moment before shaking her head, almost to herself. When she looked back at you, there was something raw in her expression, something you hadn't seen before.

"Go home," she said quietly.

And just like that, she walked past you, disappearing into the night. Leaving you standing there, feeling more lost than ever.

july 27th 2021

The room felt emptier than it should.

Your half of the dorm had been stripped down to the essentials—no posters, no clothes spilling out of drawers, no sneakers tossed lazily near the door. Just a few boxes stacked near the bed, waiting to be carried out.

You were crouched in front of your dresser, grabbing the last of your things, when you heard the door open.

You didn’t have to look to know it was Paige.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, watching as you packed away the final remnants of your life at UConn.

“You’re actually leaving.” Her voice was even, but you caught the slight edge underneath it.

You huffed a quiet laugh, stuffing a hoodie into the last box. “Well, yeah. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, I know.” Paige crossed the room, dropping onto her bed, elbows resting on her knees. “Doesn’t make it any less shitty.”

You sighed, pushing yourself up to sit on the edge of your own bed. For the first time that night, you looked at her.

She looked… frustrated. Sad, maybe. But mostly frustrated.

“So… Notre Dame, huh?” she muttered, thrumming her fingers against her knee.

You nodded. “They want me.”

Paige’s jaw tensed. “UConn wanted you.” ‘I want you’ , but she doesn’t say that

You exhaled sharply. “UConn wants you. You’re the star.” Your voice held no venom, not a trace of envy.

Paige’s gaze snapped up, something flickering in her blue eyes.

“You know that’s not why I’m leaving,” you said, voice softer now, less defensive. “It’s not about you.”

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. “Feels like it.”

That caught you off guard.

You stared at her, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

It had always been complicated with Paige—this thing between you, this unspoken something that neither of you were ever brave enough to name. Maybe it was easier that way. Or maybe it was just safer.

You swallowed. “Paige—”

“Don’t.” She leaned back on her hands, tilting her head toward the ceiling like she was trying to keep her emotions in check. “You already made up your mind.”

Silence settled between you again. The worst part? She was right.

You were leaving. And she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

You sighed and stood up, grabbing the last few things off your desk. When you turned, Paige was already up, crossing the room to the half-filled box by your bed.

She didn’t say anything—just started gathering loose items and placing them inside.

You watched her for a second. There was no irritation in her movements, no unnecessary force. Just quiet resignation.

You didn’t stop her.

For the next few minutes, neither of you spoke. The room was filled with nothing but the occasional rustle of packing and the weight of everything left unsaid.

Eventually, Paige picked up a framed photo from your nightstand—the two of you from freshman year, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, grinning after a big win.

Her thumb brushed over the glass. “You taking this?”

You hesitated, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know yet.”

She nodded once, then set it gently inside the box.

And that was that. No more arguing. No more trying to change your mind. Just Paige, quietly helping you pack up your life—piece by piece, moment by moment.

taglist (if you’d like to be removed from the series taglist LMK i promise i won’t be offended!) @brenwritesss @bueckersbitch @starlighttsv @ekisokay @st4rrzynight @tndaqlwifwy @ohmybueckers @yailtsv @omg-imtumbling @xxloveralways14 @cowboylikeavaa @prettygirl-gabi @itsstavy13 @kaelaheartsyou @jnkbueckers @shootingstarrrrr @melpthatsme @sierrale8ne @unadulteratedcyclepaper @janessabaker @rosemariiaa

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 2

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦,"

summary: as time progressed, Joel notice something's wrong and then at one night, You stood at his door, looking disheveled and distressed, your face streaked with tears and your clothes rumpled. 

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 2

masterlist of the series!

previous | chapter one

next | chapter three

Saturday arrived with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake. The dinner invitation at Tommy and Maria's hung over your head like a dark cloud. Joel had decided to come, partly due to Ellie and Tommy's insistence, and also because it was a chance to catch up with your family, the Gibsons.

The aftermath of last Sunday's beating from your father for abandoning your duty at church service had left you changed. The light in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a quiet resilience. Your body was still sore, the bruises and scars not fully healed, making even the simplest movements painful.

You worried some of the wounds might be infected, as you had been running a high fever and coughing for days. Your mother was concerned but too scared to take you to the hospital. In this small town, everyone knew each other, and a trip to the doctor would raise questions. Your family's reputation, especially with your father being the town preacher, was paramount. So, your mother did her best to care for you at home, but it wasn't enough.

You still went to school, hiding your condition under oversized sweaters. You had no close friends, just a few acquaintances, but you were well-known as one of the prettiest girls and the preacher's daughter. Boys liked you, always trying to get close, but you kept your distance. One day at school, Ellie noticed you didn't look well and asked if you were sick. You lied, saying you were fine.

"You sure? You don't look so good," Ellie said, her eyes filled with concern.

"I'm fine, Ellie, really. Just tired from studying for finals," you replied, forcing a smile.

Ellie frowned, clearly unconvinced. "If you say so. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will," you promised, though you weren't sure if it was a promise you could keep.

As one of the smartest students, your teachers noticed your decline and sent you to the school's psychologist. The psychologist observed your physical and mental changes, but you lied again, blaming sleepless nights spent preparing for graduation.

As your family prepared to go to the Millers, you told your mother you might not be able to go because your body was still sore. The scars hadn't healed, and you worried about infection. You'd had a high fever for days.

"Mama, I don't think I can go tonight. My body still hurts so much," you said, your voice weak.

Your mother, worried but too afraid to confront your father, insisted you come. "You know your father will be angry if you don't come. It's better if you come, even if you're not feeling well," she said, her voice trembling.

Reluctantly, you agreed. For the first time in a while, you applied makeup to cover the bruises on your skin, arms, and the corners of your eyes and cheeks. Your father reminded you to behave, to maintain decorum as a preacher's daughter, and not to embarrass him.

"Remember, you represent this family. Behave yourself and don't cause any trouble," your father said sternly.

"Yes, Father," you replied, obedient as always, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. The weight of his expectations bore down on you, threatening to crush the fragile strength you had left.

At Tommy and Maria's house, Joel and Ellie were already there. Your family arrived at their front door, your mother's grip on the pasta dish tightening as if it were a lifeline.

Maria opened the door with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of your family. "Oh, Evelyn! Father Gibson! It's so good to see you all. Come in, come in!"

Your mother returned the smile, albeit a bit strained. "Thank you, Maria. We brought some pasta for adding some to the dishes."

"Oh, Evelyn, this pasta looks amazing. Thank you so much," Maria said, taking the dish and placing a gentle hand on your mother's arm. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," your mother replied, her voice soft. "It's the least we could do."

Maria led you all inside, the house filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. You stepped in and immediately met Ellie.

"Hey, how are you? You didn't look so good at school the other day," she said, her voice full of concern.

"I'm okay, just a bit under the weather," you lied, trying to sound convincing.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ellie asked again, her eyes narrowing with worry. "You really didn't look well. Are you getting enough rest?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying for finals."

Ellie wasn't convinced but nodded. "Alright, but if you need anything, just let me know, okay? We can study together if that helps."

"Thank you, Ellie. I appreciate it," you said, grateful for her concern but knowing you had to keep your secrets hidden.

Maria, finishing her conversation with your mother, turned her attention to you. "Sweetheart, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling alright?"

In front of your parents, you forced another smile. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired," you said, your voice steady but hollow.

Your mother quickly added to the lie, her voice filled with false cheerfulness. "Oh, you know Maria. She's almost graduate and been working so hard on her studies. It's just stress, really, right honey?" You nodded to your mother.

Your father, ever the manipulator, chimed in with a practiced smile. "She's fine, just been studying hard for her finals. Nothing to worry about."

Maria looked unconvinced but didn't press further. It was just another sad reminder of the facade your family maintained, the preacher's household hiding its cracks beneath a veneer of perfection.

You moved further into the house, your father's charm offensive continuing as he greeted Tommy. "Tommy, good to see you! How's everything going?"

"Going well, Tony. Just keeping busy with the business and this little guy," Tommy said, gesturing to his newborn son, Luke.

"He's adorable," you said, managing a genuine smile as you looked at the baby. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders lightened.

"Thank you," Tommy said proudly. "He's a handful, but we're loving every minute."

As you continued to mingle, you felt Joel's eyes on you. He was helping Tommy with the food, but his concern was palpable. He approached you, his expression serious.

You smiled at Joel, remembering the last time you interacted with him by the lake. That memory was a rare bright spot amidst the pain your father had caused after it.

"Hey, Joel. Good to see you here," you said, wondering why he decided to come. You tried to lighten the mood, despite the pain radiating through your body with every movement. The fabric of your clothes rubbed against your skin, irritating the unhealed scars, but you did your best to endure it.

"Ellie and Tommy wouldn't take no for an answer," Joel replied, his tone a mix of annoyance and warmth.

You chuckled softly, though the motion sent a sharp pain through your ribs. "They can be pretty persuasive."

Joel's eyes softened slightly, but his concern remained. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying. It's near my graduation, and I have to prepare for the finals."

Joel's eyes lingered on you, taking in the pallor of your skin and the dark circles under your eyes. "You look sick. Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his concern. Joel was a man of few words, often letting his actions speak for him. His gruff exterior hid a deeply protective nature, one that he rarely showed to anyone. "I'm okay, really. Just a bit run down," you replied, trying to sound convincing.

Joel frowned, clearly not convinced, but he decided to lighten the mood. "So, how's school going? When are the big finals?"

You forced a smile, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, finals are coming up. Lots of studying and late nights."

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "I remember those days. Ellie gives me a hard time about studying too. But she's a smart kid, just like you."

"Thanks, Joel," you said softly, appreciating his attempt to comfort you. You cracked a small joke, trying to lighten the mood. "I just hope I don't end up like a zombie by the end of it."

Joel chuckled, though his eyes remained serious. He noticed how you occasionally winced and shifted your weight, clearly in pain. "You sure everything's okay at home?" he asked gently.

"Everything's great," you lied, remembering your father's stern warning. "Just the usual stress of school and stuff."

Joel's concern deepened, but he didn't push further. But before Joel could probe further, your father suddenly joined the conversation, his presence commanding attention.

"Joel, good to see you," he said with a broad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What are you two talking about?"

Joel straightened, his demeanor shifting. "Just catching up, Reverend."

Your father chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Joel, we’re at dinner. Call me Tony. We’re friends, remember?"

"Sure, Tony," Joel said, though the familiarity felt forced.

"How's the construction business going, Joel?" your father asked, his tone amiable.

"Busy as always," Joel replied, his eyes drifting back to you occasionally. "But it's good. Keeps me occupied."

Your father nodded, pretending to be interested. "That's great to hear. We should get together sometime, reminisce about the old days."

Joel's gaze met yours briefly, and you felt a flutter of something in your chest. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said, his voice lacking enthusiasm but polite nonetheless.

As they continued to talk, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, feeling a strange sense of longing. His concern was genuine, unlike the superficial care your father displayed. It made you yearn for something more, something real.

Joel's eyes met yours again, and for a moment, it felt like he could see everything you were hiding. His concern was like a warm blanket on a cold night, a small comfort in the midst of your storm. You smiled at him, a silent thank you for his kindness, and he returned the gesture with a slight nod.

"You remember the time we went fishing at the lake, Joel?" your father said, trying to sound nostalgic. "We caught that huge bass, and you almost fell in trying to reel it in."

Joel smiled, though it was a shadow of his usual warmth. "Yeah, I remember. Good times."

You watched the exchange, feeling a pang of longing. Joel's presence was a reminder of what you were missing – genuine care and concern, something your father could never provide.

As dinner progressed, everyone was making conversations and catching up. You remained silent, but to avoid suspicion, you occasionally joined in, talking to Ellie and responding when someone addressed you. Joel observed quietly, speaking only when necessary or when someone engaged him directly. His occasional glances toward you felt like anchors, ensuring you didn’t drift too far into the depths of your own discomfort.

When it was time to sit down for the meal, you ended up seated across from Joel. Your father, ever the sociable one, continued to dominate the conversation, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. You picked at your food, the pain in your body making it hard to eat.

Joel noticed your discomfort, his eyes filled with quiet concern. He whispered after you shifted uncomfortably for the umpteenth time, "You sure you're okay?" this time in a whisper so your father wouldn’t hear.

You forced another smile. "I'm fine, Joel. Just tired."

He didn't look convinced, but he let it go, respecting your space. His presence, though, was a constant reminder that someone cared, even if you couldn't fully accept it.

The conversation flowed around you, snippets of dialogue filling the air.

"So, Ellie," your mother said, smiling warmly, "how's school treating you?"

"It's good, Mrs. Gibson. A lot of work, but I'm managing," Ellie replied, glancing at you with a reassuring smile.

Your father, ever the charming host, turned to Tommy. "And how's the construction business? Keeping you busy, I hope?"

Tommy laughed. "Busy doesn't even begin to cover it. We're swamped, but that's a good problem to have."

Joel's eyes flicked back to you as you winced slightly, shifting in your seat. He could see the struggle in your movements, the way you tried to hide your pain. His gaze softened, but he remained silent, respecting your space.

Tommy, clearly enjoying the topic, continued with enthusiasm. "We’re working on this big project downtown. It’s a major redevelopment of an old warehouse into luxury apartments. It's been a challenge, but it’s rewarding. We’re talking high-end finishes, state-of-the-art amenities. It’s a bit of a tightrope walk between maintaining the budget and meeting the client’s vision."

Your father, clearly interested, responded with a knowing nod. "Sounds like a big undertaking. How’s the team handling the pressure?"

Tommy grinned. "We’ve got a solid crew, but it’s been intense. Lots of late nights and early mornings. Joel’s seen the stress firsthand. He’s been around to lend a hand whenever things get tight."

Tommy’s gaze turned to Joel, as if inviting him to elaborate. "Right, Joel? You’ve had your fair share of those late nights, haven’t you?"

Joel nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, late nights and long days. It’s all part of the job. We keep pushing through because, in the end, it’s worth it."

Your father leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "You’ve been in the business a long time, Joel. What’s been the biggest challenge for you lately?"

Joel paused for a moment, thinking. "The biggest challenge is always adapting to new demands. Clients want more, and sometimes it feels like we’re racing against the clock. But we get it done."

Tommy, sensing an opportunity to keep the conversation lively, added, "Joel’s been great about handling the unexpected. I remember one time we had a major issue with a contractor, and Joel stepped in and saved the day."

Joel’s expression remained neutral, but there was a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes for Tommy’s support. "Just doing what needs to be done," he said.

Your mother’s voice was bright and enthusiastic as she shifted the topic. "Tommy, Maria, how’s little Luke doing? I can't believe how quickly he's growing."

Maria’s face lit up with pride. "He’s amazing. It’s been an adjustment, but we’re loving every moment of it. He’s starting to smile more, and it's just the sweetest thing."

Your mother nodded approvingly, her smile wide. "Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s such a joy to watch them grow. We’ve always said that parenting is the most rewarding experience."

The words felt like a raw wound being picked at, each one a reminder of the dissonance between their image of perfect parenting and your own reality. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the sharp pangs of pain that only seemed to intensify with every sugary comment.

Your father, ever the performer, joined in with his own brand of parental wisdom. "Yes, it’s true. Parenting brings out the best in you. It's about guiding them, teaching them right from wrong, and showing them how to navigate the world."

Tommy, clearly enjoying the turn of conversation, added, "Absolutely. We’ve had our challenges, but it’s worth it to see Luke grow and thrive. Every milestone is a victory."

Your mother leaned in with an air of authority. "And don’t forget the importance of structure and discipline. It’s all about finding that balance and being consistent. We always said that’s key to raising well-rounded children."

As the conversation continued, your parents spoke in glowing terms about their parenting philosophy, each statement reinforcing the image of perfection they projected. The more they spoke, the more you felt the weight of their insincerity.

The pain you were trying to suppress seemed to magnify with every word. You gripped your fork tighter, the effort making your knuckles white. You wanted to scream at the facade, the false sense of superiority they exuded while completely ignoring the reality of your struggles.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to you repeatedly, his concern growing more evident with each shift in your posture. He watched as you tried to mask your discomfort, his gaze softening as he saw the strain on your face.

Maria, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your demeanor as well. "Everything alright, sweetheart?" she asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You forced another smile, though it felt like a mask slipping off. "Just a bit tired, Maria. Nothing to worry about."

Maria didn’t press further but her gaze remained concerned. She glanced at Joel, who gave a subtle nod, acknowledging her unspoken question. Joel’s eyes continued to linger on you, the concern etched deeply into his expression.

As the conversation shifted to a more religious tone, your father, ever the preacher, began to elaborate on his views. His voice took on that familiar, reverent cadence. "Children are a gift from God," he said, his eyes sweeping over the table as if to bless it with his words. "They are entrusted to us to guide, nurture, and instill the values that will shape their futures. It's a sacred duty, one that brings us closer to our faith and to each other."

He continued, the fervor in his voice rising, "The Bible teaches us that we are stewards of these precious souls. Our responsibility is not just to provide for their physical needs, but to mold their character, teach them right from wrong, and guide them in the ways of the Lord."

The words, so full of sanctimonious zeal, felt like a punch to your gut. Each statement was a cruel reminder of the gap between his idealized view of parenting and the harsh reality of your own life. You could feel your discomfort intensify, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

Joel’s gaze shifted between your father’s preachy sermon and your growing distress. His brow furrowed, sensing the tension in the room. He saw you clutching your stomach, your face growing pale. Maria’s concern mirrored his as she glanced at you, her eyes filled with empathy.

Feeling trapped, you struggled to maintain composure, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white. The facade of your father's perfect parenting began to feel like a cruel joke, and the more he spoke, the harder it became to stay seated.

Finally, unable to endure any more, you excused yourself. "Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," you said, standing up quickly. Your voice was strained, but you tried to keep it steady.

Your father’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a coldness in his eyes that made you shiver. "Sit down, dear. It’s not polite to excuse yourself while others are speaking. We’re all here to enjoy each other’s company." The reprimand felt like a vise tightening around you.

You glanced around the table, feeling the pressure of everyone’s gaze. "I really need to go," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to hold your ground.

Your father’s smile turned colder, and the sharpness in his tone cut through the tension. "If you must go," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if warning you not to embarrass him further. "But do you know where the bathroom is? Don't want to bother Tommy and Maria, they are still eating,"

Before you or Tommy an Maria could respond, Joel’s voice cut in, low and steady. "I can show her where it is. I’m finished eating, so I can walk her there."

Your father’s eyes flicked to Joel, his expression softening slightly in a forced show of graciousness. "Thank you, Joel."

You nodded gratefully, feeling a small measure of relief as you met Joel’s concerned gaze. He stood up, his movements deliberate and calm. Maria was occupied with Evelyn, and Ellie was still eating, leaving Joel as the most suitable candidate to help you.

Joel approached you quietly, his demeanor gentle as he offered a reassuring smile. "Come on, I'll show you the way."

You nodded, standing up with a sense of cautious relief. As you walked toward the hallway with Joel, you could feel the weight of the conversation still hanging over you. Joel’s presence was a quiet comfort, his concern a stark contrast to the harshness of your father’s demeanor.

As you made your way down the hall, Joel glanced at you, his eyes filled with genuine worry. "You feeling okay, kid?"

You managed a small, appreciative smile. "I'm good, thanks, Joel."

He gave a reassuring nod as you approached the bathroom door. "I’ll be right here if you need anything. Just take your time."

As you stepped inside the bathroom, the coolness of the tile against your skin was a brief respite from the tension. You leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The solitude offered a momentary escape from the scrutiny and discomfort you’d felt at the table.

With trembling hands, you slowly opened your dress to check the scars, the ones that had been worsening over the past few days. The sight of them made your heart sink further. They were inflamed, bruised, and itching painfully. You traced the edges with your fingertips, and the pain was sharp and immediate. A stifled hiss escaped your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. The physical agony was overwhelming, but it was compounded by the emotional turmoil of the evening.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the pain made it difficult. Your fingers brushed the scars again, and a small, anguished cry escaped you. The pain was almost unbearable, and you felt the tears streaming down your face uncontrollably.

From outside the door, Joel’s voice cut through the quiet. "Kid, is everything alright in there?"

His voice, tinged with concern, snapped you back to reality. You quickly wiped your tears, trying to compose yourself. "I’m fine, Joel. Just... give me a minute."

There was a moment of silence before Joel spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "If something’s wrong, you can tell me. I’m here to help."

You hesitated, the pain and fear making it hard to respond. "I... it’s just—it's nothing serious. I’ll be out in a second."

After a few deep breaths and a final check, you composed yourself as best as you could. You pulled your dress back into place, the physical discomfort still sharp but slightly more manageable. You wiped away the remaining tears, trying to regain your composure.

Opening the bathroom door, you found Joel still standing there, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and patience. You offered him a shaky smile, hoping to convey that you were alright. "Thanks for waiting."

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his concern deepening as he took in the faint tremble in your hands and the redness in your eyes. "You okay, kid?"

You nodded and smiled, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

Joel didn't respond immediately, his eyes searching yours for the truth. “You sure? You look...like you're in pain."

Your smile faltered, and you looked down, unable to maintain the facade under his steady gaze. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, trying to deflect. “Just...school stress."

Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, but he decided not to push further. "Alright, if you say so. Let’s get back to dinner.”

You both returned to the dining room, where the atmosphere had lightened considerably. The meal continued with lively conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the warm glow of shared company.

After dinner, your mom joined Maria in the kitchen to help with the dishes, their laughter and chatter floating through the house. Outside, your father, Tommy, and Joel settled on the backyard porch, their conversation punctuated by the occasional sound of a beer bottle opening or the murmur of crickets.

You found yourself in the living room with Ellie, who was scrolling through her phone while little Luke slept peacefully on the couch. You took a seat next to her, and she looked up, smiling.

"Hey," you said, leaning back into the cushions. "How's school been for you?"

Ellie shrugged, putting her phone down. "It's alright, I guess. Same old stuff. How about you? Finals must be tough, huh?"

"Yeah, they are," you admitted. "But it's almost over. Just a few more months, and then we're done."

Ellie grinned. "Bet you can't wait to get out of here."

You laughed softly. "Yeah, it's definitely time for a change. How about you? Any plans after high school?"

"Maybe college, if I can figure out what I want to do," Ellie replied. "So...Tell me, are there any boys at school you've got your eye on?" She tease giving you a smirk.

You blushed, shaking your head. "No, not really."

Ellie rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows you're like the most popular girl in school. The boys are all over you."

You sighed, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation. "I can't say I'm like that and it's not quite like that. They're just...curious, I guess."

"Curious about what?" Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow.

You hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know, it seems like they're curious about me."

Ellie then brought up what she saw a week ago. "So...don't want to be nosy, but I saw you with Jamie the other day. Is he the one?" She gave you a smirk, clearly enjoying teasing you.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "No, he's just a friend."

"Come on, you can tell me," Ellie insisted, nudging you playfully.

You blushed and tried to deflect, but Ellie wasn't letting up. "Stop, Ellie. It was nothing."

Ellie grinned, leaning in closer. "Okay, but don't tell anyone. Jamie's been trying to get close to me. It's been going on for two months now. We’ve gone out a few times. He’s kissed me, but it hasn’t gone beyond that."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, looking more serious. “And he’s asking for more, isn’t he?”

You nodded, feeling a knot of confusion and frustration in your chest. “Yeah. He keeps bringing up sex, but I’ve told him I’m not ready. He said he’d wait, but he keeps asking. I don’t know what to do.”

Ellie leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “Jamie’s the captain of the football team, right? Popular, blonde, not too smart?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” you confirmed, sighing. “He’s nice, but this pressure... I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Ellie nodded understandingly. “You shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything you’re not ready for. If Jamie really cares about you, he’ll respect your boundaries. And if he doesn’t, then he’s not worth it.”

You sighed again, the weight of your father's teachings pressing down on you. "But... I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed if I don’t do what he wants. Jamie is nice and polite. His family has giving our church a lot...he also giving me a lot of nice stuff, like dress, necklace and all. My dad always said if someone’s nice to you, you should be nice back. And always obey men because they’re higher in status than women."

Ellie’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Who told you that?"

You shrugged, feeling a bit defensive. "My father."

Ellie shook her head, her expression turning serious. "That’s...kinda messed up. Just because someone’s nice doesn’t mean you owe them anything, especially not your body. And men aren’t superior to women. We’re all equal."

You bit your lip, considering her words. "But that’s how my daddy raised me, Ellie. He always says women should obey men."

Ellie leaned forward, her eyes filled with conviction. "Well, according on how Joel raise me. He taught me to stand up for myself and that I’m just as important as any man. It’s about respect, not obedience. You don’t owe Jamie anything just because he’s nice. If he can’t respect your boundaries, he’s not worth your time."

You felt a flicker of hope at her words. "I... I guess you’re right. It’s just hard to go against everything I’ve been taught."

Ellie reached out and squeezed your hand. "I know it’s hard, but you deserve to be with someone who respects you and your choices. Don’t let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less than you are."

When Ellie said that, it felt like a hit to the chest. "Don't let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less..." Her words echoed in your mind, resonating with a truth that was both comforting and terrifying. You wished you could believe it, wished you had the strength to stand up to your father. But the reality of your life loomed large and unyielding. Defiance meant danger. Defiance meant pain.

As Ellie's words replayed in your head, you felt a knot tightening in your stomach. You imagined standing up to your father, telling him that you were more than his expectations, more than his strict rules and harsh punishments. The thought made your heart race with a blend of hope and fear.

You glanced at Ellie, her eyes filled with a fierce, protective light. She believed in you, saw your worth even when you couldn't. It was a beacon in the darkness of your doubt, a small but vital spark of hope.

Yet, the idea of challenging your father felt insurmountable. His shadow stretched long over your life, dictating your every move, every thought. You had been molded by his will, taught to obey without question, to live in the confines of his rigid beliefs.

You had to pretend to be the perfect daughter, maintaining the facade that your father was the saintly preacher everyone believed him to be. The weight of this pretense was suffocating, but it was the only way you knew to survive.

Outside, the conversation between Tommy and your father continued, their voices a low hum against the backdrop of the evening. Joel, on the other hand, was mostly silent, nursing his beer as he leaned against the porch railing. His eyes flicked occasionally to the living room, where you and Ellie were talking.

Joel's expression was hard to read, but there was a tension in his jaw, a tightness in his grip on the beer bottle that hinted at his unease. He listened more to your conversation than to Tommy and your father's, though he tried to appear disinterested. Something about you drew him in, made him care more than he wanted to admit. He told himself it was none of his business, that he had no right to interfere in someone else’s family matters. But still, there was a nagging feeling in his gut, an instinct honed by years of protecting those he loved.

As Joel watched you, he saw the way your shoulders slumped slightly when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes darted nervously to the doorway whenever a noise came from the kitchen. You were like a skittish animal, always on alert, always ready to flee or freeze. It reminded him too much of the broken children he'd seen in the aftermath of tragedy, children who had learned too young that the world was a dangerous place.

He took another sip of his beer, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn't need more complications in his life. He had enough to deal with, enough to protect. But damn it, there was something about you, something that called out to the part of him that had once been a father, that still is a father to Ellie. It was a part of him that couldn't ignore the signs of distress, the silent cries for help.

In the living room, Ellie continued to speak softly, her words a balm to your troubled heart. "You know," she said, squeezing your hand, "no matter what, you've got me. If you ever need to get away, to take a break, my door's always open."

You looked at her, the warmth in her eyes contrasting sharply with the cold dread that usually filled your days. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice barely holding back the tears. "It means more than you know."

Joel caught that moment, saw the brief glimpse of vulnerability and the strength it took for you to accept Ellie’s offer of support. It stirred something deep within him, a protective instinct he hadn't felt in a long time.

He tried to shake it off, focusing back on the conversation outside. Tommy was laughing at something your father said, their voices blending into the background noise of the night. But even as he tried to tune them out, his mind kept drifting back to you. He didn't know what he could do, or if he should do anything at all.

As the evening wore on, Joel glanced back at you one last time, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to help, without overstepping the boundaries he was so careful to maintain.

***

The last few weeks had been a blur of routine and unspoken tension. Each day felt like a balancing act, with you trying to maintain the perfect image your father demanded while wrestling with your own growing doubts and fears. The only moments of relief came when you could steal a few minutes alone with Ellie, her unwavering support a lifeline in the storm.

One evening after school, you found yourself in your usual spot on the porch, the soft hum of cicadas filling the air. You hugged your knees to your chest, staring out at the darkening sky, your thoughts a tangled mess. You were wearing a nice white mini dress, modest yet elegant, with your hair braided into two sides and adorned with white ribbons.

You had managed to keep up appearances at church, attending every service, helping with every event, but the pressure was becoming unbearable. The weight of your father's expectations pressed down on you like a vise, and each day it grew tighter.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar truck parked in your driveway. You watched as a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard and black hair stepped out. He had a ruggedly handsome look about him, and as he saw you, a charming smile spread across his face. He stood there for a moment, then walked towards you with an air of confidence.

“Evenin’,” he said, his voice a smooth drawl. “Is this Father Gibson’s house?”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing your dress. “Yes, it is. Can I help you with something?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Well, aren’t you a polite one? I’m lookin’ for the Reverend. Is he around?”

You nodded again, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “He’s inside. I can get him for you.”

As you turned to go inside, he called after you, his voice teasing. “You know, you’ve got a real pretty smile. Brightens up the whole place.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and forced a polite smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Inside, you found your father in his study, poring over his notes for Sunday’s sermon. “Dad, there’s someone here to see you.”

Your father looked up, frowning slightly. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know his name, but he’s outside waiting,” you replied.

Your father nodded, rising from his chair and heading towards the door. You followed him, your curiosity piqued.

The man was waiting patiently on the porch, his hands in his pockets. As your father approached, he extended a hand with a broad smile. “Reverend Gibson, pleasure to meet you. I'm Naomi's cousin, I assume she already told you?"

Your father shook his hand, a wary look in his eyes. “Ah, yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith."

The man leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I was hopin’ we could have a little chat. Got some things I’d like to discuss."

Your father glanced at you, then back at him. “Of course. Let’s step inside.”

As they moved inside, the man glanced back at you, giving you a wink. You watched them disappear into the house, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling inside you.

Not long after, you heard the rumble of Jamie's truck pulling up. Your heart lightened, and you smiled, walking towards the driveway with an eagerness that belied the tension you had been feeling all day. You hung by the fences, your fingers curling around the cool metal as Jamie got out of his truck.

"Hi, Jamie," you said, your voice bright with excitement.

Jamie grinned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. "Hey sweetpie, how are ya doing? looking beautiful as ever,"

Jamie’s compliment made your cheeks flush, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m doing alright. How about you?”

Jamie’s grin widened. “Can’t complain. I was thinking maybe we could catch that new movie tonight. What do you say?”

The thought of escaping the confines of home and spending a carefree evening with Jamie was a welcome distraction. “That sounds great. But I need to ask my dad first.”

Jamie nodded, settling back into the truck as you approached the front door. The door swung open, and you saw your father still deep in conversation with the man you didn’t know, whose gaze was fixed intently on you.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the unnerving feeling that his eyes were tracing every inch of you.

You spoke to your father, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible. “Father, Jamie asked if I could go to the cinema with him tonight. Is it okay?”

Your father glanced at you briefly, then at the man, whose expression was inscrutable but decidedly interested. “Jamie Lee?” your father asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you replied.

Your father’s eyes flickered with annoyance at being interrupted but softened as he looked at you. “It’s not ideal to leave while we have a guest here, but alright, you can go. Be back by eight.”

You thanked him and turned to leave, but as you did, you couldn’t help but notice how the man’s gaze lingered on you. His eyes, though polite, seemed to hold a predatory glint, scanning you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly.

You gave a nervous smile as you rejoined Jamie at the truck, who was looking at you with a hopeful expression. “Dad said it’s fine. Let’s go.”

Jamie’s face lit up, and he slid into the driver’s seat with an easy grin. As he started the engine, he turned on some country music, the tunes filling the truck and momentarily lifting your spirits. The drive was smooth, and you found yourself relaxing, your earlier worries momentarily forgotten.

After the movie, Jamie suggested a detour. “How about we grab a drink? There’s a little bar outside of town where we can chill for a bit. What do you say?”

You hesitated, not entirely sure about the idea but wanting to enjoy the evening. “I don’t know… I’m not really into drinking.”

Jamie reassured you with a charming smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Just one drink, I promise.”

When you arrived at the bar, a dimly lit place with a cozy, rustic feel, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Jamie led you inside, and you slid onto a barstool. Jamie ordered whiskey for himself and told you he’d get you something sweet.

The bartender handed you a glass, and you took a tentative sip, expecting a cherry cola. Instead, the liquid was warm and had a strong, unfamiliar bite. You grimaced, looking at Jamie with confusion. “This doesn’t taste like cherry cola. Are you sure this is what I ordered?”

Jamie leaned in, his voice low and soothing. “Nah, it’s whiskey, babe. I thought you might want to try something a bit more adventurous.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I can’t drink whiskey. I’ve never had it before, and my dad would be really angry if he found out.”

Jamie gave you a reassuring smile, placing a hand on your back. “Relax. It’s just a drink. No one’s gonna know. Besides, it’s just one drink. You’ll be fine.”

You hesitated, glancing around the bar. The atmosphere was relaxed, but you couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in your stomach. Jamie’s insistence and easy demeanor made it hard to say no. You took another small sip, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal.

Jamie’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched you. “Just have a little more. You might actually like it. It’s good for loosening up, you know?”

Reluctantly, you took another sip, feeling the warmth spread through you. The whiskey tasted harsh and made you cough slightly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

Jamie laughed, a bit too loudly, but with a genuine affection in his voice. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax and have fun. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

Despite the alcohol, you felt an uneasy flutter in your stomach, the drink making you feel lightheaded. Jamie encouraged you to drink more, and you found yourself gradually giving in, the whiskey dulling the edges of your anxiety.

As the evening wore on, you felt the effects of the alcohol more clearly. Your thoughts became hazy, and the room seemed to spin slightly. Jamie’s presence became more comforting, and his laughter more infectious. He kept encouraging you to drink, telling you it was all in good fun.

The bar buzzed with life around you, but the world felt distant, the sounds muffled by the warmth and haze of whiskey. Jamie’s arm around your shoulders was a constant presence, a mix of comfort and tension that made your skin tingle.

As he helped you into the truck, his touch was firm, and you leaned against him, inhaling the potent blend of whiskey and his cologne. The city lights outside blurred, a streak of neon against the dark sky, but Jamie abruptly pulled over to a quiet, secluded road.

“Jamie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Jamie’s gaze was intense, a smoldering look that seemed to pierce through the fog of your mind. “I just wanted to be alone with you,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly slurred. His fingers traced your jawline, his touch both tender and possessive.

The air in the truck was thick with anticipation, charged with an electric tension that you couldn’t ignore. Jamie leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so incredibly beautiful. I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

A shiver cascaded down your spine at his words, a confusing mix of desire and trepidation swirling within you. The whiskey had softened your inhibitions, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.

His words were like a seductive caress, stirring a deep, unsettling need. “Jamie, I can't,” you began to say, but his lips silenced you, capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss.

His lips were rough, demanding, and they moved with an intensity that set your senses alight. His hands roamed over your body, finding the buttons of your blouse with a hunger that made your heart race. he's messaging your boobs you slowly moan because it feels so good.

The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate urgency. His hands were warm but rough, the contrast of his touch creating a mix of discomfort and electric thrill.

You felt a rising heat as he tugged at your blouse, the fabric yielding under his insistent fingers. “Just this once,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot and ragged. “It’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted, I promise.”

A part of you wanted to resist, but the intoxicating mix of his touch and your own growing desire blurred your judgment. You felt a strange, almost reckless surrender, your boundaries melting away in the intensity of the moment.

"Stop, I-I can't," you said

"I promise, it will feel good, baby," he said

Jamie’s fingers moved with a deliberate skill, teasing and exploring your most sensitive spots. You gasped as his touch sent jolts of pleasure through your body, making your head swim with a mix of desire and confusion. The whiskey's lingering warmth mingled with the heat rising within you, clouding your ability to think clearly.

His other hand slid down your back, pulling you closer until you were almost on his lap. The friction between your bodies only intensified the sensations coursing through you. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a hard, undeniable reminder of his desire.

“Jamie,” you breathed, your voice a mix of protest and longing. “I shouldn’t—”

But your words were cut off as his fingers found their mark, pressing and circling with just the right pressure. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. A moan escaped your lips, unbidden and undeniable.

“Just let go,” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “I’ve got you.”

His mouth found yours again, the kiss deepening as he continued to work you with his fingers. Your body responded eagerly, every nerve ending on fire. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you surrendered to the sensations overwhelming you.

With a deftness born of experience, he slipped your blouse off your shoulders, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. Your skin tingled where he touched, each kiss sending a wave of heat through you.

His hands moved to your breasts, kneading and teasing, his mouth following close behind. The contrast of his rough fingers and the softness of his lips was intoxicating, making you arch into his touch. You could feel the last vestiges of your resistance crumbling, your body aching.

“Jamie,” you whispered, your voice a mix of wanting for more but you are scared, “Please, stop…”

His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in shedding his own clothes. The sight of him, bare and ready, sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He reached for you, pulling you close until you were both lying back on the seat, your bodies entwined.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Jamie, please,” you begged, a note of panic creeping into your voice as his grip tightened and his movements became rougher. The initial pleasure was swiftly giving way to pain, each thrust sending shockwaves of discomfort through your body.

“Stop, Jamie, it hurts,” you pleaded, trying to push him away. But he was too strong, his body a heavy weight pinning you down. His eyes, glazed over with alcohol and desire, didn’t seem to register your distress. Instead, his anger flared, his thrusts becoming more forceful and unrelenting.

Tears streamed down your face as you cried out in pain, your voice breaking with each sob. “Please, stop! Jamie, please stop!” you screamed, your hands frantically pushing against his chest, but it was no use. He was lost to his own needs, driven by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

You felt a deep, pervasive sense of violation, your body and spirit shattering with each brutal movement. Desperation clawed at your insides as you prayed for an end to the torment. “God, please make him stop,” you whispered through your tears, your voice a broken, helpless plea.

But Jamie didn’t stop. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. The pain was overwhelming, each thrust tearing through you, leaving you feeling dirty and used. Your cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of his ragged breathing and the cruel rhythm of his assault.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, every second an eternity of agony and despair. You felt yourself slipping into a numb, distant place, a coping mechanism to survive the relentless onslaught. Your body became a vessel of pain, your mind retreating to a place where the hurt couldn’t reach you.

Finally, with a shuddering groan, Jamie reached his climax, his body stilling as he released himself inside you. The moment he pulled out and rolled away, you curled into a ball, your body shaking with sobs. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional devastation, the sense of betrayal and violation that coursed through you.

Jamie lay beside you, panting and spent, seemingly oblivious to the trauma he had inflicted. His eyes slowly cleared as the effects of the alcohol began to wear off, but the damage was already done. You felt hollow, your trust shattered, your sense of self irreparably damaged.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled, his voice thick with regret as he reached out to touch you. You flinched violently, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.

"Get away from me!" you screamed, your voice raw with pain and anger. You felt so dirty, so violated, your mind reeling from the horror of what had just happened. You wanted to disappear, to vanish from the world and escape the unbearable weight of your trauma.

Jamie pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I didn't mean to... I was drunk... I—" His words were a pathetic jumble of excuses, falling on deaf ears.

"Just shut up," you spat, your voice trembling with rage. "Just shut up and take me back to town. I can't be here with you. I can't even look at you."

He nodded mutely, too ashamed to argue. As he started the truck, you pulled your clothes back on with shaking hands, each movement a reminder of the violation you'd endured. The drive back was silent, the air thick with a tension that neither of you dared to break.

When the truck finally came to a stop near the outskirts of town, you didn't wait for it to fully halt before you opened the door and stumbled out. "I can walk from here," you said coldly, not looking back. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Jamie opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He simply nodded, the look of regret and sorrow etched on his face as you slammed the door shut and started walking away.

As you walked, each step felt like an eternity, your mind a whirlwind of pain and confusion. You couldn’t go home, not like this. The thought of facing your family in your current state was unbearable. Instead, you turned your steps towards Ellie’s house. She was the only one who would understand, the only one you could trust to hold you through this nightmare.

You stumbled up the porch steps, your vision blurred by tears, your makeup smeared and your hair a tangled mess. Your dress was wrinkled and torn, a stark reminder of what had happened. You knocked on the door, hugging yourself tightly in a futile attempt to keep warm, to feel safe.

When the door opened, it wasn’t Ellie who stood there. It was Joel. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with tears, your breath hitching in your chest.

Joel's eyes widened in shock and concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. "What happened?" he asked urgently, his voice trembling with worry. "What’s going on? Are you hurt?" Ellie wasn’t home; she was staying at a friend's house for the night.

The sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears, and you couldn't hold back the sobs any longer. You collapsed to the ground, your body shaking with the force of your cries. The world around you blurred into an indistinguishable mess of pain and despair.

Joel was beside you in an instant, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you. "You're safe now. I've got you."

As he held you, his heart raced, a sense of urgency fueling his every movement. He noticed the blood seeping through your legs, and panic gripped him. There was a raw, protective anger in his eyes, one that he usually kept buried deep beneath his calm exterior.

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. "Joel," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "He hurt me. He wouldn’t stop. I begged him, but he wouldn’t stop."

Joel’s body went rigid, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Who hurt you?" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and sorrow.

"Jamie," you sobbed, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. "I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen."

The silence that followed your confession was thick with tension. Joel’s face darkened, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness that made you feel a flicker of safety amidst your despair. He took a deep breath, clearly fighting to keep his anger in check.

"Come on, let's get you inside," he said softly, helping you to your feet. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.

He led you into the living room, where the soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light on the room, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you felt inside. Joel carefully sat you down on the couch. He needed to clean you up. The sight of your blood-soaked dress made his heart ache with a mix of sorrow and rage.

Joel disappeared for a moment, returning with a blanket and a cup of tea. He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring, then handed you the tea.

"Here, drink this," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’ll help."

You took the cup with trembling hands, the warmth seeping into your skin, offering a small measure of comfort. Joel sat beside you, his presence a solid anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"You don’t have to talk about it right now," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with sorrow. "But I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready."

You looked at him, the tears still streaming down your face. "I feel so dirty," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn't want this. I didn’t want any of it."

Joel's face softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and fierce protectiveness. "You're not dirty," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Baby, it's not your fault."

The sincerity in his voice broke something loose inside you, and you sobbed harder, your body shaking with the force of your grief. Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. “We’ll get through this,” he promised, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. For the first time in a while, Joel opened his heart, letting his walls down to show you his unwavering support.

He held you for what felt like hours, his embrace a cocoon of safety and warmth. The tears seemed endless, each one carrying a fragment of your shattered soul. But Joel remained steadfast, his presence a constant reassurance that you were not alone in your suffering.

As he held you, Joel's thoughts churned with a mix of emotions. He was a man of few words, accustomed to keeping his feelings locked away, buried deep beneath a hardened exterior. But seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, stirred something dark and primal within him.

It reminded him of his own past, the pain and loss that had shaped him into the man he was today. The memories of Sarah, his daughter, flashed through his mind – the way he had failed to protect her, the helplessness and rage that had consumed him. He had vowed never to let himself feel that kind of pain again, to never let anyone get close enough to hurt him.

Yet here he was, holding you, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you, to shield you from the world’s cruelty. The thought of Jamie, the man who had done this to you, ignited a fierce, burning anger within him. Joel's grip tightened around you, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

He would make Jamie pay for what he had done. There was a darkness inside Joel, a ruthless side that he rarely let see the light of day. But for you, he would unleash it. He would ensure that Jamie never hurt you – or anyone else – again. The thought of revenge, of justice, gave him a grim sense of purpose, a way to channel the turmoil inside him.

Joel's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He was deeply troubled by the sight of you in such pain, and his protective instincts surged to the forefront. He knew he had to keep himself under control, to focus on helping you heal. But the thought of Jamie’s actions ignited a cold, calculated fury within him.

[mountttmase]

Winter Sun - Chapter 5

Note - lil early treat as the game is on tomorrow. this is probably one of my favourites so I’m super excited for you guys to read it. Once again thank you sm for being so lovely I just adore you guys 🥺 also I added in a anons suggestion last minute I hope you like it 🤭 and feedback is appreciated as always 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6.1k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

You didn’t know if the heat was getting to Mason, but he could barely keep his hands off of you as the week went on.

Every night the pair of you ended up in one of the others room to let off some steam and you were beginning to wonder how you’d survive without him when the holiday finished. Even during the day he’d try and sneak you off if he could. Pretending you’d gone for a nap or to make a call so he could quickly make the pair of you cum and you couldn’t lie, you were having the time of your life.

It wasn’t just the sex though. He was right, you were his for the week and no matter where you were or what you were doing he was practically glued to your side. You were having the best week with him and all your friends and the little arrangement only made it even better.

You kept to your side of the deal too, making him breakfast and lunch if he wanted it. Treating him to ice cream when you were out even when he refused and making sure he always had his sun cream on but you knew he was secretly loving being taken care of in this way. Often finding him staring at you longingly as you made him something to eat like he wanted to pull you in and not let you go.

You felt good. Better than good, you felt wanted and needed and even though you both promised that the friendship came first and no feelings would be involved you noticed you’d started to slip.

You thought about him constantly when he wasn’t around, only feeling truly content when he was next to you and you felt yourself becoming in tune with the way he acted towards you. One misplaced glance or change in the tone of his voice had you spiralling but you were too afraid to say anything to him in case you made a fool of yourself so you kept it in. Trying to be as relaxed as possible around him.

You’d had a great week by all accounts though, getting drunk in the evening and soaking up the sun in the day and before you knew it there were only a few days left. Today was a little different though as you were meant to be having a girls day and Carly had arranged for the four of you to go pottery painting whilst the boys had their own thing going on but when you left you realised they were coming with you. Ben explaining that due to the weather their speedboat experience had been cancelled so they were tagging along to paint with you.

‘I’ve never done pottery painting, I don’t think I’ll be any good’ you told Mason as you all approached the building. Him holding the door open for you and you smiled as you walked passed him.

‘You decorate your cakes all fancy though, surely you can’t be too bad’

‘I guess we’ll have to wait and see’ you winked. Joining everyone else as a sweet older lady explained what you had to do.

Once she was done you were all allowed to go and pick your pottery, and once again you felt Mason brush up besides you as you looked for something to paint.

‘What are you thinking of painting?’ You asked him, eyes scanning the shelves for something exciting and you watched as he picked up a small stubby sort of vase before sending you a wink.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know’ he laughed before turning on his heel and making his way over to sit with the rest of the boys. Leaving you stumped before turning back to your only other hope.

‘Carly? Whar are you painting?’

‘Gonna paint Ben a mug I think, and maybe a little bowl for my cereal’ she mused, grabbing the biggest bowl she could see before taking it back to the girls table. You watched with a smile, knowing how much she loved her cookie crisp but your eyes were soon wandering over to Mason like they always did.

In the end you picked up a mug, wanting to paint Mason something too and then a mug for yourself before joining the girls. Sitting and gossiping as you let your creative juices flow and even though you were trying your hardest to paint something nice for Mason your lines were all wobbly and you thought it looked silly but you hoped it liked it.

For your own mug you decorated it with little strawberries and daisies, this coming out a little better than Masons but you were clearly taking too long as the girl’s had gone to join the boys to show off what they’d made as you were finishing up.

‘That's pretty’ Mason smiled, taking up the seat next to you. ‘The mugs not too bad either’

‘Oh hush it you’ you laughed. Secretly enjoying his compliments and you knew you were blushing as much as you tried to hide it.

‘Sorry, but it’s true, I am a bit concerned though. Please don’t tell me you’ve spent this whole time doing that’

‘Of course not’ you laughed, nodding your head to the side and you watched his eyes light up at the Spider-Man mug you’d painted for him. ‘I know it’s not great but I thought it might look good on your mug tree I got you’ you laughed, referring to the one you’d got him as a house warming gift and you watched his eyes soften as they flickered back between you and the mug.

‘You painted that for me?’

‘Of course. Just another little thank you of mine’ you teased but you could tell he was touched that you’d made something for him.

‘I guess I should show you what I did’ he laughed, a nervous expression on his face as he went to retrieve his item but you were more than confused when he set it down in front of you.

This looked nothing like the vase he’d picked up before. It was covered in little hearts of all shapes and sizes, pretty flowers and a few cupcakes hidden in here and there plus a slightly bigger pink heart that had gwen Stacey’s pink mask inside. Making you smile as you recalled all the times you’d spent watching it together and you loved the way both of yours tied in together without you meaning it too.

You were just about to ask what it was when you noticed the word tips carefully written in a fancy font on the front and your eyes shot up to his nervous ones.

‘It’s for your bakery. Thought it might look nicer than the coffee jar you’ve got sat by the till’ he laughed and your heart melted instantly.

‘Oh Mase’ you laughed. Dropping your brush and pulling him in for a hug and he held you back just as tightly. Tucking his head into your neck as he was a little shy and your heart thumped at how lovely he had been.

‘Bit of luck I painted something for you now huh?’ You laughed. Pulling back to look at his flushed face before his eyes darted to the Spider-Man mug in between you.

‘I’ll treasure it forever’ he laughed before helping you pick everything up and take it over to where everyone else’s were. The lady let you know they’d take around a week to be finished and you all wrote your addresses down for each piece before going to grab a quick lunch so you could get back to the villa. The weather now changing and after your busy morning and early afternoon, all you could think about was heading over to your chair and blocking out the rest of the world.

Well everyone but Mason at least.

He was still in the kitchen grabbing himself a drink, promising to follow you outside shortly to join you and with a quick, sneaky pinch to his bum you took the few steps from the kitchen to outside.

‘You coming in, y/n?’ Ben called, motioning his head into the pool as you walked around the edge towards you but you shook your head. Heading straight for the lounge chair you’d claimed as your own so you could get set up with your book however Ben seemed to be having different ideas. Stopping you in your tracks with his hands on your shoulders and the cheeky smile on his face unnerved you. ‘Come on, I haven’t seen you in there once this week’

‘So? I don’t want to’

‘But you have to, it’s the rules’ he laughed, turning you so you were now facing away from him, his chest pressed against your back as he bent slightly before lifting you from the floor.

‘Chilly I swear to god, put me down’ you shrieked, voice full of fear but you could tell he thought it was all hilarious. Swinging you from side to side as you thrashed and kicked your legs, your breaths short and sharp like you couldn’t take enough air in and as your eyes began to sting from fear you couldn’t help but let out a frightened whimper.

‘No can do, everyone needs to go for a swim or you can’t say you’ve had a proper holiday’ he laughed, swinging you back one final time before launching you into the water.

Everyone’s laughter and cheering was suddenly silenced, all you could hear was a rushing noise as you tried to fight your way to safety. You didn’t know what way was up and what was down and the more you struggled the more lost you became. Your lungs burning as you resisted the urge to open your mouth and scream but you were so frightened you didn’t know what else to do.

I’m gonna die, the only thought that was rushing through your head but the sudden feeling of someone’s arms around your waist as they dragged you up and back to the real world knocked the wind out of you.

You were gasping for breath instantly, your hands gripping onto someone’s strong shoulders as you tried to calm your aching lungs before you felt their hand on you back so they could pull you into them. Your arms snaked around their neck as you hid your head into them and they rubbed up and down soothingly to try and relax you before pulling you flush against them with their lips to your ear.

‘It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’ve got you, yeah? I promise it’s alright’

‘Mase’ you whimpered, booming coughs erupting from you as you clung to him even tighter. Wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you to his chest tightly and you knew you were going to be fine.

‘I know, Muffin. I promise I’ve got you’ he told you gently as he slowly walked you to the steps of the pool, gently walking you out whilst you clung to him like a koala and once you were up the steps and on the side you let yourself slide down his body so you could stand on your own. You could feel him start to pull back, probably wanting to check you were okay but you were having none of it. Small sobs now poring from you as you realised you were okay, the shock of it all finally hitting you and the embarrassment of everyone having seen you flapping about like a wet fish made you hold him even tighter as you cried into his neck.

‘Y/n I-‘ Ben started from behind you but Mason was quick to cut him off for you.

‘Don’t, Ben. Just don’t’

‘I didn’t-‘

‘Ben I swear to god if you don’t fuck off right now’ Mason growled, his body going stuff as he pulled you impossibly closer to his body. ‘I mean what the fuck were you thinking?’ He roared, but you didn’t want to start and argument so you pulled back in the hopes he’d look at you. He looked furious, cheeks flushed as his brows pitched together and you could feel the anger pouring from him but you watched his expression soften at the sight of you.

‘Can we just go inside’ you whispered through your tears and without so much a look in Bens direction, Mason lead you into the kitchen and away from everyone else before picking you up by your thighs and placing you on the counter.

‘Are you okay?’ He whispered, holding you by the jaw so she could get a good look at you and even though you were still crying and taking in strangled breaths you nodded your head. ‘What happened?’

‘H-he threw me I-in. I p-panicked’ you stuttered out before he pulled you back into his chest so you could calm down. You knew you were fine but your heart was still beating out of your chest and you were thankful you had Mason to grip onto.

Once you were calm again you pulled back to look at him, a soft concerned expression on his face as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead and you couldn’t ignore the goosebumps that traveled over your arms at the gesture. His touch was grounding you more than you thought it would but the feel of his lips on your skin made you feel even better.

‘You really don’t like the water do you?’ He asked softly, a small smile on his lips and you shook your head softly as you rubbed at your eyes. ‘Can you swim?’ He questioned gently and you took a nervous gulp before answering.

‘No’ you whispered, wanting to look away out of embarrassment but his non judgemental stare settled you and your carried on looking into his gentle eyes.

‘Y/n’ he sighed, but you could tell there was smile behind his voice as he slightly scolded you. ‘You need to tell me things like that. How am I supposed to look after you if I don’t know?’

‘Sorry’ you chuckled but he just shook his head before pulling you back into his embrace.

‘It’s alright. Just as long as you’re okay’ he mumbled, pulling back to look at you and you sent him a reassuring smile.

‘I’ll be fine’

‘Good’ he laughed before dropping his head to press a light kiss to your lips.

You froze, that’s against the rules being your first thought but he didn’t seem to be reacting in any way so you kept your cool and acted like what he’d just done was normal even though it was anything but.

‘Do you fancy going out for a bit? We can head to the beach rather than hanging here, I just know if I see Ben I’m likely to throttle him’ he joked, squeezing your waist lightly and you agreed, still a little embarrassed about the whole thing so you let him help you down so you could quickly leave.

You tried to be quick, drying yourself off and changing into a new bikini and a pair of shorts before chucking on an over shirt and trainers snd meeting Mason in the hall outside your rooms.

He was dressed in shorts and a tank, clearly throwing his own outfit together pretty hastily but looking at him still made your knees weak. The fact he’d have his tattoos on show for you today too made your tummy flip so when he held out his hand you took it straight away before he led you outside and thankfully you didn’t see anyone on the way out. Following Mason with your head down and once you were out he steered you towards the main town.

‘Thought we could have a walk on the beach maybe? Or look round some shops?’

‘Sounds perfect’ you smiled, squeezing his hand gently as you followed him down.

You arrived at the shops first, the pair of you looking at all the trinkets and souvenirs before Mason asked if you’d like to play a game and you looked up at Mason with a confused expression.

‘Whenever me and my family go away we get each other a magnet’ he told you, head motioning inside one of the tourist shops at a giant wall of magnets. ‘You go in here, I’ll go into the shop opposite and we can buy each other one. You know, one that reminds us of the other’ he explained but your silence made his face falter. ‘Or if that’s weird we can just-‘

‘No Mason I love it’ you giggled, squeezing his hand before letting go. ‘I’ll meet you out here in a sec yeah?’

‘Okay’ he nodded shyly before you both went in separate directions. There were a few you were considering but in the end you picked up one that looked like a rooster as it reminded you of Nando’s and you’d seen them everywhere this week and once you’d picked up a few more things for people back home, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Carly’s name flashing up on your screen and you felt nervous instantly. She wasn’t around when the pool fiasco happened and you knew she was probably worrying where you were.

You met him outside where he was looking at you with a cheeky smile before quickly swapping the little paper bags they were hidden in, both bursting into fits of giggles when you saw you’d bought each other the same one.

‘You fancy a walk on the beach? We can stay away from the water if you want’ he smiled but you just laughed and took his outstretched hand. Walking along the shore as he intwinted his fingers with yours.

It all felt so surreal, getting caught up in the moment even though you know you shouldn’t have, but the way he was acting so soft and caring with you made your heart flutter and you had to remind yourself often that he was still just your friend.

He stopped suddenly, pulling his phone out his his pocket before seemingly trying to take a picture of the sand in front of you and you were confused as to what he was doing until he threw a peace sign up in the air, looking down to see his shadow on the sand so you joined in as he took a few more. Both giggling away until he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his side before popping a kiss on your forehead and snapping a picture.

You looked up at him carefully, his bright eyes looking down into yours and the urge to kiss him was stronger than ever. He beat you to it though, planting another illegal kiss on your lips softly before taking your hand again so you could carry on walking.

‘You feeling better now, Muffin?’ He asked quietly, a hint of worry still in his eyes but it needn’t be there.

‘Much better. Thank you for looking after me Mase’ you told him sincerely, wrapping your arms around his waist so you could hold him close. ‘Sorry for ruining your peaceful afternoon’

‘Don’t be silly, I’d rather hang out with you anyway. I was thinking, maybe we could grab some dinner out? Unless you wanna go back, we can do that too’ he told you, rushing at the end like he thought he’d overstepped but you were enjoying your alone time with him so you sent him a reassuring smile.

‘No I like the sound of that. Maybe we could have a little picnic on the beach? I don’t think I’m looking too presentable to be sitting in somewhere’ you laughed, looking down and your thrown together outfit and still damp hair but the soft smile on his face relaxed you.

‘I mean I think you look great but whatever you want’ he winked, squeezing your sides playfully.

After another quick walk around the town, Mason pointed out a take away pizza place and put your order in before you popped into the small supermarket opposite to grab some drinks and sweet treats before taking your food back to the beach so you could eat and watch the sunset.

Even though you didn’t like the water, there was something about sitting by the sea and the sound of the waves that made you feel at peace. And sitting with Mason as you spoke casually about future plans and how he was looking forward to the rest of the season made your heart sing.

‘I know we haven’t known each other too long in the grand scheme of things, but you know I’m really proud of you, don’t you?’ You told him softly, watching the most heartwarming smile stretch across his face before he patted the space in front of him so you’d sit in between his legs. Once you were comfortable his arms snaked around your waist and you placed yours on top of his as he pulled you as close as he could to him. His lips by your ear so he could speak to you quietly.

‘I’m proud of you too, Muffin’ he whispered, the smile in his voice evident but you both started giggling as he kissed the side of your head. ‘I’m serious. You’ve got your own thing going on and you’re so successful and like I’m just so happy for you, you know? No one deserves to be happy more than you’

‘You deserve to be happy too’ you told him, moving your shoulders round slightly so you could look at him and you almost melted when his hand came to rest on your cheek so he could stroke it gently.

‘I am happy’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah, I know it was a big choice to go up there and have everything change. And yeah maybe there are certain things I would of liked to of kept the same but I think it’s worked out pretty well’

‘I think so too’ you whispered, your smile mirroring his as he continued to gently stroke your cheek. ‘Though I miss having you around’

‘I miss you too’ he smiled

‘Hmmm me or my cakes?’

‘Your cake’s obviously’ he laughed, making you roll your eyes playfully as you looked away from him but he was quick to hold you closer and scatter kisses on top of your head until you looked back. ‘I’m kidding. It’s mostly you’

There was that feeling again, wanting to kiss him more than anything and you knew he felt the same because his eyes kept flashing down to your lips as they flickered all over your face. You figured you’d just take the plunge, he’d kissed you twice already today so you reached up and thankfully he caught on and met you in the middle.

Kissing Mason like this made you feel giddy. You were breaking every rule in the book but there was no intent behind it, just two people showing the other how they felt and you hope Mason could tell how much you appreciated him for everything

‘Thank you for this week, Mase, I was really worried about coming but I’m so glad I did. I’ll never be able to repay you’

‘You don’t have to thank me or repay me’

‘But I do. I really appreciate everything you do for me’

‘Well do you send me cakes a lot’ he winked, ‘and you're always there for my games, good times and bad you're by my side so I appreciate you too. More than you know’ he told you softly. A warm fuzzy feeling spreading over your skin and you didn’t have the confidence to look at him anymore so you faced forward as the pair of you snuggled closer and listened to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

‘Shall we head back? You’re starting to get cold and I don’t have anything for you’ Mason asked after a little while and even though you were content in his arms you knew it was getting late and you’d have to head back soon so you begrudgingly nodded.

‘Okay’ you whispered, taking a slow walk back with his hand in yours the whole way. When you got back, the house was silent and you weren’t even sure if anyone was in so you made your way down to your rooms after putting your leftovers in the fridge. Standing awkwardly outside your doors as he scratched the back of his neck.

‘You wanna come in here for a bit?’ He asked, making you raise your brows at him suggestively but he was quick to settle you. ‘Nothing like that, I just thought we could hang out for a bit. Watch a movie before bed?’

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah I just… I don’t wanna leave you yet like it feels weird to me’

‘It feels weird to me too’ you admitted shyly and your heart stuttered at his soft smile. ‘Listen, I’m just gonna have a quick shower, get changed and run upstairs for a water. You want me to get you anything?’

‘Why don’t you get us some snacks, I’ll let you pick’ he told you and with a final kiss to your forehead he let you go.

After your shower you found one of your nicer sets of pjs and you made your way upstairs but the sight in front of you made guilt rush through you. There was Ben, his face sat propped up on his fists as he leant against the counter and you could see how miserable he looked just from a glance.

You felt awful, you knew he hadn’t meant anything in a mean way earlier and when his eyes flickered over to yours you sent him a sympathetic smile.

‘You’re back’

‘Yeah we got back about fifteen minutes ago’ you told him as he sat up but he kept his eyes glued to the counter as he nodded his head and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

Without another word you made your way over to him, touching his shoulder so he’d turn a bit before pulling him into your arms. You felt him relax immediately as he held you tightly and you rubbed his back gently hoping to let him know everything was fine between you.

‘I’m so fucking sorry, y/n’ he told you quietly but you could hear the emotion in his voice and it was breaking your heart. ‘I honestly had no idea, I was just trying to have a bit of fun’

‘I know Ben. I know you didn’t mean it horribly and I’m fine I promise. I don’t tell people I can’t swim cause it’s a bit embarrassing but you didn’t know that’ you reassured him as you pulled away but kept your hands on his shoulders. ‘As for Mase I think he just got a bit scared but I’ve had a word with him. There wasn’t any need for him to speak to you like that’

‘It’s fine I deserved a telling off’ he smiled shyly and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. ‘You promise you’re alright?’

‘Fit as a fiddle’ you winked before walking over to the fridge. ‘I was more embarrassed than anything else. Like me, a full grown woman who can’t swim?’

‘Well if you fancy a lesson I can try and teach you. We can call it part of my apology’ he offered and even though you were petrified you wanted to do something to make him feel better.

‘You know what, I’ll take you up on that’ you laughed, shutting the fridge as you gathered your haul in your hands. ‘Let’s start in the morning’

‘It’s a deal’ he winked, a bright smile on his face and you felt better than you had all afternoon knowing you were fine.

‘I better take these down to his majesty’ you joked, motioning towards your full arms. ‘I’ll see you in the morning though, yeah?’

‘Course. Have a good night y/n’

‘You too’ you smiled and with a quick kiss to your cheek you both made your separate ways to your rooms. You didn’t bother knocking when you got to Mason's room, walking in so you could drop the snacks and drinks straight onto the bed but after you’d shut the door and finally caught sight of him, your mouth went dry.

He was lying horizontally across the bed on his side, flicking through the channels to find something to watch clad only in a pair of tight black Calvin’s. As soon as you made eye contact he sent you a sweet smile, shuffling up a bit straighter before patting the space in front of him and it felt like your heart was going a mile a minute as he helped you get settled. His warm skin pressed fully against yours as he tangled your legs together and wrapped his arm around your middle, but it was the light kiss pressed against your temple that made you blush harder than anything.

‘Comfy?’ He asked softly, lips right by your ear casing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin, you just hoped he wouldn't notice and when he didn’t say anything you just nodded and let him hit play.

It was a comfortable silence, but then again you were always comfortable around Mason. The pair of you munching your way through your snacks as you absentmindedly watched the film that was on until you felt him reach for his phone. Tapping away for a few minutes before he placed it back on the bed until you felt your own phone buzz on the side table.

‘I’d get that if I were you’ he told you quietly. Eyes not leaving the tv and you thought it was a bit weird of him but you didn’t question it. Reaching for it to see who it could be but you were surprised to find it was Mason trying to airdrop you something. The first thing looked like a picture of you taken from behind at a beach bar the other day and you felt your heart race as you pressed accept.

You weren’t prepared for what was coming through to you though. A full album of candid shots of yourself from nights out and day trips that Mason must have taken sneakily and you felt your whole body flush as you flicked through them. Seeing yourself through his eyes a little and you’d sworn you’d never felt more beautiful than right now.

‘Mason? What the hell is all this?’ You asked, looking up at him with a wide smile and you watched his cheeks turn the same shade of pink yours probably were.

‘Just some pictures I’ve taken this week that I thought you might like’ he told you. Trying to shrug it off but you knew he knew what he’d done was special to you. ‘I thought maybe you could use some for your daily instagram dumps you seem to love. Do you like them?’

‘I love them, thank you’ you told him. Pulling him towards you tighter and you shivered as he kissed your shoulder.

‘That's okay. I know the others were constantly asking the boys to take pictures and I didn’t want you left out. I’ve kept a few for myself though’ he teased. Making you laugh as you looked back up at him.

‘I suppose I’ll allow it’ you smiled. Reaching up to kiss his jaw before your eyes went back to your phone so you could look through them again and try and find your favourite but it didn’t take long for your eyes to go heavy. It had been a long and slightly stressful day and the warmth of Mason's body and the calmness that you felt about being around him was sending you to sleep quicker than anything. He must have felt it, moving you round so your front was now pressed against his chest with your head in his neck but you knew you couldn’t get too comfortable. Sleeping in the same bed was against the rules.

Not that you’d stuck to the rules at all today.

‘Just gimme five minutes and I’ll go to my room’ you told him quietly, the rumbling of his chest as he laughed waking you slightly but not too much.

‘Don’t be silly, stay here tonight’

‘But Mase-‘

‘But nothing. Just go to sleep, Muffin’ he whispered into your hair and you knew your skin was covered in goosebumps.

You didn’t say another word, just snuggled down further into him as he held you even closer. His hands absentmindedly stroking over your skin and lulling you further into sleep, the last thing you remember being his lips on your forehead as he pressed feather light kisses to your hairline.

When you woke up, you knew it wasn’t morning yet. The sky was a little lighter than when you went to sleep but your thoughts were confirmed when you quickly checked your phone and the time read 03:47am. You weren’t sure why you were awake but you quickly dashed to the loo, carefully untangling yourself from Mason as to not wake him but you saw his eyes open when you returned. You had been contemplating going back to your room but he opened his arms for you as you stood awkwardly and you couldn’t deny him.

‘Sorry, Mase. I didn’t mean to wake you’ you whispered, crawling back into his arms but you let him spoon you this time, smiling at the feel of his arms around you and his lips pressed to the base of your neck.

‘S’okay’ he whispered back, continuing to press small kisses over the bottom of your neck whilst he let his hands wander your body carefully and before long you could feel yourself getting turned on.

You weren’t sure if this was his intention or if he just wanted to feel you but you knew your breathing had gotten deeper as he began to massage over you waist and hips before finally taking your bum in his hands and you couldn't help but moan a little bit. Yes the pair of you had been touchy all day but you’d missed his hands on you like this and once he could hear how he was making you feel he started taking things to the next level.

It was your thighs next, hands reaching forward to massage them softly whilst he littered your neck with kisses and it wasn’t long before you felt him prodding you in the back which caused you to let out a little chuckle. ‘Shhhh’ he laughed, letting his hands travel inward to part them before hooking one up and over his body. Leaving you open for him to do as he pleased.

You felt you hips moving before you’d even realised, grinding your bum down onto him and the chuckle that left his lips would have almost left you embarrassed but you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him again.

‘You just can’t wait can’t you, baby? So needy for me’

‘Please Mase’ you whimpered. Your spine tingling at him calling you baby but thankfully he didn’t want to make you work for it. Just as needy as you it seemed as he pulled your shorts from you and freed himself just enough to be able push himself into you. One arm wrapped around you to hold you close as the other hooked under your thigh to hold it up as he bucked his hips into you from behind and the kisses he was pressing to the back of your neck were driving you wild.

It was lazy and delicious, the pair of you taking it as slow as you could so you could just feel each other rather than chase your highs. Not having sex for the aim of getting off but just because it felt good to be pressed up against each other, to feel him rock his hips in and out of you just like he knew you loved whilst whispering the most heavenly praise in your ear.

You look so fucking beautiful

Feels like you were made for me, you know that?

Let me hear all those pretty noises you make. I don’t care if anyone hears us I wanna know how good you feel

You’re doing so well for me sweetheart

I’ve got you, let go for me gorgeous

When you’d finally come down from your high, you could still feel him pressing the most delicate kisses to the back of your neck until he was burying his face in there. Taking a huge breath like he was absorbing you in and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

The pair of you didn’t move, Mason just feeling heavier and heavier as he sunk into you even more. Falling straight back to sleep so you joined him knowing you’d hadn’t felt this content in the longest time.

y/n

liked by masonmount, carlywlms_, benchilwell and others

Y/n a day well spent 🩷

view comments

masonmount ✌🏻

y/n ✌🏻

declanrice that pizza look insane

y/n It was 👩🏻‍🍳😘 there’s a few slices in the fridge if you want some

carlywlms_ missed you this afternoon 💜

y/n I’ll be there to annoy you tomorrow 💜

okaylaaa omg the magnets 😩 @woody_ we need to get some before we go

y/n they had so many, it’s hard to choose 😭

woody_ I’ll take you tomorrow 😉

benchilwell 💛

y/n 💛

laurenfryer_ you didn’t want to show everyone your Spider-Man mug, no?

y/n I didn’t want to embarrass everyone else with my skills

lukeshaw23 tell Mase that’s not part of his meal plan

y/n It’s a one off treat 😉

masonmount let me tell you, I’ve had many treats this week 😌

__nads hope you’re having the best time 🩷 everyone’s asking after you 🥺

y/n thank you, i hope it’s okay going okay 😂

__nads sugar mumma is still standing 😉

masonmount can you post me up some brownies for when I get home please? Or just whatever’s left over tomorrow, I’m not fussy

y/n @__nads ignore him please 🙄

masonmount no no, she owes me

__nads I’m not getting involved in your domestic 😭

Tagged: @footiehoemcfc @prideofpd @yoursselo @chelseachilly @willow-writer-ivy @mm-vii @katharinanadiaa @mmountseb @carlottawllms @saltyheartnightmare @masonmtxo @harvestmount @chillymountsjess @treblebluesblog @pulisicsgirl @bluesswift @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps

[sonics-atelier]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Ty for the tag darling @shadowqueenjude <33

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

84,046

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

27

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Four - Veil of Deceit ( Ianthe x Amarantha prequel to ACOTAR ) , Tug of Love and War ( I promise I'll post the next chapter soon ) and two Thirty One Days Of Tamcien and Cherik ( this might take me a few weeks to finish )

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Definitely has to be Veil of Deceit and Violated, I think I grew as a writer and got put of my comfort zone and I'm very proud of the results.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

Violated because it was my first time writing about something I had personally been dealing with so I was able to make my emotions come across better as compared to other fics. Also my poems for Tamlin Week were experimental too.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

See I put my blood, sweat and tears into writing and planning Veil of Deceit and it doesn't have many kudos but I was still happy which was weird because I used to care a lot about stats and i realised I didn't care much about the reception if I was enjoying myself.

On the other hand Summer Struggles was written based on just vibes and my observation of max always liking Charles' posts within minutes of him posting them, so I was very surprised when I saw that it garnered 300+ kudos within a week. It was the first time any of my fics got sm love and I was over the moon about it, ty to the f1 rpf Fandom being sweethearts <3

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

God there's so many but at the risk of repeating myself it's Veil Of Deceit and Just One Look both of which I worked a lot on but it went under the radar.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

Hmm, there are lots but @itmeanssungod and @apynae revived my love for Wolfstar and made me fall in love with the ship all over again.

Also, this is recent but @space-ailen3 's lucissa art & @avendell 's lucissa art was so beautiful it made me wanna write more for the ship. Please also go and check out both their respective blogs for amazing art ✨️

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

An author who inspired me is @itsonlydana, their writing is just so so good and I was actually very insecure when I started out about not being able to write smut and wondered if my fics would get less attention because of it but their fic the The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun, showed me that a fic can be a literary masterpiece without having explicit stuff in it and that made me so happy. Thank you Dana ily 💗

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

I recently discovered wonwo_o on ao3 and oh my fucking God their fic Thick Skull made me revive my love for stucky and fall down a rabbit hole, like I devoured that in less than 8 hours, it was so good, no amount of words can describe how much I love all of their works.

I also finally got around to reading Cee_Darling's A Court of Chaos and Darkness and it was so good, it made me see characters I didn't like in a new light and made me understand their actions and it's just a very well written fic.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

Yup, I've collaborated with @shadowqueenjude to write When The Steam Settles ( Rhysand x Cassian ).

It started as a joke about how the batboys are definitely gay cause they were in the sauna together and we kept sharing ideas and then started writing from there, it was so much fun!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Being able to post my writing in itself is something I consider a big accomplishment because if you would've asked 2023 me if I thought I'd create stories for my favorite characters and have the courage to post them on the internet I wouldn't have believed it. This was possible only because of the amazing friends I made along the way who gave me the courage to post my writing so a big thank you to them 💗

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

That sometimes the fics that are just based on pure vibes and chaos deliver the best result instead of those which I meticulously plan out. I used to think that writing needed to be a precise and efficient process but that made me lose a lot of things that made the process fun, it was only after taking a break and just writing based on this picture I found on Pinterest did I realise that I was much more fun that I used to and I decided to lay back on the planning and just have fun.

14. Any advice you’d like to share with new or aspiring writers?

One thing I'd say is to write for yourself and write whatever brings YOU the most joy, as writers most of us forget that stats while have their importance the most important thing is to write not to please others but ourselves. And keep writing even if you

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

To focus on my wips and original stories and being able to write what brings me joy and grow as writer.

Tagging : open tags <3

[saintobio]

sincerely not. (16)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. explicit smut (includes; pregnant sex, daddy n mommy kink, marking, voyeurism, slight humiliation), mentions of miscarriage, manipulation, mentions of sexual harassment, violence

notes. 14.1k wc. this was supposed to be longer but i had to cut the scene and just write it onto the next chapter. thanks sm for the beta @exorphic n @kazbrkker <33

series masterlist -> episode seventeen

Sera didn’t expect that she would dig herself a deep hole that went farther than the Earth’s layers just because of an error of judgement—a miscalculation. Now the consequences of her actions were met with scorching fury that exceeded the core’s hot surface. The ironic part of all this was the fact that what awoke her into reality was a nightmare in the name of Satoru Gojou. Ten months ago, the man showered her with saccharine promises of a blissful, comfortable life and a marriage of genuine love. Life was easier back then; she owned every inch of his heart and they were real lovers despite the stark difference in their social status. It was them against the world, them against the universe and all its vastness.

So, why has he changed his mind now? How come the woman he hated being married to was now taking Sera’s place as the rightful recipient of his heart? Surely, her fault in this situation was her failure to accept his words when he first decided to let go of her. Or when he admitted that it had always been you all this time. Sera’s pride was her hamartia and it made her an antagonist in a story where she was meant to be the protagonist.

This wasn’t her justifying the actual horrors of her actions, but the Sera that willingly put a pregnant woman in danger was a person driven by anger, jealousy, and spite. Her bitterness permeated her veins, flowed through her blood, and blazed her vexed mind. She wanted to inflict pain towards the people that betrayed her heart, but in return, she ended up having the repercussions bite her back.

If she had chosen not to give you that damned tea, stayed in her lane, and became the better person, maybe she wouldn’t have had a taste of karma splashing on her face like ice, cold water. Maybe she would have kept her decent-paying job and lived a quiet life, except she would have to suck it in and be tortured by the joyful face of her ex-lover who unabashedly anticipated his first child with his wife (not to mention he previously expressed disgust at the thought of having Sera’s). They said that the tables would turn, but how come she was always on the unfortunate side of it?

Being escorted out of the company she has worked for two years was not the humiliating part, it was the realization that there was no longer any ounce of affection left from Satoru that she hoped he still had.

But see it this way: Eula was the gas that fueled Sera's fire. Yes, that’s right. On the night when the revelation about your pregnancy infested the media, Sera was back in her room wrecking her things and screaming her deafening frustrations into the world. That same night, she had no choice but to call the woman she looked up to and ask her for advice.

“That woman… She has his child,” Sera sobbed through the phone at the time. “I-I thought she’s infertile. Why did—she can’t have a family with Satoru! Miss Eula, what do I do? I don’t want her to have him forever!”

She received an audible sigh of exasperation from the other line. “Goodness! Isn’t that frustrating? That wretched baby’s causing me stress! My husband’s even happy about it, too.”

“What do we do?” Desperate and hopeless was how Sera saw herself to be. “I want Satoru back… I want him… I c-can’t lose him like this, Miss Eula!”

“Get a hold of yourself!” the woman hissed at her. “Jesus Christ. Do something about it if you're that upset. I have no doubt he’s gonna parade her in his office soon.”

Sera sniffed and wiped her tear-stained cheek. “Do I confront her?”

Eula exhaled, clearly upset at the younger woman’s cluelessness. “Use your head! You can’t confront the legal wife in her husband’s office. Play the game and be smart. Act civil around her, give her your best wishes, and do your usual job in the office. Better yet, offer her snacks and some tea. Fool her with your kindness and silently stab her in the back.”

By this time, Sera already knew where this was going and she wasn’t sure if she could proceed. “I’ll p-poison the tea?” she clarified because that bit wasn’t clear. “I can’t… I hate her, but not that way.”

“She’s not gonna die because of a stupid tea. Just give her chamomile!” Eula’s irritation was rising from her throat. “You want revenge? Then just do what I say. He’s only in it because she has his heir, so don’t give him the privilege to have that abominable child with her. Learn from me!”

Clearly, that should have been the last thing that Sera did even in her most vulnerable state. Despite researching about the effects that the said tea could have on a pregnant woman, she trusted Miss Eula’s plans because she was a good example of a woman who had started from the bottom and earned her way to the top. Sera wanted to be just like her and so all morality was lost when she temporarily allowed her greed to course through her.

She shouldn’t have.

Yet, she was a grown woman who could make her own choices in life and the unfortunate (and clearly motivated) path that she took was to claim revenge on a pregnant woman and her husband. The difference between Sera and Eula was how the latter could have executed her plan a heck ton better than the former had and there would be no trace of guilt that could haunt the older woman. That was how she should play the game. Be cruel, be cunning, be unapologetic.

Sera, although hard to believe, was burdened by her guilt and devastation leaving her with no choice but to run back home in a tearful state. The void she created in her chest was growing larger with each step she took upon entering her home. It was hard to believe how a simple action that she did for a few seconds had resulted into a lifetime punishment of losing a job, a lover, and her dignity. This was the comeuppance that she should have seen like an asteroid coming down to destroy her whole life.

In the end, the love that she had for Satoru had dissipated into anger. And that anger had evolved into spite.

“Nee-chan, what’s wrong?” She heard her brother ask in worry as soon as she stepped inside the house with pale lips and obvious puffy eyes behind her smudged mascara. Her gait was also too languid not to notice.

“Sera, are you okay?” The follow up question was from her mom.

“Don’t cry, nee-chan!” As she fell on her knees and succumbed to her lassitude, it was her younger sister who embraced her in her arms and shared her woes.

Family. All she had left was her family.

She didn’t expect that Nari’s frail arms would give her the most comfort at a time like this. “It’s over,” Sera ended up blurting out loud as she wiped her eyes. “I lost my job and the boss that I was dating is a married man! I was his mistress.”

There was no violent reaction to her revelation. Her family only looked at her with sympathy before scooping her in their arms to provide her cold heart with warmth. Why are they not disgusted with me? Sera didn’t really want to label herself as a mistress since she was the first girlfriend before Satoru was arranged to you, but then she remembered the words you said back in Bora Bora.

“In everyone’s eyes, no one cares about who’s the first love. People care about who’s the one that they married.”

She had lost this game. She was the villain and she couldn’t accept it. She was supposed to be the main character in her fairytale, not you. Your marriage was supposed to be hollow and temporary. Satoru was supposed to end up with her.

“Sera, there are better men out there who can love you wholeheartedly,” her mother offered advice, one that Sera took with bitterness.

She was already scoffing at her mom when she pulled away from all three of them. “You’re one to talk, mom. The man you married can’t even provide for his family.”

Jiro took this chance to answer on behalf of his regretful mother. “Nee-chan, dad’s been sober for a month. He’s been looking for jobs just to repay you for—”

“A-About that…” Their mother’s shaky hands alarmed them. She was tearful and nervous, but Sera wondered why exactly she was acting that way. “The money we had left… Your dad used it to gamble. I-I had no idea he took the card and withdrew the money while I was asleep.”

Sera realized that it was better to get hit by a truck than to hear those sickening words from her mother’s mouth. That her revolting father had spent the last bit of money that they had to sustain their lifestyle all for a fucking game of poker. How about their rent? Their bills? Their everyday needs? She released her stress in the form of screams—so loud that it broke her vocal chords as she sobbed and threw the flower vase across the wall. She was thrashing like an unhinged person, destroying everything around her while she continuously wailed. Everything Sera had worked hard for was taken from her in a single day.

She didn’t deserve this. She deserved better than this.

“Sera—!”

“Onee-chan, wait—!”

No one should ever get in the way of an extremely angry woman because Sera was on the verge of self-destruction and her wrath led her to barge inside of her father’s bedroom, snatching his clothes off the closet, and throwing them straight out of the window. It didn’t stop there. She also started hurling his shoes and everything that he owned out of their house without much regret in doing so. In fact, it was cathartic for her because the last thing she wanted to see in her house was that curse of a father. His existence was an anathema to her.

“If any of you…” she warned, looking at her siblings and her mother with deathly fire burning in her brown eyes, “if any of you ever let that man inside this house again, don’t consider me family anymore.”

They didn’t chase after Sera when she walked out of the house and ran off without a specific direction. She just desperately wanted to leave because even the supposed comfort of her home was a heavy weight on her shoulders. There was no peace even around her own family and she was a minute close into falling apart. Where should she run off to now? Who would comfort a woman like her who just lost everything?

In truth, she had no one. She only had herself and the only person she could think of who had always been there to understand her sentiments was Naoya. A man not from the same status, but nonetheless cared for her well-being. He understood her better than anyone else and Sera was at a point where she could only run to him for comfort.

She didn’t even think twice about showing up at the Zen’in estate just to see him nor did she hesitate at enveloping the guy for an embrace the minute he met with her at the foyer because she needed him to soothe her aching heart. Initially, he had become frozen from her advances, but quickly softened up to stroke her hair.

“I-I did something terrible,” her voice was muffled as she buried her face in his chest.

But Naoya didn’t mind. “Wanna talk about it in my room?”

It had been a long, painful day. A day full of misery and retribution. Of tears and screams. She could tell that the universe had been waiting all along to let her pay for her sins and yet, it seemed like it was asking for more than what she deserved.

“Satoru kicked me out of the company,” she spoke again as soon as Naoya closed the door. His eyes assessed her body language while he leaned his back against the wall, arms crossed when he offered his two ears to listen to her. “I gave Y/N chamomile tea and I knew it was bad for her, but I saw red! I was… I was angry!”

Naoya put his arms down and became rigid. “Woah, you tried to harm her baby?”

Sera thought he understood her so well, so why was he acting as if he was looking at the most abhorrent creature he has ever seen? What happened to their connection where he always saw things in her perspective without prior judgment? Before she knew it, she was already approaching him closer in a manner to clear her name. “Wait, Naoya. Listen, I just followed Miss Eula’s advice. Sh-She told me to give Y/N—”

The blond man closed his eyes and sighed. “I’ll tell you something.”

And just like that, the mood has completely shifted. The disgust in Naoya’s eyes was no longer for Sera, but for the older woman whose name had just left her mouth.

“Eula,” Naoya began, taking slow yet measured footsteps as he circled Sera. “You know I treat her like a mom, right? I respect her. She wasn’t born with inherited wealth, but she worked her way to the top.”

Sera was nodding her head as she listened to every word that left his mouth. Her heart rate was slow and calm because there was nothing more relaxing than hearing Naoya’s voice.

And so he continued, “At first, I followed her around for advice because she’s smart and her mindset can help me strategize in business. But then… she was becoming obsessive towards me. Don’t you think that’s weird? I’m way younger than her! She took advantage of my kindness and tried to force herself on me. It’s really disgusting.”

Wow. Sera was speechless. She never thought that Miss Eula would go as far as preying on a man who was so much younger than her. How could she do such a thing? “I-I had no idea she was doing that to you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to her.”

“She’s crazy,” Naoya stated, closing the distance between them by cupping her damp cheek. “You know what’s crazier?”

Sera kept her eyes on his.

“She’s jealous of you.” As the truth left Naoya’s mouth, something just clicked in Sera’s mind but the man took it by himself to voice out her thoughts. “She clearly wanted to ruin you when she told you to do those things. She knew you’d lose her job. She knew Satoru would hate you more. She knew you would be humiliated in front of his wife. She manipulated you because you were vulnerable.”

This… All of this! How could Sera not have seen it? Horror painted her face in realization because everything was now making sense except for one thing. “B-But why is she jealous of me?”

The corner of Naoya’s lips upturned. Along his smirk, he was brushing Sera’s lower lip with his thumb and gazing at her face with a gleam of adoration. “Why not? You’re young, you’re gorgeous, and you’re one of the kindest girls I’ve met. You’re also hard-working and genuine. You’d be so much more capable and powerful than she is now. Do you really think she’ll allow you to become a Gojou when you’d be a threat to her in the future?”

At that point, the tip of Naoya’s nose was pressed against hers. His minty breath brought heat to her cheek, intoxicating her with the affection that she has long yearned for.

“You’re the only one who truly understands me,” her voice broke when she said those words, and she was shamelessly gripping the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. “You’re the only one who cares about me.”

Naoya raked his finger through her long brown tresses. “World’s cruel, isn’t it?”

It was such a shame how Sera had spent the past few months being hellbent on keeping Satoru by her side and convincing herself that he was the only man she could ever end up with. Why did she even believe such a thing? Naoya was here and he was a far better partner than Satoru could ever be. He listened to her, he appreciated her, he adored her… Sera should have just fallen in love with him instead of wasting all of her time on a man who was so easy to disregard her.

With all that in mind, her emotions drove her to press her lips on top of Naoya’s soft ones. She was kissing him without shame, kissing him with ardor, with gratitude. They were exploring each other’s mouths, engulfing the sweet taste of their tongue rolling against one another. She was unbuttoning his shirt, undoing his pants, pleasing him with all that she can because the feeling of being intimate with this man gave her the distraction that she needed. Naoya had become the antidote from the poison that nearly killed her heart and she was submitting herself to him with the belief that she should have been doing all this with him long before she allowed her life to be ruined by an ex-boyfriend who betrayed her love. Perhaps Naoya was her salvation. But with the way he pinned her against the wall and roughly sucked on the soft spot on her neck, his actions made her realize that he could be another form of damnation, too. He was heaven and hell. A sinner and a saint.

“N-Naoya.” First, his name escaped her lips with a soft, wanton moan.

The next, she was on her knees being pounded on by the man who glorified her body with praises she had never heard from her ex-boyfriend before. He fucked her like there was no tomorrow and paid no mercy at destroying her with the fast movements of his hips. While his nails left crescent marks on her flesh, it was added by the burning stretch on her scalp when he pulled her hair and met her buttocks with hard thrusts.

It was only then until Sera realized that the only way to be free from Satoru was to show him that someone of the same status could accept her for who she was.

About twenty-three miles away from the Zen’in estate, Satoru Gojou was in his penthouse delighting on the rollercoaster ride of having a pregnant wife and he would start it off by saying that he doesn’t ever want to get off this ride.

But before he would go to the good parts, there was something that had temporarily halted your domestic romance. The topic about Sera was still fresh and rumors in the office were varying for the most part because not everyone had directly heard his encounter with the ex-lover who tried to harm his child except for the security guards and the other two receptionists. Satoru was a volcano that exploded in front of Sera and he was spouting words like basaltic magma without paying attention to his surroundings because he was far too driven by the magnitude of his emotions. To think of it, how else would anyone expect a father and husband to react when someone tried to deliberately cause his wife’s miscarriage? He wasn’t overreacting. Protective maybe, but also reasonable without a doubt. A cup of chamomile tea would not instantly kill his child—it was the intention behind harming an innocent baby that made Satoru seethe in anger the most. Because if he had been lenient to Sera, what more unforgivable things could she have done in the future?

He gave Sera the benefit of the doubt for so long because he was the reason she was becoming a monster in the first place. He let her hit him, curse at him, and be all kinds of nasty to him in exchange for keeping his wife away from her rage. But that vile act she committed in the office? It was the last fucking straw.

Though, now that his volcano had exploded, he was back to his quiescence.

“I can’t believe she did that,” he voiced out his thoughts. In a bathtub at nine in the evening was where he lay still with a wife whose back was pressed against his toned chest. He had his arms around you, lips on your temple while his fingers were tracing your curve underwater. The fluff of white bubbles hugged your figure as you leaned back on his bare front and snuggled on his neck. “I was so angry. I felt like I was gonna be violent for once.”

The water reached up to his wife’s breasts, covering the slope of your flesh with suds. Even though the thought of Sera was still clouding his mind like an oncoming thunderstorm, your presence was what kept his mind calm.

“Don’t do that,” you reminded. “No matter how angry you are, violence isn’t the way to go.” You then pulled both of his hands and placed his palms directly on your tummy so he could feel your growing bump. The aroma of vanilla that came from the scented candles seemed to have made you drowsy and the cozy position you were in made things even more intimate.

Satoru wouldn’t even deny it. He loved bathing with you. He loved hot showers in the morning just as he loved your lazy bathtub sessions at night because it was considered quality time between a husband and wife. His heart had never felt this much bliss until he began sharing this domestic set-up with you and there was nothing in this world that could make him exchange all these little moments for anything else.

So instead of paying attention to the ex-girlfriend who nearly put his wife in danger, he decided that it was best to pamper you with love and affection. Sera had no place in his heart and mind now. Surely, you two still had plenty of time to talk about her uncalled for actions some other day when you weren’t prone to angina attacks because of extreme stress.

“Let’s not talk about her.” For your sake and his.

You looked up and offered a smile. “Okay. Why don’t we just talk about you, Mr. Gojou?” You pulled yourself up and had your husband holding your hand for support until you were able to straddle his lap. He must admit that it was a little stimulating how your knees brushed on his member as you moved. Or how big your breasts had gotten now that he had a full frontal view of them. “—up? Are you listening?”

Fuck. No, he absolutely wasn’t. In fact, he was only pretending when he cleared his throat and let his calloused fingers find your waist. “What were you saying?”

You may have rolled your eyes, but you still let your palms roam around his shoulders and in return made him chuckle. “I said, how do you think we should celebrate your birthday since it’s coming up?”

Satoru wouldn’t even have remembered his own birthday until you reminded him about it. All his mind could focus on was one question: who is this goddess of a wife? You must have come from another planet because there was no way a person could look as beautiful as you. Just everything—your eyes, your lips, your neck, your collarbones, your round tits, your delicious curves, your growing bump, your plump folds that were grinding against his thigh… Hold on, grinding?

He took a deep breath to keep himself together and held your hips as he forced his mind to think straight. Yes, your underwater mischief was certainly not an imagination. It seemed that you were indeed discreetly grinding your sweet pussy against his left thigh while placing a hand on his chest with doe eyes that feigned innocence.

“It’s just that…” Your chest rose up and down as you continued to undulate your hips by using his thigh to pleasure you. “You know, Ieiri called me this morning asking about my health and all, then she asked me if we had plans for your birthday since she didn’t want me to exhaust myself.”

Fine, Satoru would have to say that he was a loser at playing the no-touch game. He just couldn’t help his hands from traveling up to your chest, squeezing your breasts together before latching his mouth onto one nipple. He could hear your soft breathing when his tongue played with your bud—nipping, suckling, kissing. “Whatever you want, baby,” his voice was an octave deeper when he spoke before moving his mouth to your other bosom to give it the same attention as he did with your left one. “As long as I get to spend it with you. I don’t want you to tire yourself out just to celebrate it.”

You arched your back and gripped a fistful of white hair from the back of his head, clearly pleased by the skillful tongue that made your nipples a lot more perkier than before. “Mm.. Okay. How about a y-yacht cruise? With your best friends.”

By the time his mouth wandered off to your collarbones to leave hickeys everywhere, he could feel your hand reaching for the head of his now-throbbing cock that had become rock hard underwater. “Good idea,” he answered, marking your body while you began stroking his length. You tightened your hand around his thick girth, sliding your fist with ease because the water provided the lubrication that you needed. Satoru was already satisfied to fuck your pretty hand because he couldn’t risk rutting into you until you were out of breath. “Fuck, baby. Do you think we should—?”

“I can take it.” Dammit. The determination in your voice aroused him more than he already was. Along with the desperation in your eyes and the moans that left your parted mouth, your handjob skills seemed to have improved even underwater. He recognized that haze in your eyes, one that reflected the image of an animal in heat. It was taking over you. “Satoru, I want you. I’m going crazy here.”

Best part of pregnancy hormones? A very horny mommy.

It even looked like you would cry if he didn’t give it to you tonight. Satoru felt like he hit the jackpot with this and the way you were blatantly expressing your sexual needs was turning him on tenfold. “You’re so hot.” So hot and all his. So pregnant with his baby, too. “You want me to do what? Give me the specifics, honey.”

“I want your cock.” Goddamn were you straight to the point! Your enclosed hand tightened around his shaft, pumping him in the same pace and rhythm to how you rubbed your needy pussy on his thigh. “I want it in my mouth. Please… daddy? Can I please suck you?”

That kink of yours. Or was it his? Technically, he was a DILF-in-training so calling him ‘daddy’ did make sense. Still, how you desperately begged to have him just sent his ego up the ceiling.

And now that he mentioned it, his cute, sexy wife was a MILF, too.

“Why are you laughing?” Your eyebrows knitted in annoyance, and the hand that was pumping his cock was now hitting his chest. “What’s so funny?”

Satoru grinned and shook his head, grabbing your nape and smashing his peachy lips onto yours. There was a vibration from the hum that you released before you enveloped your lips around his, opening up to let his tongue invade every corner of your mouth. While both of your hands found their way to do the job on his cock again, his own hand cupped your pussy to rub your folds and separate the labia using his two fingers. Your cunt was plump and wet—regardless of the fact that your body was half-submerged on the tub—and Satoru was going feral at the thought of how good it must feel to fuck a pregnant pussy. He tested your tightness by inserting one finger through your hole and your walls were already clenching at a single slender finger. How much more if his cock was seven inch deep inside of you?

“Shit, baby. I might destroy you,” he breathed through your mouth, gasping before you tilted your head to shove your own tongue as deep as you possibly could. It was clear that you didn’t care because you were humping on his palm when he resumed orchestrating circular motions on your clit. You bit his lower lip as you twitched from the sensory overload and was left with no choice but to press your palms against his toned pecs. “Like that?”

“Fuck. Fuck. Yes,” you were moaning without a pause, closing your eyes to shut down all other senses except for the one down there. Since when did you even cuss this much? It was sexy. So fucking sexy. Your breasts were glistening under the ambient light as you threw your head back to savor the feeling of your husband’s fingers on your slick entrance. Satoru was at a loss of words upon seeing the sex goddess that he had unknowingly summoned and he was even more excited at pleasing his better half until you were whimpering and pushing his hand away. “Satoru, w-wait.”

“Hm?” He kissed your lips and pulled away with a smooching sound. By then, the wife was gesticulating her pointer finger upwards and commanding him to get up. Oh. It was daddy’s time. “Wait, babe. I got suds on my dick.”

You were both chuckling while he stood up and reached for the shower head, turning it on and allowing the water pressure to remove all of the suds on his pelvis and his cock. He used the showerhead to clean your now soap-free hands before he returned it back to its place, repositioning himself in front of a kneeling wife who looked up at him with docility and had him releasing traces of precum on his swollen pink tip. Imagine the view: he was towering over you, a seven-inch cock right above your face until you wrapped your hand near the base and laid your tongue flat on the skin under his length. You licked him from one corner to another as if you were an amateur pornstar who had done it countless times before. “This,” you referred to his dick, “is mine.”

“All yours, baby.” And with a mischievous smile at that.

No, actually, he was losing his mind. His frenzy was knocking at his door, ready to come out and fuck his wife all throughout the night. But the thing was, he couldn’t. You weren’t physically capable to handle marathon sex anymore. Gone were the days where he would spend his weekends trying out all these different sex positions with you. How has the time flown so fast?

“You’re so big,” you spoke breathlessly, swirling your tongue around his head before you proceeded to suck the precum off the slit. Good girl. He guided your face by touching your cheek, watching how you sucked him like a lollipop until you buried his cock into your mouth inch by inch. Slowly, slowly… holy shit!

“B-Babe,” he held his breath, eyes finding the ceiling to release his guttural moans. “Fuck, yeah.”

You were gagging on his shaft as you tried to fit all of his length down your throat, drool escaping the corners of your mouth while your uvula was being penetrated by his hardened member. The walls of your mouth were warm and tight—sending him into an orbit of immense pleasure as you began sucking your husband’s cock with your seemingly improved blowjob skills. He didn’t realize that he was roughly pulling your hair until he looked down and saw you teasingly batting your eyelashes up at him with hollow cheeks that acted as a suction to his twitching cock.

Well, you didn’t stop there. While Satoru was busy running his fingers through his white hair and throwing his head back with each salacious suck you did, you were on your knees bringing your lips on the tip of his cock before opening your mouth wide enough to suck him all the way to the base. Damn, you were deepthroating. At this point, your eyes were tearing up, your chin was against his bollocks, your nose was pressed on pelvis—did you hate it? No. Your face showed just how much you absolutely loved every second of it.

“Baby... That’s deep.” He couldn’t restrain the moans that flew out of his mouth left and right.

But when you released his cock with a pop, you continued pumping him with your hand and gave him the sexiest order he had ever heard from you. “Fuck my mouth and shoot your cum down my throat. I want every drop of it.”

Wide, sapphire eyes stared at you in surprise. Was he really talking to Mrs. Y/N Gojou right now? Was this woman really his wife? Before he could answer his own questions, you were already gripping his wrist and encouraging him hold your head in preparation for the face-fucking that you eagerly requested. “Shit. Are you sure?”

He got his confirmation when you licked the outline of his veins with a subtle grin. So that settled it then—mommy wants daddy’s cock, and who was he to deprive you of it? Just as you wished, he let his member enter your mouth while he gripped your head and angled it in a position where he could see his bulge on your cheek appearing and disappearing. He couldn’t help but display a playful grin at how he penetrated your inner cheek before he finally adjusted his cock down your throat. You already had a head start so there was no point at stalling things further when he slammed himself inside of your mouth in between rough thrusts. Each jostle was a gag from you and a low grunt from him, allowing a series of cuss words to ricochet off the tiled walls of your bathroom.

“Mm—!”

Just look at his wife. You didn’t even close your eyes when he fucked your mouth the way he would to your cunt, and despite the intrusion in your uvula, you were learning how to stretch your mouth around his cock in order to allow his penetration to go deep. Both of your hands were latching onto his knees to keep your balance and he could see the shape of your beautiful tits from the view he had up above.

His birthday was still in two days, but this already felt like an early gift.

“Fuck. Baby, fuck. That’s it.”

“Mm—mm!”

As soon as there was a coil of pleasure building up in his lower abdomen, he instantly knew that the next few seconds would end up with him shooting his load down to your throat. There was a wave of pleasure that washed his entire body and it wasn’t because of the water that surrounded you two, but because of the amount of semen he had ejaculated into your mouth.

“You’re so good, mommy.” He showered you with praises before he pulled out and saw you swallowing his warm seed like an obedient girl.

But to think that he had successfully done his job, he was wrong. You got up and crashed your lips onto his, wrapping your arms around your husband’s neck and pressing your chest on his toned ones while you two tasted each other’s mouth. Upon pulling away to catch your breath, that babyish pout and those pleading eyes of yours were back. “My turn, please?”

Satoru tucked a few strands of wet hair behind your ear concurrent to how he kneaded your bum with his other free hand. “You want me to eat you out, hm?”

“No,” you tugged his wrists. “I want you to fuck me. Hard and fast like usual.”

He was going to faint here. What and how the hell could he ever satiate such a needy wife? He had just released a huge amount of cum, and now another round was requested of him—not that he minded, but… was it safe?

“Can’t do hard and fast, mommy. Not safe for little munchkin,” he said, earning his wife’s displeasure. “And what if you run out of breath? You might get an angina attack.”

“But I can take it!” you whined, stepping out of the tub to leave your husband like a kid who was denied of her favorite candy.

Gojou chased you out of the tub and followed your footsteps when you headed towards the bathroom’s vanity and dried yourself up with a towel. “Okay, how about this,” he bargained, looking at your reflection on the mirror as he stood behind you, “we’ll have sex, but I’ll do it nice and slow. You have to tell me the minute your chest feels tight so I know when to stop.”

“Okay.” You faced him again, brushing your thumb on his lower lip before you gave him a soft, open-mouthed kiss. “Let’s do it.”

The question was: should he take you from the back or on the front? Satoru would consider the pros and cons here because he didn’t want to risk your health just for the sake of having sex with you.

If he took you from the back…

Pros:

You get to look at the mirror and watch him rawdog you from behind

He gets to see your ass

Cons:

He can’t hit it deep

He can’t kiss you

He can’t stare at your breasts

He can’t go nice and slow in this position

Your legs might give up if you stand for too long

If you did missionary above the vanity…

Pros:

He can be gentler with his pace

He can kiss you

He can watch all of you

You can lay your back against the mirror and let him do all of the job

He can see his cock going deep in and out of your cunt (What a dirty mind, Satoru!)

Cons:

You can’t see your goddess self in the mirror

No, there weren’t many cons here

The winner was obvious and he decided by himself without asking you of what you wanted because he could already tell that you would choose being fucked like a slut with how horny you were. But nope, not a chance, baby. He had to be gentle with his fragile wife.

So without a word, he hooked his forearms under your legs and hoisted you up above the vanity. “Satoru?” you asked, allowing him to spread your legs apart and give him a better view of your dripping pussy. He craved you just like how you craved him. The only difference was how he could still control himself while you were getting needier by the second.

“Is your back comfortable? Want me to put a towel behind you?” As soon as you nodded, he snatched the thickest rolled towel that he could find from the cupboard and placed it behind your back to offer as a cushion. Soon after, he leaned down to give you a soft kiss on the lips before he started trailing kisses on your neck, collarbone, and breasts—oh, this beautiful, tender pair. He suckled on one nipple and onto the other, flicking his tongue on the nub before he pulled away and began fondling the rounded mass and jiggling them playfully. “You’re the sexiest.”

You giggled, hands pressed atop the cold marble surface of the vanity. “Even when my tummy’s getting round?”

“Even if you get thrice as big,” he agreed, glancing at your belly and noticing how firm and round it had become. My baby’s in there. What if the next Einstein was from his own sperm? He was chuckling to himself at the thought before he planted kisses all over your small bump, speaking to his kid as though it could hear him. “Mommy and I will make love, so just sleep in there, okay? It’s rated X over here.”

Now it was time to start working. After attaching his lips onto your stomach, he moved away only to let two fingers rub your slick pussy. He stretched your labia and ejected his spit to use it as an added lubricant for your soaking entrance. “S-Satoru.” That’s it, baby. Moan for daddy. He was smirking before he dived in and encased his mouth on your pussy lips, French kissing the most sensitive part of your body by lapping it up with the use of his tongue. Your taste was his rhapsody and your mewls were just as dulcet. If your voice had a flavor, it would be sweet. Mellifluous. And your pussy? Heaven. Better than any other man could have in their lifetime. “A-Aah, m-more!”

His tongue was rolling inside of your core, lavishing the taste of your slick-coated cunt before he moved his wet muscle to your outer labia. Because your hole was free again, he inserted two fingers deep into your entrance all while his tongue played with your clitoris and its hood. Satoru was pretty good at multitasking, wasn’t he? Your legs were already shaking and he hasn’t even used his cock yet. Speaking of which, that cock of his had grown back to its glory and was pulsating because of how eager he was to be inside of you.

But back to his wife. Yes, his gorgeous, angelic wife who had her back against the mirror and her legs spread apart for the father of her child. You took the chance to grab a handful of your husband’s white hair when he simultaneously spoiled you with oral sex with two fingers deep inside of you. “Satoru, I-I c-can’t hold it in,” you begged, voice as shaky as your legs. “P-Please, fuck me.”

“Patience, honey,” he playfully reprimanded, but still doing as told by detaching his mouth from ravaging your cunt and withdrawing his fingers that were now sticky with your juices. He showed you how he sucked your slick from his digits before he positioned himself with your legs wrapped around his waist. However, maybe it would be fun to see how even more vocal you would become if he stalled things a little. “On second thought, daddy wants to hear more.”

You looked at him, confused. “What are you—baby, please. Don’t make me wait.” Your eyes gleamed in arousal. “Please, all of your cock inside me. Now.”

“How’s your breathing?”

“Fine!”

“Your heart?”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about it, just…”

“How about your belly? Tight?”

“I said I’m okay!”

“You look like you’re about to cry. Can’t wait to have daddy’s cock?”

He knew what he was doing and he was a menace for it. You were already falling desperate to have him fill you up, but because he decided to have this little game, you went ahead and touched yourself as revenge. “Fuck you.”

The pearly whites of his teeth were visible as he grinned. “Oh, wife’s got a voyeurism kink, huh?” he teased, watching how you used your own fingers to make circular movements on your clit. He was getting hard just by seeing you touching yourself and he wanted to give you the same pleasurable view of your own. “In that case, I’ll join you.”

You were biting on your lip to prevent louder moans from coming out as you continued to play with yourself. He, on the other hand, was pumping his length because jerking off to a wife who was now fingering herself seemed like the naughtiest type of foreplay you two had ever done. “Satoru, please.”

“Yes, baby. Give me a minute.” He fucked his fist to the thought of you, grabbing your boob and squeezing it before he finally allowed his fat cock to meet your aching pussy. At first, he lubricated his shaft by grinding it between your folds, and with the assurance of being wet enough to enter your core, he sunk his swollen head in your moistened entrance and released a groan that came straight from his gut. “Ah—shit! You feel so tight.”

“Nngh!” You held onto the vanity and watched how your husband began moving inside of you. In ten seconds, half of his cock was in. In twenty, he was nearing the base. In a minute, his pelvis was finally pressed against your pubic region. “Satoru!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked because it was fucking good, but it might not be for you. “Tell me and I’ll adjust.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no. It’s good. Please move.”

He was a simple man. He listened to his wife and obeyed her words if he saw no harm. The funny thing was, this situation made it look like it was the first time that you two were being intimate when you have already done it more than the days a calendar could offer. How else would a cute munchkin get inside mommy’s womb if not for the amount of lovemaking that you did before?

As much as he missed rutting into you at an animalistic pace, he could only do slow but rhythmic thrusts. Nonetheless, every slam made your breasts bounce and your velvet walls were clenching around his girth as though you were milking him of his cum.

“Y-Yeah, j-just like that!” Your dulcet moans were orgasmic to his ears and he spoiled you with a kiss on the lips before he increased his speed. “A-Aah—!”

Your hands held onto the surface for support, eyes on the ceiling as you allowed your husband to fuck your body with continuous slams. He could see the marks he had left on your chest turning purple and anyone would see those marks if you ever decided to wear an outfit with a plunging neckline. You were the canvas to his art of love and your body was the painting that reflected his passion.

Even more, Satoru was blessed with the sight of his wife’s swollen cunt that was adjusting to every ridge of his cock as your body naturally reacted to your husband with familiarity. Blotches of white liquid were staining his length and more of it had come out when you creamed all over his cock without preparation.

“Fuck!”

“Satoru, I-I’m cumming.”

“Me, too.”

And neither of you two saw it coming. Your back was arching, toes curling, knees shaking as he continued to ram himself into you through your overstimulation. There was no sign of a racing heart nor an oxygen deprived lungs so he enjoyed the exploding feeling of his own orgasm that made him release thick ropes of cum straight to your cervix. The steady rhythm had fallen sloppy and your face had morphed into both pleasure and relief. Along with the convulsive sensation that filled you to the brim, you were finally sated and pleased with the exchange of sensual gratification that your ever-so-generous husband had just given you.

“I love you,” he didn’t forget to say, kissing your lips before he pulled out.

If anyone was wondering, his wife was here. Beautifully naked. Radiant from the post-sex glow. Limp and reasonably exhausted. And most of all, pregnant from the husband that loved her with every fiber of his being.

You could no longer enjoy your wifely duties ever since Satoru hired an army of maids into your penthouse. Although they gave you privacy when needed, the simple household chores such as cleaning the house, folding laundry, and even cooking could no longer be done by you. You were handled with utmost care and were not allowed to do strenuous activities that could lead your body to fatigue. Frankly, all of this made you miss being your husband’s actual housewife instead of the queen bee he had turned you into your 72nd-floor beehive.

The only time you were only able to do more effort than intended was when you were possessed by a sex goddess last night (to which you were so embarrassed for the next morning, to which your husband also teased you for until afternoon). Satoru only decided that it was better to shut his mouth when you started glaring at him, deeming it safer not to mess with a pregnant wife.

But overall, he couldn’t exactly decline you when you asked if he could join you in grocery shopping that day.

“We have chefs,” he reasoned at first, “and we have maids who can go through the grocery list.”

Your response to his argument was to say that it would make you happy if he could just let you do it. You wanted to do it. He, as a husband, should let you do it.

“You get so overprotective sometimes,” you said, clinging to his arm as he pushed the shopping cart into the fresh produce section. Ah, more fruits and vegetables. You should have expected that.

“You can’t blame me. I just want you and baby safe,” was his reply, stopping when you reached the section of apples ranging from granny smith’s to fuji’s. He checked each apple with careful eyes as though he was thinking of which between the two similar fruits was better for you. Did he study a list of food that was good for pregnant women? His mom must have provided him with all the information he needed.

Satoru deserved a kiss on the cheek and so you gave him exactly that while he was busy choosing from the apples among the many selections they offered in this store—all of which made you realize, as cheesy as it might be, that the apple of his eye was you. “Fine, I like it when you’re protective.”

He brought his lips to your temple and rubbed your baby bump with his hand. “I’d be an angry tiger if anyone tries to harm mama cat.”

“Silly.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you then moved to the next section.

Something that you had noticed whenever you were out with your husband was how people would always send you looks of interest. It was either they recognized Satoru ‘the famous handsome heir’ or they simply loved how you two exuded a lovey-dovey couple’s image. He had gotten used to the attention he was receiving because he was a magnet that attracted it way before you were his betrothed, but because you were now his wife, everyone had also started to pay close attention to you. You could never forget how one person from Twitter just said, ‘They’re such an attractive couple. Their baby would look like an angel,” and the sweet message made you all the more excited to meet your little munchkin.

“Oh, can I get this roasted sesame dressing for my salad?” you inquired your husband who looked attractive with his grey pants and half-unbuttoned white shirt from work.

He assessed the Kewpie bottle before giving a go signal. Or no signal in this case. “Contains mayonnaise. You can’t.”

“Hey!” you complained. “Only homemade mayonnaise is bad for me. This is commercial made. It’s completely safe.”

His sigh sounded like he didn’t want to give in. “Fine. We can deal with that.”

This man… You shook your head in disapproval. You swore to God, you would make him run to a convenience store at two in the morning to get the most random food and play it off as a craving if he decided to be strict with what you ate. He even lessened the junk food in your walk-in pantry because excessive sodium was bad for your health, especially for your heart. But who said anything about ‘excessive’? You were fine to eat a pack of Cheetos or two.

You two continued walking along the aisle while you had your hand on your stomach—something that you were instinctively doing to make sure that your baby could feel your presence. And all was fine and dandy until your husband entered a specific aisle.

Teas and coffees.

Something just snapped inside of him. The gentle, playful face that he was plastering earlier was now replaced by anger and frustration. The memory of Sera’s spiteful actions brought a sense of unfulfilled revenge from Satoru and you were about to tell him to let it go until he pulled his phone out and dialed a specific number.

“Miwa,” he greeted in a low voice, turning around and pretending to look at the row of coffees in front of him. “Do you have access to the company’s scholarship grants?”

You stood there behind the cart in silence. Scholarship?

Satoru spoke to his secretary again. “Yeah, I need you to terminate the one under Jiro Iwasaki. He doesn’t need it anymore.”

Iwasaki. That was Sera’s last name. Was that person related to her? He must be, because there was no doubt that Satoru was doing that as a payback to his ex-girlfriend who tried to deliberately harm his unborn child.

You didn’t speak up until he ended the call and looked at you as if nothing happened.

“Babe, let’s go—”

“Who’s Jiro to Sera?” you questioned, carefully watching the mask of austerity that casted his face.

He avoided your eyes and kept a stolid mien. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Satoru,” you adjusted the tone of your voice as a warning, “you know what’ll happen if you don’t answer me straight.”

You two would argue here in a very public place if need be. He seemed to understand that there was no way out of this except to be honest. “He’s Sera’s brother. I haven’t met him, but my dad offered him a scholarship so Sera would stay away from me.”

“Why are you punishing the poor boy?” You crossed your arms and earned his sigh. “Sera hasn’t been the nicest, but who knows how much that scholarship means to her brother? He has nothing to do with this. Don’t ruin a harmless person’s life.”

“She tried to ruin yours,” he countered despite your resolute voice. “And my child’s harmless too, isn’t he? But what did she do? She’s probably planning to put your life in danger. She should take this as a lesson.”

You chose not to argue with him further for your peace of mind because Satoru could never be convinced to take it easy on Sera. In the end, you couldn’t really blame him. He felt betrayed and he was scared for the safety of his baby, especially at the rate of her anger. It was understandable how he hired more bodyguards to keep an eye on you because sometimes people could do crazy things when they’re overtaken by rage, but wasn’t he the best example of that? Had he forgotten Bora Bora?

Little did he know, you called Miwa later that night to ask for more information about Sera’s brother. Your husband’s secretary promised not to tell him that you asked about it because she understood what you were trying to do. After all, she was in a situation where she had siblings to care about, too.

With a plan set in mind, you dialed your own trusted assistant to silently lay out your instructions while your husband was busy talking to the chefs. “Hi, Akari. Can you maybe award Jiro Iwasaki with a scholarship grant under my name? He studies at the University of Tokyo.”

Toji normally followed a consistent daily schedule that was already packed throughout the week. Everyone in the building knew that if they wanted to speak to the CEO, the appointment must be booked and the earliest he would be available would be the following week. His job was hectic and time was gold. God, how original was that motto? But it was true. Every second mattered and he wasn’t the type of man who would waste his time lingering around on a weekday and not dealing with important business matters.

Yet here he was, making an exception for his good friend.

Gen was in dire straits. He knew the moment she asked to meet up for a ‘quick chat’ at the café near their office that she was going to talk about anything else but business. This woman could handle a financial conglomerate all on her own so why would she need Toji’s help? The obvious answer: it was about you.

He had been colleagues with Gen since college and he was familiar with how protective of a sister she could be. Only her family could put stress on her face, that crease on her forehead, that inverted slope on her lips—yup, she wasn’t the least bit happy.

“Everything alright?” he asked over a cup of hot brewed coffee and freshly baked croissants. They had specifically chosen a spot saved for the VIPs, one that was usually reserved for private meetings since this café was in the heart of the central business district.

Gen stared at the table with an empty gaze. She seemed to be thinking deeply before she looked up and met his eyes. “Toji, can I trust you with information that you can never, ever share with anyone?”

Here we go. He could already tell what it was about without Gen specifically disclosing it to him. In fact, her question was just for formality. She had already put enough trust to even meet with him here. “Go ahead. You have my word.”

“About my sister,” she didn’t hesitate to cut to the chase, drawing a deep breath and releasing it into a weary exhale, “I know you and her have this connection that I wasn’t expecting you guys to have. You know, she doesn’t have that many guy friends so I take it she trusts you completely for her to stick around.”

He gave a nod as a response. “Why? Something going on with her?”

Gen opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Only empty sighs and eyes that glanced over the window as though the answer to her dilemma was to stare at the men and women in business attires who were walking on the street. After a minute of contemplation, she finally returned her gaze back to him and spilled her mind, “I got someone to investigate on Satoru and there’s just… I learned so much about him.”

“Good or bad?” he asked, pretending not to know.

“Mostly bad.” Gen was obviously feeling tense. “He has a mistress.”

Toji’s breathing was static for a good minute. “Had,” he clarified, much to her surprise. “Not anymore.”

“So y-you knew?” Her eyes had become round. “Y/N told you, huh? Oh my, God. I feel so stupid. I knew it, I knew she was going to confide in you because she was scared that I’d be lashing out at Satoru if she told me. I can’t believe I treated that bastard like my own brother!”

As a man himself, he couldn’t really speak ill about another woman’s husband because this wasn’t his marriage. “Gen, I’m not really in the position to be your sister’s spokesperson.”

Although your sister was smiling, the tension on her face was still there. It was the most vivid expression that could be read on her face. “I know, and I’m sorry for wasting your time on this. I’m just on a deadend right now. I can’t speak to my dad about this yet. I can’t confront Satoru directly because heaven knows what I would do. Then there’s my sister, she’s in her first trimester. It’s gonna stress her out and I promised myself that whatever I find out about her husband’s affair, I’ll keep it to myself until the time’s ready. I already suspected that he was cheating on her, but confirming it really disgusted me.”

“You’ve only heard one side of the story,” he considered, keeping a neutral voice as he spoke. Toji guessed that Gen’s knowledge did not exactly reach the part where her sister was suffering a heart condition because otherwise she would have mentioned it by now.

“I honestly don’t need to hear Satoru’s side of the story,” she spat while gripping the coffee mug tighter. “He hated the marriage, cheated on my sister out of spite, probably treated her like shit the whole time. You know how I found out? Someone tipped me to speak to Mei Mei, their finance director. I run the finance industry in this country so imagine how easy it was for me to get her to spill all the things she knows. How he was dating his father’s previous secretary, how he brought her to Bora Bora along with my sister, how he apparently took her to a hospital thinking she was pregnant. He deserves none of my sympathy!”

Any normal person would think that Gen was being petty for revealing Satoru’s scandals to his biggest company rival. Why? Because Toji could easily use this information and ruin Gojou’s image to the public. Just one anonymous word to the media and the Gojou Group would foresee a massive drop on the stock market. While that may be true, Gen was actually being smart. She knew that Toji's loyalty was where common sense lies. She was aware that if he wanted to ruin Satoru, he would have done it long ago because you’ve basically revealed the downsides of your marriage to him since your first encounter at the auction. But see, even if he had been aware of your husband’s shortcomings—his neglect, his infidelity, his greed—Toji stayed in his lane and never let himself get caught in the middle. That was why Gen found the assurance to tell him everything that she was able to gather from her little research.

“So what do you plan to do?” he inquired because he couldn’t exactly comment about your marriage. “Y/N’s health is top priority. She has a baby. You don’t wanna risk her.”

Not just because she’s pregnant, but also because she has a fragile heart, he silently thought while hoping that Gen would do the right thing.

Thankfully, she seemed to understand her boundaries. “No, I’ll deal with it behind the scenes. First, I wanna know who the mistress is. Then I’ll consult my husband about the legal consequences that Satoru could face on the grounds of a divorce if my sister ever ends up deciding on it. She told me she’s not thinking about a divorce anymore, but I’ll have everything prepared in case she changes her mind. I’ll eventually pull out our investments from the Gojou Group, too.”

Toji surely loved the sight of this businesswoman getting her work done impeccably. Maki and Mai should learn from her. Of course, Gen of all people would make sure that her family’s assets would not be affected by being one step ahead, but a small part of him also wondered about this, “What if Y/N never pursues a divorce?”

“That’s exactly my problem,” she admitted, slumping. “Look, our families will never be the same. I can’t look at him the same anymore. I can solve math easily, but what I can’t understand is why my sister would stay with someone who treats her like that.”

He smiled. “There’s no equation to her reasoning,” he told her straight to the point. “It’s love. Regardless if they have a baby, regardless if he used to neglect her as a wife, we don’t know what else they shared within their marriage. We know the ugly parts of it, but do we know the good parts? Do we know what kind of connection they must have shared for him to suddenly have a change of heart? It’s not a one way street. If you count the number of terrible things he might’ve done, you should also think of the positive efforts he willingly showed her. Your sister thinks that way—she’s handing out hope and sympathy like they’re flyers.”

The only reaction Gen could express was to massage her temple and think it through. “I understand she has an altruistic nature, but I can’t help but be worried. I want her to realize that it’s okay to take a step back if she’s being wronged. She just needs to escape that strong connection she has with him.”

“That’s gonna be difficult,” his honesty was better said than not. “I always see them like this. She’s the star and he’s the black hole. Gravity attracts her to him and once she’s sucked into that void, it makes him inescapable.”

Was that a good analogy? Toji felt like he had been way too poetic with that one.

“You’re right. That’s basically how they are ever since they were kids,” she claimed, nodding to herself while possibly recalling her childhood memories. “It’s sad because Satoru loved her so much back then so I don’t know why he would do these things to her now.”

He offered a shrug. “Experiences can change a person.”

Toji didn’t think that Gen would suddenly widen her eyes as though she just remembered something from his words. And as soon as she recollected her thoughts, she was quick to speak up. “There’s actually something else I found out about Satoru,” she revealed in intrigue, “his stepmother was sabotaging him all this time. She was paying Mei Mei to do all the dirty work and oust him from becoming the CEO. Remember that project he had planned for the Art Museum? Construction almost started, but he couldn’t finalize it because the allotted budget was miscalculated so his father got furious.”

He, too, was a businessman. He could understand how tough and pressuring it was to run a conglomerate especially if you were the sole heir, so for Satoru to have all these nasty people sabotaging his business plans, it was beyond unbelievable. But then again, it must be the taste of his own karma. Satoru was still young and could learn from his mistakes, but what he should also watch out for was the people he was closely dealing with. A suffering husband would bring a suffering wife down with him. Toji couldn’t let you go through that much stress.

“I think you should deal with this the right way, Gen,” he advised, once and for all. “You discovered so many things about him. If you wanna confront Satoru, it might be best to keep your sister out of it.”

How ironic was it that while he was talking to your sister, he suddenly received a text message with your name on the notification?

You: Hey, Toji! :) I’m here on 4th Street. Can I meet up with you quickly?

You: I just have to drop off my very overdue gifts for Maki, Mai, and Megumi

Right. It had been awhile since he last saw you, hasn’t he? Toji looked up at Gen and told her the sudden situation. “Gen, I think Y/N’s coming here right now to see me.”

“What—” The woman panicked and scrambled to reach for her bag. “No, I can’t be seen here with you. I told her I’m gonna be too busy all day. I just can’t face her right now or else I’ll—”

“Run your mouth?” chuckled Toji, nodding understandingly. “It’s okay. You definitely shouldn’t talk to her while you’re still overwhelmed.”

Gen nodded in agreement, getting up from her seat and gesturing her leave. “Okay, well I’m gonna go back to my office now. I trust you, Toji.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he promised, watching as the CEO of Creston left in haste with the click and clack of her heels echoing through the distance.

Toji had to wait until Gen had completely left before he deemed that the coast was clear. And it didn’t really take long for you to arrive after he texted you his exact location, except he wasn’t expecting another man’s presence along with yours.

That said man was none other than the white-haired, blue-eyed husband that was the main topic between his and Gen’s conversation not more than a few minutes ago. There were two things he found strange here: firstly, since when did Gojou accompany you while meeting up with him? Second, why wasn’t he showing any signs of animosity? Toji could still remember how the man threw a tantrum when he picked you up at the Zen’in estate last time, and although many things had happened since then, he didn’t think that Satoru would look like a tamed animal next to his wife.

“Toji, hey!” As for you, his heart softened when he saw that bright smile on your face. That smile where your cheekbones were prominent and your eyes were shining. Your bump wasn’t visible underneath your coat dress, but it was definitely there. He concluded that you must be having a happy pregnancy because your radiance was blinding. “Oh, were you with someone?”

He cleared his throat, noticing how your eyes scanned the seat, and realizing that Gen’s coffee mug was still there. “Ah, that… I had a meeting with an investor,” he played it off before acknowledging your husband who pulled a seat for you. “Hey, how are things?”

Satoru took his seat next to you with an arm secured behind your backrest. “Been better. My wife wanted to see you and I had to keep an eye on her.”

“For what?” Toji quipped. “She’s not gonna cheat on you.”

With a deep breath, the white-haired man restrained the visible jealousy building inside of him. Why did Satoru not get angry? Was it because of the hand you placed on his lap? Or perhaps the way you might have squeezed his hand under the table? “It’s not that. She’s pregnant and fragile. I have to make sure she won’t be collapsing out of nowhere.”

Oh. For a moment, Toji traded looks with you as if you two could understand each other’s thoughts telepathically. The nod you sent him gave him the idea that Satoru was already aware of your heart condition. No wonder he was protective, but how exactly did that conversation go? He suspected that it was a heartfelt moment for the man to realize how much his wife was suffering because of him. Toji had been there. Toji could understand the fear of losing a wife.

“Well, it’s good that you’re keeping an eye on her,” he told your husband before he turned his head towards you. How was it that he couldn’t resist having a soft heart with just one look at your face? “Congratulations on the baby.”

He couldn’t even keep his eyes off you when your glowing face lit up from those simple words. “Thank you, Toji.” As you smiled, you were also caressing your belly under the table as if your baby was listening to the conversation. He wouldn’t really doubt how much motherhood would suit you since you were kind and nurturing—some of the main traits that any man would dream to have from their wife. He was about to ask how you were going to handle your pregnancy now that you couldn’t take nitrates, but he was cut off when you suddenly reached under the table to hand him a paper bag. “My gift for the kids. It took me a while, huh?”

“I’m sure they’ll be excited to fit them.” Toji accepted your gift with a smile that he rarely gave anyone. If any employee from the Zen’in Group was here, they would definitely be intrigued to see how their strict boss was smiling on a hectic weekday. Why not? Your happiness was contagious. “Mai already convinced Maki and Megumi to have their little photoshoot while wearing the clothes so their followers can see your designs.”

Your features softened exactly like he did. “I miss them so much.”

“They miss you, too.” He watched the small pout on your lips, then placed his focus back to your eyes. “Did you really sew these?”

Even with your makeup, you were a natural. “Yeah, just Maki’s actually. It was the least complicated to sew, but I’m learning. My seamstress and I work at the studio every day.”

Before his presence would be forgotten, Satoru finally decided to chime in and remind the two of them that he was still there. “She’s so passionate about it. Wouldn’t even let me disturb her while she’s designing and cutting patterns.”

At least, Toji was glad that your husband was supportive of your dreams. You never would have been confident to pursue the industry if you weren’t given a boost of motivation. “I’m really glad you’re doing something you love, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well…” You grinned. “I still have a long way to go. You may need to chase Moncler and give them that leasing space.”

A low chuckle left his scarred lips. He was about to make another ‘Mrs. Zen’in’ joke until he saw the look on Satoru’s face. The man didn’t seem aggressively jealous, however. He appeared more like a puppy who wasn’t getting enough attention from his owner. How funny was that sight?

“I’ll support whatever you want,” was what Toji ended up saying to you, “I always will.”

While Satoru found his silence, you reached for Toji’s hand atop the table and squeezed it in gratitude. “I’m so grateful for you, Toji.”

“—I think you’re mistaken here. My brother isn’t supposed to pay for fees. Why is he being disenrolled for his classes?” Sera questioned the woman behind the registrar. “He has a scholarship grant.”

Considering the stress she had gone through for the past week—the rumors, the lack of job, the tight budget—Sera could barely get any sleep and it was driving her insane. They couldn’t even pay the house rent for the next three months and now her brother was apparently being asked to pay for tuition fees when he wasn’t supposed to. She wasn’t really planning to go to his university, but after finding out that Jiro was working two jobs a day just to earn enough and pay the fees, Sera knew she had to do something.

Strangely enough, the woman at the cashier denied her claim. “I’m sorry, Miss Iwasaki. We’ve already confirmed with the Office of Financial Aid and Scholarships. Your brother’s scholarship has been terminated.”

What?! Sera shook her head frantically. “No, no. Wait, that can’t be…” This should be Satoru’s decision. This was his revenge!

“I’m sorry,” the woman continued behind the glass wall, “The fees would have to be settled before he can take his classes.”

No… Sera felt like the ground she was standing on was splitting into two. She wasn’t really expecting that the outcome of her actions would lead to this, and she was even more devastated that the man she loved would go as far as ruining her family’s life. Did Satoru even love her at all? How could someone who once made an oath to love her unconditionally do something like this? Her chest felt tight. Constricted. Her heart was bleeding from the pain and heartbreak that she was feeling.

How else could she save her brother now? Her guilt was chastising her soul knowing that this was all her fault. This was her comeuppance and whether she liked it or not, her family would suffer on behalf of her.

Her lips were quivering when she decided to walk out of the university registrar, but upon exiting the place, she was stopped by the same woman who incessantly denied her claims not long ago. “Hang on, Miss Iwasaki.”

Turning around, she was met by the apologetic eyes of the woman and a student assistant who was carrying a file in her hand. “Please accept my apologies for the confusion. It seems that the files were not updated,” said the lady. “A full scholarship was recently granted to your brother under Mrs. Y/N Gojou.”

“C-Come again?” Sera looked at her in surprise.

“It was filed the same day the previous one was terminated,” she confirmed, stapling the papers and placing them back on her desk. “Looks like your brother has nothing to worry about.”

She couldn’t believe this. She couldn’t absolutely wrap her mind around this. A scholarship grant by you? After she literally tried to harm your child because of her jealousy? Sera was in complete disbelief and felt like she was going to faint from the sudden news. This might be staged, too. Maybe you got Satoru to cancel the scholarship and placed it under your name so you could antagonize her even more? That must be the reason because there was no way in hell that you would help her.

No, you couldn’t be too kind like that. Or were you?

Sera couldn’t answer all the questions in her head and the only time she got distracted was when her phone started buzzing nonstop. She withdrew the gadget from her bag and saw the caller ID of the very woman she wanted to avoid. Miss Eula.

Still, she couldn’t really just ignore her after everything. Perhaps this was also the best opportunity to tell her that she no longer wanted to associate herself with her. “Hey, Miss Eula?”

“Sera, we need to talk. Be quick and come meet me at this place. I’ll send you the address,” the lackadaisical tone of hers suggested that she wasn’t one to care about the things that had happened to Sera because of her wrongful advice.

And although the older woman made her seethe inside, she had to give in. “I’ll be there.”

The address wasn’t a sketchy place that could have led to her being kidnapped like they did in the movies. It was actually a private balcony of a 5-star restaurant that overlooked the Tokyo bay. It didn’t really surprise Sera to see Miss Eula with her fur coat, huge sunglasses, and ostentatious jewelry when she met with her at a reserved table that had the best view of the city.

“Sit down,” she ordered, taking her sunglasses off and scrutinizing Sera’s face. “I heard about the stunt that you pulled in the office.”

Sera held her breath. “Stunt? You’re the one who encouraged me to do it, Miss Eula. My life’s ruined.”

“Oh, please. You’re a big girl. You act like I held you at gunpoint so you could do it,” she released a scoff, totally unbothered as she sipped on her red wine. “Besides, your relationship with Satoru can’t be saved. He’s in love with his wife.”

Balling her hands into fists, she couldn’t control the way she spoke with gritted teeth, “Then, why did you want to see me?”

She didn’t even want to get started on the rumors that had spread like wildfire in the office. Sera was labeled as a homewrecker and a child killer—both of which varied depending on the story. One rumor suggested that she tried to poison you because of her jealousy which was why Satoru furiously stormed off to see her. Another rumor suggested that she harassed you because she was angry that she couldn’t legally bear Satoru’s child since she was an alleged mistress. The weirdest rumor of all was how Sera was accused of blackmailing you for money because she apparently knew some things that the public were not aware of.

Like what? That Satoru was only meant to use you in the beginning?

Either way, those rumors eventually stopped because Satoru’s father handled everything to protect his son’s image now that he was expecting a grandchild from his precious daughter-in-law. All employees would be immediately terminated, even sued for defamation, once caught spreading rumors about his son’s infidelity. So what had happened to the man who unapologetically abused his son? Was he just protecting him to lessen the damage of a foreseeable conflict with investors?

Surprisingly, that was not the topic Eula wanted to talk about when she spoke again, “I don’t give a damn about Satoru and his wife. I already realized that a baby can’t get in my way,” she claimed, setting her wine glass back on the table. “I wanna talk about Naoya. Did you think I wasn’t aware that you’ve been seeing him a lot these days?”

Naoya. Sera remembered his warning about this woman when they last saw each other and the memory started flooding her head like a waterfall.

‘She’s obsessive’, he said. ‘She’s jealous of you’, he said. The obvious fury in Miss Eula’s eyes was a clear indication of how true Naoya’s words were and Sera was revolted by it.

“What about it?” She crossed her arms and held her chin up high remembering how this was the exact gesture you did when you confronted Sera before. “Naoya and I like each other. He’s respectful of me, he understands me, and he doesn’t take me for granted. Please leave him alone, Miss Eula. He told me he feels disgusted with you.”

Miss Eula clenched her jaw. “What did you say?” In a span of three seconds, the older woman lost it. “How dare you say that!”

“Aah—!” Sera yelped when the crazy woman splashed wine all over her face, staining her favorite white dress that she wore on her first date with her ex-boyfriend. “Miss Eula!”

“What, you’re seducing Naoya and now you think you’re better? You leech!” she brutally spat while Sera hastily grabbed a napkin to wipe her face. “Listen here, Sera. You wanna know why you can never win Satoru’s heart and live a lavish life just like mine? Because you’re too ambitious. You’re trying so hard to belong to a place where you don’t fit in. And no, don’t tell me to look in the mirror. At least I managed to marry a wealthy man and I admit that I’m a gold digger. Meanwhile, you’re out here trying to convince everyone that you’re not after Satoru’s money. Isn’t that why you’re leeching off of Naoya, too? You want his money and status because you can’t have it from Satoru anymore.”

She hoped that the woman could feel the fire burning through her glare. If only looks could kill. “That’s not true, I really am not after the money—”

“Don’t feed me with your bullshit.” Eula spitefully laughed. “I’ve been there, darling. I know how women like us become desperate when we no longer have other resources. But let me tell you this, stay away from Naoya if you don’t want trouble coming your way.”

Obsessive. Again, Naoya was right. Instead of succumbing to her threat, Sera chose to stand on her ground. “Why would I stay away from him? What are you to him? Because as far as I know, he wants to throw up whenever he sees you.” She then unbuttoned her blouse and showed the marks on her collarbone, marks that made Eula’s nose flare in absolute rage. “I slept with him and we both liked it, so why would I stay away from him when he clearly wants me?”

“You—!” The older woman lunged at Sera, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling it as she screamed in anger. Eula was acting like an animal that had gone wild and it was so unexpected that she would ever let her emotions go out of control just because of a younger man who wanted nothing to do with her.

“You’re crazy! Let me go!” Sera desperately tried to break free even though her scalp was burning from the stretch. “I’m gonna tell your husband that you’re sexually harassing a younger man! You’re a freak!”

Eula let go of her, only to slap her cheek in return. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare! I’ll kill you!” her warnings were added with another slap. “And how dare you say Naoya hates me when we have a mutual relationship! Stop creating your own narrative just because you’re unhappy with your pathetic life. He’s mine!”

Sera held her swollen cheek and let out a disgusted scoff. “You’re delusional, Miss Eula. Go visit a therapist. Satoru was right about you all along. You’re sick in the head.”

“And you’re a wannabe slut who tried to kill someone else’s unborn child!” Eula returned a nasty remark after she took umbrage from Sera’s words. “You can’t ruin my life. You’re just a poor, irrelevant girl trying to make a desperate entrance to high society. Leave him alone or you’ll regret it. Stop trying to be me so badly.”

There was no need to fall into Eula’s trap. Sera learned that the best way to deflect her manipulation was to go against her.

“I’d rather die than to end up like you.”

jjk general taglist: @kity @deeznutss @suhkusa @wonyoschubs @the-golden-jhope @6mattsun9 @hokageyamz @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @crashica @aizawap @juniorhooter @atsumusoup @gxtitobxby @strawberries-en-cream @dora-the-grownup @softy-woo @tsumume @kac-chowsballs @anime-nymph @kageyamakock @onlyonew @underratedmage @katsulovee @crapimahuman @alicia-1725 @fatal-impact @drippedcream

sincerely not taglist: @itsnotsoni @pluviophilefangirl @daphnxy @Icveaesop @choso-bee @sparklingblacktea @omisemi @captainchrisstan @http-strawbebbies @buttercups145 @xllance @jonsncws @and-you-found-me @tobiotetsu @jeonjungkookismyfuture @d-efend @honouredsatoru @my-reality-is-in-my-head @blueowl51 @misslovingpearl @cuteissei @japanesevenom @borpcorp @ushi-bakatoshi @idyllicodyssea

[sukirichi]

dutifully yours. [01]

Attached to the could’ve been’s of a promised happily ever after with the Crown Prince disguised under a scheme for power and greed, you are torn between choosing your happiness — or abandoning it to fulfill your duty as the future Queen.

→ unedited bcos i’m brave lazy. implied patriarchy. angst in future chapters. pure romance and fluff for now. royalty au. eventual smut. prince naoya !! i love him sm i could cry. this fic will break me, okay. naoya is close to canon but with my twist if that makes sense. drama in future chapters. oh and listen to this while reading <3

→ massive shoutout to my besties for always hyping me and helping me uwu, i present this token of prince naoya being an ideal husband okay cry cry i love him sm im crying. anyways pls enjoy bcos i poured my heart out to this and bcos i want more people in the naoya fucker club :>

one | next (to be posted)

Ever since the day your mother taught you how to read, you’ve had your nose buried in a book. Losing yourself in different worlds, swooning over fictional princes, and fantasizing for a love story ripped out of fairytale itself with such burning, passionate romance – you’d been through it all, dreamt of it all. And yet, you struggled to stop yourself from tugging at your dress.

The tight corset hadn’t even been the main focus of your worries, and neither was the heavy rivière resting on your collarbones.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Beside you, your mother pursed her lips, fingers decorated with jewels stopping in their movements of fanning herself. The temperature hadn’t been particularly high inside the limousine that evening. You supposed it was the mere sight of you tugging and gulping audibly every now and then, gloved hands running over the hems of your collar.

You ducked your head down. “Sorry, Mother. I can’t help it.”

“Dear, your anxiety is written all over your face,” she sighed, turning your face to her as she cupped your cheeks. Smiling tenderly like a mother always did, your heart felt soothed even by the slightest bit. You wished she could keep holding you like this – like you were a fragile flower she was afraid of breaking; a fragile flower that needed more care handled than most. Tonight, however, you felt a hundred years older. Like you’d accidentally clicked on fast forward and got launched to the future. A future that seemed so unclear yet so...perfect. So right.

“How would the Prince fancy you if you’re sweating bullets like that? It’s not a good look for a marquess’ daughter.”

At the mention of the Crown Prince, your heart sank again. “My apologies, Mother. I’m just rather nervous. It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about here.”

“He is quite the looker, isn’t he?” she giggled behind her fan, “Strong and handsome, as well.”

“My ladies. You are not fantasizing over the Crown Prince in my presence, are you?”

Crossing her leg over the other, your mother leaned forwards, elbows on her knees as she winked at your father. The marquess had his torso half twisted from the passenger seat, glaring playfully at your mother’s unabashed features. “It is of no seriousness, My Lord. I’m simply easing your daughter’s nerves.”

Your father sighed in worry. “What’s got you so worked up, child? You are beautiful. The Prince would be blind to not notice you.”

Each fibre in your body screamed in desperation for your father to be right. Tonight was not just any other night – the entire Kingdom, including noblewomen, foreign royals, and unwed daughters from honourable families had been invited to the Zen’in Castle for one purpose only: to find his Crown Prince a suitable wife, one that would be fit to be the next Queen as well. As the daughter of the marquess, you’d naturally received the invitation. It felt just like yesterday when the mail arrived and you’d cheered so much in joy the chickens went flying out of their coops, your horses galloping and whinnying at surprise, and now you here – minutes away from the palace where you were soon to be deemed worthy or unworthy to be beside His Highness.

With a shaky smile, you dug your nails into your thighs. “Well, we’ve only met once, Father. I doubt the Prince would remember me.”

“Just smile, darling. You will do great.”

To no one’s surprise, the Zen’in Castle brimmed with people and esteemed guests. Men and women danced with one another as muted chatters and chuckles blended in with the grand royal orchestra, everyone dressed to the nines and making you feel completely out of place.

The moment you’d been welcomed by the knights and led to the palace doors, your dress began to feel tighter than usual, your ribs clenching uncomfortably from the pressure. Your hands had not stopped trembling either, not even when you hid it behind your back and nodded at the people passing by. There were governor-generals, dukes, earls, professors and royal advisors and even families of the royal family’s inner circle of knights. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Chatting amongst one another over the finest of wines or discussing conspiracies on where the Kingdom of Zen’in would be in the next sixty years of the future King’s reign, no one here seemed to be out of place.

Everyone except you.

A warm hand was suddenly placed on the small of your back, making you gasp. Your mother’s smile was nothing short of warm as she held you close to her one last time, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You didn’t even realize how much you shook until she clasped her hands with yours. “Calm down, dear,” she reminded, “You’ll be on your own now. This is where we leave you since we’re not supposed to mingle with potential princesses.”

“Mother!” Your eyes widened in embarrassment. Looking around frantically, you bit your lip in fear someone must’ve heard.

Of course, while it would be no surprise most guests – if not all – hoped that their daughter would be the Crown Prince’s chosen fiancée, it still felt wrong to boldly assume such when you could barely keep up with the events of tonight.

However, your mother merely laughed. “I am proud of you, dear. Never forget that. It doesn’t matter whether you are chosen or not. We’re only here for formality and respect to the King and Queen’s demands.”

“You say that as if the Crown Prince really would not bother with me.”

“We didn’t mean that,” your father cut in, a flute of champagne already nested between his calloused fingers. Ever since you arrived, he’d been snatched away by fellow earls and barons, disappearing into the crowd for a ‘hearty conversation over one’s lands.’ You knew better than that, though. That statement always translated to which leader got to have more chances to wine and dine with the King, to which your family was ridiculously reminded of that you’d been stationed to the most faraway land where even hearing news from the royal papers was but a privilege.

“Just be yourself, alright? And enjoy the party. It’s about time you met with girls your own age and made some friends.”

“I – Father, wait!”

A slender young woman slithered to your side out of nowhere, her golden brown eyes following the silhouettes of your parents. It wasn’t long before they completely disappeared. Left alone with the stunning woman that was – for some reason – dressed in a plain black curve hugging dress too modest for tonight’s appropriateness, you took three steps away in caution. “You must be from way up North,” she noted, her head to the tipped to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

God, was she beautiful. Long, thick eyelashes and short hair chopped in messy yet elegant curves, you struggled to hold her gaze. “Oh, yes, I come from the Terratian Borders. My family is stationed there under His Majesty’s orders.”

She hummed to herself. “The Terratian Borders are mostly forests and fields, no? The last time my family and I visited there, I came across the loveliest dandelions I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shame they died on the way back,” offering her hand – again, bare and empty with decorations yet still littered with faint scars and cuts – she beamed at you. “I’m Mai, by the way. Mai Zen’in.”

Zen’in?

Hands cupping your mouth, you bowed deep until your back ached. “Lady Mai!” you shut your eyes closed, unable to live with the shame. Mai Zen’in; one of the iconic twin pair from the extended Zen’in royal family, both a fashion icon and a legend for being a rumoured female knight. To have her in your presence was an honour. “My apologies for not recognizing you any sooner, Lady Mai!”

“Stand up, I’m not a royal,” she sniggered, “We’re just relatives of the actual monarch, but don’t let the family name fool you. The Crown Prince barely even acknowledges us being of the same blood.”

Albeit hesitant, you followed her gestures of making you stand up. You straightened your back and cleared your throat, fighting the urge to go haywire the moment his name was brought into the conversation. Not only would you be seeing Prince Naoya again in real life for the first time in years, but you’d also made acquaintances with his distant niece. However, his name was spoken with malice.

Frowning, you faced Lady Mai in all seriousness. “Prince Naoya? Why so?” Lady Mai looked at you like you’d grown two heads.

“He’s an ass, that’s why.”

“I-I don’t think he is,” you defended, “The Prince has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I didn’t know he was capable of kindness,” she muttered more so under her breath, low enough you were unsure whether you were supposed to hear it in the first place. Lady Mai then shook her head to herself before stealing a flute from a waiter passing by. Chucking it your way, her face turned dark and grim. “Take it as free advice: stay as far away from his as possible. The Crown Prince is nothing but good news.”

“Is it because he has lots of lovers?” you inquired with a small voice, “Uhm – well – It was an assumption. With a title and handsomeness like that, it would make sense everyone would want to be the Crown Prince’s lover.”

Lady Mai’s lip curled upwards. “Prince Naoya won’t bother with lovers. He is too occupied for that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Heard from whom?”

“The Royal Declaration from His Majesty himself,” you said, “Was it not the purpose of this ball? To find worthy candidates to be the Crown Prince’s betrothed? His coronation is coming soon.”

“Right. I forgot today was technically a bridal market,” she scratched the edge of her brow, falling silent for a moment. Her eyes scanned the lively crowd for a brief moment – watching with you as everyone laughed and danced to their heart’s content – the grand final event of the routine personal dance with the Crown Prince himself slowly approaching to reality. “You are joining in the festivities, are you not? Later, when he arrives, he shall meet you.”

“I am obligated to as a noble bachelorette, though I doubt His Highness would even look my way. There are far richer noblewomen here and even daughters of duke that would be perfect as his wife. ”

“You may have a point for that,” she hummed to herself, unaware that her agreement to the Crown Prince not paying attention to you left a sting both in your ego and heart. Not that it lasted long, for Lady Mai was already tugged on the arm by another equally fiercely beautiful woman – her older twin, Maki Zen’in. Soon to be governon-general of the Kingdom.

Lady Mai smiled in apology. “I need to go now since I’m not a part of this event. But hey, if ever I come around to visit the Borders again, perhaps you could entertain me?”

“I would be honoured to, Lady Mai.”

“You are sweet and innocent,” it was her sister who spoke this time, glasses perched high on her nose that concealed the wariness of her gaze. “I hope the Crown Prince never gets to your routine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s nothing; she was talking to herself. Maki does that a lot,” Lady Mai’s forced chuckles were barely heard from the music. “You enjoy the party now. Don’t drink too much lest you want to embarrass yourself in everyone’s eyes and be talk of the Kingdom. Prince Naoya would hate it if you took the attention away from him.”

“Oh, uhm...”

“It’s a joke, Lady Y/N. Relax.”

You bowed once more. “My apologies.”

“The dance is about to begin,” Maki tapped on your shoulder, making you look up right where her eyes zeroed in. And exactly in the middle of the grandiose hall, under the sparkling golden chandeliers where he made all the gold in the world look incomparable next to him, the Crown Prince stood in his fully glory. Blond hair with the ends stained of midnight gelled back to reveal his forehead, the Crown Prince’s beauty never failed to shine. Whether it be in the papers, in the tabloids, in the billboards that you passed on the way to the city, or from way back when you met him for the first time as a naive, innocent teen – Crown Prince Naoya came straight out of a magazine cover.

In the back of your head, you could hear either of the twins murmuring good luck. Maybe both of them had said it – you had no idea. All of your attention, all the sensibility and coherence of your state had been switched the next instant, as if your heart and soul was born for the sole purpose of being bewitched by your Crown Prince.

And as if feeling someone’s gaze on him, the Crown Prince’s eyes trailed over the crowd. Almost boredly, his sharp eyes bounced from one giggling woman to another, the ends of his lips smirking upwards for just the tiniest bit. It must’ve stroked his ego. Until his eyes connected with yours. The Crown Prince’s eyebrows knitted together. You had no idea how you looked in that moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. Because the Crown Prince was looking at you, and you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes along with your heart pulsing at the tip of your tongue.

“Let us begin,” his lips moved from the distance, “Play the music. I shall dance with my bride.”

The air shifted in a split second. Murmurs were thrown over the room, women and men alike turning pale. Even the orchestra was stunned from the Crown Prince’s entrance – and it hadn’t even been dramatic to his standards – yet the whole castle fell mum from just a few of his words. A few seconds later, the crowd recomposed itself, and the strings began to dance along with its bows.

You are pushed into the crowd. Nearly colliding into the arms of another, you quietly thank the masked man who was to be your first partner of the night.

All the men joining the dance floor dressed with the intention of making the Crown Prince shine. Prince Naoya stood out from the throng of white as per the colour code, his blood red uniform as both Prince with the  golden crest of the military leader pinned to his right breast. The other men meant to be filler partners until all the potential brides got to their designated three minutes with the Prince were all dressed in black, faces covered behind a plain black mask. None were allowed to talk. None were allowed to utter even a word, and so your partner pursed his lips in displeasure at your apology.

Whatever. You just had to wait a few more rounds before the song finished and transitioned into a new one; the song where you’d been informed would be your time alone with the Prince.

You’d been so lost in your head you barely breathed the entire dance. From partner to partner, you blanked. Your heart drummed so wildly in its cage it begged to come out, and strings of apologies were let out each time your masked partners grimaced for a brief second when their hands came in contact with your sweaty ones. Around you, all the lovely women smiled and danced graciously, mouths moving in unreadable conversations shared with the Crown Prince. Not once did you look at the six partners you’ve danced with. Not once did you worry about tripping on your own feet. Not once did you care that some of the masked men held you a little too roughly for your comfort. Your entire reason for existing in that moment was to witness the Crown Prince himself, mirroring his frown that got deeper and deeper with each woman retreating to the sea of people he’d rejected.

Not once did you even think about being one of them – the girls who’ve ducked their heads down as their parents comforted them over not being the chosen one, of bringing ‘dishonour’ to their families that the mighty Crown Prince had deemed them unworthy. Tears streamed down their faces until black ink followed afterwards, lips trembling from silent sobs.

Despite their broken prides – although there was that minority who simply sighed in relief after returning to their own families – no one would dare interrupt the Crown Prince’s dances.

All of these thoughts crossed your mind too late and at the exact time your masked partner pulled away from you, body half bent in a bow with his arm outstretched to the side. Following where he was gesturing at, your eyes met the Crown Prince’s tall and lean stature, a few blond fringes now fallen from his movements.

Even though a thin layer of sweat shone from his face, Prince Naoya remained ethereal.

And like a snake charmed by the musician’s seductive tone, your feet moved on its own. Fingers stretching until it met with the Crown Prince’s large and warm ones, you were now in front of him. With him. Holding him, touching him, meeting him eye for eye and realizing – gold. His eyes burned a deep shade of gold, elegantly rich and heartbreakingly stunning your heart ached.

Before you knew it, your hands began to tremble, feeling as if your body had been corded into a corset three sizes smaller. You could not breathe, and the Crown Prince took notice.

“You are stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” Good Saint. If only possible, you would’ve closed your eyes and basked in the deep warmth of his voice. It reverberated from deep within, breathed out with an air of natural authority and profound confidence it made your knees weak. As if sensing his effect on you (though for the wrong reasons, it seemed), Prince Naoya hummed to himself. “This routine shall last for a few minutes before I can let you go, I’m afraid.”

You instantly realized the implications of your silence. “N-not at all, Your Highness! I am honoured to be dancing with you.”

“There is no honour in a choreographed dance. Everyone will dance with me. It’s nothing special.”

Your heart fell. Prince Naoya not only sounded dejected, but detached as well. As if he found no pleasure or specialty in this event, at a time where he had every opportunity to meet his lover, and that this ball was merely a task to be checked off in his already long list of responsibilities. It wasn’t disappointment, per se, but rather melancholy that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because Prince Naoya held little to no regards for something you treasured, but because he sounded terribly alone. Like he was simply waiting for it to end out of discomfort.

“It’s special to me, Your Highness,” you blurted out faster than you could stop yourself. For a moment, you feared you may have offended him, but the Crown Prince only laughs.

And when he did – saint, when he laughed – his eyes crinkled into half moons, pearly whites flashing against the bright lights and his whole chest shook with amusement.

You’d never seen him smile this way before.

Prince Naoya’s laughter didn’t cease. Around you, your gut instincts told that people were now beginning to look; the Crown Prince’s deep rumbles of laughter sounded exquisitely like music as well, after all. “ Is it special to you because you are now dancing and within the Crown Prince’s proximity? As much as I presume how exhilarating it might be for those who mostly see me in the papers and in the tabloids, I assure you, dancing with your Prince is not an honour. Especially when you are all sent the invitations based on your status and not your worthy traits.”

“It’s special to me,” you mumbled, growing shy all of a sudden when the Crown Prince nodded at you to continue. “Because...because it reminds me of the first time we met.”

The Crown Prince hummed in amusement.

“We have met before?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’m from the Terratian Borders – my father is a loyal servant of His Majesty. You visited the borders when you were eighteen and I was sixteen. Do you remember it, Your Highness? You stormed in my private library.”

Indeed, the young barely-out-of-his-teens Crown Prince barged into your home’s library years ago. You were not previously informed he and his parents would be visiting since they arrived wordlessly, so you were stuck in your chambers as usual, killing time if not for sleeping and tending to the animals. Perched on a ladder, you attempted to reach for a book on the upper shelf when your foot slipped beneath you. At the age of sixteen, you were dramatic enough to say your life flashed before your eyes. You would’ve screamed then had strong arms not appeared out of nowhere, the Crown Prince staring at you with wide, golden eyes as they were now, his breathy rasped as he asked, are you okay, my lady?

The mere recollection of that fateful memory had your cheeks warming in delight. “You were so charming and heroic back then. Even when I had no idea you were a royal, I would have still believed you to be princely,” you said rather absentmindedly, blinking once then twice at your words. “Of course, it’s understandable if you do not remember, Your Highness!”

“My apologies. I do not remember, though Terratia is a wonderful place. Such a shame I was not informed beforehand they had a lovely daughter.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you cheered back, cheeks and jaw beginning to ache from how wide you were smiling. But could anyone blame you? You felt absolutely silly that you were a breath away from passing out minutes ago, and now here you were, dancing with the Crown Prince and sharing memories with him like it was a daily occurrence. The words it’s true love when you feel at peace with them suddenly rang back at your head from that latest romance novel you read, and you turned away, hoping the Crown Prince would not read your thoughts to your face. However, Prince Naoya’s lips pursed into a thin line, all traces of humour now disappeared. “I’m sorry – should I not have laughed?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he mused with his jaw locked tight, “I just haven’t seen anyone react that way before.”

“Like what?”

“Like my words meant the entire universe to them. I may dare even say you look terribly in love, though I cannot blame you on that one, can I?”

Prince Naoya shook his head the minute the words left his mouth. Forcing himself to believe it couldn’t be real, perhaps, you truly did not know anymore. Your only plan for tonight was to see the Crown Prince and get to live out your dream of seeing him once more even for just a brief moment before you travelled back home while he married another, and yet – “Your Highness, I’m in love with you. I have always been since the day we met.”

You could no longer stop the words. The voice at the back of your head begged you to shut up and not cause a scene, that your time had passed up and people were staring, yet you remained in his arms no matter how much you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Your Highness. I did not come here to attempt to steal your heart and be your wife, though I will admit I have dreamt of meeting you again for so many moons. I...I only want to tell you this. That I love you and even though it was a brief moment, I think the love I’ve always read about felt real and possible for the first time in my life,” chuckling nervously, you gather to courage to face him, adoration shining for the Crown Prince stood shock still before you, however stunned he may be. “I love you, Your Highness. I love you. And to whoever lucky woman you choose to be your betrothed, I hope she takes care of you and showers you with all the affection you are deserving of. You would make a great King. So God help his Crown Prince, and may you lead us all into a better world.”

Prince Naoya did not budge a muscle. His eyes remained hard on yours, breath warm as his nostrils fumed. With each passing second that he did not speak, you grew restless and tugged your arm away from his hold with a disgraceful smile.

You’d truly crossed your line. The repercussions to be faced for this impoliteness would destroy your family’s honour. You had to leave. “Your Highness? The song has changed. It’s time to let go—”

The Crown Prince inched close enough until his hair tickled your cheeks, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you close, close enough that your lower bodies touched. Skin ablaze with heat, you dared not move an inch. “Do you mean it?” he demanded lowly, his fingers ghosting over your wrist to hold you in place. “Do you truly love me? Not for what I have, not for who I was born to be, but me as a person itself?”

Closing your eyes to shudder in a deep breath, you exhaled. “Of course, Your Highness. Even if you were not born as a Prince, I’m sure I would’ve still loved you in a different universe.”

“But I do not know you.”

“We don’t have to know each other, Your Highness, and we never will. Once you let me go, I’ll return to the shadows where I belong, and I will continue supporting you until the day of your coronation.”

“And if I refuse to let you go?” he clicked his tongue, “What will you do then?”

The Crown Prince’s spicy perfume must be an aphrodisiac or hypnotizer of sorts. Everything he did messed with your mind that it was too late – the music had stopped and people were no longer drinking or chatting. Everyone’s eyes were on you and the Crown Prince. You could only imagine how controversial this position must be; with his lips trailing dangerously close to that sensitive spot in your neck where you nearly moaned. You really needed to leave.

“P-people are looking, Your Highness. You do not want this affair with someone you won’t choose—”

“Who said I won’t choose you?” Finally, he pulled away. But Prince Naoya never once tore his gaze away from yours, nor did he allow you to look at anyone but him as he caresses your jaw so light and feathery you wondered if he was truly there.“Who said I haven’t laid my eyes on you the moment you walked in here? This ball is for naught because of you, Lady Y/N. I’ve already made my choice, and you helped me confirm it as soon as you danced with me.”

“Your Highness...”

“Look at me,” he ordered, your eyes flitting from his pinkish lips to his sharp nose and then to his fox-like gaze. Only this time, Prince Naoya was no longer harsh. “Don’t be scared.”

“But they’re looking.”

“You are with me, of course they’ll look,” he teased, “They wish to be you right now. But ignore them and dance one more time with me.”

It wasn’t like you had a choice, but did it matter? One nod from him was all it took before the orchestra fumbled back to their spots and a new song played, Ode of Moonlight Lovers, and the Crown Prince was guiding you back to where he had originally danced with you.

From the corners of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your parents with their mouths gaped open; your father looking like he was on the verge of passing out. However, you felt nothing but joy, nothing but the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he danced and twirled you in his arms. When the music stopped and you were both panting for air with silly smiles on your face, it dawned on you that you were with the Prince. No, rather, it was only you and the Prince alone. Even in the sea of people whose faces began to blur, he prevailed crystal clear.

You could recognize him anywhere, find him everywhere.

Prince Naoya stepped impossibly closer until your chests touched, hearts beating as one. Cupping your jaw, he was near enough that he swallowed all your shaky breaths with a small, teasing smile like you both shared a secret the entire world could not know.

“Do I still make you nervous?”

Laughing, you nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“It’s beloved now,” he corrected, face inching closer and closer to a point you could count the number of his lower lashes. “And what do lovers do to seal their union?”

“M-Marriage?”

“Close, but this is much better.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would have a love story ripped out straight from a fairytale, you would’ve laughed at their faces. You were no Cinderella, nor were you a goddess of beauty that could’ve possibly caught the Crown Prince’s eye. Yet, his soft lips were on yours, kissing you with as much passion you could only dream of that you cried.

Strong hands guiding the back of your waist, Prince Naoya dipped you lower to the ground – the grand of finish of his dance. He had chosen his bride.

The crowd cheered and rejoiced all around you, making you smile into the kiss. Fisting his collar to bring him closer to yours, your mouth burst into metaphorical fireworks as soon as his tongue mingled with yours for an experimental taste. He was bitter yet sweet; expensive wine resting on his tongue, yet a delicate vanilla sat heavily on his soft lips that molded with yours. It was a taste you could spend forever being addicted on. And you were crying, crying so much your chest ached and the Prince’s cheeks grew damp from yours. You’d dreamt of this for so long, too long now.

Prince Naoya slowly pulled you away, his thumb wiping the tears away from the pads of your cheeks with tenderness in his touch. However, the Prince was not satisfied. The crowd whooped as he leant down to kiss your forehead. “You are mine now, my princess.”

Looping his hands with yours, the Crown Prince led you out of the castle. The crowd parted naturally to make way for the new couple, and you were left staring at his broad back and the tuft of blond hair where you’d soon find out how soft it would be. Sending one last glance to your crying parents, you waved goodbye. You had no idea where the Crown Prince would take you but you were already bunching your dress up, heart completely filled with trust you did not question it. What mattered tonight and for the rest of your life was that it felt right. That it was him – your beloved Prince Naoya Zen’in and soon to be husband – that you’d follow through the moon and back.

[cyancherub]

CASSIE I JUST WANNA SAY THAT YOU'RE ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITERS HERE ON TUMBLR AND YOU ARE LITERALLY SO AMAZING LIKE FUCK CASS YOU WRITE SO WELL AND STIR EMOTIONS INSIDE OF ME THAT I NEVER EVEN KNEW I COULD FEEL

BEEN HERE FOR A WHILE BUT I HAD ONLY DECIDED TO READ WITHOUT YOU YESTERDAY AND FUCK YEAH IT WAS SO GOOD CASS I SHOULD'VE READ IT SOONER

I'M SO OVERWHELMED BY THE LAST FEW CHAPTERS I WANNA FUCKING SCREAM AND HURT YOU CASS 😭🔪 COME HERE

I'M GONNA BE HONEST WITH YOU I WAS MORE OF A KIRI SIMP BEFORE THIS FIC BUT NOW I'M DOWN BAD FOR BAKUGO NOW PLS CASS YOU WROTE HIM SO FUCKING WELL I'M TEARING UP I'M NEVER GONNA FORGET THAT SCENE ON THE BEACH WHERE WE WENT STARGAZING WITH HIM AND THAT SCENE ON THE BED WHERE HE BRUSHED OUR HAIR AND KEPT US COMPANY WHEN KIRI GAVE US THE COLD SHOULDER AND THE WAY HE STOOD IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIRE PIT JUST TO PUSH OUR LIMITS WITH OUR QUIRK :(( I ALMOST FORGOT THAT LITTLE GROCERY DATE PLS THAT'S NOT EVEN HALF OF IT HE LITERALLY DRAINED ALL THE FEELINGS I HAD FOR KIRI I'M SO SORRY KIRI BUT I CAN LITERALLY WRITE A WHOLE DISSERTATION ON WHY BAKUGO SHOULD BE THE ENDGAME

AND NOT TO MENTION THE SPICY ANGRY JEALOUS SEX OH MY GOD CASS THAT WAS DELICIOUS AND AMAZING

CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS SO INVESTED WITH THE PLOT THAT I BASICALLY HAD TO SKIM OVER THE 18+ CONTENT BC I SWEAR THE PLOT IS JUST AS GOOD (IF NOT BETTER) THAN THE PORN ITSELF LIKE THE WAY YOU WROTE DEVIL- AND HYDRA'S PAST- FUCK CASSIE- EVERYTHING IS SO INTRICATE AND GENIUS AND IMMACULATE

CASS I'M NEVER GONNA FORGIVE YOU FOR WRITING THIS I HATE YOU SO MUCH IT'S SO DAMN GOOD BUT YOU BETTER GIVE OUR POOR BAKUGO SOME JUSTICE ALRIGHT

IT HURTS SO MUCH READING THOSE RECENT SMUT CHAPTERS THINKING ABOUT HOW WE DISREGARDED OUR FEELINGS FOR BAKUGO JUST LIKE THAT BC WE'RE BEING FUCKED DUMB BY KIRI

I'M SO MAD PLS I STILL FUCKING HATE US FOR BEING SO MARUPOK LIKE STOP BEING SO SELFISH AND GREEDY AND INDECISIVE AND STUPID GOD DAMN IT BUT I TRUST YOU CASSIE I KNOW YOU'RE GONNA GIVE US A GOOD ENDING

P.S. I LOVE YOU CASSIE ALL YOUR WORKS ARE AMAZING (BTW MY FAVES ARE INITIATION AND THE LIFEGUARD KIRI FIC)

P.P.S. CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT UPDATES I'M DYING FOR MORE HERO ACTION :))

P.P.P.S. YOUR VERSION OF BAKUGO KATSUKI IS ENGRAVED IN MY HEART

H-HELLO OMG okay sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this !! FIRST OF ALL i am giving you the biggest virtual hug through my screen right now THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME...,,, !!!!

SHDBGSVS DID U READ THE ENTIRE THING IN A DAY 😭😭🤚 the absolute rollercoaster of emotions u must have been on... help!!!

ITS SO INCREDIBLY INTERESTING TO ME THAT I CHANGED U FROM A KIRI SIMP TO A BAKUGOU SIMP??? because usually people say it’s the other way around with WY!!! BUT THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY BECAUSE i have some trouble writing bakugou sometimes!! especially his vulnerable side. BUT I LOVE WRITING HIM and i fell for him in the process of writing him so i could see why the vulnerability would draw u in too!! the beach scene, the stargazing 😭😭😭😭

THE FACT THAT U LOVE THE PLOT JUST AS MUCH AS THE PORN IF NOT MORE!!!! I COULD SCREAM AND CRY 😭😩😩😩 i have so much fun writing plot for WY it’s so near and dear to me and it just !!! MEANS SO MUCH! !!! Im over the moon with this comment, the fact that u like devil and the background of hydras quirk 🤧🤧💖

HAVDGS DONT WORRY!!!! bakugou’s gonna get some spicy steamy justice this chapter i promise!! It’s real nasty 😩🤚 WAIT WHDBSG IM CACKLING MARUPOK ARE U FILIPINA 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ DID U KNOW DEVIL IS SUPPOSED TO BE FILIPINA TOO 🏃‍♀️ WITH THE ESCRIMA STICKS !!!

but yes we are very indecisive and greedy BUT U ARE ALSO RIGHT THAT I AM GOING TO DELIVER A HAPPY ENDING BECAUSE MY POOR HEART CANNOT TAKE AN ANGSTY ENDING 😭 BUT I HAVE A TON OF PLOT STUFF / HERO AND QUIRK STUFF COMING UP so be ready for that !!! 😚😚

I LOVE U SM IM SO HAPPY U LIKE MY WORK MY HEART IS FULL this comment is so special to me 🥺 especially knowing that u love my version of bakugou HUGS U!!!!! THIS MADE MY DAY!!

[ka-za-ri]

Descent Pt. 2

Masterlist of other Chapters: Here Crossposted to Ao3: here

Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

I’m so glad y’all are enjoying the food so far, please take some more of it. Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist or anything like that. For now, let’s enjoy our favorite angel doing ... not very angelic things (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Pairing: Simeon x Reader Wordcount: 5,000 ish Genre: Luxurious Smut Tags: Voyeurism, mutual masturbation Summary:   With the first chapter behind him, there's still something missing in Simeon's writing, and he needs your help to figure out what it is.

Stumble

True to his word, Simeon had the draft he promised in your email inbox within a few days. You were surprised. He seemed to be struggling so much when you last saw him, you really expected him to take a little more time. Regardless, it was to your benefit since it meant you had more time to edit. 

Even if it was just the first chapter and a little bit after, you were surprised at the speed in which he jumped to the lewd scenes. It wasn’t surprising considering sex was the focus, but you would need to teach him how to reign in his enthusiasm. By the time you were finished reading through the draft the first time, your whole face had gone hot. The explicit details he wrote out only brought your mind back to what you had acted out in that sunroom just a few days ago. It was a direct translation of your actions to text. Sure, Simeon was new to the genre, but his talent as a writer still shone through. 

Despite the roughness of the draft, the publisher approved it as acceptable proof of progress. They greenlit the whole project and you were more than excited to email Simeon and let him know the good news. Just as you had come back from the meeting with the executives, your phone chirped with a new message.

[SMS: I AM STUCK. I CANNOT WRITE ANYMORE. HELP ME.]

You laughed at how short and crude the message was. For someone who spent most of his time on a computer writing; he was absolutely hopeless with any other form of technology. Shaking your head at how someone like him had gotten so far in life barely knowing how to send a text, you packed up your things and made your way to his place. You did have a few notes about his first chapter to give him, anyway. 

Simeon hated being deceptive. He hated how quickly he had started to rely on that image of you in his brightly lit sunroom to fuel his writing and for his own desires. He was ashamed to ask you to come over again; but he was repeating the same motions in his writing, he needed new visuals and you were the only one he could trust. In reality, his request was a thinly veiled request to see you perform again. He was able to complete his work so quickly after watching you. Researching video clips and online articles gave him some fuel, but nothing got him so fired up as watching a scene unfold from you. 

It was a strange obsession he was still wrapping his mind around. He had to be careful, the temptation you possessed was absolutely dangerous. Simeon had to reassure himself that he was ancient and knew his way around humans with how long he had studied them. He needed to convince himself that he would never sully a human body, no matter how much he wanted you. His title, status and reputation as an angel were the most sacred parts of him. With so many years of writing experience, surely he could write a proper sex scene without actually ever having to fuck you.

It didn’t stop him from being nervous. No matter how many fail safes he came up with, he knew that you were effortlessly enticing him to be joined with you. He had to be vigilant. It would be the ultimate test of his will and his determination. Both for his career and his soul. He would see it through, he knew he could. No material experience could be more important than his angelic status. Right?

He paced back and forth in the foyer of his home, gnawing on his nail while he waited for you to arrive. It had taken him half an hour to find the right words to text you. Simeon glanced at the phone in his hand almost every ten seconds, hoping you had replied. He knew you had a meeting, but it should be over by now and you should be arriving at any moment. You hadn’t answered him which made him antsy. Usually you would have at least told him you were coming over. He could only hope that you were just eager to see him as he was to see you again.

He didn’t want to admit how he had fallen asleep with his hands down his pants the past three days, dreaming about your sweet voice as you came and called out to him. He didn’t want to think about how many positions he had imagined you being in. Simeon didn’t want to dwell on how many scenarios he came up with just to have you reenact them for him. Some of the scenes delved so deep into his darkest desires that he was scared to even admit he thought about them. 

But he wanted to see them play out. 

The doorbell barely finished ringing and he was already flinging opening the door to let you in. “I’m guessing the meeting went well.” He said with a bright smile to hide his nerves. He was already set up in his sunroom. During the time you were gone, he had brought a small folding desk to the recliner. The cable for his computer had also been moved so he didn’t have to worry about the battery being drained. You instinctively went over to the couch lined up against the wall but he stopped you. Instead of letting you lounge like you did the last time, he offered you a chair across from his makeshift desk instead. He refused to make eye contact as you made yourself comfortable. 

“The meeting went as well as it could,” you said while taking out the envelopes that contained his work. “They like everything so far, but it’s still rough and needs a little bit more refinement, and I have to agree with them.” 

You glanced up at him and noticed him fidgeting with his fingers while he kept his face calm. “So, what needs to be fixed up?”

You flipped through a few pages and showed him the paragraphs of smut he had written. The color drained from his face as he was face-to-face with the obscenity of his work in physical form. “So, it’s not bad. But I can tell it was your first time. There’s something missing about the partner. I can’t place it, but it just feels… flat? Like I can’t tell if they’re feeling anything from the exchange or what.” 

“Ah… Oh… Hahaha. I see… That explains a lot.” 

You raised a curious eyebrow at his comment. “Does it?” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back in the chair. It seemed as though Simeon was just at the verge of another great discovery about his writing and you were rather intrigued about what his thoughts were. 

“Yes. I was struggling to write this next scene and I just… couldn’t figure out how to convey the partner’s feelings. It’s frustrating. I should have all the resources that I need to make it work.” He gestured at what he had written and bade you to take a look. 

It was always fun to see his work in progress. With the partially polished scenes and unfinished sentences, it was like you got to see the inner workings of his brain. What he had in front of you was a far cry from the more polished work you were used to, but the overall flow of action was much better than the travesty you had seen last time. However, you could see the exact point where he started to struggle. As he said, there was a lack of feeling behind the words. 

“Ooh… So this is the part where you need my help again, huh?” 

Simeon covered his face with his hand. “I’m ashamed to ask you to assist me with another scene.” 

You smiled softly, reaching over and ruffling his hair. “Well, I’d be the world’s worst editor and manager if I refused to help you, right?” 

“You don’t have to…” 

“But I want to.” You reassured him, while getting up from your seat to start stripping. Truth be told, you were waiting for the next time you got to see him so hot and bothered while working. Something about how focused he was on writing and not what his body needed made you want to push him further, see just what it took to get him distracted. “But you know… I’m sure you’d get more out of it if you experienced it too. Sometimes, just watching isn’t enough.”

Simeon felt his heart drop to his stomach from your suggestion. You were putting into words all of his desires and what he had craved ever since the last time. If he didn't have his wits about him, he knew he would have taken you up on the offer. The temptation of knowing how it felt to be in you while you moaned had piqued his curiosity and he longed to experience it. “I… Uh,” he stuttered, trying to wrap his mind around how to reply. 

You dragged your finger up his thigh, pausing right at his crotch and waited for his reaction. He was so cute with his eyes wide, lips slightly parted and his brain short circuiting from your advances. You wanted to devour him and see him crumble under your fingers. “You what?” You encouraged, moving the focus from his crotch upwards, your finger skirting the soft sweater he wore and up to his chin. You tilted his head upwards to meet you eye to eye. “You want to write the best novel… don’t you?” 

“I do…” He breathed, unable to take his eyes away from you and his mind struggled to keep up with how quickly you had taken control of the situation. He needed to wrestle some semblance of calm back in his favor if he wanted to continue getting what he wanted without you suspecting his obsession.  “In order for me to do that, I need you to show me how…” He trailed off, cheeks flushed warm from thinking about his lewd request. 

“How what? Come on now, you asked me to fuck a pillow last time, how is this going to be any worse than that?” you teased. Much to your delight, he became more flustered, his gaze dropping to the floor and he mumbled to himself. You let him get over his shyness, waiting patiently with his chin balanced at the tip of your finger. 

Please uhm… Please show me how you please yourself… for this next scene.” He managed to save himself from falling completely into your trap, specifying exactly what he needed you to do. You were so alluring and so close to him, he had almost asked for the unforgivable. 

You smiled, letting go of his chin and stepping back. “It’d be so much easier if I had some toys to do that… but I guess I’ll show you since you asked so nicely.” You planted a kiss on his forehead before undoing the buttons of your blouse. 

“T-toys?” Simeon squeaked. He had seen them in video clips and read about them in reviews when he researched; but it never occurred to him that you might want to use them. 

“It’s okay if you don’t have any. I can always settle with this…” You teased, walking over to him and fondling his crotch. “In fact, I would prefer this over anything else.” 

You were close enough to see his pupils dilate and notice how his breath hitched as you touched him. He pulled away from you, hiding behind his screen and pretended to be busy with opening a new document. “I… I need to write.”

“But that’s the problem…” you whined, pouting that he pulled away but you didn’t press the issue any further. Watching him squirm was so satisfying; and you hadn’t even done anything yet. “You were writing the last time and you had the same problem, so stop writing this time and get into it.” You suggested. 

“I can’t.” he shook his head vehemently. “I can’t do it. No.” 

You sighed, putting your hands on your hips and looked at him. You never pegged him to be the kind of guy who waited until marriage to be intimate, but it seemed like he was alluding to the fact that he was saving himself. If he wasn’t, he was at least being very reserved for the type of content he was writing. “Fine, we don’t have to do it,” you conceded before going back to stripping yourself bare. “But feel free to help yourself to whatever you need for inspiration.” You winked, looking down at his crotch and he hastily crossed his legs when your gaze lingered. 

He was so cute. You couldn’t tell if he knew exactly what he was doing. It was hard to expect someone so beautiful and of his age to not get intimate when the chance arose. Part of you wondered if it was because you weren’t desirable to him outside of your little acts. Dwelling on that thought made your chest hurt in bitterness and you shoved that to the side to focus on helping him instead. 

You flopped back down on the chair, spreading your legs and resting them on the arms of the chair so that Simeon had a clear view of what you were about to do to yourself. Having him watch everything you did so close to you aroused much faster than you expected. “Well, time to get to work.” you said nonchalantly. 

You closed your eyes, imagining Simeon joining you in getting nude. You imagined what it would be like for him to reveal his skin a little at a time in a playful strip tease. He always wore such bulky and cozy looking sweaters, it made you wonder just what kind of body he was hiding underneath all the layers. You started at your breasts again, squeezing them together and playing with them to aid in the fantasy. 

In front of you, Simeon was typing up a storm. In your mind, it was his hands at your breasts, playing with your nipples until they were perky. You thought about him latching his soft lips around your nipple, licking at the sensitive skin there until you squirmed and moaned his name. You were careful this time to make sure you didn’t accidentally call for him when you really got into it. You weren’t in a rush to experience that embarrassment a second time. 

He could see your folds progressively get wetter as you touched yourself and wrapped yourself in a fantasy he had no access to. Recalling the last time, Simeon wondered if he was occupying your mind again. This time, he was much more aware of his body’s reactions to the scene in front of him. There was no way he could ignore the pressure growing in his pants. No matter how much he focused on the document in front of him, he could feel his desires bubbling and threatening to spill over. 

It was different this time. You were sprawled out in front of him, moaning softly and panting. Your head rested on the back of the chair. With your eyes closed and your mouth open slightly in an “O” you looked absolutely angelic. He wanted to join you, his fingers stopped typing and he was once again frozen, watching the performance in front of him. 

You noticed he stopped typing much sooner than the last time and smirked a bit, cracking open your eyes to see his precious face staring at you in wonder. “Like what you see?” You asked coyly, sliding one hand down from your breast to your pussy. You spread yourself wide so he could see exactly just how wet you were. 

Simeon only nodded, entranced with the way your folds glistened and he could smell your arousal from where he sat. He licked his lips holding onto his fraying desires as best as he could. Control yourself. You can do this. “Y-yes…” His voice came out thickly, as if his vocal chords refused to work properly. 

You giggled, loving how riled up you were getting him and slowly rubbed your slick slit with your fingers. You moaned, the pleasure your fingers gave you was much better than riding a pillow. With just a quick glance, you noticed he had uncrossed his legs and was sporting a rather impressive tent in his pants. “Well, I’m glad that you’re not bored.” you teased much to his dismay. 

His hands flew to his crotch, covering himself and he tried to will his boner back down to no avail. You giggled again, pulling his attention away from his arousal. “It’s okay, I would have been disappointed if you didn’t get turned on by what you’re seeing.” 

“I uhm…” 

“It’s okay.” You reassured him again. “Feel free to join in however you want. It only makes it all the more fun.” 

Simeon gulped, torn between work and pleasure. He put himself in this predicament, he needed to figure a way out of it. He needed relief and he needed to write. The two sides of him warred as he scrambled with his fizzling brain to figure out something. An epiphany dawned on him when he heard his phone go off. 

“Spam?” you asked when he fumbled with the incoming call, trying to silence the ringtone. “Or were you expecting someone?” 

“Ah.. uhm… spam. I think.” He confirmed once he managed to figure out to disregard the call without picking it up. The next thing he needed to figure out was how to get the camera working and recording. You wanted to help him, but with one hand covered in fluids, you weren’t sure if he wanted you touching his phone. 

Eventually with a little vocal coaching on your end and a lot of fumbling on his side, he got it to work and propped the phone up to start recording what you were doing. If he was going to get relief now, he needed to at least have proper reference to go back to later. 

“Wow… you are so much kinkier than I thought.” You joked, causing Simeon to cover his face in shame, but he didn’t try to argue. There was something about having everything recorded for later that only added to the sexual tension in the room. 

“It’s for research…” He mumbled more to convince himself than to explain to you what he was doing. 

“Right… research.” 

He moved his hands to mirror your own. One at his crotch and the other at his chest. It was difficult to hide your disappointment when you saw he wasn’t about to expose himself. His hand slipped under his clothes to touch and tease at his skin. You could see the barest hint of his abs peeking out from underneath the oversized sweater and you practically drooled at just the little bit of skin he showed off. You couldn’t help a small pout, frustrated at how unfair it was that you were putting in so much work for him and he could just so cutely masturbate alongside you. 

The frustration disappeared the moment you saw his eyelids flutter clothes and he let out a soft moan. It was the most beautiful sound in the world and it was infinitely better than anything you could have imagined. His blue eyes lidded with pleasure were only opened to a sliver as he urged you to continue what you were doing. 

With the camera rolling and the very vision of sin in front of you, you were more than eager to get back to getting off. Your finger found your clit and you rubbed it in the way that always made you see stars. “Hmmm, oh yeah…” You groaned, flicking your finger side to side before circling the little bundle of nerves. You were undoubtedly going to ruin his furniture again, but you didn’t care. 

Simeon watched the way your fingers moved and he mimicked everything you did. His hand under his shirt pinched and rolled his nipple between his fingers. The sensation made him hiss from the initial pain but that was quickly replaced by pleasure which sent jolts of bliss straight to his aching cock. He bit his lip, repeating the motion, drowning himself in the sensation over and over again. 

The scent of your essence was thick in the air. It felt like you were surrounding him with every breath he took. You were invading his every thought and infecting everything he thought was pure. But the freedom you gave him and the gratification that came with it was intoxicating. He couldn’t get enough of your breathy moans and the wet sounds of your fingers toying with yourself. 

His own hand in his pants pumped his cock in time with the motion of your fingers. At one point you had done the most lascivious thing and slipped a finger inside of you. His eyes widened as the digit disappeared and reappeared covered in your slick. His cock twitched in his hand in jealousy. He wanted to be buried in there, he wanted to feel your heat surround him. But all he had was his hand to satisfy him. 

Simeon was heavily panting now, working up to a frantic pace in his pants as his hand stroked his length. It was cramped and uncomfortable; but he couldn’t bear to expose himself to you. Surely that would be too much for you to see; and he wasn’t sure if he could control himself if he stripped alongside you. 

“Mmm, I’m getting close.” you groaned, rolling your hips to meet your fingers and you teased your clit further, feeling your body tense in preparation for your climax. “What about you?” 

“I… Uh.. I’m…” Simeon, stuttered, not able to process how close he was. It was so different from all the times he relieved himself alone. He just had to keep going until he was done. But with you in front of him, he wanted to do it together with you. Seeing your soaked pussy right in front of him made him more excited than he ever had been. “I think I’m close…” 

You laughed at his naivety. “You think?” You teased. Perhaps you needed to up the ante a bit. “Come on… come with me.” You beckoned and pressed two fingers into your tight hole. 

He blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what his hormones were doing. Seeing your fingers being engulfed by your pussy, sliding in and out slowly while you moaned right next to him was pressing all the right buttons in him. He could see you stretch to accommodate your fingers and he was entranced by that. Without warning, he gasped, his grip on his cock tightened as he came. “Oh … I’m… I’m sorry…” He panted. “You just… that was… Uhm..” 

“Too hot for you to handle?” You asked, now working yourself faster. The face he made when he came all of a sudden was so hot. You would definitely think back on it during lonely nights. Simeon’s breathy moans, the way his skin glowed with a thin sheen of sweat from exertion. It all added up to be a breathtaking image. 

“I...Yeah…” You could see the faintest hint of red on his cheeks and smirked, satisfied that he was enjoyed himself just as much as you were loving every moment you were in front of him. 

“Good… I guess it’s my turn then.” You said and went right into the motions of getting yourself to climax. Locking the image of Simeon’s “O” face in your mind, you finger fucked yourself closer and closer to completion. 

You could feel your inner walls tighten and you were just at the edge of no return when you felt Simeon’s firm hand pull your fingers away. Whining loudly and glaring at him, you were about to berate him for ruining your good time until your entrance was filled with his own slender fingers. “Let me help you…” He said, his bright blue eyes were lit with a determination you hadn’t seen before and the fire behind them was such a turn on. 

For someone who had just been so bashful about being intimate with you at the beginning, Simeon sure was being bold now. You didn’t say anything, not like you really could. Your capacity to form coherent words disappeared when his slender fingers entered you and mimicked the motions you had shown him. He was a fast learner, able to have you shivering with little to no effort. It was hard to believe just how he had a sudden switch in personality, but it was beside you to figure it out now. 

You were free to call his name. After all, he was the one touching you now. “Oh… Simeon.” you moaned, panting and once again ramping towards your climax. This time, he was in control of the pace and the intensity of what got you off. He curled his fingers in you and you cried out loud when he brushed past a sensitive spot in you. He was so gentle and so precise, it was mind blowing what he picked up just from watching you. 

“You’re close… right?” He asked sweetly. You looked at him and the intensity in his eyes was only made more obvious against his dark skin. The tone of his voice was in direct contrast to the laser focus his gaze had on your most intimate parts. Just the dichotomy of that alone inched you dangerously close to your climax. 

Then, his thumb pressed against your clit and your world exploded. It was just the last bit of stimulation you needed to go over the edge. You clutched onto the arms of the chair while you rode out the high on his fingers. A mixture of curses and his name fell from your lips as you breathlessly tried to ground yourself. Your inner walls clenched around his digits and Simeon continued to slowly slide them in and out of you, marveling at the sensation of your pussy milking his fingers. 

You kept seeing stars at the edge of your vision with every extra pass he took. You wanted to tell him to stop, but he was too engrossed in his ‘research’ to really pay any of your protests any mind. Eventually, he pulled his fingers out of you and you sighed in both relief and disappointment. 

Simeon looked at his glistening fingers, holding them to the light and observed the slick essence that coated them. It was almost a little embarrassing to watch him be so intrigued by your fluids that you needed to distract yourself by getting dressed again so you didn’t have to look at him. While you had your back turned, Simeon experimentally licked his coated fingers and by the time you were fully clothed, he had fully cleaned them off. He looked at you and licked his lips. “Research.” He said nonchalantly with a shrug. 

“Right… research.” you said, already getting hot and bothered again at what you had just witnessed. This man will be the end of me. “Do you think you’ve gotten all you need for your next scene?” 

“Hmm….” He nodded sagely, remembering to stop recording. “I’ll have to review everything, but I think I know where to go from here.” 

You smiled good naturedly and pat his head gently. “Don’t overwork yourself.” you said gathering your things. Once again, it had gotten late and you had to regretfully leave to ensure you caught the last trains home. “Call me or text me  if you need help again, okay?” 

“Oh, of course. I plan on it.” He smiled at you and your heart melted a little, but there was a devilish nature to that smile that had never been there before. “I’ll finish the next chapter probably in a week and send it to you.” 

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with. I’m sure it’ll be great, as usual.” You grinned, feeling giddy after such a great climax as well as knowing that Simeon was able to continue working. It would definitely be good news to report back to the publishing house and keep them off his back as he worked in peace. 

He let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. It was a shame that he was already back to his usual innocent self. You wouldn’t have minded seeing more of that sex god who showed himself a few moments before. “Well, I’ll do my best to not disappoint. I have a lot to learn.” 

“I’ll be sure to help you in any way I can.” You said. Looking down at your phone, you gasped noticing the time. “Shit. I gotta run if I don’t wanna walk all the way home tonight. Text me if you need anything!” You yelled, halfway across his home and stumbling to get your shoes back on. 

When the door slammed shut, the silence that surrounded Simeon was deafening. He had been able to hold out on taking you, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten a taste of what it was like to sin. The uncomfortable dampness of his cum clung to his leg, but he barely noticed it. Instead, he was focused on the file on his phone. The recording of what transpired that afternoon. 

Taking a shaky breath, he resisted the urge to press play. The scent of your arousal and the taste of your essence were still too fresh in his mind. He needed to clean up. He needed to work. He needed to research and plan for you. He sighed and started to make his way to the shower. If he needed relief, then at least he could take care of it there and not in the mess that was his soiled pants. 

As the sun sank past the horizon and gave way to night, the light within his soul waned and the darkness he had pushed aside grew. After a taste of sin, it was only natural that he would crave more until it consumed him. 

And it felt heavenly.

[keanureevesisbae]

“Never out of practice” - Chapter 7

Summary: When Darcie’s father loses an important case, a killer seeks revenge, by kidnapping the entire Angel family. Though John thought that he was officially retired, he has to save his Darcie and her family, because he can’t lose her.

John Wick x OFC Darcie

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Smut

Masterlist / Previous Chapter // Next chapter 

I’m just like my parents, I realize. I can’t not work. I’m a workaholic. During the hours that I should be in the cafe, I have no clue what to do with my time. I’m fidgeting, preparing myself a cup of coffee, bake something and I really want to walk with the dog, but my body is insanely sore, it’s almost impossible to walk around the apartment.

But, despite me trying to get over my withdrawals, John has been nothing but an angel for me. He preps the bed for me, makes sure that it’s comfortable enough and when he scoots in, he wraps his strong arms around me, kissing me on my temple, before whispering that he’ll always protect me. He cooks dinner for me. He goes to the store to get me certain ingredients for my baking or to get me a simple soda, simply because I mumbled to myself that I would like one. He massages me when I complain about a sore neck. He draws me baths so I can relax, sometimes joining me in the tub, sometimes bringing me wine.

Every night when the cafe closes, he gets in his car, so he can close off with my friends. And he doesn’t complain at all.

Finally, when it’s Sunday, a whole week after it all happened, I feel a little better. Psychically, I mean. Mentally I’m still a bit on edge, but with John near me and our sweet dogs, I somehow relax a bit.

Tomorrow will be my first official day of work again and I’m really looking forward. Our regular customers are worried about me, but Raye and Jennie said that I was doing fine, just a bit sick.

We haven’t told anyone about what happened. It’s a secret between my parents, Jennie, Raye, John and I (and well, maybe a lot of people associated with the Continental, but John told me not to worry about that). I want to keep it that way. The news is trying to track down Pete Stanford, but those certain dinner reservations will make it impossible for anyone to find him.

Those men are thorough.

I just got out of another hot bath and I do my night time skin care routine, with a towel wrapped around my body. I know that John is in the guest room, where we placed a table for his bookbinding. I get myself ready for bed and decide to go find him.

This past week, our conversations have been very light. He would watch movies with me, where he’d point out a few things that bothered him. I would try to teach him how to make a decent cappuccino, but his milk frothing skills aren’t very promising.

John sits with his back to the door, but obviously he knows when I’m entering the room, because he says: ‘Hi sweetheart, how was your bath?’

‘Good. When you prepare them, I always enjoy it a little extra.’ I wrap my arms around him and whisper: ‘It looks good. You’re so talented.’

John was already finishing up, because he turns his face to kiss me. ‘Come here,’ he whispers. I sit on his lap, my face to his and he wraps his arms around my waist. ‘You know,’ he confesses, ‘I love you no matter what, but when you don’t wear make-up, my heart always skips a beat.’

‘Why is that?’

‘I don’t know,’ he laughs. ‘You just look extra squishy.’

‘Squishy?’ I repeat, before chuckling. ‘Never thought you would be a man that said squishy.’

‘I keep on surprising. Are you happy that you’re going to work again tomorrow?’

‘I am,’ I say. ‘I mean staying here for an entire week with you, was fantastic and well needed, but… I really need to make someone else a cappuccino or something.’

John smiles. ‘I know. How are you feeling overall?’

‘Sometimes my back hurts a little, but I was thrown against a wall at least one time. It still hurts when I carry something heavy, but I know that you’re staying at the cafe a lot more, so you probably won’t mind helping me out?’

He shakes his head. ‘Anything remotely heavy, I’ll carry it for you.’

‘What are you thinking about?’ I ask him, placing my hands on his bearded cheeks. ‘You look worried.’

‘The day you were taken,’ he says in a hushed tone, ‘you and I had a talk about the future. The entire day I was thinking about it, how you and I might have kids walking around here. How we talked about names.’

‘I know,’ I whisper. ‘But despite what happened, that idea is not off the table.’

‘I know, I know,’ he quickly says.

I can feel he gets uncomfortable and to be honest, I kind of understand. I feel like he is still beating himself up for crying in the car. He has seen me cry a billion times. I think I even cried when I saw Roger and Ellie for the first time together.

John has been my safe place, to spot where I can cry and that he won’t judge me. I know it was a huge step for him—as unwillingly as it may was—to cry in the car.

I carefully press my lips against him. ‘John,’ I whisper, ‘I love you so insanely much.’

‘I love you too, baby.’

‘I don’t want to let you go, like ever.’

He smiles against my lips. ‘I won’t let that happen.’ He lifts me up and carries me to our bedroom. It’s still a bit early, around eight p.m., but I’ve been feeling pretty tired and worn out. ‘You look in pain,’ he whispers, when he placed me on the bed. ‘Are you okay?’

For a few moments I’m mesmerized when he takes off his shirt and pants, to join me under the blankets. I stare at the scars on his chest, his cross tattoo on his shoulder. I have admired his back tattoo for so long, that I feel like I know it by heart now. ‘Just my back.’

John sits up and pats the spot between his legs. ‘I’ll take care of it. Come on, sit.’

I take place between his legs and his fingers press expertly in my muscles. Sure I enjoy it, but when he presses against a certain tight knot in my back, I wince in pain. ‘Sorry, sweetheart.’

Without meaning to, I let out a soft cry. I bury my face in my hands.

John simply wraps his strong arms around my shaking body. ‘Let it all out, Darcie,’ he tells me.

God knows how long I’ve been bottling up emotions. I mean, sure, I’ve cried in these past few days, but this…

When I sniffle and dry my tears, I ask: ‘Weren’t you worried that once you had saved me and my family, you’d have to go back, if the Continental didn’t give you that dinner reservations on behave of them?’

‘No,’ he says. ‘I’d get out for you over and over again, because I can’t live without you.’

⟢⟡⟣

The next morning, Greg, Tina and Roger are way too happy to see me, that I almost think that they need a life outside of this cafe. They all hug me pretty tight and I can’t help but chuckle. ‘We missed you so much, miss Angel,’ Roger says.

‘I missed you guys too. Because you are such regulars and I wasn’t here last week, you’re getting your order on the house,’ I say with a smile.

‘You are the best, miss Angel.’ They all sit at the table near John, chatting away. I always like it when John talks to them. It gives me a vision of the future, how he is willing to sit down with his own kids, no matter how old they are to talk to them about life. While I’m preparing their orders, I feel this sharp pain in my back. Maybe I’ve been standing a little bit too long. Damn, I feel old.

‘Okay, baby, you need to take a break.’

‘John,’ I say, looking to the side. ‘You were talking to the Greg, Roger and Tina.’

‘I know, but I notice everything.’ He huffs, before laughing. ‘I’m your boyfriend, it’s my job to worry.’ John presses a kiss on my temple. ‘Please, take a break.’

‘I will, after I finish up. Raye will be right back and then I’ll sit at your table.’

‘I’ll carry it to their table,’ John says. ‘Please, you need to be careful.’ He places his large hand on the small of my back and I can’t help but smile. He has been so thoughtful for the past week and everything he does, he does without complaining, without thinking. It makes me feel so loved, so noticed.

I finish up the order and John carries it to their table. Raye arrives from the back, with a bucket full of new ice. ‘I’m taking a break, Raye, okay?’

‘Of course,’ she says. She looks over to the side, to see if anyone is listening and whispers: ‘Go sit with daddy.’

‘Yeah okay, bye,’ I say, but I can’t help but laugh. I grab my rose tea and walk to his table. I sit across from him. ‘So, what’s your plan for today?’ I ask him.

‘Well, first I’m going to accompany you during your break and then I’m going to walk the dogs. After that I finish up some books and I’m going to pick you up, obviously.’

‘You know, you’d think I’d be sick of you, after spending this much time with you,’ I joke, ‘but somehow I’m still counting down the minutes until I get to see you again.’

John smiles. ‘Me too.’

‘I have to ask this: aren’t you bored? I mean, your life was so action packed and last week you kind of went back and now you’re doing what you do. Sitting in my cafe and walking the dogs.’ I shrug, but to be honest, it has been keeping me quite busy. What if he misses it? What if I’m holding him back?

He holds out his hand and I place mine in his. ‘I don’t miss that life. At all. Having to go back for a brief moment, was necessary, but I don’t want to go back.’ John’s thumb caresses my fingers and he says: ‘I’m finally enjoying life again. I’m binding books, I can sit at your cafe every day and I walk our dogs.’ He brings my fingers to his lips. ‘And maybe one day, when we have kids, I can sit here with them after I picked them up from school. This can be their second home. We’d watch you working and they can see with their own eyes what a lovely and caring personality their mom has and how you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.’ John shakes his head and says: ‘Not for a second I miss my previous life. I’m so ready to start over with you. So don’t you worry about that for a second, okay?’

That is so sweet.

‘You’re having a kid?’ Roger says, turning around.

‘Oh my God, miss Angel, are you pregnant?’ Greg butts in.

Tina smiles. ‘Is that why you weren’t here last week?’

‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘I’m not pregnant.’

‘Good,’ Roger says, ‘because my mom always says that it’s better if you get married first. Little old school, but since you both are old school, it fits.’

‘Are you calling me old?’ I ask. ‘I can still spit in your coffee, Roger.’

He chuckles. ‘No, you’re not old, miss Angel.’

Greg smiles at us. ‘Well, why were you talking about kids then?’

‘That’s what adults do,’ Tina says, rolling her eyes. ‘They think about the future. Miss Angel, I think it’s so romantic that you two are talking about kids. I bet they will be the cutest little kids ever.’

Why am I blushing?’

‘I totally agree with Tina,’ John says. ‘I mean, every kid is cute, but ours will be the cutest of course.’

‘If you have a boy, will you call him Roger?’

‘And be constantly reminded of you?’ I ask, cocking an eyebrow. ‘No way, knowing one Roger is already bad enough.’

‘Ouch,’ he say, placing his hand on his chest, before he laughs.

‘Are you going to have kids soon?’ Tina asks us.

John chuckles. ‘Well, I’m kind of an old fashion man, so before we’re having kids, I want to be get married to her.’

‘Really?’ I ask him.

‘Yeah, totally.’

‘You should propose to her when the two of you are here,’ Greg suggests.

‘If you do that, John, I swear to God, I’ll say no.’

John starts to laugh and says: ‘No worries sweetheart, I won’t propose to you in the cafe.’

⟢⟡⟣

John already brought Tiki and Oreo home, because he took them out three times to walk them today. Despite that, he is still really worried about me. He doesn’t want me to clean the tables, because that can’t be good for my back, so I’m sitting on the counter, waiting for him to be done.

Raye is at Logan’s place, to have sex and Jennie also went home. She looked really tired and I think that’s because she couldn’t stop worrying about me. Poor Jennie.

‘John, I can help you,’ I say, but he simply shakes his head. ‘Why not?’

‘I’m almost done.’

‘We have to finish up the kitchen too.’

John looks up and says: ‘I know.’

‘I can already start.’

He shakes his head. ‘No, please, sweetheart. I’ve got it.’ He scrubs the last table, giving me full sight of his bottom. I remember when he hung up those posters in the cafe, before we started even dating and my flushed cheeks when I stared at his ass a little too long.

John walks up to me and stands between my legs. ‘What is it?’ he asks with an amused smile.

‘I thought about how you hung up those posters,’ I whisper. ‘I remember that when I got back home, I had such lovely dreams of you with a toolbox.’

John starts to laugh and I fall in love a bit more. I think everyday I fall in love with him more. How this man can have this effect on me, I still try to figure that out.

‘I remember you blushing because you were staring at my ass.’

My eyes grow wider. ‘What?’

‘And you said ‘just a little warm’, but you hadn’t noticed that I was checking you out in the reflection of the cafe windows.’

I bring my hands to my face. ‘That is so embarrassing, John. I thought I was being sneaky.’

‘Well, you weren’t,’ John says, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. ‘I felt really good about myself,’ he adds.

‘You idiot,’ I chuckle. I bring my lips to his, to give him a kiss, but then he scoots me up. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m going to clean the kitchen and you are going to sit there and watch.’ He presses multiple kisses on my cheek and places me on a clean part of the hard surface where Jennie always works.

We chatter a bit, about the most useless things. I like talking about useless things with John. In the beginning of us dating, I thought every conversation had to have a hidden meaning, or just be very Shakespearean. But then one day he mentions that he never understood why people like chai latte and we had an hour long conversation about chai lattes, that literally went no where.

I carefully lower myself to the floor. John literally hears everything, because while he is talking to me and with his back turned to me, but he looks over his shoulder. ‘Sweetheart, what are you doing?’

I walk towards him and stand on my toes, so I can fold my hands in the back of his neck. I pull him a bit forward, so I can kiss him. ‘I love you, John,’ I whisper. ‘Thank you for cleaning up.’

‘Sweetie, of course.’ He smiles. ‘Last week you said that I was looking at you with my bedroom eyes, but the same can be said about you now.’

God, I hate it when I blush like this. Why do I have to blush about those things? I’m thirty one for crying out loud and John and I have been dating for a year and a half. This shouldn’t make me shy.

John pushes up my knitted sweater and the tank top I’m wearing underneath and he places his warm hands on my bare skin. The entire week he has been being really careful, even when it came to sex. He didn’t want to hurt me and whenever he saw my wrists (that are healing, thank God) he’d stop.

But I missed him so much.

‘Well,’ I whisper, ‘are you going to wait until we’re home?’

Though our sex life is pretty vanilla, it begins to spice up every now and then. I somehow manage to be a little bit louder, though it’s still hard for me to do sometimes. But sex at the cafe?

I have never done that, but looking at John right now, it makes it really difficult not to undress completely.

John chuckles, while his eyes turn a shade darker. ‘No,’ he whispers. He unbuttons my pants and pulls it down with my underwear, as he crouches down in front of me. He kisses my inner thigh, softly sucking on the tender skin, his tongue tracing the stretch marks I have there.

My fingers are tangled in his long locks and his beard scratches the sensitive skin. When he’s near my aching center, I feel his wet fingertip between my lips. ‘God, baby,’ he whispers, ‘so wet already.’

He pushes one in, earning him a stiffened moan from me. He places his mouth over my clit, before he sucks on the sensitive bud. He pushes in another one and I take a fistful of his hair.

John stands up and while him kissing me, he keeps on fingering me. Rougher than usually. ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he says, ‘tell me how you feel.’

‘But what if anyone hears?’ I ask in a tiny voice.

‘No one will hear,’ he tells me. ‘We locked the door, no one can hear or see us in here.’ He places his other hand in the back of my neck and whispers: ‘Please.’

His fingers brush against a sensitive spot, but when he pushes in a third finger, I moan out against his lips. ‘Shit, John.’

‘That’s it,’ he says.

I’m nearing my orgasm, but before I can even tell John, he pulls out his fingers. ‘No, John,’ I whine. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘Open your mouth,’ he tells me. He brings his fingers covered in my juices to my lips and I hold onto his wrist as I suck his long and thick fingers clean. ‘You look really good doing this,’ he admits.

He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and kisses me so deeply, that I’m almost out of breath by the time he lets go of me. Without telling me anything, he turns me around and bends me over the cold table. I hear him unwrapping a condom and when I look over my shoulder, as I see him rolling it on.

John smiles at me. ‘I love you, Darcie.’ I feel his tip near my cunt and I let out a moan when he slowly sinks in. My walls stretch around him and I place my head on the table.

‘John, please, harder,’ I beg, clenching my hands into fists.

‘Only if you promise me to let me know how you feel, baby.’

I nod. ‘Okay.’

John holds onto my hips and slams inside of me. I moan out and he starts to pick up the speed with his thrusts. I bite my lip, another moan desperate to escape from my mouth. ‘Darcie, remember what you’d promise me.’

‘Fuck, John, you’re so big.’

‘That’s my girl,’ he says, squeezing my hips.

Every time he slides inside, my hipbones slamming against the table. My legs are quivering and I let out a sob. ‘John, I’m close.’

‘I know you are, good thing I am too.’

I can’t keep quiet anymore, as my orgasm washes over me. ‘You feel so fucking tight around me,’ John grunts, before his thrusts are getting sloppy. As he rides out his high, I somehow manage to catch my breath. I feel his chest pressed against my back as he pulls me up and he leaves wet kisses in my neck.

John pulls out of me and throws the condom in the trash. I hear him zip up his pants, before he hoists up mine, helping me to get decent again. I button up my pants and John turns me around, a smile evident on his beautiful face.

‘I can’t believe we had sex here,’ I say with pink blushes on my cheeks.

‘Me neither,’ John laughs. ‘Never knew you were into the whole public thing.’

‘Shut up.’

He lifts me on the table and gives me a sweet peck. ‘Did I hurt you?’

I shake my head. ‘No, not at all. I have to tell you one thing, though.’

‘Okay?’

‘You need to take out that thrash bag, because I don’t want anyone to see a used condom in the bottom of the bin. If Raye finds that, she’ll haunt me with that until we are retired and maybe even longer.’

Taglist: @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @flhorah​ @allie1804-fan @cynic-spirit​ @raven-black102

[lovinitkpop]

Brown Sugar and Honey

This one is about a new girl group at SM. You could say EXO sister group there may be a love line put in it who really knows. I mean I know but then again I might not know. Heads up I’m sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes after rereading it over and over I can’t deal with it.

Oh the reason I came up with this title is because the main OC is black and DO KyungSoo looks damn sexy and handsome when his skin is dark and tan and NOT WHITE WASHED!!!!! STOP THE WHITE WASHING!!!!!!!!

If there is a love line then it will be my first Kyungsoo series. Hope you like it but if you don’t guess what I don’t give two shits leave my blog then. Anyways enjoy bye.

Warnings: Fluffy, Angst, Language, Bullying, Stupid, May not make senses, Brain frat, May not have smut, Trigger, Suicide talk, Racism, Blood, etc.

Pairing: OC x DO Kyungsoo

Chapter 40

December 4, 2019

Renesmee walks around the setting smiles. “Rai this perfect thank you so much.” She’s says turning in a circle.

Rai nods handing off some equipment to the staff. “Can you breathe in that outfit?” He asks looking at Renesmee.

“Yeah I’m fine, as long as no one knows it’s me.” Renesmee replies tilting her head pushing her hair back.

“I’m shocked that you can hide your face still.” Rai says as he looks around making sure everything is ready.  “So who did you get for the guy?”

“Déshì said he got his cousin to do it.” Renesmee says pulling off her mask smiling. “Yeah so I’m good plus the staff doesn’t even care nor do they know.”

“Hello Nessie right?”

Renesmee turns around looking up. “Hi you must be Déshì cousin?” She says bowing to him and he bows back.

“Yes and I’ve been informed about everything.” The male says smiling at her. “My name is Lei.”

Rai looks back the staff then Renesmee. “It looks like everything is ready, all windows are blacked out.” He says nodding walking around. “And staff is gone just us.”

He adds as the staff leaves the building. Lei smiles tilting his head. “I think what you’re doing is great.” He says and she nods.

“Thank you.” Renesmee replies. “I should go get changed, Rai will help you.” She speaks before walking off.

Once everything was set they get started filming for the day. “Okay you two let’s get started.” Rai says and they both nod getting ready.

“Music!”

“And action!”

As the day starts Renesmee and Lei spend majority of the morning filming the video. Lei sits there as they take a small break. Renesmee yawns laying on the floor.

“Nice contacts by the way.” Lei says looking over at her. Renesmee rolls over looking at him.

“Thank you.” She says smiling and he tilts his head humming.

“He was right.” Lei says and Renesmee sits up looking at him.

“What?”

Renesmee asks and Lei just smiles shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it just something Déshì told me.” Lei says and she just nods.

“Okay we need to change outfits and contacts.” Rai says walking back over and Renesmee jumps up. “The first four takes were great.”

“That’s good so I can take off the straitjacket?” She asks and Rai nods helping her take off the jacket. “I wonder could I get this is black?”

“I swear you are so weird.” Rai says putting the jacket to the side.

“No I’m the devil.” She replies smiling as she jumps around. “Okay let’s get this day over with.”

“Let’s start from the beginning in this outfit then change again.” Rai says as Renesmee walks back over getting into place. “Lei you can relax for a while before we bring you back in.”

Renesmee sits in the floor on her knees. Rai gets the camera set. He nods getting the music ready. “Okay and action!”

December 10, 2019

Rosalie walks next to Renesmee as they look around. “Friday is the grand opening are you ready?” She asks looking back at her phone.

Renesmee hums as she checks out the café. “Yeah everything looks amazing, I’m so happy they got everything done in time.” She smiles seeing all the little decorations.

“Thank you again for all your help.”

“Anything for my precious little flower.” Rosalie says looking up from her phone. “So let’s go we can go eat now.”

Renesmee nods pulling her hood back up putting her shades on. “I love the cold.” Renesmee says running outside pulling her mask up.

Rosalie shakes her head watching her as she pulls her keys out. She unlocks the car walking over as Renesmee dances around. Renesmee smiles seeing all the snow.

“Get in the car.”

Renesmee giggles running over getting into the car. They head into town looking for something for eat. “What do you want for Christmas?” Renesmee asks pulling out her phone.

“What?”

“What do you want for Christmas I’ll get you anything?” She asks again looking up some clothes.

“You don’t have to get me anything sweetie.” Rosalie says shaking her head. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Staying home watching movies.” She replies going through her pictures. “But until then I’m very busy.”

Once they finish eating they head to SM Entertainmnet. “So again no one knows I’m the hidden angel.” Renesmee says pulling her phone out her pocket. “Oh thanks for lunch.”

“No problem and I know that already.” Rosalie replies looking over at her. “So how far are you on the letters?”

Renesmee sighs looking out the window. “Must we talk about this?” She says pushing her hair back.

“Yes.”

“I’ve done some of the letters if that’s what you want to know.” Renesmee speaks as she leans back in her seat closing her eyes.

“And the book?”

“Ugh look I’m doing it okay, I promise I’m working on it.” Renesmee answers causing Rosalie to just laugh watching her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why is it every time I ask you anything about your relationship you shut down?” Rosalie asks as she stops at the light.

“I don’t know okay, I’m being honest with you.” Renesmee starts off looking at her lap as she sits there. “I love him I swear, when I’m with I’m happy and my brain isn’t running wild.”

“I can relax, plus I can actually sleep without waking up screaming.” She goes on running her fingers through her hair. “But that’s the problem I feel like everything is going too well; nothing ever works for me.”

“I’m just siting here waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Why do you think something bad always happens to you?” Rosalie asks pressing the gas once the light turns green.

“Because that is my life, kiddnapped twice plus I lost my memory; nothing good happens to me or for me.”

“Why do you think I did all this as hidden figure.”

“I guess I understand, but I promise things will get better.” Rosalie says ruffling Renesmee hair.

Renesmee whines closing her eyes and Rosalie just smiles. Rosalie pulls up to the company and parks the car turning it off. They both get out and look around before heading inside.

“Come on let’s go.” Renesmee says running up to the doors.

“What’s the rush?” Rosalie asks following behind her.

Renesmee stops in her track hearing her mom. She stands there thinking for a minute. “I don’t know.” Renesmee says looking at Rosalie.

“Then stop running.” Rosalie says as she starts walking again.

Renesmee hums following her as she looks at her phone. “Oh here they are.” Renesmee speaks as they turn the corner seeing the other girls.

They both head into the practice room looking around. “Okay where have you been?” Li Jie asks seeing them walk in.

“With her.” Renesmee says pointing to her mom.

Li Jie nods seeing her and Rosalie just smiles. “Ah Rosalie how are you today?” Jie looks away thinking and Renesmee hums watching him.

“Relax Jie I’m not mad anymore, besides I’m here to drop her off.” Rosalie pulling her phone out. “So what are they doing today?”

Jie hums looking back at her tilting his head. “Practice then going over tomorrow schedule.” He answers as he checks his phone.

“Yeah we have a signing thing tomorrow and a photoshoot.” Xiaoling says as she sits on the floor stretching.

“Unnie and I have a MV to film next week with Ten and Taeyong.” Moka says nodding and Renesmee hums.

“Oh that’s right heh I completely forgot about that.” Renesmee says putting her bag down. “I’m glad I’m off Friday.”

“How?” Chaoxing asks looking back at her.

“Remember twice a week I see the doctor.” Renesmee replies sliding next to Roxay as she sits in the floor. “I went Monday now I go Friday.”

“What did they say?” Roach asks looking at Renesmee.

“Well Monday for some reason my iron was low so they gave me some iron in fusions and a shot for my back.”

“That sounds painful.” Sora says drinking from her tumblr.

“Not really the shot did help with my back pain.”

“Okay I’ll pick you Friday morning, I have some paperwork to do before going back to work.” Rosalie says looking at her file and Renesmee looks back at her.

“Okay let me know when you’re done, bye.” Renesmee says as her mother walks out the room.

December 13, 2019

Renesmee stands in her office on the 4th floor looking out the window. “Are you sure you want to go out there alone?” Déshì asks seeing the crowd of people and press.

“Yeah my face and body is hidden so I’m good.” Renesmee says as she fixes her mask. “Besides if one of you go out there everyone will know I’m the Hidden Angel, I mean look at all the press.”

“She’s right everyone knows the Hidden Angel is an SM idol and Nessie has been seen with all of us in pubic.” Rosalie says folding her arms looking out the window as well. “Just be careful.”

Renesmee nods before walking out heading to the lobby going outside. As she makes her way to the front doors security stands there waiting for her.

“Are you ready ma’am?” One guard asks as she makes her way over.

“Yes let’s go.” Renesmee nods and they open the door. The guards walk Renesmee outside standing by her as the camera start snapping away.

One of the assistance runs out making his way over to Renesmee. “Hello everyone.” He start speaking holding a mic. “We really weren’t expecting a grand opening like this.”

Renesmee looks around watching everyone. “Here’s the star of the hour to say a few words; and officially open Safe Heaven my boss the Hidden Angel!”

Renesmee takes the mic bowing her head. She looks back at the crowd thinking. “Hi hehe, thank you for everyone who came to the opening of Safe Heaven a completely free and safe place for anyone to get help.” She starts speaking disguising her voice.

“There are too many deaths in this world most of them caused from depression; so I bought this place giving everyone who wants to or need to get help for free.”

“I know it may seem unreal but it’s true, some people can’t afford to seek help or don’t trust some to ask for help.” Renesmee says nodding her head looking through her mask. “It doesn’t matter if you’re famous or just a school kid anyone can come here.”

“The only thing you pay for is the café or cafeteria food; but everything else is free here.”

“I’m paying these people and the bills of this building out my pocket; everything is in confidence here unless you give word that it’s okay to give your information out.”

The guards look around checking out everything as she talks. Renesmee hums looking at all the cameras. “So please no matter who you are please use this service seek help; all it takes is one step to start a journey in staying alive or helping someone find help.”

“I know a lot of you came to see if I would reveal myself not yet I’m sorry; but to all my fellow idols out there please.”

“I know it hard and we can’t always ignore the comments and stuff so please if you really wanna stay with your friends come here and talk or relax get rid of the stress.”

Renesmee looks back at her assistant leaning over whispering in his ear. “Now I know this building is big so my lovely assistant Sungmin will explain the many kind of rooms here for people seeking help.”

Renesmee smiles even though no one can see. “Again thank you all for coming out and remember you always have an angel to talk to, bye.” She waves before bowing walking back inside.

Two guards follow behind her as the other two stay with Sungmin. He starts talking after Renesmee gives him the mic back. She makes her way up to her office.

Renesmee waves the guards off as she enters the elevator. They bow walking off making sure everything is good. Once she makes it to her office she hums hearing her phone go off.

“I say you handled that very well.” Rai says smiling at her. “I’ll have my people upload the video first so no one can twist your words.” He adds and Renesmee nods walking over to her desk.

“Now I hired Sungmin for a reason.” Rosalie speaks up looking up from her phone. “You still stay with the group, you can’t always be here.”

“Plus I won’t let you push yourself that far.”

“Yes ma’am I understand.” Renesmee replies grabbing her phone. “I’m going to go I have other I need to do, plus I promised the girls I would cook.”

“Have fun with that, oh and your doctor said your blood work came back.” Her mother speaks up again.

“And?”

Renesmee hums as she starts changing outfits. “You could have waited till we left.” Déshì says looking away and Rai smirks turning away.

“Your iron level is back up so you are good.” Rosalie says looking over at Renesmee.

“Yay.” Renesmee says as she finishes putting her pants on. She grabs her hat and mask putting them on before grabbing her phone and bag. “Bye thank you guys.”

Renesmee quickly runs towards the back staircase making her exit. As Renesmee makes her way to her car her phone starts ringing again. “Hello how my I help you?” She says getting into her car tossing her bag to the side.

“Why didn’t you pick up the first time?” Jongin whines and she just shakes her head as she starts her car. “Answer me.”

“I was busy you big baby.” Renesmee says pulling out onto the street. “What was with the weird text?” She asks turning the corner opting to head to the company.

“One I’m not a baby and two that was a hint.” Jongin responds and Renesmee laughing picturing the pout on his face.

“You’re pouting aren’t you?” She questions biting her tongue.

Jongin hums looking at his phone. “What no I’m not why would I be pouting?” He speaks his voice shaking.

“Cause you’re a baby.” She says giggling as she drives.

Jongin sighs and she just laughs. “Stop being mean to me.” Jongin whines causing Renesmee to laugh again.

“Okay alright tell me already.” Renesmee says stopping at a light. “What hint, hint about what?”

“That I wanna start working on my solo and want your help.” Jongin says and Renesmee smirks shaking her head.

“Okay where are you now?” She asks looking out the window as she pulls up to a small café.

“Right now I’m heading to the company to practice.” He replies and she nods turning the car. “Where are you?” He asks and Renesmee smiles getting out the car.

“I stopped at a near by café to get me some sweets before heading to the company.” Renesmee says as she opens the door walking inside.

“Oh get me something.”

“Like what?”

“Small cake you pick and an ice coffee, I could use some energy right now.”

“Ew gross but okay see you when I get there.”

[pocket-anon]

The Long Way Home (9/10)

A fic update at a decent hour? *gasp* Amazing how much more you can accomplish when you're not working 12 hours a day, isn't it? This chapter got a bit away from me in terms of length, but I hope you all like it. You guys have been amazing and said the most wonderful, effusive things about this story, and I really can't thank you enough for all your continuing support. Your words have been a gift. Enjoy!

As always, thanks to my beta, @captainstudmuffin, and to @lifeinahole27, @clockadile, and @ladyciaramiggles for their additional feedback.  Additional thanks to my wonderful CSBB artists, @waiting-for-autumn and @giraffes-ride-swordfishes for providing some gorgeous artwork to accompany this fic!  Links to their illustrations of certain scenes (*) will be in the text - go show them some love!

Find it on AO3.  Nautical term glossary here.

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Summary:  After an unnaturally long life fraught with personal tragedy, Killian Jones has become known throughout the realms as the infamous Captain Hook, an opportunistic ne’er-do-well and one of the most formidable pirates to ride the waves.  When he crosses paths with a mysterious young woman with no memory of who she is or how she arrived there, he recognizes the chance to claim a monetary reward that will constitute his biggest score yet.  But a journey across the world to get her home leads to a series of adventures that reveal that her value lies in far more than gold and jewels.  A Captain Swan Anastasia AU - sort of.  (Captain Swan Enchanted Forest AU.  Romance, Adventure, & Eventual Smut.  Rated E.)

Warning: Brief but graphic depictions of violence, peripheral character death, and smut.

When Emma finally emerges from below deck, refreshed and tidied up a bit, a great shout arises, with Smee roaring to the rest of the men, “Three cheers for the Lady!  Hip-hip!”

“Hurray!”

“Hip-hip!

“Hurray!”

“Hip-hip!”

“Hurray!”

Killian sets his sextant on the sideboard and comes to meet her, beaming as the Princess, glowing with joy and embarrassment, is swarmed by his rough-and-tumble crew.  They descend upon her to bestow hugs and kisses as if she were a beloved sister, and her exhilarated laughter can be heard in the ensuing commotion.  

“Alright, alright, mates,” he barks, waving his hook hand in feigned annoyance as Martin rounds out the pack by giving Emma a hug that lifts her boots right off the boards.  “Give the Lady some space.”

Martin sets Emma back on her feet, and the men back up a little, the cheerful din dying down.

“We have news,” Killian announces.  “Some of you are aware that our lovely Swan had lost all memories of her life prior to arriving in Vicarstown.  But the curse that was responsible has been broken, and I’m in a position now to introduce you all to Her Royal Highness, Emma,” he turns his head and favors her with a proud smile, “Princess of Misthaven.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd, and the men gape, a few of them removing their headwear and giving Emma deferential bobs of their heads.

“The plan remains the same,” he continues, his tone taking on a stern edge, “We get her safely home. But there is some urgency to the matter now, so we must make haste.  Am I understood?”  He nods at the scattered calls of acknowledgement, and the tiniest of grins tugs at his mouth. “Extra drink tonight to celebrate the Princess’ recovery, but none for those I catch idling.  Back to work!”

At his command, the crew disperses in good spirits, and Killian turns to see Emma’s knowing smirk. He smiles, puzzled.  “What?”

“You’re in a good mood.”

He lifts her hand into the crook of his arm and leads her on a stroll astern.  “Can you blame me?” he asks quietly in her ear.

Emma ducks her head as though to hide the flush in her cheeks and the way she bites her lip.  “I guess not.”  They arrive at the aft rail, and she releases his arm, turning to squint up at him in the sunlight.  “Time for morning inspection?”

“Aye,” he agrees with a rueful grin.

“Want to spar this afternoon?”

Killian allows himself to grin like a cad, and he leans down so his breath warms her cheek.  “With swords or below deck?” he teases. “Because my answer is yes.”

“Hmm.”  She colors again, rolling her eyes even as she tries to suppress her smile.  “Maybe I should magic your sword away in the middle of practice today.”

“That’s hardly fighting fair, darling.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, and her green eyes glint impishly, “maybe there is a little pirate in me.”

His mouth falls open in a thrilled smile, and he revels in the innuendo, whether she intends it or not. “If you’re trying to tempt me to drag you back to bed,” he mutters in her ear, “it’s working.”  

Emma chuckles.  “To your post, Captain,” she says, gracefully slipping out of his reach.  “I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  He watches her walk away, admiring the subtle sway of her hips and trying not to focus on the memory of how he gripped those hips between his hand and stump as he knelt atop his berth and took her from behind scarcely an hour before.  He groans inwardly.  Gods, but he’s a lucky bastard.

Roberts approaches and follows his gaze.  “She seems to have come through the storm well enough,” he remarks, throwing Killian an astute sideways glance.

Killian quickly puts his prurient thoughts aside and arcs an eyebrow at his quartermaster.  “Say what you mean, Old Man.”

Roberts is no fool, and he chooses his words carefully.  “It looks as though you two have reached a new understanding,” he observes.  “She looks… very happy.”

Killian allows himself one more muted but self-satisfied smile as his eyes continue to follow the Princess across the deck.  “Aye,” he answers softly.

“Well, forgive me for sayin’ it’s about bloody time.”  Killian turns his head to fix him with an incredulous grin, and Roberts shrugs. “What?  We aren’t blind.”  He rubs the back of his head.  “And she really is the Princess.”

“You doubted me?”

The quartermaster snorts. “Like I don’t know better.”  He shuffles his feet a bit.  “What becomes of you when we return ‘er to ‘er kingdom?”

Killian’s smile fades, and he looks away, his throat tightening.  “That remains to be seen,” he admits at last.

Roberts hesitates, as though weighing the risk of asking another question.  “Would you let ‘er go?”

“Back to work, Mr. Roberts,” Killian orders quietly.  He rotates away to face the rail and directs his eyes blankly out over the water.

He can all but hear the other man’s sigh of resignation.  “Aye, sir.” The boards creak beneath his feet as he retreats.

Killian stares out over their wake, miles upon miles of traversed ocean stretching out behind them. They’ve come so far, he thinks somberly. The thought of sailing away from Emma, of saying goodbye and choosing the sea over a life with her, causes his stomach to clench.  Never.  But what will that mean for the crew?  For the Jolly?  His hand drifts absently over the painted yellow rail.  This ship has been his home for over a century, his most constant and enduring companion, and as much a part of him as anything in his life.  A captain’s heart belongs to his ship, Liam had been fond of boasting.

The sound of Emma’s enthusiastic call causes Killian to look over his shoulder, and he turns partway round to watch her join a few of the men in trimming the sails.  The corner of his mouth quirks fondly, and there’s a sad smile in his eyes as they flit about the ship.  Sorry, Old Girl, he thinks with a resigned sigh, his gaze returning to the Emma’s shining face.  My heart belongs to another now.

The morning passes swiftly, what with there being three days’ worth of issues – issues Smee had wisely determined could wait until the Captain was fully available – to deal with. Most have to do with the blessedly limited damage they sustained in the storm and the loss of supplies that had washed overboard.  Thankfully, none of the concerns prove to be truly serious or difficult to address, though Killian is still vastly grateful at midday when the audible gurgle of Smee’s stomach causes his first mate to stuff the dog-eared list of items back into his pocket and decide the remaining entries can be dealt with later.

Sword fighting practice with Emma is enjoyable and satisfying as always.  The Princess’ skills continue to progress nicely, and he allows her to try disarming him today, crowing triumphantly when she finally succeeds in loosening his grip and forcing his blade out of his hand.  It clatters to the raised platform housing the mid-deck hatch.

“Very good!” he commends her, holding his arms up in mock surrender.

“Is this the part where you beg for mercy?” she teases, advancing on him with an irresistible smile on her lips and the tip of her cutlass aimed at his throat.

He grins and surprises her by stepping on the tip of his sword and flipping it over the edge of the platform.  The grip lands back in his hand, and steel clangs again as he catches her blade effortlessly.  “Pirates don’t beg.”  Killian savors the breathless admiration on her face with a chuckle and pulls his cutlass back in order to assume another fighting stance.  “But you’re welcome to keep trying.  Again!”

 *             *             *

As promised, they enjoy a night of celebration out on deck, with the crew milling about and Thomas handing out portions of the evening meal from a makeshift station he sets up on a couple large crates.  When everyone is outfitted with food and grog, he leaves to fetch more water and rum for the second round of drink.  He returns to find Emma using what remains of the near-empty water cask to mix a few more cups of grog for the men.

She meets his stunned stare with a knowing smile as she hands a cup over to Roberts.  “Hope you don’t mind me standing in for a minute,” she says cheerfully, holding the next cup out to him.  “I do have some serving experience, you know.”

Thomas sets the new cask and bottles he’s carrying down and accepts the cup with a little laugh.  “Yes, mil—Your Highness.”  He raises it to her and then sips, his eyes lighting with pleasant surprise.

Emma smirks.  “Taste alright?”

He nods enthusiastically, drinking again and swishing the watered-down spirits around in his mouth. “For a princess, you make a pretty good pirate,” he comments shyly.  “Never knew that day you asked to climb the mast how well you’d take to…” he waves his hand around the ship, “all of this.”

Emma chuckles, handing a cup to Martin and grinning as the carpenter accepts it with a comical little bow and moves off.  “I have my parents to thank for that, I guess.”

He cocks his head quizzically and sits down next to her to open the new cask.  “I thought you didn’t have much experience on ships.”

“I don’t.”  She grins, pouring fresh rum into the now-empty grog pitcher and squeezing in the juice of two lime halves before passing it off to him and wiping her hands on a rag.  “But my mother taught me to climb trees and throw knives and shoot with a bow when I was just a girl.  After years on the run from the Evil Queen, she decided survival skills were kind of essential.”

"Oh." Thomas looks impressed.  “Makes sense, I guess.”  He begins cutting the rum with water.  “And your father taught you to fight with a sword?”

Emma nods, looking nostalgic.  “Well, he and my godfather, Lancelot.  Lance brought me my first toy sword when I was three.  Mother says the head groom was a little horrified when I started chasing imaginary dragons around the gardens with it, but Papa and Lance were so proud.”

Thomas shares her little laugh.  His sets the cask aside and gives the pitcher a good swirl, falling quiet for a moment. “You must miss ‘em.”

Her smile turns a bit sad. “I do, but I’ll see them soon.” She studies him.  “Do you have any family?”

The young man shakes his head.  “Never knew my father, and my mother died a few years back.  My older brother and I survived doing odd jobs at the docks until he was killed in an accident,” he reveals, looking blue.  “Wasn’t long after that that I met the Cap’n and he offered me a position on Jolly.”  He darts a glance around them at the other crewmen.  “This is as close to a family as most of us have now.”

Emma feels a twinge in her chest, and she flashes him a heartfelt smile.  “Well, thank you for letting me be part of your family for a little while,” she says gently.

Thomas blushes and rubs the back of his neck.  “The debt’s still ours to pay, ma’am.”

When dinner is over and the music commences, Smee comes over to where Killian and Emma are seated against the gunwhale, his hat humbly in his hands and a hopeful grin on his face. “Captain?  Permission to ask the Princess for a dance?”

Pure intrigue crosses Killian’s dark features as he peers up at his nervous first mate, but one glance at the sparkle in Emma’s eyes causes him to nod, an amused grin tugging at this mouth.  “Granted.”

Smee makes a slightly clumsy bow and extends his hand, the apples of his cheeks glowing red.  “Your Highness?”

Emma flashes Killian a brilliant smile as she lays her fingers in Smee’s plump palm and climbs to her feet with a chuckle.  “Of course.”

The crew roars at the sight of one of their own escorting the Princess to the center of the deck, and it emboldens a handful more to step forward.  Emma laughs and shrieks with delight as Martin, Thomas, Alec, and a few others each take a turn, whirling her around the boards and then handing her off to the next man.  At last there comes a rowdy cheer, and she finds herself being spun into a familiar pair of waiting arms as Killian, having left his heavy coat aside, finally claims the rest of the dance for himself.  Roberts switches the tune on his shrill little pipe, and the crew begins to clap and chant:

The maiden, oh, the maiden, oh, The sailor loves the maiden, oh! So early in the morning, The sailor loves the maiden, oh! A maid that is young, A maid that is fair, A maid that is kind and pleasant, oh, So early in the morning, The sailor loves the maiden, oh!**

 Killian reaches down and wraps his arm around her hips, his face jubilant in the lantern light as he lifts her off her feet and spins them around.  Emma gasps in surprise, bracing her arm across the back of his shoulders and beaming down into his shining eyes.  Her hero.  Her sailor. Her love.  

He sets her down at the song’s end, and she wraps both arms around his neck to steady herself, her heart thrumming in her chest and her lips parting in awe as she realizes that, for the first time in all their nights on deck, he’s singing too, directing his smooth baritone down to her while he draws close and bumps his forehead affectionately into hers.  

“The sailor loves the maiden, oh!”

 *             *             *

 It’s late in the evening by the time they slip below, the muffled sounds of the crew’s merrymaking still audible above their heads.  Killian sets their lantern on the table as Emma presses the cabin door shut behind them and hangs up his coat.  He comes up behind her and runs his hand down her arm, nuzzling the side of her face and placing a soft kiss on her cheek.  “Tired, love?”  

He smiles at her throaty little chuckle.  “Only a little.”  She spins and lays her hands on his chest, and desire rolls into the pit of his belly when her lips find his.  Her kiss is gentle at first, tender and slow, but she mewls when he emits a quiet growl and tugs her hips flush with his, her hands winding up and over his shoulders and her mouth opening wider to allow his questing tongue better access.  

His trousers grow tighter as the heat between them flares, and he pulls away a moment, panting, the tip of his nose drifting across her cheek.  “Would you like to...”

“Yeah.”

An idiotic grin spreads across his face as she presses forward and kisses him again, and they stagger backward toward his berth in a progressively mad fumble.  Her slender fingers work at the clasps of his waistcoat until she can slide her hands beneath the soft leather and push it free. Killian chuckles into her mouth at the hunger in her kisses and the efficiency of her movements as she strips him, a little groan tearing from his throat when she manages to undo his shirt buttons and her hands alight on his bare chest, her fingers smoothing upward through the soft dark hair atop his skin and skimming laterally along his collarbones until she shoves the fabric up off his shoulders.  He struggles to detach his hook in time so he can finish shedding the shirt without tearing the cotton, opening his eyes long enough to toss the brace and hook haphazardly onto the shelf behind the bed with a clatter. His lips are still upturned and his voice gravelly as his shirt hits the floor and he reaches for her jerkin.  “My turn.”

In a few minutes more, he has Emma naked and on his bed, and she barely has time to pull her hair down before he sheds his boots and trousers and chains and crawls up over her to resume his assault on her mouth while his fingers traverse the miles of creamy skin beneath them, caressing the globes of her breasts and then running south to skim her damp folds.  Her breath catches at the latter, and he smiles and fingers her sex again.  “So perfect.”

Her hands flail between them, tickling down across his stomach, but his involuntary laugh turns into a sharp intake of breath when she finds his swollen member and her fingertips drift down the shaft.  Emma looks up at him with uncertainty.  “Is this…?”

His hair hangs in his eyes as he nods vigorously, groaning again when her hand tentatively closes around him and begins to pump slowly.  “Bloody hell,” he mumbles, closing his eyes and letting himself savor the tantalizing sensation that washes over him in waves.  She begins to twist a little with every stroke, growing bolder and picking up speed, and he falters, rolling to one side and pulling her with him.  They wiggle about on the narrow mattress until he’s under her, and he gazes up at her spellbound as she straddles his thighs and reaches for his erection again. Her continued attention makes Killian throw his head back against the pillow, chest heaving and eyelids heavy. Pleasure surges through his veins, building by the second, and he begins to sense that familiar tingle at the base of his spine.  “Swan…” he grunts, face contorting with need.  “Please…”

He hears her quiet giggle, and her hand slows.  “I thought pirates didn’t beg.”

Her cheek causes a faint smile to ghost across his face while he does his best to retain his self-control. “I stand corrected,” he manages. “There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t be asking for mercy right now.”  He gestures. “Come here.”

She obliges, rising up a little and shifting forward, and he brings his knees up and plants his feet, guiding her hips until she’s lowering herself onto him.  Emma tosses her head and bites her lip, whimpering as he fills her, and she sinks down until she’s fully seated, her backside resting against the slope of his thighs.

The sight of her like this – bare, magnificent, and mounted, with her head thrown back, hair cascading over her shoulder and throat exposed in a graceful line – it’d be enough to make him weep if the sensation of her wet heat around him didn’t reduce Killian’s coherent thoughts to a mere memory.  His hand and stump remain on her waist when she leans forward on his chest and begins rocking, grinding against him and whining as she seeks her climax.  They establish a rhythm, with her pushing and him pulling in tandem, and her breathy little moans only serve to drive him closer and closer to the brink as she rides him with increasing fervor until at last she cries out and buries her face in his neck.  Her entire body shudders, her muscles pulsing tight around him, and he finally lets go, his eyes clamped shut and his jaw slack as ecstasy overtakes him.

Emma rolls her hips against him a few more times before giving into exhaustion and falling still at last.  Her body continues to tremble, and he smoothes her hair back and turns his head to press his lips to her forehead before rolling them back over.  

“Emma,” he murmurs, cupping her cheek in his hand and trailing soft kisses down across her face.  “My Emma.”

She chuckles with breathless satisfaction.

He drifts back to her mouth, pulling at her lips with his.  “For the record,” he says between kisses, “you’re welcome to make me beg like that anytime.”

Emma laughs beneath him. “Noted.”

 *             *             *

 The rest of the week flies by like a wonderful dream, their usual daytime activities now punctuated with shared looks and a habit of easy, casual affection on deck – a hand around her hip, a touch on his arm, the diminishing space between them when they stand together with his hand on her back or her fingers around his hook.

She asks Killian to show her more of the stars, so they take the night watch one evening when the wind dies down and the seas are calm, bundling up together beneath a blanket on the top with the sails above them furled in order to give them a better view of the northern sky.  He points out the constellations one by one, his voice growing melodious in her ear as he waxes poetic about the legends surrounding each cluster of stars until well past midnight. From there they turn to other topics, and under the cover of darkness they share warm, lazy kisses and stories of their past adventures until Emma doses off, snuggled in his arms and reclined against his chest.  

He watches her sleep as he keeps an eye out for anything unexpected ahead, reflecting with a private grin that the soft, even cadence of her breathing may have surpassed a tranquil ocean horizon as the greatest calming force in his life.  A deep sigh escapes him as he listens to the hushed lap of the water and familiar groan of the timbers and the occasional squeak of a rusty hinge on the solitary lamp that hangs off the bow to light their way. It’s perfection, this moment, he thinks. Up here on the mast with Emma in his arms, the stars overhead, and the ship below – it’s as though everything he needs is here in this one place.  Peace. Home.  Love.  He wonders whether he’ll ever be afforded another moment as perfect as this.  He’s long been used to uncertainty about his future, long appreciated the potential for each day to bring something new, but now that he’s found Emma, he finds himself feeling anxious about the unknowns that await them in Misthaven.  How will he keep her safe from the Dark One?  What will her parents think of their precious daughter taking up with a pirate?  Will they try to drive him off, or worse, try to send him and his crew to the gallows? Out here on the ocean, there’s nothing to come between him and Emma, but when they reach land, aye, that’s a different tale.  Killian sighs again and tightens his arm around her shoulders, touching a worried kiss to the top of her head.  One moment at a time, he thinks, focusing on her breathing and trying to silence the fears niggling at his heart. One moment at a time.

The sky lightens over the next few hours, transforming from black to navy as the golden penumbra of the rising sun peeks over the lip of the visible world off to their right.  As the light grows brighter, pinks and oranges bleed into the sky and cause the low clouds that hang just above their heads to glow with the same warm shades.  

Emma stirs, shifting against him groggily and shivering a little as she reaches up to rub her eyes. “What time is it?”

He buries his nose in her hair.  “Just about six, I imagine,” he says with a little smile.  “Cold?”

“I’m okay.”  She tugs the blanket tighter around them.  “Though I wouldn’t mind a warm little nap in your cabin this morning.”

He chuckles and hugs her tighter to him.  “Agreed. Would you like to head down now? I can join you when Alec comes to take over as lookout in a bit,” he offers.  His smile widens when she shakes her head.

“I’ll stay with you.”

Killian leans forward and kisses the cold shell of her ear.  “Good.”

Her lashes flutter as she rolls a bit in his embrace and stares upward, and he admires the gleam of her green eyes in the morning light before following her dreamy gaze to the tip of the fore-mast as it skims the rosy clouds above their heads.

A glint in the distance draws his attention back to the sea, and he blinks, wondering if it’s a trick of the light until he sees the little flash again.  

Emma senses his distraction, and she cranes her neck back toward the horizon.  “What?”

Killian squints, reluctantly releasing her so she can sit up and he can reach for his spyglass. “There’s something out there,” he says with a frown.  “Something small.”

Emma shades her eyes as she peers into the glare of the rising sun.  “Bird?”

He shakes his head, extending the barrel and raising the glass to get a better look.  “No.  It looks like it’s… floating.”  His brow furrows as he considers the options and sees the sunlight reflect brilliantly off the little object again.  “It looks like gold.”  He hands the spyglass to Emma.  “A magical talisman?”

Emma raises the eyepiece, looking perplexed.  She’s silent for a long moment before she suddenly bursts out laughing.

Killian straightens. “What?  What is it, love?”

She hands the spyglass back to him with a sly smile and flips her palm upward.  In the distance, the object disappears in a poof and reappears in her hand, and Killian gapes down at a jeweled hair comb, the gold intricately molded to look like a spray of tiny flowers.  

Emma grins at him, her cheeks pink with amusement.  “It’s the comb Blue enchanted to find me,” she says.  She dries the water droplets that still dot the precious metal with her shirt sleeve.  “It must have been in the ocean this whole time.”

“Huh.”  Killian’s forehead wrinkles.  “At that speed, it would have taken a year to find you in Vicarstown,” he points wryly.

She chuckles and shrugs. “Admittedly, most people don’t disappear to the other side of the world.”  She runs a thumb over the flowers affectionately.  “I’m glad I got it back.  It was a gift from the dwarves. Buttercups are my favorite.”

He nods, suddenly feeling another pang of melancholy at this reminder of her impending return to her other life.  He bows his head and forces a smile.  “It’s lovely, Swan.”

“Mm.”  Emma tucks the comb into her jerkin and snuggles close to him again with a contented sigh, her eyes returning to the multicolored sky and the radiance of the rising sun.  “I could stay here forever,” she hums.

The warmth of a tear presses its way to the corner of his eye, and he turns his head to plant a fierce kiss on her cheek, closing his eyes against the ugly fears begin to claw at his heart once again.

She rubs the angle of his jaw without taking her gaze off the light dancing on the ocean.  “Have you ever done this before?” she asks. “Watched the sunrise up here, I mean.”

He thinks, frowning as the answer occurs to him.  “I haven’t.”

“Ever?” She chuckles incredulously.  “In over a hundred years?”  She fixes him with a curious look.  “Why not?”

“Well,” he shifts, tightening his arm around her torso, “Milah never cared for heights.  And since then, there’s been no one to share the stars with.” A sad little smile twitches at the side of his mouth.  “I might never have done this, had it not been for you.”

Emma lays her hand on his chest and closes the distance between them for a slow, ardent kiss, her cold lips somehow managing to warm something deep within him.  The corners of her eyes crinkle when she pulls back. “Well, I’m glad we did,” she murmurs.

“As am I.”  Killian looks down and reaches for her other hand, lacing his fingers between hers.  “But it’s not watching the sunrise that’s special, you know,” he adds quietly, leaning his forehead against hers.  “It’s having you here with me.”

Moisture gathers on her lashes as she blinks rapidly up at him, his own happiness reflected in her huge eyes, and she seems at a loss to do anything but press forward and draw him into another excruciatingly gentle kiss.  Their lips are unrushed as they move together, every shared breath deliberate and saturated with emotion and promise, and he hears her sniffle just as a solitary tear leaves a cold trail down his cheek.

She’s changed everything for him, he realizes.  It doesn’t matter what awaits them in Misthaven.  He’d abandoned the hope of finding a happy ending long ago, but he understands now that he was wrong.  It’s here.  It’s her.  And now that he’s tasted heaven, he’ll walk through hell if that’s what it takes to keep it.

 *             *             *

 Well, isn’t this interesting?

The Dark One stares with fascination at the image of the pirate kissing the Princess that fills his crystal ball, and his blackened heart swims with a myriad of emotions – ages-old bitterness, hate, disgust, curiosity, and even perverse amusement at the idea that the he’s about to have the opportunity to get Excalibur back and kill the arrogant bastard, Hook, once and for all.

He supposes he couldn’t have planned it any better, really.

With a wave of his hand, the crystal goes blank, and he rises and heads for his spinning wheel. He always does his best plotting while at the wheel, and between planning a welcome home of his own for the Princess, a suitably painful execution for the pirate, and the assassinations of a veritable rainbow of fairies, there’s much to think over.

 *             *             *

 “Land, ho!” Alec’s voice booms triumphantly overhead.

His call brings Emma and Killian’s latest sparring session to a halt, with the pair of them whirling to look fore.  Killian stows his cutlass and reaches for his spyglass, waiting until Emma’s hands are free to hand it over with an encouraging smile.  “Go on, Swan.  Set your sights upon home.”

She grins weakly and makes haste for the nearest shroud, shimmying up onto the rigging in a flash.

Killian comes to stand below, fixing his eyes on the dark green shoreline in the distance.  “How far is it to the castle?” he asks as she drops back down to the deck.

Emma clears her throat and hands back his glass.  “Not far. Less than a day’s ride.”

He frowns at her pensive expression.  “What’s wrong?”

“I just…”  She gnaws on her lip, her eyes faraway.  “Maybe you should stay here with the ship.”

“What?”  He frowns sharply.  “Why?”

Poorly-suppressed emotions cross her face, her eyelashes fluttering with uncertainty.  “Just until we deal with the Dark One,” she explains, trying to sound firm.  “I’ll send word when it’s done.”

Killian straightens, cocking his head back with indignation.  “All due respect, darling, but that’s a load of bloody nonsense,” he grinds out.  “I go where you go, and I’m sure as hell not letting you face the Demon alone.”

Her green eyes shimmer, and she shakes her head with increasing frustration.  “It’s too dangerous.  Even if he didn’t already hate you, it’d be dangerous.”

“Aye, he hates me,” Killian nods, “but you’re the one he’s coming after.  And it is dangerous.  That’s why our best choice is to face it together.”

“I…”  She turns away, her voice cracking.

He rolls his eyes and reaches out to rotate her back toward him.  “Swan—”

“I can’t lose you!” she explodes.  She glances around self-consciously at the surprised looks from a few nearby crewmen, her cheeks growing hot.  Her gaze falls to the toes of her boots, and she sniffs.  “I just… I can’t.”

Killian stares, his features softening as he reads the resolve in her face and wonders yet again what he’s done to deserve a woman like this.  He shoots his men a look that sends them scuttling off before turning back to her and wrapping his hand reassuring around her arm.  “Love, you don’t have to worry about me,” he replies gently.  

Emma blinks up at his soft grin, her wide eyes searching his face expectantly.

“One thing I’m good at,” he reminds her, stepping closer and tipping his head forward, “is surviving.” He grins as some of the anxiety fades from her expression and she manages a weak smile, and he closes the remaining inches between them and captures her lips with his.

She melts in his arms, her whine soft as he draws her up against his chest and continues to kiss her soundly, and when they finally pause for air, she blushes an even deeper shade of pink. “The men are watching.”

“Let them,” he rumbles, pressing forward to kiss her again.

The Jolly makes port at the seaside town of Jennings Harbor by midday, and though it takes the harbor master a few long minutes to recognize Emma standing at the gunwhale, excited calls suddenly erupt along the wharf.

“It’s the Princess!”

“The Princess has returned!”

The ship is moored and the boarding plank lowered, and Killian is the first off, stepping out on to the plank and turning to offer Emma his hand and a sober grin.  “Welcome home, Swan.”

She squeezes his fingers gratefully as they descend, her face a mixture of relief and apprehension.

Having bustled out on to the dock, the harbor master doffs his hat and greets them with a low bow that belies the man’s portly frame.  “Welcome home, Your Highness.  Are you alright?”  He eyes Killian and the crew beyond with a nervous smile.

Emma gives him a gracious nod.  “I’m fine, Mr…?”

“Rosen, ma’am,” he supplies, setting his hat back atop his head.

“Mr. Rosen.”  She smiles.  “May I present Captain Killian Jones of the Jolly Roger?”

Rosen’s jowls pale a bit at confirmation of the ship’s identity.  He bows his head hastily in Killian’s direction, his brown eyes widening at the sight of Killian’s hook.  “S-sir.”  He darts Emma a questioning glance.  “Your Highness?”

“These men are my friends, and I owe them a debt,” she tells him firmly.  “They’ve sailed halfway across the world to bring me home, and they’re to remain in port for the time being.  Please look after them for me?”

He gulps at her request. “Y-yes, Princess.”

“We need a horse,” Killian tells him.  “We ride for the castle immediately.”

Rosen gives a hasty bob of his head.  “Of-of course.  We’ll send word to the Royal Guard in town,” he says, looking to Emma for approval.  

News of the Princess’ return seems to spread across the town in mere minutes, and the guardsmen are quick to arrive even without a summons.  They ride up in a party of four bearing silver armor and shields emblazoned with what Killian supposes is her parents’ crest.

“May we escort you, Your Highness?” the middle-aged captain asks, aiming a wary look at Killian as Emma selects one of their mares and swings expertly up into the saddle.  

She beckons Killian to climb up, and he happily follows, hoisting himself into place behind her, her back warm against his chest.  It’s not lost on the Guard when she twists a little and gestures for him to take the reins for a moment, but if she notices the disapproving stares that come when he softly slips his arm around her waist to grab them, she pays them no mind. “That’s not necessary, Captain,” Emma replies with a little smile, tilting her head sideways and tugging her hair down to hurriedly plait it over one shoulder, “but you’re welcome if you can keep up.”

Killian smirks.

The guards swap bewildered looks before the captain signals gruffly for two of his three men to accompany them.

“My thanks for your help, Sirs.”  Emma’s hand drifts over Killian’s as she reassumes the reins and catches his eye over her shoulder.  “Ready?”

He flashes her a grin and nods.  “Aye, love. Let’s go.”

 *             *             *

 It feels a bit surreal to be home and flying along familiar forest roads with Killian at her back and her world so changed since she was last here, Emma thinks as she drives the horse west at an aggressive pace, hooves going thubuddy, thubuddy against the packed dirt.  Killian’s hand is solid against her belly, and the way they rise and fall together with each extension of the mare’s legs makes her mind drift to more pleasurable activities – thoughts that make her skin tingle even as her stomach clenches with anxiety at her parent’s reaction to her choice to be with him.  The guards’ reaction to seeing her physical ease with Killian was not subtle, and she bristles inwardly at the thought of having to endure the same looks from virtually everyone they encounter.  As it does around the world, Killian’s reputation precedes him here.  She remembers the stories she heard growing up in Court of a dashing and treacherous pirate with a hook for a hand, and though she now knows those tales mix truth and exaggeration and do not accurately portray the complicated man she loves, the problem of how to get her parents and the rest of the kingdom to see what she sees gnaws achingly at her.

They ride hard for several hours with the guardsmen in tow before electing to stop at a noisy brook to stretch and rest the horses for a short while.

Emma kneels by the water to scoop a few handfuls up to her mouth and then splatter some on her face, the ice cold splash the perfect relief for her sun-warmed skin.  She catches Killian grinning at her as she dabs at her jaw with her forearm.  “What?”

He shrugs.  “Nothing, love.  You just seem at home here.”

She gives a dry chuckle. “I had an early education when it comes to the forest.  My mother knows this land better than even our most experienced huntsmen.”  She spies a berry bush a dozen steps upstream and wanders over to pick a few of the small, dark fruits that hang heavy among the prickly leaves.  The sweet and slightly tart taste is as well-known to her as her favorite songs and her most cherished childhood memories, and her fingers work absently, her restless thoughts continuing to simmer.

Killian’s footsteps approach from behind.  “What’s wrong?”

She turns her head a bit as he draws near, a half-hearted dimple appearing at how unnecessarily close he pulls up next to her.  “Hmm? Oh.  Nothing.”  Her voice is soft.

Killian’s hand brushes soothingly across the small of her back.  “I’ve heard that one before.”

Emma glances at him, both annoyed and touched that he knows her so well.  "How do you know?"

“Well, I hate to break it to you,” he informs her cheerfully, "but you’re something of an open book, Swan.”

His continued use of her nickname makes her smile, wistful as she is now for that time when she was a simple barmaid with no worries about royal obligations, political affairs, or some impending battle with the Dark One.  She arcs an eyebrow at him and holds out a handful of berries.  “Am I?”

“Mm-hmm.”  His hum generates a pleasant shiver between her shoulder blades, and she watches him slip the fruit into his mouth and consider the taste. “Worried about introducing me to your parents?”

“I…”  She rolls her eyes at how spot-on he is.  “Maybe a little.”

He falls silent for a moment, though she can virtually hear the wheels in his head turning as he catches his hook on the bramble to hold a branch steady while his fingers pluck off a few more berries.  “I can’t ask anyone to turn a blind eye to what I’ve done in the past, love,” he says soberly, “but I’ll do what it takes to be with you.”

“And what if my father just wants to have you thrown you in the lake?” she asks, her face glum.

Killian smiles.  “Then I should be happy to oblige him.  I’m an excellent swimmer, you know,” he quips, popping a few more berries into his mouth and brushing his hand on his shirt.

Emma chuckles in spite of herself.  “Pirate.”

“Naturally.”  He reaches up to finger a stray lock of hair over her ear, his expression turning solemn.  “I’ll figure something out.”  He thumbs at a bit of juice at the corner of her lips.  “I always do.”

The sun is beginning to set as their destination finally rises into view, the golden rays shining from behind the looming stone towers and buttresses in a brilliant halo and shimmering across the waters of the surrounding lake.  The royal palace looks at it always has, with a dozen spires of various heights reaching for the sky and flags waving proudly in the spring breeze, and despite all her uncertainties, the sight of it fills Emma with an enormous measure of relief.  

“That’s it!” she calls excitedly.  “Home!” A elated laugh breaks from her chest, and she sniffles.

Killian’s arm hugs her closer, and he presses his face close to her ear.  “Is that it?  I was expecting something… grander.”

She giggles and elbows him lightly in the ribs.

A heavy gate flanked by stone guardhouses stands at the beginning of the great bridge that spans the divide between the mainland and the rocky island on which the castle is built. Emma’s homecoming causes more shouts to ring out as she’s immediately recognized by the soldiers standing watch, and there’s a great scramble to swing the wrought iron out of the way in time.

They thunder by, the loud clip of the horses’ hooves across the bridge’s gray pavers announcing their arrival, and mere moments later they pass through the even larger, more imposing gate leading to the castle grounds.

Emma draws them to a halt in the main courtyard, the mare blowing and knackering while Killian leaps off and takes the horse’s head to steady her.

“Princess!”

A familiar voice cuts through the air, and Emma’s face lights up.  She jumps down and greets the white-haired head groom with a hug.  “Marcus!”

“Thank goodness you’ve returned!  We’ve been so worried.”  The uniformed gentleman holds her out at arm’s length, his brow wrinkling in confusion as he studies her rumpled clothes and appearance.  “What on earth are you wearing?”

Emma rolls her eyes at the fastidious old man.  “The appropriate clothes for a long voyage at sea,” she explains patiently.  “It’s been quite a journey.”

He seems unconvinced. “Ah.”  He glances fleetingly at her attire again, a distressed grimace hinting at the corner of his mouth.  “Well, I shall have a bath set up in your chambers straight away.”

“Later,” she says with a shake of her head.  “Where are my parents?”

“The King and Queen are in the Council Room, last I knew.”

“Good.”  Emma turns and gives the weary guardsmen a quick smile. “Thank you for the escort,” she says, grabbing Killian’s hand and summoning her magic.  “Excuse us.”  

Smoke surrounds them, and when it dissipates, they’re standing in the wide hallway just outside the heavy wooden doors to the chamber in question.  Her heart races with anticipation and nervousness, and she pauses to take a deep breath, turning to Killian and squeezing his fingers.  “Ready?”  

There’s matching anxiety in the brief way he licks his lips, but he puts on a smile.  “After you, Swan.”

Emma studies his brave face and pulls him into an impulsive hug, cradling his jaw and kissing him deeply, unsure when she'll have the chance again.  She looks back up at him, her thumb brushing across his scruff as she tries to memorize the weight of his arms around her.  “I love you.”

The heart-wrenching devotion in his blue eyes is something else to savor.  “And I you,” he murmurs.  He gives her another peck.  “Go on.”

She gives him one more shaky smile and lets him go, taking a massive door handle in each hand. “Mother?  Papa?” she calls, “Are you here?”  With a shove, the doors swing open.

 *             *             *

 Emma’s parents are indeed in the Council Room, and a bit of excited chaos ensues when she pushes her way in.

The King and Queen are standing on the far side of the room next to a great crackling fireplace that sits beyond an enormous rounded table.  Their heads are bowed together as they confer about something, but Emma’s voice causes them to both look up in astonishment.

“Emma?”

“Emma!”

Their voices echo in the cavernous room, and Emma scurries across the polished stone floor, threading a neat path around the table and the wide red-and-gold trimmed stone pillars that bear up the ceiling.  She grunts happily as her father catches her in his arms, and the trio locks into a tight embrace.  Light from the hearth dances over the emotion that wells up on the King's face.  He cups the back of Emma’s head while her mother bursts into relieved sobs, and the sight of the triumphant reunion causes Killian’s chest to swell as he wanders in and positions himself unobtrusively next to a nearby pillar.

“Thank the gods you’re alright!” Emma’s father mutters.  “Are you alright?”

Emma nods against his chest and shudders, her voice muffled in his tunic.  “I’m fine.  I missed you.”

“We missed you too. We were so worried, honey,” the Queen sighs.  “We were so happy when Blue told us she’d seen you.”  She opens her eyes and spies Killian, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh!  You brought a guest.”  She pulls away from her husband and daughter and hurriedly dabs at her tears with the end of her sleeve.

The King looks up as well, creases forming on his forehead and his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he takes in Killian’s appearance.  He straightens and squares his shoulders.  “Hello.”

Emma steps away from her parents and motions toward him.  “This, um, this is the man who brought me home,” she explains, sounding nervous.  “Captain Killian Jones.”  

Killian gives her a soft smile as he takes her hand and lets her draw him forward.  “Your Majesties,” he says, dipping into his best formal bow. “A pleasure.”

The King glances with a frown at the way their hands linger together for a second too long. “Captain.”  He bobs his head stiffly, meeting Killian’s eye before allowing his stare to fall to the hook.  “The Blue Fairy told us you were involved.  Thank you for returning our daughter to us.”

“Yes, thank you,” Emma’s mother echoes more effusively.  “We owe you a great debt.”  She finishes composing herself with one last sniffle.  “We will gladly compensate you for your efforts.”

Killian gives her a warm smile and bows again.  “I’m sure my crew will appreciate it.”

There’s an awkward beat of silence.

“Um, where are they now?” the Queen asks politely.

“My ship is at Jennings Harbor.  The men stay with her pending further orders.”

“Right.”  The King clears his throat.  “Well, we won’t keep you from them long.  We can outfit you with your reward and have you on your way tomorrow morning.”

Killian and Emma share an uneasy look.  “Actually, I was planning to stay close by,” he says carefully.  “Emma may be home, but she’s still in danger of attack by the Dark One, as I’m sure the Fairy also told you.”  His eyes flit back to Emma, and the corner of his lips tugs upward solemnly.  “I don’t intend to leave her in a time of need.”  Or ever, he thinks.

The Queen looks genuinely moved, but her husband shakes his head with a chuckle.  “Well, that’s very noble of you,” he says with a smile that comes just short of genuine, “but we don’t need you to stay.”

Killian tips his head back, surveying Emma’s father coolly.  “It’s not open for debate, I’m afraid.”

The King blinks, his incredulous grin widening.  “No. It’s not.  We don’t need help from a pirate.  We’ve already got a plan.”

“And what’s that?”  

“That’s none of your concern,” the King shoots back, his voice now bordering on testy.

Killian snorts.  “The bloody hell it isn’t.”  He feels Emma's fingers intertwine with his, and his thumb sweeps across her knuckles restlessly in reply.

The King looks affronted and the Queen curves a brow as they note this action with a mix of interest and alarm.

Emma layers her other hand over the back of his, and Killian glances up to see a silent plea for patience in her large eyes.  He folds his lips, trying to suppress his look of irritation, and she turns to her parents.  

“What’s the plan?” she asks.

“Emma, are you two—”

“What’s the plan, Mother?”

“Squid ink.”  All attention turns to the King, who impatiently pulls a small vial out of the chest pocket of his dark red velvet tunic. “It stops any magical creature in its tracks.  We’ll use it to disable the Dark One and capture him.”

“It was Blue’s idea,” the Queen explains.  “Our friend Ariel helped procure it.”

“See?” the King says pointedly, glowering at Killian, “We’re perfectly capable of protecting our daughter.”

“Oh, are you now?”

They whirl in the direction of the open door, and Killian’s sword is out of its sheath at the first sound of that sinister, sing-song voice he knows all too well from his nightmares. Bloody fucking hell.  The Queen gasps as a spritely man with a gold sheen to his leathery skin and a coat made of crocodile hide steps into view, and even though he’s across the room, they all back instinctively toward the fireplace.

“Shame that you’re the ones that need protecting,” he cackles, the light from the overhead chandelier glimmering off his unnatural complexion.  He passes over the threshold, waving one hand in that peculiar, dramatic way of his, and the squid ink flies out of the King’s grasp and plummets to the hearth with the sound of smashing glass.

** So Early in the Morning (a.k.a. The Sailor's Loves) is an real traditional sea shanty. You can read more about it and listen to the tune here, though I imagine Roberts' version to be much more upbeat. :)

Thanks for reading!  Ready for the next chapter?  Click here!

[lovinitkpop]

Brown Sugar and Honey

This one is about a new girl group at SM. You could say EXO sister group there may be a love line put in it who really knows. I mean I know but then again I might not know. Heads up I’m sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes after rereading it over and over I can’t deal with it.

Oh the reason I came up with this title is because the main OC is black and DO KyungSoo looks damn sexy and handsome when his skin is dark and tan and NOT WHITE WASHED!!!!! STOP THE WHITE WASHING!!!!!!!!

If there is a love line then it will be my first Kyungsoo series. Hope you like it but if you don’t guess what I don’t give two shits leave my blog then. Anyways enjoy bye.

Warnings: Fluffy, Angst, Language, Bullying, Stupid, May not make senses, Brain frat, May not have smut, Trigger, Suicide talk, Racism, Blood, etc.

Pairing: OC x DO Kyungsoo

Chapter 33

July 26, 2019

Jisoo runs down the hall running away from her manager. As she makes it to Renesmee room Rosalie walks out looking at her phone. “Stop running now.” She says turning her head causing Jisoo to slide to a stop.

“She is still okay nothing changed from the last time you were here.” Rosalie adds putting here phone in her pocket.

“I don’t know that someone didn’t let me stay the night.” Jisoo says before walking into the room. “Sis!”

“Jiji you should be at practice.” Renesmee says looking up from her phone. Jisoo walks over sitting next to Renesmee. “You could have asked me to move over.”

Renesmee says moving to the side letting her sit. Jisoo puts her arm around Renesmee laying her head on her shoulder. “Ugh I missed you so much.”

“Unnie we were just here yesterday.” Roxay says walking in with the others. “Unnie!” She says hopping over to Renesmee hugging her.

“Girls you should be at practice.” Renesmee says looking at them and they just pout. Their manager walks in sighing. “What are they doing here?”

“They won’t step into the practice room until you get out; they keep running away.” He says folding his arms looking at them.

“Girls really; the doctor said I’m fine in fact I might be getting out tomorrow.” Renesmee says looking at them.

“We don’t want to go on without you.” Eunjin says looking from the floor.

“Well you won’t I’m a 100% okay all they’ve been doing is running test and making sure my oxygen is good.” Renesmee says smiling pushing her hair back.

“Which from the result that just came back everything looks good.” The doctor says walking into the room looking at his clipboard. “If it stays that way tonight you are free to go in the morning.”

“Yay!” The girls yell running over hugging Renesmee. She laughs looking at them before looking back at the doctor.

“Thank you.” She says bowing her head. He nods watching them as he looks back at his clipboard. The girls smile looking at Renesmee. “Told you girls.”

“You know you’re a tough cookie.” He says walking to the door. Renesmee smiles giggling covering her mouth. “I mean one tough cookie.”

“Yes I am.” She agreed with him watching him leave. The girls smile looking at Renesmee. “You girls better be in practice tomorrow before I get there.”

“Yes ma’am.” They all say jumping up and down. Rosalie walks back in with Déshì. He bows to everyone saying hello.

“Okay girls it’s late we need to go.” Their manager says looking at them and they all whine looking at him. “Not now I promise I’ll come pick her up tomorrow and bring her to practice.”

“You promise?” Xiaoling asks looking at him.

“Yes now lets go.” He says pointing to the door. They all hug Renesmee before leaving. “Bye I’ll be here tomorrow to get you.”

“Okay bye.” Renesmee says waving bye. Déshì smiles walking over handing her the bag. “Oh good you found it.” She says smiling and he nods sitting down next to her.

“Anymore nightmares?” He asks pushing her hair back.

“Yeah but my mom has been here to help me.” She says looking at Rosalie. “I mean I don’t get that much sleep but I’m getting something.”

“Well Déshì is staying tonight I have a meeting in the morning.” Rosalie says walking grabbing her bags. Renesmee shakes her head looking at them.

“What?”

“He doesn’t have to stay, I can’t keep him from his family.” Renesmee says looking at them smiling. “So I asked him to grab this bag it has a few thing to help me.”

“I don’t mind staying Nessie.” Déshì says but Renesmee just shakes her head again grabbing his hand. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah but you can stay till I fall asleep.” She replies tilting her head. Déshì nods before looking back at Rosalie.

“Okay then good night.” Rosalie says kissing Renesmee forehead. She then walks out as her phone starts ringing.

“I need you to do me a favor.” Renesmee asks tilting her head. He nods listening to her and she smiles. “I need you to mail this off for me.”

“Sure what is it?” He asks taking the package. She shakes her head looking at him and he sighs. “Okay fine be that way, do you want anything while I’m out?”

“No I’m fine but thank you.” Renesmee says looking in her bag. “Again thank you for bringing the bag.” She says smiling and he leans forward kissing her forehead.

“Bye only sweet dreams and no staying up late.” Déshì says smiling before leaving. Renesmee smiles nodding pulling her plushie out hugging it. “Ahh now I see why you wanted the bag; I guess you will have good dreams.”

Renesmee nods pulling the hoodie out the bag. “Night Déshì.” Renesmee says going to the bathroom. He nods before leaving closing the door.

July 31, 2019

‘Breaking News!

Hello everyone we are back again with an update to Renesmee noona aka Nessie from Royal 1004.

Yes this is right as you know we are both huge fans of Nessie unnie and the group. But we had some major concerns ever since the end of last year.

Yes Nessie noona has been through a lot and this video we are doing will confirm it. As you all know there was talk about SM kicking Nessie from the group.

Now we got a package a few days ago with a note. We would have filmed earlier but I was out of town. So my brother had to wait on me.

Now that she’s here we opened it the other night and this person sent us a video. Now this video is very disturbing, disappointing, and disgusting, etc.

Like this video made me angry and sad to see it. And we don’t know how this video was taken without anyone knowing. We don’t know where it can from the sender left no name or return address nothing.

Now our last big story about Nessie noona was on her birthday when she didn’t attend her birthday fan meet. When fans told us that she told her mother she had broken ribs and a twisted ankle.

Which was why she sat out for one album. Now this time it’s about what happened on the first day of their tour. Where she collapsed during the show. Their were fan videos capturing the whole thing.

You could hear the staff clearly say her heartbeat stops not once but twice. That’s before she was rushed to the hospital. Going back just a few hours before the concert Renesmee unnie went live on vlive.

Where she said that she had just gotten more medicine. The following day her manager released a statement on his personal Instagram; saying her fever had spiked which caused her to collapse. Now this manager is the only manager we have seen out of the girls 3 managers.

Yes he is always going beyond his job when taking care the girls. He seem to have a soft spot for Roxay, Jisoo unnie and Nessie unnie.

But with all that being said we are going to show you the footage we received. Again this video maybe to much for you. We did add subtitles just in case you can’t hear the audio that well.’

Renesmee sits in the practice room looking at her phone tilting her head. “Interesting how did I know you would be here?” Taeyong says walking into the room.

“Well you know me never stop working.” Renesmee says looking at her laptop now. “I have to get these counts just right.”

“How did you find time to be here aren’t you on tour?”

“Yes we leave in two days.” He says sitting next to her. Renesmee turns looking at him frowning. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Taeyong your hurt I can see it in your eyes.” She says as she pushes her hair back. He sighs looking away. “You need rest.”

“Looks who’s talking, you never take care of yourself.” Taeyong speaks wrapping his arms around his knees. “You always push yourself too far.”

“Yeah people actually like you; no one gives a shit about me.” Renesmee says looking back at her screen.

“I’m sorry was that a British accent?” He asks tilting his head.

“Yeah I’m sorry I don’t know where it comes from.” She says looking down at her lap. “Trust it happen a lot I just don’t know how it comes out when I’m speaking Korean.”

“So you can speak with a British accent?” He asks looking at her and she nods. “So what are you working on?”

“Well three new songs for when we go to America because they need to be filmed over there.” Renesmee says looking at her phone. “Oh I have the songs I need you to look over.”

“For?” He asks looking confused.

Renesmee smiles covering her mouth seeing his face. He tilts his head watching her and she just looks away. “For the next part in the pandora series.”

“Oh okay send it to me.” He says and she nods sending him the files. “What are we going for this time?”

“The good side of the box.” Renesmee says pushing her hair back. “As much as I love dark evil concepts got at least cover the good side.”

“We don’t have to, we can just be evil for good you know.” Taeyong says smiling and she turns her head looking at his face.

“Don’t tempt me.” She whines pouting and he just laughs seeing her face. “Ugh we have SM Town coming up.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” He asks grabbing her arm. “You just got out the hospital.” He adds looking her in the eye.

“You are so cute I’m glad were friends Tae.” Renesmee says smiling and he sits up hearing her. “The doctor said I’m fine.”

“Just friends?” He asks watching her and she nods.

“I knew for a while Tae.” She says and he looks at her in shock.

“You did?”

“Yes, I like you too but we wouldn’t work out, plus your fans would go nuts.” Renesmee says smiling poking his cheek. “I like our friendship the way it is and so do you; it’s fun being cute and flirty with you some fans like it.”

“But you know deep down it wouldn’t end well; the thing that pulls us together also pulls us apart.”

“So you really like me the way I like you?” He asks watching her smiling and she nods. “I guess you’re right in the long run something would have happened.” He adds putting his arm around her.

“Plus I don’t think my manager would be happy.” She says smiling up at him. “But you are still my vampire.”

“And you’re still mine.” Taeyong says pulling his phone out hearing it ring. “Well my queen I have to go, I’ll start working on these songs later.”

“Bye.”

August 9, 2019

Renesmee sits there looking at everyone. “Am I in trouble?” She asks as she sits there. “Wait it has to do with those YouTubers video.”

“Yes.”

“Well I had nothing to do with that.” Renesmee speaks sitting up in her chair.

“We know but why didn’t you come to anyone?” One man asks looking at her.

“Like they told me it’s their word against mine.” Renesmee says looking away. “And who would believe an ugly fat black bitch monkey like me.”

“One of many names I was called.” She says with a scoff. “I’ve said it many times before no one cares about me, so why am I here.”

“You’re here because I brought you here.” Sooman says watching her tilting his head. “I would have believed you, I’ve told you to come to me if something was wrong.”

Renesmee sighs looking away again hearing him. “Yeah but I didn’t want to cause trouble.” She says folding her arms looking at her lap.

“Everyone out please I’m sure you have paperwork to take care of.” He says looking at everyone else. They all nod bowing before leaving.

Sooman sighs taking his glasses off rubbing his face. “You don’t want to cause trouble?” He repeats what she says and she nods.

“So you rather die!” He says standing up hitting the table watching her. Renesmee jumps hearing him scream and she bites her lip.

“It’s not like it’s the first time trust me.” Renesmee says folding her arms across her chest. “And I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“I treat you like my own daughter Nessie all I ask is you come to me if you need help.” He says putting his glasses back on. “I did everything I could to make you feel at home.”

Renesmee bites her lip again hearing him. “I’m sorry I’m not used to dealing with people helping me.” She says looking at him and he sighs.

“Nessie no one will hurt you.” He says and she scoffs rolling her eyes. “No one will hurt you anymore, what happened to you in the past won’t happen again.”

“Plus those who were mentioned in the video were fired.”

“Wait what?” She says looking at him and he tilts his head.

“They’re fired.”

“Great I’m more of a target than before.” Renesmee says getting up walking off. Sooman grabs her arm stopping her.

“What are you talking about?” He says looking at her. Renesmee pulls free pushing her hair back.

“They’ll blame me for getting fired, since they don’t work here it’s free game to hurt me!” Renesmee screams kicking the chair over.

“But you had nothing to do with that video.” He says watching her. Renesmee grips her hair thinking and she smirks shaking her head. “Unless you…”

“Yes it was me I knew they were right I needed proof.” Renesmee says looking at the floor. “I knew those two followed my every move so I sent them the video.”

Sooman sighs shaking his head watching her. “I promise nothing will happen to you.” He says grabbing her arm again. “Are you hiding anything else from me?”

“Well yes but I can’t tell you yet.” She says biting her lip. He hums tilting his head to the side. “It’s nothing bad and I promise I’m safe okay.”

“So when are you going to tell me?” Sooman asks folding his arms. Renesmee smiles biting her finger. “Nessie.”

“I don’t know when it’s safe and I won’t get in trouble.” Renesmee says standing there thinking. “But I can tell you I really haven’t been staying at the dorm.”

“Where have you been staying?”

“Well you know that house my mom had she gave it to me.” She replies looking at him and he nods.

“That’s fine since no one knows about it, I guess you’ve been driving yourself here.” He says standing up picking up the chair.

“Yes, I couldn’t just let those cars go to waste.” Renesmee says smiling swaying side to side. Sooman shakes his head laughing watching her.

“I swear you cause more worry than trouble.” He says walking towards the door opening it. Renesmee follows behind walking out the office.

She walks down the hall heading to the others. “Uh Nessie.” He calls out to her and she stops. Renesmee turns just as a few staff walks pass. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Renesmee smiles running to him hugging him. He laughs hugging her back patting her head. Some of the workers look over at them in shock.

“I promise you’re safe from now on.” He says looking at her. “Now go I’m sure you have a tour to finish.”

Renesmee nods running off and she smiles seeing Jongin. She jumps on his back laughing hearing him scream. “Kai oppa!”

“Nessie I swear you are going to give me a heart attack.” He says tilting his head looking at her. “What are you doing?”

“I want to spend time with my favorite devil bear.” She says smiling at him and he keeps walking.

“Yeah right what do you want?” He asks walking into a practice room.

“Why do you think I want something?” She says pouting resting her head on his shoulder. Jongin looks at her and she sighs. “I’m writing a song and want you to do it with me.”

“Fine.” He says walking over putting his bag down. “Now I have to practice for the new group, so you have to go oh and have fun with the rest of the tour.”

Renesmee let’s go of him dropping to the floor nodding. “Okay have fun debuting again, I swear if I don’t get a solo soon me and the rest of EXOLs we riot.”

Jongin smirks watching her and she looks at him. “I’m not kidding just wait and see.” She says walking to the door.

“When I do release an album you better be ready.” He replies and she looks back at him.

“Why?”

“I want you to be on it.” He says smiling biting his lip. “Duh.”

“The devil dancer wants me on his album.” Renesmee says putting her hands on her hips. “The man that oozes sex on stage wants me on his album.”

“Plus the mv and dance.” Jongin smirks his cheeks turning red. “I at least want to do three mvs.”

“D.O oppa won’t be happy about that.” She says smiling evilly. Jongin shrugs starting the music as he gets ready. “Text me your evil plan to kill everyone later.”

“Will do my little devil.” He says as he dances and she nods leaving.

Renesmee heads to her car carrying her bag. She gets in getting ready to drive off. “Man this tour has to do good.” She says heading to the dorm.

“Where have you been?” Eunjin asks as the girls run around getting there stuff together. Renesmee smiles as Roxay runs over hugging her.

“Uh I had a meeting about the video they wanted to know if I had something to do with it.” Renesmee says before going up to her room to grab a few bags.

“Are you in trouble?” Jisoo asks walking downstairs with her bags.

“No.” Renesmee says walking up behind her.

“Are you girls ready?” Their manager asks and the girls nod standing by their bags. “Then let’s go.”

[lovinitkpop]

Brown Sugar and Honey

This one is about a new girl group at SM. You could say EXO sister group there may be a love line put in it who really knows. I mean I know but then again I might not know. Heads up I’m sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes after rereading it over and over I can’t deal with it.

Oh the reason I came up with this title is because the main OC is black and DO KyungSoo looks damn sexy and handsome when his skin is dark and tan and NOT WHITE WASHED!!!!! STOP THE WHITE WASHING!!!!!!!!

If there is a love line then it will be my first Kyungsoo series. Hope you like it but if you don’t guess what I don’t give two shits leave my blog then. Anyways enjoy bye.

Warnings: Fluffy, Angst, Language, Bullying, Stupid, May not make senses, Brain frat, May not have smut, Trigger, Suicide talk, Racism, Blood, etc.

Pairing: OC x DO Kyungsoo

Chapter 32

July 13, 2019

Renesmee sits in the back of the van next to her manager. “Take a picture with me manager oppa.” She says looking at him and he looks at her.

“I said I was sorry, you’re still mad?”

“You didn’t tell me about you being sick until two days ago.” He says looking at her still and she just pouts.

“And I’m not that sick.” She says coughing turning her head. He rolls his eyes shaking his head. “Please just take a picture with me; I have to post before the concert.”

“Fine.” He gives in to her and she smiles holding up her phone. He leans over looking at the phone and they take a couple pictures together. “Here you can do a vlive until we get there.”

He says watching her post the pictures to her Instagram. “Yay I haven’t done a vlive in forever.” She says taking his phone after he logins.

Renesmee looks at the screen fixing her hair before waving. “Hello everyone and yes I’m doing a vlive by myself; well my manager is here.”

“Say hi to everyone.”

He looks at her then the phone with a smirk. He bows his head smiling as he waves. “Hi.”

Renesmee smiles trying not to laugh. “Well we are on our way to rehearsal because today is the first day of our tour.”

She speaks looking at the comments tilting her head. “Uh yes I am a little sick that’s why we left to get my medicine.” She answers holding up the bag.

“But trust me I’m fine.”

“Are you really though?” Her manager asks looking back at her. Renesmee hums looking over at him.

“Yes I’m fine better even; I’m really excited about this tour.” She replies coughing covering her mouth. “But no tonight is going to be great.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have given you that lollipop.” He says shaking his head and she just smiles. “No more sugar.”

“What no that’s not fair.” Renesmee pouts looking at him and he just shakes his head. “Come on what’s so bad about sugar?”

“It makes you too hyper.” He says looking over some notes. Renesmee whines looking at him and he shakes his head.

“Fine I’ll get my sugar from elsewhere; anyways tonight is going to be great.” She says bouncing in her seat.

“You don’t need sugar it messes up your teeth plus too much could kill you.” He adds watching her. Renesmee just rolls her eyes looking back at the phone.

“Well with my life I always live like it’s my last.” She says smiling nodding her head. “But like I said tonight is going to be great.”

“I believe that we will get to see what lightstick design was chosen.” Renesmee wiggles in her seat. She spends a few more minutes talking about random stuff.

“Oh look we are here, the others are already here practicing; I left to get my medicine now I ready to rock and roll.” Renesmee says as the van pulls to the venue.

She jumps out the van coughing as she makes her way inside. “Okay I’ll see you all tonight bye.”

Once the girls were ready they sit there getting some final touch ups on hair and makeup. Rosalie knocks on the door before walking in. “Huh mom?”

“Mommy!” Jisoo says running over hugging Rosalie.

“Again not your mom.” She says hugging her back. Jisoo pouts looking at her before walking off.

“What are you doing here?” Renesmee asks getting up walking over to her.

“Uh right yeah this was delivered to my house it said to give it to you.” Rosalie says handing her the box. Renesmee hums taking the box from her.

“Well are you going to open it?” Eunjin asks looking at Renesmee. The others look at her and she shrugs sitting back down.

“Well I’m leaving now have to make sure your cousins doesn’t cause trouble.” Rosalie says walking back towards the door. “Good luck girls.”

They bow smiling waving as she leaves. Renesmee just sits there looking at the box before opening it. “Okay girls get out there.”

Renesmee looks inside seeing the note pulling it out. The girls make their way towards the stage. Renesmee smiles reading the note pulling the necklace out.

‘I know I promised I would be there but I can’t be there now. I’ll make it up to you I swear. But I want you to have fun no matter what and here’s you present I promised. Fighting!’

“Hey come on Nessie!” Her manager says and she nods putting the necklace up in her bag keeping it safe.

Renesmee runs out getting into place with the others. The girls smile as they put on a show for the fans. The first half of the show goes off without a problem.

As Roxay and Yiyang do their solo stage Renesmee sits to the side taking her medicine again. Her manager walks over looking at her checking on her as she coughs.

“You okay?” He asks and she nods giving him a thumbs up. “Be careful okay.”

The girls run back out preforming a few more songs. Renesmee runs around as they sing Jelly. She nods to the beat walking over to the edge holding her mic out to the staff telling them it’s not working.

They nod grabbing her other microphone. She crouches down getting a bottle of water taking a sip. As they walk back over handing her the new mic she reaches out for it.

Renesmee covers her mouth turning her head as she coughs. She leans forward grabbing the mic; but as she does her eyes roll back and she collapses hitting the floor her head hitting one of the stage lights.

The fans scream seeing her hit the floor. The staff run over with air mask and water. “She’s not breathing!” One of the staff yells and the other staff try and block the fans view.

“No her heart stopped!” They yell and the girls look over hearing the fans screaming. The staff try and revive her as they try and get help.

“I have a heart beat!” One says as he stops pressing on her chest. Jisoo tried to run over but Moka grabs her stopping her.

The girls look around as they keep singing. “Wait no I lost it again we need to move her now!” One yells looking at the others.

“We need to get a heart beat first!”

July 14, 2019

‘Breaking News

Renesmee from Royal 1004 collapses during concert. Fans say staff claims her heart stops beating twice before they move her taking her to the hospital.

Before the show starts Nessie went live on v app talking about the tour and that she was sick but was taking medicine for it. She even shows off her manager talking to him having fun. Before she ends it she says ‘I always live like it’s my last.’

With that being said really scared fans. Because some know she rather be in pain and see them smile then disappoint them. Renesmee is known for being happy and helping everyone without thinking about herself.

Now fans await on word from SM or the rest of the girls. But I think they just want Renesmee to get better and come back 100%.’

“Well she’s still unconscious as of right now.” The doctor says talking to Rosalie and she nods. “It seems her fever spiked but we got it down and she has bruises on her side like someone beat.”

“I see.”

“We checked and her ribs are fine not broken this time.” He says and Rosalie sighs nodding again. “We are doing everything we can; watching her 24/7 just in case her fever spikes again.”

Rosalie hums looking around hearing her name. “Thank you doctor you’ve really been a big help.” She says bowing to him before he walks off with the nurse.

Rosalie walks around the corner folding her arms. “So what did he say?” Li Xiuying asks folding his arm.

“She’s going to be okay they got her breathing and heart beat normal; but she’s still unconscious.” Rosalie says looking up at him and he nods looking away. “They said there are bruises on her body.”

“Bruises?” He says looking back at her. “As in someone was beating her!”

“Calm down!” She says grabbing his arm pulling him back to the waiting room. “We don’t know that, she does practice extra hard she could have fell.”

Xiuying sighs looking at her. “Can I go see her then please?” He asks looking st Rosalie. Rosalie sighs pushing her hair back. “Please I haven’t seen her since she was a baby.”

“The last time you saw her was when she was 5.” Rosalie says folding her arms and Xiuying sighs pushing his hair back.

“Please let me go see here.” He asks reaching out grabbing her arm. Rosalie groans looking at him as he pouts.

“Ugh I hate that pout, she does the same thing.” Rosalie says rolling her eyes looking away. Xiuying smiles kissing her cheek. Rosalie sighs grabbing his hand heading to Renesmee room.

“Don’t say anything and don’t touch her.” Rosalie says and he nods standing outside the door. “Hurry up.”

Xiuying opens the door walking into the room. Rosalie stands by the door watching him. He walks over to her bedside sitting in the chair.

July 24, 2019

“I don’t think I can keep going.” Jisoo says sitting in her chair getting her makeup done.

“Jisoo we know this is really hard on you.” Sora says looking over at her and Jisoo sighs. “It’s hard on all of us; but we must stay strong for Nessie.”

Xiaoling sighs before standing up. “That’s right unnie would want us to be strong a give the fans a show.” She says smiling even though she wanted to cry as well.

“This is the last day for the Seoul part of the tour; which means we get to go see unnie tomorrow.” Roxay says smiling as she jumps up. “So let’s give it our all tonight.”

The girls head out towards the stage. As the girls start the show they put on a brave face as they dance and sing. After the first few songs they stop.

“1…2…3…”

Sora counts off as they stand there. “Gimmie gimmie your love Royal 1004!” The girls say bowing doing their pose.

“Are you guys ready to have some fun!” Roxay yells and the fans start screaming.

The girls stand there talking for a few while the staff moves some stage props around. Jisoo sighs rocking side to side not wanting to talk. Moka looks over at her then slowly makes her way over to Jisoo.

Moka puts her arm around Jisoo rubbing her side. “I know I’m ready to have fun and party tonight.” Chaoxing says holding up Her microphone.

“If you’re ready to party make some noise!” Yiyang screams and the fans start screaming again. “Then lets have some fun!”

The girls run off getting ready for the next few songs. As the night goes on the girls start to have fun interacting with the fans. As the girls sing the last couple of songs they walk around waving to the fans.

As the girls look out hearing the fans sing along they notice the signs and lights. Jisoo covers her mouth as she starts crying.

‘We Love our Queen Nessie!’

Xiaoling walks over hugging Jisoo rubbing her back as she keeps singing. The others smile wiping their eyes as they stand there. The fans keep singing as the girls go silent looking at them.

At the hospital

Déshì walks into the room looking at Rosalie. “How is she?” He asks setting his bag down walking over to Renesmee.

“Still no change and now I’m starting to worry.” Rosalie says standing up looking at him. Déshì sighs sitting on the other side of the bed.

He reaches out grabbing her hand squeezing it. “Come on Nessie you have to wake up.” He says kissing the back of her hand.

Renesmee lays there still unconscious and he sighs. Rosalie rubs her face as she yawns. Déshì looks over at her getting up. “Mom why don’t you go home I’ll stay here you need rest.”

Rosalie sighs shaking her head pushing her hair back. “I can’t leave her alone; what if she wakes up or if she stops breathing again?” Rosalie says as tears run down her face.

“I can’t lose her again I need to be here by her side.” She says her breathing becoming shaky and Déshì grabs her arm stopping her.

“Hey mom calm down she’s not going to die or be taken.” He says rubbing her arm and she looks back at him. “I’m here okay what happened then it wasn’t your fault and it’s in the past.”

“If she wakes up I promise you will be the first I call; I won’t let nothing happen to her.”

Rosalie looks over at Renesmee then back at Déshì nods. “I know she would want you rested and healthy when she wakes up.” He says and Rosalie nods wiping her face.

“Okay but you call me if anything happens.” She says and he smiles nodding.

“Promise.” He says letting her go and she grabs her bag. “Go home take a hot shower calm down as well as dad, and get some sleep for the both us.”

Rosalie nods heading towards the door leaving. She walks out yawning again and Déshì watches her leave. He walks back over sitting down holding Renesmee hand.

As the night goes on the doctor and nurses come and go checking on Renesmee. “Well that’s good nurse thank you I was starting to worry.” The doctor says looking over the charts.

Déshì looks up from his phone hearing them and the doctor smiles looking back at him. “Good news her fever is gone so she may wake up soon.” He says looking back at the charts nodding.

“We are going to up her oxygen since a little lower than before; but everything else looks good her heart beat is normal again.” He speaks and Déshì sighs in relief nodding as he follows along.

The nurse and doctor walks out the room closing the door. “Thank god you’re okay.” Déshì says walking back over to Renesmee side sitting down. “Please wake up soon.” He says grabbing her hand resting his head on the side of her bed looking at her.

After a few hours Déshì starts to feel sleepy as he watches her. He closes his eyes deciding to take a small nap. One of the nurse comes in checking on Renesmee and sees him sleeping.

She walks over grabbing the extra blanket gently covering him up. Renesmee lays there her brain slowly coming to. Her body starts to move a little as she gets flash of memory.

Renesmee starts to whimper in her sleep. Her heart rate quickly starts to escalate. She grips her fist causing Déshì to wake up. Renesmee whimper as more memories flash.

The nurse comes running in just as Renesmee wakes up screaming. “Renesmee calm down.” Déshì says jumping up looking at her as he grabs his phone.

“Don’t hurt me….please let me go!” Renesmee screams covering her face.

“Sir we are going need you to step out for a bit.” The nurse says as the doctor comes running in. The nurses walks him out the room closing the door.

Déshì calls Rosalie his hands shaking. “Mom she’s up.” He says looking into the room. “She woke up screaming they’re trying to calm her down.”

“Okay I’m on my way.” Rosalie says before ending the call.

“Please be okay.” Déshì says and the doctor opens the door looking around. “What’s wrong why is she still screaming.

The nurse walks out and the doctor pulls Déshì into the room. “Maybe you can help.” He says looking at Déshì.

Déshì walks over towards Renesmee gently placing his hand on her shoulder. She pulls her knees closer hiding her face. He sits on the bed looking at her. Déshì sighs closing his eyes thinking and the doctor watches him.

Déshì hums softly before he starts to sing. The doctor tilts his head watching Renesmee. Renesmee stops screaming hearing Déshì voice. She slowly takes a breath trying to calm down.

Déshì gently rubs her arm as he sings. Renesmee looks up looking at Déshì and he just smiles seeing her face. She throws herself at him wrapping her arms around him.

Déshì wraps his arms around her closing his eyes. “Thank god you’re okay.” He says rubbing her back as she starts crying. “They won’t hurt you those people are gone that was in the past Nessie; you’re safe now I promise.”

“How did you get her to calm down?” The doctor asks looking them. Déshì looks back at him smiling.

“That song always calms her down plus I knew why she was screaming.” Déshì says looking back at Renesmee. The doctor nods calling the nurse back. “Nessie you’re at the hospital okay; you had an accident at the concert now that you’re up they need to make sure you’re okay.”

Renesmee sits up looking around the room and she nods. Déshì wipes her face smiling standing up. “I already called your mom she’s on her way now.”

“Okay I’ll be right out there by the door.” He says before walking out the room. The doctor nods thanking him before he leaves.